Gay Erotic Stories

Strange Bedfellows Indeed PART 1 Chapter 1 Struggling once again with insomnia, as a large volume of the “History of New York State” rested heavily on her lap, Hillary sat up in bed doing research. At 2:44 a.m., in actuality, Hillary was trying to find the dullest thing she could that would perhaps help her fall asleep. She had unfortunately built up a tolerance to the prescription pills she’d been taking and a good night’s sleep had become a distant memory. In reality it was unavoidable, she had a lot on her mind and a lot of life altering decisions to make in the coming year. Looking down over her reading glasses at her husband sleeping soundly beside her, Hillary bit her lip from jealousy and contempt. As he lay there, dead to the world, his soft dick was covered in his own cum from their very quick and one sided fuck session a half an hour earlier. Hillary laughed softly to herself looking down at the small piece of flesh resting between her husband’s legs, realizing that the thing laying there literally cost the country millions of dollars, almost cost the man it was attached to the presidency, and would still perhaps cost them their marriage. But looking down at his flaccid member, Hillary realized it still seemed rather content as well at the moment also. As well it should, Bill had gotten his, as was his habit, leaving Hillary turned on just enough to care but left without any kind of needed release. She had thought daily about cheating on him, many of the male white house interns were in fact quite handsome, and just how poetic would that be she thought. She could pull a few strings, get the guy alone and have a meaningless tryst with a kid who’d never forget that he slept with the first lady, in her house. But that wasn’t her style; besides, she had a likely senatorial campaign to worry about, and didn’t need any hint of impropriety screwing it up. Sadly, she couldn’t deny either, that the seething rumble in her loins needed distinct attention as well. As the hardbound version of the leather-bound book she was reading rested on her stomach, Hillary couldn’t tune out the incessant throbbing deep within her. For all her pomp and circumstance, she was just a normal woman who had needs and at that moment Hillary simply needed to be fucked by someone or something, long and hard, and needed to cum by any means possible. As her dainty white hand slowly disappeared under the weight of the book resting on her torso, inside her long white robe, Hillary inched it ever so gently towards the slick hairlined rim of her vagina. Suddenly however, Bill grunted slightly and rolled over towards his wife, draping his arm across her chest, forcing Hillary to stop her private ordeal before it had even began. Frustrated once again, Hillary sighed, “Back to work,” as she continued reading about the state that perhaps she’d be representing in the new millennium. For the umpteenth time, her gratification would have to be put on hold. Hillary would once again submerge her urgent primal needs by trying to succeed in the political arena, she told herself. And to succeed there, there was a lot of work to do. First thing she needed to do was to expand her reach into a state that she had never resided in, reaching out to all the potential voters she could. Knowing that the Democratic Party held a stronghold on the minority vote, Hillary made a note to herself to talk to her strategists about finding the right person to to be seen with as a public relations ploy to nail down that trusty vote. Back to the grind of her senatorial planning, her unquenched lust would be repressed once again for the time being as she continued her work. As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains of the Clinton bedroom, Hillary opened her eyes slightly seeing that in fact she was alone in bed. Her husband’s wake up call had come an hour earlier, and he had already showered, dressed and headed downstairs for his morning briefings. Without any pressing plans for the morning, Hillary was tempted to roll over and go back to bed, the past night’s sleep being better than any she had in the past few weeks. Once awake however, she realized falling back to sleep would be very difficult to do. Rising from the covers, Hillary pulled her long ivory colored terrycloth robe over her long silky white nightgown, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and called down to her secretary to find out what was on the docket today. Hillary also passed along word to her secretary to get in touch with her campaign manager to work on finding someone who could help her nail down the minority vote in New York. That done, Hillary let herself out of her bedroom door to the area outside where her morning coffee and bagels were always neatly laid out for her. Saying good morning to the stoic secret service agents posted on each side of the large swinging doors, Hillary made herself a cup of decaf and grabbed a sesame seed bagel before retreating back into her bedroom to take a shower. As Hillary sauntered back into the bedroom, she flipped on the TV on the nightstand to the Today Show. Sighing immediately, as the all too familiar image of Monica Lewinsky filled the screen, Hillary turned away and made her way into the bathroom. While she had “accepted” her husband’s “sickness” long ago, it still made Hillary stew to see the chubby smiling face of that cheap whore on the TV. Turning on the shower and letting it roar to life, Hillary slid off her robe, hanging it on the hook beside the shower, slipped off the thin straps of her night gown one at a time down over her pale shoulders, then peeled the luxurious silk fabric down her body slowly as the bathroom began filling with steam from the rushing water behind her. It struck her suddenly, as she watched her naked body slowly disappear in the fogged up mirror, that once again she had gone to sleep the night before unfulfilled, and the demons torturing her libido were once again beginning to stir within her as she prepared to take a long relaxing hot shower. Cupping her 34C breasts tightly in her hands as the steam from the shower rose around her, Hillary took pride in the fact that they were still quite firm, only a slight sag from the inevitable cruel result of time. Once again was pleased that she had decided against the implants that her PR people had suggested a year earlier. As she tweaked her growing nipples playfully between her fingertips, Hillary was rather pleased with the round white orbs in her hands. Steeping into the shower, allowing the searing water to wash over her, Hillary thought absently about the secret service agents outside her door, so strong and silent as they went about their duty protecting her. Hillary thought momentarily if they were thinking about her and how she looked as she showered no more than twenty feet from them. She wondered if they pictured her naked writhing body, that she was currently exploring with her eager curious hands, as the streaming water coursed over every crevice of her petite frame. Whether it was her lust or not making her think about it, Hillary wondered what each of those men thought about behind the darkness of their sunglasses as they stood lookout every morning when she would stroll out of bed and promenade in front of them wearing nothing but her nightgown and a robe. “Did they want to fuck me?” Hillary would say softly to herself under the humm of the water, telling herself over and over again, “yes damnit, they do!” The image of those strong stoic handsome men, dressed in suits with a gun on their hip protecting her, sent a rapid jolt of electricity down her spine, cresting deep within her vagina. Innocently, Hillary placed the red nail of her fingertip onto her rising clit, soaking in the initial wetness from her deprived pussy as it mixed with the languid flow coming from the shower above. As she slowly spun her fingers around her moistening cunt, Hillary closed her eyes and fantasized about several of the men from her recent past that she had almost had affairs with. It struck her with a pang of guilt however thinking about these men. Like Maggie O’Connell’s character on “Northern Exposure”, it seemed every man Hillary tried getting intimate with, ended up dying of rather mysterious causes. She had felt herself gradually falling in love with Vince Foster years earlier, he was such a romantic and always had time to listen to her while Bill was off doing his appointed rounds, but then he turned up dead of an apparent self inflicted gunshot wound in a DC park. Then three years earlier, Hillary had a very heavy series of flirtatious events with one of Clinton’s closest friends, Ron Brown. During a commerce press conference once, Ron was standing behind Hillary in the throng of people, and grabbed her hand in front of him and pulled it back to him, placing it on the fully erect ridge in his pants. Rather than pulling it away, Hillary kept her hand on the pulsing log in Ron’s pants, kneading it between her fingers for a long glorious moment. For the next few days, Hillary would close her eyes and relive how the fullness of his manhood felt in her hand, but sadly before they could ever consummate a relationship, Ron Brown was killed tragically in a plane crash in Bosnia. Bathing herself in the mist, the thoughts of her past frustrations did little to quell her present needs, in fact it made her more desperate for release. Suddenly out of nowhere another familiar image floated back into Hillary’s head. Monica Lewinsky’s sarcastic smiling face welled up again in Hillary’s head causing Hillary to visible cringe behind the sanctuary of the shower curtain. Still, Hillary couldn’t deny another sad sorry fact about the whole Bill/ Monica, Bill/ Gennifer, Bill/Paula Jones debacle. As she let the hot water bead and flow over every inch of her nude body, brushing the water out of her eyes allowing them to fixate on the shiny shower head in front of her, Hillary knew exactly what her mind was going to force her body to do. Turning off the shower briefly, fumbling with the attachment, Hillary finally screwed the massage nozzle directly over the showerhead, and then anxiously turned on the shower once again. The head of the shower massage sprang to life between her legs as it filled with water, causing it to lift noticeably off the floor of the shower, much the same way a cock would when it becomes erect. Bending her soaked body down, Hillary grasped the jet spray nozzle in her hand and pulled it up close to her. Feeling the powerful jet like rush of the water wash over her breasts, easing the head of the nozzle so that the spray encompassed both her entire sensitive breasts, one at a time, Hillary tried desperately to keep her swaying knees from giving out on her. Letting the water flow like a rushing river between her cleavage, Hillary eased the spray lower, over her pale belly, across her waistline until the rapid beads of water began teasing the expectant folds of her drenched pubic mound. As Hillary eased the large head of the massager closer and closer to the pink puckered folds of her needy pussy, pushing it further into her aching crotch, suddenly Hillary realized just how turned on she had actually got. A unexpected jolt of adrenaline rushed through her 50 year old body causing her to yelp as the water began cascading down onto the raised bud of her clitoris. Not wanting to cum so quickly, Hillary pulled the jet spray back up her body, allowing herself to regroup. As she once again refreshed herself by allowing the water to flow over her shoulders, across her chest and down her back, Hillary replayed helplessly in her head the visions of Monica Lewinsky, on her knees between Bill’s legs giving her husband a blow job, as he stood gleaming above her. As Bill’s cock hung out of his blue trousers, Hillary pictured the eager young bitch looking up at him with her big brown eyes while she licked the president’s cock. On some level, Hillary understood totally the shear carnal pull of the moment for the young intern. Understanding the eroticism of power in sex, Hillary could rationalize how much of a rush it must have been for the young girl to suck off the most powerful man in the world. And in all honesty, Hillary knew she was jealous at the way the young girl took exactly what she wanted from her husband in the oval office. As the rushing water seemed to engulf her, Hillary couldn’t deny it, the thought of that cock hungry bitch on her knees blowing her husband caused Hillary to grind suggestively behind the shower curtain, her hips rotating lewdly as one hand dipped back into her pussy and the other held the shower massage against her ass cheeks letting the flow of water jet against her sensitive pubic folds from behind. As Hillary let the endless flow of water course over her alabaster ass cheeks, she couldn’t deny either the thought that if there was a naked man standing there in front of her in the shower, his hands confidently clutching his cock as he stroked it watching her bathe, that she couldn’t resist falling, like a slut herself, to her knees and doing the same exact thing, looking up at the nameless man for his smirking approval as she licked her mouth over every inch of his manhood. Easing the head of the massager further between her legs from behind, the hose carrying the water rubbed like a hot coil between her ass cheeks and across the length of her opened, expectant vaginal lips. Finally concentrating the flow of water directly against the highly charged opening of her seething snatch, Hillary Clinton pressed the full force of the water jet into her vagina, sending herself down the path to a quick but very powerful self manipulated orgasm. Concealed in her self imposed darkness, with the picture of Monica lewdly kneeling in front of her husband as Bill fingered Monica’s ass while she sucked him off, Hillary turned the spray so that it collided directly with the most sensitive areas of her pulsating pussy, causing her knees to buckle and forcing her to fall like a rag doll against the support of the warm wet shower wall in front of her. Hillary steadied herself against the wall, so that her cheek rested against it tightly, muffling her groans of lust as they helplessly escaped her opened mouth between her deep gasping breaths. As the thoughts of Monica swirled in her head, they mixed with crude images of the secret service men posted outside with their cocks obscenely jutting out of their flies, brutally erect, as she imagined herself walking by them into the hallway after leaving her bedroom. Picturing the men stroking their massive erections while they leered at her, Hillary pressed her face tight against the wall of the shower, jamming the shower head between her fleshy white thighs so that the jet spray was held securely in place allowing her to lift her hands to her breasts, squeezing them wantonly, as the water continued to shoot relentlessly against the entirety of her pubic region. “OHHHHHURRRRGGGGGRRHHH ... AHHHH SHHAAAAA.. AHHHHHHH. MAAAAA GODDDDDDDDD! MMMMMMMMMFUUCKKKK!,” Hillary cried as her face tensed and her dark blonde hair matted against the slick warm wall of the shower, the sizzling water slamming against her pussy, then oozing like a stream down the insides of her thighs, mixed with plentiful amounts of her own languid vaginal juices. Falling to her knees from her powerful orgasm, Hillary knelt there trying to catch her breath as the water continued flowing against the now ultra sensitive folds of her relieved pussy. Reaching up to the shower handle, with a exhausted gasp, Hillary turned off the shower, feeling the water flowing between her legs turn from a rush to a trickle. Pulling herself up and out of the shower on rubbery knees, Hillary dried herself off, dressed, and put on her makeup to head downstairs to begin her days work. As she made her way down the long winding stairway, dressed in a buttoned down red business suit, Hillary still clearly felt the traces of the water jet still flowing incessantly against the insides of her crotch, a feeling that would stay with her for the rest of the day. As she made her way into her office, her secretary, Connie Vandermere told Hillary that her campaign manager was on the phone. Picking up the receiver from her secretary’s hand, Hillary said “Hi Carl, what do you have for me?” Carl replied, “We’ve got the perfect person for you Ms. Clinton, if you want to nail down a few votes in New York!” Part 2 coming soon, thanks for reading!