This story contains graphic descriptions of adult, consensual gay sex. If this offends you or it is illegal for you to view this site, please leave this site.
I Reached Out
I reached out, my fingers against the soft flannel of his plaid shirt. His warmth against my skin felt good, as I ran my fingers against his chest. Silently, he looked into my eyes, his head nodding slightly as I whispered that I wanted him, that I was ready for him, eager to be with him, in every sense of that phrase.
His thick, meaty chest rose and fell, under my hand and under his shirt. I unbutton the top two buttons, slowly, my fingertips caressing the curls of his thick, dark chest hair. I am thinking about the line of man fur that likely ran down his firm belly. Just like he appeared to me in my dreams, when I awoke, gasping, hard cock in my fist, ropes of my cum spurting thick in the solitude of my bed.
I breathe deep, feeling the sweat pool in my armpits, taking in his warm, musty odor rising from his shirt, and the darkening wetness under his arms.
"I'm a little nervous," he said.
"I've never..., you know, done this with a guy," he said.
I nodded, looking back at him, as my fingers from one hand spread out against the warm cloth of his shirt, feeling his heart beating strong and regular.
The other hand was closer, skin against skin. I felt his heat, my fingers against the coarse, thick hair of his muscular chest, callouses catching on the whorls of fur that covered his chest. I imagined, down further, his thick bush of hair above his cock, and his cum-filled balls, waiting for me to grasp his manhood in my eager hand, and then, more, much more.
It was only mid-afternoon, and we had met for lunch at a cafŽ near my apartment. We'd hit it off, talking for two hours about life and loneliness, about hiking and friends.
I'd asked him to come to my place, to open a bottle of wine, and get better acquainted. After the first glass, I'd touched his hand, telling him I'd like to get to know him a lot better. He'd nodded, setting his glass down and letting me pull him into a hug. His muscled arms gripped me tightly, pulling me close, until I felt his warm breath on my neck, until I kissed him, slow and sweet, his moustache bristly against my hungry lips.
My own cock stiffened at the thought, of unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt, and pulling it off his meaty shoulders, exposing his ripe, eager nipples, and the rest of his muscled shoulders, arms, and manly chest. And, then, after I had sucked and fondled his broad, slightly salty nipples, and listened to him moan and sigh with pleasure and lust, I'd pull on his thick leather belt with its silver cowboy buckle, loosening his worn jeans, getting closer to where I wanted to go with him on this lazy afternoon. Just him and me, and all the time in the world to get to know each other, in every sense of the word.
The back of my hand would feel the warmth of his belly, thickly furred, as my fingers worked to unbutton his jeans, and then, slowly, pull the zipper down, feeling for the first time the heat of his thickening cock, its meatiness and weight shown to me in the outline of the faded and worn front of the denim.
I'd pull his jeans down, and be surprised, yes delighted, that he'd gone commando, his half erect cock flopping out against my trembling fingers, the soft skin of his cock hood damp from his sweat, nervous and lusty.
Just like I dreamt, in those lonely nights, when I wondered if I'd ever find him in my life.
The rich muskiness of his crotch, a mixture of sweat, ball musk, and a bit of pre-cum, would rise into my nostrils, making my mouth wet with hunger to take him deep inside of me, my lips pushing down his cock hood, exposing the rich purplish red of his cockhead, its piss-slit already oozing more of his studly juices.
My whiskers would catch in the thick strands of his dark, damp curly hair growing thickly around his balls and the root of his steel-hard cock. He would be throbbing with the beat of his heart, and oozing even more of the juices that I would soon drain from his heavy balls, round and tender in their furry sack.
He whispered my name, bringing me back to this reality, this first time with my lover. It was not a dream, and I was really, truly awake.
He placed his hand on my shoulder, drawing me even closer to him, until our hips and torsos touched, shirt against shirt, jeans against jeans. Man with man; my man, my lover.
My hardening cock pushed against my jeans, and I could feel his cock against me, warm and growing, too. My tongue yearned to feel his hardness inside of me, tasting the first oozings of his load of jism that would soon pulse from his groin, as his deep voice would moan and cry out for his God.
His other hand reached out and then stroked my beard and moustache. His worker's hand ran through my beard, the callouses catching and tugging on my whiskers.
"I've never touched a man's beard before," he said. "It feels so soft."
"It'll feel even better, when I'm sucking your big cock, and my beard's rubbing against your balls," I said.
His face reddened then, and a few beads of sweat broke out on his brow.
"I'm, uh, I don't know," he said.
"You don't need to know," I said. "Just feel, just enjoy it."
"Let me do all the work, at first," I said.
"It's your day off, you know," I said, as he chuckled, letting out a big breath.
We'd met at a wedding the week before, a mutual friend, Beth, introducing us, telling me beforehand that I should meet him, that we had a lot in common, and could become good friends.
Beth encouraged me to friend him on Facebook, and told me some things about him, that we both went to the same college, that we had some friends in common, and both liked to hike on the weekends.
"You need a new friend," she said. "And, a new hiking buddy."
"Besides, you're both lonely, and I think you guys would hit it off," she said.
She acted a little mysterious, and laughed when she said that. I tried to get her to fill me in on what she meant, but she just winked at me, and shrugged me off, laughing again at her own little private joke.
Taking my time, I slowly stripped him, tossing his shirt over a chair, my thumbs and fingers exploring his wet, furry armpits as his arms held me close to him. I kissed him again, as my fingers slowly felt their way through his sweaty pits, my nose taking in his masculine smell, tinged with his anxiety of his first time with a man.
His smell mixed with the faint odor of his breath, the coffee we'd had for lunch, and the glass of wine, and everything else about him that I was getting to know, getting to like.
I knelt, then, and untied the laces of his boots, letting him steady himself on my shoulders, as I slipped off his boots and socks.
Then, I stood again, taking time to run my fingers and my lips across his chest, first fondling and tweaking, then suckling his thick, broad nipples, now hardening and erect. He sighed, his hand against the back of my head, drawing me closer to his sweat-dampened chest.
"Oh, that feels so good," he whispered.
My hand ran down his furry belly, until I again felt his cock beneath the warm denim cloth of his jeans.
"This will feel better," I said, my fingers stroking the hardening tube I'd discovered.
I slowly undid his belt, and the top button of his jeans, and then pulled on the zipper, until his now free cock popped out of his jeans, against my eager, willing hand.
My other hand felt the hot, sweaty skin of his ass cheeks. His muscled butt cheeks were dusted with a nice coating of fur. I explored him, then, pulling his jeans down and off of his feet, until he stood naked before me, his risen cock stiff in front of my face.
I licked him then, first the shaft and then the emerging head of his cock, the slightly salty taste of him, and the spiciness of his pungent precum on my tongue. My hand cupped his heavy balls, and I rolled him gently with my fingers, feeling his balls rise in their hairy sack, nearly ready to spurt his first load of cum into my eager mouth.
"We'll get back to that," I said.
I stood again, embracing him in my arms, me still in my shirt and my jeans, against the bare nakedness of my soon to be lover.
"Your turn," I whispered.
"Strip me, but take your time," I added.
He kissed me again, his tongue now exploring my tongue, damp fingers running through my beard and along my moustache.
"This feelsÉso good," he whispered.
"Have your way with me," I said.
I took his hands in mine, placing them against the front of my shirt.
"Get me naked," I said. "Naked and ready for you."
He followed my lead, taking his time. It took a while for my shirt to fall to the floor, my lover's hands slowly unbuttoning me, my lover's lips tasting and suckling my eager nipples, his fingers exploring my own damp armpits, the thatch of fur across my chest and belly.
My shoes and socks got lost somewhere in that room, soon joined by my jeans and my boxers, until we held each other tight, skin to skin, damp sweaty fur against fur, stiff cock and full balls against each other.
"Now what?" he asked, as we ended another deep tongue kiss, feeling our beards and moustaches against each other, warm breath against our faces, our musty sweat mingling with each other, making new smells of horniness and desire.
"Whatever you want," I whispered.
I took his hand, then, taking him to my bed.
We pulled down the comforter, and then a sheet, and rolled into the bed together, hands and skin and fur and stiff cocks against each other, a jumble of dampness and desire.
I reached out, again, and pulled him into me.
--Oregon Bear, 2/14/2016