Gay Erotic Stories

No matter how many times I’d run up that final incline, which wasn’t particularly steep, I still found it hard and had to really struggle for breath as I came towards the end of my regular 45 minute run. However, making a final sharp left turn brought me back on to the flat and some relief for my bursting lungs, marking the signal to slow down to no more than a gentle jog as I entered the last 400 yards or so remaining before reaching home and the hot shower which awaited.

Like most Sundays at this time, just after 4.45 on a gloomy and cold early January day in 1988 and with darkness rapidly closing in, the road ahead was practically deserted. As far as I could see, there was no one on my side but in the distance I could make out just one individual walking towards me on the opposite footpath. Nothing unusual in that and, as we closed but were still some distance apart, I glanced across and thought that whoever it was was looking at me too but I thought nothing of it. I looked away and continued my slow jog home, my breathing becoming easier but still heavy. As we drew closer, I could not help but glance across again and this time I was left in no doubt. The stranger was definitely looking at me.

We continued to look at each other from opposite sides of the road as we drew level. As far as I could tell in the deepening gloom barely pierced by the orange street lighting, he was about 5’7”, balding and of stocky build with a ruggedly handsome face, aged late 50s or early 60s, wearing what looked like a dark leather bomber type jacket and dark trousers. Just my type and just my luck, I thought, as the realisation dawned that, even if he was gay or bi, he was unlikely to be interested in me in my hot and very sweaty state, hair plastered to my head. In a moment we had, like the proverbial ships in the night, passed each other going in opposite directions, necks craning for one final glance as we went our separate ways.

Still some two hundred yards or so from home, I slowed to what was little more than walking pace, part of the usual warming down routine but on this day with the ulterior motive of enabling me to look round comfortably to see if I was still being observed. To my surprise, he was still watching me, almost walking backwards whilst doing so. My heart rate, still pounding from the exertions of the run, increased and my cock began to stir within my running shorts, unhindered by a jockstrap as I always preferred to run commando.

On seeing that he was still watching me, I stopped jogging and walked on for a few paces before coming to a halt. I checked again to see that he was still watching. He was, still walking very slowly away. With nothing to lose, and for all he knew it could have been part of my exercise routine, I faced away again but instead of walking on, I bent over and touched my toes, knowing that my skimpy shorts would not leave much to the imagination if he was still watching me and genuinely interested. I repeated this exercise a few times and then glanced around again. He was still there but stood watching me closely, or so I imagined in the 50 yards or so distance which now separated us.

We stared at each other for a few moments and then he began to turn away. As he did so, he took his right hand out of his pocket and moved it to his groin area where, as far as I could tell, it hovered for a few seconds before being placed back in his pocket. With that gesture, he completed the turn and began to walk towards what I assumed was his destination. After a few paces, he turned round and glanced at me again. I was frozen to the spot, uncertain as to what to do. Was it a signal to follow or was I simply imagining that, despite my sweaty state, I had just been cruised and invited to, well, who knew what?

I pondered what to do for a few moments. Should I head for home or should I follow, trusting my instinct? My cock was still stirring and so I let that decide. I had nothing to lose. After all I had, to my knowledge, never seen this man before and possibly never would again and so any embarrassment that I might end up feeling if I was wrong would soon wear off. So I began to follow, matching his pace so the gap of about 60 yards or so remained between us. Periodically he would glance round to see if I was still following. Once, as he passed under a street light, he turned and I could have sworn that he was smiling and nodding in encouragement but, given the distance between us, that could have been wishful thinking on my part.

He was now approaching the opposite corner to the sharp left I had taken. This too, approached from this reverse direction, was another sharp left into a street I knew well as it was part of my regular running route and I had run down it earlier. He took the corner and quickly disappeared from sight, my view obscured by a small block of flats on the corner. I crossed the road and quickened my pace, fearful that I might lose him if he went into one of the first houses.

As I turned the corner, he was nowhere in sight. “Damn”, I thought, but as I was about to curse my stupidity more, I noticed that the front door of the house two houses down on the opposite side was open, the path in front of it lit up by the hall light. I walked the short way and stopped in front of the open door but still on the opposite side of the road. It was a typical 3 storey Victorian town house which once would have marked the town boundary. I looked in and he was stood there, halfway down the hall, immediately under the hall light, as if expecting me. From the halo of the light cast, what remained of his hair appeared short and golden, his bald crown shining in the glare, and from the short distance between us my initial impressions of his appearance seemed to be confirmed.

As my heart began to race again, he gestured for me to come in. I crossed the road, opened the gate and walked up the path towards the front door, a mixture of nerves and excitement. As I approached, he moved forwards and held the door open for me to pass through. As I did so, he closed the door. Did I imagine it or did his free hand gently brush against my cock as I passed? Before I could speak, he asked me to follow him into a room off the hall. I entered a large room which looked like it was being used as a study, the large bay window looking out on to the street. He moved quickly to close the blinds, turned and smiled at me, the smile lighting up his kind, rugged face, laughter lines spreading from his dark, piercing blue eyes. Early 60s, I decided as we quickly looked each other up and down, me in my sweaty running gear and still sweating quite heavily and him smartly dressed in what looked to be a comfortable, well-worn in dark brown leather jacket and matching dark brown corduroy trousers. A scarlet red scarf was wrapped around his neck and tucked into his jacket, perhaps adding to the stocky appearance. I smiled back and was about to speak but he beat me to it.

Moving back passed me, and this time there was no imagining the gentle cock squeeze as he went by, he said “I bet you could do with some cold water” and disappeared back into the hall to, I assumed, the kitchen. Gathering my thoughts, I looked around the room. A large desk faced the window. On it sat what would in those days have been a very modern VDU of the type now only seen preserved in museums. A fire place dominated the centre of the right hand wall, glowing embers of the real fire adding comforting and welcome warmth which contrasted sharply to the cold of the outside. Alcoves either side of the fireplace were lined with bookshelves filled with books, mainly historical suggesting an academic or teacher, and some videos and LPs. Above the fireplace was an ornate mirror which had a replica on the opposite wall, against which rested a dark burgundy coloured two seater Chesterfield type sofa. The only other chair in the room was a swivel desk chair which, in colour if not style, matched the sofa. At either side of the sofa stood matching ornate occasional tables with coasters on the top of each and a telephone on top of one. A TV and VCR occupied the corner to the right of the fireplace and a music centre stood in the middle of the wall opposite the window.

Just as I finished my observations, he returned. He smiled again and handed me a large glass of cold water. He was also carrying a towel. He had removed his jacket and scarf and, through the open top button of his shirt, I spotted a clump of thick, golden hair matching in colour that on his head. My cock stirred again at the thought of the rest of his chest being so covered. After I had I drunk some of the water, he took the glass off me and handed me the towel. “I thought you might want to dry off” he said, again smiling in a reassuring manner. I quickly wiped my face, arms and legs and then ran the towel over my hair. As an afterthought, I lifted the front of my drenched running shirt and gave my chest a quick rub down. I handed back the towel in exchange for the glass of water. “Turn around and I’ll dry your back for you” he said with a twinkle in his eye. I did as asked and he lifted my shirt and started to pat my back. Unexpectedly, he then slightly lowered my shorts and rubbed the towel over my taught buttocks, briefly squeezing each one. He then gently ran the towel down my crack. He removed the towel which, I saw through one of the ornate mirrors, he then sniffed briefly before stretching past me and folding it on the desk chair.

“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable” he said, indicating the sofa. I sat on the left hand side and he quickly joined me. As I said earlier, it was a two seater sofa so we were sat quite close together. Without touching me, he turned his body towards me and he placed his left arm behind my head on the top of the back of the sofa. Although there was no touching, I was aware of its presence which only added to my increasing state of excitement. We finally introduced each other and exchanged some small talk. He was 63, a retired teacher and from the same part of the country as me. In fact, I had gone to sixth form in his home town. We talked about how we had both ended in the Black Country, likes and dislikes and so on.

After taking another drink from my glass, I turned to place it on the occasional table next to me. As I placed the glass down, facing slightly away from him, he placed his right hand on my cock which was now almost fully erect and with the head clearly visible above the elasticated waistband of my skimpy shorts. He started to stroke it gently and in no time I was fully erect. “I don’t need to ask about your sexual preference” he said and, leaning in towards me whilst at the same time gently pushing my head towards his with his left hand, he kissed me. Gently at first but then more urgently, he continued to kiss me, probing with his tongue, chewing on my lips and increasing my excitement. At the same time, he continued to gently stroke my cock which remained within the confines of the running shorts.

Not wishing to be left out, I began to rub my hand over his chest and belly which, as I had hoped, had a bit of a pot but was quite firm. I opened a couple of buttons and moved in. I was not disappointed as his chest was lovely and hairy. I opened a couple of more buttons to enable me to play with his nipples and, as I did so, his hand finally slipped under the elasticated waistband and grabbed hold of my hard cock. The touch was electric and a shock of desire ran through me. I moved my hand up his chest and gently squeezed a nipple. I was just about to do the same with the other when we were disturbed by the shrill ringing of the telephone. He extracted his tongue and hand and, glancing at his watch, said “Excuse me but I am expecting a call”. He moved off the sofa around to the table with the phone on and answered.

I tried to avoid listening in by examining the books on the bookshelves, not really paying attention to the titles but wondering if my fun had ended before it had begun. Glancing up at the mirror above the fireplace I saw that he had turned around. Furthermore, he had opened his fly and pulled out his cock which was standing proudly to attention. He caught my eye and, without interrupting his conversation, beckoned me over. Without hesitation, I moved towards him, sank to my knees and began sucking. Like me, he was uncut, of similar length but of bigger girth. Using my mouth, I pushed back his foreskin to reveal his large bell end in all its glory, wondering if the foreskin would pull back easily whilst erect or would it, like mine, remain stuck behind the head until it started to go limp. I licked greedily around the end, paying particular attention to the piss hole too.

I gradually began to take the shaft in my mouth until most of it was being worked with my tongue. I hadn’t mastered deep throating then, I still haven’t and I guess I never will now, but I knew, and still know, my limitations. As long as he did not thrust too deeply, I would be fine, and as he had shown no signs of doing that, I continued to suck merrily away, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum in my salivating mouth. Occasionally I would glance up to catch his eye, checking I was doing OK, totally oblivious to his phone conversation. As for my own cock, it was still straining against the confines of my shorts but I was in no hurry to release it.

As I continued giving my blow job, I heard him laugh and looked up inquisitively. “Actually, I’ve got somebody here with me now. Do you want to hear him?” Before the strangeness of this question hand sunk in, he reached down with his spare hand and pushed against my head, forcing more of his cock into my mouth. At the same time, he put the mouth piece of the phone close to my mouth so that whoever was on the other end could hear as I started to gag on his cock. After a couple of seconds, he eased off for a second or two, and then repeated so that I would gag again. Ordinarily, I would have objected to this and got out of the situation but something happened which made the pain worthwhile. Each time I gagged, a shock wave went up my cock making it seem as if I was about to cum. I still don’t know why, perhaps it was because I was still trapped by the waistband of my shorts, but, whatever it was, it was a very strange but wonderful experience. Has this happened to any of you?

After what seemed like ages but was probably no more than a minute or so, he let go of my head and I was able to compose myself and continue controlled sucking again. After a short time my ears picked up again as I heard him say “you know him, you’ve seen him running past here several times and I think you said that you had lectured him”. I looked up quizzically and he smiled at me, continuing his conversation which, as far as I could make out, concerned how I had ended up back at his house. I was curious to know whether he had previously been told I was gay by whoever was on the other end of the phone, someone who, apparently, knew me, had lectured me and knew or suspected I was gay. Just as I was thinking which of my lecturers that might be (and wondering if I had missed out on something!), the conversation ended as my host said, “I’ll call you later, I’m going to fuck him now” . With that, he put down the phone and pulled me to my feet. He turned me around so that I was facing the arm of the sofa. I sensed he had bent down and then gathered he had taken off his shoes. I then heard him undo his belt, unfasten and step out of his trousers. He then undid the rest of his shirt which he threw onto the sofa. Standing behind me, he raised my running vest and lifted it over my head, tossing it on to the sofa too. He ran his hands down my body, stopping to squeeze tightly my erect nipples. He continued down my body and pulled down my shorts, finally releasing my hard cock form its elasticated prison. I stepped out of my shorts as he reached round and stroked my cock which was leaking heavy pre-cum. I knew it would not take much to take me over the edge. He pulled me into him and I felt the warmth of his body press against mine, his cock pressing into my crack.

He gently pushed my shoulders forward which I interpreted as an order to bend over the arm of the sofa and so I did. I could smell the leather which only heighted my sense of excitement and expectation. His hands caressed my buttocks and slowly parted the cheeks. His fingers began to explore the hole, first one wet one and then a second entering me, massaging and stretching the opening. I heard him spit and assumed that he had lubricated his cock with his saliva as the next thing I knew he had withdrawn his fingers and his cock was teasing my hole. I knew it was going to hurt but also knew the pain would ease and that it would be worth it.

He pushed in and stopped as I gasped in pain. I assumed the bell end had successfully entered me. He began to move back and forwards slowly, gradually increasing the forward thrusts so that more of his cock entered me. With one final thrust, I knew he was fully inside as I felt his heavy balls slap against me. “Good boy” he said, “all in now” and he began to fuck me slowly. The pain gradually eased to be replaced by pleasure as a regular rhythm was established and I was soon able to meet his forward thrusts with my own backwards thrusts. After a while and without warning, he reached around and was able to grab my cock which was covered with pre-cum and which he was able to use to as a lubricant to work my shaft. It didn’t take long before I was groaning as spasms shot through me and I came profusely over the front of the arm of sofa.

Sensing I had been fully drained, he increased the rate of his thrusts. Before long he let out a groan of pleasure as he held a final thrust deep inside me and released his load. Several more, gentler thrusts followed as he ensured that he too was fully spent inside me before, after a while, slowly withdrawing.

He pulled me up and, to my surprise, got on his knees and took my still glistening cock in his mouth, gently caressing it and cleaning it of any remaining cum. He then used his fingers to wipe my cum off the sofa which, again to my surprise, he then put in his mouth and licked off. He stood up and pulled me towards him and kissed me, again using his tongue to open my lips and mouth so that he could kiss me deeply. His mouth was still full of my cum and we kissed that way until all of the cum had been shared by us.

When I finally left, it had grown much colder but the lingering glow from my cock and arse was more than enough to keep me warm on the short journey home. Planned shower was replaced by luxurious long bath as I went over the events of the day and contemplated what was to be the first of many encounters before we both headed off to pastures new a few years later. As for the mystery lecturer, that’s another story!