Oregon Bear 9

California gay marriage ban opinion

2012-02-07T18:46:00.000-08:00

Here's the text of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals' decision on February 7, 2012 holding the repeal of gay marriage in California a violation of Due Process and Equal Protection under the Fourteenth Amendment to the US Constitution.

http://documents.latimes.com/proposition-8-gay-marriage-unconstitutional/

the beard curse

2012-01-23T18:38:00.001-08:00

A Dark and Stormy Night

2012-01-12T22:56:00.000-08:00

We met at the little cafe at the center of the village, just after dawn on that dark winter’s day. We’d talked a lot on the phone and collaborated together on the grant proposal and the survey we had wanted to do on the sand spit between the ocean and the bay.

Tim and I had met each other about ten years ago at a conference, yet our respect for each other’s expertise in the field had been established several years before that, as we had read each other’s research papers, and then began commenting on our respective papers and research.

Still, this was the first time we were actually going to work together in the field, surveying the bird life, gathering the data we needed to carry out the grant proposal that had finally been funded last month. We had a number of hypotheses and needed to get the field research done in order to do the statistics, the analysis, and the writing of the three papers that would come out of the grant and all of our work.

I found Tim in the back booth, coffee mug in hand, and a day pack, rain coat, and a worn pair of binoculars sitting on the scarred, wooden table. The waitress caught my eye and I just nodded. Coffee at this time of the morning was just a given, especially as the latest squall of sideways rain and wind rattled the door of the cafe. The latest gust of wind off the ocean tried to break the door off of its hinges, so I leaned into it with my shoulder, shoving the door shut against the storm moving fast off the coast, pushing hard against the mountains.

January. That said it all. The height of the winter storm season. We didn’t get snow this low and being next to the beach, well, except for a couple of days when the Arctic blast moved south of Seattle and swirled around a front just west of the beach, the few times when the beach turned white with snow and the pass to Portland turned into a sheet of ice.

This one, though, was warm enough that all that moisture just fell as rain, raising the river levels a couple of feet in a few hours, and driving even the hardiest fishermen off the ocean and into a snug harbor, where there was cold beer and good conversation in all of the local bars.

Tim and I, though, were the exception. Everyone else would be hunkering down in their houses, or hanging out at the cafes most of the day, sipping coffee and telling stories, or finding an excuse to mosey on home and spend the afternoon making love and getting drunk on the lower half of a bottle of hooch.

We were the mad scientists, though, and this weather was actually part of the research we needed to do, to study wildlife and how all the birds handled sideways rain and the occasional gust of 70 mph winds.

We’d come to like each other a lot over the last couple of years. We had the same scientific mind, and often exchanged long e mails critiquing each other’s research and journal articles, and sending each other our recent favorites we’d found from other experts in our field. Tim had a sharp mind, and a wry sense of humor, and he’d begun sharing his dry assessment of our less astute and egg-headed colleagues.

Tim kept his personal life pretty well under wraps, though, and he had just recently told me that he was single, and wasn’t tied down to any family obligations. I’m a pretty private guy myself, and my last lover moved out last summer, leaving me a bit lonely, yet relieved at being done with a dead love life with someone who’d been cheating on me. At least he’d had the decency to leave me with a few bottles of single malt as a good bye.

We’d rented a cabin for the two weeks, just out of town. It had a wood stove, and a big living room overlooking the bay, a perfect place for us to spread out our paperwork and collaborate on the research project. We had two weeks here, just the two of us. Plenty of time to tramp around the sand spit, the ocean beach, and the mud flats along the bay, making our observations, and doing the leg work we needed.

The evenings and the days when the wind howled the loudest would find us working together next to the woodstove, our laptops and notebooks, and the dozen reference books I’d boxed up, strewn around the big planked table in the center of the room. Some of the folks at the university felt sorry for me, having to spend two weeks in the dead of winter, trudging through the storms and sand, spending my time in a dead little fishing town.

Me, I thought it was heaven. The work was a pleasure, and I loved the feel of the ocean spray against my face, the wind and salt spray whipping through my beard, and working with a guy who had a gifted brain and a great sense of humor about our work, and about life. Besides, we both liked the same brand of Scotch, and we’d been e-mailing our thoughts about how much Scotch it would take to make it through the project. Research materials, we called it.

After we’d drained the first mug of coffee, the waitress returned with a fresh pot, and we ordered breakfast. No sense rushing off to the sand spit, without a full belly and not enough coffee. Besides, the storm was getting a bit stronger, and any bird in his right mind would be hunkered down in the brush until the winds eased off a bit.

We caught up on the details of our prep work, and planned out our two weeks. It was like a vacation for both of us. No meetings, no conference calls, not even any e mails. We’d made sure that our staffs thought that we were going to be in the boonies and didn’t have internet service at the cabin. That wasn’t true, but we weren’t going to enlighten them. We both needed a break in the routine of our lives, and the ability to really get away and do some real work for a change.

After the waitress took away our now empty plates, the storm calmed a bit, and you could actually see more than a hundred yards down the beach. It was time to take our first hike down the spit, and start our research.

Tim grinned at the thought, his smile splitting his newly bearded face. He’d worn a moustache during the last few years, but now, he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days and the stubble across his chin and across his jaw and cheeks was a nice salt and pepper of thickening stubble.

“Thought I’d give it a try,” he said, when I mentioned his start of a beard. “I like how your beard looks, and well, we have two weeks. Didn’t think you’d mind being around me, all stubble faced and scraggly.”

“Not at all, Tim,” I replied. “I like beards. I’ve had mine since my college days. They come in handy during winter storms, too. Keeps my face a bit warmer,” I chuckled.

Tim laughed, too, his laugh resonating deep in his thick chest and his belly.

I couldn’t help but taking a good look at him, this morning, as he drained the last gulp of java out of his mug. Below the salt and pepper whiskers that were starting to thicken across his jaw and chin, and down to his Adam’s apple, there was a nice thicket of chest hair poking out of the top of his thermal undershirt and his plaid flannel shirt. My lust wondered a bit about how thick his fur was across his broad chest, and if there was a nice thick trail of fur leading down to his crotch.

My cock swelled a bit at the thought, my mind now wondering if his cock was cut or not, and if Tim’s chest hair was more gray than black, and how sensitive his nipples were to a bit of tonguing and tugging.

We’d never really talked much about our sexual preferences. Tim was pretty quiet about his past lovers, and I wasn’t really sure if he was straight or gay. About a year ago, I’d mentioned to Tim that I was gay, and he didn’t seem to get excited about that, like a lot of people I know.

Not that I was looking. My last lover had left me with a pretty open wound in my heart, and I was feeling that I was just now starting to feel I could move on a bit, and maybe even think about dating. Not that there was a long line waiting to ask me out. Still, if someone wanted to pick me up sometime, I’d probably say yes, just to be able to feel I was alive again. My cock always seemed to not be able to refuse a good blow job, or an evening greased up and sliding into a wet hole between a nice set of hard butt cheeks.

We drained the coffee from our bladders in the bathroom, paid the waitress at the register, and headed off down to the parking lot at the base of the spit. Our rigs were loaded with our gear for the trip, as well as the food we’d bought for two weeks at the cabin. Except for the breakfasts at the cafe, eating out was pretty hit and miss around here. Besides, Tim said he likes to cook and dinner would be his specialty for the time we were here. That fit in well with our desire to experiment with Scotch.

The day passed quickly, as we hiked down to the end of the spit, four miles in soft, wet sand. We ate our lunch of granola bars and jerky overlooking the mouth of the bay, and then headed back on the bay side, finding the deer trails through the marsh grass, brush, and scrubby beach pines, until we hit the parking lot about half an hour before dusk.

The rain had turned to showers, but we were a sodden mess by the time we reached our pickups, what with the rain, tramping through the wet brush and trees, and working up a good sweat. We’d taken turns leading on our hike, and I’d found myself admiring Tim’s tight butt through his rain pants, thinking about all that hair and sweat in his crotch, my cock swelling a bit with my fantasies of getting to know Tim a whole lot better.

I didn’t have these thoughts a few months ago, when we’d stayed at the cabin for a long weekend, hammering out the final draft of our grant application, and doing a bit of field work, as part of the application. Tim had shown off his culinary skills and we’d had a good talk about our lives, as we had worked on a bottle of Scotch and sat in the hot tub out on the deck. Tim played his guitar a bit and sang some mournful and lonely country songs. They were the songs I’d wanted to hear and sing, too, so we had had a good time together.

As the light dimmed, and the western sky turned red, warning of yet another front ready to roll through during the night, we stowed our day packs and binoculars and notebooks, and caravanned to the cabin, with promises of a good stiff drink, a dip in the hot tub, and dry clothes.

In a few minutes, we had unloaded all of our gear, and the supplies for our two weeks in our cabin. It was time to unwind and warm up.

I started a fire in the woodstove, as Tim mixed our drinks. As I shut the cast iron door after the fire got going, I looked over to Tim, busy stripping off his shirt and undershirt, exposing his deeply furred chest and belly. Pinkish nipples poked through thick tufts of fur swirling around his areoles and the thicker pelt in the center of his chest. The smell of his day’s sweat wafted through the cabin, his armpits musky and dank, the damp hair glinting in the fading light of the day.

He slid his belt open and dropped his pants and shorts, tossing them across the couch, his cock dancing a bit in the midst of a thick patch of fur, his large balls dangling underneath his uncut meat.

“Time’s a wasting, my friend,” Tim chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about the hot tub all day.”

It didn’t take me long to join in Tim’s choice of dress for the hot tub, and in two minutes, we were neck deep and bare assed in the hot tub, our tumblers of Scotch and soda lined up on the deck, close at hand.

It was pitch black outside, the only lights being the occasional flash of the lighthouse beacon about eight miles up the coast, its white beam barely lighting up a few of the low clouds that were moving in. A dim light shined out of the living room, giving me enough light to see the glint of the drops of water in Tim’s stubbly face, after he had sunk under water for a bit, when he first got in. I’d been able to catch his bare ass cheeks and his large, furry ball sack in the light, before he slid into the tub, ahead of me. My cock, despite the long day, swelled a bit at the sight of all that furry muscle and hairy balls, needing to be cupped and played with a bit, in my hot, horny hands.

Soon, we were soaking up the heat of the water, and the heat of the first few sips of Scotch that hit our empty bellies. Our tired leg and back muscles relaxed a bit in the heat and the massage of the water jets, chasing away the chill of the long day’s hike.

“Two weeks of this. Hope we can take it,” Tim chuckled. “No meetings, no phones, no obligations, except hiking the spit and taking notes.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “This is the life.”

We sat there in the silence, letting the heat penetrate every muscle and feeling the Scotch unwind whatever tensions of our work life back in the city had remained.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you a lot better in the next two weeks,” Tim said, his voice quiet against the roar of the surf crashing into the base of the cliff. “We work together well, but, well, I’d like to be real friends.”

I nodded, his words catching me off guard. I wasn’t expecting him to go so deep, and to tell me what he’s wanting. Men don’t do that, I thought. At least not in this profession. We are supposed to keep it on a professional, scientific level. Real friendship in academia and research is pretty rare. At least for me. I really hadn’t found anyone in our work who I could call a real friend.

We talked then, a lot, about what friends are, and how hard it is to have real friendships. And, how lonely we’d both been, over the years, as we worked our way up in the academic hierarchies, maneuvering through the politics and intrigues, and rivalries that seem to be inherent in our world.

Perhaps the Scotch helped, and when we’d finished the second round, Tim began to tell me about his love life, his marriage to his high school sweetheart, their divorce, and his struggle to start dating, in his mid thirties.

He asked me about what it was like to be gay, and work as a gay man in a university where people claimed to be liberal and open minded, yet were quick to condemn and ostracize a person for their sexuality, for their vulnerability. We’d both seen fellow professionals open up, to be frank about their vulnerabilities, their experiences in life, their wisdom, only to see the vultures circle and rip out their hearts.

Real men didn’t talk about their weaknesses, their doubts, their real desires. At least, that was the lesson that kept getting taught, again and again, in our institutions of inquisitiveness, of higher learning.

He wondered about how a gay man makes love, how they love another man. In the near darkness of the evening, and being bare assed naked sitting on the edge of the hot tub, steam rising off of our backs and furry chests, and furry faces, we talked about love, and sex, and being a lover. And, what we really wanted in love.

It wasn’t all about the touching, the orgasms. It was deeper, wanting our real self to be honored, to be celebrated. To be trusted, and supported, as each of us could take the time to really see who we are, and who we wanted to become in our lives. And, to not be afraid to take that journey, or go it alone along that path.

I told him of the sadness and drama of breaking off a dead relationship, and how that had made me a bitter, and too private of a guy, hiding myself from some opportunities, well most opportunities for finding love in my life, and really finding out who I am inside.

Tim spoke, too, of loves lost, and loves that turned into sharp spears thrust into his chest, when he was most vulnerable, and most in need of just being loved for who he was.

Warm now, we toweled off and went back inside, the woodstove doing its job to heat up the cabin. Our conversation had lowered the barriers quite a bit between us. We’d talk about anything now, our friendship and our trust for each other gone to a new, deeper level. I slipped on a pair of sweat pants, dropping my towel and catching Tim take a long glance at my cock. He slipped on a pair of sweats, too, and, like me, didn’t reach for a shirt -- enough clothing for us now.

Tim’s muscular chest and well developed arms kept my eyes entertained, the fur around his nipples and the long happy trail down his belly keeping me interested in getting to know him a lot better on this trip.

Tim started cooking dinner, his strong biceps and thick, muscular chest moving around the kitchen with a comfortable ease. Soon, the smell of broiled salmon, and home fries and onions filled the cabin, as I tossed up a salad and opened a bottle of Pinot Gris.

Our hot tub confessions had moved our friendship down the road, and our conversation lightened up a bit, with stories of lust and sex, and embarrassing moments with lovers. We laughed about dates gone awry and embarrassing moments in the heat of passion.

The wind picked up strength after dinner, rattling the windows and whistling down the stove pipe. I added a few more chunks of wood, keeping the living room nice and toasty. The lights flickered a bit, then went out, and I lit a kerosene lamp on the coffee table, giving the room a nice golden light, which picked up the soft black and gray curls that splayed across Tim’s bare chest.

I asked Tim if he’d ever made love with another man. What the heck. It’s where this conversation is headed, anyway. And, it seemed like he wanted to talk about that.

“Well, one time, in college, after a lot of drinking one night. There was a guy in my dorm, and he took me to his room. We fooled around a bit, but I was too drunk to really get it up,” he said, blushing a bit and looking out the window into the ink black night.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

There was a pause. The wind was blowing the rain against the window overlooking the ocean, and the wood stove cracked and popped a bit. Probably time to throw another piece of wood on the fire.

“Yeah, I did,” Tim said. “I’d always wanted to do something like that, to try it out.”

We talked about Tim growing up in a church where gay sex and even sex outside of marriage was looked at as mortal, eternal damnation sin. Yet, several of the elders of the church cheated on their wives and one minister was obviously bisexual. Young women who became pregnant before marriage were unceremoniously kicked out of the church, even though the story of the Immaculate Conception and Mary being an unwed mother was a big part of the annual Christmas pageant at Sunday School.

All that contradiction and hypocrisy drove Tim out of his family’s church, despite the family and peer pressure to go to teen night and all the other church functions, the center of social life in a small town for most teenagers.

Tim told me of his dating in high school, losing his virginity in the back seat of his dad’s car after the homecoming game. Other kids thought he was a big stud, and he ended up putting more than a few notches in his belt before he finished high school and went off to college.

Still, he liked guys, too, and sometimes got a hard on in the locker room, or watching a porno with the guys at college, fantasizing a bit about the studs in the movies, and wondering what it would be like to be bedded by the porno studs, or a famous actor.

All that brought a lot of shame and guilt into his life, making him doubt who he was, and how big of a sinner he really was.

After his marriage failed, Tim tried to get back into the dating scene, but his heart really wasn’t into it. After ten years of marital strife, and his wife’s repeated affairs, the last one with another professor in his department, Tim’s heart wasn’t quite into going back to his role as the campus stud, or a guy who was going to play the field.

“How do you deal with all the guilt and shame bullshit that’s out there?” he asked. “I mean, is it just as screwed up for a gay guy as it is for a straight guy, with all the dating games and crap out there?”

I nodded, agreeing with him that other people put a lot of pressure on a guy to be the macho stud, yet be the monogamous, hard working provider for the family.

“I don’t have all the answers, either, Tim,” I said. “But, I’m old enough now to not really give a hoot about what other people think I should be doing in bed, or who I’m doing it with.”

“Besides, it’s really not anyone’s business who I sleep with, or what gets me off, when I’m with someone.”

Tim nodded, agreeing with my to the point view of politicians and gossipers and people who spend a lot of time passing judgement on someone else’s sex life.

“We’re scientists, Tim, and sex is as much about biology as anything in our lives. It’s a basic part of who we are. Our hormones, and our basic drive to find intimacy and be sexual with someone is just basic biology. We really are living to have sex with each other. It’s about as primal as you can get,” I added.

“So, any money I spend on my sex life is really professional development?” Tim joked. “I need to tell that to my accountant.”

We both laughed, enjoying each other’s company, and our ability to bring any discussion back to our work.

“So, maybe I can ask you to be part of my experiment,” Tim asked, his voice dropping to just barely a whisper.

“And, what would that be, Mr. Professor?” I asked, noticing Tim fidgeting with the string on his sweat pants.

“I’d like you, uh, I’d like you to make love to me, so I can figure all this sex stuff out. I want to know who I really am, and what I’m attracted to,” Tim said. “And, I trust you, Mike. I know you’ll help me out with all this.”

I nodded, tears clouding my eyes, my heart reaching out to this half naked guy who’s just ripped open his chest and handed me his beating heart. I’d never had someone put all their emotions in my hands before, and ask me to be a real lover to them. My lust had been running at a good pitch tonight, but Tim’s request was deeper, more soulful.

I wiped away the tear that had spilled out of my eye, catching in my beard. I choked a bit, my throat tight with the feelings Tim had stirred up in me, feelings of trust, and openness, and compassion.

“Yes. Yes, I would. And, that’s going to be something new for me, too, Tim,” I said, as another tear, a tear of gratitude, and humility, and trust, ran down my cheek.

“This storm sounds like it’s going to go all night and half way into tomorrow. That pretty much cancels out our field work, so we better plan on working this experiment the rest of the evening and all day tomorrow,” I chuckled.

Tim joined in, taking in a deep breath, filling his hard chest with air and letting it out, laughing and chuckling with me.

“We’re scientists, right?” he said. “So, we better make sure we explore all the variables.”

I took Tim in my arms, pulling him off the couch in front of the wood stove, feeling the strength in his bare shoulders, my hands feeling the tightness underneath the light fur that covered his shoulders, his musky nervous sweat in his armpits filling my nose with his odor.

My own armpits were wet, too, with lust, and with excitement, and nerves.

“What if I screw this up”, I thought. “What if this turns out to be a really bad one night stand, and we still have to work with each other here for two more weeks. What if...?”

Tim’s lips pushing into my moustache, and on my own lips interrupted my thought, his hand running down my bare chest, stroking the curly hair, and finding a nipple to caress. He closed in on me, his groin pushed tight against the cotton fleece of my sweat pants, his hardening cock warm and stiff against my own cock.

His other hand moved tight against my neck, running down my back, pulling me even tighter against him, until our chest hair pressed tight, until I could feel the dampness of his pecs, and the steady breath of his lungs, and the beat of his heart.

The room fell silent, except for the occasional wind gust and patter of rain against the window.

“Thanks,” Tim breathed into my ear, his stubbly beard and thick moustache intertwined with my beard, his nervous, lustful sweat strong in my nose.

We kissed then, and again. Tim’s tongue explored my moustache, my lips, and danced with my own tongue. I felt him grow harder, longer, against my own groin, feeling his hardness and my blood fire bring my own cock into life, my balls pulling up under my manhood, a bit of precum oozing out of my cock head, dampening my sweat pants.

Tim’s hand found the knot in my waistband, string and slowly tugged the knot open, until my pants slipped down across my butt, and hung on the end of my cock, now nearly erect, throbbing with my hot blood.

“Feel me, Tim,” I whispered, my breath warm against his stubbly jaw.

His hand reached down, gripping the shaft of my manhood, his warmth adding more fire to the lust that was building up in my balls, and the hot sweat now dripping down my ribs from my armpits.

My pants fell to the floor, the cool air of the cabin against the skin of my butt cheeks and my furry balls. I kicked the pants off my feet, until I stood against my lover, naked, ready for what he was going to do with me.

Tim kissed me again, our moustaches meshing together, my nose filled with the spicy musk of his sweat drenched armpits and the dampness of his chest. I reached down, feeling his hard cock and heavy balls beneath the fabric of his pants, and the damp spot on his pants soaked by what would be my first taste of his seed.

I slid down his naked chest and belly, and the soft cotton of his sweat pants, until my mouth found the outline of his hard cock pushing against the crotch of his pants. Hungrily, I took him into me, then, cloth and cock, his salty precum on my tongue, the heat of his loins against my nose and beard.

Slowly, I stroked him with my lips, my tongue, wetting him with my saliva, until most of his shaft was drenched with my lubrication. My hands grabbed onto his waistband, sliding his pants down his hard, muscled butt and around his hard manhood and his balls, nestled deep within the thick, musky fur of his groin, until he, too, was bare assed naked, and hard in my mouth.

I suckled him, then, slowly at first, taking my time playing the corona of his cock, the slippery foreskin, and then the hard veined shaft of his cock, until my lips and beard caught on the long, curly hairs of his ball sack.

Tim groaned, moaning my name, as I danced with him, playing my long version of my love song on his cock, cupping his balls with one hand, as the fingers on my other hand played the other part of my symphony on his hardening, aching nipples.

I pushed against the inside of one of his thighs, moving his legs farther apart, so I could cup and finger his balls, tugging them a bit, feeling his gonads rising higher, as he began rising to his climax, the first one of this stormy evening. His hard, hairy butt pushed harder against me, adding another rhythm to our dance, until he finally yelled, and the first long spurt of his seed filled my mouth, and dripped down my beard onto my now sweating chest.

We collapsed to the floor, in front of the woodstove, its heat adding to the fire that we had started a few minutes ago, me wordlessly fingering his now spent cock, and whispering his name.

The storm outside would rage for several days, yet would never equal the heights and surges inside our winter cabin retreat.

--Oregon Bear, 1/12/12

Joe the Plumber

2012-01-01T20:22:00.001-08:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult male to male gay sex. If you are offended by this, or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave.

Joe The Plumber

Joe and I finished wrapping up the insulation around the new water main coming in from the street. I had just finished shoveling the last of the dirt into our hastily dug ditch, after Joe has neatly spliced the new section of pipe to both ends of the old pipe.

I’d awakened early on this chilly January Saturday to the sound of water running outside the house, and discovered a small geyser next to the deck.

Not knowing crap about plumbing, I hurriedly called my friend, Joe, the plumber.

“Joe, I need a huge favor,” I said over the phone, explaining my crisis. We’d met when he came in last year for physical therapy. He’d thrown his back out and the doctor had prescribed six weeks of twice weekly stretching and massage.

We’d become friends during the therapy sessions and continued our friendship with an occasional fishing trip or a few beers at the neighborhood tavern while watching a game. I’d taken an instant liking to this huge, bearded hunk of a man. He was usually telling a joke or giving someone a hand.

I came up the steps to the deck, my boots still covered with mud, just as he was hosing off the deck, washing all of the debris into the flower bed. He had the hose in his huge, beefy hands and I needed to get him to rinse off my boots.

It had been a nasty couple of hours, as the old iron pipe had rusted out, and we had to dig back to more solid metal before Joe could put in the new patch. The weather had turned colder, a storm was moving in and the wind cut through my sweatshirt. In the last few minutes, it has started to rain, and now, I felt some hail spatter across the deck. It was about cold enough to snow.

As I reached the last step, I slipped and fell forward, catching myself at the last second. Joe heard me shout and turned towards me, still holding his nozzle and hose. I staggered on one foot and regained my balance, as the water gushed into me, full force, soaking me from head to toe.

Cold water streamed off my head, through my beard, and down my chest. The torrent ran down into my pants, drenching my cock and balls, and drained into my boots. I stood in a growing puddle on the deck.

I took one look at my now-drenched condition and started to laugh.

“Thanks, buddy, for the shower. I must have looked kinda dirty to you,” I laughed.

Joe began to laugh, too, his barrel chest shaking inside of his sweatshirt, as he looked over at my sodden condition. His sweatshirt arms bulged, trying to cover his massive biceps and shoulders. He was a bull of a man, and the sweatshirt hid his muscular torso and defined chest and abs.

Not wanting to be the only sodden creature on the deck, I reached over to the hose and wrestled the still-spurting nozzle out of his hands, and pointed the water cannon square at his chest, causing Joe to hoot and holler and let out a curse.

In no time at all, I had made him my almost-frozen equal, as we both chuckled at our predicament, both standing in an even larger puddle.

“I think we’re done, here, Tonto,” Joe said, as he reached over to turn off the faucet and reel up the hose. “Time to get inside and warm up.”

We splashed over to the door, and began to kick off our boots. Our now water-laden sweatshirts came next, followed by our T-shirts. Joe’s massive chest was soaked, his matt of black, curly hair still dripping water over his large reddish nipples. Ice water in his hair and beard still dripped onto his chest and onto the deck, as he flung his sweatshirt onto the pile of our boots.

“Leave the rest of these soaking wet clothes out here, too,” I said. “I don’t want to track up the house with all this mud and water.”

We both quickly stripped, piling up our clothes, as the wind gusted again, sending a second dousing of hail bouncing across the deck and our now naked shoulders.

Inside, I grabbed some towels from the bathroom, and we both mopped the ice water from our heads and our hairy bodies. I’d seen Joe’s chest and back during the physical therapy sessions, but I’d never seen his cock. Until now. He was a fine specimen of an athlete. His uncut cock dangled over a set of large, furry balls, and his cockroot was hidden by a large pelt of curly black hair, which grew up to his lean, rippled belly and then into his furry, defined chest.

Joe’s shoulders and chest were pink with the cold immersion we had just experienced, and he began to shiver slightly with the cold. His shoulders and arms prickled with gooseflesh.

“Lord, I’m cold,” Joe said, as he stamped his feet and began to rub his hands over his chest and shoulders. He rubbed his shoulders harder, and then, with a grimace, cried out.

“Ouch, oh, oh, damn,” he whimpered.

“Joe, what’s the matter,” I said.

“I think its my shoulder blade, again. I’ve got a spasm there, a big one.”

I’d worked on Joe’s shoulder a lot in our therapy sessions, and I knew he was vulnerable to cramps. And, he was vulnerable to another injury, especially when its cold.

Quickly, I began to rub and massage his massive shoulders and upper back. His skin was icy and his muscles were like cement. All the strength in my hands wouldn’t be enough to release the grip of the muscle spasm.

“We need to get you in the tub real quick. Come with me, Joe, and we’ll get this worked out,” I said, grabbing Joe’s hand and led him into the bathroom.

I started filling my large whirlpool tub, and I cranked the wall heater up. Joe stood there, bare-assed, his arms wrapped around his big chest, jumping up and down with cold, his now-icy cock dancing above his balls.

“Get in, Joe. We’ll let the water run some more, but you need to start warming up now. Sit in the bottom of the tub, and let the hot water get up onto your back and neck,” I said, as steam from the hot water tap started to cloud the mirror.

Joe stepped gingerly into the tub, as I steadied one arm. He moved one foot into the tub, and I gazed at his large cock and massive furry balls dangle and move with his hips and buttocks, as he put his feet into the rising water.

“Ahh, that feels good,” Joe said, as he sat down on the tub bottom, and laid back, his chest opening up, his reddish nipples stiff with the cold water shower. A bit of curly armpit hair peaked around the edge of his large, sculpted pecs.

“Sit right there, Joe,” I said. “I’ll be right back. I need to get something else for you.”

I walked out to the living room, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and two glasses, my bare ass parading through the house. I looked outside, and the rain and hail had turned to snow, and the deck was quickly disappearing into a sheet of white.

When I re-entered the bathroom, the water level had covered Joe’s chest, and was up to his furry chin. His cock lazily floated above his groin, just breaking the surface of the hot water. Steam had clouded the mirror, and the room was feeling warm and cozy.

I put the bottle and glasses next to the tub, and poured the yellow nectar into the glasses. Then, I walked back to the tub, squirted in a bit of bubblebath, and stepped into the tub next to Joe.

The hot water felt like heaven to me, and I hadn’t realized how cold I had been. The contrast from near frozen skin to penetrating heat on every square inch tingled my skin and relaxed every muscle in my body.

“I’m going to work out that cramp and massage that muscle, Joe. But, we need to let the heat do its magic first,” I said.

“in the meantime, you have other medicine to take,” I said, reaching over to the glasses, putting one into Joe’s meaty hand.

“Down the hatch, oh Master Plumber,” I said. “You’ve earned this drink.”

We both gulped down the golden liquid, which warmed, then burned my mouth, tongue, and stomach.

“Damn, that was nice,” Joe said. “I’ll take another shot, Doc.”

Happy to oblige my naked, well-equipped friend, I poured us both another round, which was also quickly dispatched. I reached over and turned off the water, which was now near the top of the tub. I moved one leg around Joe’s waist, so I was behind him, and able to work on his shoulders.

I began to work into his muscles, feeling the tension of his ropey back muscles, and the knot of stress underneath his shoulder blade. His muscles were large, well-defined, and still tan from the summer. My hands smoothly worked out the kinks in his back, and I moved up to his neck, easing more knots of tension.

Moving around to the front of his shoulders, I worked on those large muscles, drawing Joe back a bit, so that his back was against my hairy chest and belly. My hardening cock rubbed against his buttocks, as his lower back muscles touched my belly, and my balls and cock rubbed into his crack.

Joe squirmed a bit, as he moved back, closer to me, pushing me firmly against the tub.

“That feels real nice, Doc,” Joe said. “Could you work a bit lower?”

Joe grabbed one of my hands and moved it down onto his pec, rubbing my finger into his nipple. He didn’t have to encourage me anymore, as I began to finger his stiffening nip, and to caress the hairs of his chest.

Joe took my other hand and moved it down to his belly.

“Could you work out this stiffness, too, Doc?” Joe asked, as he moved my hand lower, into his thick pubes and onto his now-stiff manhood. He pushed my fingers onto his cockhead, and up against his shaft, gripping my hand as I began to grip his large, wide cock.

He leaned his head back against my shoulder, rubbing his beard against my neck, and sighed.

I kept up my therapy on Jim’s nipples and chest, as well as his ever-hardening and growing cock. I moved down to his balls, feeling their massive size in their nest of thick fur, and sensed their tightening, as Joe’s cock begged for release.

“Oh, yeah, Doc. Release that tension,” Joe moaned.

Joe’s hand explored my thighs, and moved up to grasp my cock, his rough, calloused hand rubbing gently against the silky skin of my own shaft, and the fur of my ball sack.

I reached over and turned on the jets for the tub, sending a swirl of hot water around our hairy bodies, turning the water and bubble bath suds into a mound of froth.

My hand moved faster and faster on Jim’s stiff manhood, as he began to thrash and push against me, his muscles clenching and his hands grasping my thighs. Joe’s breath grew ragged, irregular, and then he gasped and wheezed, his cock vibrating, shooting streams of cum out of the foam and against his chest.

Again and again, his cock pulsed and he shook, and then, he let out all of the air from his massive, bull chest, and opened his eyes.

I still grasped his slowly easing cock monster, and felt his balls drop back into his large, hairy seed sack.

“Feeling better, Joe?” I asked, running my thumb over his cockhead. Yet another spurt of cum flew out, and I rubbed the juice into his ball sack.

“Ya sure know how to warm a guy up, Doc.”

Santa's Party Favor

2011-12-21T07:11:00.000-08:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult gay male to male sex. If you are offended by this topic or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.

The annual office Christmas party was living up to my weak expectations. All the office bigwigs were there, and the kiss-ups, making sure they were noticed by all the executives. The phonies were dressed up in their Armani suits and Christmas ties, and the power bitches were displaying all of their bling and tight-fitting holiday cocktail dresses, showing off most of their artificially tanned, pushed up silicone boobs.

Everyone was getting drunk on the free booze, and stuffing themselves at the buffet table on shrimp, caviar and other overpriced food, or busy draining the chocolate fountain and cramming rich creamy pastries into their faces. It was the annual parade of trophy wives and chitchat about their last cruise or their latest gas-guzzling SUV.

The lavish display was especially sickening this year, given that the economy was in the tank, and the company had laid off a third of its manufacturing crews. Yet, the executives were still taking their stock options and pricey salaries, and all the suits were still getting their Christmas bonuses. I’d just finished crunching the numbers for the fourth quarter, and it was not a pretty sight.

When the band started playing the limbo and a line formed to see who could bare their cleavage the most as they leaned under the makeshift limbo bar, I realized I needed to get out of there, and take a walk, before I opened my big mouth and made a fool of myself.

I slipped out the side door and walked down the hall, until I found an empty conference room. The room was dark, blissfully quiet, and you could see the spectacle of the entire downtown lit up for the holidays. We were forty stories up, and everywhere I looked, I could see the tall columns of lights of the skyscrapers, and the various red and green holiday lights of the various condos and apartments in the city, as well as the Christmas boat parade on the river.

My mood brightened at the beauty of the scene, and I soon managed to forget about the phoniness and pretention of the annual office bash. I’d put in my appearance, and was noticed by my boss and his boss, so I’d paid my dues and could now make my quick exit. My partner was planning to go caroling around the neighborhood in a couple of hours, and I wanted to be home in time to join him and a few close friends for what always was a genuine holiday celebration. It would be quite the welcome contrast to the drunken social climbing office party scene.

Just as I was about ready to take my exit down the hall and into the elevator, I heard the door open, and then close, the lock turned with a click. I turned around to see Santa standing there, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye, and a hearty grin under the thick swirls of his beard.

“Merry Christmas, Tom,” Santa said, as he walked over to me, his belly secured under his big red suit, his beard flowing over his massive chest down to his shiny silver belt buckle. “I hear you’ve been a good boy this year.”

“Well, I have, Santa,” I replied, a bit taken aback at having this surprise visit with Santa. When I’d left the party, there were several Santas there, partaking of the booze and flirting with the most scantily clad wenches. This Santa certainly wasn’t one of the party goers.

“Then, Tom, it’s time for your present,” he said with a laugh, as he knelt down in front of me, his fingers quickly unzipping my suit pants, and pulling out my cock. Quick as a flash, Santa took my limp, surprised cock into his bearded mouth, and began to slowly, expertly suck and fondle me, running his tongue up and down my manhood, and lightly licking and encircling my cockhead with his tongue.

Santa’s big hand grasped my butt, and pulled my hips and groin close against Santa’s face, until his beard was pressed tightly against my unzipped pants, my now growing cock beginning to fill his mouth.

Stunned at this sudden and delightful attention, I grabbed onto St. Nick’s shoulders, feeling the thick wool of his red coat in my hands, as I steadied myself against this talented taking of my cock into what was proving to be a very expert blow job.

My lust began to rise, and my balls tightened, as my cock grew to its full height, my brain now filled with white lightning, until all I could think about was the slow, eager ravishing of my cock by this amazing, expert tongue and lips.

The pumping and stroking slowed a bit, allowing me to fill my lungs with a few gasps of air, as my back arched, and I thrust my hips forward, to fully fill Santa’s mouth with my now urgent need. Each stroke became a new experience, as he twisted and licked and sucked each area of my cock, without any repeated motions, setting my nerves on fire, my cum now gathering in my balls, ready to explode, yet, my cock not yet wanting to be done.

The white fur rim of Santa’s hat pounded against my shirt, my belly feeling the texture of the soft fur, as my balls now began to ache with their need to find their release, my shaft sliding exquisitely up and down in his hot, demanding mouth.

He cupped my balls, through the cloth on my pants, and I felt the heat and close touch of his palm and gentle fingers, as he coaxed me to my climax. The rhythm of his pounding and sucking increased, until I realized I could no longer hold myself back, but not wanting this pleasure to stop. Suddenly, he pushed me over the edge, and I felt as if a dam burst inside of me, releasing torrents of my jism out of my balls and through my hungry cock, jets of cum spurting quickly, achingly swift, into his hot, wet mouth, until I was drained, fully released, my breath now ragged and gasping.

I leaned against the window; my eyes closed in ecstatic joy, my cock still leaking cum, as I caught my breath. Slowly, my breath returned to me, and I began to open my eyes. Santa was opening the door, stepping into the hallway.

He turned to me, laughed, and waved, his belly shaking like a bowlful of jelly.

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Tom! ”

Closed for Christmas, parts 1 and 2

2011-12-14T07:31:00.000-08:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult gay male to male sex. If you are offended by this content, or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.

Closed for Christmas, Part 1

I pulled into the store on my way home, to pick up a few groceries before the holiday. I’d been stopping off at the store for the last several years, ever since I bought my place by the lake. I enjoyed the convenience of the store, but I’d also been enjoying the friendship of Jake, the owner. He was always friendly when I stopped by, poured me a mug of coffee and encouraged me to stay awhile, and chew the fat a bit.

In the winter, he always had the potbellied stove going, and he kept the coffee pot full, and not with the cheap stuff a lot of places used. He used real coffee, and ground the beans fresh every time he started a pot. I’m fussy about my coffee, and Jake’s great coffee kept me stopping by. He was a handsome man, who wore a full beard and a handlebar moustache, his shirts always bulging from his strong, beefy shoulders and thick, hairy chest. His good looks always stirred my cock every time I came in, my mouth wanting a cup of his good coffee, and my cock thinking about something a bit more, well, satisfying.

When I stopped by this morning for my traditional mug of coffee, Jake made it a point to invite me to stop by on my way home. Several other customers were there, too, so he didn’t have time to talk.

It was already dark by the time I pulled in, with skiffs of snow on the icy breeze coming off the mountains. The weather forecast was talking about a heavy snowfall tonight, and blizzard conditions for the next few days. The store lights were still on, but when I shut the door behind me, there was no sign of Jake.

“Hello, anyone here?” I called.

“Back here, Brad. I’m behind the reefer. The darn compressor went out an hour ago, and I can’t seem to get it running,” Jake replied.

I locked the door, flipped off the front lights, and the “open” sign, as it was past his closing time, anyway.

I followed his deep voice, finding him on his belly, half under the back of the walk-in cooler’s compressor; his jeans slid half way down his muscular butt on ground level. He had been there a while, a scattering of tools on the floor. I got a good look at his nearly naked butt cheeks, their white, hard globes dusted with curls of black hair. His shirt had ridden up almost to his arm pits, and I had a ring side view of his strong back muscles, rippling as he pulled on a wrench. The sight of all this hot, tempting skin made my cock twitch, my balls rising up a bit, as I felt an urge to run my hand all over his hot naked skin.

“Hand me that pipe wrench, Brad,” Jake said. “I think I’ve almost got it.”

My cock agreed, taking in the view of his half naked burly torso. Jake was a big man, and we’d had some good conversations about our love lives. We’d gotten to know each other well enough that we were able to talk about our preferences for men, but we hadn’t gotten any further than that. Jake was pretty quiet about his personal life, anyway.

I’d thought about getting together with Jake, and perhaps that’s part of the reason I stopped by tonight on my way home, this being the start of my Christmas holiday. I didn’t think Jake had anywhere to go for the holiday, and I thought I’d at least invite him over for Christmas dinner. I had a turkey to roast, and it didn’t make sense to cook it just for myself.

“There, I think that’s it. Done!” Jake announced. “Do me a favor and pull me out from under here.”

I grabbed Jake’s jeans around his legs and gave a big tug. But, all I got for my effort was a handful of cloth in my hands, as only his jeans came with me when I pulled. Now, his entire butt and most of his tree-trunk sized thighs were stripped.

“Well, that wasn’t’ too successful, Brad,” Jake chuckled. “Can you try it again?”

I knelt down over his legs, intending to grab his around his waist and give another pull. But, my hands wandered up his legs, feeling the strong muscles and the downy curls of his hair, and ran my fingers over his strong butt cheeks, feeling their warmth, their hardness.

“Mmm, this feels good. I haven’t had a good handful of ass for a long time,” I said. “I wonder if there’s something else here that needs to be fixed, before we’re done with this project.”

I glimpsed Jake’s thick ball sack, underneath the cleft of his butt, heavy balls in a large, hairy sack, just below the curve of his cheeks, the rosebud of his hole just peeking out every time he moved his hips, as Jake tried to wiggle himself out from under the cooler’s motor. I reached between his legs, caressing the hair on his ball sack, hefting the weight of his large balls in my fingers, feeling his balls rise a bit, feeling his heat. His manly, musty odor from his now opened crotch and hole filled my nostrils, stirring my cock, dampening my own hairy pits, as I imagined what I’d like to do with this strong bull between my legs. My cock gave me its answer, as it rose from its furry nest between my legs, pushing stiffly against the fabric of my jeans.

Stripping Jake of his boots and the rest of his jeans around his ankles, I dropped my own pants around my ankles, and stripped off my shirt. My chest was rising faster, and my own arm pits were damp now, damp with my excitement, my fantasy of taking Jake now, on the floor of the store. I looked down at my prize, my mind whirring with my thoughts of what I wanted to do with my prize. Wandering down a nearby aisle, I grabbed a couple of condoms, turned out the rest of the store lights, and came back to again gaze at this beefy, manly body prone on the floor, the toes trying to get a grip on the floor, to pull himself out.

I pulled Jake a bit farther out into the room, and pulled his butt up towards my now hard cock, so that Jake was on his knees, his shoulders and head still wedged under the motor, his cheeks now spread open before me, nearly ready for me to take him as my lover.

I reached around his lean, hard waist, and grasped his cock with my fist, feeling his cock fill with his hot blood, feeling him grow to fill my fist, his thick shaft throbbing, as I ran my thumb around the rim of his uncut cockhead, feeling the velvet of his foreskin slide away from the helmet of his manhood, rubbing the first of his pre-cum ooze out of his piss slit.

“Ooh, Brad, that feels real nice,” Jake said. “But, I’d like to get out from under here, so I could play along with you.”

“Later, Jake. I like what I see now, and this will be just fine for me,” I replied. “I think you’ll like how I fix this motor. There are some tools I want to use to get you tuned up just right.”

I tore open a condom, and unfolded its wet rubber over my now hard cockhead and stiff shaft, until I was fully shrouded, fully ready to become one with this hairy bear lying helpless underneath me, waiting for me to take him for the first time.

Running my other hand over Jake’s warm shoulders and around to his hairy, sweaty chest, I found his broad nipples, feeling their nubs, and the thick hair that grew around his nips, and pulled and teased them, until both his tits were hot in my hands, hard, eager. I ran my fingers through the thick curls on his chest, feeling the hot wetness of his horny sweat, sliding my fingers through the drops of musty sweat dripping from his armpits, soaking the bunched up cloth of his T shirt still covering his meaty shoulder muscles. I ran my fingertips, soaked with my lover’s sweat, into my moustache, Jake’s rich aroma filling my nostrils with his essence, stirring my cock to its hardest, raising the cum in my needy balls.

I grabbed the tube of the silicon lubricant Jake had used on the compressor, and pushed a large dollop of the goo around his hole, and up into his chute, coating him thoroughly, his hot body quickly liquefying the lube, opening him up for my taking of his ass. I pushed myself gently into his hole, feeling his eager, ready chute quickly clasp around the head of my cock, completely gripping me with his need, as I slid up into Jake, until my balls came to rest against his cheeks, against the fur of his thick, needy ball sack.

As I entered Jake, he moaned loudly, encouraging me to bury myself balls deep into him. He gasped, as my cockhead slid over his prostate, his cock jerking with pleasure in my fist, as my cock filled him completely. Jake’s thighs now clasped down against my own thighs, as I took my lover doggie style, the tender skin of his inner thighs pressed against my thighs, as my muscles tensed, finding my rhythm, as I pumped into Jake, stroking the length of his chute with my manhood.

Jake’s cock now hard in my hand, my fist quickly matched the rhythm of my hips, and Jake’s thrusts of his own hips as he thrust back against me, our ball sacks rubbing against each other on the down stroke of my pistoning. I could feel my sweat drip down from my armpits, running over my chest, and soaking my own eager, hard nipples, until drops of sweat were flung down onto my lover’s bare back, our combined lusty sweat filling the room with our need, our desire to unite, our desire to shoot our cum again and again.

As I thrust into Jake, I could hear his breath become ragged, heavy, and his muscles tensing underneath me. His stiff cock was hard in my hand, hot to the touch, and I began to feel his cum rise, and begin to course through his prostate, against my piston in his chute. I paused in my thrusting, to feel Jake cum, to feel his entire body rise to his climax. My cock vibrated with his gatherings of his cum, as he began to shoot his seed out to his hard cock.

I moved my fist from his hard, pulsing cock, until just my little finger gripped his cock head, as I cupped my fingers to catch his load of hot cum. My finger slid firmly against just his cockhead, setting off his trigger, unleashing his load, as he began to shoot strings of his pearly cum out of his cock, into my fingers, filling my hand with his juice, until he was fully drained. Jake panted beneath me, his back now wet with sweat, his damp butt cheeks pressed against my furry groin, our balls enmeshed with the sweat of our exertions. The room filled with his gasps, and our lusty sweat.

I thrust again into Jake, and then again, feeling the hotness of his flesh, and his strong grip of his chute against my shaft, my thrustings pushing out yet more cum through his cock and into my hand, now filled to the brim with his juice. Feeling that his cock was now fully drained, I ran my little finger once again around the rim of his cockhead, Jake moaning softly as I took the last of his juice into my hand.

Then, I took my cum filled hand, and began to smear Jake’s load all over his hairy, sweaty, still heaving chest, drenching his coarse, curly hair, soaking his hard, stiff nipples, and filling the air with his strong, male stink of fresh, hot cum, until my hand was free of Jake’s big load.

I wiped my cum soaked hand dry on his butt cheek, and, gripping his waist with both of my hands, I resumed my dance of lust inside of Jake’s ass, my cock again slipping back and forth in his tight chute. Jake thrust back at me with every piston stroke I made into him, and I soon reached my own climax, my chest and arm pits now drenched with my own horny sweat, until I, too, boiled over the point of no return, and filled Jake’s ass with my load, electricity filling me, every nerve focused on the spurts of cum shooting through my cock, until I could move no more, finally satisfied.

Freeing Jake, finally, I rolled him over and held him in my now sweaty, aching arms, my cock now slowly slipping out of the condom, my cockroot hair soaked with my juices and our combined sweat from our hairy, now satiated groins. I leaned into Jake’s cum-soaked furry chest, his fresh cum smell filling the air with its spicy scent, mixing with the hot fresh sweat from our chests and pits, as we both cooled off from our frenzied coupling.

“That was nice, Brad, how you helped me with that that twist of my nut, getting all the pipes connected and cleaned out like that,” Jake laughed, his beard split by his wide smile, as he hugged me tight with his big, muscular arms, holding me tight to his wet, furry chest.

“Well, I pride myself on my ability to use my tools well,” I replied, reaching over with my hand to tweak his nipple.

“Now that you broke me in with your tool, I should be a proper host and ask you to stay for dinner,” Jake said, his hand grabbing my bare butt cheek, his finger running up and down my crack, finding my hole, and rubbing his nail around my rim.

“You keep that up, and I’ll be wanting a lot more than dinner,” I chuckled.

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult gay male to male sex. If this content offends you or it is illegal for you to read this material, please leave this site.

Closed for Christmas, Part 2

After I had screwed Jake in the ass, his head and shoulders still pinned by the compressor motor in his store, and after he had shot his complete load into my hand, with me wiping his seed all over his hairy, sweaty chest, we caught our breath, and slipped on our jeans again.

My friend, the storekeeper, was still a bit flushed, as he began to recover from his climax, and my taking of his ass.

“That was incredible, Brad,” Jake said, as he zipped up his jeans, stuffing his still half hard cock into the confines of his pants. “You really surprised me, but, I can’t say I’m complaining. I’ve been thinking of your cock and you shoving your cock up my ass for quite some time.”

Jake took me into the kitchen of his house, at the back of the store, and began to cook dinner. As we had just made love, it didn’t seem like an imposition to take him up on his invitation to share Christmas Eve dinner with him. I began to slip my arms into my shirt, but Jake reached over and tugged my flannel winter shirt back off of my beefy arms, tossing the shirt onto the coat tree in the living room, next to my wool mackinaw jacket.

My new bearded, hairy lover insisted we dine bare chested.

“I’ve always admired your manly chest, Brad, and this gives me the chance to take a good look at you without your shirt,” Jake said. “I just enjoy looking at all that curly fur, and your strong, well developed muscles. The view is a good appetizer, on more than one level.”

I had to agree, as Jake was a well-built man himself, his strong muscles flexing as he took over the kitchen, the fur literally flying on his hairy torso as he started dinner.

Jake soon had a couple of steaks frying in a big cast iron skillet, along with some potatoes and onions. We dove into the feast, filling our bellies with Jake’s expert cooking, until we both leaned back in our chairs, our stomachs now satisfied, along with our balls.

Jake put the dishes in the sink and went over to his amply stocked bar, and poured us both a healthy glass of whiskey and soda, and began to tell me the story of his growing awareness that he was gay, and the various traumas and stories of his youth. He realized he’d always been gay, and when he decided to tell his family, they all expressed their rage and disbelief, effectively kicking him out of the family.

He’d looked for work in a number of towns, and finally found this store for sale one day, and decided this would be a good place to live. He enjoyed the frenzy of activity during the fishing and boating seasons, and also the quiet of the winter. He found a lot of peace here, and was starting to make some friends among the locals.

“No one else has got, well, got so close to me as you, Brad,” Jake chuckled, enjoying his joke about our recent lovemaking on the floor. “I liked that a lot, and I feel I need to return your kindnesses.”

“Oh, but I insist, big boy,” Jake replied. “It’s my turn, now. I just need to have you follow my directions for a bit, and then we can get you off big time. It’s going to be a cold, snowy night, and we both have the next two days off. I always close the store for a couple of days at Christmas, and, well, I want to make sure you enjoy my presents for you.”

I had no other plans for Christmas, except being alone in my small house by the lake, and Jake’s invitation had every attraction I needed for a good, enjoyable holiday.

Jake refreshed our drinks, and we talked a bit about Christmases past and our special delights over the holiday. Jake told me he’d been alone the last few Christmases, ever since he bought the store, but this year, he decided he wanted some company. He’d been thinking of inviting me over for a couple of weeks, but didn’t have the courage to make that commitment to me.

He picked up the rest of the bottle of whiskey and grabbed my hand, leading me down the hall to what I was to discover was his bedroom. A pellet stove was fired up in one corner, and there was a large, king sized bed on the other side of the room. The ceiling was planks of rich knotty pine, with several large beams running the length of the room. From one beam, two ropes with pulleys hung from large wrought iron hooks screwed into the beam. At one end of each rope, there were cloth loops.

“Put your hands through these, Brad,” Jake asked, moving my hands into the loops, the cloth tightening around my wrists as Jake moved a slip knot snuggly against my wrists. Before I could really think what I was getting myself into, Jake had pulled on the ropes, hoisting my wrists and my hands towards the ceiling, so that I was tied, helpless, my bare feet just barely flat on the floor.

“You had me held tight under that darn compressor motor, and had your way with me, Brad,” Jake chuckled. “Now, I’m just returning the favor, and I’m gonna give you a dose of your own medicine.”

Jake refreshed my glass of whiskey and soda, and ran its cold, sweating glass across my moustached lips, and down my neck, into my chest, rubbing off the beaded moisture on my curly chest hair, until he rubbed the ice cold glass against each of my nipples, the cold shrinking and tightening the tender flesh, sending waves of delight and pain up into my brain and down into my now tightening ball sack, my hole puckering just slightly at the contrast between the icy, sweaty class and the heat of the room on my naked chest, and the heat of the whiskey in my belly.

He held the glass to my lips, so that I could sip the whiskey. As I sipped, he ran one hand down my hairy, eager chest, until he cupped my balls and cock, still confined to my jeans, rubbing his thumb over my cockhead, his fingers exploring my balls, feeling their warmth, driving them to filling once again with my cum, until all I could think of was wanting to cum. Jake tipped the glass again, until all of the whiskey had slid down my throat, warming my belly and chest with its liquid fire.

My armpits, now stretched tight from the rope securing my wrists, dampened, both with nervous anticipation of what Jake was planning to do with me, and the lust and excitement of being taken by this big bear of a man, in his well-equipped bed chamber, as the winter storm moved in, gusts of wind driven snow beating on the roof above us, the only sound in the room coming from the flames in the stove, and my now labored breathing.

I could smell my own musty, slightly acrid smell, the smell of a day of work, the soap in my shower, and my lusty, thrusting sweat from taking Jake a couple of hours ago, his cum now dry on my furry chest, and a bit of my cum drying in my own cock fur, still damp against my jeans.

Jake stood before me, slowly rubbing his hands on his furry chest and belly, wiping his armpits with his fingers, then rubbing his sweat across my moustache and stubbled cheeks and chin.

“Smell me, lover. Take a good strong whiff,” Jake whispered. “You’re gonna be smelling a lot of me the next few days, and I want you to get real familiar with every part of me.”

“I like my lovers bearded, you know. That moustache of yours is darned sexy, and I’m enjoying the feel of your thick stubbled face,” Jake whispered. “I appreciate you not shaving this morning, and that stubble feels real good. But, I’m gonna insist you grow a full beard from now on. We’re gonna have a lot of fun with that stubble as it grows out into real man fur.”

He ran his hands slowly over my face, raising each whisker on my cheeks, jaw line, and chin, holding my face in his warm, tender hands, fully arousing each whisker, each nerve ending with his soft touch.

He slowly unbuttoned the top button of his jeans, pulling his pants slowly down a few inches, so I could see his belly hair thicken into the curls and pelt of his groin, his rippled abs flexing a bit, as he began to swivel his hips, moving himself suggestively to me, watching me watching him, watching my cock swell in my jeans.

Jake slowly unzipped his jeans, and pulled his pants down, displaying his thick, beefy cock, now hard, and bouncing against his strong belly, and his thick, furry balls, resting snugly against the root of his cock, tempting me with their manly thick hair and aroma of Jake’s sexual hunger and power.

He stood naked before me, thrusting his hips slightly, his cock dancing, his strong chest flexing, his shoulders and arms naked in the light of the oil lamps he had lit, and the flickering of the fire against the pine planks lining the walls and ceiling.

“You’re gonna want me again, Brad, Jake whispered. “But, I’ m gonna take you for my own, before we’re done here, tonight. You’re gonna be begging me to cum.”

He moved behind me, holding me next to his sweaty, hairy chest, tight against my back, so tight I could feel his heart beat against my ribs, as his hand moved down my belly, to play with my belt, pulling it tighter, drawing my belly in.

“Oh, I do like it tight,” Jake whispered. “Tight and close.”

His other hand moved up my belly and across my chest, pinching and pulling on each of my tits, until each nipple was hard, erect, and needy. He pulled on each of the ropes, pulling my arms up, raising me slightly off my heels, until I was standing mostly on the balls of my bare feet, my arm muscles pulled tight.

“Yeah, nice and tight,” Jake whispered again, as he ran his hand down the front of my jeans, feeling the heat and swelling of my cock, rubbing the tip of my shrouded cockhead with his thumb, until a spot of wetness soaked through the cloth.

He slowly undid my belt, letting me fully breathe again, until the belt hung loose in his hands. My jeans slid a bit, down onto my butt, exposing a few inches of my butt crack to the warmth of the room, and several inches down my crotch, until the waist of my jeans stuck against the thick hair at the base of my cock, my swelling shaft now doing its part to keep my pants on, defeating Jake’s effort to strip me naked, as I hung helpless against his attentions to my hungry flesh for more of Jake’s touch.

I wondered what it would be like, to be taken as a sexual captive to this naked, horny storekeeper, who had obviously prepared for my bondage by hanging these strong ropes from the ceiling, and luring me into his bedroom for whatever he wanted to do with me this Christmas Eve. Sometimes, I’d thought about being tied, and having a lover have his way with me, but I’d always thought that was just a wild fantasy, never something that I would actually experience. Yet, tonight, as I hung from Jake’s ropes, I felt a soothing sense of calm, and gentle anticipation, knowing that I was safe in his home, and that he would satisfy my every need, my every sexual desire tonight. And, my cock throbbed, anticipating what Jake would want from me tonight.

My bear lover kept fondling my chest, and exploring every part of my naked chest, pits, and back, and then slowly unzipped my jeans, poking his fingers into the furry nest of my crotch hair, running every curl through his fingers, and feeling the rough texture of my ball sack. He cupped my balls, and then rubbed each ball between his fingers and thumb, as my pants fell to my ankles, fully exposing my manhood to my lover, as I hung from the ropes, helpless to stop his groping of my family jewels, my now stiff, aching shaft and oozing cockhead.

Jake’s feet pushed away my now rumpled jeans from around my feet, leaving me naked and helpless to his probing and curious fingers, and his hard cock, which pressed up against my bare ass, probing for my hole. Sweat began to drip from my arm pits, running down my ribs, into the fur of my belly and pooling in the dark, hairy crevices of my groin, my nostrils filled with my now nearly raunchy odor. My lover ran his finger through the thick jungle of one of my pits, soaking his finger with my sweat, and then rubbed my smelly juice through my moustache and my thick chin stubble, filling my nose with my own strong, manly, lusty odor.

He pushed my feet apart, loosening the ropes pulling on my arms, so that once again, I could put most of my weight on my feet, my legs now spread far apart, my lover still behind me, his breath soft against my neck, and face, his beard rubbing against my rough cheeks and jaw, as he licked my ear lobe, wetting it with his probing tongue. His hand moved around to my now naked, exposed cock, its tip pointing to my stubbled chin. Jake gripped me in his fist, and began to slowly, lazily jack me, moving my stretched foreskin up and around my sensitive tip, pre cum oozing steadily now from my piss slit.

My balls rose in their furry sack, as I started to moan, my breath becoming ragged, my cum building in my balls, my arm pits and chest breaking out into a thick, hot sweat, as I started to reach my point of no return. Jake moved his fist from my needy cock, and grasped my balls, pulling them down into the bottom of my hairy ball sack, bringing me down from my point of nearly cumming, until my cock ached and throbbed with desire, with my need to burst, to shoot my cum once again through my manhood, finding my release.

“Not so fast, big boy,” Jake whispered, his thick moustache now next to my stubbled jaw, as he pulled my head back a bit, kissing me softly on my lips, tweaking my nipples with his other hand, holding me next to his furry chest.

My cock wilted, frustrated, my seed now pushed back down into my balls by Jake’s grasp of my nuts, filling my groin with lust, with need to find my release. Sweat from my ripe pits still poured down my body, my lust still unsatisfied, unmet.

Jake walked over to a nearby table, and picked up some items. In the dim light, I could not tell what they were, my attention instead focused on my unreleased balls and my now aching arms, holding me upright in the warmth of Jake’s chamber of love. I realized I hadn’t really known what I was getting myself into tonight, yet I remained aroused at the attentions of my lover on my now totally stripped, fully explored naked body hanging from the ceiling by two tight ropes.

Jake returned to me, a small rope in his hands. He quickly bound my balls and cockroot in a series of loops and ties, until the rope held my balls tight against my groin, underneath my cock, my balls now tightly held in the bottom of my nut sack. I tried to squirm my hips away from his knot tying, only to find myself swinging helplessly from the ropes, my body easily pushed around and controlled by Jake’s beefy hands and muscular arms.

He threw several more ropes up to the beam on the ceiling, easily catching several loops in the rope to some additional iron hooks in the beam, and attached what looked like a very loosely woven sling. With a few deft and quick pulls on his ropes and pulleys, I found myself neatly enclosed in a large hammock, my hands still held aloft, but my weight now supported along all of my back, yet still swinging in the air, at about the height of Jake’s waist. He quickly tied new loops of cloth around my thighs just above my knees and pulled on several ropes, pulling my legs apart, so that my entire groin and butt were splayed open, as I swung bare assed and helpless, open to whatever mischief Jake had in mind.

“Now, the real fun of the evening begins, my friend,” Jake whispered in my ear, as he ran his fingers through my sweaty moustache and my damp, bristly stubbled lower face, teasing my lips with his finger tip, and running a hand along my still wet arm pit, gently tugging on the curls of my pit hair.

“You’re smelling a little riper, Brad. “I like that in my lovers. A ripe pit is so manly, I think, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do, Jake. But, you’ve make me a bit nervous here, what with all the ropes and such,” I replied. I’ve, …I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat, big Brad, you big, husky soon to be a bearded man,” Jake replied, as he took out a blindfold, tying it quickly behind my head, until I could see nothing but blackness.

“This will make it more enjoyable for you, Brad. I want you to concentrate on what I’m doing to your body. I want to have you feel everything with intensity, to be fully aware of each and every sensation,” Jake said, running his finger again through my thick moustache, and across my stubbled cheeks and chin. “Mmmm, can’t wait until that chin hair grows in. I love to feel a man’s furry chin against my balls as he sucks me.”

I felt Jake’s meaty hands caress every inch of my hairy chest, fingering the curls of the thick pelt, pinching and stroking my nipples into each nub was stiff, wanting. He moved down to my hard cock and full balls, still tied by Jake’s rope, snug against my cock root, holding my balls firmly in the bottom of my ball sack. He cupped my captive balls, rubbing his thumb through my curly ball hairs, and the thick matt of hair surrounding my cock, the warmth of his hand heating my lust to a new level.

My lover then slowly jacked my aching hard cock, moving the skin of my shaft up and down, the foreskin soft against my thick cock head, now lubricated by the steady oozing of my pre cum, sending jolts of pleasure down into my balls and the core of my groin, raising my lust to a new state of desire. He ran his fingers around my balls, lifting and fondling each one of them, fully exploring my most private, most intimate organs, holding my cock head in his fingers, gently stroking my cock tip, as my hips pushed high into his hands, hoping for my release.

I heard Jake move around to my exposed crotch, his hot thighs now pushing against my tender inner thighs, his coarse leg hair stimulating my skin, as he moved my legs farther apart, fully opening my hole and my tied balls to his every whim, my arms still wrapped in Jake’s ropes, hooked into the ceiling, as I swung helplessly, naked, open to my hairy, horny lover. Still blindfolded, my nostrils took in my own lusty sweat rising from my wet armpits, and Jake’s musty, horny sweat.

His fingers began to probe my hole, wetting me in some sort of oil, opening my rosebud to first one, then two fingers, as he reached up into my chute, oiling me and finding my hard, sensitive prostate. He began to stroke my needy, full gland, making my balls rise tight against their bindings, raising my cum, my cock now throbbing with every beat of my heart. The room was silent now, except for the beating of my heart in my now sweaty, panting chest, and the soft slurping sound of Jake wetting my hole, my hairy balls and my needy cock.

“Take me, Jake,” I gasped. “Fill me up with your big cock, and let me cum.”

Jake remained silent, but responded to my need by pushing what seemed like his hard cock up against my hole. Then, slowly, he pushed into me, sliding his fat cock head into my hole, sending waves of pleasure up my spine, filling my brain with images of a giant cock entering me, the cock of my hairy, manly bear lover.

Soon, I felt my body swaying at the end of the ropes that gripped my wrists and under my knees, my bare ass slipping wetly onto Jake’s steely manhood, as I swung back and forth over his fat cock head, the wet slurps of the lube and our juices filling the room, the ropes softly creaking with the weight of my sweating, needing body, helplessly being fucked by Jake’s stiff cock.

Jake barely pulled on my thighs, so that the swinging motion was just a few inches at a push. My horny brain now totally focused on the sensations of his cock stuffed into my ass, his shaft rubbing back and forth in my chute, and through my hole, until that became the only event in the world worth my thoughts.

Jake’s other hand fondled my now near bursting balls, and oozing hard cock. His fingers dawdled around my seeping cock head, and he brought a large dollop of my precum up to my moustache, and rubbed it on my tongue, as I gasped for air, my climax now building towards its inevitable explosion.

“Taste yourself, Brad,” Jake whispered, as his finger cradled the large taste of my juices, and smeared it onto my tongue. “Taste how wonderful you are, so virile, so potent, so manly.”

I had never tasted my juices before, and the sensation raised my lust and my sense of exploding sexual power to a new height, all of my senses fully energized, as Jake began to slowly jack my cock with his fingers, now damp from my pre-cum that was dripping into the thick hair of my cockboat.

“It’s time you saw what I’m doing to you,” Jake whispered again, as he yanked off my blindfold, my eyes squinting in the suddenness of the light, even though the only light in the room were several oil lamps and the pellet stove, snapping and crackling in the corner. Before me stood a strong, hairy beast, covered with thick curls of black hair over his sweaty, glowing chest and heaving belly, his muscular arms reaching around one of my thighs to rock me slowly, the other hand grasping my hard, dripping cock and full balls.

Now, I had an image in my eyes to match the full thrusts of a fat cock in my ass, drumming into me with its insistent rhythm. And, what I saw fully taking me with his lust was far better than my imagination could create, now that I could see Jake before me, trying to split my naked ass in two, as he prepared to rock his manhood in and out of my hungry hole.

My bearded laughing lover, thrusting his hips into my ass, was naked, except for a large red and white Santa hat on his hairy head. His face was lit up with his big smile, as he looked down on me, naked, tied, and fucked, a captive in his bedroom.

“Merry Christmas, Brad,” Jake chuckled, his muscular pecs and shoulders flexing in rhythm with the fucking motion of his hips, as he started to penetrate me, taking me as his lover this Christmas night.

“Merry Christmas to you, Santa,” I responded, laughing at the thought of being screwed by Santa, being given the gift of Santa’s cock, as Santa filled my Christmas wish list with every thrust of his muscular, thrusting hips and fat cock.

Jake reached around to the side of my swollen balls and slowly, finally untied the rope that had secured my shaft and balls for what had seemed the entire evening, finally freeing me to cum, to find my release, as he kept me rocking back and forth, my ass speared by his mighty love muscle, filling me again and again, as he pumped me.

“I’ve always enjoyed untying the ribbons on the packages at Christmas,” Jake panted, as he grinned down at me, his face now sweaty with his efforts, his entire body now fully enflamed in his rhythm, as he steadily screwed me with his hot, slippery cock.

I could see the skin underneath Jake’s furry, sweat covered chest begin to flush a rich reddish color, and his cock began to expand inside of me, pushing firmly against my chute, to even a greater diameter, his breath now coming in ragged gasps, as Jake reached his climax. In a second, I felt his cock explode in me, shooting spurt after spurt of his seed deep inside of me, his pistoning rhythm now slowing to an occasional deep thrust, as the last of his cum shot from his balls, through his spasming cock.

As his last spurt of jism shot through his cock, Jake pushed his thumb deep into the hairy skin between my churning balls and my penetrated hole, triggering my own explosion, as his other hand gripped my shaft, pumping me hard, sending a large splash of my seed high into the air over my own heaving belly and chest, until my chest and belly were drenched in six or seven hosings of my jism, mingling with my sweat, and dripping down my ribs and into the soaked crevices of my armpits.

Fully drained, we both gasped, trying to regain our breath, as Jake released the ropes from their pulleys, gently lowering me to the floor, and freeing my arms and legs from their captivity, as Jake leaned over me, rubbing his fur into the cum soaked fur on my belly and chest. His now exhausted cock, its rubbery shroud now filled with his own seed, lay hot and limp against my drained balls, its contents now oozing into my thick hair of my crotch and ball sack.

As we lay there on the floor, Jake held me close to him, his strong arm around my shoulders, my head cradled against his hard, muscular shoulder, my stubbled face against his wet, hairy chest. I felt his warmth against my cheek, and listened to the strong throbs of his heart. The rich, nearly fetid smells of his armpits and his chest, a combination of his manly sweat, spent lust, and drying cum filled my nostrils, evoking memories of past lovemaking, and fantasies I had never could hope would be fulfilled, until tonight.

We slowly unpeeled our cum soaked selves from each other’s furry, cum wet bodies, and ambled over to the bottle of whiskey, where my new lover poured each of us a sip of Christmas cheer. We looked out the window at the lake in the moonlight, as church bells rang in the distance.

“It seems that Christmas has also cum, partner.”

Thanksgiving Stuffing

2011-11-26T07:35:00.000-08:00

(This was first published in 2008, but it is time to reprint it here. Happy holidays!)

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult gay male to male sex. If you are offended by this content, or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.

Thanksgiving Stuffing

As the plane began its descent, I tried to catch another nap, but I began thinking of Thanksgiving at my mom’s. I knew Rick would be there, a big hunk of a bear. Ever since my sister began to date him, I’d fantasize about his hairy, strong arms and chest, and tight butt, and what we could do to each other some night in the sack. I’d always wondered what his bearded lips could do to my cock, if he’d dare to take me up on my unspoken lust for him.

It was just a dream, I realized. Rick was straight. He married my sister, and he was a successful businessman. I’d never picked up any vibes from him that he was interested in men, let alone his brother in law.

As always, it was going to be an interesting Thanksgiving at my mom’s. She had called several weeks ago, insisting I come home for the holiday. It was the first Thanksgiving after my sister’s divorce, and the whole family was out of sorts.

We were all pretty upset that Susan divorced Rick this past summer. It was a shock to all of us, as they seemed to be the perfect couple, and Rick was beloved by all of us, and quickly became my mom’s other son. Susan had stunned us by announcing she had been having a long affair with her boss, and was ending her three year marriage.

Susan wasn’t going to be with us, as she and her lover, whom she married as soon as the divorce was final, were off to the Caribbean for the holidays. Mom still adored Rick, and invited him for the weekend, too, just like old times. She wanted me there, too, so Rick wouldn’t be the only “son” at home, and so he’d have another man to talk to, someone his age. Mom knew we were good friends, and that Rick always enjoyed my wry sense of humor. Besides, Mom had said that Rick was still pretty low after the divorce, and needed to be around family for the holidays.

I was the last one to arrive, and everyone lined up at the door to welcome me with a big hug, including Rick. He had flown in a few hours before me, and gave me a hearty embrace, telling me it was great to see me again, and asking me if we could work in a racquetball game sometime over the weekend. He’d wanted to see if he could beat me again, like he usually did.

We spent the day like any Thanksgiving, stuffing ourselves silly on a huge table of our favorite foods, then nearly passing out on the couch as we all watched several football games, interlaced with two desserts, and then, yet another plateful of food. Rick loosened the belt on his jeans, and we laughed at how much we had put away.

My mom, my aunt and my sister announced that they would be up at the crack of dawn the next day, to take in the holiday sales at the mall, and that Rick and I would be on our own for the entire day. Rick and I agreed to try out the racquetball court and take a walk along the river, as the weather promised to be pretty decent for late November. We certainly weren’t shoppers, especially on the busiest shopping day of the year.

Mom had put both Rick and me in the back bedroom, over the garage, as we had a full house, and Mom wanted to give us some time to visit.

“You boys don’t want to listen to all of our girl chatter, anyway,” she joked.

As we all headed for bed after the long day of eating, visiting, and watching TV, I opened the bedroom door, to find Rick already stripping off his shirt, and pulling down the comforter on the king sized bed. His strong shoulders rippled, and I admired his thick, curly black chest hair, cascading down his well-defined pecs and firm belly. I knew he liked to work out, and prided himself on keeping in shape.

“Looks like we’re sharing the bed, Dave,” Rick chuckled. “I don’t snore very much, and I think you’ll find me to be a good bed mate.”

My cock stirred again, entranced by the sight of this hairy, muscular hunk of a man, stripping his clothes off, ready to share a bed with me. My cock was living its own fantasy, and was trying to get me to go along.

“I don’t mind at all, Rick,” I said, as I stripped off my shirt, my own hairy chest feeling the coolness of the bedroom air, and began to unbutton my jeans. “I sleep in the nude. I hope you’re comfortable with that.”

“Yeah, I sure am. Susan couldn’t stand me sleeping bare assed, so to please her, I wore pajamas. They’re just too hot for me, so now, I just do what pleases me. She didn’t like to see my hairy chest, either. Even when we made love, she’d make me wear a T shirt. She told me all that hair was gross and made her itch.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound very romantic, or even very comfortable. I think you look real manly,” I replied, as we both stripped off our jeans and shorts, and crawled into the large bed. I caught a good glimpse of his large balls and his uncut cock, before he slipped under the sheet. He was an attractive, well build man, a man I wanted to hold in my arms, a man my cock wanted for itself, all night long.

After we doused the lights, except for a night light, Rick began to talk about his marriage, and Susan’s betrayal. We’d talked about everything but that during the day. Now, I sensed he needed to get a lot off of his chest, and I listened to him pour out his heart. I could feel the heat from his naked body, just inches from me, as he waved his hands, his voice intent on his story, as my cock stirred, knowing his uncut manhood was within reach of my eager hand, and my needy cock. I could smell his manly aroma rising from his bushy pits, musty, hot with his emotions, his sad story.

“She made me feel like such an ass, even when we screwed. I always had to beg her to have sex. She started telling me I didn’t satisfy her, and that I wasn’t much of a man. She told me my cock was too small, and I didn’t know how to service her,” Rick said, his voice starting to crack a bit, as I saw a tear roll down into his beard.

“After she told me she’d been screwing that son of a bitch for months, she bragged about what a stud he was, and that she realized she needed a real man in her bed, someone who knew how to take care of her needs, to make her feel like a whole woman,” Rick said, his voice rising in anger. “She said she’d finally found someone with a real cock, who knew how to use it.”

“Well, Rick, you look pretty handsome to me, and from what I’ve seen of you, you certainly have a lot to offer in that department,” I replied.

Rick knew that I liked men, and that I’d had my share of romance over the years with guys, and I’d always felt that he had accepted me for who I was. We’d come to talk about our love lives over the years, becoming close, becoming brothers. We’d both had our moments with my sister, and her moods and personality quirks were a subject of frequent conversations between us, at the gym or over a beer, during our visits these last three years.

“Dave, I need your honest opinion, here,” Rick said. “Do you think I’m too small?”

Rick flipped down the sheet covering his chest, belly and, now, his furry groin, displaying his large, flaccid cock, draped over his hairy ball sack, his uncut tip lying on his muscular thigh. It was, indeed, a sight for sore, horny eyes, laying there, amidst all the curls of his bush, the thick hair curling around his cockroot, and the fur of his balls.

I began to sweat, my heart picking up, as this strong, muscular man in my bed baring his gorgeous, mouthwatering manhood for my inspection, my commentary, my fantasy.

“It’s magnificent, Rick. You’ve got something there to brag about, that’s for sure,” I replied. “And, I assume it works just fine when it gets a bit harder, when you’re making love to a beautiful lady.”

“Well, that’s my quandary, brother. I went out on a date a few weeks ago, and we were both willing, but Mr. Peter there didn’t seem to get the message, and I was limp as a noodle. I’m wondering now, if I can get it up with anyone,” Rick said, as he took his hand and grasped his cock, beginning to stroke it. He pumped himself four or five times, and his cock didn’t move, didn’t respond to his attentions.

“See. It just lies there,” he cried. “I think I’m impotent. That God damned Susan did a real number on me. Or, maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m just a failure as a man.”

Rick began to weep, and I reached over to embrace him, his head on my shoulder, our bare, furry chests touching, as his tears wetted my skin, and began to roll down into the curls of my pecs. I hugged him tightly, holding him as he released his sorrow, his anger, his rage into my hard shoulder.

“Rick, you are a beautiful man,” I said. “You are kind, sensitive, and a lot of fun to be around. And, your cock just needs the right kind of relationship. When you are with someone you can trust, who respects you, who is a friend before they are a lover, then your cock will know that.”

Rick nodded, between sobs. We began to talk about our emotions, our desires to be sensitive, understanding men, and how hard it is to really relate to people on a gut level, to talk about really emotional stuff, to truly bare our souls to someone.

“How does it work for you, Dave, with other men?” Rick asked. “Can you have sex without some sort of relationship?”

I assured him I could, most men can, but sex without some emotional connection, without some degree of love, respect was just mutual masturbation. A real meaningful orgasm could only occur if there was friendship and respect.

“I’ve never had that, even with Susan. I thought that was our relationship, but it obviously wasn’t,” Rick said. “If my cock responded to someone, I guess then I’d know. I guess then I could try to make love, and even be good at it. I just don’t know.”

We talked a bit more about our feelings, and I answered Rick’s questions about how men make love, how they could express their emotions with each other in bed. As we talked, Rick relaxed, and we were able to joke a bit. He reached over to hug me again, and I felt his cock against my thigh, its shaft now hard, its head enlarged.

“Well, Rick, you seem to be pretty relaxed around me now, except for Mr. Peter there. He seems wanting a little attention from me,” I chuckled.

I could feel Rick blush, his face and chest turning red.

“Uh, well, …,” he stammered.

“Maybe you need to be with a man, Rick. Not all of us are built to only want sex with just one sex. Many men are interested in having sex with another man. And, it seems like Mr. Peter has expressed an interest here. If you want to make love to me, I wouldn’t say no,” I said, holding him tightly to my chest, our naked bodies touching, his hard cock against my belly.

“I’d like that, Dave. You’ve always treated me as a good friend, as a brother, and I trust you. I’ve always thought I only liked women, but lately, I’ve realized I also have an interest in men. I’ve just never had the courage to explore that with someone, someone I trust,” Rick said.

“But, you’re a guy I can trust, Dave, and I’d like you to be… the first.”

I gently pushed Rick back, on to his back, his strong, chiseled chest now beneath my hand, as I stroked his thick pelt of curls, and played with his ripe, eager nipples, feeling them harden to my touch, feeling them stiffen, aching for even more attention.

My fingers explored his damp, forested armpits, feeling his nervous, horny sweat begin to pool in his crevices, wetting his thick hairs, his musty scent now stronger with his excitement, the newness of male love. His breath deepened, his chest now rising and falling more rapidly, as I took his nipples into my mouth, rubbing my beard and moustache into the thickness of his hairy chest, my lips tasting the fresh sweat breaking out on his skin, as I moved farther south, stroking his hard belly, cupping his balls with my other hand, feeling the heat of his lust.

Soon, I was tasting his shaft, its silky smooth skin tight against the hardness of his thick, meaty cock, my finger and thumb circling his cockroot, tight against the curls of his hair, feeling his pulse of blood coursing into his manhood, savoring my attention to his hot steel meat.

I took Rick’s hand, and moved it to my chest, leading him in fondling my nipples, rubbing my hair, feeling my own increasing heartbeat, the sweat of my lust for this new lover, the man of my fantasies. I pulled his bearded jaw close to my chest, holding him against my tits, as his tongue began to tantalize the points of my hard nips, feeling his wet tongue against the hard ends, sending electricity into my brain, into my hard cock, bringing my full balls to life, now ready to empty themselves with his touch.

As we started to move into high gear, I gently pushed Rick away, whispering that we needed to get some protection, and I grabbed several condoms from my suitcase, returning to our bed, finding my lover anxious to move on to the next level. I tore open a condom, and slowly rolled it down Rick’s hard cock, its head now leaking pre-cum, soaking his shaft and balls. As I moved the condom down his hot shaft with my thumb and finger, I inhaled his rich, manly smell, musty, horny aroma, and ran my hand over his furry groin, feeling the hardness of his cock against the back of my hand, caressing his full balls with my palm, his heat rising into the room, warming my bare skin.

I took Rick fully into my mouth, plunging up and down on him, his cockhead sliding the length of my tongue, his manhood filling my mouth with his urgent need, his balls rising as they readied themselves to hurl his seed, to reach his climax. His hands gripped my shoulders hard, as his hips bucked beneath me, thrusting his cock hard into my mouth, his balls bouncing against my moustache, my beard, his breath now coming in ragged gasps.

I pulled on Rick’s nipple, sending yet another bolt of lust to his brain, releasing his sperm from his balls, as it shot through his pistoning cock, releasing himself into my wet, hungry mouth, until his spasms subsided, his cock now slowly spending the last of his seed, the condom now sticking to his cock shaft by the rest of his cum, dripping down to soak the fur on his balls.

As Rick slowly began to relax from his journey to the other side of the sun, he began to explore my still eager balls, my still hard cock, and the muscles and hair of my hungry body, finding the spots that men have touched since time began, the places where the sources of pleasure await the knowing fondlings of their lovers. His hairy face slowly caressed my wanting chest, my belly, answering my hunger for the touch of another man.

He took my cock in his mouth, hesitating at first, with a bit of uncertainty.

“Go for it, partner,” I whispered. “Just do what you think you would like me to do to you. It’s that simple.”

I could feel Rick’s shoulders relax, as he renewed his attack on my stiff shaft, until he had me moaning and panting, until I could feel my own jism rise in my balls, ready to shoot my load into the eager maw of my lover’s hot mouth, emptying myself into him, as I climbed my own mountain.

Rick kept fondling me, stroking me, bringing me closer and closer to my own climax, until I could no longer resist his siren song of touches and pistoning, until he finally released me to cum, again and again, until I could shoot no more, until I was fully satisfied, held by my lover, as I reached the top of my mountain.

Rick held me in his muscular, warm arms, gently stroking the hairs on my beard and moustache, as we talked about our fantasies, our sexuality, our feelings of horniness throughout our lives. I cupped his balls again, as we talked, feeling his nuts in his ball sack, holding him close, as he shared with me his most intimate thoughts, his most personal desires and wants.

“What do you want to do with me now, Rick? What is your deepest wish tonight?” I asked.

“I want to be inside of you, Dave. I want to take you with my cock, and I want to experience you in the most complete way I can imagine,” Rick said.

“I’d like that, too, Rick. I want you to take me now, to completely fill me with yourself, to put your very essence of existence inside of me, to fully know me,” I replied.

“I want to take you to a place you’ve never been, but a place you’ve always wanted to be.”

I retrieved more condoms from my suitcase, along with a pint of whiskey, and handed Rick the bottle. He took a long swig and so did I. He lit several candles that were on the night stand, saying that he wanted to see me clearly when he entered me, and wanted to experience everything about this night he possibly could.

My lover then began to run his hands along my naked back, rubbing his strong hands against my muscles and into my armpits, and around to my eager, hungry nipples. I unrolled his second rubber down his once again hard cock, his silky skin still wet from his first cumming, his balls now swaying beneath his cock and his hairy groin, hot to my touch.

Rick laid me on my back in the middle of our bear sized bed, spreading my thighs with his strong thighs and hips, until my balls and hungry cock were opened for him, until my hole was exposed to his stiff cock. I looked between my thighs to see my lover, his bearded face split by a large grin, his hairy, sweaty chest and hard nipples glowing in the candlelight, his furry belly moving in and out with his breath, now deepening, as he began to make love to me, again.

He planted his large, muscled, furry arms on both sides of my now damp chest, his hairy pits now wet with his lusty sweat, my nostrils now filled with his stronger scent of musty, horny sweat and the drying cum from both of our cocks, the room filled with golden candlelight and male lust.

I guided his manhood against my hole, wetting his missile with my saliva, feeling the head of his cockhead against the rosebud of my hole, feeling Rick’s eagerness as he positioned himself to take a man for his first time.

“Take me, Rick. Take me with everything you’ve got,” I whispered into his ear, his beard rubbing against my beard, his breath hot and ragged, as I felt his shaft in my hands, as I moved his cockhead into my hole.

Rick slid into me, slowly at first, until his cockhead popped through my hole, until his entire shaft filled my chute with his thick, hot manhood. His cockhead pushed past my prostate, Rick fully into me, until his balls pushed against my butt cheeks, his furry bush pushing against my own balls, until we were united, until we were one.

As he pistoned himself into me, finding his rhythm, his furry chest and belly rubbed against me, caressing my once again hard cock against his hot, sweaty skin, bringing me closer to my second climax, my second trip to the mountain.

Rick stuffed me with his hard cock, rocking into me, filling me, satiating me even as I hungered for my own release, until I felt him explode inside of me, his cock shooting and throbbing, his balls emptying once again, exploding into me, until he had nothing left to give, until he was fully released.

As Rick came, he brought me along, bringing me once again to the top of my mountain, until I shot my load, splattering my cum over our hairy bellies, our sweaty, hairy chests, adding more lubricant to our thrustings, until we fell onto the bed together, sweat and cum everywhere we touched.

“Now, I really know what it means to being stuffed on Thanksgiving.”

Weekend Campout

2011-11-12T15:47:00.001-08:00

I’d been planning the weekend getaway for a couple of months. I wanted to get away, find some time on the beach by myself, and take in one of those winter storms the Oregon coast is famous for. There was something about the wind howling outside, the rain pouring down, and falling asleep next to the beach, listening to the roar of the ocean, the thick smell of salt air deep in my lungs.

I’d rented one of the new yurts at my favorite state park, one of those eight sided canvas tents, the ones the Mongols used out on the desert. They were practically indestructible, even in a winter storm. Besides, there was a sink and electricity, so I wasn’t exactly roughing it. I could still say I went camping, but with an electric heater, a coffee maker, and a decent bed, I was more than comfortable.

I’d taken off work early that Friday, and checked in about mid afternoon. The only ranger on duty gave me the key, remarking that not too many people were going to be here this weekend, what with the big storm moving in. We talked a bit, about the storm, and walking on the beach, and my photography. He was a big man, filling out his ranger’s shirt nicely with what looked like a well developed set of pecs and lean belly. A nice thatch of chest hair poked out of his shirt, going nicely with the thick full red beard that covered his face, still tan from the summer and the warm fall we’d had.

My cock stirred a bit at the sight of him, leaning out of the window at the ranger’s booth. I hadn’t been with a guy for far too long, and my brain had a nice little day dream going on, while he handed me a map of the campground, and told me where I should park my pickup.

We talked a bit, and I found out he was a photographer, too. We both liked to write, and I told him I’d be working on a couple of stories this weekend, too. I mentioned I had a couple of bottles of good Scotch and he’d be welcome to have a taste.

“Not on duty,” he said. “Rules, you know. But, I appreciate the offer.”

I drove over to the parking lot on the other side of the campground, taking my pick of the parking spaces, as I was the only one around. In a few minutes, I had my sleeping bag and the other stuff I’d brought for the weekend stashed in my new home for the weekend. I got out my laptop, my camera, and the first bottle of Scotch. It was going to be a good weekend, and I’d already started to unwind from the hectic week at my job in the city.

In a few minutes, I was down on the beach, taking in the spectacular crashes and roar of the surf. The tide was in and there wasn’t much room on the beach to walk, so I wandered around on a few of the trails, taking in the sights of the storm moving in, and the big Spruce trees that made up most of the rainforest, just east of the sand dune that divided the beach from the forest.

The wind was picking up and the light was fading, so I headed back to the yurt, thinking about having a drink and heating up some stew for dinner. With the storm moving in, it would be a good night for writing.

On the way back, I had to dodge a few tree branches and limbs that were blowing around, and the wind was kicking up to a pretty big storm.

I settled in, slipping off my boots and turning on the little space heater, and cracked open a bottle of my favorite single malt. Just as I was about to take a sip, there was a knock on the door.

“Anybody home?” a deep baritone voice asked.

I swung open the door and the ranger who’d checked me in was standing there, a propane lantern in his meaty hand.

“Come on in,” I said, my eyes taking in the sight of the bearded side of beef. The evening was looking up.

He’d brought me the lantern as this was going to be a pretty big storm, and the park sometimes loses power. I’d need the lantern if I was going to be doing any writing tonight.

“Want a drink?” I asked. “It must be about your quitting time, anyway.”

He looked at his watch and then at the sky, which was quickly turning pitch black, with the storm clouds moving in at a brisk speed.

“Yeah, I think I’m off duty”, he said, setting the lantern on the table. “I’m the only one around tonight, and it looks like you’re the only camper crazy enough to want to camp out during the storm.”

I poured another glass of the single malt, and we took a seat on the little bench just outside the door of the yurt, looking through the forest out to the ocean, the last light of the day softly lighting the breaking waves. The wind roared across the ocean and through the trees, whistling and howling.

The Scotch fit in well with the rage of the coming storm, and we both took it all in. The last of the tension in my shoulders for the work week and the drive down here quickly ebbed away, thanks to the storm, the Scotch, and being able to get to know my new buddy.

We quickly slipped into a good conversation about photography and light, and what worked best as far as lenses and f-stops and shutter speeds go when we were taking pictures of the ocean and the rain forest.

I soon found out that he goes by Ken to his friends, and he lives alone. The head ranger has a big house here, and there’s another little caretaker house, where Ken lives. The other rangers are seasonal and the head ranger has family in the city, so Ken is here by himself about half the time during the winter.

The nearest night life is about twenty miles away down a crooked, windswept road, so Ken usually stays close, playing his guitar, and working on his writing and photography.

The wind was picking up, and we headed inside, grateful to get out of the wind and the first splash of the thick rain that would soon pour down on us. Besides, we both needed a refill on the Scotch.

As we moved inside, I was able to get a good eyeful of Ken’s nice tight butt, and the sweet looking bulge of his crotch, inside his jeans. His shoulders were nice and thick, and I could see that the weightlifting machine he had in his little house wasn’t gathering dust. My cock was thickening up a bit, hoping that I’d find a roommate for the night, something to warm up my sleeping bag on this stormy night.

We talked a bit more, and I could see Ken checking me out a bit. I hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and Ken asked me if I was growing a beard. I’d had a goatee for a couple of years now, and I was thinking about adding to it, and growing a full beard.

“Yeah, a full beard would look good on you, Brian,” he said. “The bit of gray you’ve got going on your chin would look good with a full jawline of whiskers running past your ears.”

We laughed and joked about all the trouble and routine of shaving every day, and how it was just easier to leave the razor in the drawer, and let nature figure it all out.

The conversation turned to working out and getting in shape, and how a desk job made it hard to keep the pounds off.

The wind gusted hard, and a couple of trees moaned. It was ratcheting up to be a big evening.

“How about I heat up some dinner,” I said. “I have plenty for both of us, and its getting too windy out now for you to be walking back to your house.”

“Besides, looks like you need another Scotch,” I laughed.

Ken laughed too, nodding in agreement.

“And, I’m enjoying our conversation, Brian. It’s been a long time since I’ve really talked with someone around here. You put me at ease.”

He peeled off his ranger jacket, and hung it up on the peg by the door. He still had his ranger shirt and badge on, and looked a bit uncomfortable.

“I’ve got an extra shirt that would fit you,” I said. “You’re off duty, now, and you probably want to lose the badge and get a bit more comfortable.”

Ken nodded, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Each movement of his fingers revealed more inches of fur and muscle, until he stood before me, stripped to the waist. His belly was hard with muscle, and covered with more of that red fur that covered his face. There was a thick line running down his belly into the front of his nicely filled jeans, and a thick pelt of fur covered his thick chest, with two fat red nipples poking out from all the curls.

I could smell his musky scent from his pits as he moved his shoulders to strip off his shirt. Thick patches of damp fur filled his armpits, and the curve of his shoulder muscles stood out nicely in the dimness of the one light bulb that hung from the ceiling.

“You’ve got a really nice build, Ken,” I said. “I bet you don’t have much problem getting laid around here, with a sexy body like that to offer someone on a stormy night.”

Ken blushed a bit, looking down.

“Well, its been a long time. I’m not much of a dater, and ... well, no one’s been asking, either,” he said, quietly.

“You look good to me,” I said, my mind thinking that maybe the Scotch and my half hard cock was doing the talking for me now. “I wouldn’t say no if you asked me.”

I blushed a bit then, realizing what I’d just said. I’d known Ken for maybe an hour, not nearly long enough to be talking about my sexual preferences, let alone asking him to sleep with me. Christ, me and my big mouth.

Ken was silent, looking down still, examining the floor.

“You mean that?” he asked.

Then, he blushed, turning away from me, the blush filling his face and then moving down to his chest, the red blending in with the red fur that splayed across his hard, now sweating chest.

“I wouldn’t turn you down,” I said. “In fact, you’ve been making me hard ever since I checked in at the booth. You’re the best thing I’ve seen for months.”

“Besides, its too windy to go outside now. You’re my guest, and I’m not turning you out on a night like this. At least stay for dinner and some more Scotch,” I said, my brain finally making some headway over my lusty cock and the effect of the Scotch on an empty stomach.

“I’d like that,” Ken said. “Dinner, and the Scotch, and,... and the rest of what you’re offering.”

We laughed then, the tension easing with the deep laughter that rumbled out of our chests, mixing with the roar of the wind and the surf outside.

I moved over to him, taking him deep in my arms, until his furry chest was pushed tight against my shirt, his muscular arms wrapped around me, pulling me even tighter into him. I could smell the Scotch on his breath, his beard tickling the whiskers in my goatee and the thickening stubble that crept along my jaw and up my cheeks.

We kissed then, gingerly at first, getting to know the feel of our lips on lips, and whiskers across whiskers. The warmth of his shoulders and back on my hands went straight to my persistent cock, giving it another boost, as it pushed against the new hardness in Ken’s jeans.

He held me away a bit, then slowly unbuttoned my shirt, his fingers exploring the fur on my chest, and, soon, my aching, hard nipples. Sweat rolled down my ribs from my armpits, the horny aroma of two men in heat mingling in the small cabin air.

His lips soon licked their way down and across my chest, taking in one nipple, and then another, until he moved up again, taking my mouth in his lips, pushing his tongue against mine, and sucking slowly on my tongue and my lips, raising my lust for him to a new level.

Ken eased me out of my jeans, slowly sliding the zipper down, and then, removing my belt, and then, my shorts, until I stood before him, bare assed and ready, my cock pointing towards the ceiling. My balls were tight under my cock, aching for release, aching for his touch, his wetness, as he took me and made me his.

His pants, too, soon joined mine on the floor, and then his boxers, damp with his sweat and the first bit of his man juice that flowed from the tip of his uncut manhood. His crotch was on fire with thick curls of red hair, nearly hiding his ample erection. I ached to feel that thick manly hair across my own face and beard, as I took him deep into my mouth, tasting him, working to raise his seed until it splattered inside of my mouth, and across my goatee and down into the fur of my sweaty chest.

We soon found the softness and warmth of my sleeping bag, throwing it open, our bodies already sweaty and hot. Soon, we were rolling around, exploring each other with every finger, our lips, and our hard, aching cocks.

He took me first, deep into his bearded lips, sucking and riding me until I came, quickly, spraying my seed into his wet, hot mouth and across his beard, until large gobs of my cum slid down onto his chest. I fingered up a large slippery gob of my cum and slathered it around one of his nipples, playing with him as he moaned and shivered in pleasure. His cock danced and he nearly came, as I played with his nipples, tugging on his matted, sweaty chest fur and tweaked his tits. I ran my fingers through his damp beard, playing with his moustache, and the coarse fur of his chin.

Then, taking my time, I moved down his hot, muscled chest and belly, until I came to the thick mat of hair above his cock, cupping his balls with one hand, as my other hand and my mouth finally took what I’d been wanting all afternoon.

Slowly at first, and then in the age old rhythm of two lovers, I took him deep inside of me, then danced around the tip of his manhood, sliding his foreskin up and down the deep purple head and ridges of his cock head, his slit oozing the nectar of his balls. Ken’s meaty hands grasped my ass cheeks and pulled my head closer and deeper to the root of his cock, as he thrust eagerly into my mouth, climbing to his first orgasm of this stormy night.

He came hard, his deep voice joining with the stormy gale outside, shooting his seed across my face and hair, finally soaking the thick red fur above his cock, and soaking the now shriveling hairy skin of his ball sack. His cum soaked the rest of his crotch, lubricating his hole for what we did next.

The storm raged all night, nature’s version howling outside, turning the ocean into foam and spindrift. We found bits of sea foam the next morning on the bark of the trees outside of the cabin, and even bits of seaweed on the trail leading to the beach. Limbs were knocked off, cluttering the forest with dead twigs and needles.

And, inside, globs of cum and sweat were drying on everything in sight, shrunken cocks, shriveled balls, now puckery nipples, and large canvasses of hairy limbs, torsos and faces. Spit and cum and sweat from every part of our bodies soaked into our beards and dripped onto our chests and down into our crotches.

The next morning, as the dawn came to the last of the rages of the winter storm outside, we joined again, taking each other again to moan and cry and to lose ourselves in the arms of our new found lover.

Finally, satisfied at last, we lay in the cum streaked flannel of my sleeping bag, sipping our coffee, our arms still holding on to each other’s shoulders, watching the morning light fill the room, and its chaos of scattered clothes and new found love.

First Light

2011-10-08T12:04:00.001-07:00

I felt the warmth from his back against my chest, as I started to come awake in the quiet of our bed. There was just a glimmer of soft pre dawn light coming through the window, as the last gusts of the first storm of October splattered some rain drops against the glass.

Tom lay on his side, the blanket and the sheet moving in rhythm with the last few minutes of his sleep, the heat from his muscular body flowing out between us, the funky smell of our sweat and the drying cum from last night’s love making filling my nostrils with its familiar odor.

We’d gotten pretty wild last night, and the shot of whiskey after dinner had loosened both of us enough so we could work on all the tensions we’d accumulated during the week. And, that had gotten Tom to grab my ass and pull me deep inside of him, pounding my cock hard against his hard butt cheeks, until we both had loosened a flood of a week’s worth of man juice.

It was a good thing we lived a few miles out of town, on the side of a creek in the middle of a big wood lot, as we both had screamed and yelled and cried out each other’s names as we filled the bedroom with the stench of our sweat and passion and lust, falling asleep in each other’s arms, as the drying cum matted the thick fur of our crotches and bellies.

He rolled over, still sound asleep, his heavily muscled arm now over his head, exposing the thickly furred armpit. The damp hairs glistened a bit in the growing light coming in from the window. It would be sunrise in another twenty minutes, but the light was strong enough now that each hair on Tom’s chiseled chest stood out, his nipples large and slightly swollen, in the midst of the dark hair that sworled around the two sensitive nubs, forming a thick pelt in the center of his now slowly rising and falling chest.

The sheet and blanket had gotten pushed down below his waist now, his thick cock draped over his ball sac, the larger head nearly covered by his foreskin, touching his inner thigh. Tom’s thick bush above his cock also glinted in the morning light, the black hairs shiny and curly, a few specks of dried cum white against the blackness of that jungle, a place my fingers, moustache and tongue knew so well.

His balls hung loose in their sac, each large stone shaping the loose, hairy bag, defined by the thin line of skin that separated his balls. A bit of drool oozed out from my lips, my brain remembering how he tasted last night, and how I kept running my lips and my tongue up and down his hard shaft, and the wetness of his cock head, my slow rhythm driving him to moan, and grip my shoulders with his large, strong hands, until his cock finally shot spurt after spurt of his pearly white seed into my mouth and splattered across his tightened furry belly.

Tom looked good enough to eat, again, as he lay naked on our bed, his cock now shifting a bit against his thigh, stiffening a bit as he finished his dream, and began to slowly wake. I’d usually wake before him, and watching his cock harden into his morning wood always stirred my own cock to stiffen. Lovemaking at dawn was our special time together, and we’d easily slipped into the routine of slowly taking the time to bring each other off, even before the coffee was made.

Tom hadn’t been much of a morning person when we first met, but after a few weeks of me taking his stiff cock into my eager hands, and wet mouth, and draining his balls, he’d come to appreciate our morning dance. And, he’d quickly learned what I enjoyed before the coffee brewed, getting his cream well before the java was poured.

I took in the view of his furry armpit, muscular chest and the thickening hair that marched down his belly to the thick bush of crotch fur, leading my eye to his growing cock and the delicious hanging set of balls dangling close to his hole. His cock pulsed a bit, as it grew, in time with his heart beat. In another minute, he would fully rise to his full height, a vein snaking its way up to the purplish head of his rod, his foreskin slipping down away from the thickening head and the growing wetness, as a bit of precum oozed from the little piss slit in the center of the cock head.

Sweat soaked my own armpits and crotch, and my balls rose eagerly in their sac, my own cock now hard and pulsing with anticipation of what we were about to do. Tom moaned a bit, like he always did just before he woke up, just before I’d slide my hand along his hardened morning wood, telling him in so many ways that it was another day, and that I loved him.

My hand moved over him, over the hard, muscular thigh next to me, my fingers pushing through the thick curls of his cock’s bush, until my fingers slid around his shaft, feeling the heat rising from his blood hardened shaft and skin, the sweat on my fingers mixing a bit with his precum, giving us a bit of lubricant for what was getting started.

In a minute, Tom was moaning my name, his fingernails digging into my shoulders, his cock juice a bit salty against my tongue, as I took him into my mouth, the whiskers of my beard tangling with his black pubes.

My other hand cupped his balls, now rising in their sac, the bristly hair rough against my skin, as he bucked his hips up a bit, and then down, matching my mouth dance. His deep moans rumbled deep in my belly and my chest, as I moved over him, sliding my chest and belly over him, letting me take him deeper into my mouth.

My hard, eager cock slid across the top of his now sweaty chest, my ball sac rubbing against the hairs of his beard. His wet tongue and lips snared one of my balls, drawing it into his mouth, as he sucked my sac, his hand gripping my cock, and sliding it up and down, matching the rhythm I was giving to his own, close to exploding, shaft.

Tom shifted a bit, easily moving me around across his chest, belly, and groin, until my cock was buried deep in his mouth, his tongue matching my rhythm.

We slowed then, neither of us wanting to end this dance, our lips and tongues losing their urgency. And, instead, we let fingers and hands and thighs move and slide, exploring each other, returning to familiar places, letting the pressure, the lust, build slowly.

We had no need to rush, this morning dance the only thing that mattered, and the only thing that needed to be done, now.

Moving again, and sliding around, lusty sweat and oozing cocks, and soaking wet moustaches and beards and ball sacs finding new places to dance, we found new rhythms, new songs to play.

Tom came first, big shots of jism rising out of his balls, and through his long, thick shaft, filling my hole with his seed, as I lay under him, pulling him deep inside of me with my feet gripping his hard, sweaty butt, mumbling his name and the names of the universe, until he slowly slid out of me, rolling onto his side.

He took me then, with one sweaty hand, slick with some of his own cum, and moved up and down. Oh, so slow, just like I was with him, when the morning light began seeping into the room, glinting on the soft, damp fur of my lover.

The Road Trip, Part 8

2011-08-10T21:34:00.001-07:00

for earlier chapters, please scroll down

This story contains graphic descriptions of gay adult consensual male to male sex. If you are offended by this topic, or it is illegal for you to read, please leave this site.

The Road Trip, Part 8

I awoke to the feel of Jim’s mouth enveloping my hard cock, his moustache and beard rubbing against my cock hair and balls, on the down stroke of his tasting of my cock, his tongue hard against my shaft, and the underside of my cockhead. As I looked down my hairy chest and belly, I could see his head bobbing up and down over my crotch, his muscled shoulders and back muscles rippling with his rhythm, the mounds of his meaty buttocks silhouetted against the dawn sky, white furred skin against a deep blue sky and orange-tinted clouds.

The early morning light along the creek bank lit the green willows along the creek that gurgled and flowed nearby, and I heard the songs of meadowlarks and red wing blackbirds, as Jim eagerly pushed and pulled up and down on my morning woody. His warm hand cupped my rising balls, as he gently fingered my sack, feeling my full nuts, and tugged on the coarse fibers of the rope he had tied against my balls and cockroot the night before, just before we fell asleep in each other’s muscular arms.

“I’m liking the way you are taking care of the cattle this morning, Jim,” I sighed, as Jim tugged again on the rope, sending new tingles of expectation through my groin, sending pulses of heat up through my chest and into my brain, my skin now on fire with anticipation of what Jim could do to me.

My lover then moved up higher on me, rubbing his beard through the fur on my hard belly and up into my chest, suckling and nipping my stiff nipples, paying equal attention to each of my red, hot tits. Jim quickly straddled my hips, and I could now see his hard, thick cock waving in the cool morning air, framed against the black curly hairs on his rippled abs and furry chest. He moved his hips and hairy groin down, his butt cheeks rubbing against my wet, hard, wanting cock, and placed my cock head against the tightness of the rosebud of his hole. Then, he eased me slowly into him, moving an inch at a time, until I was fully engulfed by my bear mate, until I was balls deep inside of Jim.

Jim’s thighs pressed against my belly and my ribs, his balls resting on my thick bush, their heat burning against my fur, each time he moved up and down on my cock, firmly gripped by his eager body. With each thrust up and down, I felt my cock head rub against Jim’s full, hard prostate, sending new pulses of desire through my cock and down into my balls, bringing me closer to the end of my morning love journey.

I looked into Jim’s face, his beard and moustache glimmering in the early morning light, his eyes closed in pleasure, as he climbed higher on his mountain of lust, his movements quickening with each thrust of his hips. With my finger, I ran along his lips, feeling his new moustache against my skin, rubbing his bearded chin, the whiskers now curling a bit, and becoming damp with his labored thrusts.

We had only been lovers these last two weeks, after we had set off in his son’s Mustang convertible, to travel across the country, so that we could deliver the precious car to the relocated son, and have a few weeks off from our demanding jobs in the city. We soon seduced each other, as we explored Jim’s new found gay sexuality, and as each of us explored each other’s bodies, and our inner sexual identity and lusts. Both of us had grown so much in this journey, and not just in the length and texture of Jim’s new beard.

My wandering hands played with his chest curls and hard nipples, and into his wet, furry armpits, his sweat filling my nostrils with his lusty, steamy wetness. I moved down to his balls, now tight against his cock, and then I gripped his throbbing cock with both of my meaty hands, surrounding his hardness, as I began to pump his manhood hard, in time with his thrusts, our flesh now fully gripping our cocks, as we climbed again to the top of the mountain, two horny, hairy men fully connected, as the sun began to fill the campsite with the first rays of its warmth, striking our rocking naked bodies, sweaty now with our thrustings, our need to release our cum, to greet the day with our gifts of love.

As we moved higher to our climax, Jim reached under him, and untied the calf hobbling rope that had gripped my balls and cock throughout the night, now releasing me so that I could join him in his climax, my cum now freed to rise from my full, horny balls, ready to shoot out of my needy cock.

Spurting inside of Jim, I shot again and again inside of him, feeling the explosion of his prostate and his balls, as he exploded onto my belly and chest, shooting long ropes of pearly white jism onto my sweaty chest, streaking my moustache and beard with one final shot of his seed. I finally opened my eyes, to see Jim above me, gasping for air, and grinning from ear to ear, as I felt his cock slowly shrink in my fist, its thick, manly weight still heavy in my hot hands.

We rolled over until my head was cradled by Jim’s strong chest, and muscular arms, as we regained our breath, and listened to the murmurs of the creek, and the early morning bird calls, the sunlight now strong against our naked skin.

“Morning, lover,” Jim whispered. “It promises to be another spectacular day for us bears.”

I reached over to pick up the now discarded rope, now damp with my sweat, and tied it around Jim’s large balls and now sated cock, using one of the knots that his Uncle Jake had taught me in one of our nights of lovemaking by the fire, back on the Colorado ranch.

“A little reminder of what needs to be done tonight,” I laughed, as I tucked the end of the rope against Jim’s thick hair surrounding his bull-sized balls.

Jim fired up the water for coffee, and we breakfasted by the creek side, Jim glassing the nearby prairie with his binoculars for the morning birds we had heard when we were rocking together, climbing our mountain. I took my camera out for a walk, finding some wonderful shots of this wild, free area, kissed by the summer sun.

We drove east across the prairies, camping that night by a larger stream, under a sandstone pillar, where early pioneers had camped, as they struggled to cross the country, on their way west to a new life. As we enjoyed our whiskey around the campfire, Jim played his guitar, and we sang cowboy songs, remembering those hardy pioneers and cowboys who camped here before us, singing the night away.

Jim’s rich baritone voice echoed off of the nearby rocks, his guitar framed by his hard, muscular furry chest and thick arms, as he strummed and sang the lonely, sad songs of cowboys, songs of hard work, and lost loves, and unrealized dreams.

As the fire burned down to coals, we began to yawn. It was time for bed. Jim stripped off his jeans and boxers, freeing his large cock and heavy cock head. As we hugged each other before we crawled into our sleeping bag, and kissed me hard, our chests tight against each other, Jim’s hardening nipples poked against my curly haired chest. I could feel his cock rise against my belly, the ball cinch rope I had tied onto Jim that morning scratchy against me. I pulled another short rope out of my jeans pocket, and quickly turned Jim around, pulling his wrists together, and tied his meaty hands together, thrusting his bare chest out. I ran my hands over his now sweaty chest, pinching his nipples and running my fingers into his wet armpits, tugging on the thicket of hair.

“Time for a little bronco riding, cowboy,” I whispered, as I took out my bandana and gagged Jim’s open mouth, cutting off his words. I ran my hand down his warm belly, fondling his growing cock and his roped balls. He stood watching me as I slowly undid my jeans and dropped them down over my feet, kicking them off to the side. I moved up to Jim’s bearded face, and began to caress his moustache and beard with my fingers.

Moving Jim over to the soft flannel of our sleeping bags, I dropped down to my knees, taking his furry balls into my eager mouth, exploring their fullness with my tongue, rubbing the hairs of his large ball sack with my moustache and beard. His cock swelled, his foreskin sliding off his now glistening, fat cock head, oozing precum, in anticipation of his buckaroo cumming. I opened a condom and rolled it down his fat, strong manhood with my lips and fingers, surrounding his shaft with the lubed, wet rubber, leaving room in its tip for Jim’s white seed, now gathering in his balls.

I rolled onto my back, and raised my thighs over my balls, opening my hungry hole for Jim’s hard cock. I scooted up to Jim, his ability to move cut off by the ropes tight against his wrist, his cock still gripped by the cowboy rope, his bearded mouth blocked by the gag. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, and pulled him towards my buttocks, and over my hairy belly and chest, his cock tip now hard against my hole. The wetness from my recent attention to his cockhead on the condom now soaked my rosebud, letting him slide easily into my hole, now twitching in eagerness for my own lustful need to feel him inside of me, once again.

I looked up to Jim’s hard pecs, thrust forward from the binding of his arms and wrists behind him, the outline of his muscles showing his masculine chest, his nipples hard with lust, his chest hair curled and sweaty from the tension in his shoulders and chest, and his hunger to cum inside of me.

I gripped Jim’s strong, immobilized shoulders and, with my open thighs, guided him inside of me, until his balls bounced against my butt cheeks, their furred sack rubbing against my fur. Jim’s firm belly now covered my own hard cock, his furry bush fondling and caressing my balls. With my heels dug into Jim’s butt, I started thrusting him into me, as I kept my hands firmly gripping Jim’s shoulders, so that he wouldn’t fall over, his hands helpless to hold him up, to continue our lovemaking.

The rough fibers of the cowboy cock ring around Jim’s massive, swollen cock pushed into the tender skin around my hole, each time Jim thrust into me, sending new waves of sensation up my spine, as I imagined the tightness of the rope that Jim was feeling, each time he thrust, his cum rising up against the rope, seeking release.

As Jim began to thrust his tied-up body into me, I could look into his eyes, Jim’s furry body above me, my hands holding him upright as he pumped again and again into me. Jim’s gagged face was flush with lust, eyes sparkled as he moaned, and winked at me. His furry belly rubbed hard against my stiff manhood, bringing me closer to my climax, closer to shooting my seed onto my hairy chest, and Jim’s heaving, rippling belly.

My bearded bear lover pushed again and again in me, guided by my thighs against the skin of his flanks, my heels dug into the hard contractions of his butt, as he pumped the full length of his ready cock into me, his rhythm pulling my cum from my balls, ready to explode. As we both neared our release, I pulled the stiff rope from around Jim’s cock and balls, and released the gag in his mouth, as Jim gasped and strong breaths of air now filled his swelling, heaving chest, close to my face.

We both exploded at the same time, torrents of cum pulsing, racing through our balls and into our cocks, sending bolts of white lightning across my brain, as I felt spurts of my cum soak the hairs on my belly and chest once again, as Jim filled me with his splashing of ball juice, sweat pouring off his chest and onto my fur.

I reached around to release his hands from the confines of the rope, and Jim embraced me in his strong hands, rubbing my beard with his now-freed fingers, tweaking my nipples, as we caught our breath. He slipped out of me, and as I pulled off his filled condom from his manhood, releasing the last of his cum to drip onto my hairy belly, and mingle with my own seed, gluing our furry hides to each other, as the moonlight shined on Jim’s strong, broad back, and my arm, as I pulled him into me, his chest hot against my now satisfied body.

He then rolled off of me, and we lay on the sleeping bag, looking at the stars overhead, seeing an occasional shooting star, and naming the constellations in the sky. The moon was about half full now, giving enough light to the meadow we were camped in and the nearby sandstone pillar, that we could see the distinct shapes of the grasses and the rocks. A breeze picked up, and Jim threw the top of the bag over us, and curled up into my chest, his warm breath against my shoulder, as we drifted off to sleep, the coals in the campfire nearly turned to a dull reddish orange, an occasional whiff of smoke scenting the night air of our bit of paradise.

The next day, we drove further east, and thunderclouds began to build in the southern sky, climbing high into the heat of the afternoon, until they turned gray, then black, building higher, and moving closer to us. We stopped to put the top up on the car, and turned on the radio, the announcer warning the state of possible tornados. We decided it was a night for a motel, and we pulled off the highway at the next little town, looking for refuge from the storm.

We pulled into a gas station, and filled the tank, the attendant kindly giving us directions to the only thing resembling a motel in this dying farm town, a man at the edge of town who occasionally rented out a studio apartment in his basement. He gave us directions and we drove up to the house, as the sky blackened to the south, bolts of lightning and rumbles of thunder rolling towards us.

A handsome man with a thick moustache and a goatee answered the door, and invited us in to check out the apartment. It suited us well, especially as the storm moved closer. The man introduced himself as Derek, and urged us to park in the garage, noting the tornado warning. As Jim parked the car, I took our bags to our room, and settled in.

Derek had invited us to the living room, to share a drink, and watch the storm roll in. We brought a bottle of the fine California Syrah that Ken, the winemaker, and our lover, had given us, and filled our glasses with the mellow red wine. As Derek sipped the wine, I took the time to enjoy his strong physique, his large biceps, his tapered chest, and his muscular shoulders, highlighted by his white tank top. Thick tufts of his blond armpit hair curled out from under his tanned, well defined arms.

I glanced over at Jim, who noticed my visual observations of our host, and gave me a wink, rubbing his tongue over his lips. I knew then that neither one of us would mind an evening in bed with Derek. As we finished our glasses, Derek refilled them with the last of the bottle, and he pulled out a bottle of one of his favorite wines.

“We’re not going anywhere this evening, especially with this storm, so we might as well have enough to drink,” Derek said. As he was bending over to retrieve the bottle from the wine rack, we appreciated his firm butt cheeks clad in his well-fitting jeans, and the tight cloth of his shirt on his muscular back. My cock stirred, as I began to imagine stripping him of his clothes, releasing his cock and balls to our intimate attentions.

As Derek began asking about our trip and our adventures, we heard a loud siren start in the town, its pitch changing, insistently waking the dead and stopping our conversation.

“Uh oh, that’s the tornado alarm. We need to head to the shelter,” Derek said, as he picked up another bottle of wine, and, carrying the two unopened bottles of wine and his glass, led us down the stairs to our apartment.

“Sorry to barge in on your room, but this is the safest place in the house to wait out the storm,” Derek said, as he sat down in the middle of the couch, and began to turn the corkscrew into the neck of the bottle.

“Hmmm, I wish I was that cork,” I said. “You’re a master at putting that screw into a tight fit.”

Derek blushed, and stammered, “ReaIly, I haven’t had a lot of practice.”

We took our places next to him on the couch, and enjoyed the wine, as Jim told Derek the clean version of our several days at Uncle Jake’s ranch, courteously omitting our various uses of the calf hobbling ropes and the Thai love beads, or the trussed up and stripped, bearded present we left on Jake’s bed the morning we left.

We asked Derek about life in his small town, and asked what people did for fun and culture. Derek quieted and mentioned that much of his life was pretty lonely. It was hard to find anyone to date. He asked us whether either of us were married, and Jim filled him in on his disastrous dating history, and hinted that he was done, once and for all with women. Derek seemed interested in this revelation, and I could sense he was also a gay man, struggling to find a life in this farm town.

The wind picked up outside, whipping around the walls and roof, as the afternoon quickly turned to twilight, the entire sky now black, flashing with sheets of lightning, and dark heavy rain clouds. The lights flickered, and Jim lit the several candles that were on the table, as Derek opened up his second bottle of wine. The lights flickered again, and went out, leaving us sitting in the semi-dark of the basement room, lit now only with a few candles.

“This may be a long night. This storm isn’t done with us yet,” Derek said.

I winked at Jim, and nodded, ready to make my move, my gaydar sensing that Derek wanted to know a lot more about what Jim and I did for evening fun.

“Derek, it’s really no surprise. Jim and I are lovers, and I hope that doesn’t offend you. But, we have discovered we love each other, and we are very satisfied with our relationship,” I said. Derek nodded, and said that he greatly respected my candor and honesty.

“There’s not much of that in this town,” he said. “There’s a lot of gossip, and a lot of back stabbing, especially if people sense that you don’t fit in.“

I put my arm around Derek’s shoulder, telling him that I understood, that I had grown up in a small town, and that I didn’t come out until I was safely living in a city, where other gay people had become supporters for all ranges of sexual diversity and lifestyles.

“Derek, we think you are a very attractive man, and,… well, we’d like you to share our bed with us tonight, if you’d like,” Jim said, as he put his hand on Derek’s jean-clad thigh, and looked into Derek’s blue eyes.

“I’ve never been with two men at once,” Derek whispered, swallowing hard, his face now damp with a bit of sweat, even though the room was cool. “There was a man in Kansas City, once, but that was just a couple of hours, and I was pretty drunk.”

“You’re not very drunk tonight, Derek, and we might as well put this power outage to some use, and get to know each other and have a good time,” Jim said, as he moved Derek’s hand over to Jim’s shirt. “Strip me, Derek, nice and slow.”

Soon, Jim’s shirt was on the floor, and Derek was exploring Jim’s furry chest and belly, licking his nipples, and rubbing his goatee through Jim’s beard and hairy chest. I untucked Derek’s tank top, pulling the cloth off of his muscular chest and back, lifting his arms high. As I pulled the shirt over his head, his hairy, damp armpits scented the air with his hot, eager, horny smell.

Jim and I made short work of Derek’s jeans and boxers, until his naked, firm body was sandwiched between our half naked bodies, our hands and lips moving over Derek’s eager, willing body, his cock meat large and thick, hard against his belly. His blond haired balls were tucked under his stiff manhood, swollen with his need to mate with Jim and me, as the thunder echoed around the house.

I rubbed my yearning hands over Derek’s broad, hard chest, his blond fur damp against his pecs, his reddish nipples responding to my touch by hardening to stiff points, as I tugged on the thick hair surrounding his tits, rubbing my fingers through his soft chest hair and into his wet, hot thatch of curled armpit fur.

Derek turned towards me, and began to unbutton my shirt, his fingers shaking with anticipation, lust, as he opened my shirt wide, gazing at my furry chest with hot, hungry eyes, and rubbed my nipples with his trembling fingers, until all three of us were touching our sweaty, furry chests against each other, lusty sweat filling the air of the room, the candles flickering, throwing large shadows of horny bears against the walls.

We took our time now, urging Derek to unbuckle each of our pants, and slowly unbutton our jeans, feeling our cocks through our shorts, and then slowly stripping each of us, one at a time, of the last of our clothes, letting Derek fully enjoy the sight of two hard cocks, eager for his love, in his house at the edge of his home town. At last, Derek’s wish for real man love in his home was his to touch, to grasp in his hands. As he pulled my jeans off of my feet, I saw Derek’s cock pulse hard, his foreskin stretched by his purplish cock head, oozing pre-cum onto his shaft, and down into the nest of his hairy balls.

We laid Derek down on the bed, as we began to circle his pulsing cock with our moustached lips and wet tongues, bathing his furry ball sack with our saliva, until the long blond hairs glimmered in the candlelight, his sack now firm against his cock, seeking release, trying to spill his seed onto his strong, lean belly, and the line of fur that led upward to his rising, wet chest.

I rolled a condom over Derek’s thick, pulsing manhood, leaving ample room in the tip of the rubber for his expected torrent of sperm, the heat of his shaft hot to my lips, as we rode his cock towards Derek’s climax. Jim quickly sheathed his own large, fat cock, and moved between Derek’s meaty thighs, spreading him wide, opening him so that his cheeks parted, and exposing his pink rosebud of his hole.

Jim squeezed a large dollop of lube onto his finger and wettened Derek’s hole, then pushed his soaked finger into Derek, preparing Derek’s virgin hole for Jim’s entrance, greasing Derek’s chute for Jim’s union with Derek, taking his virginity, and leading Derek into a new experience of man love.

As Jim pushed his hips further towards Derek’s hole, I moved to Derek’s side, and took his pulsing cock deep into my mouth, until my moustache brushed against the thick hairs of Derek’s cock root, the tip of his cock head hard against the back of my mouth, my tongue firm against his smooth, encased shaft. My head was pinned to Derek’s cock by the hard, hairy groin of my lover, Jim, as Jim moved into Derek, sandwiching me between my two bearded, horny lovers.

Derek reached down to my waist, and grasped my straining hard cock with his fist, and began to jack me, matching Jim’s beat into Derek’s hole, and my mouth’s pumping and bathing of Derek’s hot cock, as we marched higher and higher, each of us grunting and gasping with lust, our urgency to cum reaching the point of no return.

I cupped Derek’s full balls with my hand, Jim’s bush pushing into the back of my hand, as Jim began thrusting into Derek, and pushing my hand and Derek’s balls closer up to Derek’s cock root, closer to my wet, hungry lips, as I consumed all of this new lover’s cock.

My other hand wandered north onto Derek’s now heaving, gasping chest, toying with his nipples and thick fur, as Derek climbed higher, his seed now ready to burst from his balls and into his nearly sated cock, ready to consummate his lust with his new bed mates, his new lovers. Derek had thrown his arm over his eyes, and tilted his head back onto the bed, his goatee pointing upward, in the same direction as his cock, his face now sweaty, as he gasped again and again, moaning to achieve his release.

The sound of Jim’s pounding against Derek, and the slap of Jim’s bull balls against Derek’s butt cheeks filled the room with a lustful rhythm, as all three of us broke into a renewed sweat, as we climbed higher and higher towards our explosions.

As I moved a finger down below Derek’s balls, and pushed against his trigger, at the point between his ball sack and hole, Derek began to explode, his release setting off Jim’s eruption, and releasing my seed from Derek’s grip on my cock.

My cum raced out of my cock and onto Derek’s heaving chest, splattering against his nipples and finally shooting into his goatee, as Derek pulsed hard time and time again into his cock, filling the condom with his first three way cum.

A new wave of thunder rolled through the house, matching our collective gasps and sighs, our cocks now subsiding, as our cum drained from our balls, our sweat beginning to dry, Derek hugging us both, drawing our bearded faces onto his furry chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart, his fur warm against our skin.

The storm lasted all night, rising and falling, moving around, and crashing, with occasional explosions of lightning and torrents of moisture, again and again, until we were exhausted and fully satisfied. The storm outside lasted all night too, finally moving out as dawn broke, leaving us drained, but full of our bear love.

Business Trip

2011-07-18T21:42:00.000-07:00

I heard his key in the lock, and the bit of the warm summer air following him into the hall. His deep voice filled the still air of our house

“Hello, lover. I’m home.”

I’d just finished the last task of making dinner, and I turned just as he grabbed me around the shoulders and drew me close to him. His sweat filled my nostrils, a sweat of meetings, and airports, and crowded planes, and the heat of the car on the freeway. It was a good smell, thick with his pit soaked shirt, and the damp pelt of hair that splayed across his thick, beefy chest, curly hair swirling around those thick reddish nipples I knew so well.

Mike had been gone on business all week, and we had talked every night. I’d missed him, and I knew he’d missed me. Phone calls can’t make up for that early morning cup of coffee together, or that little bit of snuggling you do in the middle of the night, after you turn over and your lover is next to you, fast asleep, only the sound of his breathing in the room. Still, you put your arm close to him in the darkness, feeling his warmth, and listen to the rhythm of his breath, satisfied that he is inside your heart.

We kissed, his thick moustache and his soft beard against my lips, pushing into my beard, his breath warm on my face, his smell filling my nose.

“Ah, he’s home,” I thought. “Finally.”

“Welcome home, lover,” I whispered, letting my hands run down his muscular back, until my fingers found his hard butt underneath his dress pants. There’d be a pair of red silk boxers underneath all that tailored wool, and I’d find it soon enough, running first my fingers and then my wet, hungry lips across all the bulges, until I had the most important part half way into my mouth, the silk catching a bit on the edges of my ‘stache.

He tasted good, like that, almost hard and already leaking a bit of precum, turning the red silk to even a deeper crimson. I’d go slow with all that, pulling the boxers down a bit with my teeth, one hand feeling his hard butt cheeks, while the other hand played across his chest, and tweaked his nipples, keeping them hard and hungry for what was sure to come.

I was sure his tie was somewhere in his brief case, and the travel sweated dress shirt would soon be tossed on the floor, just before he slipped his hard, muscular body into the shower. He’d probably pull me into the hot water with him, slowly soaping me up, cupping my full balls in his thick fingers, as my cock filled with my hot, horny blood. He’d laugh then, his chuckles echoing off the tile, getting me to giggle a bit, about being all worked up, ready to cum again, spraying my seed across his thick curls. We’d have to get the soap out again, and start all over with getting clean. And, sometimes, I’d get him to shoot his load, and we’d stay in the shower until the hot water tank was drained.

That was Mike’s style, having fun with even the simplest tasks around the house.

“Dinner can wait a bit, if you want to take a shower,” I said, feeling his beard against my neck, his fingers rubbing my nipple through my t-shirt. I was getting a good idea of what he wanted for dinner, and it wasn’t the pork roast in the oven. I’d better turn the oven down to warm, just in case Mike was going to get frisky, before we’d even taken a sip from the glasses of wine I’d poured just before he arrived.

“Oh, yeah, I can wait for dinner,” Mike grinned. “But, I’d like to split an appetizer with you.”

His other hand had moved down from my chest, down to the front of the ragged gym shorts I usually wore around the house. They were frayed and sagged a bit on my butt, and Mike always teased me about wearing rags around the house.

He always dared me to run around the house bare assed. He himself was fond of an old pair of sweat pants, and it was hard to get him to put a shirt on unless someone was coming over, or he was stir frying something on the stove. I’d gotten real used to his thick, beefy shoulders and wide, deep furry chest as we went about the day’s tasks, or hung out on the couch together in the evening. I never could get enough of watching his hairy chest rise and fall, his nipples hot and juicy to the touch of my lips, every chance I could get.

That was the one way I could really get to him, playing with his nipples. If I could tweak them a bit with my fingers, and then suck on them with my wet lips and eager tongue, I knew I could get his cock to stiffen, and his balls start loading a big wad of cum. He’s let me know he liked that, too, what with him moaning and squirming around when I was really working his nips.

His pits would get soaked, too, with his hot, pungent sweat, as I worked his chest over, rubbing my beard across his thick chest hair, smelling his manly, spicy scent and the hot lust rising out of his dampening hairy pits.

Then, I’d run one hand down his hard stomach, down his treasure trail and under the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling his cock hardening, its thick uncut tip pushing against the cloth, hot under my fingers. I like to hold him a bit, enjoying him moaning, as I began to stroke him, slowly. Yeah, slowly. He liked it that way. And, so did I.

We kissed again, deep this time, holding each other’s heads with our hands, lingering over each probe of a tongue inside of lips, and dancing with the other tongue, wet and slippery. Hungry.

Hands worked at shirts, and shirt buttons, and pulled and slid, until we stood against each other, damp chest to chest, our sweat and our late afternoon pit odors mingling in the air of the kitchen. The rich smell of the roast in the oven and the newly opened wine I’d poured in our glasses added their own spices, to what was turning into a pretty hot meal.

Mike’s eager hand felt me, sliding up and down my old ragged work out shorts, until my cock was hard, pushing upward, my cockhead now slippery with my own juices, easing the friction of Mike’s slow stroking of my foreskin over the satiny hardness of me. A couple of his fingers danced through the thick nest of fur covering my balls and the root of my cock, his fingers working my balls until my sack was tight, pulled up against my cock, as my jism got ready to shoot.

He’s always known how to bring me right to the edge, and then back down, a bit, bringing my breath deep into my lungs, almost aching with the near pain of wanting to cum, and yet wanting to wait and savor this dance with my lover. I’d want to cum, so bad, and yet, I didn’t. And, as we danced, and he stroked me, slowly and then faster, and then slow, again, until I was almost dizzy coming to my release, again and again.

He’d dance with me like that, and lead me right out there, and back, until it didn’t really matter if I’d cum, even though that’s what my cock and my big, heavy balls tight under my cock were saying. It was the dance, that’s what I really wanted, and I didn’t want it to end, as long as I was dancing with Mike, as long as we were together, our hands or our mouths, or whatever we used to lead each other right to the edge.

We’d end up on the floor, or in bed with the sheet wrapped tight around us, our chests heaving, our crotches and bellies and balls sprayed with jism, lust sweat pooled in our furry pits and chests, slowly coming down from the mountain we’d climbed together, as lovers, as friends.

And, we’d laugh, laughing at the mess we’d left on the carpet or on the sheets, or the tiles of the shower, or, the hardwood floor in the living room, or the big swing on the patio. And, we’d laugh at what words we’d moaned when we finally reached the edge and exploded our seed deep inside of our lover’s ass, or in their mouth or across their sweaty, heaving chest, or inside of their slickened fist. And, once it was the big slabs of watermelon we’d used in a way you’d never see on a cooking show, the red sweet meat flavored with our own personalized spurt of protein.

“It’s good to have you home, again,” I whispered to him, as Mike started in on the appetizer, the appetizer he’d been thinking about for all this past week.

New Beard

2011-07-14T19:38:00.001-07:00

New

beard,

filling in, dark against jaw, chin

bristles now soft,

deepening fur,

rubbed across my chest

around my hungry nipples

then, down, down

wet, slurpy, tongue soaking

the trail down

along my hardening cock

my sweaty, nearly full balls,

until his soft breath felt cool

against the heat of my

hunger

to be inside of him,

my thick crotch fur rubbing soft

against his

new

beard.

7/11

Oral Sex Health Information

2011-07-03T11:01:00.000-07:00

I'm adding this link, as a reader has wondered about the risks of unprotected oral sex. Yes, there are risks.

link to CDC oral sex info page

http://www.cdc.gov/hiv/resources/factsheets/oralsex.htm

The Road Trip, part 7

2011-07-01T05:08:00.000-07:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult male to male gay sex. If you are offended by this topic, or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site. Parts 1-6 posted earlier.

The Road Trip, Part 7

He awakened me this morning, his furred mouth surrounding my hardening cock, as he slipped a condom over my swelling shaft and cock tip, to the edge of my curly hair encircling my balls and cock, his hot breath warm against my belly and thighs. His strong, rough hands once again familiarly pinching and rubbing my eager nipples, arousing me to want to shoot my seed again into my cowboy lover’s willing mouth. Jake’s other hand cupped my balls, rubbing each nut gently, urgently, moving them under the fur of my tightening scrotum.

Lost in this intimate attention to my manly tool and sack, I barely noticed Jake’s hand leave my chest, until his hand returned to my left nipple, slipping a clamp onto the tip of my now-hard nipple, squeezing the tender flesh, sending a bolt of electricity down my body and firing my balls with a mixture of pain and sexual stimulation. As the voltage dropped just a bit, and I started to let out the gasp of air I had sucked into my lungs when the clamp snapped shut, another clamp gripped my right tit, repeating the jolts of pain and pleasure.

I gripped Jake’s naked, furred shoulders, as I moaned, my lustful, painful cry filling the bedroom with my desire once again. This room had become my shrine of sexual delight and fulfillment, a place where Jake and I had made love, again and again, these last three days and nights, a place where his endless variations of lovemaking were carried out on and in my willing, aroused, insatiable body. I had lost count of the times I had climaxed, the dozens and dozens of explosions of my seed, my countless moans and cries of lust, ecstasy, and release.

Now, Jake was again showing me new pleasures, as the tit clamps brought my chest to a new level of sexual desire, the tightness of the metal clamps amplifying the pulses of excitement Jake was sucking from my cock, as he began to lick and pump my willing, hard cock.

By now, Jake knew so well my pleasure spots, my rhythm of thrusting and pumping, as he expertly brought me to the special place of anticipation he desired to bring me to, at any one moment. As I came close to my point of no return, he slowed, and gripped the underside of the tip of my cock, until the pressure to cum eased, my cock still demanding to be brought to my point of no return.

Jake ran his hand up my belly and over my now sweaty chest again, gently tweaking and pulling on the tit clamps, sending yet more bolts of pain and lust down into my balls, filling my brain with new, intense lust, setting my entire nervous system on fire, filling my brain with hot, white heat.

Again, he resumed his wet attention to my hungry cock, and I felt his thick fingers enter my hole, and move up to push against my prostate, again miraculously filled with my love juices after being drained by my lover just a few hours ago. Plunging down and sucking up my shaft, Jake brought me again to my point of no return, and then quickly pushed against my prostate, setting my balls on fire.

Just as my first shot of cum was starting to hurdle through my cock, Jake unsnapped the clamps on both my tits, releasing blood into my hot tits, and sending yet even more fire into my chest, and down to my balls, my entire body now ablaze with an utterly complete frenzy of sexual release, cum shooting once again into the tip of yet another condom on my erupting manhood.

As I began to regain some sense of consciousness in my spent and fulfilled body, Jake gently released my cock from his mouth, leaving my waning shaft to rest in the fur of my balls and groin. Jake licked his way up my sated body, his moustache and bushy beard rubbing against the hair on my belly and chest, until our beards mingled, his lips touching and kissing my lips, for the last time.

“It’s been quite a ride, cowboy,” I wheezed, still trying to regain my breath after this firestorm of an early morning orgasm. “This time together has been unbelievable.”

“I’ll never forget it, Dave. You’ve given me so much, you’ve been so open to all of my fantasies, all of my desires, all of my dreams,” Jake replied. “I want you to share these experiences with Jim, to teach him what real man love is all about.”

Jake talked about his hopes for his nephew, and his need to be a fully realized man. His nephew, Jim, and I were leaving today, to resume our road trip, and I began to realize how much these couple of days with Jake, in Jake’s bed, had taught me about my own body, my own sexuality, my own being.

We pulled away from the ranch house, Uncle Jake giving us a hearty wave from the porch, and Jim ran the gear shift of the cherry red Mustang through its paces until we were rolling down the road to the highway. Our visit to the ranch introduced both of us to the life of working cowboys, horse rides into pristine mountain meadows, and the lovemaking talents of buckaroos. My cock and balls still ached joyfully from the attentions of Jake.

“I didn’t see Tex on the porch when we left,” I said to Jim, as we turned onto the highway. “Did he go back to take care of his calves?”

Jim grinned. “No, not hardly. His calves aren’t much on his mind this morning. Tex is still a little shy about all of the male loving going on with all of us these last few days, and didn’t quite know how to approach Jake about wanting to screw him. So, after breakfast, Tex and I went into Jake’s bedroom, where he stripped off all of his clothes. I gagged and tied him up pretty tight, and then left him on Jake’s bed, naked as a jaybird. As we were leaving the house, I put a note on top of Jake’s coffee mug, that said we left a present for him on his bed.”

“I bet they’re having a helluva fuck fest right now,” I laughed. “Jake told me this morning he had the hots for Tex, too, but didn’t quite know how to get Tex into his bed.”

“I guess I don’t have to worry about my uncle being so lonely now on his ranch,” Jim chuckled. “He’s got a good cowboy to ride.”

We drove through the mountains the next several hours, until we came to a small town at the foot of the most rugged, massive peaks we had ever seen, and stopped at a large hot spring fed pool in the city park. Easing our aching bodies into the hot water, we both felt the sore muscles from our horse rides and work on the ranch flow away in the steaming water, as we took in the majesty of the granite mountains, and the clear mountain air.

That night, we camped at the foot of the Rockies, on the edge of the Great Plains, in a secluded little campsite by the side of a roaring creek. Both of us were tired, not only from our drive, and the horse rides of the last several days, but also from the long evenings of lovemaking we had both experienced at the ranch, me with Uncle Jake, and Jim with the foreman, Tex.

We’d both been willing partners, both wanting to try new lovers, and to expand our own lovemaking talents, knowing that we would come back together, each a richer, more confident, experienced lover, bringing the fruits of our sexual adventures back to our bed, giving our lover new delights.

After dinner, we sat in front of the fire, looking at the stars and the moon rising over the prairie, shining on the mountains, and sipped from a bottle of Jake’s whiskey he had given us this morning as we said our good byes.

It was a warm evening, and, as it was our tradition to always drink bare-chested, we had each stripped down to our shorts, my arm around Jim, holding my lover close to me. Silently, we watched the moon rise higher in the sky, and the fire burn down to coals, as we slowly sipped whiskey, enjoying its earthy, golden taste.

It was good to feel Jim’s skin next to mine, and there was enough light from the coals that I could admire his strong muscles on his lean body, thick swirls of hair covering his large chest and washboard belly. His broad, reddish nipples peaked out of the hair on his pecs, his thick biceps pushing into the hair on his chest as he flexed his arm to sip from the bottle.

I admired Jim’s beard, now about ten days old, noticing that his whiskers had begun to curl a bit, and that the new fur defined his strong jaw, and his firm, manly cheekbones. His new moustache was becoming the focal point of his handsome face, and the ends of his ‘stache could easily be shaped into an attractive handlebar ‘stach, one that I’d love to have rub all over my willing, eager body.

“I’m lovin’ your beard, partner,” I said. “It’s looking real nice on you. I hope you’re planning to keep it. I’d like waking up next to it every morning.”

“Yeah, I’m liking it, too. I’m comfortable with my beard now, just like I’m finally comfortable with who I am,” Jim replied.

We talked about our lovers at the ranch, and the desires and lusts those men had stirred up, and how they lovingly brought us to our urgent release, again and again. We spoke of their gentle, kind, and persistent attention to our needs, and each of us, in return, brought the cowboys to the pinnacle of their lust, releasing their seed from their needy, yearning balls.

“My times with Tex have taught me so much about real male sex, and I have so much more I can give to you, Dave,” Jim said, as he moved his arm around me, completing our embrace. “I understand myself so much better now, my sexuality no longer something to be ashamed of. Instead, I know my lust, my drive to be a great lover of men is a gift, and I need to be fully involved in lovemaking, not just a bystander.”

“These experiences with you, and with Ken, the winemaker, and with Tex have brought me out of my shell, and have let me realize who I really am,” Jim continued.

“You’ve given me so much, Dave, and now, for the rest of this trip, I want to give myself freely to you, to bring you joy, to be your complete and total lover,” Jim said, as he hugged me and put his furry face on my shoulder.

We talked about making love with each other that night, by the fire, under the moonlight. We’d both been on the receiving end of an incredible blow job that morning from our cowboys, and had cum more times in the last week than what seemed like our entire lives.

“Maybe we should rest up tonight, lover, and get some real sleep. We have the rest of this trip to get reacquainted, and to teach each other what we learned about what real men do on a ranch,” Jim said.

I agreed, sleep beckoning me, and we both stripped off our shorts and climbed our sleeping bags, zipped together by the fire.

As I laid back, looking at the stars, Jim moved around me, and I felt the rough fibers of a rope against my balls and cock, as Jim quickly tied a calf’s hobbling rope tight against my groin, encircling my balls, and my manhood, and causing my cock to remember one of Jake’s many lessons.

“Just have to make sure the livestock is secure for the night. We don’t want things to get loose before morning,” Jim chuckled, as he laid his furry head on my chest, and wished me a good night.

Lighting the Barbecue

2011-06-05T12:39:00.000-07:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult male gay sex. If this offends you or it is illegal for you to read, please leave this site.

Lighting the Barbecue

I lit the match to pile of charcoal briquets in the barbecue just as he walked out on the deck, a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“I got the promotion,” he laughed, a bit smile across his face. “We need to celebrate.”

We hugged, my hands gripping his strong shoulders through his dress shirt, and we kissed. He laughed again, setting down the champagne bottle and grabbing me in another giant hug. His fingers held me close to his thick, furry chest, the heat of the day rising from his shirt, sweat soaking the cloth under his arms and across his chest.

I’d been overheated when I got home, and had swapped my work clothes for a pair of shorts and nothing else. A cold beer had cooled me off a bit and I was ready to get into the evening.

“We need to cool you off a bit,” I said, my fingers loosening and stripping off his tie and then attacking the buttons, until the fur splayed across his chest and belly was open to the slight breeze coming across the lawn.

My hand brushed the front of his pants, feeling his cock. It had been a while since we’d made love, Steven putting in extra long hours for a couple of weeks, getting his big project finished. He’d been pretty stressed, and would leave before dawn, before our usual time together, making love slow and easy, the way we liked it.

I felt him swell a bit, and I slid his shirt down off his shoulders, and slid the zipper down, letting in a bit of the breeze to his now swollen cock, and the big, heavy balls that held his full load of seed. My tongue sucked at one of his stiffening nipples, my moustache and beard catching a bit in the thick pelt of fur of his chest, my fingers now pulling at his belt, getting his pants to fall to the deck.

His briefs, now exposed to the air, were swollen with his swollen cock, my tongue hungry for the taste of his wetness under his foreskin, my lips eager for the hot stiffness of his cock head. I knelt down, one hand freeing his legs and feet from his pants, the other hand feeling his butt cheeks under the damp cloth of his briefs.

Eagerly, I took his cock into my mouth, through the now soaked cloth of his shorts, tasting his sweat, and a bit of his precum. The musky, sweaty smell of his balls and his growing cock filled my nose, the late afternoon sun warm on my shoulders, as Steve moaned his pleasure at the work of my tongue and my hands.

I slipped his shorts down over his butt, and across his swollen, hard cock, and hairy balls, until they joined his pants. His foreskin had slid back, across his now hard cock head, behind the rim of his corona, his cock head red and throbbing. A drop of precum oozed from his piss slit, my mouth watering at what I would do next to him.

Steve’s big, strong hands gripped my shoulders, his warmth and his grip urging me onward, as I slid my lips across his glistening cockhead, and slid down his manhood, until my nose and my beard brushed tightly in the thick nest of fur above his cock.

He pulled me forward, so he could sit on the bench next to the hot tub, so he could focus all of his attention on the work that I was doing. The wood smoke from the coals filled my nostrils, along with Steve’s sweat and the yeasty, rich smell of his full balls and hard cock.

I slid up and down his shaft in a slow, easy dance, one hand playing with his tits and the thick fur of his chest, now gasping and sweaty with his lust. I cupped his heavy balls in my other hand, feeling them rising hard against the root of his cock. His voice, deep and eager, urged me onward in my effort to bring him to his first climax of the evening, taking his first big load of cum into my mouth, his last spasm spurting a thick stream of his seed across my furry chin and dripping down onto my own sweaty, hairy chest.

We stayed there, for a bit, after he’d cum, Steve gasping for breath, and me, swallowing his load, and holding his balls in my hand, feeling the thick, wiry hairs, and the blood draining a bit from his cock.

“Looks like the coals are hot enough to do some cooking,” I said, grinning at my naked lover, a bit of his seed trailed across his furry belly, back to his cock, draped across his thigh.

Cafe' au Lait

2011-05-31T07:02:00.001-07:00

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult gay man to man sex. If this content offends you or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.

oregonbear9@gmail.com

Cafe au Lait

The barista at the coffee shop in town had set us up, telling each of us that the other one was a nice guy and that we should meet. I was in there nearly every morning, getting my usual. And, Joani, the barista, mentioned him several times. I’d always put her off, being shy and not wanting to make any commitments.

She teased me about commitment.

“Having a coffee with someone isn’t a commitment,” she said. “It’s just having coffee and being social.”

Still, I put her off, not willing to show up an hour and a half later, when “Jeff” usually showed up. Joani wouldn’t set me up with someone who wasn’t even close to my expectations. She and I had talked quite a bit over the last several years about the “right person” and what we both expected in someone we’d be willing to date, or even get into a relationship with. I kept telling her I didn’t need this “Jeff” in my life, and not being attached was working out well for me. I was happy, I told her, again and again.

She’d just roll her eyes a bit and say that it wouldn’t hurt to have coffee.

“You might even like him,” she teased.

I’d been burned pretty bad, the last time around, and I didn’t want to put myself at risk for getting hurt again. My scars were still pretty big, and deep. And, work was good, I was selling a lot of my art, and several of my critiques of the local art scene had been published in the regional reviews. I’d even started teaching again, and my students seemed to be doing well with a little guidance from me.

I’d even gone back to painting the large canvasses, and working on trying to capture the early morning light on the main street of the town, the light coming over the mountains and the river. Life was good and I didn’t want to mess it up, again, with a boyfriend, and the roller coaster of an unhappy relationship.

Wednesday, I showed up at my regular time, wanting one of Joani’s great lattes, and her freshly baked orange scones. It was getting to be a ritual for me, getting some of her baked good a couple of times a week. I’d finished my workout before I headed out for coffee, so I could always rationalize the calories. I’d lost about fifteen pounds now, and turned more of my middle aged fat to a smaller gut and thighs that even had a semblance of muscle. My five day a week regimen was paying off, and I was even passing on the burgers and fries now.

The place was pretty empty, normal for a Wednesday, and I had my paper and my laptop under my arm, ready for an hour of the news and a bit of writing. The latte and the scone would fit right into that plan, a nice peaceful, solitary hour. I’d be spending the afternoon working on my new painting, and I had a student coming over at four. The day was looking to be a nice quiet, productive time.

Joani started my latte as soon as I walked in the door, and she asked how the painting was going. I had showed her a sketch last week and tried to tell her about the color scheme I was trying. She was a good critic for me, and she had a good eye for what looked good, and also what might sell. She had asked me to put a couple of paintings in the coffee shop, and I’d made some pretty good money after paying her commission.

She finished up the latte and took the heated up scone out of the microwave, and came around the bar.

“On the house, this morning, Greg. Provided you do me a favor,” she said.

“And what might that be?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. Joani wasn’t known for treating a customer, even an old hand like me.

“You need to meet a friend of mine, and share your time today with him,” she answered, breaking into a small grin.

She took the coffee and the plate over to the far table, and set it down next to a man wearing a black fedora. The hat covered most of his face, except for a salt and pepper beard. A nice thatch of chest hair poked out of his muscle shirt, which stretched across a broad, hard looking chest. The shirt was tucked into a pair of jeans, which nicely covered his tight looking butt.

“OK, you two,” Joani announced. “At last, you meet. Jeff, this is Greg. Greg; Jeff.”

“And, no leaving for an hour. It’s way past time for you two to meet, and I’m not letting either one of you out of here until you get to know each other,” she directed, setting my coffee on the table and pulling out the chair next to this mysterious, dark haired stranger.

My stomach churned a bit. Oh, I have to meet someone. This might be a date, I thought, feeling the old pain of rejection and hurt creep up my back, my armpits dampening my shirt a bit. I always got nervous at a date, anyway. But, the sudden blind date was a new one for me.

I’d get back at Joani for this, for setting me up. An ambush, really. She knew how I felt about dates and getting set up.

A big hand poked into my vision, interrupting my mental train of thought about what Joani was up to.

“Seems we have no choice,” the deep voice underneath the hat and the beard said.

“The name’s Jeff, and I guess we have to have coffee. Otherwise, Joani will never let me back in here,” he said, chuckling over his last words, a smile showing brightly under his thick moustache.

“I’m Greg. Well, I guess you know that,” I stammered, as a little more sweat pooled in my armpits, a bit of color flushing my cheeks.

We both laughed a bit, our awkwardness something we had in common, as well as both knowing Joani and enjoying her coffee and her friendship. Maybe not her matchmaking, but I was realizing we didn’t have a choice in that.

Jeff grabbed my hand, taking a firm grip. His strong fingers were a bit damp. I guess I wasn’t the only one who was nervous and bit out of his comfort zone here.

I sat down, grabbing my latte and taking a sip. Jeff was looking at me, taking me in. I could see him glancing down my shirt, eyeing the fur that stuck out of my collar, and the hardness of my chest, the shape of my belly. I’d been working out a bit, not as much as I should, but then, I took a walk every day, and kept the calories under control.

Jeff sipped his coffee, and I grabbed my cup, and took in the first sip of the still too hot coffee.

“Damn,” I muttered, burning my lip on the joe.

“Oh, sorry. Great first impression,” I stammered, my face flushing a bit with my social prowess coming out.

“Oh, don’t worry about impressing me. I’m known for jarring the lid loose on those damned ‘to go’ cups and pouring the entire drink down my shirt,” Jeff said. “You haven’t even come close to my standard of elegance in the coffee shop.”

We both laughed at that, and I set my drink down, taking a good look, for the first time at the man Joani had wanted me to meet. She knew I was gay, we’d had a few serious talks about that in a small town. Joani had a girlfriend, and it wasn’t a well kept secret around here. And, she was pretty vocal about people who ranted about a person’s sexuality and the people who used their religion to support their bigotry.

My mind raced a bit. Well, if she knows I’m gay and I am kinda looking for a partner, and she wants me to meet Jeff...

“So, Joani tells me you’re a writer. What kind of stuff to you write?” Jeff asked, his eyes telling me he caught me off in my mental dream world and not paying attention to him and the conversation Joani was wanting us to have.

“Uh, some essays, about nature and how we should take care of the Earth. I just published a book on bird migration in the area. And, some short stories. That’s what I’m working on now,” I said.

My mind wasn’t on my writing, and certainly not on bird migration. I was trying to settle down a bit, let the sweat cool in my pits, as I tried to settle down and just have a conversation with this man. Joani said we had to talk for an hour, so I better calm down and relax about all this. God, am I out of my comfort zone here.

“I’m a birder, too,” Jeff said, his eyes focusing on me, his lips curling into a smile underneath his moustache. “Yeah, I’ve seen your book. Even got myself a copy. Good stuff.”

We talked a bit, sipping our coffees, and I felt myself relax a bit. Jeff seemed like a nice guy. When he was taking a sip of his latte, I checked him out a bit, his muscular chest filling out his muscle shirt, and his nice firm shoulder muscles, tanned a bit from the warm spring sun of the last few weeks. He’d said he was on his way back from a workout at the local gym, and I could see he was serious about his weight training, what with his firm belly and the definition in his chest and shoulder muscles.

I like his moustache, its neatly trimmed edges framing his lips. He had a nice swath of day old stubble across his cheeks and jaw, thicker on his chin. There were a few flecks of gray and it could turn into a nice salt and pepper beard with a week of benign neglect. I figured he’d look good in a beard. Most men do.

Yeah, this could be a man I’d be willing to spend some time with, and not just to keep Joani happy. Having coffee with someone was nice, and I’d missed that, and a lot more. My cock twitched a bit in my pants, missing getting naked with a nice hairy man and getting the job done. Ever since Bill had left a year ago, I’d been hiding out from the world a lot, and the only relief I had was from my right hand once or twice a week. And, that wasn’t taking care of what I really wanted, someone to love and share my life.

“Well, Greg,” Jeff said, waking me out of my thoughts about my empty love life, “I think Joani was right. About us.”

“Yeah, I’m enjoying this. And, you haven’t jumped up and ran away yet, so I haven’t scared you off yet,” I said. “Maybe give me some time and I’ll give you a reason, though.”

We both chuckled, the last of the awkwardness leaving the table as we settled in with another sip of our coffees, able to enjoy each other for who we were.

The next morning, I met Jeff at the same table, my coffee and scone in hand. He greeted me with a big smile and a strong hand shake.

Yesterday’s light stubble had thickened up a bit, and there was a nice dark shadow of the start of a good beard across his chin, and moving up his jaw and cheeks. I could see where a week without the razor would give Jeff a respectable beard. My cock swelled a bit at the thought of feeling those whiskers rubbing across my chest, or up the inner part of my thigh, next to my balls.

I’d had a goatee and ‘stach for a year now. I grew it all out when Bill left me, and I’d liked the look. I’d never gotten a chance to try out the feel of my fur on a lover’s balls, or the underside of the head of his cock, but I’d be more than willing to give that a try. I still got grief from my family after I decided on a beard, but I’m my own man now, and certainly old enough to decide to grow some hair on my face.

Jeff had played big in my dream life last night, waking me up to a raging hard on and lust that wouldn’t stop. Imagining him slurping on my hard cock left me with a big wad of cum splashed across my belly, my right hand doing its lover’s job once again, just before the alarm clock went off.

He’d promised to take me to the gym this morning, and start a serious weight lifting program. And, afterward, we’d be taking a slow jog down along the river, and check out his favorite bird watching site.

All that didn’t seem like a date yesterday, as he had set out the details as we left the coffee shop. But, I was pretty nervous this morning, having a hard time figuring out which tank top and which pair of shoes to put on before heading out to coffee. I had to laugh at myself, being antsy and sweating a bit, about another coffee with Jeff.

“Geez,” I said to myself. “It’s just coffee.”

Yeah, and a chance to spend some time with a nice guy, a good looking guy. And, he’s probably gay. Otherwise Joani wouldn’t have set us up. She’s just trying to get both of us laid, and having a good laugh at the prospects of matchmaking the morning regulars at the coffee shop.

We hadn’t gotten to the sex stuff, yet, in our talk yesterday. Getting to the point of agreeing to meet again, and working out together, and checking out a good spot for birding was about as far as either of us wanted to go. Jeff was about as shy as I was, and equally nervous about the matchmaking that Joani was so obviously doing. This was still enough of a small town that neither one of us felt good about wearing a big name tag into the coffee shop announcing we were gay. Talk about looking for love in all the wrong places.

We got into our coffees, and talking about Jeff’s weightlifting program, and what we were going to do today. He was quite the expert on nutrition and metabolism, and warming up so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves. I’d been reading up on the subject, but Jeff had been living a healthier way of life for a couple of years, and was willing to clue me in on how to have a good time and still get into great shape.

I was feeling a lot more comfortable about all of this meeting stuff, and we joked around a bit, teasing each other about how we liked our coffee and the morning routine of coming to Joani’s for a cup.

My testosterone was enjoying the stubble on his chin and thinking what it would be like to pull down his shorts and play with his jock strap a bit with my teeth. I could feel the horny sweat pool a bit in my armpits. There was a light breeze this morning and Joani had propped open the door of the shop, letting the place air out a bit, giving me that nice contrast of lustful heat and sweat with the breeze. Still, my heart beat a bit faster, and my balls rose a bit inside of my jock, my lust focused on Jeff’s muscled frame and what lay underneath his muscle shirt and shorts.

We talked about our careers a bit, and why we’d both moved here, amazing ourselves on how similar our stories were. I decided to wade into the waters a bit and mentioned that my boyfriend had left me a year ago. Jeff just nodded, with a comment of how he knew what that experience was like.

My fear that he’s jump up and scream “faggot” to the assembled crowd of coffee drinkers didn’t materialize, nor did Joani come over and kick me out for coming out to another customer. All was well in the coffee shop, and the world didn’t end. My heart even slowed a bit, realizing that Jeff simply accepted my comment with a nod of his head.

Our coffee drained, we bussed our cups and the remains of our scones, and headed over to the gym. It was just a few blocks away and we walked together, continuing our conversation about weights and working out and the cost of a gym membership.

The workout was all that I’d expected, even feared. Jeff knew what he was doing and put us both through our paces. We hit the cardio machines for a bit, warming up and getting the sweat pouring out of my armpits, soaking my shirt. Then, we pumped iron, making a circuit of various machines and free weights, again, and again, until we had done three full sets. Jeff took my wobbly legs and arms back to the cardio machines for a final drill, telling me we needed to burn up the lactic acid left from all the weightlifting.

Finally, we headed to the drinking fountain for another big gulp of water, and back to the locker room.

“They’ve got a great sauna here. We should get in there for a bit, and let the rest of the lactic acid burn off,” he said. “You won’t be very sore tomorrow, if we do.”

We stripped off our sweat soaked shirts and shorts, and peeled off our jocks. I took in Jeff’s nice butt, his cheeks coated with a good dusting of hair. He leaned over to strip off his socks and kick off his shorts and sweat soaked jock, giving me a nice view of his dangling balls and the tip of his uncut cock. The hair sprouting on his face was just the appetizer for the thick pelt of curly fur splayed across his chest, under his arms, down his belly, and into the thick forest of fur above his cock and balls.

Beads of sweat sprinkled his chest, and groin, his armpits soaked with sweat. He smelled nice and ripe, a bit spicy, and his smell mixed nicely with my own pungent stink after our hour long workout. My muscles were yearning for a bit of the nice dry heat of the sauna, a nice reward for a good workout.

I’d enjoyed my workout a lot, working out the kinks in my back and really giving my major muscle groups a good workout. It was a lot better than the workouts I’d done on my own. Jeff was a good coach, patient, and knowledgeable. I’d be learning a lot from him, and certainly getting in a lot better shape.

And, getting some nice looks at Jeff’s lean and hard body as we spotted each other and worked our butts on on the cardio machines was just a nice added incentive to keep sweating.

I followed Jeff into the sauna, watching him lay out his towel on the wood slat bench and then plant his nice bare ass down on the towel, splaying open his thighs, giving me a great view of his furry crotch, and the long dangling cock draped over his loose ball sack. I could tell he was comfortable with himself, with his body, and not thinking he was the most studly man of us all. He had a way of making me feel at ease around him. My nervousness around him was becoming a thing of the past. I really could just be myself around him.

So here I was, bare cocked and bare balled, and with only a towel under my naked ass, sitting next to my new buddy. He knew I was gay, and he all but said he was. I was wondering where we’d go from here, if we’d be more that just the guys at the coffee shop or at the gym.

We had the place to ourselves, and I sat on the short side bench, about three feet away from this naked Adonis, my coffee buddy, and now my workout buddy. Having him in bed with me wouldn’t be a bad thing, not in a long shot, and a bit more sweat soaked into my already stinky pits with the thought of getting him there.

Even doing the coffee bit and the gym was enough for me at this point. That was a big step for me. I’d been out of the dating scene for so long, and living by myself was pretty much the norm for me. Still, my heart ached a bit, well, quite a lot, for some real companionship, and for some romance in the lonely hours of the night, when all a guy really wants is to feel a warm hand on their shoulder, or the warmth of another body next to him on a cold night.

“Ah, this is nice, real nice,” Jeff sighed, a few minutes later.

We had sat there in the semi darkness of the heat, letting the dry heat soak out some of our soreness, letting the sweat that was building up pool into some healthy streams of clear sweat. The stink of the workout was gone now, replaced by the clean sweat of the sauna, with a hint of the cedar of the plank walls, and the birch whisk that stood in the corner.

Jeff got up once and ladled a dipperful of water onto the rocks of the sauna, sending a cloud of steam towards the ceiling, giving the skin of our chests and backs a tinging, as the steam filled the room for a minute. In the dim light, his cock glowed, wet and steamy, dancing a bit above the two balls hanging loose in the heat. I wondered how my tongue would feel, taking in first one fat ball, and then another, rolling the stones around the flatness of my tongue, the hairs of his ball sack catching on my tongue, and the thick fur of his crotch hair catching in my beard.

I figured it would be a good thing, to take him deep into my mouth, and to suck his cock slowly, at first, until he was hard and panting a bit, his chest rising and falling eagerly, his voice whimpering that he was ready to shoot his load down my thirsty throat, as yet more sweat filled his furry armpits and glistened across his muscular, hairy chest.

“You’re a good man, Greg,” Jeff said, breaking my reverie on sucking his balls and feeling his seed splatter against the back of my throat.

“I’d like to take all of this further,” he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “A lot further. I think we’d be good for each other.”

I nodded, my words caught in my throat. I’d been thinking the same thing, yet hearing those words in the silence of the small hot room, scared me, scared me a lot. We’d have to get naked with each other. Well, wait. We already are. We should like to do the same things. Well, we’ve done some of that already. He’d have to like me. Well, I guess he does. I’m naked right now, so he must like what he sees. Enough, anyway, that he wants to go further.

“I’d like that, Greg. A lot,” I said, my voice seeming really loud in the darkness, next to his naked body.

We let that conversation hang there, in the air of the sauna, the tension easing from my shoulders. I knew, then, that we’d be fine together, that I could relax around him, and be at ease, as we spent the afternoon together in his apartment, slowly stripping off the sweatsuits and clean T shirts we had put on after we showered at the gym. We both took our time with each other, undressing each other and getting to know the nooks and crannies and little sensitive spots on each other’s bodies.

Jeff would run his fingers through my goatee and ‘stache, telling me how he’d wanted me to suck his balls and then his cock, and rub my beard through the fur of his crotch, and the underside of his hard, uncut cock. And, I’d suck him until he whimpered, and then shot a big load deep into my throat, the cum oozing out of my lips and down my beard, dripping onto his chest as I nuzzled him, my tongue tasting his nipple again, and listening to his heart beat, after he’d cum that first time, so deep and hard.

And, he’d straddle my chest and move down, until his furry ass rubbed against my aching cock, and letting me slide my cock against his hole and then, after I’d oiled him up with my fingers, letting me enter him, deep, his once-drained balls bouncing against the thick fur above my cock, bits of his last load flying out of his cock, as it bounced against my belly with each of his thrusts up and down my pole.

We both cried out our pleasures, and each other’s names, as I came that first time, my cock deep in his ass, as I looked up at my lover, his chest sweaty and gasping, his cock hardening again, as my cock head slipped past his prostate with each thrust.

Later, I ran my cum soaked fingers through his moustache and across his stubbled cheeks and chin, telling him I really loved a bearded man sucking on my cock. He rubbed his calloused fingers through my goatee then, wet with the first of his seed, telling me he’d be my bearded lover for as long as I wanted.

We cooked dinner together, that first night, slipping back into our sweats just long enough to stir up a three course meal. We found we both liked to cook, and we both had a love for good wine. With our plates empty, and the wine bottle gone, we tested out the idea of making love in front of the fireplace, and then on the patio, and then in the shower, until we finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, our cocks and our balls wet with more of our seed, and the last of the day’s sweat drying in the soft night breeze.

And, every day, after that, we still head down to Joani’s coffee shop, and sip the morning nectar, and laugh and joke about all that we have and all that we want to become.