Bears, page 20
Barry was wondering what the night held in store and how Bigpaw might solve his problem. He suddenly became impatient. “Okay, where do we begin?”
Onslo lifted a cover off a tray of cocktail glasses. “With the shrimp cocktail, I believe.”
“No, no, I don’t mean dinner, I mean with my program, my therapy, my whatever. ‘Hi, I’m Barry and I’m a bear.’ You know, like that. Do I have to affirm a higher power or something?”
“Barry, this is a three-course dinner, not a twelve-step program.”
“Right, right, but we have some magic to get through. Just look at me—it’s going to have to be pretty potent stuff, too.”
“Barry, what we need to get through right now is dinner. There’s plenty of time for the magic to happen. Now, eat your shrimp cocktail and tell me about yourself. Wine? Tell me how you and Stephen met each other. It had something to do with a bowling ball, didn’t it?”
Barry stopped mid-munch, shrimp in hand. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Trust me, Barry, or else it will be a long and unproductive evening.”
Barry didn’t see how it was going to help, but he shrugged his shoulders and returned to munching his shrimp.
“That was years ago now. We were much younger then.”
“I think we all were, Barry.”
“Right. And skinnier of course—at least I was. Up until a few days ago, in fact, I could still fit into my college graduation suit, not that I wanted to. Anyway, as a lark, some friends and I decided to go bowling one night. In the next lane there was this group of guys with beards—come to think of it, they looked a lot like I do now—having some sort of bowling tournament.”
“Actually,” Stephen added quietly, “it was the Bears’ Night Out Bowling League.”
“Right. Whatever. Anyway, we’d already played a couple of games and had a few beers and my game was getting worse and worse, and it hadn’t been that good to start with.
“So it was my turn. As it happened, it was also Stephen’s turn in the next lane, and we were doing our windup together. He was definitely the cutest one there—you would not believe how hot he looked in his bowling shirt. And he was so sexy when he dried his hand off over that little air-blower thingie. How was I supposed to concentrate on bowling with this hunk flexing his arms right next to me? He was a step ahead of me, but we let go of our balls at the same time, if you’ll pardon the expression. Anyway, it wasn’t exactly my best throw of the evening. My ball sort of bounced over the gutter into Stephen’s lane. It hit his ball and knocked it into the gutter, and then my ball rolled down the alley and made a strike. I was horrified, naturally. I mean, here was this hunk I wouldn’t at all mind getting to know better, and I was sure I had made a horrible first impression. I hadn’t even started and already it was a disaster.”
Onslo set aside the cocktail glasses and passed the platter of roast beef and asparagus spears.
Stephen took a generous helping of each. “Barry was quite adorable, actually. You should have seen the look on his face! The way he clapped his hands over his mouth and kind of squatted and squealed was quite endearing.”
“Endearing! More like a little princess seeing a mouse, I’d say. I just wanted to sink into the floor, I was so embarrassed.”
“Fortunately it took us some time to figure out who got what for a score in that frame because I couldn’t take my eyes off Barry. There was this irresistible impish humor in his eyes. Sometimes I think he did the whole thing on purpose.”
“Like I could do that with a bowling ball in a thousand years if I wanted to. I still blame it all on your lovely ass anyway.”
Stephen’s eyes started to look a little misty. “Well, we had a beer together, and then we got to talking, and then the bowling alley closed and we went to a café for some coffee and one thing led to another and I followed Barry home and pretty much never left.”
Barry waved an asparagus spear at Onslo. “Believe it or not, we didn’t even have sex that first night! We talked until the sun started coming up then fell asleep on the couch in each others’ arms.”
“Very chaste, our first date.”
“Well, as I remember it, we did kiss some….”
“We kissed a lot, as I remember it.”
“…and I woke up with beard burn.”
Stephen touched his cheek at the memory. “Oddly, I was the one with the beard back then. I shaved it off soon enough, though.”
Now Barry’s eyes were looking a little misty. “It was his big sacrifice for me—heaven knows why he did it.”
“For love, Barry. Because I loved you then the way I still love you now, the way I have loved you every day since we met.”
Suddenly the sound of the fire crackling was the loudest thing in the room. Onslo stood and cleared away the dinner plates and served dessert: generous portions of chocolate mousse.
As he sat back down, Onslo said, “Barry, I think Stephen has something important for you to hear now.”
Stephen collected his thoughts—and his courage—for a few moments before he began. “Barry, you remember that group of guys I was with the night we met? The ones with the beards?”
“You mean the bears? Sure. Kind of, but only vaguely.”
“Well, those were the kind of guys I usually found attractive. I still do, to be honest.”
“Bears? Really! But then why in the world…?”
“Because, sweetie, it was you. I fell in love with you and what was inside. How you looked didn’t make one bit of difference to me—and it still doesn’t, although I can’t say I object to a little more meat on your bones and lots more hair on your body. I just knew then that I wanted to spend my life with you. I still do.”
It was turning out to be a great evening for noisy, crackly fire sounds. Barry rarely found himself at a loss for words, but feelings of tenderness for Stephen overwhelmed him and robbed him of words. He didn’t want to start crying in front of Mr. Bigpaw, but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself.
Without warning Bigpaw plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “If you’ll excuse me, please, this seems to be an emergency.”
Bigpaw put the phone to his ear. “This is Onslo Bigpaw… Bjornsson, yes, and your partner is having a crisis… I understand. This situation requires immediate attention. I am on my way now.” Bigpaw ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket.
“Gentlemen, I apologize for my rude behavior, but I must tend to this matter with some urgency and I don’t know when I shall return. However, we mustn’t let this disrupt our important endeavors this evening nor the progress that we are making. Please enjoy the remainder of your dessert and make yourselves at home. Now I must dash, but I shall certainly see you in the morning.”
Onslo pushed his chair back from the table and got up, silently replacing the chair before he strode across the room. The door opened and closed without a sound, and Stephen and Barry found themselves alone with just the fire and its crackly noises for company.
Feeling no real need for words, Barry and Stephen lingered over each remaining bite of their chocolate mousse, occasionally glancing at each other with loving but slightly embarrassed looks. At one point Stephen put his hand over Barry’s hand where it was lying on the table. Barry responded by pressing his knees against Stephen’s knees under the table.
Satisfied in their bellies and aglow with loving warmth—assisted by the fire and the rest of the wine—they were feeling amorous and a little giddy. Stephen watched the reflection of the candlelight dance in Barry’s eyes and started to feel rather sentimental, too.
“Barry, you look particularly alluring tonight.”
“Even looking the way I do now?”
“Especially looking the way you do now. Barry, the simple truth is—and I’m very sure of this—I fell in love once with you and not your body, and I still love what’s on the inside, although I will admit that now you’ve got some meat on your bones and some hair on your back I might enjoy the sex even more.”
Barry might have gasped in astonishment, but instead he giggled. “To think that all this time you’ve been a secret bear lover and I never knew it.” He shook his head, but grinned while he did.
Neither confirming nor denying—but giving a pretty good indication—Stephen got up and walked around the table. He lifted Barry’s head with a gentle tug on his beard and gave him a big kiss. Barry groaned his surprise, rising from his chair without even thinking. Lips locked, they moved awkwardly toward the futon, tearing off each other’s clothes as they went.
Barry took a breath. “But what if Mr. Bigpaw should return?”
“I think this was part of the plan. After all, he said to make ourselves at home, and he did leave the futon.”
Barry acquiesced and they fell together onto the futon, kissing, caressing, stroking, and groping. Stephen was delighted to discover how many new curves and surfaces he found to explore on Barry’s newly expanded body. Barry was delighted to discover an abundance of enjoyable new sensations as Stephen explored.
Stephen was surprised to find that a certain amount of beard burn around his lips was quite pleasurable. Barry made his own discoveries. Who knew that a tongue liberally applied to a newly hairy earlobe could produce such hair-raising tingles? The layer of hair on his skin seemed to heighten Barry’s sensations wherever Stephen touched him. The multiplication of Barry’s surface area tempted Stephen into further acts of licking, kissing, and even occasional biting.
Stephen was overwhelmed, faced with an all-you-can-feel buffet and too few hands to do it justice. Still, he did what he could.
Anxious to feel the full effect of Barry’s additional weight, Stephen maneuvered onto his back and pulled Barry on top of him. What a treat! Instead of Barry merely lying on him as before, now Stephen felt engulfed, pressed down by Barry with a feeling of secure contentment and serene confinement, totally enclosed and protected.
Their hard dicks were pressed between Stephen’s taut stomach and Barry’s plush belly, trapped together in a warm and inviting place. Barry and Stephen accepted the invitation and started moving their hips in a rhythm synchronized so that their dicks rubbed in concert. Accompanied by kissing, still passionate of tongue if somewhat less feverish, the sensations seemed to them both beyond any that they had known before.
Barry and Stephen were rediscovering sensuous enjoyment that they hadn’t shared for several years. Barry’s inexplicable physical transformation changed both their perspectives, making all their intimacies as fresh as though discovered for the first time.
As their dicks slid together between their bellies, Stephen turned Barry’s head so he could lick Barry’s ear and whisper his request. “Would you fuck me now?”
“Nothing would please me more,” Barry whispered back, “provided I can.”
“I’m sure you remember how—it hasn’t been all that long. Pretend I’m a bicycle.”
“I didn’t mean that! I only meant that there are different physical realities to contend with.”
“Like what? You’ve still got a dick and I’ve still got an asshole. How difficult can it be?”
In response, Barry bit Stephen’s earlobe.
“Do that again,” Stephen warned, “and I might start to like it.”
“Okay, I’m up for trying.” Barry started pushing himself up onto his knees. “Do you want to roll over?”
“No, I want this face-to-face so I get the whole Barry Bear effect.”
Barry thought momentarily about slapping the silly grin off Stephen’s face, but decided that Stephen might enjoy it too much. Instead he concentrated on the task at hand. His dick was already slick with precum; nevertheless, he spit onto this right hand and added to its wetness. With the same hand he guided his dick down until he felt the pucker of Stephen’s asshole, where he rested the head of his dick.
Barry leaned forward a bit, requesting entry. He felt Stephen’s sphincter start to relax. He then put his full weight into it and his dick slid effortlessly into Stephen. Stephen’s deep breathing and satisfied sigh was a welcoming sign.
Athletic virtuosity was not the mood of the moment. Quite the contrary: Barry moved his hips only slightly, but the small motions of his dick seemed enough to excite Stephen to unfamiliar levels of ecstasy. Stephen’s groans, moans, and other incoherent vocalizations certainly surpassed any previous records in volume.
What was working well for Stephen was also working well for Barry. His dick seemed to amplify the smallest stimulation to incredible heights. Stephen’s evident enjoyment only enhanced the effect.
Stephen came—explosively. This was the first time that Barry had made Stephen come solely by fucking him. With each thrust, another load from Stephen’s dick spread hot and sticky into the spaces between their bellies now so tightly pressed together. Taken by surprise at the vigor of Stephen’s orgasm, Barry himself then shot copious loads of cum inside Stephen, another treat they had not shared in some years.
They both found the entire experience overwhelming, and so they simply lay together, still coupled but silent, for many more minutes, feeling the heat from the fireplace on their sides, the heat from each other in between them.
At long last, Barry rolled off, spooning Stephen tight up against his new bear body.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Exhausted and contented, they slept.
They awoke slowly, probably hearing the distant clattering in the kitchen as Mr. Bigpaw set about preparing breakfast. They were in no hurry to wake up fully, preferring to lie close together and relish their fresh memories from the night before.
Stephen asked, “Barry, honey, could you scratch my back?”
Without a thought, Barry reached toward Stephen’s back. Suddenly he was wide awake.
“Uh-oh.”
“What uh-oh?” Stephen asked.
“Still smooth,” Barry said.
“Of course I am. What did you expect?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I thought Mr. Bigpaw might do some magic and turn you into a bear, too. But I guess there was no magic.”
“There was magic all right, Barry. This morning you know for certain that I love you just the way you are and that I always will.”
“That’s true….”
“But…?”
Barry adopted an expression of mock seriousness. “But we still can’t share clothes!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Think of it instead as doubling our shopping opportunities. Besides, we could look quite cute in one of those Daddy-and-son outfits, don’t you think?”
Barry gasped and slapped Stephen’s butt in retaliation for the remark. Stephen enjoyed this so much that he gleefully started tickling Barry, who quickly dissolved in giggles. Soon it became evident that it would be some time yet before they were ready to join Mr. Bigpaw for breakfast.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
SHANE ALLISON has been called a fag, a nigger, and a genius. He is the author of five chapbooks of poetry and his sixth, Hobos and Trashy Transvestites is forthcoming. His poems and stories have graced the pages of Best Gay Erotica 2007 and 2008, Ultimate Gay Erotica 2006, 2007, and 2008, Redneck Review, Spork, McSweeney’s, Velvet Mafia, Suspect Thoughts and many others. He is seeking a publisher for his first volume of poetry, Robert Mapplethorpe’s Fist. He is the editor of Hot Cops: Gay Erotic Stories and Backdraft: Fireman Erotica. Drop him a line or two at starsissy42@hotmail.com.
DALE CHASE has been writing male erotica for a decade with more than a hundred stories published in various magazines and anthologies, including translation into Italian and German. Her single literary story appeared in the Harrington Gay Men’s Fiction Quarterly. A California native, she lives near San Francisco and is at work on an erotic western novel and a collection of ghostly erotica. In a former life she wrote fiction for motorcycle magazines.
HANK EDWARDS’ humorous erotic novel, Fluffers, Inc., is available from Alyson Publications. More than three dozen of his stories have appeared in various gay erotic magazines, including Men, 100% Beef, and Honcho, as well as a number of anthologies and the website Clean Sheets. He lives in a suburb of Detroit with his partner of many years and their two cats. Visit his website at www.hankedwardsbooks.com.
JUDE GRAY is a good ol’ boy from a tiny town in Texas. He lives on a small piece of land with his partner of many years and their three dogs. To earn his keep, Jude works at a local hardware store where he enjoys stocking tools and taking smoke breaks.
DOUG HARRISON’s writing appears in Still Doing It, Men Seeking Men, Applied Optics, Best Gay Erotica 2001, Tough Guys, Bad Boys, Optica Acta, Bearotica, Kink, Sex Buddies, Journal of Luminescence, Hot Gay Erotica, Best S/M Erotica, Guilty Pleasures, a few patents, and several upcoming erotic anthologies. His online memoir, In Pursuit of Ecstasy, appears in The Shadow Sacrament: a journal of sex and spirituality (http://www.shadowsacrament.com/contents_2.1.htm). Doug was active in San Francisco’s leather scene, the Modern Primitives movement, and the San Francisco Wagner Society. He appears in videos, photo shoots, and an AIDS Emergency Fund’s Bare Chest Calendar. He is a member of the Chicago Hellfire Club. He has an ex-wife, two children, a grandchild, a tomcat, and a domestic partner of twelve years, Bill Brent, with whom he lives in Hawaii. Find him at pumadoug@hawaii.rr.com.
DANIEL W. KELLY is the author of the erotic horror collection Closet Monsters: Zombied Out and Tales of Gothrotica. His short stories have appeared in the anthologies Manhandled, Dorm Porn, and Just the Sex. His story “Woof!,” featured in Closet Monsters, won first place in the erotic writing competition at bookpuppy.co.uk in January 2006. He is also a staff writer for Sexherald.com.
MICHAEL LASSELL is a Lambda Award-winning poet and the author/editor of a dozen books of poems, stories, and essays, as well as a noted gay eroticist of the 1990s, now living in a platonic relationship with an appropriately overweight and spoiled dachshund rescue named Schuyler (the big apple of his New York City life). He is the features editor of Metropolitan Home magazine and has written a series of books on the making of Disney’s Broadway shows, including Elton John and Tim Rice’s Aida, Tarzan, Mary Poppins (with Brian Sibley), and The Little Mermaid.
