Gay Erotic Stories

And that was problematic for my hunky husband and me because the shower was an insurmountable aphrodisiac. I couldn’t be in the shower with him and not be almost overwhelmingly hot to DO him. So, like last night, the first two times we showered after we’d wrestled, grappled and fucked, sucked, jacked, rubbed, frotted and fucked some more, the shower just had us going at it all over again. The third shower was no different, and even though my balls were running on empty and my cock was sore from my husband’s TIGHT assgrip, I slammed him against the marble tiles of the wall of the shower and nailed him harder and deeper than either of the two prior times. Because we’d gone at it for a couple of hours at that point it took me longer to get to my relief, and I even banged him clean through one of his, usually that being enough to ignite my ‘nads and cause me to blast him full. He laughingly told me after I finally did shoot my wad deep inside him that if I even got my cock close to his traumatized hole again before a full day’s recovery that our houseguests would hear him screaming all the way out in the poolhouse. We both laughed until we drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

Our guests. In a self-acclaimed stroke of brilliance, I’d avoided a looming decision about a threesome by fixing up the third with a fourth. Jim and I had caught our humpy sparkplug of a landscaper jacking off watching us during a particularly aggressive fucksession in our breakfast room a week before. Short, furry, built and killer-handsome, Dan Blake, appealed to both of us. But did we really want to open our relationship to a threesome? Well, that’s just it: neither of us really knew.

Jim and I have been together for a whirlwind year since a chance meeting and ensuing hookup that never ended. My life changed that Memorial Day weekend of 2012 when I met the handsome hunk of a lawyer who married me in Massachusetts a little over three months later. I was a retired marine, trying to adjust to civilian life after over twenty-five years of a “special forces” soldier’s life.

When we woke after our post-fuck(s) nap, it was the middle of the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d slept in until nearly ten. Oh, right – we never had! Sure we were up fucking from just after five until nearly eight, but still, it wasn’t like us to oversleep.

Jim held me tight against him, even though we were both awake. “I meant what I said, Bill,” he said, almost gravely.

“You usually do,” I murmured, enjoying the feel of his arms around me. But to what, in particular, are you referring?”

He moved his head so that his lips brushed the back of my ear and his breath made my entire body tingle. “If you want us to have sex with Dan and if I want to have sex with Dan, and if we do it together tonight, I’ll be fine with it. And so will you.”

“Jesus, you sweet talker! If I wasn’t so fucking worn out, my cock wasn’t sore and my nuts weren’t going into automatic shut-off to replenish supply, I’d fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, my hot husband,” I said, reaching back and grabbing a handful of his cock and nuts playfully.

“Mmmmmmm, if you can’t deliver, I wouldn’t be using that hand to get anything started,” he taunted me.

It wasn’t just his voice that taunted me; his cock was getting hard in my hand. “Seems Jim Junior owes me one, by my accounting,” I said, giving his big fat cock a stroke as it continued hardening.

Jim began kissing my neck, and my own exhausted, sore cock vaulted to attention again, too. But when he tried to reach around me to stroke it I ordered him to remain at ease. “This is for you . . . or for me but for you,” I smirked.

And while my husband kissed my neck and chewed my shoulder, I jacked him for long enough that I began to edge him and continued until he threatened my life if I slowed him down one more time. His climax was so intense that I had to force myself not to grab my cock and jack it. It needed a rest, and I did say I was evening up things, so I couldn’t pull ahead again!

“Jesus FUCK you own my body, Bill,” he said, collapsed back onto the bed, still holding me, but limply.

“You better believe it. I have no choice; you own mine, so I can’t not own one. Yours is handy.”

“HEY!” he laughed and gave my nipple a painfully ecstatic tweak.

“Okay, okay, I give. Let’s stop this before we while away all day in this bed. It’s beautiful out, we have some things we wanted to get done, and we really should give our bodies a chance to regenerate some.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I really want to take a run,” I said as we were drying ourselves after a quick-enough-to-avoid-sex-in-the-shower shower.

“Done!” he agreed, and we threw on our running shorts, gym sox and sneakers and off we went.

We did our ten mile circuit along the bay around the peninsula and got back to the property exhausted and invigorated. We were two balls of sweat, both our running shorts completely soaked through, when we ran up from the water’s edge. Dan watched us, a bit too intently, as we ran up and across the broad lawn to where he and his crew were working amid the trees. He looked each of us up and down, and I know I didn’t imagine him licking his lips more than once.

We admired Dan’s crew’s progress. In just over three hours since they got there around eight, they’d completely troughed the area and leveled it. Looked like they were about to begin laying down the brick floor. “Damn good work!” I said with appreciation for their efforts.

The area was broad – about twenty feet by forty feet inside of an even broader arc of oval area. They’d cleared it and had dug and then packed and then leveled the area until it looked like it was packed so tight we could ignore placing the bricks for the floor. “I’ll tell you what’s damn good,” Dan replied. “These bricks are beautiful!” he said, sweeping his hand toward the vast stacks of brick we’d had delivered the day before.

I knew we’d picked good bricks. The supply yard – the fourth one we’d looked at – had to break and re-create palates because Jim and I culled through every brick on multiple palates until we found the ones we wanted. Man-made-to-look-used, slates and tans in color instead of red, they were, in fact, beautiful. Jim had given the guys in the yard who’d worked with us each fifty bucks for their trouble, and that and agreeing to pay extra for delivery for the re-creation of the palates got the owner off our back by the end of the transaction.

But my view of beauty was Dan’s rippling arm muscles and shoulder muscles and his bouncing pecs as he swept his arm around toward the bricks. Under his sweat-soaked t-shirt, he looked like a gay porn model. Jim leaned into me, apparently seeing that I’d gone off-track or doing that annoying mind-reading thing of his, and said quietly enough for Dan not to hear, “The bricks; not Dan. The bricks are beautiful.”

The words and the stirring in my shorts served to bring me back. “Hope they’re as good to work with as they look, Dan. Your crew’s really done great so far, but I imagine the difficult part is to come.”

Dan smirked. And I absolutely knew he was thinking about cumming. I wondered if that’s what Jim’s thoughts feel like to him when he KNOWS what I’m thinking. He turned around but backed up a step or two until he was shoulder to shoulder with me, facing the work site. “My crew’s got it covered,” he said, as we saw they were already starting to distribute sand.

I could inhale Dan’s sweat with him that close, and my cock stirred more insistently this time. “Come on, Bill, let’s leave Dan and his crew to their work,” Jim said, pulling me away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jim and I left the crew to its work, only returning to the site with a trayload of sandwiches and a pail of soda cans and water bottles around noon. We had plenty of things on our list of projects, both in town and at the house. We lost track of the afternoon and had just finished priming the shelves, walls, ceiling and trim in the formal library we’d been redoing ourselves when we heard Dan call from the kitchen door. We were on our way up to shower again when we heard him, and we detoured by the kitchen. He took a minute to pretty obviously check us out as we walked toward him. We were again shirtless, this time in only our boxer briefs. We’d decided that the primer paint would get on less clothes that way, and since we had the windows open and the air conditioning off to ensure we didn’t interfere with the primer’s interaction with the wood and walls, it was plenty hot enough where we’d been working.

“Wow, that’s a day that passed like a flash, isn’t it?” Jim said. “How’d you do?”

I noticed from the sun on the bay that it had to be after five, and the clock showed me closer to six. Shadows from the trees were starting to reach up from the shore toward the house.

“I think we did great, but I wanted you to come and check it. I sent the guys home, as it’ll be too dusky to work out there shortly, but I told them if you wanted anything redone or touched up they’d need to be available tomorrow. If you don’t mind taking a look . . . Uh, if you want to put something on, maybe?” he said tentatively, enjoying the sight of our boxer briefs again.

“We can go out this way,” Jim said, stepping over by the door.

I knew that if I didn’t walk in front of Dan on the way down to the work area, the site of his ass and his sweaty, dirty t-shirt stretched across that amazing torso most assuredly would make it so that I could NOT go out in my boxer briefs! “Sure,” I said, and headed off in front of the two of them out of the house at a fast pace.

It was an awesome job. We were all three standing on the bricked floor; Jim and me walking around in our bare feet, feeling perfection under them. And the visual effect was even better than we’d imagined when we chose the bricks. Dan was babbling on and on about things they’d done – something about trimming the bricks but hauling away all the dust and chips, something about the extra and partial pieces stowed somewhere and so forth. I kept glancing at him, noticing how built he was under his sweat-soaked filthy t-shirt and cargo shorts.

Jim apparently noticed me noticing him. His arm went around my shoulders and pulled me into him like he does often, but with a forcefulness that usually only means he’s showing someone I’m his. I leaned into him reflexively, immediately enjoying the contact, as I always do. I turned enough to whisper in his direction, “Marines always have a plan; you should know that by now.” I turned away from Jim’s startled look in time to see the plan, as if on cue, walking up the grassy slope toward us.

William Watts is a local contractor. He’s not as tall as Jim or me, but he’s taller than Dan by several inches. He’s also a total hunk, with sandy brown hair, furry muscular arms and legs, constant five o’clock shadow, and I’ve never seen him clothed that his pecs and bi’s and tri’s weren’t straining his shirt tight against his ripped, corded bod. He works out at our gym near home, and we’d had him do some repair work on the property for us.

Jim spotted him and gave my shoulder a squeeze in a way that pulled me even closer into him, and he turned and kissed my neck right after saying, “You’re a great planner, colonel.”

William got to where we were. “Looks like everything’s a go now for the painting inside the boathouse, Mr. Ellis, Colonel Cate.” He was talking to us, but he was looking at Dan. Or should I say he was devouring Dan with his eyes. “William Watts,” he said, putting out his magnificent arm and big hand in Dan’s direction.

Dan missed a few beats, not only knowing that by the way William was looking at him he might have been saying he was going to throw him down and have his way with him right then and there but also liking the thought of it. “Uh, Danny Blake,” he finally stammered, more than said, and he put his own hand in William’s.

I know I heard the sizzle when their flesh touched; Jim said later he hadn’t heard it but he saw a spark come from their hands when they touched. That isn’t where I saw the sparks!

“Dan phoned while you were making breakfast,” I said to Jim, “And he asked if he could come by to check the boathouse to make sure the drywall and woodwork primer was all dry and ready for painting next week.”

William seemed to snap out of his trance and move back to work mode, although the cockiness of his posture didn’t change. I’d only seen him stand like that when he was after a guy or teasing a guy for sport at the gym. Clearly he liked Dan. And I like it when my plans start to pan out.

“I told him to come by, and I guess his crew’s work is done for the day because he said he’d drive out afterward before he heads back to the other side of town.” Background complete. Now I’d see if Jim could improvise like I had.

“Well great. Dan and his crew just did this amazing job for us,” Dan said, his pecs, delts arm and back muscles rippling as he swept his arm across our newly-paved space. My dick and nuts had been tingling over Dan and William, both hunks deserving of dick-interest. But Dan took that and put it into perspective, as my body felt bolts of electricity emanating from my nuts shooting out my dick and through my body the way I always react to him. “ . . . so why don’t you, too?” he was saying, and I had to force my concentration back to the conversation to get what he’d said into my consciousness.

“Yeah, William, why not? Unless you’ve got a hot date tonight, of course,” I said, echoing Jim’s invitation to join the three of us for dinner.

“Oh, guys, I made a mess of that,” Dan said. “I forgot to bring anything to change into, and I’m also stinking dirty from the work. I think I should take a raincheck on dinner.”

“Nonsense--” Jim started, but William interrupted.

“Ellis and Cate have two fully-functioning bathrooms out here between the poolhouse and the boathouse. I should know, because my guys redid them for them. And I happen to know that the pool house is stocked with all sorts of swimsuits and t-shirts. I bet they wouldn’t mind us both cleaning up there and borrowing some clothes.” Then he turned to me and winked, the first acknowledgement of my set-up. “And that’s if they don’t invite us into the big house to shower with them in their eight-man shower they have in their own room!” he said, with a snarky smile.

Dan was both intrigued and uncomfortable and probably a few other things going on in his mind, and he looked from us to William a few times as if waiting for a cue.

For my part I was laughing inside, but I said, “Jim, you started to say . . . ?”

Jim was laughing inside, too. “Yeah, as much as the inside shower is a provocative idea, I was going to suggest the pool house for that exact reason – the available suits/clothes there. Dan could easily wear something of Perry’s, but William is somewhere between Perry and us size-wise, so his best bet is from that stock.”

“I’m flattered you noticed,” William said with a leer. And we all laughed.

“Go on, guys, head over to the pool house and get yourselves comfortable and let’s meet in say an hour by the barbeque on the deck,” I said. “Jim and I will go in and see if we can make use of that excellent playroom of ours you call a shower.”

It was at that moment that I realized that William and Dan had never let go of each other’s hands. Oh, yeah; I do love a plan that comes together.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was, in fact, well over an hour and a half later when Jim and I emerged from the house, flushed but well-showered, after three gos at it. The first two, amid our lurid speculation about Dan and William in the pool house, turned even nastier than our usual shower experiences, and we had to force ourselves to not repeat during the third shower as we washed away the sweat and cum that had resulted from our second.

There’s something about the shower and being in it with a hot man that makes it virtually impossible to avoid it turning sexual. I used to think, when it was just urges at the gym or the rare occasion with a trick, that it was de rigueur, but with Jim it had elevated to primal and reflexive and unstoppable. He and I simply could not be in a shower together without fucking or sucking or jacking, usually all three.

Dan and William were in the pool, laughing and horsing around and, apparently, enjoying themselves. As Jim and I stood on the deck looking out at them I wrapped my arm around him. “Not a bad plan, was it, counselor?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d become quite vested in the idea of fucking around with Dan.”

I gave him a shove, laughing, enjoying his laughter as he joined in, and I yelled, “Come on; dinner can wait,” and took off running down the steps toward the pool, yanking my t-shirt off and throwing it as I went off the edge to join the fun with our guests.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dinner was chicken and fresh vegetables, both grilled to perfection on the grill by my culinarily-inclined husband. I provide support, like fetching, carrying and cleanup.

I’d kept up as the preparation went, so afterward, when I’d commanded our guests and Jim to sit and enjoy the beginnings of the long summer sunset over bay, my work went fast. I was back out with them in no time, having brought fresh beers with me, for which everyone was grateful. It was still hot out, and the mugginess hadn’t been affected much at all by a too-warm evening breeze off the bay in the horizontal sunlight. I’d been cool inside in the air conditioned kitchen, but outside I was warm again, and I stripped off my shirt before I plopped in the sofa against Jim.

“Damn, guys,” William said. “I was thinking something takeaway, but this was a great treat.” He turned to Dan, next to him, closer than I’d noticed earlier, and added, “A really great treat.” Dan blushed – for real blushed. William reached over and patted Dan’s furry thigh. “REALLY great,” he repeated, with a lascivious grin as he devoured Dan with his leer. My plan might have just been perfect.

I adjusted myself onto Jim so that my long legs were across the low square table that sat between our sofa and the one that William and Dan were on, the both of them at right angles to each other and facing out over the bay. Jim’s arm was lazily draped around my shoulders, his forearm hanging down over my chest.

Dan looked transfixed by the sight of us. William was still licking every surface of Dan with his eyes. I sort of eye-flicked at Dan toward William, and Dan caught him leering at him still, and there went that delicious blush again. Jim chuckled a little against me and patted my solar plexus. “I think you did good,” he said very quietly.

“This is just really GREAT,” William said again, never taking his eyes off Dan.

I laughed first, then Jim joined in, and William laughed at himself, too. Dan laughed nervously at first but soon joined in full-fledged and seemed to settle a little more comfortably into the sofa than he’d been before. “Thanks, guys,” he said, raising his Corona bottle to us. “Regardless of how this night turns out, this is probably going to be a night I never forget.”

Before we could toast to it William jumped in. “Oh, I KNOW how this night is going to turn out! I just hope it’s consensual!” he joked, intensifying the leer at Dan he had never interrupted. Or maybe he wasn’t joking.

“To memorable consensus,” Jim toasted quickly, and we all raised our bottles with Dan’s.

For Dan’s part, he looked a little like a deer in the headlights. Or maybe he looked like a horny teenager who was actually faced with readily available sex. “God, you’re adorable,” William said, still leering at Dan and then taking a long swig of his Corona and adding a few extra mouth moves on the bottle neck than were necessary.

I almost did a spit-shot with my beer, and Jim was choking through his laughter, too. Dan laughed at that and shook his head and took a long swig of his beer and then as he was tipping it back down he swallowed the long neck all the way before pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. William then actually did a spit-shot, fortunately aiming it over the back of their sofa away from all of us. “Gotcha!” Dan said and laughed.

“Oh, baby, you so got me,” William said, and he reached out and touched Dan’s beefy shoulder and caressed it through the t-shirt.

Dan looked down non-commitally at William’s hand on his shoulder for a minute, and I couldn’t tell if things were moving too fast for him or not. William, for the first time I’d ever seen, looked like he was hesitant. He started to move his hand off Dan, and Dan said in a husky voice I’d not heard from him, “You move your hand off me, and you’re making a mistake you’ll regret for the rest of the night.”

I heard Jim’s reaction through his low “hmmmmmm” in my ear as I saw William’s face light up with a grin that cycled through surprised to thrilled and then back to his lascivious leer at the speed of light. He clamped his hand back on Dan’s shoulder and pulled him into him, moving so he could wrap his other hand around the back of Dan’s neck when he got close enough. He pulled him in harder then and kissed Dan . . . a longer-than-I-expected, lighter-than-I-expected meeting of their lips that, when they parted, apparently left them both breathless. “Good choice,” Dan mumbled, and then he settled against William in much the same way I was with Jim. We all sat that way for quite a while.

The sunset was spectacular – better than to-order. It remained warm, and the spates of conversation were quietly played out and easy between the four of us. We’d consumed many beers over the few post-dinner hours. Jim, as he often did, was inside my head and said aloud what I’d been thinking. “Why don’t you two stay here tonight. We’ve all had enough to drink that driving is out, and we’ve got plenty of room for you.”

Dan and William both looked a little startled, again something I wasn’t used to seeing on William’s usually cocky face. “Guys, no pressure from us,” I added. “There are two bedrooms in the pool house. There’s the guest house. And there are several unused bedrooms in our house. You can be together, be close or you can be sufficiently safely separated to protect your virtue.”

Jim laughed out loud at that, and so did William. Dan said, “Damn, that was a mouthful.” And he immediately turned into William, who was starting to say something, and added, “Not a word from you, gutter-thoughts.” We all laughed at that, particularly at William snapping shut his mouth dramatically and miming zipping his lips. Then he kissed Dan, and I swear there were stars floating around their heads.

I didn’t know what the night would hold for them, but I hoped it would be a suitable entry to the world Dan was trying to move into from the world he was shedding. The way William’s hand had stroked Dan’s arm and chest now and again and the way Dan had stroked William’s legs now and again – and the way both of their swimsuits tented, sometimes more, sometimes less, but always tented some – I was pretty sure they were on their way to the right place.

When we excused ourselves a few hours later, after the most relaxing, as enjoyable a night as I could remember, the two of them were walking very close to the pool house . . . which is the opposite direction from either our house or the guest house. My bet was that there was going to be only one bed slept in . . . but maybe, if what I’d heard about middle-aged men who’d been straight all their lives coming out was true, there probably wouldn’t be a single surface in that pool house that wouldn’t need cleaning after this weekend.

And that, in all its many possibilities, fueled Jim and me far into the wee hours, as we did our best to keep up with what we imagined they were doing.