Gay Erotic Stories

Beth loved her being alone in the mornings. After her task were complete. After she had e-mailed the kids at school. And, after Tom, her husband of 23 years, had left to follow another job lead that, like the others, would undoubtedly only lead back home. As much as she cared for Tom, he really had become a house a homebody . So Beth cherished the times when the house was empty and she had no one to organize or do for; when she could snuggle back under her covers and let her mind wander. And this morning there was also the anticipation of the call she knew would come. Her life was complete, and yet so different than what she'd thought it would be. She'd married Tom because he was a good catch. That's what her mother had told her, and Beth was always the obedient daughter. She'd been in love at the time, but not with Tom. It was a schoolteacher, a man of no expectation. Still, she was in love with him, and with the romance of being in love, and with being in California and the sunshine and beaches and starry nights. Her family was solid, conservative, Midwestern. They didn't believe in starry nights and romance. They believed in prospects. And Tom had plenty of those. As the heir apparent to the town's leading merchants, Tom was the perfect match, and he was utterly devoted to Beth. So she made the rational decision and followed her roots, and her mother's advice. It was a good choice - a solid choice. She'd cried for four days before the wedding. Beth and Tom were married in 1986 in one of those idyllic wedding ceremonies that you always see on TV. It was staged at the home of Tom's Grandfather, the millionaire, whose acres of manicured lawn made the perfect setting for the floral archway under which they were married. The elite all came and sipped champagne. The contract was made. Beth would be a good wife, and mother. Tom would work hard, be successful, and together they would enjoy all the best that the American had to offer. But it's never that simple, is it? The children followed, and with them the sports and dance lessons. Tom and Beth traveled, cheered at soccer games, and swooshed the floor at country club dances. Their lives seemed perfect. The town swirled around them, but Beth and Tom didn't talk. The center of their marriage was cold and silent. Their lives seemed so solid from the outside, but they were struggling. Tom had never had initiative. He left things up to Beth. When Sean was diagnosed with learning disabilities, it was up to Beth to find the special tutors and schools. Tom just abandoned the problem. When Karen fell into a deep depression, Beth found her medical care. Tom was ashamed that his daughter needed "a shrink." Tom didn't stand in the way, but it was Beth who was there for the kids, who helped them make it through adolescence. With the children in college, Beth's life had abandoned her. She'd been an honor student at UCLA once. She needed more. Then, Tom lost his job. Beth was not surprised. The signs had been there for some time. Tom's jovial incompetence had caught up with him. His two cocktail lunches were leaving him vacant in the afternoon, and the family business, which had seemed such a sure thing, was shunting him aside for brighter and more aggressive men. What did surprise Beth was Tom's response. She had thought Tom had character, that he was a survivor, and that maybe the forced change would get him moving again. But in the days that followed his firing, Tom just became depressed. At night, he'd have a scotch, doze in front of the evening news. He stopped sleeping with Beth. Unless she pushed him out to another hopeless job interview, he slept late. Tom simply became dysfunctional. Someone had to cope; to get the bills paid; to bring in some money; to cook and clean. Beth took a part time clerk's job. Her society friends clucked and "Oh, dear." They quit the country club. She worked hard to stretch her income and their savings, but as the year-end holidays hit, the family's prospects and hers looked as barren as the snowy landscape that surrounded her. Beth didn't want to be resentful, but Tom's endless winter of discontent left her with little joy. The Christmas card on its face did not seem to be an epiphany, a catalyst that would send her world spinning into new orbits, but life's important events often begin quietly unnoticed. It was from Todd, her old California lover and friend. Beth had not heard from him in more than 24 years, not since she'd dropped him and laughed at his ambition. It was a nice card. She couldn't believe it, - after all this time. Beth was swallowed up by Christmas, and forgot about Todd's note. It reappeared as she was cleaning up in January. When Beth cleaned after the holidays the cards were always the last to go. She kept Todd’s and noticed that he'd left a phone number in Portland, Oregon. She started to call him a couple of times, but always chickened out. Why was she so nervous? Did she feel unfaithful? It was just a phone call for God's sake. He was 2,000 miles away and had his own life. What did she expect? Romance? Be realistic. But the door to possibility, like Pandora's box, was open. Beth walked through that door a few days later when she made the call. "Hello?" The voice was pleasant, and familiar. "This is Beth." They had a lot of catching up to do. Todd was now a successful architect, and headed a large firm. He'd spent time in London, but would always be a Midwesterner at heart. He had three boys. He and his ex-wife had a "good" divorce. They were friends and raised their boys together. He had traveled around the world and lived in one of those panoramic houses that look like movie sets. Beth talked about her world. How ironic that the school teacher her mother had rejected for her had gone on to success and a life far more interesting than her own hand-picked one. She was jealous and mad at herself for not following her own instincts. That was a decision made long ago, though. But, why had he written her? She called again, late at night a couple of weeks later. She wasn't nervous. The preliminaries were over, and they could just talk as old friends. She asked about his divorce. The passion had left his marriage. He'd had an affair, then confessed. Counseling hadn't helped; his wife simply didn't want him any more. There was no one in particular in his life. She volunteered that her life wasn't all that great right now. She admitted aloud that her sex life seemed dead, and that her once successful husband was unavailing. The conversation was harmless, but intimate. They both really wanted to connect. For her, Todd was safe. He could be a sounding board, and he was far away. He listened, and his soft responses comforted her. She was not alone in feeling alienated from her spouse, and disappointed with her life. Her friend, successful as he was, was in the same boat. When they talked again, he asked how she could call and talk so freely. She told him she was downstairs on the couch, and she would often be up late after her husband was long asleep. They talked about their kids, and their jobs, and it seemed so casual when Todd asked: "What are you wearing?" Beth didn't hesitate to describe the short teddy that covered her breasts, but not much else as she sat on the couch. "I wish I was there." Beth's body responded involuntarily. A little wave of excitement circled her neck and cascaded down between her breasts, and tingled her most intimately. "Why?" She tried to keep it light, but her body was already alert. "Well, I'd like to give you a massage to get rid of some of the anxiety you're feeling. I'd start with your back, and I'd massage your shoulders, and work the tension out of them." Beth hadn't had a man touch her in weeks. Tom had simply become a non-entity in her life. Now, she was powerless to stop the words in her ear. She didn't want to. Her body didn't want her to. Her body just wanted to drink in the soft sonorous sounds and let them flow around and through her. Let them do their magic. "Then I'd move my hands to your back, and I'd rub it softly from the middle out to the sides, and along the edges of your breasts." Beth longed for the feel of his hands, and not just on her back, but he was moving deliciously slowly. Beth thought after thoroughly rubbing her back, he might quit. Or move to her more intimate regions. Todd's words did neither. He moved to her feet. He kneaded them, and spread the toes and slowly rubbed and pampered them. Now he was rubbing her calves with lotion. Beth could feel the cool pleasure in the words, but, as Todd's hands moved ever upward. Beth felt between her legs become heated, and the wetness come to her lips. "I'd then move higher and massage your thighs. First one side then the other. First just above your knees, and then rising higher until the sides of my hands brush almost by mistake against you, and I feel its wetness." Beth let out a soft involuntary cry. He moved on and massaged her rear, and allowed his hands to caress her back again. This was driving her wild with desire. He still had her on her stomach, but she wanted him to turn her over; to touch her breasts. That would give her permission to touch herself. "Then I would turn you over, and massage and kiss your neck, and your arms." My breasts, please, my breasts. "And I'd want you to touch your breasts, as you should be now, and I'd watch you pull your nipples hard and erect." Beth could not resist the command; she pushed her full breasts up in her fingers. Her nipples were long and she could stroke them between her fingers like a man's cock. They were already hard and now she played with them, and brought them to full erection. Todd's massage had moved down her arms. She was acutely aware that he was watching her play with own breasts, and it excited her. The touch of her own fingers on her breasts was sending signals to her groin. Her pussy was now fully involved. She could feel and smell her wetness. She wanted him to move on, ravage her, but he didn't. "Then, I would let my hands join yours, and together let them trace circles around your breasts and nipples. While you held them for me I would lick you ever so lightly and feel the hardness of your nipples on my tongue, and place them in my mouth and suck them and run them over the roof of my mouth with my tongue." A moan escaped from Beth's throat. While she stroked her nipples with one hand, the other slid to her now soaking pussy. She felt the curls of her hair between her fingers. She rubbed along the sides of her cunt, and felt the juice that overflowed from her desire, but she did not touch her lips. She was waiting Todd's permission. "I would move my mouth down to your belly, and cover it in kisses, and then farther down so I can smell the exquisite fragrance of your pussy in my nostrils. Then I would blow gently on your hot cunt, and let my tongue flick against the lips of your pussy, and kiss your thighs down to your feet. Beth couldn't stand more delay, her fingers wanted to touch her clit, and he was teasing her with foreplay. "No, I can't wait. I want you to fuck me, now." "Not yet." But, she couldn't wait. The tip of her finger found her clit, and the electricity of passion shot through her. Todd moved on more quickly. "Your thighs are warm as I bring my hands to them and allow them to brush against your lips. Now you are hot and wet, and you spread your thighs, and allow me to kiss and lick you, and feel your wetness on my tongue, and let it flick against your lips and clit. What are you doing, now? Are you touching yourself?" "Yes." "Are you stroking your pussy? Do you feel the hardness of your clit against your fingers." "Yes." The word escaped almost as a gasp from Beth's lips. He had given her permission, and she let it all go. "I'm stroking myself, and I have two fingers in my cunt, and it feels so good." "Now I'm going to kiss your pussy, and while your fingers go in and out I'm licking them, and my tongue is flat against your clit and massaging it up and down, and going in and out of you with your fingers. And while I lick you, my fingers are on your nipples, and I'm stroking them while you stroke your pussy." "Oh, God. This is good. I'm almost there. Are you touching yourself?" "Yes, I'm stroking my cock and its really big and hard, and I can see you stroking your pussy. I can tell you're going to come, and I'm going to come." "I wish you were here, and I'd be sucking your cock and feeling you getting closer. God, I'm so wet. Can you hear my pussy sucking in and out. Listen." Beth put the phone between her legs while she stroked herself wildly. The beating, slurping sounds in Todd's ear were unmistakable. "Did you hear?" "Yes, I heard your passion. Now, come with me!" "Yes, yes. It's coming now, It's coming. I'm coming. Ahhhh!" Beth's pussy contracted over and over as her orgasm washed over her, and as she listened to her lover. "I'm coming, too. Now!" Two thousand miles away, Todd's orgasm sprayed hot salty cum on his belly three times as he pumped. Hot juice covered Beth's hand and fingers. She was spent. She had never done anything like this before. Oh, she'd brought herself to orgasm, but never with a man's voice in her ear, almost watching as she pleasured herself, and stroking himself at the same time. She loved it. And so Beth waited, snuggled in her sheets, looking forward to making love on the phone. In the last few weeks her life had changed. For one thing, sex on the phone was great, but not enough. But it really didn't matter if it worked out with Todd. He had rekindled her passion. She didn't know what would happen with her marriage, but she knew it couldn't continue as it was. It saddened her, but excited her, too. She was ready to explore.