Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2022 08:14:04 +1300 From: Barney Bumpkin Subject: Barney's Weekend in Brighton 6 Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further. All characters and situations are fictional, though hopefully plausible, and grounded in reality. The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved. The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK. My thanks go to Nifty for all the pleasure the Archive has given me over the years and for the opportunity to bring my writing efforts to the attention of those who share my particular erotic interests. Readers are encouraged to make a donation to keep the archive going for many more years. As always, feedback both critical and complimentary is welcome via e-mail to: barneybumpkin@gmail.com. Please don't contact me with commercial requests or advertising. Hope you enjoy Barney Barney's Weekend in Brighton Summary Having had a great time in the famous British seaside resort's only leather bar in the summer, red- headed Londoner, Alan heads off to Brighton for a weekend break, despite it being out of season. After discovering on his walk from the station, that his favourite venue has closed in the intervening months, he settles into his tiny hotel room, goes out for a meal and spends his first night cruising the nearby gay pub and disco dressed in his biker gear. But when the only guy who catches his eye takes flight, he decides to cut his losses and have an early night, in the hope that Saturday might have something better to offer. However, a chance encounter on his walk back to his hotel along the rain-drenched promenade, results in him stumbling across just the sort of man and the sort of sex he was looking for. A happenstance that succeeds in transforming his weekend break into one that he will never forget! 6. Bound to Please Unquestioningly, I followed the chef to the rear of the foyer, up three flights of creaking wooden stairs and along a narrow corridor until we reached a doorway at its very end. This opened onto a bedroom that was almost bare of personal belongings with only sufficient space for a minimum of furniture. An old-fashioned single bed with a wrought iron frame was shoved against one wall, a small wardrobe was crammed into an alcove and a sink was squeezed in beneath the narrow turret-style window. A few clothes were heaped over an old armchair which was the only other piece of furniture, the bed was unmade, the sheets soiled. Located at the rear of the building, it was both gloomy and cold. Thomas immediately turned on the light and then an ancient two bar electric fire which seemed to be the only source of heat in the room. I could see why he had been so eager to go back to my hotel the night before rather than returning here! No sooner had he closed the door behind us than he was tugging at my clothes, breathing heavily. Grateful for having just been treated to one of the most erotic experiences of my life, as his excitement grew, I offered him no resistance and willingly stepped out of my shoes and held up my arms up in the air so he could strip me more rapidly. Given the coldness of the room, the chef showed no inclination to remove his own clothes at this juncture and seemed to relish the sight of me shivering naked before him while he remained fully dressed. With a widening smile on his face, he greedily ran his eyes over my pallid body as though he couldn't quite believe that he had managed to land such an obligingly co-operative prize. "Turn arrand an put yer ands on yer ed!" he demanded, seemingly excited by my eagerness to obey his commands and keen to put my obedience to the test. After also taking in the view from behind, he stepped forward to fondle my reddened ass and then, accompanied by more heavy breathing, wrapped his muscular arms around me and cupped my pecs in his palms as if they had been breasts, before giving them both a squeeze. As he moved on to playfully tweak the tips of my nipples, I felt his erect dick rub up against my spanked buttocks through his burgeoning pants. His next move was to slide his hands gently down the sides of my smooth-skinned torso until they came to rest on my hips, after which he reached across to claim my spent cock and balls as his own by grasping them firmly in his fist, then slowly increasing the pressure on them until I began to moan. Despite the pain, I kept my own hands pinned firmly to my head as a mark my submission. To my surprise, just moments later, I found myself rewarded for my obedience by him spinning me around to face him again and lowering his mouth to each of my defenceless nipples in turn, first to tease them with his tongue, then, once their saliva-coated tips had hardened in the cold air, to bite into them and make me squirm once more. As he did this, he ran his hands over my buttocks again, this time parting them so he could slide one of the fingers into my crack to seek out my hole. After which, he gradually eased its tip inside me until the whole digit was sunk as far as the knuckle, then waggled it around inside me to have me perform an ecstatic dance whilst held on the threshold between pleasure and pain. Impressed by the sophistication of his lovemaking, I made no protest when his next move was to lead me across to the bed and take my handcuffs out of his jacket pocket. He still wore the chain with the key to them attached to it around his neck, I noticed, to which he had added the key to my hotel room. Yet another indication that he intended to hold on to the power he held over me for the duration of my stay at the resort and possibly beyond. However, if he continued to help me realise my submissive sexual fantasies as successfully as he had to date, he would get no complaints from me, and quickly turn me into his more than willing slave! "Lie darn on yer back and grab old oft rails wi yer ands!" the chef demanded. No sooner had I complied with his wishes than he had closed one of the cuffs around my right wrist and laced the left one through the metal uprights to secure me to the bed. "Nar tha bilongs ta me!" he whispered in my ear in his sexy voice, as the second cuff snapped shut around my left wrist. Having rendered me helpless, he started to pull off his own clothes. But after noticing I was watching him, stopped to take another item out of his jacket pocket. "No peepin!" he chuckled as he slipped the flight mask, that I had included along with my bondage gear, over my head, so he could remove the remainder of his clothes unobserved. "Damn!" I cursed to myself, would I only be permitted to see the handsome chef naked as a treat from now on? But, in combination with the handcuffs, the blindfold helped increase my new master's self-confidence, slow down the pace of his love-making and make him less reluctant to show more his tender feelings toward me. Once freed from encumbrances, he lay down on the bed on top of me until I could feel his full body- weight bearing down on me, after which he grasped hold me by the back of my neck and inserted his tongue between my parted lips. As his excitement grew, he sucked it out of my mouth to encompass it, slid his rock-hard shaft between my thighs and slowly rubbed his body up against mine repeatedly. After a leisurely exchange of kisses, he eased his meaty cock into the gap beneath my balls, compressing my own scrotum and shrunken dick beneath him with every upward thrust. Eventually, there was a pause during which I heard him tear open two of the packs of condoms and lube so generously provided in the sauna by my hotel. After sheaving his dick and greasing it up, he grabbed hold of me by the ankles and did the same to my hole, then draped my legs over his broad shoulders and entered me. Once we were face to face, he tore off the blindfold so he could enjoy the sight of my flushed face and look me in the eyes as he thrust inside me and resumed kissing me once again. Savouring the completeness of his conquest of me, this time he increased the pace of my fucking more slowly than before, but such was his excitement, that within a couple of minutes, he had cum once again. After peeling off the spunk-filled rubber and rinsing himself down in the sink, he returned to the bed and lay down beside me only to immediately drift off to sleep. Exhausted, despite the discomfort of having my hands pinned above my head by the cuffs, I quickly followed his example. The chef woke an hour or so later and, after checking the time, opened up his wardrobe and began hurriedly changing into his work wear. "Aren't you going to let me go now?" I enquired, when it became clear he was about to depart. "No way!" he answered shaking his head, "Am goin t'hang ont'thee for a tadge longer... Yer said yer not due ome til Munday anyow. Beside, yer sed yer were inta bondage!" "But..." I protested. "Al be back when a knock off - at abart eleven. Mek yourself comfy! Pee in't sink if you need to go - eye allass do!" "Tom, you can't just leave me tied up like this!" I pleaded, "What if there's a fire?" In response, he fished out the chain from beneath his clothing and gave the key to the handcuffs a kiss. "Yer bilong ta me nar!" he chuckled and gave me a wink before turning off the light and taking his leave. Although exhaustion and all the booze I'd consumed soon sent me to back sleep, it also woke me up a couple of hours later dying for a piss. Sadly, I discovered that my bonds would not allow me to piss into the sink as the chef had advocated, so I started to panic. There was no way I was going to be able to hold my full bladder for another three or more hours! I told myself to calm down - I would have to be inventive! I spotted a discarded beer can on the floor and just managed to stretch far enough to be able to trap it between my feet and lift it onto the bed. Tragically, it was not quite empty and so I inadvertently soaked Thomas's sheets with stale beer. But then I was left with the problem of how to get the end of my now hard dick into its narrow opening. Deciding this was an insurmountable problem I looked around for alternative vessels. There was a plastic beaker with a toothbrush in it on the sink, I managed to kick it over but it landed in the sink out of reach. There was a plastic shopping bag lying on the floor but I could see it had holes punched in it. When I failed to spot any other container, I decided that my only alternative to pissing the bed was to use the beer can in conjunction with the chef's towel to soak up any spillages. I hooked it on my foot and shuffled it into position beneath my groin and aligned my dick with the ring-pull opening of the can as best I could. My piss flooded out so strongly barely a fraction of it went into the can so that the towel was soon soaked with urine. Desperate to avoid soaking the sheets as well, the moment I finished I sidled across the bed and let the heavy towel and half-full can fall to the floor in a heap. I lay back on the bed relieved, and slid myself between Thomas's sheets so I could inhale his manly odour while I dreamt about what might have happened out on the promenade when we first met, what had happened down in the bar earlier that day and what my unpredictable master might have in store for me on his return. Unable to wank myself off or tweak my tits to help me relieve my sexual excitement, I could only turn onto my belly and rub my hard cock up repeatedly against the mattress until I came. To be continued... Can't wait to sample more of my writing??? A free PDF version of the whole story is available by email from the authour at barneybumpkin@gmail.com You can also check out my latest novel "Confessions of a Wanna-be Gay Sex Slave" listed on Amazon Kindle books (links listed on the Announcements page of Nifty or simply search for Barney Bumpkin on Amazon Kindle). Or read my other writing posted on Nifty for free. Look under "B" in the Authors tab or do a search for my name. 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