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Dear readers, it feels great to be part of this great treasure of sex stories. I cannot forget the many days on which I have fucked myself, coming out before the laptop, only by reading the stories on keralaerotica.
My intention here is to just try and begin the saga of my gay life. Before anything, I would like to make a point that gay sex can be as passionate as any straight sex experience. (All names changed).
My gay inclinations had taken shape years ago, when I explored my 8 incher dick for the first time in a sexual way. But as I grew up and went to college, I had the best time of my gay life by dreaming about who I think is the sexiest men on earth- lecturers. It all started when I began observing each of them very closely. When a teacher wore a slack shirt, I made sure that I looked at his hairy armpit. Most of them had thick hair in there. But perhaps the thickest was possessed by one lecturer Vinay. I spent hours gaping at his dense forest, which to me was the perfect place to sleep on, to sniff up and to eat up. I often dreamed about sniffing his armpits like a crazy pug and also licking up the sweat that oozed out. Vinay had given me many memorable days of masturbating.
The second fantasy with lecturers was to look constantly at their buttocks. I used to measure each man's hind assets by the circumference and their bulge outside. I can give my life for heavy asses. My ass fantasy did not stop there. I observed every teacher's jock mark (outline of their underwear). As I mastered the art, I could tell the kind of underwear each lecturer was wearing. My lecturer Narayan was evidently wearing boxer shots as the jock marks were down from his ass, slighly above his thighs (which I can say for sure are hairy). On the other extreme, people like Sajan can be said for sure of wearing tight slimmers (could be whities) as the jock marks were clearly on their asses. The last category of teachers, like my teacher Krishnan were wearing the cheap undies (could have names like Ponni, Pumer, Deluxe) as the jock strap on their asses were flat, broad and elastic. In short, I could never look at the blackboard, thanks to these elegantly sculpted teacher asses.
I want to talk more about Sajan. He used to have the perfect bulge of a man which could not be hidden with even the thickest of the fabrics he chose for his pants. His zipline had a clear bridge-like hump and in one sight, anyone could say that his kunna was longer than any weapon mankind has ever made. He had the habit of walking around the lecture hall while teaching. When he did this, I followed his tool which I felt was throbbing to pop out and pump its milk. I had instant dreams of grabbing his kunna evertime he passed by, and hallucinations of his tonnes of kunnappalu splashing all over my face. I had masturbated numerous times thinking of caressing his giant tool. I was quite sure it was coffe-brown in colour, with a protruding bulb of foreskin (puramthol).
I made sure that I did not miss any chance to be close to my lecturers. As I was the class rep, I could spend considerable amount of time in the staff room. When I sat before a lecturer, I made sure that my knee touched his or if we were sitting adjacent, that his hand rubbed against mine. Even if these things happened only for a fraction of a second, they took me to gardens of passion. Every time the physical closeness with a lecturer happened, Sukhathinte vedikkettukal ente dehamaasakalum, especially ente kunnayilum undai.
One thing I can never forget is how these people smelled. Every teacher gave out a unique manly scent, which was formed by a blend of his sweat, deodorant/cologne and after shave. I always try to catch this smell every time a teacher passed by me. Sajan was smelling precious from every part of his body. I was sure that he had a lot of interest in personal grooming as he changed his cologne periodically. But the most precious and priced was the scent of his sweat. His sweat to me was the definition of manhood. He always had a moon-shaped sweat patch on his shirt pits and also sweat dripping from his sidelocks and cheeks. I wanted to swim in Saajan’s sweat.
Even when all this was happening in my dreams and fantasies, I remained a good student. Somebody who never thought that he could have a real experience with Saajan. All that in the next part. Till then chaos and fuck yourself to mightiness.
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