LGBT Stories

My registered name, on my birth certificate, is Sirius Aquarius … However, all my life I have been called `Brat’ and really I love that name. Perhaps it suits me. I am now an 18 year old boy, but I grew up in a lesbian household. Both my `parents’ were female.

The earliest things I remember are having a loving early life with two people. I didn’t know then that my family was any different from any other family. We lived in a commune of sorts, but it was really part of the general community of this large town. What I remember most vividly is that one of my parents always wore a black leather collar around her neck and this collar had a series of long chrome spikes sticking out from it. Also this parent almost always crawled around our house on all fours naked.

She stayed at home all the time with me as a good mother should, but she really wasn’t my mother.

I was never told any of these things, and despite lots of questioning in my pre-teen years my questions were always left unanswered. When I was ten years old as I started to become curious about my body and other bodies. Then one day, still in my tenth year of life, I found a secreted cache of pictures and video tapes which I avidly focused on when I was able to see them without my families knowledge. They are now worth a fortune in the porn industry but I will never let them out in public. They are my heritage. They also answered many questions, but also raised many, many more and I gradually obtained answers over the ensuing years.

(more…)

Annie had this feeling in her body. She couldn’t understand it and she was afraid to ask anyone, least of all her mother. Annie was now about to celebrate her thirteenth birthday and throughout her body she felt change. She noticed that her breasts were starting to swell and her nipples were enlarging and when she rubbed them they felt nice.

Then one morning as she was pissing she rubbed her finger over her puffy little cunt lips and felt the first sprouting of hair. She also noted with both alarm and delight that rubbing her fingers over her slit lips now felt good.

Since she was nine she had noticed men and boys cocks. She had looked at statutes and paintings and even ventured into some medical books at the local library. She really didn’t understand a lot of what she read, but she now knew almost four years later that she had started puberty.

Each morning she rubbed her little slit and found that her body tingled, sometimes almost alarmingly and on one occasions she actually shook with the intense pleasure that was developing.
(more…)

I was just 27 when for reasons that I will tell you later, I moved into this small but enlightened community back in the sixties. My career as a teacher had almost finished due mostly to the revelations from one of my students Heath, that he and I had been sexually involved. The lad had been 14 at the time and I had been smitten by not only his superior intelligence over his peers, but also by the large cock that swung between his muscled and well developed young legs. My far from virgin cunt often became overly moist as I looked admiringly upon this aristocratic young lad. His face was a picture of angelic proportions with his massed dark curls surrounding this clear fresh face and charming smile. His little upturned nose and small lips with the flashing light blue eyes just broke my moisture making openings in my cunt and I felt weak in the legs just thinking about his body in a naked state.

It was during a gymnastics school display that I had the freak opportunity to view his cock. He had been performing a series of tumbles and vaulting horse exercises when he caught his small tight white shorts on the edge of a seat opposite me. As he moved to join in a line up for an up-coming exercise his shorts ripped open on an edge of the seat and out flopped this large headed circumcised boy cock. He rapidly covered his log with his hands and raced away to put on an alternative pair of shorts. I watched him diligently thereafter and noted with excitement that the bulge in his new shorts was extremely large for a boy his age, which was just 13.

(more…)

I was 15 when my world was turned upside down, well, part of my world, the part to do with sex.

First something about myself: As I said, 15 years old, 170 cm high, slim, blonde hair and eyes, kind of olive complexion (my father was from France), and not to brag, I was very handsome. I know that for sure, I have a lot of pictures taken of me at that age. That was the curse of the men in my family, very, very handsome until the end of puberty, then we all tends go get a kind of thug look. We grow big, heavy and muscular, with lots of hair growing all over with a 5′o clock shadow early midday. But all this was years to come. Now I was just dark with big eyes, soft skin with no acnes or blemish in my face. Even my cousin admitted that I was beautiful, but in a “girlish way” (I’m sure he was envious).

But I was very shy. The girls were crazy about me, but I did not have the nerve to go up and talk to one member of that species. So in the sex department, I was as virgin as they get. I had not even touched a girl’s breast, and never seen one naked (if not counting my mother).
(more…)

Father Dave loved his new assignment. He had just been made principal of a
Catholic high school. He loved being able to look out his office window and
see the young boys and girls romping on the playground, the boys with
burgeoning bulges in their pants and the girls with their cute behinds
occasionally showing under the skirts they shortened as soon as they were
outside the rigid rules of the school classroom. He also appreciated the
fact that the teenage girls were starting to show the development of their
breasts as well.

Let’s face it, Father Dave was a “dirty old man.” He had been very discreet
in his observation of young people, but he had long had a yen to actually
experience the sexual activities that were proscribed by his vows of
celibacy as a priest. His one concession to his sexual proclivities was the
fact that he loved to wear no underwear under his cassock, enjoying the
feeling of his penis and balls swinging loosely, and the fact that his cock
could harden without being noticeable under the flowing skirt of his
cassock.
(more…)

PART ONE

Mike Leary was genuinely excited about Thanksgiving that year, though
it had never much mattered to him before. Maybe it was part of getting
older - he had just turned sixteen that past summer. Or it might have been
the company. There would be all men in the Leary household this
Thanksgiving, and Mike looked forward to seeing them all. Their chests,
their arms, their asses and faces. He hadn’t as much as said it out loud
to anyone yet, but he was pretty interested in men, sexually. And there
wasn’t anyone in this bunch who wasn’t a pleasure to look at.

(more…)

In the summer of 1977, when I was 12, my older sister started dating
an Indian guy named Dave. She didn’t tell my parents for a long time
though, because she figured that when she did they found out they would
kill either her or him or themselves. They weren’t out and out racists,
but they weren’t exactly welcoming either. We were lower middle class
people living in a failing city in upstate New York, just a notch over
white trash ourselves, and they weren’t eager to lose any ground by having
their 18 year old daughter getting involved with anyone who wasn’t anything
other than white himself. The fact that he was 6 years older than her
wouldn’t exactly thrill them either.
The first time she brought Dave to the house our parents were out for
the night. Dave was coming over to watch a movie on TV with Sue, and she
asked me to stay in the living room and watch it with them. I think I
understood, even then, that if they were alone Dave might want to do things
my sister didn’t exactly want to do, and she hoped that having her 12 year
old brother around would stop him.

(more…)

My husband has left and he had left the computer on, when I prepare to turn off it, it asks me if I want to send a pending e-mail. I look at it and it is a titled erotic history titled: “The boy and the family old friend”, I cannot believe what I am reading, it tries as a married man seduces the adolescent son of some friends of the marriage. I am red of rage, cholera and shame, I read it three times, until then I had not realized the terrible sexual excitement that their reading had taken place in me, I play with my sex and I have it totally wet, there, before the computer I masturbate like a crazy one. The e-mail went directed to a gay website. I leave everything like it was and I leave to my office, I close my office door and I look in internet for the gay website. A file of homosexual pornographic stories. Twenty married years and I never had the smallest suspicion that my husband could like young boys. I thought that after that discovery we would necessarily separate. I didn’t understand how he could like those histories, however they also excited me. After a lot of thinking I decided at the moment not to tell him on my discovery. Let us be devoted to spy him, I wanted to know if he had some sexual relationship with somebody. Nothing, absolutely nothing. So only I found his histories in the gay website. All they made me masturbate several times. With me he continued being as always so good lover. I thought that while we make love maybe was imagining that him is with some of those boys of their histories. That gave me pain of him. I want him to be happier and that he had opportunity to carry out some of those histories. Meanwhile I also found a source of pleasure in the histories of the gay website. they excited me a lot, those histories so hot between men and men and especially between men and boys. I also discovered the histories of lesbianism, and especially those of women and adolescents were those that made me get more orgasms.
(more…)