Bears, page 14
I cleared my throat.
“Yes?” The bald man half turned so that his body was in profile—flat stomach, nice cock, a birthmark on the side of his buttcheek—and looked straight at me. It was my fellow Hercules admirer from the museum. Only now he wasn’t wearing his eye patch, and I realized that he had two perfectly good eyes after all. One of them was a deep brown, and the other was a piercing, almost glowing blue.
All I could do was stare. He looked amused. Finally, he said, “Why don’t you come in the shower with me? We need to get that honey rinsed off.”
I stepped into the shower. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, running soapy hands over my chest, turning the crust to slime. “But I know you must have a lot of questions. I don’t mind answering them, considering last night you gave me the best sex I’ve had in ages.”
Of course I had a million questions, but all of them would sound ridiculous.
As he turned to get more soap, the shower water rinsed some suds away from his side and I realized what I had thought was a birthmark was actually a tattoo.
At least now I had a question. “Does V.R. really mean Very Rough?”
He laughed. “Victoria Regina. I had it done back when I was in the Navy.”
“Under Queen Victoria.”
“I’m older than I look.”
My head was spinning. “So let me get this straight. Right this minute I’m taking a shower with some kind of werewolf.”
“Were-bear,” he corrected. “But I need more than just a full moon to change. I need the right partner. And you, my friend, brought out the beast in me.”
I decided to take that as a compliment. And I also decided to show him, there in the shower, that he brought out the beast in me, too.
Aooooo!
DIGGER
Hank Edwards
I notice him right away from my post inside the tiny gas station office; he is difficult to miss. Standing in the middle of the torn-up street, he shovels rocks out of the sand base dumped the day before and smooths over the rough areas. He works apart from the rest of the crew, bare-chested with his dirty T-shirt tucked into a back pocket of his faded jeans, and a navy blue bandana tied around his head. I let my gaze travel over his body and reach down to shift the swiftly hardening length of my cock to a more comfortable position. He is a big man, around six foot two if he’s an inch, with a dark shadow of beard and a deeply tanned and hairy torso. His pecs are big and firm above the slight pouch of a belly that hangs over the droopy, faded waist of his jeans. He stops his work and leans on the handle of his shovel to catch his breath, reaching to wipe sweat from his face with the back of his muscular, hairy forearm. I take the opportunity to zero in on the dark, hairy tuft of his armpit, and my cock throbs for release.
The gas station where I work sits on the corner of a usually well-traveled intersection. Three months ago, however, two construction projects were started several miles down each of the roads that make up my intersection and now those projects have come together, closing off the roads with battalions of resented orange barrels routing traffic to other streets. Bulldozers, dirt haulers, some kind of asphalt grinder that tore up the road and threw dust and tar into the air, and a score of sweaty, beefy men all converged on my little corner of the world. I begged the owner to close the doors when the roads were torn up, to just shut down for two weeks until the repaving was completed. But he refused, saying that the surrounding neighborhood depended on the gas station’s small convenience store for milk, groceries, and lottery tickets.
So I sit on the stool and stare out the window at the big man working in the hot sun on his own. Sweat runs down his face and chest, attracting dirt like a magnet as his tanned skin glistens. I squeeze my fully erect cock once again and have just decided to take a break in the back office and jerk off when the big bear of a man tosses his shovel aside and walks toward the station. I drop my eyes to his wide hips, the denim covering them stained with sweat and dirt, watching breathlessly as he walks closer. His strides are long and strong, the muscles of his legs flexing beneath the faded material of his jeans. His scuffed and dirty work boots kick up clouds of dust as he passes the pumps and crosses the lot. He pulls the dusty T-shirt from his back pocket and wipes off his face, then tosses it over his shoulder before pushing through the glass door into the mildly cooler store.
I sit up straight on my stool and our eyes lock for a moment when he steps inside. He nods and heads to the coolers in back, giving me a good look at his sweaty, hairy back. I groan quietly at the sight. He is the most masculine man I have seen in a long, long time, and my asshole twitches as fantasies explode in my head.
He approaches the glass-enclosed checkout to set three large bottles of water on the counter, then reaches back for his wallet. Sweat stands out on his face and body and I ache to run my tongue through the thick, dark hair on his chest and lap it up, savoring the salty taste.
“That it?” I ask casually.
“Yeah, it’ll do,” he responds and looks up at me. “Till you get off work.”
I blush, taken back by his forwardness. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I’ve seen you watching me,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice as he passes money through the opening in the glass partition. “Grabbin’ your crotch and starin’ out the window.” He nods to where his shovel lies abandoned in the dirt. “You got me so riled up I had to take a break and come in here to check you out up close.” He runs his eyes over my body and grins. “Skinny, but you got hair on your chest so you can’t be all bad.”
My mouth hangs open and I am at a loss for words. I weigh in at one-hundred-ninety pounds with blond hair, blue eyes, and dark blond hair on my chest and back. I shift my weight and look back up at him, completely at a loss for words.
He smiles. “Come to my place when you get off work.” Turning to look around, he says, “Unless you’re the only one here.”
I shrug and glance nervously out the window, noticing that the rest of his crew has departed for lunch and we are, indeed, alone. “Well, yeah, I am. But…”
He tips his head back. “Let me in there.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Okay, then meet me out here,” he says and smiles. “My crew will be back in half an hour so we don’t have much time.”
My stomach is in knots as I take the key and step out the reinforced door to his side of the glass. I can smell his sweat and my stomach knots harder as my cock strains at my jock, eager to be in the grip of this big, sweaty bear. He turns to face me, the navy blue bandana tied around his head catching the steel of his eyes.
“Let’s go back here,” he says, reaching out to grab me by the front of my shorts and pull me to the rear of the store, where he stops and turns to face me. “You like sweat?”
I lick my dry lips and nod, my eyes locked on his face. He pulls me into him, crushing me against his sweaty body as his lips mash mine, his tongue filling my mouth. A grunt rumbles in my throat at the heat of his kiss and I raise my hands to palm his sweaty, dirty chest. My fingers find his nipples and pinch.
“Harder,” he growls into my mouth as his whiskers rake my clean-shaven jaw. “Pull on ’em.”
I tighten my grip on his tits and pull on the hardening nipples but they’re slippery with sweat and my fingers can’t keep hold. He becomes impatient and pulls his mouth off mine to press my face down into the hairy, sweaty slickness of his chest. “Bite ’em.”
My teeth nip and tug at his nipples. I run my left hand over the sweaty, hairy expanse of his back as my right runs down over the slick paunch of his belly to squeeze the bulge in his jeans. His cock is hard and long, extending down the length of his right thigh. I groan at the feel of its heat through the denim.
“Oh, that’s nice,” he moans. “Squeeze that cock. Yeah, that’s it.”
His rough, hairy hand moves down my back and slips beneath my shorts, where he cups my hairy left cheek. He moves his hand to my asscrack and slides a sweaty finger down its length to the wet heat of my clenched asshole, where he begins to rub in a slow, circular motion.
“Loosen ’er up, buddy,” he says in a low voice. “Let my finger in there. That’s it, ease it open.”
His blunt, thick finger slips deep into my anus and I sigh and groan against the wet heat of his chest. As I move my head to the side he raises his arm so I can bury my face in his sweat-soaked armpit. He smells rank and masculine and I breathe in deeply before opening my mouth and running my tongue through the thick hair of his pit. I snuffle and snort along his hairy hollow, slurping up his sweat as he pokes his finger deep into my ass. I rub my face through the fragrant bush of his armpit, and then return to his chest to suck his nipples again.
Firm pressure on the back of my head moves me lower along his body until my face is pressed against the dirty, sweaty crotch of his jeans. I grab the denim-covered length of his cock in my teeth and bite up and down along the shaft. He must be seven inches long at least, and thick.
“You’ve got a hot hole,” he says as his finger prods deeper still. He bends it slightly and twists it inside me.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp. “Get that hole.” I fumble with his zipper until his jeans fall open and slide down his legs, revealing sturdy, hairy thighs that bookend a thick, uncut cock and a set of hairy, sweaty, low-hung balls. My asshole tightens around his finger at the sight of his dick and he chuckles.
“You like that meat, huh?” he says. “Want that big bear cock up your tight ass?”
“Oh, yeah,” I reply, grabbing his dick and stroking it before opening my mouth to take as much as I can handle down my throat. The smell of his sweat fills my head as my nose dips into his damp, dirty bush. His cock is a salty slab of meat lying along my tongue. I slowly ease it out of my mouth to pull the foreskin back, exposing a wide, peach-colored head, on which I plant a deep, sucking kiss.
“Yeah, that’s the way,” he sighs and burrows a second finger up beside his first, both drilling my asshole faster and faster as I suck on the head of his cock. “Get that head. Suck it good and hard.”
I release my grip on his dick and suck him, moving my mouth more quickly up and down along his hard pole as I grab his sweat-sticky nuts and pull them taut. He grunts and reaches down to hold my head still as his hips come to life and he fucks my face. The long, thick length of him jabs deep into my throat, choking me with every thrust. I squeeze my eyes closed to focus on relaxing my throat. He has two fingers up my ass and his cock pumping into my gullet as I pull on his balls and brace myself against the hard muscle of his thigh.
“Man, I just gotta get a taste of your cock,” he says, and slips his fingers out of my hole as he pulls his dick from between my lips. I watch his cock pull away, gleaming with my spit, then he pulls me upright and pushes my shorts and jock down before lifting me up to the counter in the back corner of the store, next to the fountain pop dispenser. My circumcised dick stands straight up along my belly, precum flowing down the seven-inch shaft, like sexual lava. He bends over and swallows me in one gulp, pressing his whiskered face into my lap as his tongue rolls around my cock.
“Uh!” I grunt, closing my eyes and resting my head against the wall. He sucks me hard and deep, pulling on his own cock as he works mine over with his mouth. I pull off my tank top and he slides his free hand up to pinch a nipple, then cups my armpit, sliding his fingers through the sweaty hair.
Easing my legs over his strong, hairy shoulders, he lets my cock flop out of his mouth as he moves down to suck my balls. His tongue, wide and hot, slathers over my hairy sac as he jacks his cock and moves his other hand down from my armpit to begin stroking my dick. He sucks my nuts into his mouth and closes his lips over them tight, pulling back and then shaking his head slowly from side to side.
“Oh, suck my balls, yeah,” I groan and reach down to put my hands on the navy bandana still tied around his head. It comes off in my fingers and I find he is bald, a short cropped ring of hair traveling from ear to ear. I moan deeper as I bring his sweat-soaked bandana to my face and breathe in his scent. I have always been drawn to burly, bald men; this guy is a dream come true.
His tongue pushes my balls from between his lips and the spit-slick sac lolls over his nose as he digs into my hot, sweaty hole, burying his mouth in my ass. The scrape of his whiskers against my sensitive sphincter makes me wild and I plant my hands on the back of his head to press his face harder against me. His tongue flicks out to stroke the pink pucker of my anus, slicking it with spit that he pushes deeper inside with a thick finger.
He stands up suddenly, his log of a cock slapping against the counter and brushing along my thigh as he slides two fingers back into my ass and turns his head to inspect the display racks. Leaning over he grabs a box of condoms with his free hand and holds it up.
“Pay for these later, will ya?” he asks with a grin.
“Yeah,” I gasp, and pout when he retracts his fingers from my tingling, twitching hole to tear open the box and a packet from inside. My gut clenches as he lets a thick, white glob of spit fall onto the head of his dick before he rolls the condom along the veined and throbbing shaft.
He steps up between my legs, positions himself at the threshold of my body, then penetrates me with a slow, steady thrust. My mouth falls open and my head tips back as he pushes himself into me. My rectal muscles clench then release, opening up before his invading prick and closing back around it in a slick, wet embrace.
“Oh, fuck,” he moans, his eyes closed and sweat running down his face. “You’ve got a tight fuck hole.”
“Stretch that fuckin’ ass out,” I reply and lean forward to kiss him, my tongue bursting past his lips and tangling with his own. “Fuck me.”
He stands still as we kiss, his cock fully embedded inside my ass, then he pulls his hips back and rams himself deeper into me. I grunt as his thrust almost knocks the wind out of me, and my eyes pop open wide. I clench the muscles all along my anal tract as he pulls out, gripping him tight, and he groans before driving it home again.
I reach back and grab a fistful of his hairy, sweaty asscheeks in both hands as he pounds his cock up my ass. He stuffs his thick, uncut dick into my tight, battered hole faster, his strokes becoming deeper and more forceful. He kisses me again, his tongue hot and tasting of my sweaty ass as I listen to the pop and squelch of his cock punching in and pulling out of my asshole as well as the wet, solid spank of his sweaty, dirty skin meeting mine.
“Oh, fuck, you’re fuckin’ hole is fuckin’ tight,” he manages before his expression contorts. He sucks in his breath and screws up his face, leaning back and reaching up to grab my ankles where they bounce in the air. “Oh, fuck! I’m gonna shoot. Oh yeah, I’m fuckin’ cummin’!”
I take hold of my painfully hard cock and stroke it furiously. His thrusts become slower, deeper as he pumps his load into the tip of the condom buried high up inside my hole. I use my rectal muscles to bite down on his cock, keeping him inside me as I jerk myself to orgasm.
“Oh, yeah,” I alert him and then hear the wet pop as my load erupts all over my hairy chest and belly. He watches the cum splatter across my torso and moans encouragement, shallowly pumping into me with his slowly softening dick as sweat drips off his nose. Reaching down, he spreads the thick, sticky semen across my sweaty skin then rubs it into each of my nipples before raising his eyes to look in my face.
“That was fuckin’ hot,” he says.
“Yeah,” is all I can think to say back.
“What’s your name?” he asks with a smile.
“David. What’s yours?”
“Bill.”
“Nice to meet you, Billy,” I say and we laugh.
He eases himself out of me and I watch as he carefully pulls the condom off his dick, the thick, white cum in the tip sloshing as he looks for a trash can.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say and he hands it over with a sexy grin.
“I bet you will.” He pulls up his jeans, adjusts his sweaty package, and ties the bandana around his head with practiced ease. “Thanks for lunch,” he says with a wink. “What time do you get off?”
“Five,” I reply as I search for my jockstrap. He had pulled it off and tossed it somewhere but now I can’t find it.
“I’ll come by at five, unshowered, to give this back to you.” I turn to find him holding my sweaty jockstrap up to his face, inhaling the musky odor of my crotch. My cock twitches at the sight, a motion he notices with a cocked eyebrow.
“We’ll head back to my apartment,” he says as I quickly pull on my shorts and walk him to the door, where he grabs his bottles of water and then heads outside to shamble back across the lot to his shovel, my jockstrap stuffed in his front pocket. I pay for the box of condoms and try to find a comfortable spot on my stool, but my asshole will have none of it. It’s hungry for more cock and I cannot sit still. I tie a knot in the open end of the condom, trapping his cum inside, then slip it in the front pocket of my shorts. I’ll decide later what I’m going to do with it.
Pacing behind the counter, I finger the condom and watch as he works in the heat and dust. Every so often Bill looks up and smiles at me through the glass, reaching back to take my jockstrap from his pocket and use it to wipe his face. When I’m not watching Bill I watch the clock and think how an afternoon has never lasted this long.
A GLASS OF COGNAC
Jan Vander Laenen
Les natures au coeur sur la main ne se font pas l’idée des jouissances solitaires de l’hypocrisie, de ceux qui vivent et peuvent respirer, la tête lacée dans un masque. [Those of a very generous disposition have no idea of the solitary joys of hypocrisy, of those who live and can breathe with their head tied up in a mask.]
—Barbey D’Aurevilly, Les Diaboliques
