In spite of Rusty's worries the casserole, as well as the rest of the dinner, turned out well. Wine and food were shared generously as was conversation, though Rusty noted Brian stopped at one glass and drank water after that. The two werebears filled Brian in on how they had met and what kinds of lives each had, had before they met. They deftly skipped over their introduction to the werebear life and their earlier adventure with Boris and his friends and the rogue bears.
“I'm sorry about your family, Moose,” Brian said as he cleaned his plate of seconds. “Do you ever hear from them?” Moose's answer was a tight-lipped 'No'.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to...” Brian still hurt from the rejection by his family. He could only imagine what it was like to have your own kids turned against you.
“S'OK,” Moose said softening back to his prior mood. “Water under the bridge, I guess… and I DO know one thing, I'm more at peace with myself now. I'm not under a cloud. I'm not trying to be something I never really was, not trying to fit into someone else’s image anymore. I'm happier, don't you think?” he said, turning to Rusty.
“Yes, my love, you are.” Rusty leaned over and gave Moose a kiss.
“Too bad I had to lose my kids in the process.” Moose frowned. To change the subject, Rusty offered more dessert, which Brian gladly accepted.
“You guys sure have huge appetites... I mean, I cleaned my plate twice but I couldn't keep up with you two!” Brian had lost his 'starved street person' look but to both bear's eyes, he still needed some weeks of good feeding to return to the ranks of the well-nourished.
“Well, we both have always had big appetites and my Norman, here, has that big body; and that needs a lot of fuel, you know.” Rusty smiled fondly at Moose. Brian insisted on helping clear the table and with kitchen clean up. Moose looked at Rusty, who nodded slightly. When they were finished, they adjourned to the living room and Moose broached the subject that was on both their minds.
“Um, Brian... we've thought about this and talked it out this afternoon; we'd like to put something to you. Instead of your going to the shelter, we'd like to offer you a place to sleep here.” Brian's eyebrows rose and his shoulders tensed. Rusty hurriedly interrupted.
“There would be no obligation, Brian. You're welcome to stay here. There's an unfurnished room downstairs behind Norman's treatment rooms, next to the bathroom and the storeroom for the cafe. There's plenty of room there, lights, power and a window.” Rusty said.
Then Moose continued “And we’ve got an airbed in the garage we take camping that we can set up for you tonight and a pillow and extra blankets, of course. I can get the futon couch out of storage tomorrow after work. It folds out so that’ll provide you with seating as well as a bed. There’s also a dresser, a couple of lamps, and nightstands I can grab.”
Brian was getting a strange look on his face and Rusty picked up on it, “You wouldn't be obligated to us in any way, Brian. The room is just sitting there empty and the furnishings are sitting idle in storage.”
“It's got walls and a door with a lock, plenty of privacy and it's pretty big. I was originally going to use it for a changing room for patients but it turned out not to be needed,” Moose continued, “you can stay here as long as you need while looking for a job and getting back on your feet...” The big bear looked at Brian, trying to gauge his response to the offer. “Like we said... no obligation. No 'houseboy' stuff.”
Brian was taken by surprise by the offer. He certainly had never expected to be offered a place to stay, even for a short period of time. Being invited for dinner was amazing to him but this was just unbelievable. He stuttered, “G – g – guys, I can't, I mean I... this is too much...I'm...”
Rusty impulsively hugged the embarrassed young man. “It's OK, Brian, in fact you'd be doing us a favor. Neither of us has had much time off from work since we opened and having someone on the premises at night would make it easier for us to get a weekend away now and then. This area's picking up but it's still kind of empty at night. If you'd be willing to keep an eye on things while you're here, that would more than pay us back for the use of the room.”
Brian looked from one bear to the other. Slowly, a smile started on his face, transforming it. “You mean it?”
“Of course we do!” Moose said as Rusty nodded.
“That'd be great!” Brian said happily. “And I could maybe install cupboards under those shelves in the cellar; finish 'em off real nice for you.” Brian's whole demeanor had changed, radiating happiness and optimism.
“It's settled, then. Moose, you want to take him down so he can settle in? I'll finish up here,” ignoring the fact that the kitchen was already clean. Moose nodded and he and Brian headed downstairs, with Brian talking animatedly about some unfinished cabinets he's seen at the hardware store earlier in the day. Rusty smiled to himself as the voices faded down the stairwell.
Later, the phone rang just as Rusty was passing the desk. He picked up the receiver, “Brown Bear Coffee Shop. This is Rusty.”
“Boss, this is Zach.” Zach's voice sounded echo-y and distant, obviously on a cell phone.
“Zach! Good to hear you. How's your dad doing?” Rusty had a premonition that Zach's news wouldn't be good. It wasn't.
“He's a lot worse than the last time, Boss. He won't go into the home, he takes swings at anyone who suggests it or brings it up and he's wandering now. I swear, I was in the can for five minutes and he snuck out on me. I looked everywhere, got in the car and drove around. About a half an hour later, the police brought him back.” There was a pause. “He was in his PJ bottoms and nothing else. The cops said they found him downtown.”
“Oh, that's awful, Zach.”
“Yeah, it sucks. I hate to do it but I've got to give you notice, Boss. I can't leave him like this, it's not safe for him and since he won't go to the home. Not yet anyway…”
“Zach, is there anyone there who can help with your dad? Give you a hand, I mean?” Zach was a kind young man but Rusty thought he wouldn't be up to caring for a 60+ year old dementia patient on his own.
“My sis isn't far but she has kids. She can't stay here and there isn't room for Dad at their place. I'll stay here with him for now and she'll come over and help with cleaning and cooking when the kids are in school.” Zach paused, then said, “I'm sorry, I really liked the job but I gotta quit. Dad... well, Dad needs...”
“Zach, don't worry about it. You take all the time you need. We'll get someone in to cover. Once everything gets sorted out on your end and if you want it, the job will be here for you.”
“Thanks, Boss, I really appreciate it. I just don't know how long...”
“Zach, don't worry.” Rusty felt for the kid, suddenly having to be a parent to his own aging father. “You're a good son. Your dad is lucky to have you. Take care of yourself and good luck, and don't worry about the job. Stay in touch, OK?” A loud crash in the background cut the conversation short.
“Gotta go. I think that was Dad in the kitchen. Thanks again.” Zach hung up and Rusty did the same, shaking his head.
“Who was that?” Moose was climbing the stairs just as Rusty hung up.
“Zach. His dad's bad. He called to say he would have to quit...”
“Ah, no! Poor guy”
“I told him to take whatever time he needed, the job would be here for him when things got sorted out.” Moose reached out and gave his lover a tight hug. “You're a good man, you know that?” Rusty sighed and hugged Moose back, holding it for a while, enjoying the warmth.
“Oh, he's all settled in. I gave him a set of sheets and the airbed. I’ll get the furniture in that room tomorrow. Rusty, he's really happy and grateful. He kept telling me he didn't know how to thank us. I don't think he's much used to common kindness.” Moose stared down into Rusty's eyes.
“I think you're right and if he works out, he'll not only have paid us back but he'll make it possible for us to take some breaks from work. It'll be good to know someone is around the place at night.” Moose nodded.
“Now, bed time for bears.” Rusty began pushing Moose towards the bedroom.
“Hey, it's only ten, why are we...”
“You remember my saying I had plans for that bear seed of yours?”
“Ooooh, whatcha got in mind?” Moose leered.
“You doing all the work, that's what!” Rusty slapped his paw over the light switch so that only one low lamp on a night stand was lit.
They stood, looking at each other in the low light, Moose's pants tenting in anticipation. Rusty growled low, a sound filled with both lust and authority.
“Strip me. Slow. REAL slow.” Moose complied, slowly unbuttoning Rusty's shirt and first easing his left arm out, then the right. He reached down and tugged the tongue of Rusty's leather belt out of its captive loop. He pulled it to the left and eased the tang out of the hole, then slowly, so slowly, pulled it out of all the other loops around Rusty's girth.
“Put the belt on the table,” Rusty growled. Moose complied. Rusty didn't often play the full-on butch dominant top bear. It was a treat when he did. “Now my pants.”
Moose opened the button on Rusty's pants and eased the zipper down, the sound it made wholly different in slow motion. The pants fell to the floor. He tugged the boxers down and Rusty stepped out of the clothes. His cock was fully extended, leaking precum, ball sack starting to snug up. Moose reached for the thick tube of bear meat. Rusty batted his paw away.
“No! You don’t get to touch that unless you’re told to... and I'll tell you when.”
Moose’s spine and balls tingled and he retracted his paw and waited for instruction, like a good boy. His breathing was becoming more rapid as he became more excited by Rusty's dominance and control. He began to change into his hybrid bear-human form.
“NO!” Rusty barked. “I didn’t say you could change, did I?” Moose contritely shook his head. “Stay human.” The bear fur that had begun to sprout through Moose's auburn pelt slowly receded. “Take off your clothes. Make it slow. REAL slow.” Moose complied, exaggerating the slowness, making his stripping into an erotic bear version of a striptease. “That's it. That's good. Nice and slow.” Moose's heavy cock flopped out of his pants, already half erect, as Moose lowered them and when he turned slightly, blood began pumping into the massive member, causing it to fully erect in a series of jerks. In only moments, he was fully hard, straining and his precum was flowing down the underside of his meat into his auburn crotch fur, instead of the more usual drips.
“I'm sorry. I can't help it. I can't make it stop.” Moose mumbled in mock contrition.
Rusty eased himself down on the bed, stretching out, legs apart with hands behind his head. His cock jutted upwards, not standing straight up but angled back towards the wall behind the bed. Moose started to join him on the bed. “Oh, no you don't. You've got work to do, big boy. Stand on the bed. That's it. Straddle me.” Moose stood and did as he was told.
“Now, jack off. You're going to shoot all over me and cover me with that hot, thick, sticky, creamy bear spunk you make... and you're going to tell me all about the first time you ever jerked off. EVERY detail. Leave nothing out. Understand? And...” Rusty paused and waited. Moose became visibly nervous.
“And? What am I supposed to do, I mean, while I'm telling you?”
“You are going to jack yourself, and you're to finish off telling me as you shoot all over me. Time it exactly. Got that?” Rusty put one furry foot up in the air, nudging Moose's sensitive nutsack. “ANSWER me! Got it?”
“Yes WHAT?” Rusty barked.
“Yes Sir!” Moose said. He was into the scene now, giving control to his mate.
He began to slowly jack himself, his thick foreskin sliding up and over his fat tip and then back. His nipples were completely erect, he reached up and played with them with the free hand, rubbing the erect tip of one with his open palm, then tweaking the other, twisting and pinching. “The first time I jacked off, I was in junior high school. I'd heard some of the guys talking about 'blowing their load' and 'beating their meat'. From how they were talking about it, I knew it had something to do with your cock but I wasn't exactly sure...”
Rusty lay back, listening to Moose's voice and intently watching his body, towering above him. The visual image was more important to him than the story itself, the words of which drifted in and out of Rusty's perception. He saw the tops of Moose's size 14 feet, covered with the same auburn hair that covered his lower legs and calves. The calves were thick, almost knotted with muscle. He let his eye travel upwards, noticing how the knee caps protruded slightly and how the hair thickened there, then thinned a bit as his eyes moved up the thickly muscled thighs. He imagined the feel of those trunks of muscle and fur as they pressed on him when they made love, the feel of the warm soft hair and skin under-laid with firm muscle. He imagined the wide feet, the toes digging into the mattress to give something to push against as he tried to drive deeper into his ass. His eyes continued their upward climb, seeing the long stands of dark red hair hanging down from Moose's scrotum, jiggling as the base of his fist hit them on each downward stroke. The skin, barely visible under all the hair, was a darker rose color than Moose's skin elsewhere. It was wrinkled, the ridges and furrows of the thermo-elastic muscle underneath showing through.
“I had to wait until my mom went over to the neighbor's house before I could get to the bathroom to try it out. We didn't have any Vaseline but there was some hand lotion in the kitchen on the sink, so I squirted a lot of that in my hand and went...”
Rusty watched as Moose's big paw slowed down, only moving slightly up and down the shaft, the foreskin barely retracting from the tip. The entire tip as well as a good 1/3 of the foreskin was wet and sticky with the clear precum that Moose continued to leak. Ropes of it hung down and when they reached Rusty's thighs or scrotum, detached and puddled, only to be followed by more of the sweet sticky fluid. The thick shaft, with dark red hair growing up the base and half way up the length, was rigid and pointed upwards. The crotch area was matted with thick dark red hair, spreading side to side as wide as Moose's hips and extended down under the scrotum and down the inside of his thighs. The base of the belly was as thickly covered and the belly itself was very nearly as thickly furred. His belly was rounded and ample, not quite a ball belly but still substantial without being obese. Not soft and juggling, but harder, being solid muscle overlaid with a layer of bear fat. The backs of Moose's hand were covered with fine lighter red hairs as were the knuckles of each finger. The fingers were blunt and think, competent-looking, one paw curled around the cock, the other hanging at Moose's left side, occasionally traveling up through the fur of his belly to a nipple to stimulate it. His forearms were covered with the same lighter red fur but the chest shared coloring with the belly and crotch, dark red. The slabs of each pec carried a thick, erect, rosy nipple that was almost lost in all the fur. The bushy beard blended in with the chest hair, auburn and curly. From this angle, the thickness of the beard obscured Moose's face unless he looked directly downwards.
“I knew something was gonna happen soon, I could feel a tingle in my cock and something else I'd never felt before. It was... something... I felt it all over and I knew I couldn't stop it but I didn't want to. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to pee but it wasn't exactly like that and then it started...” Moose's paw flew over his cock as his body tensed and his butt muscles clenched.
“Yeah, you big fucker, fucking COVER me with that bear cum, shoot it ALL over me like you did in your bathroom, cover me like you covered the floor!” Rusty shouted as Moose's fist was flying up and down his shaft, pumping hard. He grunted and his ball sack tightened up even more. His legs shook and he threw back his head and roared as he shot rope after thick rope of bear cum, splashing across Rusty's furry body below. Face, shoulders, chest, belly, crotch, legs; just about every exposed part of Rusty was criss-crossed with sticky white streaks of cum. Moose shuddered as the last squirt hit Rusty's thigh with a splat and he squeezed out the final drops out and he shook his still rigid cock. He looked down, mock worry on his face.
“Was I OK? Did I finish on time?”
“Did I say you were done? DID I?” Rusty's soft voice was filled with a pretend menace.
“No. We aren't done, I know that. What should I do now? What do you want me to...?”
Rusty interrupted Moose's protests. “This cock of mine, see it? See how hard it is? See how it's all ready to shoot? You think I want to just shoot it anywhere? You think that wall back there is a good place for all this hot cum you've caused my balls to churn out? Huh? DO YOU?” Rusty nudged Moose's scrotum with his foot, the sack still snugged up, still not relaxed.
“Then you need to get down here and sit your furry ass on it. You NEED to fuck yourself on my pole. You need to fucking impale yourself on my meat. You need to have my cock BURIED in your ass and you NEED my hot seed deep in your gut! Tell me! SAY IT! Do it...do it NOW!”
Moose squatted over Rusty's rigid meat and centered the tip against his hole. “I NEED you inside me. I HAVE to have that thick hot meat of yours buried in me, stretching me, opening me up. I NEED your hot seed in me... deep inside me. PLEASE shoot in me. Fill me, bear!” He made sure it was correctly positioned and then sat down, hard, driving the stake deep into his insides. Rusty gasped and yelped as his cock was enveloped by the near searing heat of Moose's rectum. Moose's eyes rolled back in his head as Rusty's fuckpole penetrated deeper than it had before, deep, deeper, past his prostate and inwards. Rusty's balls were pinned by Moose's ass cheeks.
“Fuck yourself on me,” Rusty hissed and Moose began an up and down, semi-rocking motion, moaning and almost whimpering with the flood of sexual ecstasy that pounded in his whole body. Rusty grunted with each downward thrust and groaned with each upward pull. His balls were squeezed each time Moose bottomed out, sending a thrill through Rusty's groin and making him shake with pleasure. Rusty's cock was sheathed in the heat of Moose's gut. His tip tingled, and the whole shaft was alive with the feeling of friction, pressure, and the sheer joy of being deep inside his lover. Still, Rusty tried to surge even higher up inside his mate's ass. He reached out and gripped Moose's hairy thighs and gasped, “Gonna CUM!” and he started shooting deep in his lover's ass. “Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop!” he cried, as wave after wave of passion shook his body and Moose sat down hard one final time. Moose groaned out loud, rising in pitch as he felt the flood of heat of his lover's sperm shooting deep within him.
It felt as if time froze for both bears. The room was now silent except for their rasping breaths. Gradually, they returned to more normal heart and respiration rates. Moose looked down. “Did I do it right? Was I good? Was I a good boy?”
Rusty motioned with his arms for Moose to sink down onto his cum-soaked fur and lay quietly. “You were wonderful, Norman. Everything I could ask for. My good bear. Shhh... rest now, you worked hard, you've earned a rest. Shhh. Shhh… Rest now, my stud bear… rest, my love.” Rusty gently kissed Moose's mouth and cheeks. They lay together as sleep overtook them both.
- - - - - - - -
Brian closed the door after Moose said goodnight and gone upstairs to his partner. 'I wonder what they're doing up there,' he thought. He realized he knew next to nothing about gay life. Was it all sex? Did they fuck constantly? Did they argue, like his parents did? 'Maybe they just sit around and watch TV.' His own few experiences were unsatisfactory, fleeting and unconsummated; or worse, painful and dangerous. But the fiction he'd read surreptitiously had made it out that gay men either fucked or thought about fucking all the time. Moose and Rusty obviously had lives and businesses and did other things, normal things. Was that what gay life was? Maybe they didn't have sex, or maybe their life was something else entirely?
The airbed was already inflated. Plenty of warm covers and a large soft pillow sat atop it waiting to be used. It was quiet, light from the industrial light fixture attached to the backside of the building filtered into the room from the high windows. Someone would have to be on a ladder to look in on him. This was the most privacy Brian had experienced in his short life. Even at home his little brother had shared his room and when he was old enough, Brian had moved into his own bedroom, but it adjoined his parents', and the walls were thin.
Later, in his dorm room at college, being in the end room which was larger than the others in the building meant that instead of one roommate, he had two. There NEVER seemed to have alone time and what little he had he made good use of. After being disowned he’d had to take whatever accommodation he could get. Shelters had no privacy and the streets certainly weren’t private. You were exposed on every side and there was danger everywhere. Here, he was completely alone and secure, a great luxury; and he could literally hear a pin drop, if he’d had one to drop. Here, no one would run him off or try to roll him for what he had, or beat him.
He sighed. The generosity of these two men, two GAY men, was greater than he’d ever expected. When it came down to it they, perfect strangers, had treated him with more kindness and more humanity than his own parents had. They trusted him in the span of a single day (not that he’d do anything to betray that trust) but they were either very gullible or very wise and could see into people like no one he’d ever met outside of his Granny.
- - - - - - - -
He remembered how Granny had taken him aside when he was just a boy of no more than ten. She’d asked him about who he liked; if he liked girls or boys. When he hadn’t answered, because he wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by ‘liking’ she offered, “You like boys, don’t you Brian?”
“Yes.” he’d answered.
“More than you like girls?”
“Yes, Granny.” he’d answered, puzzled at the direction of her questions.
His Granny pulled him into her arms, hugged him close and said, “Brian, I want you to know I will always, ALWAYS, love you no matter what! There’s nothing about you I do not love; you’re a kind and gentle soul, but you have to understand a lot of people won’t love you if they find out that you like boys better than girls. It’s a sad thing, and I think a shameful thing, that people are this way. No one should be treated poorly because they’re different, but they are; it’s the way of the world.” She looked into Brian’s eyes with great love and a touch of sadness. “Brian, I fear you have a hard life ahead of you, unless you’re careful with whom you share your difference. You should learn to think about what you say before you say it. Consider how people will take what you say. You need to be more cautious than you are. You shouldn’t tell anyone about liking boys, unless you feel you can trust them with your life, because it may just be that grave a matter. Do you understand?”
“I think so, Granny.” he’d said.
She gave him a look, seeing deep into him, to see if he truly understood. She nodded. “Good!” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Now go and play; there’s enough worry in the world and you shouldn’t be burdened with it just yet.”
- - - - - - - -
Musing, Brian finished making up the airbed. He missed Granny. Of course he’d never imagined that Granny ever meant for him to be wary of his own parents, but upon reflection, perhaps that was exactly what she had meant. Still, the weight of his secret no longer burdened him, even at the cost of his home.
He picked up the covers and put them to his nose. They smelled of closet and storage, but also something else he couldn’t quite identify. As he breathed in through the soft cotton something in him stirred. He inhaled deeply a second time, lingering over the strange but faint and enticing odor. For the first time in quite a while, Brian was becoming aroused and full of need. He was rock hard in seconds and his balls tingled with the promise of a good jack off session.
Brian dug through his meager belongings and found the small jar of Vaseline. Most of his belongings served multiple uses – backpacks only held so much. This helped with wind burn, chapped lips, kept the zippers on his packs working well, but it also provided him with occasional sexual release. He dug out some of the paper napkins he’d been hoarding, kept dry in a well-worn gallon sized ziptop bag.
Brian thought Rusty was a good looking man -- he smelled good, not floral or anything, but not ‘woodsy’. Rusty kinda smelled very faintly like some sort of berries. Maybe it was his shampoo or the way whatever cologne he wore interacted with his body chemistry and Brian found him very attractive, rather sexy actually. Moose, now -- he desperately wanted THAT man to touch him. He smelled… well… manly. He smelled how Brian thought clean, well groomed men should smell. He had a faint ‘musk’ scent, which was warm and comfortable; it made Brian tingle at the back of his head and down his spine. He’d brushed up against his thick red arm fur and the feel of it against his own somewhat less thick hair sent shivers of excitement through him. When he’d first met him this morning, coming down into the basement Brian had been rather startled, but immediately Moose had disarmed any feeling of threat his size might project. It was this combination of monster and teddy bear that tickled at the back of Brian’s brain, but there was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on just yet.
Brian finished making up the bed and had almost gotten into it, when it stopped cold. 'I can be naked!' he thought with pleasure. For the first time in a very long time he’d be able to sleep nude. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and as soon as his cock was free, his left hand was pumping his stiff member. Brian wasn’t huge by any means, but he wasn’t small either. His cock was an inch or so above the top of his fingers when he gripped it. It felt so good. It had probably been a month since he was hard like this; the last time had been in that abandoned barn, up in the loft. It had been the last time he’d felt safe enough to take care of his sexual needs and fantasize. Stress and not being able to take care of his health had kept him reluctantly celibate, and frustrated.
He lay on the bed, spread his legs and began rubbing his cockhead, now exposed as he had peeled back his foreskin. He scooped a finger of the petroleum jelly and coated his cock. He reached down with his other hand cupped his hairy balls. His bush was thicker than most guys his age. He’d slyly checked out the other guys in the showers at school and learned that he was above average for body hair in general, but had an especially thick bush. The guys had teased him about it and told him to ‘trim the shrubbery’, but Brian told them they were just jealous, that he was more man than they were, which seemed to shut them up.
As he relaxed, his thoughts drifted.
He imagined holding a young, mostly hairless man of his age to his own furry body. The young man was a fair haired wiry amalgam of guys he’d showered with. He’d given him the name ‘Broc’. It sounded manly but not old. Because it had been awhile, the fantasy was particularly vivid and he was really getting into it. Brian was caressing him from behind with his hard cock nuzzled to his smooth ass crack, kissing his neck with his bearded lips, tickling him with it. He could almost feel his dream man shiver with excitement. He brushed Broc’s smooth young face with the back of his furry hand; the young man kissing the hairy knuckles. He reached down with his hand and began stroking his soft young man as he began humping into his ass. He would moan in pleasure as Brian took the lead and began entering his imaginary lover.
Brian pulled the covers up to his face to wipe sweat from his brow and he pushed his face into the cotton cover and breathed deeply.
And then, there was a sudden shift, an unexpected intrusion into his usual fantasy.
Moose flashed into his mind, opening the door to the room, staring down at him not quite approvingly. He stood before him naked, covered in red body hair Brian had only guessed at. His mere presence and turgid member compelling service from him; to swallow his huge cock down to the root. Brian’s fantasy boy disappeared and in his mind he kneeled wordlessly before the great red bearded beast as Moose had silently demanded. Trembling, he took the thick cock into his being. Moose gripped Brian’s skull and began to thrust savagely down his throat.
“That’s it! Gonna skull-fuck the crap outta you, boy! Yeah! Fuck yeah! Gonna fill your belly with my hot jizz.”
Brian was getting extremely close to cumming. It had only been minutes, but he was young and was more than overdue for release. In his mind he begged Moose to feed him.
“Fuck yeah I’m gonna feed your face; gonna feed you my seed and then I’m gonna flip you and fuck your ass until you scream for me to stop!”
Fantasy Moose growled and cursed, shooting hot loads into Brian’s waiting throat and Brian swallowed as fast as he could, taking every drop of sweet cum.
…and that’s when Brian lost it. He shot all over himself, coating his hairy chest and beard in shot after shot of hot seed. He cried out in pleasure, louder than he had wanted to and held his breath, still pulsing out cum into a sticky pool that filled his belly button. He listened, afraid that he might have disturbed his hosts. He slowly let out his breath, listening a little longer, but there was no sound outside the room and no indication Moose or Rusty had heard anything.
Brian lay there content, having had one of the best orgasms he’d ever had. It was one of the most intense he’d experienced and for the first time, it had included another hairy man. Brian had always sort of been drawn to guys who were hairy, he especially had felt a kinship to them since high school had brought about his own transformation; but until now, he’d never thought about sex with a hairy man. When he thought about other hairy men, he had thought of them either in non-sexual ways or fucking their own smooth young passive men. He’d always imagined his smooth young man in bed with him; snuggling up to him and holding him like a living plushy toy. This vision of Moose that he’d had felt odd, startlingly so, but not in a negative way. He didn’t quite know what to think.
Maybe it was that Moose had been so friendly to him or could it be that he’d just needed a good jack off? He didn’t quite know what to make of it, but at the same time he wasn’t going to argue with results either, covered as he was in his own sperm. If he was developing a taste for hairy guys like himself, he’d just add that to his fantasy repertoire. Maybe next time Moose would force Broc over the edge of a couch and fuck him while Brian fed his other end?
He grinned, “That’s a story for another time.” Brian said softly to himself in the night’s stillness.
He’d calmed down and cooled off and reached for the bag of napkins. He began cleaning himself up. He realized quickly that he’d probably need to shower because he smelled like sex from head to toe. He opened his door quietly, peering out cautiously into the dark hallway. There were no sounds from above, so he quietly slipped into the shower and rinsed off. He toweled off dry with the one he’d used earlier in the day and slipped quietly back into the room.
He lay there for a while thinking about what Rusty and Moose would think of him if they knew he’d fantasized about sucking Moose off. 'Well,' he thought, 'they don't have to know.' Brian continued to think about his new-found fortune and security; eventually, he fell into a deep sleep.
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The clock on Clyde Valmer’s desk read 10:11 pm as he looked up from the paperwork. The lights were low in the richly appointed office. A tumbler of 25 year old scotch sat not far from the desk lamp.
Clyde had gone over the deed at least half a dozen times; it was right there, plain as day and so simple he was sure there was something he was missing, but he couldn’t find any loophole, it was iron clad. The old man had disappeared 30 years ago, had not checked in 10 years and per the terms of the contract if the old guy didn’t show up every 10 years to renew (and he hadn’t as of yesterday which was the deadline), the property ownership would pass to the current tenant provided the property was occupied for a year and a day past the deadline date.
Of course Barrington, or a duly appointed successor, could show up and nullify the transfer and the terms would just continue to roll on ad infinitum.
Barrington himself had been a successor and Wells before him and Bertrand before him and Keats and Mathiesen and on and on back to the deeding of the land by the territorial authorities before statehood. Barrington HAD appointed a successor; O’Keefe… but no one had heard from him in the last ten years either. The key point to all of this was the final line; “if the property remained vacant for a year and a day, on the following day the property ownership would pass to the most senior member of the law firm managing the legal affairs for the current owner.”
Valmer smiled and took a sip of scotch, it was SO smooth. If only his grandpa Kustas could see him now, senior partner at Valmer, Jefferson, Wyeth, Upton and Fipps! Grandpa didn’t like or trust lawyers, mistrustful immigrant peasant that he was. America had been good to the young man from Estonia and even better to Clyde’s father, Henry; and it would be even better to him because, in about a year, that valuable piece of property would be all his and he had plans; big, lucrative plans. The present 'occupants' wouldn't be a problem for much longer, he thought, with a slight grin that never quite reached his eyes.
All the time and effort in manipulating things to become senior partner had been worth it, he thought, as well as great fun. Ever since he had stumbled across the oddly-provisioned will in one of his surreptitious visits into the firm's vault files, he had worked towards becoming senior partner. Legal backstabbing and office politics were second nature to Valmer, and the judicious application of 'persuasion' was all part of the fun. The old guard had been turned out to pasture, or had somehow found it in their best interests to retire earlier than might have been expected, leaving the field to Clyde. His father and grandfather would have been proud. Well, actually, his grandfather definitely wouldn’t have been and his father might have turned a blind eye if it meant a better station in life for his son, but no matter, they were both dead and in their graves.
Spurred on by the USGS report he'd run across, he had become fixated on acquiring land in the area. Buying up businesses or ruining them financially was almost as much fun as office politics was, or at least it had been until he hit the seemingly immovable wall of the current tenants of the land the homeless shelter stood on. They simply would not be bought out, and so far had successfully resisted Clyde's firmer methods of persuasion. 'Well, that problem would soon be solved.' Valmer thought, as he took another sip of Scotch.
He opened a hidden safe and took out a burner cell phone. He called Keith… a call that would mean a good chunk of money for a special job, if he was up to it, and he was pretty sure he would be; Keith needed money and wasn’t in a financial position to say no. Losers like that always needed money and there were plenty of them; if Keith couldn’t do it, another pawn would make himself available. He began to punch the numbers into the keypad.