The Summerhouse Ch. 13: Colin

Iain sighed. "Come in then."

"Oi," Scott called. "You can help us grab your shit from the car first!" When his ex hesitated, Scott pulled at his arm. "You've been in public wearing less than that! Hell, I've fucked you in public wearing less than that!" He waited for Iain to take two steps outside of his home and then added. "That's still a fuckable ass!"

Iain's bedroom in the four-bed townhouse was on the first floor, opposite the living room; it was small, but contained a double bed, desk and a full-size oak wardrobe. I didn't believe it was big enough to fit all of his possessions in it, and he laughed when Scott made that point.

He looked across at me. "Give us ten, will ya?"

I quietly pulled the door behind me and walked into the lounge opposite with my phone. "Are you Iain's ex?" A short, black-haired girl asked. I guessed she was about twenty, with black-rimmed glasses as a slight frame. "He said that you had a fight because you started screwing a girl from your work."

"I'm not his ex. I'm a friend of his ex." She held a large biochemistry textbook in one hand with a backpack in the other. "I know Iain, but I really know Scott."

"Is that from the summerhouse?" She looked directly at me as she stuffed the epic tome in the purple bag. "He told us some stuff, but it seemed... weird. It's not true, is it? He was just winding us up?"

"No, it's true. My fiancée is friends with the Coach. So him and his team come after most games to screw my girl and fuck a handful of men. And Iain was one of those guys." She recoiled at the bluntness of what I had broadcast and then broke into a confused expression.

"So are you gay or not?"

"Not. Bisexual. As is Scott. Iain is..."

"Oh, he said he is 100% gay slut last night but had been drinking way too much Prosecco. Pierre liked the sound of that. He's the guy on the bottom floor. Do you know him? He's very big on the Manchester gay scene." I shook my head and the young woman continued wittering. "Iain seems nice, though. My boyfriend and him went to the bar a couple of nights ago, and they got very drunk together. Came in with pizzas and tried to share. They were up until four in the morning chatting and watching telly! They got on really well." I raised my eyebrows, and she noticed. "I gotta go, help yourself to tea from the kitchen downstairs."

I thanked her and played on my phone. Even by Iain's admission, he never kept it in his pants, and he was fond of hitting on straight guys in the sauna. I seriously wondered if the horny gay bottom had already ensnared the girl's boyfriend. Or at least tried.

Clare didn't answer her text, as she was probably driving, and so I replied to Bobby. We had been texting each other almost daily since we had met, as I kept him abreast of all our shenanigans. I hoped it would reignite his lust and he would want to join us at the summerhouse on Saturday.

When I heard the familiar sound of bouncing bed springs. I got up and looked through the crack in the open doorway to see Iain lay face down, spread on the mattress, and Scott gently and lovingly working his prick into his ex.

It was typical Scott. He had visited to say goodbye to his former boyfriend, and within less than fifteen minutes had charmed the shorts off of the sauna attendant and had buried his manhood into him. I watched, transfixed.

Everything my friend did was affectionate. His body pressed against Iain's back. His mouth nibbled at his earlobes and nape of his neck and the rocking of his hips was loving and tender.

It was a romantic, warm screw. Scott held his left hand into the air, made a thumb's up sign and then gestured to the lounge. Above the bed was a small mirror and Scott had seen me voyeuristically spying on him. I quietly crept back to the living room and waited.

Half-an-hour it took for Scott and Iain to leave their bedroom to go to the bathroom. "Shall we hit Manchester for some lunch?" Scott asked me and then turned to face Iain. "Look after yourself, mate. Ring me if you ever need to. I'll be there for you, I promise." They embraced and before either of them could cry, we returned to the pink glittery car.

"I know what you are going to say," Scott said the moment I started the engine. "That I complicated things between us."

"You always complicate things! But your relationships are your business, not mine."

"I still really like him. He was never 'the one' I fell in love with, or someone I could spend my entire life with, but he was special to me. I don't want to lose his friendship. We spoke about that, I kissed him. He touched me and it was a slippery slope from that to being balls deep in his butt. These things happen. You know that. It's really easy to just happen without meaning to!"

"Only with you, Scott. You're unique."

He smiled at my feint praise. I drove and parked the car near Manchester Piccadilly and we walked into the city centre to eat lunch, before we visited a very expensive lingerie shop. I wanted to treat Clare, and Scott scanned the sale items for Virginia. He only had a rough idea of her size until I suggested logging into her camgirl profile to see if she had listed her "vital statistics" there.

"These porno sites are popular," he announced. "Ahh yes, it's says she's a 34D," he disclosed to the store, and then muttered to himself. "Is that right?"

"I don't know Scott, it might be. You're the one screwing her, you should know." He shrugged. "Banging porn stars is a minefield, isn't it?"

He nodded. "There are plenty of earth-shattering explosions, yes." He chuckled at his lewd joke. Taking Scott to the upmarket store was as amusing as it was embarrassing. He hollered about the extravagant prices, the luscious fabric and delicate designs. "Hey, Jon. Reckon this one would look good on her. It's fifty quid, but it's crotchless so she can still play with her keks on! And it's silk. Feel that. Quality, that is. Utter class, too. Imagine being able to fuck with your French knick-knacks on!" He laughed, and I saw the uniformed sales girl shudder at the vulgarity of my friend.

I bought Clare a lingerie set and nightie from their new range and paid for Scott's favourite set from the sale rail that was "utter class." I think the sales staff were glad when we left.

Scott bought a few bits from a cheaper clothing store, and we had Gelato at a wonderful Italian ice-cream place opposite the shopping centre.

With a couple of hours until I had to meet Victoria and Martin, we watched a film at the cinema. Scott selected the seats at the back of the auditorium and whispered to me as the trailers started. "I might want to borrow your mouth!"

"Again," I whispered. "That'll be three loads dropped today."

"I'm very horny at the moment. It's excitement. My 'ormones are on overdrive."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled.

He glared at me. "You better stop your bitchin' or I will tell Clare you need an attitude adjustment! She'll sort you out."

"Yeah, I think she would." He settled back in his seat when I added. "OK, I am sorry for offending the alpha male in this friendship, and I will, of course, love to fellate you if you desire."

He sniggered at my patronising tone and shook his head. "Your woman is going to fuck you up so bad!" He paused and then grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me from my seat.

The act of gently lowering Scott's shorts in his lap and bringing my mouth to the bulbous tip of his dick, at the rear of the cinema, was a charged, erotic encounter. Every moment was a tightrope of adrenaline, as my heart thundered expecting cinema security would catch us.

I expected for someone to see us and to call the police. My imagination believed that I would end up with a criminal record for sating Scott's arousal. I felt like we must have an audience, and a hundred people were scowling in disapproval.

I felt degraded and humiliated. I felt exposed, ashamed, disgraced and utterly horny. It had been days since I had released, and without Martin or Clare, I had no outlet. And sucking Scott in a cinema, in the middle of Manchester, during the trailers of an adult action film, only increased that.

Relieved and disappointed when he unloaded into my mouth, and I sat on my chair. No-one had seen us. We were not sharing a row with anyone and we were seated at the back of the cinema. Every other person was staring straight ahead at the big screen.

People came to watch the 18-rated gory action film, not to spy on what two men were doing on the last row of seats. I took a sip of my drink and washed Scott's cum from my mouth. He patted me on the thigh. "That was good. I needed that." He felt my erection and sniggered. "I reckon you could do with that too!"

"You gonna do it?"

"Fuck no," Scott replied. "I don't put dicks in my mouth, y'know that."

We arrived with an hour to spare at Manchester Airport and waited for our friends in the arrivals lounge. Scott moaned at the price of the drinks in the small cafe and then idly whispered if I could escort him to the toilet.

"There are cameras everywhere to look for furtive terrorists. You have no chance."

"But we got to wait," he wailed and paced the airport. It felt like he was a toddler that needed to be entertained, and I was a little glad that Martin and Victoria's plane landed twenty minutes early.

Our two slightly tanned hosts were delighted to see us. Victoria threw her arms around Scott and then me, and I carried her duty free and bags to the car.

"Handbag suits you," Scott joked as we reached my vehicle. I glared at him and held the door open for Victoria and the alpha male footballer.

"How was your holiday?"

"Great fun!" Victoria roared, and Martin blushed. "We had eight couples and there is so much local talent. We had the boys waiting and cooking and cleaning, while we had some serious screwing. Clare and you would have loved it. We had one guy who was just a freak of nature. I mean, if Linford had a lunchbox then this guy had a toolbox! And Lindsay is only 5ft, so he was rearranging her insides." She chuckled and patted Scott on the knee. "Hey, I hear you are moving in with a new girl. Excellent."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, Virginia. She's lovely."

"But when are you going to screw me and Clare? There's a threesome waiting for you." Scott shuddered and Victoria squeezed his thigh. "All this time and you never, ever come to us. Why, Scott? Aren't we sexy?"

"Yeah, but... Jon and Martin. Mates. I couldn't."

"Oh yes, you fucking can!" Victoria squealed. "I have screwed every one of Martin's friends. Except the subby cucks like Jon, but I've done them up the chuff, so that sort of counts. I had the Best Man at our wedding, and both the ushers nailed me. Before the Evening Reception. At some point, you will get your cock out and come see us."

"But..."

"That's an order. I am not having my husband get the benefit and me deprived." She gave him a little pat on the thigh. "I am sure we can persuade this Virginia to make it a foursome. How does that sound?" I watched Scott blush in the mirror. I liked to see him squirm. "Hey, I have an idea. Now Martin is back, why don't you share my bed in the house with me."

"I'll ride home, thanks," Scott hurriedly replied. "One day, maybe."

When we arrived at the house, Clare came out to greet us. She kissed me on the lips and gave Martin and I three suitcases to unload. The sex toys, whips and other paraphernalia had to be cleaned and then put away in the dungeon. The clothing had to be washed carefully. Scott relaxed in the hot tub with our partners, necking cocktails and laughing loudly.

In Clare's case, I noted plenty of cum stains on two of her cocktail dresses. I knew she hadn't visited Bristol to be a saint, and that her working trip away was with predominantly male colleagues, but the blatant sight of her aversion to monogamy was unexpected.

"She sure had a great time," Martin remarked as I stared at them. "So good to see, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"Hey man, it's the relationships we have. We have to accept, love and enjoy that our loved ones express themselves sexually. Look how much of a good time your woman had." He held up a similar outfit from his holiday. "This is Victoria's dress at a local party. She was naked shortly afterwards, but look there and there." He highlighted stains on the green summer dress and smiled. "She really had fun. It was so sexy."

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes, it's just hard when we've been apart for a few days. She promised me tomorrow is a couple day, so I am going to take her out, then for lunch, and then I thought we'd walk around Shakerley Mere and feed the ducks. Maybe the evening together too, if she's up for it."

He patted me on the back. "To put you on the level?"

"Something like that." We shared takeaway from the local pizzeria, and the five of us relaxed in the garden, drinking cocktails. Scott admonished Martin for his gift and promised that there would a "thorough thrashing" when he was ready.

Scott was the first to leave us, followed by Clare; she had been up late the night before and had been driving all day, and went to bed at eight. After her friend retired to her bedroom, Victoria followed, and the two cucks walked to our shared lodge. The moment we reached the summerhouse I looked across at Martin, who stretched and yawned. "If you're not tired, I have a favour," Martin asked.

"Yeah, me too." He grinned and exhaled deeply.

"I was in chastity all week and so the cucks didn't get any..."

"Head or Tail?"

"Yeah. And I'm quite horny."

"Me too. Scott was here, and he is 100% top, 0% bottom. And it always felt good, but I need some pressure releasing."

Martin smiled, and we slipped into our bedroom to engage in some mutual-69.

For the first time since he left, I blew my load into another person. It felt, incredible.

Improved only by the several spurts of cum which hit the back of my throat. And the text from my fiancée who had witnessed it on the CCTV camera from her own bedroom. Cuckolds do not get privacy, Victoria had often reminded me. They do not deserve it.