Surprised By A Bear - free erotic gay stories on MaleDirectory
I woke up feeling really good for the first time in months. Things felt different for me and I began processing those differences before I opened my eyes. First, there was the wonderful, peaceful feeling of having gone to sleep happy; then there was the feeling of complete restfulness as if I’d slept carefree, again for the first time in months. Then there was the feeling I was not alone in my big bed. In fact there was the physical sensation of a furry chest snuggled against my back and a muscled, hairy arm gently hugging my torso, a strong hand softly circling through the mat of hair covering my chest. There was the soft breathing against my ear and the nuzzling of morning whiskers against the nape of my neck. And there was the hot, hard tube of flesh sliding with slow lengthwise strokes up and down my asscrack, against the soft cotton of my boxer briefs. I smiled, stretched, arched my ass back against the stroking, and turned my head to plant a sideways kiss on the puckered, searching lips that had been breathing in my ear. The feeling of disbelief I had gone to sleep with was now a feeling of belief as I came fully awake.
I couldn’t believe it last night when Mick had come to bed with me; in fact I couldn’t believe it after the party yesterday when Mick stayed behind to help me clean up. In fact, I couldn’t believe we found we have in common what we have in common. We seem so different.
He’s over six feet tall, I’m about 5’8. He’s a bear, I’m an otter. He’s a man’s man--into competive sports, cars, and according to much of his conversation, hot dates with women. I’m a women’s man--into fitness, cooking, volunteerism, and completely out of the “playa” scene. He’s young and single, I’m a grandfather, newly single. He’s at the beginning of his career, I’ve just retired from the same profession. So how come I wake up with him in my bed? How come he’s caressing my chest and dry humping my ass? There was no indication we’d wake up this way when we finally went to bed last night.
I’d hosted the year-end staff barbeque at my place on the lake. I have a good place for a party. I’m on my own since my wife moved on just over a year ago. Nothing traumatic, just a parting of the ways after 30-plus good years of marriage. She wanted a different retirement than I did. I ended up with our big house and mortgage, she ended up with our cash. So, here I am, on my own in a big house with a big deck and a fantastic view of the lake. We’d often hosted staff parties before and there seemed no reason not to host this one.
It had been a good party. Everyone had lots of fun. I played a good host, chatting amiably with everyone. Why not, they were all my friends as well as my former colleagues. And, dissimilar as we were, I had found myself talking with Mick more often than with anyone else, each of us letting the other find out things about ourselves that we didn’t normally share. Nothing earth-shattering, but each of us began to develop a gradual sense of bonding. Turned out we both wanted to get back into weight training but kept sloughing off without a workout partner. We made plans to work out together. Turned out we both wanted to get back into biking but didn’t have anyone to bike with. We made plans to bike together once in a while. Like I say, nothing earth-shattering, just good male bonding.
After the party, after I thought everyone had left, I found Mick in the kitchen cleaning up. I hadn’t expected that, but for sure I appreciated the help. I got us each another beer. I knew it would be my last of the evening--I can’t deal with hang-overs any more. Mick showed no sign of tapering off, though, and I was secretly glad. I didn’t want him to hurry away once we finished up the worst of the clean-up. Stepping outside my confidence zone, I suggested he stay over, pointing out he was most surely over the legal limit for drinking and driving. Much to my relief, he smiled and said he’d like that. I wasn’t sure where this all was going, but I had the feeling I was getting a really good new friend.
We chatted a bit more, Mick had another beer; I said I was done for had to go to bed. I showed Mick the guest room, and told him to stay up as long as he liked. I handed him the tv remote in case he wanted to watch for a while. Then he said something that surprised me a lot. Looking shyly off to the side, he said, “I get lonely at night. Can I sleep with you in your bed?” And that’s how a big bear man ended up in my bed this morning.
We’d been very cool getting ready for bed--undressing with our backs to one another, keeping our underwear on (mine, snug boxer briefs; his, loose boxers), staying well to our own sides of the bed, facing away from one another. There was nothing cool about the way we woke up, though!
Besides his arm around me, fingers playing with my chest hair, his hard meat sliding up and down my asscrack, my back arching my asshole against him, my neck craning to let me kiss him, I had the fullest, hardest, drippingest, most aching hardon I’d had in years. This manlove foreplay was a first for me, but I knew, I absolutely knew it was the beginning of something excellent, something I had fantasized about for years, something I knew I’d never let go of now that it had begun. I was like the proverbial beggar at a banquet--limitless, unbelievable delicacies lay before me and I hardly knew where to begin. I began by rolling towards him, pushing him onto his back, humping my rampant cock against his hairy, bearish belly, grinding my lips into his lips, opening my mouth wide to suck his tongue deep into me, my hairy legs rubbing and gripping his hairy legs, my slim hands massaging his hairy bear shoulders, my hairy otter chest rubbing against his hairy bear chest, my throat growling deep otter growls, my entire body shaking as though I was breaking a fever.
Mick? He responded to my devouring kisses with equal voraciousness. He stiffened his tongue and shoved it into my hungry mouth, stroking as if it were a cock in a love-hole. His hairy arms encircled my hairy shoulders and his beary paws caressed my hairy back. He arched his beary body upwards against my writhing otter body. He slid his paws down my sides, slipping them under the waistband of my snug boxer briefs, sliding that underwear down my hairy legs, pulling it over my feet with his feet. I followed this action by doing the same with his loose boxers. His swollen, hard, dripping bear cock danced against my swollen, hard, dripping otter cock. Slim man’s rampant cock against stocky man’s rampant cock, bear cockslime slicking otter cock, otter cockslime slicking bear cock, otter growls and whimpers answered by deeper-pitched bear growls and rasping breaths. I sat up. I sat back, my haunches against his thighs, my hands trailing down his beary trunk, along his beary treasure trail to his straining, beary cock. It was a beautiful cock. Like my own, it was cut, close to seven inches long, the diameter of a Ukranian sausage. Rooted in a thick nest of rich brown hair, it stretched itself flat against his hairy belly, reaching for his belly button. Best of all, it was shiny and slick with his precious pre-cum. I couldn’t stop myself. I did something I’d never done before--I tasted my first dick. I licked around and around the straining purple head of my bear’s mighty cock, savouring the taste as if it were expensive malt whiskey. I stroked my bear’s cockstaft, squeezing out another dollop of the exquisite juice, capturing it and rolling it over my tongue like fine cognac.
Then I began devouring the meat. I took as much as I could in my mouth, I slid up and down as much of it as my mouth would hold, I stroked with overlapping fists the part I couldn’t get into my mouth. I slavered, I salivated, I soaked the whole shaft with my slick spit. My own meat was straining upwards and against my pubes and abdomen so hard it felt as if it would turn back on itself. My lips released his delicious, tender, straining dick and it slapped back against his belly. I lay atop him again, my lips taking over his lips once more. Our cocks caressed each other again, otter cock to the left of bear cock, bear cock back to the left of otter cock, otter cock sliding over bear cock, bear cock sliding over otter cock until we struck the rhythm of the dance of love, each pelvis thrusting against the other, each cock sliding beside the other, between the hairy bellies that trapped them both. Faster and faster pulsed the rhythmic dance, more and more fervently ground our lips into each other, deeper and deeper thrust our chests against one another, tighter and tighter our hairy legs entwined each other. And so the slippery, slimey dance went on. Then he, the bear, began to groan and I, the otter, began to whimper and pant. Our cocks--our cocks strained and strained and strained, both pouring out lube that heightened the slipperness of the dance and scented the air of the room. And then both cocks strained and engorged even more, as if they would turn themselves inside out. And then--and then it happened! Bear and the otter howled in unison. Otter cock pumped its hot load onto the beary belly; bear cock spit its hot juice onto the otter belly, the two loads of stickiness spreading across both bellies and surrounding both pulsing rods, coating them with its warm slickness, each rod continuing to spurt shot after shot of precious man juice between the hairy trunks.
Mick began to shiver and shake as I had done earlier, I melted my body against his and held him close, closer than my own skin, it seemed. Our kisses became tender, nibbling caresses and our cocks slowly, slowly softened, trailing the last remnants of their precious slime in their wakes. Mick and I? We hugged, we snuggled, we stroked each other’s cheeks, gazing wonderingly into each other’s eyes. We were sated and elated, drained and energized, finished but just beginning. We fell asleep--in each other’s arms, in lust and in love.
I couldn’t believe it last night when Mick had come to bed with me; in fact I couldn’t believe it after the party yesterday when Mick stayed behind to help me clean up. In fact, I couldn’t believe we found we have in common what we have in common. We seem so different.
He’s over six feet tall, I’m about 5’8. He’s a bear, I’m an otter. He’s a man’s man--into competive sports, cars, and according to much of his conversation, hot dates with women. I’m a women’s man--into fitness, cooking, volunteerism, and completely out of the “playa” scene. He’s young and single, I’m a grandfather, newly single. He’s at the beginning of his career, I’ve just retired from the same profession. So how come I wake up with him in my bed? How come he’s caressing my chest and dry humping my ass? There was no indication we’d wake up this way when we finally went to bed last night.
I’d hosted the year-end staff barbeque at my place on the lake. I have a good place for a party. I’m on my own since my wife moved on just over a year ago. Nothing traumatic, just a parting of the ways after 30-plus good years of marriage. She wanted a different retirement than I did. I ended up with our big house and mortgage, she ended up with our cash. So, here I am, on my own in a big house with a big deck and a fantastic view of the lake. We’d often hosted staff parties before and there seemed no reason not to host this one.
It had been a good party. Everyone had lots of fun. I played a good host, chatting amiably with everyone. Why not, they were all my friends as well as my former colleagues. And, dissimilar as we were, I had found myself talking with Mick more often than with anyone else, each of us letting the other find out things about ourselves that we didn’t normally share. Nothing earth-shattering, but each of us began to develop a gradual sense of bonding. Turned out we both wanted to get back into weight training but kept sloughing off without a workout partner. We made plans to work out together. Turned out we both wanted to get back into biking but didn’t have anyone to bike with. We made plans to bike together once in a while. Like I say, nothing earth-shattering, just good male bonding.
After the party, after I thought everyone had left, I found Mick in the kitchen cleaning up. I hadn’t expected that, but for sure I appreciated the help. I got us each another beer. I knew it would be my last of the evening--I can’t deal with hang-overs any more. Mick showed no sign of tapering off, though, and I was secretly glad. I didn’t want him to hurry away once we finished up the worst of the clean-up. Stepping outside my confidence zone, I suggested he stay over, pointing out he was most surely over the legal limit for drinking and driving. Much to my relief, he smiled and said he’d like that. I wasn’t sure where this all was going, but I had the feeling I was getting a really good new friend.
We chatted a bit more, Mick had another beer; I said I was done for had to go to bed. I showed Mick the guest room, and told him to stay up as long as he liked. I handed him the tv remote in case he wanted to watch for a while. Then he said something that surprised me a lot. Looking shyly off to the side, he said, “I get lonely at night. Can I sleep with you in your bed?” And that’s how a big bear man ended up in my bed this morning.
We’d been very cool getting ready for bed--undressing with our backs to one another, keeping our underwear on (mine, snug boxer briefs; his, loose boxers), staying well to our own sides of the bed, facing away from one another. There was nothing cool about the way we woke up, though!
Besides his arm around me, fingers playing with my chest hair, his hard meat sliding up and down my asscrack, my back arching my asshole against him, my neck craning to let me kiss him, I had the fullest, hardest, drippingest, most aching hardon I’d had in years. This manlove foreplay was a first for me, but I knew, I absolutely knew it was the beginning of something excellent, something I had fantasized about for years, something I knew I’d never let go of now that it had begun. I was like the proverbial beggar at a banquet--limitless, unbelievable delicacies lay before me and I hardly knew where to begin. I began by rolling towards him, pushing him onto his back, humping my rampant cock against his hairy, bearish belly, grinding my lips into his lips, opening my mouth wide to suck his tongue deep into me, my hairy legs rubbing and gripping his hairy legs, my slim hands massaging his hairy bear shoulders, my hairy otter chest rubbing against his hairy bear chest, my throat growling deep otter growls, my entire body shaking as though I was breaking a fever.
Mick? He responded to my devouring kisses with equal voraciousness. He stiffened his tongue and shoved it into my hungry mouth, stroking as if it were a cock in a love-hole. His hairy arms encircled my hairy shoulders and his beary paws caressed my hairy back. He arched his beary body upwards against my writhing otter body. He slid his paws down my sides, slipping them under the waistband of my snug boxer briefs, sliding that underwear down my hairy legs, pulling it over my feet with his feet. I followed this action by doing the same with his loose boxers. His swollen, hard, dripping bear cock danced against my swollen, hard, dripping otter cock. Slim man’s rampant cock against stocky man’s rampant cock, bear cockslime slicking otter cock, otter cockslime slicking bear cock, otter growls and whimpers answered by deeper-pitched bear growls and rasping breaths. I sat up. I sat back, my haunches against his thighs, my hands trailing down his beary trunk, along his beary treasure trail to his straining, beary cock. It was a beautiful cock. Like my own, it was cut, close to seven inches long, the diameter of a Ukranian sausage. Rooted in a thick nest of rich brown hair, it stretched itself flat against his hairy belly, reaching for his belly button. Best of all, it was shiny and slick with his precious pre-cum. I couldn’t stop myself. I did something I’d never done before--I tasted my first dick. I licked around and around the straining purple head of my bear’s mighty cock, savouring the taste as if it were expensive malt whiskey. I stroked my bear’s cockstaft, squeezing out another dollop of the exquisite juice, capturing it and rolling it over my tongue like fine cognac.
Then I began devouring the meat. I took as much as I could in my mouth, I slid up and down as much of it as my mouth would hold, I stroked with overlapping fists the part I couldn’t get into my mouth. I slavered, I salivated, I soaked the whole shaft with my slick spit. My own meat was straining upwards and against my pubes and abdomen so hard it felt as if it would turn back on itself. My lips released his delicious, tender, straining dick and it slapped back against his belly. I lay atop him again, my lips taking over his lips once more. Our cocks caressed each other again, otter cock to the left of bear cock, bear cock back to the left of otter cock, otter cock sliding over bear cock, bear cock sliding over otter cock until we struck the rhythm of the dance of love, each pelvis thrusting against the other, each cock sliding beside the other, between the hairy bellies that trapped them both. Faster and faster pulsed the rhythmic dance, more and more fervently ground our lips into each other, deeper and deeper thrust our chests against one another, tighter and tighter our hairy legs entwined each other. And so the slippery, slimey dance went on. Then he, the bear, began to groan and I, the otter, began to whimper and pant. Our cocks--our cocks strained and strained and strained, both pouring out lube that heightened the slipperness of the dance and scented the air of the room. And then both cocks strained and engorged even more, as if they would turn themselves inside out. And then--and then it happened! Bear and the otter howled in unison. Otter cock pumped its hot load onto the beary belly; bear cock spit its hot juice onto the otter belly, the two loads of stickiness spreading across both bellies and surrounding both pulsing rods, coating them with its warm slickness, each rod continuing to spurt shot after shot of precious man juice between the hairy trunks.
Mick began to shiver and shake as I had done earlier, I melted my body against his and held him close, closer than my own skin, it seemed. Our kisses became tender, nibbling caresses and our cocks slowly, slowly softened, trailing the last remnants of their precious slime in their wakes. Mick and I? We hugged, we snuggled, we stroked each other’s cheeks, gazing wonderingly into each other’s eyes. We were sated and elated, drained and energized, finished but just beginning. We fell asleep--in each other’s arms, in lust and in love.