Date: Wed, 4 Dec 2013 01:47:33 -0500 From: John Marshall Subject: Erotic Isle: the Endless Orgasm Chapter 25 In trying to avoid the most common plot scenarios featured on Nifty, this story continues the saga which began with "The Working Boys,"continued with "Ecstasy Island," followed by "Ecstasy Renewed," "EcstasyInc," and "The Pharm Boys." "Erotic Isle: the Endless Orgasm" like the previous segment, is unorthodox but quite seductive, as are the figures depicted. Like "The Working boys," "Ecstasy Island," and "Ecstasy Renewed" (all found under Bisexual Adult/Youth), as well as "EcstasyInc," and "The Pharm Boys" (found under Gay Adult/Youth), this one is also written in third person and proceeds in something close to real time with extensive dialogue to carry the story along and intense character development. Some of the characters from the earlier stories have returned to become major characters, but there are also quite a number of new characters which will occupy the main spotlight in this segment. Once more, this story is extremely orgasmic with all ejaculating dialogue written in UPPER CASE. If you do not wish to be exposed to such material as described, leave now. If you are too young for this sort of thing, leave now. If reading this causes you to break the law where you live, leave now. Otherwise, take the time now to get naked and get your cock hard, start strokin' it. Jack yourself off as you read and see if you can time your own blasts of naked sexual pleasure with those of the people in the book. This one averages about one or two orgasms per chapter. For that reason, I don't recommend reading more than one chapter at a time. Any more than that might be hazardous to your sexual health...especially your hard, throbbing cock. Note: The inclusion of any actual individuals in this story is in no way meant to suggest actual occurrences or their sexual orientation. All drugs mentioned are fictitious. If you like what you read, let me know at crackerjacker18@hotmail.com. EROTIC ISLE: THE ENDLESS ORGASM CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE "Well, boys, what do you think?" Donatello Raphaello stood naked with his sons in the shade of a group of palm trees as they looked out over the glistening white sands and sparkling azure waters of the shallow inlet pleading with them to enjoy. "Alright, I guess, if you like sand, sun, and saltwater," Marco shrugged. "You're quite the romantic," Donatello forced a wry smile. "Looks like sunblock city," Mikolos smiled up at his father. "You gonna BUY it?" Nicholas asked, his voice saying what his words did not. He sounded excited. "Nice beach for fuckin'" "If you don't mind sand up your ass," Mikolos grimaced. He'd gotten a good deal more of that the night before at their movable orgy than he would have liked. "I'm considering it," Donatello told his son. "I wanted to see what you boys thought." "How much?" Marco asked in as few words as possible. "One point two million," Donatello told him gently. Marco let out a loud, inhaled whistle. "For an acre of sand?" Mikolos' eyes widened as he looked up at his dad in shock. "No, almost TWO acres, actually--two-hundred feet of beachfront, almost that much road frontage, all utilities underground, 24-7 security, off-shore patrols... And you see that neck of sand out there?" Donatello went on. "Is that included too?" Nicholas asked. "No, but it might as well be," Donatello explained. "That breaks the waves in case there's a major storm." "Why doesn't that impress me," Marco eyed his father critically. "I know, it doesn't look like much, but it's actually almost six feet above sea level at high tide," Donatello assured him. "Some people, even build their homes out there on the protective islands." "They do?" Marco reacted in surprise. "Derek mentioned that Justin Bieber has a house out on one of those islands," Donatello told him. "It's relatively safe so long as the living space is on an upper level, ten or twelve feet off the ground." "I'd like to meet him sometime," Mikolos sighed dreamily. "I jack off to pictures of him all the time." "He's got this collection of naked fakes off the Internet," Nicholas gave away his older brother's "secret." Donatello smiled induligently. "You'll have to show me sometime, maybe we can do some jackin' off together." "I was gonna show you last night but you were too...DRUNK." Mikolos told his dad in disgust. "Whoa, don't hold back, there Mik, tell us how you REALLY feel," Marco joked as he ventured out into the sunny sand, only to come scampering back. "Damn...burn your fuckin' feet just going for a stroll." "That's what they make flipflops for," Mikolos laughed at his brother's plight. "The roadway back there is about eight to ten feet about sea level," Donatello continued. "Doesn't look like it, the slope is so gentle." "You gonna build a GREAT BIG house...like Derek and Doug got...lots of glass and elevators and swimming pools and spas and...and..." Nicholas asked excitedly. "Only if he has anything left after he pays for all this...sand," Marco laughed, rolling his eyes. "I was thinking a little hut, grass roof...over there somewhere, maybe a front porch...rocking chair...naked boys serving me marguritas in the afternoon breeze," Donatello teased his youngest. "You guys can sleep in hammocks tied up there between the palms." "That's really why you want this place, isn't it, dad?" Marco said growing serious. "What?" "Naked boys," Marco replied. Donatello shrugged. "We could probably find you a naked girl somewhere," Mikolos suggested. "Don't bother...I'm going back to mom," Marco declared suddenly. Donatello lifted one eyebrow. "Not gay enough for this place, huh?" "NO SHIT!" Marco retorted quite forcefully. "Marco..." Donatello reacted, his voice almost pleading. "Don't fuckin' 'Marco' me, Dad, you know how hard it is watching my little brothers gettin' fucked up the ass again and again and again like last night?!" "Whoa, tell us how you REALLY feel," Mikolos turned Marco's earlier words back on him. "SHUT UP!" Marco retorted. "You know how hard it is seeing YOU so high on Duralon...don't deny it, fucker..." Marco verbally attacked his middle brother, "...fuckin' your BALLS off, yellin' FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME FUCK MEFUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKME at the top of your voice, then screamin' I'M CUMMIN', I'M CUMMIN', I'M CUMMIN' I'M CUMMIN' like some banshee MORON every five minutes all night long?" "Must be pretty hard, look at his COCK," Nicholas noted as Marco's seven-inch appendage jutted straight up. "I could help you out with that if you'd like," Nicholas smiled mischievously. "QUEERBAIT!" Marco verbally assaulted his younger bother this time. "You must have gotten quite a bellyful of cum, last night, you weren't five minutes without a cock in your mouth all night long." "There was this ten minutes when I was getting fucked," Nicholas argued. "Yes, and I'll be your ass is so damned fuckin' SORE this morning you can't even take a SHIT!" Marco cried in disgust, glaring at his little brother. "MARCO, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Donatello suddenly cried in disgust, fists clenched, barely restraining his Italian temper lest he pound his son into the sand. "And YOU...YOU...so fuckin' DRUNK they had to carry your home!" Marco continued unstrained, his anger growing, sharing with his father a hot Italian temper of his own. "I had to carry you up the elevator, clean you up...put you to bed and...all the time...you were..." he paused uncertain whether to go on. "You were tryin' to FUCK him," Mikolos took the words from Marco's mouth, having helped his brother the night before. "Fortunately, even hopped up on Duralon, you were...incapable," Marco added somewhat sadly. There was a long, empty, moment of silence between them which seemed to last several minutes, but in reality only a few second. "You'll be on the next chopper outta here," Donatello told his oldest son quietly. "I'll have Lonnie meet you at the heliport, take you to Miami International..." "Don't fuckin' BOTHER," Marco snapped. "I'll take a cab." "The water taxi's here don't go that far," Nicholas took a dig at his irate brother as well. "FUCK OFF...DIPSHIT," Marco snapped. Donatello doubled his fist and suddenly took a swing at his son, but missed as Marco instinctively ducked away, then stormed off toward the road. "I think you just lost custody," Mikolos eyed his father as they watched Marco start the mile-long trek back to the Bristol fishbowl. "He'll get over it when he feels how hot that asphalt is on bare feet," Donatello smirked. ------------------------------- "They say you're leaving?" Bunny Bristol said as she quietly joined Marco, peering out over the glass railing on the topmost deck of their villa. "You couldn't come and tell me yourself? I had to hear it from your horny little brother?" "I wanted to avoid a scene like this," Marco replied, daring not to look her in the face lest he start crying unmanfully. "You were just gonna crawl out of my bed, leave a couple bucks on the dresser, then slink off back home to Mommy?" Bunny suggested rather harshly. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" Marco finally dared look at her, forcing a smile to fortify his emotions. "Why should I?" Bunny asked. "I love you." Marco blinked, trying his best not to seem surprised, but failing miserably. "As the old song says, 'What's LOVE got to do with it'?" "God, you're such a bastard," Bunny told him evenly, much better at masking her emotions than was Marco. "Comes naturally, I get it from my QUEER father," Marco told her hatefully. "Around here, that's not an epithet," Bunny remarked. "Whatever that means," Marco sneeered, turning back toward the view, watching the waves break on the beach below. "I'd explain but you're such a homophobe..." Bunny sighed. "THAT I know what means, and you're damned fuckin' straight I'm a homophobe," Marco snarled. "No, Marco, I'm NOT straight, I'm bi...or haven't you realized that yet?" Bunny told him without anger. "You like GIRLS too?" Marco gaped at her in disbelief. "Well, not all the time, of course, but...when they're available, yeah, I've been known massage a clit or two," Bunny lied, staring him straight in the face. Marco could only smile at her choice of words, then look away. "THAT doesn't bother you at all, does it?" Bunny observed. Marco shrugged wordlessly. The truth be told, it kind of excited him. At the moment, though, he wasn't in the mood to tell the truth. "Damn..." Bunny swore. "What?" "Dammit, I know how to DEAL with gay men...and bi guys but...I...fuck, a homophobe...on Erotic isle forgodsakes," Bunny said, looking about sadly, "I...I don't know what to say...I don't know how to talk to a boy...a boy I love, who happens to be as straight as YOU." "Quit saying that," Marco said softly, then leaned toward her, kissing her lips just as softly. "Saying what?" Bunny reacted, "as straight as you?" "No," Marco murmured. "I love you?" "Me loving you bothers you?" Bunny asked in surprise. "No, me lovin' YOU, bothers me," Marco admitted. "Why?" "Because you're a PART of this shit hole," Marco explained. "Pretty fancy place to take a shit," Bunny joked, looking about at her little brother's lavish crib. "Bunny, this isn't...me...Dad...my horny little brothers...I could NEVER..." Marco began, interrupted by Bunny's lips on his own. "I could go with you," Bunny impulsively suggested. Marco suddenly burst laughing. "Yeah, and give my dear loving mother a fuckin' heart attack before we even collected our bags at the airport." "What, you and her got a thing goin' or something?" Bunny laughed. Marco slapped her face...hard. Bunny smarted but held her ground. "That was out of line." "Sorry," Marco appologized. "No...what I said," Bunny told him. "Well...what you did was out of line too but..." "I got my dad's temper," Marco confessed sadly. "He fuckin' took a swing at me this afternoon." "You two hate each other that much?" Bunny asked in dismay. "I dislike him...what he is," Marco tried to explain. "He dislikes that I dislike him." "Sounds like a mutual detestation society," Bunny smiled. Marco looked at her blankly. He hated it when she made him feel stupid. "When you going?" Bunny asked sadly. "Eight a.m. chopper," Marco sighed tiredly. His feet still hurt from the trek back from the beach, even though he'd managed to walk mostly in the meager allowance of grass between here and there. He hated being naked ALL the time. Bunny suddenly turned and headed back toward the elevator. "Where ya going?" "I need a fuckin' DRINK!" Bunny yelled over her shoulder as she stormed off. Marco smiled. That was one thing he liked about Erotic Isle, no restrictions on teenaged drinking. "Make me one too," he told her as he hurried to catch up. "What? A Long Island tea?" Bunny teased. Again, Marco felt stupid, recalling the incident at the house just up the beach. "How about a martini?" It was the only drink he could think of at the moment. "A WHAT?" Bunny laughed. "A MARTINI? You want a MARTINI? You know what's IN a Martini?" "An olive?" Marco ventured from memory. "Gin and vermouth," Bunny informed him as he caught up to her. "I know what gin is, what's mooth?" "VERmouth...flavoring stuff to make the gin taste better...kind of sweet..." Bunny told him as they went inside and headed down to the bar in the living room, which she hoped was unattended. She caught a glimpse as she went down of the twins fucking and sucking Mikolos and Nicholas. "What's it taste like?" Marco questioned. "Shit," Bunny gave her honest opinion. Down below, in the living area she saw her father, Derek, and Donatello Raphaello hunched over a laptop computer as if they were on the verge of negotiating world peace. The bar was just off the foyer. Maybe they wouldn't notice. "What would you suggest then, Miss Off-the-Wagon?" Marco tried teasing to hide his own alcoholic innocense. "I'd suggest a Shirley Temple but you'd probably wallop me again," Bunny told him softly so as not to attract the attention of her father, who was well aware of her fondness for anything under the bar. "I'm almost afraid to ask...what or...who is Shirley Temple?" Marco decided to no longer hide his ignorance. Bunny looked at him and smiled. "She was a child movie star back in the 1930s and...as a drink, it's not far removed from Kool-Aid." "Got any beer?" Marco asked, feeling on safer ground. "Nope," Bunny shook her head. "Dad don't allow it. The twins like it too well, he banned it from the house." "And you?" "Let's just say THEY weren't drinking as much of it as he thought they were," She smiled mischievously. "Seems like YOU'RE the one with the drinking problem." "The only drinking problem is...the bar's practically dry...a little vodka, an ounce or two of bourbon...not even any ice...DAMN," Bunny swore, rummaging under the counter behind the bar. "Now, Don, this is our standard purchase agreement, all you have to do is sign right...BUNNY, GET AWAY FROM THE FUCKIN' BAR...here and here, I'll sign here," Doug Bristol directed both his client and his daughter in a single breath. "ME?!" Bunny cried in outrage. "I'm not the one cleaned out the place...someone's been drinkin' like a fuckin' FISH around here!" She found an unopened bottle of wine in the tiny fridge under the bar and secretly passed it below the counter to Marco, hoping the move might escape the corner of her father's watchful eye. "Guilty!" Donatello smiled, raising his hand as he accepted a pen from Doug and began signing the papers to start the legal and financial transactions necessary for him and his family to become legal residents of Erotic Isle. Bunny nodded toward the steps as Marco did his best to act natural in their casual retreat. "This will give you dual citizenship in the U.S. AND the Land of Ecstasy," they heard Derek explain. "What if they were saving this to celebrate after their big signing ceremony down there?" Marco worried as he and Bunny made it back to her room undetected. "Let'em drink Kool-Aid," Bunny giggled as she hunted for a means to open the bottle. "We'll know in a couple minutes if the volcano erupts down there." "And if it does?" Marco grinned as the two of them plopped down on her unmade bed. He deftly removed the foil around the top of the bottle. "Grab the bottle and run," Bunny laughed, handing Marco a nail file. "What the hell? What's this for?" "It's the best I could do...here, let me," Bunny took the bottle and began trying to impale the cork on the sharp end of the nail file. "Whatcha doin?" "Silly? I might ask you the same thing?" Bunny grinned up at the naked little boy in surprise as he eagerly watched them, knowing EXACTLY what they were doing. "We're gonna get fuckin' DRUNK!" Marco informed the boy. "You ever been drunk?" "I've been drunk, but not FUCKIN' drunk," Silly laughed. "Just a little bit drunk is all." "CHAMPAGNE!" Bunny caught a glimpse of the label on the bottle they had so hastily purloined. "Cool," Marco smiled. "I love champagne." "I HATE it," Bunny cried. "Makes my nose feel funny...all gassy." "I like champagne," Silly told them hopefully. "Fine," Marco told Bunny, "You go fix yourself a Shirley...I'm sure your father wouldn't mind that...and me and Silly here will..." "FUCK YOU!" Bunny suddenly exclaimed as the cork unexpectedly popped from the bottle, and the bubbly exploded all over the three of them. "Can I LICK you first?" Silly joked, starting with his own arm. "Mmmmm...good year, 1996," he observed. "That's before I was even BORN...must be good stuff," Marco likewise tasted the vintage from his arms. "And EXPENSIVE," Bunny worried. "Dad's gonna have a whole herd of cows." "Got any glasses?" Marco asked. "Glasses?" Bunny sneered in disgust at Marco's delight and her own despair. "Now why the fuck would I have GLASSES up here?" "To see better?" Silly joked as he took the bottle from Marco and gulped directly from it. "HEY!" Marco cried as he grabbed the bottle back. "Save some for ME!" He did likewise. "PIGS," Bunny sneered, then smiled and reached for the bottle. She took a sip. "Well?" Marco watched her expectantly. "Like carbonated PISS," Bunny returned her verdict. "I wouldn't know about that," Marco laughed, grabbing the bottle back and taking another healthy swig. "I think we need a second opinion," Silly reached for the bottle again, only to have Marco jerk it away. "Whoa, little guy, you'll make yourself...tipsy." Marco told the boy. "I had to put one drunk to bed last night, I'm not overly fond of..." "You're gonna drink all of that YOURSELF?" Silly objected vehemently. "My god, Marco, don't be selfish, let the kid have some," Bunny objected. "Or else it'll be US putting YOU to bed flat on your ass drunk." "Alright but...damn, kid, SIP the stuff, it ain't fuckin' BEER, forgodsakes," Marco reluctantly handed the bottle back to Silly. "Yeah, Silly, don't GUZZLE the shit like HE does," Bunny sneered. "BUNNY!" It was her dad comming up the stairs, sounding rather volcanic. "Quick, turn out that light...uhhh...errr...under the bed," Bunny cried in panic as she and the boys dived for the floor, careful not to spill their precious fruit of the vine as they crawled under the bed. "BUNNY, YOU LITTLE FUCKIN' BITCH!"