Chapter
8
They pulled into Flagstaff late that afternoon.
Sam gave Mike a call to let him know he was in town and a half hour
or so they were at Grizzly Mike's Desert Choppers.
Mack
parked and the pair got out of the SUV. Grizzly Mike's was in what
appeared to be a fairly new building. Mack gave a low whistle. "This
isn't just a hole in the wall sorta place, is it?"
There
was logo on the side of the building of a golden grizzly bear in
biker gear riding a chopper in a large sideways oval. In embossed
silvery lettering that looked like chrome the words, "Grizzly
Mike's Desert Choppers" encircled the oval.
"Nope.
Mike's done well for himself but he's had help. He's got a good
design head on his shoulders, but his partner Larry is the one that's
handled all the business... that allows Mike to concentrate on the
talent end of it. Just now, Larry's away on a business trip lining up
shows, promoting product lines and the like. Mike's shop used to be
in a dinky little rented place 'bout five miles from here; last ten
years his place has become the
place for custom bikes for the entire Southwest. He was even offered
TV series by one of the cable companies, but he turned it down.
Mike's not the kinda guy who likes the limelight. He goes to the bike
shows, Daytona, Sturgis, LA, Las Vegas of course, but he keeps his
appearances to a minimum. He's not a recluse, but he's a little
camera shy," Sam said.
They
walked through the roll up garage doors into the heart of the shop.
Sam looked around approvingly. It was a busy place. Eight to ten guys
were working on four bikes in various stages of completion. Over in a
corner of the shop next to a row of completed scoots stood a huge
gold-blond bearded man with a long blond braid hanging down to just
below his butt. He was talking with a shorter, stout but muscled man
with a full black beard and tattoos from shoulders to wrists, hair
tufts poking out around the neck of his T-shirt. The blond man was
wearing wraparound mirrored sunglasses on the top of his head and a
glint of gold at his left earlobe signaled that he wore a small,
simple gold earring. He was puffing on a double bent pipe, holding
the bowl and gesturing with the stem like a pointer. He wore a light
gray Harley T-shirt stretched across a barreled chest. The sleeves
were literally ripped off showing off his huge tattoo-covered
muscular arms and golden fur. Worn jeans and black bike boots and a
belt with a huge silver grizzly bear buckle completed his attire
below the waist.
He finished speaking with the other man, put the pipe back in his mouth and re-lit it, tamping it down. He looked up from his pipe at direction from the shorter man who pointed as he spoke and from across the shop he bellowed out "Sam!" He said something to the other man and moved around the row of bikes and moved quickly to meet with Sam. They clasped arms in a biker handshake and drew each other into a strong tight hug, still clasping each other's arms. Mack had followed and stood close. After exchanging pleasantries with Sam, Sam turned and introduced Mack. The blond turned to Mack and offered his hand and said with the pipe stem between his teeth, "Good to meet ya bro', I'm Mike." Mike clasped Mack's arm in the same way he'd clasped Sam's and drew him into a hug only a little less strong than the one he'd given Sam.
He finished speaking with the other man, put the pipe back in his mouth and re-lit it, tamping it down. He looked up from his pipe at direction from the shorter man who pointed as he spoke and from across the shop he bellowed out "Sam!" He said something to the other man and moved around the row of bikes and moved quickly to meet with Sam. They clasped arms in a biker handshake and drew each other into a strong tight hug, still clasping each other's arms. Mack had followed and stood close. After exchanging pleasantries with Sam, Sam turned and introduced Mack. The blond turned to Mack and offered his hand and said with the pipe stem between his teeth, "Good to meet ya bro', I'm Mike." Mike clasped Mack's arm in the same way he'd clasped Sam's and drew him into a hug only a little less strong than the one he'd given Sam.
He
released Mack and turned to Sam, "Your bike's done. Completely
repaired and with a new paint job. Here it is now!" The stocky
black bearded man was wheeling a bike toward them.
"Ho--ly
Shit!" Sam said. "Mike... when you said ya'd fix it for
free, I wasn't expectin' complete rebuild an' face lift! It looks
brand fuckin' new! Man, you better let me pay you for that, I just
said ya could fix it."
"Fuck,
no an' bull shit! You're not payin' me a cent for that and you didn't
define what fix entailed; 'sides this was a labor of love. Me and
Sparky here enjoyed takin' your fallin' apart piece of shit bike and
bringin' it back to it's full glory. Besides, bro'... you know I
can't charge you, I owe everything I am and everything here to you
and Big Ronny; you two are dads to me, more than any of those
scumbags my mom fucked around with... and Sam, you showed me what
bein' a man means. Now, how could I charge you, ever? You bring that
bike to me anytime, it's on the house," Mike said and then said
with great pride, "It's 'n honor and no one knows more about
bikes in the whole Southwest, you know that." Mike fixed Sam
with a stare that said, 'I'll hear no more of this' as he puffed on
his pipe.
Sam
visually relented buy slumping his shoulders, "OK, you win."
"Good!
'Bout fuckin' time you let me do something for you, you stubborn ol'
cuss." Mike smiled. "How 'bout you take it for a spin. I've
padded the seat a little more than you're used to, should feel good
on the road."
Sam
threw a leg over the bike and had a seat. It was a thing of beauty.
It wasn't the beat up iron horse he'd considered putting out of it's
misery when he brought to Mike to buy a new one. Hell, it had been a
stock model and remained that all it's life. Sam had never felt the
urge to customize it, but it was obvious that Mike felt it needed a
full custom makeover. The stitched bears and bear paws on the black
leather seat, the paint was metallic glittery black with silvery
flames that stretched back over the tank and mud guards. There was
gold pinstriping and lots of custom chrome. The front had cast and
chromed bear claws adorning the wheel's hub. The shift was a chrome
bear's head and a bear's head sat between the handlebars with the
headlight in the bear's open mouth.
"How
long you been working on this?" Sam asked, looking at all the
custom cast pieces.
"A
few weeks." Mike answered with a straight face.
"Bull
SHIT! The headlight and the shift are more than a few week's work
alone." Sam said.
"Well,
those... I'd been thinkin' about doin' your bike for a few years now
so, I've been workin' on the wax models for awhile. Cast 'em in brass
and chromed 'em." Sam gave him a look. "What? I'm workin'
on a new line of 'animal totem accessories'; bald eagle, wolf, bear,
snake, bull, boar, lion... stuff like that. You got the grizzly
prototype." Mike tapped out his pipe and started filling it
again. "Now, just give it a spin and I'll see ya back in a few,
OK?"
Sam
sighed. "I s'pose there's no sense in arguin', is there?"
"Nope,
you'd just be wastin' yer time," Mike said as he puffed clouds
of smoke while lighting his pipe.
"Right.
Well, I'll be back in a bit then," Sam said. He put the helmet on
and fired up the bike. It roared to life with power Sam had never
heard from the beast before; his shocked look had Mike laughing and
Sam flipped him off when he saw he was being laughed at. He eased out
of the garage and headed off down the street.
Mike
bent toward Mack and said, "Wanna know a secret?" and he
laughed again.
"What?"
Mack asked.
"I
put a surprise in that seat of his, easily removable, but something
that he's not going to notice for a couple of blocks." Mike
grinned.
"Surprise?"
Mack looked a bit worried.
"Nothin'
that's gonna harm him, son." Mike said, "The ol' bear is
ridin' on a 'joy seat'... I placed a firm silicone half egg in the
seat, right in the place where his crotch drapes over it. It's
positioned so that the vibrations will stimulate the area between his
hole and his nuts."
Mack
had used a vibrator in that area on himself before and had shot all
over himself in just a couple of minutes.
"I
think he's not gonna be too happy with you for that prank." Mack
said.
"Nope!
In fact, I'm countin' on it. He'll probably come back here in ten
minutes with a big wet spot on his crotch, madder than a wet hen."
Mike smiled.
"But
why?" Mack asked.
Mike
took the pipe out of his mouth and whispered in Mack's ear, "'Cause
Papa bear grudge fucks better than any man I've ever been fucked by
in my life." Mike moved away from Mack's ear and then said,
"''Sides... I owe him for a prank he and Larry played on me a
couple of years back."
Mack
looked around the shop. The men were all larger, hairy and well
muscled. Some with more padding than others, but all looked powerful.
Mike noticed Mack's appraisal.
"They're
all hand picked, son. Each one of 'em is a 'brother', if you know
what I mean," Mike winked.
"You
mean everyone here is... gay?" Mack asked quietly.
"No,
not all of 'em, a lot are bi and married or have an ol' lady, but
each of 'em have known what it's like to feel like they're the only
guy out there who is into bros. None of 'em talk about what they do
with their bros when they're on the road or when they're hangin' out
with each other," Mike said quietly. "They work out in gym
I built on site. It's free to all employees an' part of our company
'health plan'. It's brought 'em all closer together. They workout
together before or after work and they've bonded in a way that's
different than just working together. The place is just more...
friendly-like now; and damn, but the eye candy is good, ain't it?"
Mack
nodded. There was the angry roar of a Harley coming down the block
toward the shop.
"That'd
be Sam. Make yourself scarce, he's a beast when he's mad. Worse still
when he sexed up and mad!" Mike said and gleefully rubbed his
hands together.
Sam
pulled into the shop, killed the engine, propped the bike up and
dismounted. He tore his helm off and handed it to Mack, "Mack,
go grab somethin' to eat," Sam said in an even tone. There was a
small wet spot on the front of Sam's crotch. He looked at Mike,
"You!" His voice raised just slightly and had a growling
tone to it; Mike was laughing. "Office! Now!"
Mack
stood there watching as Sam muscled Mike into his own office and drew
the blinds. The stout black bearded fellow who had brought the bike
out stepped over and offered his hand, "I'm Rich". He too
took Mack's arm in a biker clasp and hugged him. "But everyone
calls me 'Sparky'. Look, your ol' man and my boss are gonna be in
there awhile. How 'bout you and I go grab a late lunch. I haven't had
food yet."
"Sounds
good, what's around?" Mack asked.
"Great
diner about a mile from here, why don't you hop on my scoot, I'll
take ya," Rich said. The two left with Mack looking over his
shoulder at the closed office door.
The
noises coming from within the office sounded fierce. The thud of a
piece of office furniture, growls and grunts, the crash of what
sounded like a trash can being kicked, all spoke of a real struggle.
Everyone
working paused, but all knew better than to disturb the boss when he
was 'entertaining'. This wasn't the first time noise had been heard
coming from the office. If a customer were to come in while it was
going on, one of the guys would quietly escort him to the showroom
offices where the up-front staff could take care of him.
“Damn
me but I am going to make you pay for that little stunt!” Sam
yelled at Mike.
Mike
laughed, “You and who's army, old man?” as he circled around,
keeping the desk between himself and the angry bear. “You liked it
and you know it! Lookit the evidence!” Mike pointed to the growing
wet spot on Sam's jeans.
“Why,
you little pissant, mother fuckin', evil, disrespectful li'l SHIT!”
Sam lunged across the desk and caught Mike's gray tee shirt and hung
on. Mike turned and grinned and slithered out of the Harley shirt as
it tore. His thick blond fur was beginning to mat with sweat, his
braided ponytail flicking drops of sweat, swinging.
“Heh...
not so easy, is it old man!” Hearing that, Sam roared and chased
Mike around the desk again. He caught the blond bear's thick black
belt and yanked hard, popping the buckle in front. The ragged work
jeans Mike was wearing partially gave way next. Mike stumbled and
Sam, seeing his chance, pounced. The chase turned into a wrestling
match complete with torn clothing and animal sound effects. Sam lost
his shirt, and his heavily furred torso dripped sweat. His muscles
had grown larger as he wrestled and the seams at the crotch and along
the outer thigh gave up and split.
“It's
payback time, cub!” Sam had managed to pin the big blond bear on
the floor and was struggling to mount him. His great cock was swollen
and red, dripping precum. The resistance of the bear under him only
made his organ more engorged. He worked his cock in between Mike's
hairy butt cheeks. He loved this just as much as Mike did.
Secretly
pleased with the success of his trick with the bike's seat and the
effect it had had on Sam's libido, Mike growled and pretended to be
angry, and struggled, but not so hard that he'd break Sam's hold. The
whiffs he got of Sam's ripe pits excited his groin, his meat swelling
almost painfully. Paws gripping the rug, legs kicking and scrambling,
Mike growled, “Do your worst, you old fart!”
“Fuckin'
A, I'm gonna do my worst. I'm gonna punish that sorry ass of yours.
Gonna fuck it and you into next week, PUP!” With that, Sam shoved
his thick pole deep into Mike's sweat-soaked butt. Mike howled.
Mike
thrashed and grunted and howled again, as Sam's meat penetrated his
clenched ass. The thick blunt tip forced its way through the hair,
and gradually widened the opening into Mike's tunnel. Sam's ram
battered its way deeper, the thick shaft working past the muscle
ring, pumping in deeper and deeper. Mike struggled; but, truth be
told, the struggle involved more pushing back onto Sam's huge meat
than anything else. The two huge bears grappled, like the fur covered
animals they were, growing more heated and urgent in their coupling
as Sam increased his pumping. Mike knew Sam like this rough play and
knew that his 'struggle' was an essential part of it. The more he
struggled, the better Sam liked it and the more intense and
satisfying his breeding became.
Sam
suddenly gripped Mike especially tight around his chest and shoved
his cock in as deep as he could; grunted loud then roared louder,
hollering, “Shit FUCK! Your ass is MINE!” Sam clung tightly as he
unloaded deep in Mike's blond ass. He continued to pump, driving
daddy bear seed deep into the bear ass he was dominating. Sam ground
his thick beard into Mike's hairy back and neck and slowed his
fucking. As the last spurts topped off the load in Mike's filled ass,
he stopped. Rasping breath and the occasional grunt as one bear
settled on the other were the only noises that came from the office
now; and outside, work once again resumed at a more normal pace.
Both
bears were soaked in sweat and panting and as Sam slowly pulled out,
a gush of hot bear seed followed. Sam reared back on his knees and
Mike struggled up. He turned, facing Sam.
“Glad
to see you can still get it up, you old fossil,” Mike said,
grabbing Sam's slippery shoulders and pulling him in tight for a
prolonged snog. The two broke the kiss and Sam laughed out loud.
“Damn
right and don't you forget it, kid!” Sam got to his feet and
extended a hairy paw to Mike, Mike gripped his forearm with his own
paw and raised himself up. “You still got that shower in the back?”
Sam asked. “I got a couple hundred miles of dirt on me and you're a
fucking mess.”
“And
whose fault is that?” Mike growled, taking a playful swing at Sam,
“Shower's this way.” Mike reached for the door and the two headed
to the shower.
Mike
turned on the shower on full blast and the pair stood under the hot
streams coming from the three shower heads all focused on the center.
Sam pulled Mike into a hug and the two kissed fiercely. Sam broke it
and looked into Mike's eyes.
"Been
cravin' some bottom time with daddy, huh?" Sam said.
"Yeah...
me an' Larry are great in bed. I love bein' his papa, but once in
awhile I need a big hairy daddy to work me over" Mike said, "an'
only one I know of will do... an' he's pressing his hard cock inta my
crotch right now!"
Sam
kissed him again and nipped his lower lip before he spoke, "Ya
didn't need to give me that prostate massage in my scoot's seat to
get me to fuck you rough, ya know."
"Nope,
that was payback for you an' Larry tyin' me up and teasin' me. The
both of ya playin' with me just enough so that I was constantly
turned on an' kept me cooled off enough so's I never came... for
three fuckin' days," Mike said
"Yeah,
that was a great weekend!" Sam said as he hunched into Mike's
crotch and smiled, "You COULDA broken through your bonds, ya
know."
"You
shit head!" Mike said and smacked Sam's wet ass with the hand
resting on it. "You knew I wouldn't tear through that leather
gear, its got sentimental attachment for me."
"Yes...
I knew that... that's why I chose it." Sam smirked. "Besides,
when you finally came, wasn't the three days of edging worth it?
Didn't you have the most mind blowing orgasm you'd ever had?"
"Yes
to both questions, but it was still a mean joke," Mike said.
"Yes,
it was and now we're even. Do I get to keep the little love-nut
stimulator to insert when I want?" Sam smiled evily.
"Yep,
custom seat for my horny daddy," Mike said.
"You're
an evil little shit, but your my evil little shit... you're spawn of
evil!" Sam said and kissed him again.
Mike
laughed, "Like father, like son!"
They
soaped each other up, taking their time to massage each other and rub
their bodies together. After rinsing, Sam pushed Mike up against the
stone tile wall and fucked him again, this time less roughly, but
still with a lot of power. Mike was plenty slick from what was still
in his ass. They traded places and Sam spreadeagled. Mike still
hadn't shot and was rock hard. He spread a little of his precum on
Sam's pucker and hilted in one swift move. He gripped Sam around his
thick middle, his chest and belly fur meshing with Sam's back pelt.
He fucked rapidly and unloaded quickly but oh, it was satisfying. The
two rinsed off again, turned off the shower and toweled each other
dry.
They
padded back into the office naked and looked at the ruin that was
their clothes lying about an office that needed some serious
straightening up.
"You
better have something to wear around here," Sam growled.
"Way
ahead of ya," Mike said and opened up a filing cabinet drawer.
Sam peeked inside and began pulling out clothes, "I figured
you'd probably trash my clothes an' yours as well. You change some
when you wrestle mad an' I know that those seams just weren't
designed for that."
Sam
pulled out a new pair of jeans and a 4X black T-shirt that had the
Grizzly Mike's Desert Choppers logo on it. "Those'll fit,"
Mike said and he fished out his set which was identical except the
shirt color was red. In minutes the pair were dressed and out of the
office. Everyone on the floor was not paying attention in a very
obvious way.
"Wonder
where my cub went?" Sam asked.
"Dunno,
I'll ask around," Mike said and he came back in a few minutes
with the news.
"Sparky
told Joe that he was taking Mack to Sally's Diner. Sparky's off work
early today seein' as how he came in at three-thirty this mornin' to
help me put the finishin' touches on yer bike. Hop on your scoot;
I'll grab mine an' we'll join them at the diner." Mike grinned.
"Not
'til you show me how to remove the nut massager," Sam said and
grinned back.
“Well,
you are 'Mr. No-Fun', ain'choo?” Mike chuckled and showed Sam the
release on the seat, removed the silicone egg, and tossed it to the
big bear. Sam pocketed it, and the two roared off to the diner.
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