Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2024 15:01:07 -0400
From: Nick Barnes <b8rbro7@gmail.com>
Subject: A Seaside Summer Cottage Chapter 5

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A Seaside Summer Cottage--Chapter 5

By Nick Barnes


I'm sitting on my knees, a foot or so away from Jay, who's still in the
hammock, his slimy dick still out, as he talks to his grandmother. A few
things enter my mind. One, I've basically become a total slut on this
vacation. I've never really had sex multiple times in one day, let alone
multiple partners. Two, I was supposed to merely check on Jay, not molest
him by giving him a blow job while he slept. Three, I really am supposed
to be working on my great American novel, and this teenage stud is
distracting me. At least he's basically eighteen, so that makes me feel
better.

"Got it, Gran. No worries!" Jay says, winking at me while he wraps up
his conversation. "So when should I expect--oh, okay. Sure thing... Oh?
The AirBnB guest?" Jay makes a dramatic look at me, and then he grabs
his erection, winking at me again. "Yeah, he's all set. I'm showing
him all the ropes." Another wink from my teenaged lover, complete with a
cock grab. It dawns on me which specific ropes he's referencing in his
double entendre. And now he's got me thinking about the ropes of cum
he's been showing me.

Fuck, he's smooth. The audacity of youth, I suppose. I mean, I was never
that confident when I was his age, but he has that youthful charisma that
never reveals any worry. Lucky bastard.

Jay taps his screen, hanging up the phone, and he starts to stumble out
of the hammock while simultaneously packing his big, hard dick back into
his bathing suit. So now he's standing over me while I kneel in front of
him, and I look up at him, and goddamn, he's beautiful from every
fucking angle. From down here, his pecs are nipple-tipped mounds, and his
defined abs lead to the "V" shape of his lower torso, the bottom point
of the V pointing to his powerful, and still somewhat erect, cock.

"Can I...um...help you finish, Jay?" I ask. I really fucking need his
full load. This seventeen year old god has awoken something in me that I
don't have control over. It's different than the silver fox from this
morning; different than BONERBUD; different than anyone I've had sex
with. It's lustful, dark, and a little scary...but exciting all the same.
I think all of this is expressed in the face I give him, while I'm on my
knees, looking up at him, begging to make him have a full orgasm. At this
point, I don't even care about my own orgasm.

With a confident, almost douchey, smirk, Jay shakes his head "no." He
winks at me again, and says real low, "I'll tell you when I want you to
finish me off."

And, fuck, if I'm not legitimately almost devastated that I can't
swallow his load right now. But also, I'm so much more intensely aroused
at the thought that he is denying me pleasure. Where is this slight
dominance coming from?

Stumbling up onto my feet, I ask, "How's Gran?" I hope this will
lighten the mood, change the subject quickly, and get my mind off of
sucking Jay's perfect teenage cock, and the feeling of it plunging down
my throat...or when it fills me up deep in my guts.

Turns out, Jay's parents need him to take his younger brother, Liam,
who's fifteen, for the weekend. Something about mixed up plans and
last-minute travel issues.

"She told me to tell you that because of all this, she's going to
refund you some money. But  I promise Liam is cool. I mean, he's a
dipshit because he's my little brother, but he's a good dude. I think
you'll really like him."

This gives me pause because I can't really read Jay as we walk back into
the cottage. When he says that I'll "really like him," what does he
mean by that? I almost ask him but then the damn app goes off in my
pocket.

"I know about that app, by the way, Greyson," Jay says, slathering so
much sexual tension into saying my first name.

"I'm sure you do," I mutter. What is he playing at?

"And I've even hooked up with some guys from it," he adds. Now we're
in the living room, and we sit on the love seat next to each other. For
the record, I sat down first, and he immediately sits right next to me,
not allowing much daylight between us.

"Okay..." I say while I click on the app, and I see I have a message
from DEMONDAMON, the tight little barista from downtown. I click the app
away, assuring myself I'll read it later.

"And some guys, you know, like to share stories about their other hook
ups when they're fooling around with you. Know what I mean?" Jay says,
taking his pipe out and packing the bowl. The weed smells sweetly green
and sour and very strong.

Now I'm picturing Jay fooling around with someone else,and I wonder what
other kinds of guys he's had sex with. And what about back in school?
Other football studs? Other...teachers? The comment he made about sharing
hook ups settles in, and I'm a little thrown off. I squint my eyes,
turning to face him. "I don't think I do, actually," I say. I stare at
him, using the doubtful look I conjure on my face to indicate he must
explain himself.

He starts to puff while lighting up. He inhales deeply, and silently
exhales a stream of smoke. The sticky, thick smoke hangs in the air like
little rain clouds. He does this again, in silence. I start to feel the
effects of a little contact high. A few of his coughing fits later, I
continue, "What, exactly, are you trying to say, Jay?"

He hands me his pipe, and I take it because at this point, what the fuck,
right? I breathe in the sticky smoke, hold it in, and exhale. Fewer
coughs than my teen companion.

"Well, Greyson," he says real slathery again, "I know all about
your...extracurricular activities downtown," he says with his big,
gorgeous, shit-eating grin.

"Oh," I say, sinking back into the couch. For good measure, I take
another big hit. Fuck. This kid's got me by the fucking balls. And I
kind of love it. There's something so compelling about being more or
less dominated by this teenager.

"Yeah. I heard about the guy from yesterday, and the silver fox from
this morning."

Fuck. How did he...I mean, that was only, like, six or so hours ago. And I
can't deny that the sight of Jay being fucked by the souvenir shop daddy
is incredible. Then, I remember later this morning, and does he know
about the bookstore? I wonder.

"Is...that...all?" I ask, changing my question in my head three times
before finishing it out loud.

"Well, I guess I just didn't realize how hard up you were..."

"Woah, there! I'm not, like, hard up...I just...I mean, I'm, like,
on...well, the thing is..."

Jay cuts me off with a throaty whisper, "...that you're an insatiable
fucking slut with an itchy hole you need filled all the time?" He
squints at me hard with a snarling grin. I can't tell if he's angry or
sinister or both. It's very exciting, and I feel tingles all over my
body. My cock is so rock hard, it's almost a fossil.

I almost choke to death. "The fuck?"

"Well, Greyson," Jay says, looking directly into my eyes, "I'm just
calling it like it is. As I see it at least. Just directly addressing
your wild sexual...whoreishness. Calling you out for what you are...See?
Not such a child, am I?" And with that, he gives me the shittiest grin.
Like he feels like he's caught me or something. It's not as sexy as it
had been before now.

Oh. This is what this is all about. Fuck. Little shit. "Okay...okay...you
win." I give in. My voice is soft and almost monotone. "But let's both
just be a little more careful with how much we talk about my--"

Jay cuts me off, "your needy fucking hole?"

Goddamn it. "Yes. That." I mutter. The weed is kicking in, and so my
brain is thick and slow. All the folds are smoothed out. And fuck, I'm
so horny from all the edging and denial I've experienced today.

"Well, I think you're starting to realize that with us, right now...and,
fuck, going forward, you're not in charge. Got it?" And with his final
question, he pats my cheek in a sleazy way. Like I'm some cheap whore
that he's just finished dumping in, and he's lying to me about seeing
me again soon. He gets up and heads into his room. He tuts a bit as he
saunters away, and he is definitely flexing his muscles with each step.
And, God, is it working for him. Seeing his firm bubble butt has always
been something I enjoyed...even back in school when I'd sneak a glance
every time I could, but now that I know what his perfect pucker looks
like, now that I have the taste memory of his boyhood in my mouth, every
fucking step he takes is a stimulation. And just like that, he's
gone...having slinked his way into his bedroom.

I sit back into the couch, staring into the middle space for who knows
how long because he's completely got me fucking worked over, and I'm
super high right now. But something ultimately doesn't feel quite right.
I'm not really into the dom/sub scene, and he is not, in fact, in charge
of me. The more time in between him leaving and my reflection on the
whole scene that just played out, the more my head incrementally starts
to clear. This is not what I want. I really need to address this with
him, but being this stoned, I'm more or less cemented in place. I'll
have to figure it out later.

After some time, I open the app. I read the message from the barista that
"something came up," so now I have the whole evening free, I guess. I
want to be pissed that he canceled, but I tell myself that it's nice he
at least wrote me a message...so many assholes just ghost you on this
thing, and you're left to just wonder what happened. Scrolling through
all the hot guys on the app, I let myself forget the barista. There are
some sexy beefcake bears, one guy has his picture from what must have
been a leather bear night or something because all he wears is a leather
harness that comes all the way down to a connected jockstrap. His nipples
are pierced, and he's sucking on a thick fucking cigar. Then I focus on
a faceless toros of some guy who must be a competitive swimmer because
he's ultra fit and in a speedo. God, I'm so fucking horny for men. All
types. Got a cock? I'm into you. I remember the few times I tried to
make it work with women, and I just never felt the little burning tingle
in the base of my stomach that I feel when I see a guy that turns me on.
A few profiles later, I notice I'm less than a mile away from someone
named DomBlackKing. When I click on his profile, I notice it's Brian
from the bookstore. And his photos don't really capture how fucking
insane his dong is in real life. I lean back, close my eyes, and start
rubbing my aching cock through my pants, remembering how hot this morning
was with Brian and the chubby cub in the bathroom stall. My eyes spring
open when I hear the message notification.

Brian. He writes that he wants to hook up with me again, this time doing
more, and I am totally good for that. I ask what more he'd like to do,
and he responds, "Well, for one, my load ain't goin on your face...and
we gon take our fuckin time with each other." So I reply, "Whatever you
want!" and over a few more intense and sexual messages, we make a date.
His schedule requires us to wait a few days, but I feel like that's
better, so I can build up the anticipation. He tells me he wants me to
show up "already stretchin that hole," so now I have to find a way to
get a butt plug, I suppose.

I am about to click out of the app, but then a message from TWINK4TOP
comes through. "Hey daddy, I wish you fucked me in the stall instead of
leaving," he writes. I click on the profile picture, and when I look at
his other photos, it turns out to be the twinky kid from the bookstore.
He has three different photos of his tight boy hole, and it looks
delicious. I've always more or less thought of myself as a bottom, but
there's something about teen pucker that gets me so worked up. I return
that my daddy dick is his whenever he wants it. He says he's looking for
right now, and I tell him that works for me. I give him the address, and
he says he'll be here in a few minutes. My cock is so hard and I feel
little dribbles of precum sticky on my thighs.

I click my phone, and notice Jay left his bowl on the coffee table, so I
take a few hits to stay nice and glazed over. Plus, weed always makes me
so fucking horny.

I'm so blazed that I stand in place for a few moments, and then I
realize I'm about to fuck someone. I run into the bathroom and take a
quick shower, just to make sure I'm freshened up a bit. I don't use
soap though because I like to keep the musk. I smell like sea air, sweat,
and cum.

Before I do anything else, I  make my bed and tidy up as best I can, my
naked boner bouncing along as I move around the room in the nude. I
change into my lounging clothes, and I hear a tiny knock at the front
door, and I fumble a bit while I try to make the corner around the bed.
Damn weed. Makes me klutzy as shit. I right myself, and take a breath,
getting my head in the game a bit more, and I exit into the living room.

A rough gulp forms in my throat as I see Jay, shirtless still, but now
wearing a backwards baseball cap, leaning on the front door he just
opened, and I see TWINK4TOP looking confused. Then I clear my throat, and
his eyes show recognition when he sees me.

"Oh. Oh? Wait, what is this?" TWINK4TOP says, gesturing back and forth
between me and Jay. I want to get him to ignore the whole situation, but
my brain doesn't allow me to find the most helpful words right away.

"It's whatever you fuckin want it to be, bro." Jay says in a voice
style that he's augmented so he sounds like a douchey college bro. Fuck,
he's so hot.

I do my best to cut Jay off, taking big strides closer to my hookup,
while I say, "This is not what it might look like. I'm renting this
place, and he...sort of..."

"Comes with the place," Jay says with a smile that tells us that he
meant two different meanings of the word "comes." I trail off because,
again, my slow, thick, foggy brain keeps me from thinking fast enough.
And now I'm picturing Jay's cum shooting out of his perfect cock head.

"Look...I, uh, think I got the...wrong idea...I'm gonna bounce. Have a
good one." TWINK4TOP says with a frown, and then he about faces and
starts walking away.

I lurch forward, out the door, and I call out "No! Dude! Wait...he's
just..." but I don't want to make too much of a scene, and he never even
stops walking away, so that's that, I suppose.

From deep within me, I feel this intensity that I don't usually feel...or
acknowledge...or let happen, and I turn around and stomp back through the
door, and give it a bit of a slam. Jay's back on the couch, and he's
scrolling through his phone, very pointedly not looking up when I enter.

"What in the holy fuck was that?" I bellow. "Total fucking party fowl,
Jay!"

Now Jay looks up at me, and his face is stern. "That, the fuck, was me
asserting my dominance, Greyson. You're fucking mine, now, and you're
going to start to show me more fucking respect."

I don't know what to say. Or what to do. I'm so fucking horny and
stoned, and even if I found someone else to invite over, Jay would just
pull the same stunt. I could go out, I think to myself. He doesn't
control me.

"Let's get one thing fucking clear. You don't control me, Jay. You're
being a little shit right now," I say with my hands on my hips. "So
I'll be the ADULT here and just go out. Maybe when this tantrum or
whatever it is, is over, we can discuss things with maturity."

And I can tell this cuts him because his expression loses some
confidence.

I turn around, and go to open the door, and then I realize I'm too high
to drive anywhere, and I really don't want to leave after all, but just
knowing that I could if I wanted to, drove the message home enough for
me.

"I thought you were leaving," Jay says, his voice maybe betraying a
little more sorrow than he intended.

"Well, now I don't want to..." I say, sounding like a complete idiot.

"Well, what the fuck DO you want? Because I keep trying to, like, figure
you out, and nothings working. Greyson."

"Okay, first of all, cut the shit with the "Greyson" crap. I get it.
You're pissed off that I think of you as a kid. You're not really
proving me wrong, though, are you, smartass?"

"I just was trying to--"

And now I feel the shift in power. I see it on Jay's face, and I'm
still fucking pissed about my hook up leaving. "Trying to what, Jay? Was
that little stunt for me? And then the asserting dominance bullshit...did
you think I wanted you to be my--what--my fucking bull dom top or
whatever fucked up porn thing you thought this was? This is real fucking
life, Jay. And while we have had some...very...exciting times together,
maybe this isn't going to actually work. There was a little excitement
this afternoon when we played with you denying me sucking your cock, but
this is too far. You're not my master; you're not my boyfriend; and
you're dangerously close to not even being someone who turns me on."
This last comment, for the record, is not even close to the truth, but
I've found my stern teacher voice again, and everything is just sort of
falling into place.

Jay looks at me earnestly. I can see he's processing everything I just
said, and honestly, it's nice to see that he listened. His eyes are
brighter, more open, and they show concern.

"Okay. Okay okay," he says after releasing a long sigh. I recognize it
as the sigh of acquiescing. "No more cockblocking you. But you should
know that I was...I was... so fucking jealous--"

"Jealous?" I can't believe it. I feel my face relax a little, and I
drop my hands from my hips. How could Jay be jealous? He's so fucking
hot; he could have anyone he wants.

"Yeah. I mean...if you get fucked by old dudes, that doesn't bother me,
I guess, but this was someone more like...like me. And, I'm right fucking
here, so why..." he trails off. I walk over and sit next to him. I
hadn't considered this. And right now, more than any other time this
whole trip, Jay looks and feels like a kid. Just a sad little kid that he
feels left out. A reminder that, as the adult in this--whatever this
is--I need to be a little more responsible.

I rub his thigh thoughtfully, and then I move my arm up to wrap around
his shoulders. "Jay, look...I'm sorry that I...invited him over. I
honestly wasn't even thinking that you...well, that we..."

"Well, what, like, are we?" Jay asks. He's not actively crying, but
his voice gurgles a little like he's trying very hard not to cry.

"Oh no no no no," I mutter. "Nope. WE aren't, like, I mean...Jay, you
have to know that I'm not really looking for...that I don't really want
to...label anything right now. And we could never really be..."

Jay looks away. I feel like shit, but I'm being honest, and my gut says
honesty is the best tactic right now.

Jay turns back around, and he says, "But...we've like fucked...and you
gave me a poolside blowjob...and we, like, live here...together. Isn't
that..."

"Jay," I say low and sweet, "I'm so sorry if I made things confusing
for you. Honestly? You've made things confusing for me. In a really good
way, I suppose. But fucking and blowjobs--your words, not mine--don't
make a relationship. And we're not living here together, it's just
weirdly coincidental that we're sharing this cottage...but that wasn't
either of our plans, was it?"

"No," Jay says softly.

"And if our...activities...are making the lines too blurry, then it's
my--our--responsibility to each other to probably stop. I mean, you're
fucking seventeen, Jay. And fucking unbelievably hot. And you've got
such a perfect...well, you're hot. You should be out there giving it and
getting it all over the hell." I add a little chuckle to add some levity
to this heavy-ass discussion.

"But...and I don't want to sound dumb, but I really like you. I always
have. When you would read out loud to us or talk about poetry, I would
always get boned up."

"Oh, please don't say that...that's...I mean..." something clicks in my
brain, and I smile, "Is that...is that why you always asked to go to the
bathroom? Were you taking care of your hard on...because of me?"

Jay's cheeks flush. "Well...yeah...dummy." He says with a chuckle.

"That's very flattering, Jay. I mean...it's a fucking felony what
we're doing about it now, but that's really kind of...hot." I pause in
thought, and Jay decides to take this little moment to grab my face and
kiss me hard. We settle into an intense tongue flicking kiss, and we both
groan deep and low. For the record, he pulls away first.

"See? You fucking want me, too, I can tell!" And with this, Jay grabs
my cock through my pants. His hand feels warm and heavy, and it sends
waves of pleasure throughout my body. For a split second I let myself
lean back and close my eyes in sheer ecstasy.

I quickly stand up, forcing him to release my crotch. "But I can't give
you what you're looking for, Jay. And even if I was interested in
starting a relationship with a boyfriend right now, you're hardly
appropriate for something that long term and...public."

Jay makes a face, and I interrupt him, "And I'm not calling you a
child, Jay...I just mean, objectively...it's inappropriate, and even if we
both really wanted it, I couldn't...I mean, there's no way I
wouldn't..."

Jay's face falls. "You're not wrong. I guess."

"Thank you. I think we need to just keep what we've done in the
past...in the past. Some great memories for later. Some really, really
fucking hot memories for later...but maybe we--"

"No! Don't say any more! I'm good now, Grey. I promise. Now I get it,
and I don't need you to be, like, my boyfriend. I won't be jealous.
Promise. I just don't want the last few weeks to pass by and not do
anything with each other. Please don't...don't...just please let's keep
doing...things...together."

"Jay...you're--you're backsliding here...we really can't--"

"No! I swear! You can parade all the fucking guys you want around here,
and I won't make even one tiny eye roll. I just can't handle it if you
completely shut me off. Please?" He looks at me with the eyes of a,
well, the eyes of a teenager who's begging for sex. I pause in thought
because I really don't know how to handle all of this. "Please, Grey!
Please!"

"Jay, I promise I wouldn't like, ignore you. We can still hang out
as--"

"I mean sexually, Greyson. If you're telling me we could never be
together--for real, I mean--then, you gotta give me some more...what did
you call it? Memories. Give me more hot memories of us. Please?"

I sit back down on the couch, and Jay and I touch foreheads. I sigh
deeply. It is a total fucking trip having someone beg you to fuck
them...it really does wonders for self-esteem.I look Jay squarely in the
eyes, and I say, "Okay. Only if you PROMISE not to--"

Suddenly, Jay's tongue is in my mouth, and he's massaging my crotch,
and it all feels so fucking good. He pulls back, and he looks deeply into
my eyes. "I promise. No fuck ups."

We kiss deeply one more time, and again he pulls away first. I'm still
breathing heavy, and my erection is aching. I can feel little streams of
precum soaking my clothes. I shudder.

"I'll give you some space now. You said you were writing a book,
right?" Jay says, standing up, his engorged erection tenting his shorts
right at my eye level. The way he takes this exact moment to stretch wide
tells me he's trying to bait me with his rigid boyhood. As is typical at
this point, my mouth fills up with saliva.

"Yes," I gulp. "Yeah..." I say, completely hypnotized by his cock as
it bobs up and down a bit inside his shorts.

"You, uh, sure?" Jay says, and now he grabs his erection through his
shorts, and the outline becomes defined, showing off the flared head, and
the shaft. He takes a step closer to me, and I can almost taste his
delicious penis. I can smell it for sure. My head is buzzing and
throbbing from being stoned, and it's hard to keep my eyes open, but I
dare not close my eyes. I have to keep seeing his cock. It's so perfect.
I want to tear his shorts off and start raping my throat with his dick,
but I feel like it's too soon. I should work on my book, right? Set a
tone of self-control. That sounds like the right thing to do, right?

With a soft chuckle, Jay makes the decision for both of us. He
surprisingly turns away, and heads back to his room. I watch every step
he takes as he exits, and I instantly curse my indecision which lead to
this sexual denial. And again, I'm just sitting on the couch, boned up
with no release, and not really sure what to say or do.