The Bear

Bjorn dragged on the old, heavy boots, which actually fit. Next, he tried the jacket. It has always been too big for me, but proved to be a bit tight across his chest. Still, it was serviceable.

After Luke and I tried several more times to convince Bjorn to stay until the storm broke, he left. The kitchen door banged open, and a blast of Arctic air swirled into the house in his wake as he trudged out to the yard. I stood rooted to the spot for several heartbeats, watching the snow swallow him, until a second blast of icy wind roared into the kitchen. I hastily shut the door and sat back down at the table.

I turned to stare at Luke. He came around to stand in front of me. I waited for him to say good-bye, wishing I could find a way to ask him to stay. No words came out of my mouth except, “Luke—”

He stilled me with a hand behind my head. His fingers lightly stroked my neck. Hot and cold shivers raced down my spine, settling in my cock. “Do you want me, Scotty?”

My mouth went dry. Did I want him? Did a bird need the air to soar in? A bee need a flower to feast on? God, I’d never wanted another man in my life as much as I wanted Luke.

“Yes!”

“Good,” he said, and in one move he skimmed off his jeans. I stared at him, riveted, and swallowed.

His prick was at eye level. This time, it was fully erect, the head glistening, peaking out from its helmet of skin. Without a word, he thrust his hips forward. I responded by slipping the cock into my mouth, pushing back the hooded foreskin, exposing the bulbous head to my lips and tongue. He urged me on with whispers and sighs.

He swelled in my mouth…a monstrous, red tube of meat. I reached between his legs and stroked his thick, heavy balls, reaching behind them to tease the tender skin in front of his hole. The thought of having him inside me made me reckless. He moaned when I forced one finger between his butt cheeks. I rocked my hand, driving my digit up his chute. I stroked his spongy prostate and licked at the precum that dribbled out of his deeply cut slit. The fluid was pungent and salty. I lapped it up.

I pressed my mouth against the thick mat of pubic hair that covered him from back to front. Then I climbed to my feet and grabbed his ass in both hands, loving the feel of his silken hair as I pulled him against me. I led him into my bedroom, where I reached into my bedside drawer and drew out lubricant and condoms.

“Do you want to fuck me, Luke? Shove your cock inside me?”

He responded by wrenching open my jeans and dragging them off me. He flipped me onto my stomach on the bed. I heard the rip of foil, then a cool, moist finger entered my ass. He stretched me and plied me with lube, and when I began squirming and begging him, he finally obliged me by pushing his thick cock head against my back door.

I tensed, knowing it would hurt. Gently he slipped in the head, pausing to let me adjust, then when I urged him on, he began to inch his cock up my channel. His arms embraced me, pulling me back against his hirsute chest as he thrust into me. I felt his fist close around my meat. Then his mouth came down on my shoulder and through his shattered breathing, I could feel his teeth and tongue worrying my hot skin.

Writhing under him, I wanted him deeper, needed him to ram me harder. “Faster. Oh, God, Luke. Fuck me harder!” He did, slamming into me so fiercely, the four-poster bed started rocking on the wooden floor.