Gay Erotic Stories

The Interruption By Motn007 What amazes me the most is that he has the nerve to interrupt my work. I was sitting in my office reviewing my notes for tomorrow's class. Sunday mornings are always quiet and normally uninterrupted…but not today. He doesn't even knock. He just walks in, turns a chair backwards and plops down in it, straddling it. He sticks his long legs out, perches his chin on the chair's back and stares at me. When I finally look up from my work, he grins. It's Michael, a fellow professor. "Lost again?" I growl. He says he came earlier to help another teacher set up for a lab. I don't know whom, nor do I care, so I barely listen to the details. I don't particularly like being alone, but this morning I looked forward to it. I had been sulking for the past week over an overheard comment made by another professor about me being "uptight". I wasn't quite over it yet. "I'm working," I hiss under my breath before returning to my work. I was hoping a not-so-gentle reminder of the obvious would be enough to send him on his way. Instead he gets up and walks around to stand behind me. "Why are you so uptight?" he asks as he begins to knead my shoulders. I flinch at the words. "What's wrong?" he asks again. When I don't answer, he doesn't repeat the question. Instead, he continues massaging my shoulders. When Michael stops, he pauses only long enough to pull on my shirt urging me to stand up. When I stand, still facing away from him, he resumes by rubbing my back. Slowly, almost tentatively, he hugs me from behind. His strong arms fold around in front of me, and he holds me. "I don't want to talk," I whisper. I am angry that my voice is shaking; it gives away my need. "Then don't," Michael whispers back. He holds me as he kisses my neck. He bites along the pulse point playfully and I reach up and grab him roughly by the hair. He bites me harder and my knees begin to shake. His hands are frantically canvassing my chest as he kisses me on the neck. He slowly turns me around, still kissing until he is kissing my mouth, my face, my throat. He is totally out of control. By the time he pauses to catch his breath, I am totally disheveled. I glance nervously at the door only to hear Michael's gravelly voice assure me, "It's locked." He then begins to unbutton my flannel shirt, nearly ripping it off of me. I watch him in awe as he undresses me like a kid opening a present at Christmas. He pauses twice to hungrily kiss me. As he fumbles with my belt, I quickly undo his. He laughs at how quickly and easily I de-pant him. I'm equally amazed that my shaking hands have so easily cooperated. By the time I have gently stroked his throbbing member four or five times, he has finally gotten my pants down. Before I can say anything, he drops to his knees and takes me into his mouth. My God, I nearly faint. Though this is not the first time for me by any means, with Michael, it certainly feels as if it is. He moans as he sucks me and I feel the vibration travel to my toes. He tastes me as if I was the secret to eternal life. He kisses my thighs as he touches my buttocks. I am speechless, afraid to attempt words. Once again he stands and leans against me, pushing our erect cocks together. He smiles and kisses me sweetly before making me turn around. He pushes the paper work out of the way and pushes me down on my desk so I am bending over it. He abruptly bends down to kiss my butt and lick me there. He bites me, playfully as always, and kisses me some more. I so want to urge him on, but I can't think straight enough to speak. All of those years of higher education and all I can manage is a strangled "uh". But Michael does not need encouragement. He uses his fingers to ready me and he nips along the back of my thighs. My swollen cock is uncomfortable as it is pressed against the desk. As if reading my mind, he stands and lifts my hips slightly, relieving the pressure. Pressing against me, he slowly enters me. He is large enough to make mating with him a pleasant challenge, but not so large as to ruin the sensation with pain. I hiss a sharp intake of breath as his gentle thrusting begins. I swear I could die like this and know I died happy. "Is this what you needed, Richard?" he asks compassionately. "Yes," I manage to answer. He pushes in deeper and I repeat my answer, "Yes." As we make love he does not attempt to push me over my orgasmic edge…instead he teeters on his own and pulls me over with him. The climactic cries that come from this normally contained and reserved man are enough to induce my own end; and it does. When I come, my whole body seems to shudder. He collapses on me as we lay on my desk. I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my back. When it begins to slow, I softly ask him, "Just what to you see in an old man like me?" I can feel his smile as he answers, "You're intense and needy. You have guilt and regret and feel resentment and rage…and you're not ashamed to admit it. You're restless and playful, insecure and damned sexy. Is that enough for now?" "Enough for now," I respond, my throat gone dry…and he holds me tighter. I've already long forgiven his interruption. It seems that I have forgotten what I was working on, anyhow. -fin Motn007@yahoo.com