Boston Brea

As per normal all characters are over eighteen. This is based on a recent holiday to Boston. I've tried to be as accurate as possible with the area where I stayed. The holiday is true, the cider house is real but nobody got sick from clam chowder and all of the bar staff were very professional.

*

I could feel the icy bite of the Atlantic wind as it blew across the harbour. I was on a well deserved holiday to Boston. It was somewhere I'd always fancied visiting, during a wine filled evening a friend and myself had decided to book a last minute break during thanksgiving week. The city was everything I had thought it would be, historic, friendly and so very pretty. The stunning brownstone architecture and old historic buildings that mixed in with the rich fall colours were just stunning.

The day before we had taken the short train ride to Salem, as a slightly weird teenager I had developed a strong interest in the occult and the macabre, an obsession with the witch trials had ensued, so a trip to Salem had seemed obligatory. My friend had eaten some dodgy clam chowder and ended up spending the night and half the next day with her head down the toilet. So after being stuck in a vomit smelling hotel room for twelve hours, I found myself wandering the local neighbourhood for some fresh air and something to do while she slept it off.

Our hotel was located near Logan airport in east Boston, just overlooking the harbour with views across to downtown Boston. I couldn't be bothered to hop in a water taxi to cross the harbour so just stuck to strolling around the local area. I walked aimlessly enjoying the cold fresh sea air and wind. I wandered through a boat yard and I was just drawing level with a warehouse type building as a door opened and a group of people came out. The smell of cider and beer hit me at the same time as the sound of laughter and chattering people enjoying themselves. I saw a sign that said it was a cider house so I decided to check it out.

I walked in and I was stunned that a place so big could be so warm and inviting, I took a stool at the bar and was confronted by a shocking variety of barrels lined up in front of me. I asked the bar tender what he could recommend and he hooked me up with a seasonal winter brew. The sweet spicy flavours warmed my soul as much as my stomach as we chatted. It made a pleasant change from the Sam Adams lager I'd been drinking all week.

He asked what I was doing in Boston as he'd recognised my english accent. I explained I was on holiday and told him about my friends encounter with the "chowder of doom" we both laughed over the situation and he promptly poured me a refill on the house to help fix my holiday. He was an incredibly attractive guy I had already decided I liked his easy smile, blue eyes and wild curly hair with a full beard. But the more I drank the more I noticed the thick arms and chest, toned and muscled from the lifting of barrels, his thick Bostonian accent was sending my frustrated hormones into overdrive too.

I quickly found myself flirting with him as he simultaneously moved around the bar serving customers and keeping the conversation flowing. A few times his fingers brushed mine as he passed me a fresh drink and our eyes met. I could feel myself getting wetter with every hot stare. I noticed his gaze kept drifting down towards my chest, I glanced down and spotted that my now very stiff excited nipples were clearly showing through the bruins jersey I'd hastily thrown on earlier. He met my raised eyebrow with a guilty grin.

"I knock off in ten minutes if you fancy heading somewhere quieter?"

"Sounds like a plan." I replied as I quickly texted to let my friend know I would be late back. That ten minutes seemed to last a lifetime as we waited for his cover to arrive. Barely a word was spoken between us during this time but the tension was electric. I think we both knew a quick cup of tea and a chat wasn't on the cards. All I could think about was satisfying the ache building between my legs and in the pit of my stomach.

"C'mon we're off." He announced literally seconds after his replacement had arrived. I don't think the poor girl had even finished taking her coat off before he rushed me out of the door. My feet barely touched the ground as he took me by the hand and pulled me with him. The cold wind blew my hair in tangled waves in front of my face as we darted into the alleyway between the cider house and the warehouse next door, blocking some of the wind.

I felt the cold press of the brickwork against my back, contrasting with the heat coming from his body as he pushed me against the wall. His hands moved to the side of my face as he leant down towards. I gasped as his warm lips met mine, soft and warm with his thick beard tickling me. My lips parted as I felt his tongue pushing its way into my mouth. I let out a moan as I felt a firm hard bulge pushing against my stomach, his hands moving towards my waist, skimming under the jersey. My knees started to weaken as he suddenly stepped back leaving me staring breathlessly as he gazed down at me.

"Sorry about that, but I'd wanted to do that since you walked through the door. I couldn't wait any longer." Before I could reply he slung a strong arm over my shoulder and led me back into the wind again. We walked around the block to a street that was full of places that looked exactly as I'd always imagined the New England streets. All traditionally fronted old town houses with their period features. We reached one such town house that had been converted into apartments, he opened the door and we headed inside.

I expected the same forwardness he'd displayed in the alley once got inside but he seemed almost shy in his home. It was a lovely front room, a good mix of old fashioned mixed with modern music and sports memorabilia. He poured us both a large glass of bourbon and sat next to me on the couch. He seemed unsure of what to do next, I realised if anything was going to happen I would have to start things off. So I took his glass off him and placed it on the table. I looked him square in the eyes and reached up, grabbed his beard and gently pulled his face down to meet mine.

The second our lips met the brakes came off. He pushed me down onto my back. I opened my legs as he settled in between my thighs. His hard package was noticeable against my groin. My fingers dug into his thick curly hair as we kissed deeply. One of his hands reached under my top, sliding up towards my breasts. He cupped one squeezing and I could feel the warmth of his hand the thin fabric of my bra. I moaned and thrust my hips up wrapping my legs around his waist. Pulling him tight him up against me as he ground his groin into me.

My body was almost shaking with need by this point. I was feeling frantic with lust as my mouth fed on his, my nails digging into his shoulders, my heart pounding. I pushed him off me, I needed to feel his skin naked against mine. Struggling, we managed to get out of our clothes and I lay back down as his eyes travelled down my body. I was awestruck by the definition in his upper body. It looked like he was carved from stone, with a covering of very sexy chest hair. My eyes moved down and I could see he was so long, thick and incredibly hard, pointing towards me at an angle. A single bead of pre cum oozed from the tip running down his purple head.

I had an incredible urge to lick it. The thought of catching that little droplet on my tongue just before engulfing him in my mouth was just so appealing to me. Sadly he had other ideas, he leaned forward and took one of my erect nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirling and flicking across, as his lips sucked and teeth scraped the edges. The other nipple was teased, pinched and pulled between his fingers. My back arched and I cried out with a shiver. My legs once again finding themselves wrapped around his waist.

He slid his free hand between my legs, his thick fingers stroking up the length of my very wet slit. I heard him moan as he felt just how wet I was, he slipped two fingers inside me as his thumb circled my clit. I cried out pushing myself onto his hand starting to ache for release, squirming under him. "Fuck me, please just fuck me now!" He pulled off my nipples and moved back towards my mouth kissing me deeply. I felt him pull his fingers out of me leaving feeling me feeling empty.

He rubbed his hard cock up and down my slit before he slowly pushed inside me. I felt the bulbous head of him inside my dripping pussy, my lips spreading as I stretched around him. I could feel every thick veiny inch slowly filling me up until he bottomed out. He slowly pulled out, his mouth swallowing my cries as he moaned into me, our tongues entwined. He filled me perfectly as he pushed forward again with a deep thrust. Soon the room was filled with the rapid fire sounds of our wet flesh slapping together as I moved to meet every thrust of his hips with my own.

My nails scraped and dug into his muscled back. My teeth were clenched, biting that delicious spot where his shoulder met his neck. My nose was filled with the manly scent of soap and fresh sweat. He slid in and out of my tight wet flesh, driving me closer and closer, I could feel myself getting tighter and wetter. My body was starting to shake as the pressure built inside me, every thrust hitting my cervix and g spot. My moans and cries were turning into a constant stream.

After an impossibly long time on the edge of an orgasm I felt myself explode. The muscles in my thighs quivered as they gripped him, trying to keep him deep inside me. My now dripping cunt spasmed and convulsed around him. Juices flowed from me and I was dimly aware of him fighting to control himself as I came apart around him. As I started to calm down I felt him lose control, his thrusts becoming erratic as he swelled and began to pump stream after stream of his hot spunk inside me.

I lay still my body still shivering from aftershocks trying to catch my breath. My hands curled into his hair stroking as he lay in a sweaty heap on top of me lightly kissing my neck, his cock softening in my now very messy twat. I could quite happily of stayed like that for hours, waiting for him to recover for round two. Unfortunately my conscience kicked in and I realised I needed to get back to the hotel and see how my friend was doing.

"I should be heading off now, I'm sorry but thanks, that was incredible." I told him as I struggled to get back into my clothes.

"Its cool, I get it, you need to be heading back but if you want to feel free to pop back into the cider house before you fly back." He walked me out to the street, pulling me close for another kiss as we said our goodbyes.

I felt a lot more cheerful as I arrived back at the hotel. My friend was feeling better and declared she was ready for a beer and food. So we headed out for dinner in the hotel restaurant while I told her an edited version of my afternoon. I never did go back to the cider house but was certainly heading back to England with wicked memories of an excellent holiday in Boston.