Healing Bears - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The dream faded, but Terry kept his eyes closed, hoping to recapture at least some of the detail. He remembered being locked in an embrace with a softly-furred bear of a man, strong but well-padded. Inhaling his strong masculine scent, burying his nose in the thicket of dense blond hair that covered his chest, and then raising his face to be kissed. Soft growls and grunts were exchanged, and strong hands cupped his butt and raised him so he would not have to strain upwards to meet the bearded face that bent to his. They had done this so many times. He felt the other man's thick erection prod his ass, felt those hands gently part his butt. He sighed as he was lowered on to the straining cock. He remembered crying out in joy, or perhaps he had only wanted to. He also remembered a great feeling of familiarity, of ease and contentment. And then, as always, a deepening sense of loss and emptiness as the man slowly faded away, leaving Terry standing alone, groping for the man, reaching out, trying to touch, longing to connect. And then the dream faded away.

Giving up in his attempt to recapture the fleeing images, he slowly opened his eyes. He was surprised to see Craig sitting across from him, once again studying him with that grave, silent gaze. He started to speak and instantly realized that he still had the stiffie he always awoke with after the dreams.

“Ummm, sorry, I must have dozed off there.”

“Y'all were sound asleep. I hope the noise in the kitchen didn't disturb you, I tried to keep it as quite as possible. I didn't want to wake you. I got today's paper, I guess yours hasn't been restarted yet?” Craig rose and handed Terry the front section of the paper. He made no comment on Terry's erection, but the paper provided suitable cover for it. He sat back down.

“Thanks, man. No, I haven't called them yet. I can do that tomorrow.” He needed to pee, but he wanted to wait a few more minutes before asking Craig to help him up and to the bathroom so his dick had a chance to soften.

Craig resumed quietly reading his section of the paper. When he felt he had softened enough not to embarrass himself, Terry said, “Craig, I need to pee. Can you give me a hand up here?”

“Sure. Here, give me your arm.” With practiced ease, Terry was levered up out of the chair. “Just put your arm around my shoulder... yeah, like that. Put most of your weight on me, use me like a crutch. Can y'all manage that?”

“Yes. It's a bit awkward but I can manage.” Terry, the cane, and Craig hobbled to the bathroom. Standing in front of the toilet, Terry was suddenly embarrassed as he struggled with his left hand to open the snaps of his sweats.

“It's OK... here, I'll do it. No, don't let go. Next time, we can switch sides once you're steady and that will free your right hand.” Craig worked the snaps, hesitated, and then let Terry fish his cock out and aim. There was a slight pause, and then an impressive stream splashed on target. After what seemed like a very long time, Terry sighed deeply and tucked himself back in and struggled to re-snap, finally succeeding.

“Damn, that felt good. You know, that's the first time I've stood to piss in weeks! I hate bed urinals.” Craig guided Terry around to the sink and steadied him while he washed his hands. Terry turned slightly and said, “Thanks. You have no idea how much being able to do small things like that means.”

“No problem. That's what I'm here for. I'll get you back in the chair now, or we can sit outside for a bit; it's nice out, not too hot. Y'all can decide what you want for supper, too.” Terry indicated that outside would be very nice and Craig helped him out and into one of the two chairs on the small deck and set up a foot stool for him to rest his leg on.

“If you're OK here for a bit, I'll go shower up, then start supper.” Craig looked at Terry, noting the smile on his face. “You're really glad to be home, aren't you?”

“Oh, man, yes!”

“Well, y'all have a really nice place here. I'll bet you really missed it. You've made it very homey. Comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

Don't try to do any walking on that,” Craig said, indicating the cane. “You've done enough for today, I think.” Craig went inside and in a few minutes, the sound of water running told Terry that he was in the shower. He looked around his small back yard and was thankful for being home and thankful that he had such a competent, easygoing person to help him.

* * *

Later that night after supper, Craig sat Terry forward in a straight backed chair and carefully felt his knee as he slowly extended and bent the joint, and then held and felt while Terry gingerly did the same on his own. He watched carefully as Terry stood, first with a cane for support and then, carefully and briefly, without; and sat down suddenly as the knee gave way.

“Steady, there... easy. Not bad actually, not bad at all. They really did do a good job on you. Of course, there's some atrophy, that's to be expected. I know you have a PT appointment coming up, but there's nothing to stop us from getting started early with some exercises. It will make things feel better sooner, and loosen up the ligaments, too.” Craig looked up and smiled at Terry. Terry realized that it was the first time he had seen the handsome man smile. “You're going to be OK, man.”

Later that night, after watching some TV, Craig tidied up and then helped Terry to the bathroom again and then into bed. Looking around to the closet, Craig asked, “Y'all use jammies? Or just boxers?”

“Well, no, actually. I sleep buck.”

“Ah. No problem. It makes my job easier. If you'll sit on the bed, I can pull the sweats off easier. Wait, let me pull the covers back. There.” He lowered Terry to the bed, pulled the sweats off, and Terry pulled the top off over his head. Terry was very aware of the feel of Craig's warm hands on his legs as he removed the sweatpants, and was once again embarrassed by his cock, which was beginning to lengthen. Craig said nothing, though; and eased Terry's bad leg under the covers and pulled them up high enough so he could reach and adjust them to his taste.

“Good night, Terry. I sleep light, so just call out if y'all need anything.” He placed a glass of water within reach. “Sleep well.” With that, Craig turned off the light and stepped out of the bedroom, leaving the door open. In a moment, the light in his room clicked on and faded as he closed the door to his bedroom.

The stress and excitement of the day, plus being in his own bed again, combined to send Terry into a deep sleep almost instantly. Hours later he woke, suddenly alert. It took him a moment to realize that he was at home, in his own bed. He was comfortably on his side, facing the open bedroom door. He saw light from under Craig's door, and then the door opened and Craig padded out, naked, lit from behind by the room light. He walked past the bathroom, obviously heading to the kitchen. With eyes half closed, Terry was still able to see the thick man's body in detail. He was covered with blond fur, his butt nearly as thickly furred as his forearms. A substantial uncut cock jutted over his balls, which were largely concealed by a thicket of blond hair. Thick thighs and legs were also covered with blond hair. Terry stifled a gasp of appreciation.

Terry heard the sound of running water as Craig got himself a long drink of water. The sound of his feet padding back warned Terry to half close his eyes again, but Craig entered the bathroom instead. The door closed. Terry waited for pee sounds or the creak of the toilet seat, but they were absent. Shortly, Terry heard the soft but unmistakable sounds of a man bringing himself to a climax. Rhythmic stroking interspersed with faint grunts, and then the 'splat' sound of the first spurt hitting the water in the toilet, followed by somewhat fainter 'splat's' of the second and third spurts. Terry's head filled with an image of the hairy man standing there, legs apart and slightly flexed, back tense and butt cheeks clenched, as he shot into the bowl. The flush of the toilet, followed by the brief flash of the bathroom light before Craig flipped the switch, warned Terry to once again feign sleep. Craig padded past the open door and into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Terry's mind was filled with the images he had just seen and imagined. His own meat was rigid with need and lust, and he reached down and joyfully stroked. Finally! No restraints of potential interruptions by nursing staff intent on taking blood pressure or doling out sleeping meds. He stroked tip to base, and fondled his balls for a bit, then resumed stroking, alternating between just teasing the tip and going all the way down to the base. His breathing became erratic and he strained upwards. He knew he was going to make a mess in short order, the images of Craig's furry, thick body spinning in his brain and inflaming his libido. He willed himself not to make noise so as not to bring Craig in, who most likely had not yet fallen back to sleep. He was taking a chance, but what the hell... this was his home, his bedroom, his bed... and he had had no release for weeks.

His back arched, and his cock strained forward. The tension of his boiling ejaculation ran from deep inside his balls out along the underside of his shaft to the swollen tip of his cock and exploded out, soaking the sheet and his chest with heavy ropes of seed. He pumped out all the cum he'd stored up while in the hospital, in his mind coating the chest and belly of the blond bear in the room next to him. His ragged breathing subsided as his cock slowly returned to its normal flaccid size. Terry grinned as he felt the now-cold wetness of the sheet spread over his chest and belly. He must look a mess, but it would be dry by morning, and he could sit up and swing his legs out and be ready when Craig came in. If Craig said anything when making the bed, Terry would just say he'd had a wet dream. After all, he'd stored up a lot while in the hospital with no chance for release. A guy would understand.

Terry settled back into a comfortable sleeping position and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. His last thoughts were of the wet sheets plastering themselves to the cum-soaked hair on his chest.