Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2024 14:53:41 -0400 From: Nick Barnes Subject: A Seaside Summer Cottage Chapter 4 You should consider donating to Nifty! Without support, the wonderful stories we all enjoy on here couldn't be published. The messages I've already received have been great. Especially love hearing how and when you've...finished. I love erotica and the bator lifestyle. Feel free to check me out on ReblogMe (DongB8R), and I always welcome new ideas, photos for inspiration, and general correspondence. I OPEN to anything! Feel free to e-mail me at B8rbro7@gmail.com. A Seaside Summer Cottage--Chapter 4 By Nick Barnes Back on the street, I'm still a little buzzy from the amazing fuck I just had. I haven't been topped like that, maybe ever, and I'm feeling gooey and sensitive and tingly all over. I'm really beginning to love this little town. Something else stirs as I reflect on the fact that I just had porn-level sex...with a stranger...and none of these passersby are even remotely inclined to know it. Keeping this steamy secret only enhances my aftershocks of pleasure. My phone rings, taking me out of my heightened post-coital state. I don't want to answer it, and I should ignore it altogether, but my curiosity takes over, and I glance at the display on the screen. Shit. Artie. "Hey, Artemis," I mumble after clicking the button to answer the call. I've recently avoided a few calls, so I'm sure she'd send the police to find me if I didn't answer this time. "Jesus, Grey. Does your phone even work?" She sounds like she's only half kidding. I smile to myself, thinking about the hot silver fox that just silently pumped his daddy load up my guts, and how it happened because he messaged me on the app--proof that my phone is indeed working. "Yeah... the connection is just a little spotty," I lie. "Okay, well, I'm circling back to Marcus and me visiting you sometime soon. I want to see you! And we--yes, dear, I'm literally telling him now--we have something for you! Just a little silly thing. Nothing to go crazy about, but I want to see you open it!" "Art, you've already done so much... I don't need--" "Of course you don't NEED it, Grey... but it's a gift. So shut the fuck up and tell me when we should visit you!" She cackles as she finishes her thought. I sigh heavily. "Fine... uh..." and I feel silly thinking this much because it's not like I have a schedule... although I did book that Harbor cruise for next Tuesday. "How about sometime next week? After Tuesday?" "Okay... so around the sixteenth? That Thursday work for you?" "Sounds great to me! Will you guys want to spend the weekend? I have a guest--" Artemis cuts me off, "We'll get our own little room. Some boutique hotel called the Jewelry Box Inn? Anyway, Marcus found it, so you know it's expensive and ridiculously gorgeous. But, yes, we'll stay the weekend! I'll confirm once I've booked the room." "Great!" I lie. Fuck. Four days? Four days to entertain them... and not keep up with my exciting... interactions with the locals? And how will this all pan out with Jay? I mean, maybe it won't be so bad because they're not staying in the house. But still...my stomach pangs a bit at all of these details colliding. "Okay, well, Marcus is like freaking out about something, so I have to let you go. Bye!" And suddenly the little street I'm walking on is alive and teeming with people. Like I've just pressed play after a scene in a movie was paused. Directly to my left, I see a little clothing store, and one of the things on my list to treat myself to is a cheesy "I went there" hoodie. Something simple with just the name of the little town printed on it. I try to get one from every place I visit. I walk in, and the statuesque woman behind the counter cheerily greets me. Just as I'm about to tell her what I'm looking for, I see the huge wall of hoodies and other sweatshirts. I decide to pick a blue tie-dyed one because it's beachy as hell here, and why not? Fifty-five dollars before taxes later, I walk out of the store with my purchase in a bag. They printed the words "Thank You" in sand dollars on it. As I stroll along, I sneak some people watching glances, and just like the other day, there are some very healthy and physically attractive men out and about. There's the small cadre of college bros I remember from the other day, and they now have matching rope sailor bracelets. I see two men with matching beards and tropical tank tops walking hand in hand. They're cute, but looking at them reminds me that I don't necessarily want a boyfriend right now. All this hook up energy is too intoxicating. I wonder if Artie and Marcus knew that this part of the Cape was so gay-centric... I mean, it's still a family town, and there are little pods of families here and there, but mostly... lots of hot fucking dudes. One couple crosses my path: a big burly bear type with a thick mustache and his cub. They wear matching T-shirts that have the phrase "Brunch and Butt Stuff" printed on them. Mustache Daddy eyes me up and down and grabs his crotch while making intense eye contact with me. As they pass me, the cub mutters, "Yes, please!" And if it's a mistake, I'll never know, but his arm brushes against mine. That little boost of confidence perks me up, and I decide to mark the occasion with one of those Number 8 coffees I got the other day. I find the same little cafe and walk in, and the same hot barista is there again. He immediately recognizes me and waves me over. Damon is wearing a very tight navy v-neck shirt under his brown work apron, and his arms flex a little as I approach the counter. He has nautical, Sailor Jerry-style tattoo sleeves. Classic chubby birds and a mermaid on a rock. There's a large ship that's fighting against a whirlpool, and I notice two ripped mermen kissing. I decide I'm going to try to flirt with him since he already messaged me, but I'm not really good at it, so I end up saying, "I loved that Number 8 you gave me the other day; I want 8 more." I don't even really know what I was trying to say. Damon sputters a little chuckle, and winks. "Sure, boss!" he says. And he goes right into his work, mixing things and blending it all together with some ice before pouring it into a plastic cup and handing it to me. Next, he leans in real close to me, and he looks around before he very quietly says, "You're so fucking cute, man. I get off at 5:30, and...I'd like to help you get off then too." I choke a little because, damn, he's good. I want to reply with something equally sexy, but I can't process fast enough. Damon waves his hands a little and says, "Look, just give me your address, and if it doesn't work out, like if you're not home, I'll just see you another time. But I gotta play with you." Play with me?! Fuck. That's so hot. The fucking men in this town! So direct! I'm just not used to it at all... I smile and stammer a bit, but the information ends up getting to him. With my coffee, I head back out to the town center, and I find this cute little hole in the wall bookshop, literally called "Little Hole in the Wall". It has shelves and shelves of books, and it smells amazing. Old books and being in love with bookshops is one of the main reasons I became a teacher. I'm looking around, trying to find the British classics, and I realize I have to go to the bathroom. Trudging up to the counter, I sheepishly inquire about the facilities. This waif of a twink sitting behind the register mutters "through that door," without even looking up from his phone. Luckily, there's only one door. Next, I enter a large storage area filled with boxes and folded up cardboard, and to the left is the men's bathroom. The door easily and noiselessly swings open, and once I'm inside, I start to notice some grunting coming from the toilet stall. Naturally, I'm curious, but I don't have the confidence to say anything out loud. Is it pleasure grunting or pain. I finish up at the urinal, and just as I back up, I hear a deep, gruff voice from the stall say, "Fuck that's good. Get that dick in your throat, boy." Curious, I sneak over, and I notice two sets of feet. A sure sign that something kinky is going on here. A different voice from before says, "Do you like that, Daddy?" I hear a gagging gurgling sound as the first voice replies, "Fuck yeah, baby." Instantly bricked up, I figure what the hell, and I start to play with myself, first rubbing and massaging my erection through my pants. Then I release my manhood from the zipper, and I start giving myself long strokes. Up and down, up and down on my meaty shaft. My cock is slicked with precum, and so the almost-frictionless stroking feels incredible. And there's something so hot about jacking off in a bathroom, knowing that two dudes are fucking just a few feet away. I start to softly moan, too. As I twist my palm a little, focusing on the head of my dong, the stall door opens, and I see an adorable chubby guy on his knees slobbering the cock of this massive muscular black man who is standing up and positioned so that we're facing each other when the door opens. The black man's cock is maybe the biggest I've ever seen in real life. It's veiny and slick and the guy on his knees, although making valiant efforts, is unable to get the entirety down his throat. I notice the head is purple and the shaft is a dark chestnut color. It's gotta be at least the length of a ruler and a soda can's thickness around. And his balls are big and bouncy and they hang low. The perfect cock and balls. The black guy makes some intense eye contact with me, and I instinctively enter the bathroom stall, and I get down on my knees so I'm right up on the huge black cock. Without discussing it, the cub moves slightly, and I start joining him on the thick BBC, the man connected to it groaning in sheer delight. His cock even feels massive in my mouth, just the part I'm mouthing. My tongue is entangling with the cub, and everything is slick. And the fact that these are two total strangers adds to the excitement stirring within me. Back home, I'd never even dream of something like this. "Fuck, boys, Imma nut if you keep it up!" He says in his deep, gruff voice. We both pick up our pace, encouraged by our top's words, and the cub and I essentially are making out with his cock in between. The cub reaches over and fondles my rock hard cock, and I return the favor. Everything is cock and lust and sexual energy. "Fuck, son, here it comes!" He grunts, and the cub and I take our mouths off the cock, and lean back a little while he strokes the last few slick pumps, resulting in a massive load spraying over my face and the cub's. Now, the cub stands up, ferociously masturbating his meat, and he turns to face me. I suck on his cock head, tasting his sweet and salty cock sludge, and the big black dude reaches over and pulls on his nipples. The cub groans in ecstasy, and soon my mouth if full of his semen. He grunts with each volley, and with the last one, he pumps his erection deeper into my mouth, ensuring his load is delivered down my throat. "Fuck yeah, take my load!" He whisper-shouts. The black guy and the cub both silently pull their pants up, and they walk out of the stall. I never came, but my cock is rigid and practically bubbling with gooey precum. I tuck it back into my pants, get up, and go to the sink, looking at the cum all over my face. Just then, the bathroom door swings open, and in walks the skinny twink from the counter, so I immediately turn on the faucet and try to make it look like I'm just washing my face. Which, for the record, is what I'm doing anyway. "Brian loves facials; everyone knows that," he mutters as he goes into the bathroom stall. I feel burning in my cheeks because I've been called out, and as soon as I double check that I'm all cleaned up, I wipe my face dry with some paper towels, and head out the door. As I make my way through the bookstore, I see the black man--whom I now know is named Brian--checking out a little old lady who wears a tie dyed wrap dress. In a seamless motion, Brian grabs the lady's credit card, and winks at me. I briskly exit the store, and I'm back out in the real world with many bustling tourists all looking around at the little seaside shops. My head still dizzy with lust, I vow to partake in an activity void of anything remotely sexual. I need to clear my head and do something other than service cock. Right? Then I find the perfect place: a little gift shop called Pirate Cove. I walk in and it's a very over engineered thematic store...to the point it almost feels like it's maybe for children. There are all kinds of pirate accessories and various toy sets. I decide quickly that this is not a place I need to spend much time in. I do pause at the bin of plush parrots on my way out, though, because I'm not a monster. But I don't end up making any purchases. The sun is high in the sky, and I feel myself growing hungry. I promised myself I wouldn't eat at a restaurant for every single meal, so I went food shopping the other day and stocked up the kitchen. I want to save going out for special treats. So I decide to hop on the little scooter and putt back to the cottage for lunch. I figure maybe enough time has passed that Jay can calmly understand why we can't continue whatever it is we're doing. While I ride back, I think of Jay. His gorgeous and sly smile. His smooth bronze skin stretched over defined muscles. I daydream a memory from the school year when he had asked to stay after school for some extra help. We were writing research papers, and he fell behind schedule. He, like most kids, was adorable and helpless and wonderful one on one. When they're not trying to prove something in front of their friends, high schoolers can be quite gentle and sweet. A familiar thickness develops in my crotch, and the vibration of the putting scooter motor doesn't help anything. Before I know it, I'm back. After entering the cottage, I go to the bedroom and put my new sweatshirt away, and then I head to the kitchen to make a sandwich. I eat in silence alone. It's boring, but in a good way. While I'm washing my plate after eating, I look out the kitchen window at the back yard and see a golden Jay lying down in the hammock. He wears only his swim trunks, which are hiked up, revealing his thigh mounds, and he has his hat resting over his face. The pool twinkles turquoise in the sunlight, and even in this innocent, idyllic setting, I feel lust boil up as I watch Jay, who isn't even moving. Perhaps he's napping or listening to music. Putting the plate back in the cupboard after I dried it, I sort of stand in place, not really having an agenda. It seems every time I go downtown, I end up fucking, which isn't bad, but I haven't had this much sex in...well, ever. And I did tell everyone when I left, that I'd be working on my book...so maybe I should actually do something productive. I have this crazy idea that I can write a novel, and even though I've never published anything in my life, and even though I have zero connections in the industry, that I can get it published and even if I don't become a career novelist, I'll always be able to say I got something published. I go to my room to get my laptop, and bring it to the living room. I get myself all set up: some snacks, a bottle of seltzer, and a notebook in case I need to do some traditional paper and pen writing to get going. Opening the cover of my laptop, I wait to see the screen brighten up, but it never does. That's when I see the little red light blinking, indicating that my battery is dead. With a heavy sigh, I get up off the couch, and I go back to my room and open the laptop bag. And, well, fuck. I somehow didn't end up packing my power cable. Like some idiot. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What do I do? I don't think any of the little shops downtown would have a power cable, and I don't really want to drive all the way back to the last city before crossing the bridge into the Cape. I guess I could try Amazon, but even then, I'd have to wait a few days for delivery. Then I remember that Jay has the same kind of computer as I have...I noticed the other night when he moved his stuff in from the pool house. I had tried to make small talk, so we had something other than our dicks to talk about, and that's when he explained the gaming community he's part of. I got lost, but mostly because his eyes lit up to sparkling effervescent blue diamonds when he spoke about his hobby, and damn it, that only made him so much more sexy. I quietly and quickly make my way into his room, and as soon as I open the door, I'm met with the aroma of his intense teenage musk. It's a little sweaty, a lot like cum, and a bit of weed, too. Fuck. I inhale deeply; my nostrils make a slight whistling sound. It smells so fucking good in here. I instantly bone up, and I can taste his cum in my mouth from the other night. My mouth fills with saliva, and I swallow hard, imagining he has just blasted his sperm in my greedy mouth. That's when I see them: a pair of his boxers draped over the computer chair. Fuck me. Just right there. In front of me. Without remembering any of my reservations from before, I grab them, and before I know it, I'm rubbing my hard on through my shorts while I use my other hand to huff the teen scent out of Jay's balled up boxers I am pressing my whole face into. I start to groan as the scent floods all my senses, and my mind can only focus on one thought: Jay's beautiful rigid cock. Little pictures of every lustful detail from the past few days of our sexual encounters flip through my mind, and I could almost shoot my load from this one activity. But I haven't cum all day, and I'm enjoying the powerful build up. Then almost as quickly as I started this perverted activity, I toss his boxers down, and I even shake my head a little. Computer first! Cock later! I think to myself as I find his laptop. I see the cord, and I confirm that it is the same kind I need, and so I just snag it, promising I'll officially ask him the next time I see him. If I stay in here any longer, I will blow my load, and that will be very difficult to explain. Walking out the door of his room, I look through the window of the back door, and he looks like he hasn't moved even a centimeter...I'm not worried that he's dead, but I feel like I should go check on him, right? Just to, like, make sure he's okay. Plus, this way, I can more or less ask permission to borrow his cord. So it's purely platonic that I'm going outside to see Jay, and it has nothing to do with the taste of his cum I still have in my mouth, right? Right. As soon as I open the door to go outside, I feel this gentle refreshing breeze, and it's so bright and clear outside that I feel so much energy coursing through my body. Sea air really is special. A few paces across the patio, I inch up to Jay's hammock. I hear the gentlest snores from under his hat. Okay. So he's alive. And asleep. I did what I came out here to do. And I don't want to wake him up, disrupting his relaxing nap, just for borrowing a charging cable. So I can just turn around and head back in, right? Except at the last moment, I notice it: Jay must be having a very stimulating dream because his cock is tenting up his shorts so much, I could camp down there. Suddenly, my mouth fills with thick saliva, and the musky scent of his room floods back into my senses. Without even thinking, I kneel down and pull back the band of his bathing suit, releasing his meaty dong. I inhale deeply, the scent causing my own cock to stiffen. I lower my head down, and take his cock in my mouth. Snores begin to mix with soft groans as I engulf Jay's teen erection in my greedy mouth. His tight, smooth cock flesh almost buttery in my mouth. I don't even know who I am anymore. Something about this place and this week has made me so bold and so fucking horny. Bobbing up and down, I get a really good rhythm, and at some point Jay is awake because now he's muttering filthy little comments and making grunts here and there. And he's massaging my head, not fucking my face, but keeping me in rhythm. I alternate using my hand to rub his shaft while suckling his cock head, and taking all of him inside my mouth and throat. A few times, I reach down and fondle his balls, really working him over. While deepthroating his underage hog, I reach up to his nipples and give them little tweaks. Jay is positively writhing as I move onto giving him a hummer. I make little vibrations with my voice as I'm slobbering up and down, and I can tell he fucking loves it because his moaning is growing in intensity and getting higher in pitch. "Oh fuck, I'm so close," he whimpers, and I pick up my speed and intensity, every few bobs, there's a little gentle popping sound as his slobbery knob exits my lips. I can feel his legs trembling, and his cock thickens. I rub his perineum, providing pressure to the perfect spot. Suddenly, with the force of a gunshot, there's a violent ringing in my ears. Jay starts to huff and laugh, as his orgasm is more or less ruined, and he pulls out his cellphone. His cock remains thick and swollen as little gobs of jizz ooze out. Driven by cum lust, I lean over and slurp up what little he's released, savoring the youthful taste. He bucks his legs in pleasure, and giggling from the overstimulation, he pushes me away. I've fallen back a little, and now I'm on my ass on the concrete looking up at Jay who's twisting in the hammock, trying to do something with his phone. Even in this awkward erratic movement, he's gorgeous. A specimen of sheer god-like body form. I hear a distant voice from the phone's receiver call out "Hello? Hello?" I don't recognize the voice, but also why would I? Now Jay's face drops when he realizes he's accidentally answered the call. He mouths the word "Fuck!" and wincing holds the phone up to his ear. He clears his throat a little and ekes out, "Hello, Gran."