distant-thunder-2

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Subject: Distant Thunder – 2 In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or forbidden for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two consenting young cousins is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A photo album (pdf) concerning this story is available upon request . This being said, I hope you enjoy the rest of the tale. ———- DISTANT THUNDER Part 2 out of 3 by Marin Giustinian ———- Nowadays, in and around the Pamlico Sound in North Carolina (Google Maps or Google Earth if you’re not familiar with the place) ———- As dawn was breaking, that special Outer Banks light flooded the wagon, bathing ‘my work of art’ and me in its rays. Jonathan was breathing, but hadn’t budged an inch during the night. I gently touched his chest, caressing his nipples, then his belly down to his pubes. He hummed a low-toned moan as I gave his very erect cock a gentle squeeze, whispering, “Good morning, cousin.” His eyes slowly opened, one after the other. Then came his smile. His cock throbbed a little in my grip. I let go and touched his cheek. “Good morning, Barry,” he murmured, “It’s soooo good to wake up with you there, touching me. Felt real good!” He slid up close and hugged me, pressing his erection against mine. He whispered in my ear, “But, I’ve really got to pee!” “Me too!” We scrambled out of bed with both our cocks bouncing up front and ran, laughing down to the dock. We had fun, crossing our piss streams, giggling like school boys. “I think a nice cup of coffee can help us to wait for breakfast.” “Great decision!” he replied sitting at the table while I scrambled some eggs. “It’s fun not having to dress for coffee!” “It’s fun having such becoming, naked company for coffee too. You’re a beautiful sight to behold, Jonathan, even getting out of bed!” “So are you, Barry. Can I give you a kiss?” We still had our healthy hard-ons. I knew I blushed like a debutante and nodded. He looked a little surprised by my reaction and stalled. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I quipped. He jumped up and planted a wet smack right beside my mouth. It tickled. “I guess we’d better get dressed for breakfast though!” I exclaimed, not really wanting to go where this was taking us. New things have a way of scaring me and what I was feeling was really brand new — new, yet somewhat familiar — what I felt should have been immoral. At least that’s what I’d heard in the scouts… and yet it felt unusually natural. At any rate, I had to put my pants on! “Yeah, I guess we should! Isn’t it a real pity?” ———- I showed him around my little solitary settlement, so to speak. Other than for the well pump, I had built two platforms about a foot and a half off the ground. One for my bell tent that I used as a workshop and another for my firewood with a general storage container on the side. I kept the weeds and brush growth cut back to avoid bugs, snakes and other varmints coming in too close. The last thing I showed him was the raised carport and my Wrangler Sahara, my modern mule, I called it. When it floods, the wagon is high enough to ride out the high water. For the rest, it’s really safer to stay off the ground a little. “So there you know what your surroundings are. Don’t stray off. It’s easy to get lost down here, but if you need some privacy, you can go a little into the woods. We boys do have private needs!” He nodded, blushing a little as I added, “However, watch out for poison ivy and keep an eye on your feet!” “You’re the greatest, coolest cousin on earth, Barry. I’ve always idolized you. My folks always talked about you with praise. I was a little jealous even. Do you remember when I was so sullen at Christmas a few years ago. I didn’t know how to cope with my feelings then and sort of kept to myself. I must have been a real nerd.” “Now that you mention it, I do remember and you were effectively a real nerd.” We both laughed, “Thank God you’ve changed a lot and for the better, even if you do behave a little like a country club boy at times.” “Is that true? I’ll watch out from now on!” “No problem, man. That’s how you were raised.” “I’m raising myself now! So I’ll watch out.” “How do you cope with your feelings now, Jonathan?” “Like this!” He grabbed me giving me a very warm hug. I sort of melted. ———- We made sandwiches in advance for lunch and afterwards, we went under my work tent, folded up the sides for the breeze. I handed him a piece of wood and asked him to make an image. “You can choose whatever you feel like doing : the subject, the technique, colors, sketching, etching… just do what comes to you first, without thinking about what I nor anybody else can think about it.” I went to wash the salt off the boat, check the oil, etc. He spent a good hour on his piece. He worked fast with great precision. When he had finished, he called me over, “Take a look, Barry, It’s finished.” There on the table laid a magnificent portrait of a young man or perhaps a girl, in the classical style, done with charcoal and white pastel. The subject looked very inspired, like a painting of Delacroix, head turned towards the rear, hair blowing in the wind, one eye visible and wide open as if fleeing something or someone very threatening. I was terribly impressed. “That’s wonderful, Jonathan! What’s he or she running from?” “That’s me running from myself.” I looked at him. We were standing, side by side in front of the low table. He looked straight at me with big watery eyes, then breaking the silence, he said, “You keep saying that I’m beautiful. I am. That’s a fact I can’t deny, but I’m sort of sick of being mistaken for a girl and I …” “You’ll grow out of it — don’t worry.” “And I’m scared crazy that I might be gay.” He never lowered his eyes. “And what if you were? Not everybody has that chance.” “What? Are you mad? You say it’s a CHANCE to be gay? You should hear your conservative, Republican fart head of an uncle, I have as a father, rant about queers, perverts and the whole litter of monsters. According to him, they’re all fuel for eternal hell fire. He’d have you stoned on the steps of the church if he heard that!” “I don’t give a damn! Yes, I affirm that being gay IS a chance, Jonathan. I don’t know why, but it is. That I know. I know it very well! I’m gay.” His jaw dropped. “I never told anybody up till now…” “Let me think about that some. Okay?” ———- The next day, Jonathan’s first reaction gave way to even more affection after me telling him about being virgin and having gay feelings. He said he felt the same and was totally inexperienced too. We laughed about how ignorant and ‘green’ we were. In fact, we got along better and better and worked well together. He was improving a lot just overnight. The kid was hitting me hard. I showed him my technique of transferring photo prints on wood and gaziantep travesti retouching them with ink, watercolors or smudges. He was thrilled. “Do you ever do images of people? You know, nudes, portraits, allegories and such, like I did there?” “No. I never had a model. Also, it’s the kind of picture you don’t hang up in the kitchen or put on a Kleenex box.I need the real thing and above all motivated inspiration.” “I see.” He walked over to the edge of the platform and simply said, looking out on the water, “If you want, I can model for you…” “Thanks! I’ll think about it.” “Whenever you want… I’d be happy to help!” It was better to change the subject while we took a break. “How do you want to make a living, Jonathan?” “How do you make yours?” “You got me there! Good question! First of all, I keep my monetary needs as low as possible. You see how I live. I don’t smoke. I eat only heathy stuff. I stay well to not pay doctors. Secondly, my work is quite commercial. I’m sure most of my images are hanging in the toilets of the ladies who buy them in the gift shops. I don’t complain. I’ve never studied what could be called ‘Art’ with a capital ‘A’. I do what I feel, when I feel it, and that’s a very rare privilege for people who work. Thirdly, my sales’ territory is perfect with all the holiday homes, retirees and other kinds of the well-to-do idle people who come to live around here … and make prices soar. Anyhow, my retailers are nice people and they keep me busy. So that’s how I make a living, cousin.” “For me, I think I’d strive for more… not money wise but art wise. Even if I were poor, I’d like to get my stuff sold in art galleries more than in gift shops.” I raised my eyebrows a little… “Don’t get me wrong! I admire you! I guess I’m dreaming. It takes guts, talent and probably a lot of playing up to people to get into good art galleries. I don’t know if I’m daring enough. We could dare some stuff together, couldn’t we, cousin!” “Listen, I’m not the daring type. We’ll see.” “You? Not daring? Perhaps not in art, but look how you live, look what your life style looks like to the mainstream! You dare living a totally different life than them! You’re not hippy, dirty, drugged. You’re good looking, clean and totally revolutionary! Our art and our lives should be the same thing, shouldn’t they, Barry?” He looked at me with eager expectation. I was moved. Even love for me could be seen in his eyes. I’d never seen that, experienced that, nor at least let myself experience that before. I remained silent. “Did I hurt you, Barry?…” “No, not at all. I was just thinking that I needed to hear that. Let me thank you.” He smiled and lowered his head some. “Listen, talking about life and art combining, I had planned on going with Spirit on a sort of inspiration trip, an expedition so to speak. I was leaving once we’d finished and I had sent you back home. Now, for me, things have changed. I’d like to invite you, that is if you don’t have other plans, to come with me. It’s roughing it some. I’ve got a pop-up tent, held down by six flush pull rings on deck, a big sleeping bag and a galley locker for cooking aboard. Spirit holds forty gallons of fresh water. We’d stay out of marinas and towns, living in creeks along Portsmouth Island, maybe Ocracoke some. I need to go where there’s nobody. I’ve only seen these places on maps and on internet. Now I want to go there for real! I want to go beach-combing and such and take loads of pictures. To be frank, I find that you’re a great guy, really inspiring and I think we understand each other. We should be gone for about a week or so. What do you say? Could you call your folks and ask?” “Oh my God, Yes, I certainly can!” He whipped out his phone and rang up his mother. This kid knew how to seize the moment! I was a bit jealous with all my hesitations. They parlayed for some long five to ten minutes. He paced up and down outside, gesticulating all the time. In my mind, I was crossing my fingers. Then he ran back to the tent shouting, “She agreed, Barry! I can stay as long as I want, but you’ll have to drive me back when we’ve finished. I think she’s even glad to get me out of the house…Ha!” “Well, that’s settled and settled in a hurry! I’m glad! We’ll have time on the boat to work on art together and talk about future possibilities. There’s so much beauty out there, Jonathan, in the dunes, along the strand where nobody’s messing it up with endless rows of cottages, piers, arcades and rubbish. I live for natural beauty! With you, cousin, an overdose of it is hitting me hard. I might dare taking you up on your offer to model. We’re going to have loads of fun!” ———- Living on Spirit is rather stark, if not to say austere. In a certain way, that’s a luxury too! We filled up on everything : fuel, water, food, beer, ice, etc., for several days out on the water. After a good lunch, we pulled out and set our course to Portsmouth Island. Crossing the sound went like a dream. The tide was high so we got in close enough to wade ashore and walk all over to the ocean side and the dunes. As we eased in as close as possible, the smell of wildflowers and ocean mist welcomed us. The water was clear and very inviting. We were alone in the world. “Oh! Let’s take a dip, Barry!” “In a minute. We’ve got to anchor the boat first.” “What do I do?” “Well, go up front and drop the anchor in when I tell you too. I’ll then back off a little to plough it in good.” There was enough room in the creek for us to turn on the chain in case the wind changed. Once that was done, I turned off the motor. The sound of the waves from the ocean side could be heard in the distance. Jonathan was already naked and in the water. I stripped and hopped overboard, joining him. It was hard to find enough depth to actually swim in, but it was fun just frolicking around. We groped each other, laughing and horsing around like kids. Jonathan was better at being a kid than me. He still had a lot of kid in him. I was finding out that I still had some too! We climbed back in the boat. I fetched a pail of fresh water and with our tin cups, we poured it slowly over each other, sponging and rinsing the salt off. Jonathan glistened in the lowering sun. I gazed, just looking at him. “So why are you just standing there, Barry? What are you waiting for?” “Ah… Nothing. Just checking to see if we were mosquito food. We’re lucky, no one’s out biting.” We popped open some beers and relaxed, naked on deck watching the sun creep down over the sound. Jonathan sided up to me and whispered, “The surf sounds like distant thunder. I’m so happy, Barry!” He leaned in and this time kissed me on the mouth, delicately at first, then he kissed me again and I kissed him back. Taking him by the neck and leaning over some, together, lust hit like a tidal wave. We made out like mad and the waves gaziantep masaj salonları of thunder pounded on and on, over beyond the dunes. We rolled naked, one over the other, kissing and grinding our very stiff cocks together. At one point, I came up for air, laughing a bit nervously and said, “Let’s wait for bed to see where this takes us. I’ve heard of kissing cousins before, but this beats it all! Even if I don’t have any experience, I feel that you’re an expert kisser! I’m leaking like mad!” “Pure instinct, cousin! Me too, I’m leaking big time!” He reached out and took some of my precum on his finger and tasted it, “Yummy! Stronger than mine!” He then stood, brandishing his gorgeous cock, dripping in the sun and declared, “I’m hungry…” “Well, let’s eat!” “Each other?” “No, not yet, silly!. I mean eat supper!” He gave me a mock look like a kid from whom you’ve jerked away his candy. Then laughing, he said, “What can I do to help?” “Just sit there and look beautiful!” “Dork!” I opened the galley locker and started heating up a jar of my best fish stew. Jonathan popped up the tent and got us our sweaters and bonnets out. The evening chill was coming in. We opened some more beer and laid out the meal on deck, picnic style. We sat cross-legged and ate in silence. We just sat there, looking at each other, smiling, sighing and giggling a little. Jonathan licked his lips in a very provocative way, which made me laugh. “Enjoying the stew?” I asked. “The stew and soon you!” The sunset was awesome. Streams of gold spread over the waters, slowly sinking into a deep velvet purple as the day yielded to the oncoming night. When the show was over and the first stars were twinkling, I lit the lantern, simply saying, “As I said before, I live for beauty. Beauty is my life and now. Jonathan, beauty is you. Even if I’m not that sleepy, let’s clean up and turn in…” “I’m not sleepy either — so let’s get in bed together!” ———- We opened the tent as much as possible, leaving only the inside mosquito netting tightly zipped. The bedding was spread and the lantern cast a very delicate glow. Jonathan laid on his back, propped up on his elbows. He looked at me, saying nothing, breathing deeply. His cock, like a candle, stretched up, precum glistening as it seeped down the shaft. His lips were full, pulpy and a deeper pink than usual. I too felt all kinds of erotic energy surging in me, between us, in the night surrounding us. It was a big moment for both of us! I slid up close to him, laying on my side, my own seeping cock sought his lithe thigh, his flesh, his soul. A soft, innocent smile illuminated his flawless face. We grabbed each other as we melded in a tumultuous embrace, our legs squirming, our lips crushing, our tongues thrusting deep into each others’ mouths. Spirit gently rocked, sometimes thudding on the sand of the descending tide. The air inside became thick with the pungent perfume of youthful, ardent male arousal. Natural instinct took over. Our mouths began their rampant pilgrimage, kissing, licking, exploring pits, tits, bellies and pubs. Shifting constantly our positions until we found the sacred object of our quest, we swallowed each others’ cock, humming, growling our mutual satisfaction. We feasted on the tangy honey of precum. Little by little a newer, more acrid taste smeared our tongues. Our hips twisted, pushing and pulling our cocks, now trembling, in and out of the back of our mouths. Suddenly, Jonathan yelped and arched, thrusting his cock nearly down my throat. I gaged a little as he gushed on and on down in me. I swallowed and as if crazed, he dove down again on me as I trembled. He sucked my cock with all his force, seeking my semen. There I was, shaking like a leaf in the wind, spurting and spewing, feeding him with all my force. The world had suddenly stopped turning. Our deed of love was done! We didn’t move. We just held each other tight, our cocks still filling our mouths. The boat gently thumped some more and then grounded as did our souls. Slowly coming back down to nowness, we shifted around, stretched and broke out laughing, not because something was funny. We were laughing because we were happy. We were laughing because of a brand new, life changing joy had swept us away, together. Because of a happiness way beyond the absence of hurt revealed itself in a sudden orgasmic flash. We laughed because of our victory over our own limits, because of Life itself! We laughed because of the thrill of just being alive, sharing life as life experienced itself between us, finding us in each other… at last! I felt the need to say something but the words died in my throat. So did Jonathan’s. Nothing was said, leaving way to the eloquence of silence. We were at home… together. After a long kiss, I took the lantern and handed it to Jonathan. He smiled at me, pushed down the little lever and blew out the flame. The pitch black of the night surrounded us. The distant pounding of the waves faded into the silence of a deep, satiated sleep. ———- When we awoke, Spirit was back afloat and the sun had already risen, heating the tent and us in it. We were still entangled as we were when we fell asleep. Jonathan kissed me on the forehead and crept out to pee. I was close behind. Instead of peeing, he simply jumped overboard! He was swimming on his back. “Wow! What a morning! I feel like I’ve grown more in one night than in alI my life. I don’t know if I love you Barry! But I love loving you and that’s enough for me!” he shouted, flipped over and disappeared under the water. He came up a few yards away. “Come on in! I need a big cousin hug!” Of course I jumped and halfway walked, halfway swam out to him. We stood up to our necks in the water, smiling like morons. I held out my arms, waiting for him. He ducked under and slid up my cock and chest, grabbing my waist and giving me a very salty kiss. Then he surprised me! Gripping me behind the neck, he drug me under water with him. Of course I resisted! Wiggling like an eel, I freed myself from his hold. Sputtering, I got back on my feet just in time to see Jonathan, his arms raised to the sky, shouting, “Barry! I baptize us in the name of love!” I laughed, raising my arms too, shouting “Amen!” and fell back, like in a trance, howling, “Hallelujah!” into the water once more. Onboard, we rinsed off and enjoyed a full breakfast, never mentioning what happened the night before. What was there to talk about? Our acts of flesh, heart and soul spoke for themselves. “Let’s spend the day just walking around and exploring, Jonathan! You can’t get to this island by car! It’s a park. So the run of the mill tourist isn’t here. In fact there’s practically nobody here from what I’ve heard. It’s preserved from ordinary beach horrors. There’s a little ferry down on the other end, just for a few vehicules, mostly gaziantep escort bayan for fishermen coming to do some surf casting, so we might see a beach buggy or two with some fat men, young and old, in their waders, hoping to catch a fish or two. Otherwise, we’re alone here. I can’t wait to see the strand, empty as far as you can see, with nothing manmade in sight!” “Let’s go! Bring your camera! I’ll grab a towel and my sunscreen. Do I need my shorts?” “I don’t know. Put them in the picnic bag just in case a ranger comes by. Grab a bottle of water and some snacks too.” We waded ashore and traipsed across the dunes. The sand was already hot but the breeze was cool. Wind blown live oaks, shrubs, twisted myrtle trees and tall grass thrived in this world of soft dunes. I don’t know the name of the flowers, but they smelled heavenly. Climbing the last dune, there it was! The entire ocean spread out at our feet. Nothing between us and Africa! The empty beach disappeared in kind of haze, as well to our left as to our right. The strand was blindingly white, with all kinds of shells, crabs and busy sea birds scrambling hither and yon. It was for more beautiful than I had imagined! Jonathan and I shared looked at everything : a stray feather, a crab scurrying around a tidal pool, a sand dollar here and a conch shell there. Every now and then, there would be an uncovered deposit of tiny shells. He rummaged in one and came up with a shark’s tooth. He ran over to me with his treasure between his fingers, “I’m going to make a necklace with it! I’m going to find one for you too!” he exclaimed, scurrying off again. I sat contemplating the waves. They’ve been doing their monotonous coming and going ever since the beginning of time, sometimes in the fury of a storm, sometimes simply lapping the sand in a dead calm, but their tidal motion had been there for billions of years and had never ceased. I mused over my newly found meaning of life : I guess it’s called love. Love must be like the tide, always moving, never stopping, always the same and always unique, stirring our soul with every breath. Do I love Jonathan? Yes! Yet, our story is as old and as common as the tide and yet it’s the only story that ever happened in time itself — because it’s ours. My awareness will come and go like the tidal waves of our lovemaking. Nothing else is sure — our wonderful lovemaking makes love arise in the world. How can I dare make art, now that I’m realizing that? “Barry! Barry! Look, I found three more,” he exclaimed, running back to me. He flopped down with me, shoulder to shoulder, laying his open hand on my thigh, saying, “Choose the one you like! Go ahead, choose!” “I hate choosing… Do I have to?” “Yes, you do! How can I give you the right one, the one I know you like, if you don’t make the choice yourself?” “I choose this one.” “Good choice!” “And even if you’re alone with me, I choose you too, Jonathan.” He looked at me and smiled, his eyes gleaming with infinite tenderness. “I’ll keep what you’ve chosen to make something with it for you — and you keep me and make something with me for me! Never let me go. I’ll give you all I can of me, Barry, all the way! That’s a promise!” He pushed me over in the moist sand and kissed me, just like that, out there on the immense, deserted beach of nowhere. ———- We must have walked several miles when I suddenly got a bit worried. How to find the boat again? All the dunes looked alike. We turned around and headed back, not really worried but a little anxious all the same. We climbed one dune, then another and finally we saw our footprints still in the upset sand where we had run down on the beach from the dunes. Climbing again, we sighted Spirit. “Wow! Do I feel better! And you, Jonathan?” “A lot better. That was a little scary. I guess the fear of going astray is a danger lurking even in paradise…” We sat down in a patch of flowers and grass. Our snack was devoured in minutes. When all was swallowed, Jonathan stood and pulled the camera out of the sack. I asked him to hand me his sunscreen too. “My ass is turning red as a tomato!” “And you’ll need some up front too! Come over here and I’ll smear it in for you.” His gentle hands rubbed the lotion in on all over the right places, nearly making me shoot off right there. Jonathan thought that was lots of fun. I did too. “Now it’s your turn! Let’s see if you can hold back as well as I did!” As I rubbed and stroked and rubbed some more, he shuddered an instant. The throb threatened, then subsided. He laughed, dancing away. “Wow, that really got me going!” he exclaimed. With that, we went straight to work, me behind the lenses, him in front. He was so natural, standing, sitting, reclining. I felt like the pictures were taking themselves. I was in a sort of trance, and click, click and click again. He moved in closer. I kept on clicking and then he took the camera, put it back in the sack and touched my lips with his fingers. I grabbed his hand and leaned back, my eyes looking up at him against the blazing sky. The top of the tide was there. We’d have to swim back to the boat. So we stayed. The towel was spread out. I reclined. Jonathan hovered over me, kneeling just above my head. We kissed upside down, feather touching, teasing each other. Then, darting his tongue between my lips, he murmured, “I’m thirsty again.” “So am I…” I uttered with a breaking voice, panting a bit. We coiled up in our natural position to feed on each others’ energy — and substance too. This time there was no hurry, no frenzy, just sucking like babes on their mothers’ breasts, humming and tonguing, relishing the presence of each other deep inside our hungry mouths. My head pillowed on his thigh, I savored the dance of his cock in my throat. He mirrored me doing the same. The distant thunder of the waves crashing on the beach below accompanied in rhythm the slow rolling motion of our hips. Just like the rising tide, there was an instant of trembling immobility and then, shaken by convulsing throaty grunts, we gave forth our most intimate offerings, receiving them at the same time. Catching our breath, we sat up beaming a very wet smile at each other. A drop of my semen drooled from the corner Jonathan’s mouth. I wiped it with my finger. He grabbed my hand and licking my finger, stated, “What’s given is given and I want it all, all the way!” “I surrendered it to you, man, all the way too!” “Barry, my God, you’re the best!” We took our time returning to Spirit. We rinsed off and then looked at the pictures I had taken. We were both surprised at how great they looked. “Can you imagine what you can do with those pictures, Barry? They are fabulous!” “I can imagine what WE can do with them. It was your presence that pulled the pictures out of my camera. I just did the button pushing!” “And I was moving, feeling so free to do what I was doing because it was you, pushing the button! Who does what is of no matter. We just do it together. Next time, you model and I use the camera! It’s a dare!” “I accept the dare! Now I’m going to try to catch us some fish for supper.” “And I’ll go gather some driftwood to fuel our fire.” ———- A photo album (pdf) concerning this story is available upon request .

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