The Valley Cottage

By: Rick Masters
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 4
The First Evening

"Let's go outside," I suggested, "I need to go for a piss anyway." I picked up the torch and headed out the door. I made my way around to the privy and did my business. When I returned to the front of the cottage, Tom and Martin were standing outside near the entrance to the door and were silhouetted by the light coming out the door and window. With their legs apart, their pricks hanging down looked like two arrows suggesting the way the evening should progress. Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking affecting my interpretation of the sight before me.

"What do you think we should do now?" I asked.

"Let's play murder in the dark." Tom said.

"How do you play that?" Martin asked.

"We all go off and hide, except the one who is on. He then has to try and find us and murder us, before we kill or arrest him." Tom explained.

"You murder someone by holding them down for a count of three." I clarified. "The murdered person then has to return to base, and wait for all the others to be murdered, or for the killer to be killed or arrested."

We agreed t try it, but found that with only three of us the game did not work out very well and so was a bit boring. Added to this it was getting a bit chilly outside and so we decided to go in the cottage to do something else.

We went in and stoked the fire up a bit in order to warm up. We sat down on our beds as we had no chairs, and the beds were preferable to the bare floor. For a while we just talked about anything that came into our heads. Then Martin said, "I've got a little surprise I've been saving." He went over to his pack and after rummaging around in it he brought out a small bottle with some amber coloured liquid in it. "I `borrowed' some of dad's brandy." He proudly announced and asked Tom to get three cokes out of the ice box.

My parents don't drink, and so I had never had any alcohol and Tom said that he had only had about half a beer before. Martin admitted that he was not allowed to drink at home, yet, either and had only had a bit of wine or a sherry on special occasions. We opened our cokes and had a couple of mouthfuls to make room for the brandy. Martin then put about a third of the brandy into each of our bottles of coke. This meant that we each got about two and half tots in our 500ml bottles of coke. Quite a strong introduction to the world of alcohol -- but ignorance is bliss. Fortunately we did have the presence of mind to put the lids back on the bottles and turn them a few times to mix the brandy in with the drink. Even so, the first swigs had us spluttering a little as the brandy burned down the backs of our throats.

We sat, lay, reclined and generally made ourselves comfortable on our joined together bed for three, and talked about anything and just about everything under the sun while we drunk our rather strong drinks. Although we did not get plastered by the drinks, we were slightly tipsy and this helped to break down further our inhibitions which had been crumbling during the day, as we got more used to being naked in front of each other.

During our conversation, I noticed that we had stopped using as much bad language as we had been during the day and commented on it to the others.

"Well, it doesn't make a fucking shit of a bloody difference, does it? We know that we can all swear, but because we only do it when we are alone, it doesn't come fucking naturally." Martin expounded. For some reason we found this to be extremely funny and rolled around in fits of laughter for a while.

Tom said, "Actually I don't really feel right using all the words like that anyway, and only use them to be like everyone else."

"O.K. guys," I said, "let's make a pact. We don't use any of the strong bad words for the rest of the weekend. If we do then we have to pay a forfeit decided by the other two. What do you say?" Both Tom and Martin agreed, but we then went onto agree on which words we could use and which words we couldn't.

Our conversation trailed off into a period of silence.  Though we were tired, we were not yet ready to go to sleep. Suddenly Tom broke the silence with an eager, "Let's turn off the lights, and using only the torch take turns to tell ghost or horror stories."

"Yeah," I agreed because I knew I had one which neither of them could have heard before.

"O.K.," Martin also agreed, but he did not seem to be as interested as either Tom or me.

We moved the two gas lamps to a place of safety on the table, and placed a box of matches beside them before turning the gas off. We had not kept the fire stoked and so it had practically died down to a pile of warmly glowing embers with the odd flicker or two of flame. It was not giving off much light and as we sat on the mattresses, we were in nearly total darkness.

Tom was to start, seeing as it was his idea, and he had us sit cross-legged in a triangle facing inwards with our knees touching the knee of the one next to us. Tom then turned the torch on and held it against his chest, just below his chin, pointing to the roof. This cast an eerie light on his face, re-sculpting it into something which did not look quite human. With the stage set, he began in a hushed voice to set the scene and then unfold his story; which was quite a lengthy one.  I was entranced and just sat there listening. Martin on the other hand appeared to be interested, and leaned forward. He stretched out his arm and began to stroke my thigh. I don't think I even realised at first, but when I did I just left it because I was actually enjoying it. When he realised I was not going to stop him, he got a little bolder and started to edge his hand toward my groin area with each stroke. Eventually, he was gently running his fingers through my pubes and lightly stroking one very hard cock. And I was loving it. Martin and I became so engrossed in our little activity, we lost sight of Tom's narrative and did not notice when he slowly turned the torch to spotlight what was happening between my legs. Having done so, he then gave a blood curdling scream as if it was a part of his story. Martin and I both jumped in fright. This Tom found highly amusing and broke out into fits of laughter.

Martin then did it. "You fucking ape," he called Tom, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Got you," Tom said, "You said the `f' word. That's not allowed. Now you have to pay a forfeit."

"Oh shit! Yes I did." Martin didn't even try to argue his way out of it.

Ghost stories were forgotten as we moved into a new sphere of life – what forfeit to demand. Tom and I went into a huddle and discussed all sorts of ideas, but couldn't agree. Eventually Tom said, "I got him, so I will give the forfeit."

"All right." I conceded, "Go ahead."

Tom stood up, and in the dull light from the dying fire, we could see that he also had a boner. "Martin, for your wrongful use of the `f' word, you shall massage my cock until I cum."

I couldn't believe it. I never thought this sort of thing would happen, and here I was hearing it with my own ears.

"It will be my pleasure," Martin said, "in fact, if you get positioned properly; I will do both of you at the same time."

We lay down either side of Martin and he gently took our cocks, one in each hand, and started to jack us off. After a couple of minutes, he stopped. "Ssh. Don't say anything, don't do anything, and don't move. I won't be long" Martin ordered as he got up. I looked up as he stood and in the dull glow from what was left of the fire, I could see that Martin's cock was very definitely hard and stuck out from his body like a flagpole on the side of a building. "Now close your eyes until I say you can open them again" he ordered again. In the spirit of things and because I didn't want him to stop fulfilling his forfeit I closed my eyes tight, but I could hear him rummaging around in his bag, and then sensed more than heard him walk back and get down between us again. There was another strange sound which I could not make out and then I became aware of something cool and wet feeling being put on my cock and the area around it. This was followed by a period of nothing; I guess he was doing the same to Tom during this time. Next I could feel Martin sliding his hand around over my stomach and around my cock, but it was so smooth and I realised that he must have had some oil of some sort which he was now using as a lubricant. Presently his hand found its way back to jacking my cock and this felt so much better with the oil. "If you want to, you can open your eyes now" He said. I was enjoying this slow and gentle wank so much that I didn't want to. I wanted to keep my senses focussed on one thing only; or so I thought.

Martin had been stroking our pricks for at least 10 minutes after putting the oil on when I became aware that I was feeling a cock with my hand. It wasn't mine either. I hadn't noticed my moving my hand or finding the cock, which must have been Martin's until I was actually jacking it off. It had just happened sort of naturally as if it was a common thing to do. Then it dawned on me. This was my first time to touch, skin to skin, another guy's cock. And I was not just touching it, I was pleasuring it; and I was enjoying it. As I became aware of this, I also realised that the feelings I was experiencing were suddenly heightened and more intense. This brought me closer to my orgasm, and as a natural reaction I began to speed up the rate that I was pumping Martin at. With some unwritten instinct Martin realised that this was a call for him to speed up on me as well. I had never had such intense feelings during a wank before and soon I was pumping away at Martin's cock like a steam engine with a full head of steam, and I think I was gripping it so tight I was almost strangling it. At the same time, I was lifting my bum off the bed and pushing my cock hard into Martin's hand as my explosion drew near. I think Tom must have been at about the same level as me, but I was completely oblivious to what he was doing.  There was no talking just very serious grunts and aah's and the like coming from all three of us.

Suddenly Martin shouted the single word, "Yes!" and spewed forth in orgasmic ecstasy. Because my hand was still flailing away at ten to the dozen, each spurt from his cock went in a different direction; some landing on me, some on the bedding and some on Tom. But I didn't care because as I realised he was shooting, I went over the edge and had the most intense orgasm I had ever had. With three days storage of spunk inside me, I also shot out with some force and received a trail of cum down my torso from my chin to my pubes. Then I had to forcefully stop Martin hammering my cock anymore as the feelings were just too great to bear. Only then did I become aware of Tom panting and groaning away and glanced over just in time to see his cock begin spitting out a load.

"That was totally awesome," I panted out, "man! I have never had anything like that before. It was just too much." I enthused.

"Same here," Tom said, "But how did you manage to get some of your cum to land on me?" he asked.

"I think it was mine, actually," Martin answered.

"But how did you come when your hands were doing the two of us?" Tom asked.

"Rick did me."

"Oh! ... Hey that's cool then, we've all been done."

"I need a piss," I said and got up and walked to the door before realising that the cum was running down my body and dripping onto the floor. "Shit, I need some loo roll to sort this mess out." I turned around and went over to the cupboard to get the roll and pull a few sheets off to clean up with, and then went out to the privy to relieve myself. Tom was waiting outside when I finished also sporting his little bundle of paper used in a clean up operation. When we got back inside, Martin had cleaned up the bedding and himself and thrown his paper into the embers.

"Time for bed for me," I said, "and I'm not wearing anything but my skin, because that is the way I usually sleep."

"I'm with you Rick," Tom said, and Martin also agreed that he would come to bed as well.

"Because this is Rick's birthday, I suggest he gets to sleep in the middle and so keep covered up." Martin recommended. Tom agreed, and I was not cared to disagree, so I lay down and Tom and Martin got in either side of me.

We lay close but not really touching. In the aftermath of what had gone on already we just lay quietly each going through our own thoughts. It seemed like just seconds when I could hear the slow regular breathing which indicated that Tom had already gone to sleep. But my mind was racing and going over the events. As this all passed through my consciousness I saw a pattern emerging.  It was Martin who had suggested free-balling. It was also Martin who had managed to touch me intimately when we were rough housing; Martin had suggested swimming nude; Martin had grabbed my cock when he saw I had a hard-on and again when we were swimming. Martin had pinched our clothes so that we had to walk back to the cottage naked. Martin had brought the alcohol, and the baby oil, and he had let me jack him off.

I rolled over onto my side to face Martin, and moved a little closer to him so that I could get my mouth close to his ear, "Martin," I whispered, "Are you still awake?"

"Uh huh," Martin confirmed, "What do you want."

"Please, don't be angry with this, but I need to know. Are you gay?" I asked nervously. This could destroy our friendship.

"What if I am?" he countered.

"I'm confused. I really liked what we did tonight. And I've thought about it a lot. Do you think that means I'm gay? I replied.

"I'm also not sure. But right now, I think I prefer boys to girls. And I was really glad when you just started to play with my cock."

I lay there thinking for a while and then, "Do you think we could it again another time? I asked.

"You better believe it. I hoped this would happen over this weekend, and I want some more too. Do you want it again now?"

"Yes and no. I do, but I think I'm too tired to do it." I replied. "Maybe tomorrow."

"O.K." Martin replied and turned his head to face me. We were so close our noses bumped.

Martin gave me a little peck kiss and said, "Sleep tight, then. And happy birthday."

"Thank you; goodnight." I answered back, savouring the thought of that kiss as I dropped off to sleep.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/25/13