Flash Pulp #11 Informality
#11 of Flash Pulps
A polar bear jerks off casually
Carter was caught off guard when his neighbour opened his robe and revealed the obscene bugle inside of it. It was possibly the most casual, nonchalant thing he ever saw. The bear simply folded the fabric away and started rubbing the contours of his massive sheath. It was hard to believe he was talking so flippantly about the recently finalized divorce while he did it.
The fox had always admired his neighbour for his boldness and he had a number of fantasies not entirely dissimilar to this one but for it to be happening was something else. The polar behemoth laughed easily as he sat down on one of his pool chairs gesticulating to Carter with one paw while the other very distinctly fondled one of the volleyballs straining against the custom fitted jockstrap and his neighbour hung over the wall watching intently. At least Carter tried to make an effort to be as easy-going as his solidly built, over endowed friend but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the growing swell between his legs.
Suddenly it seemed strange that he had never seen Powell aroused. The bear couldn't be discrete, it just wasn't possible. Trying to hide his maleness would make him look like a complete idiot. There were a couple pairs of slacks that were designed to minimize the shapes of his bits and pieces but there would always be the bulge. Carter was eager on the inside to see how big the monster would get but he kept making friendly snipes about the bear's ex wife while that big paw squeezed and stroked getting more lewd with each pass.
Carter was just getting used to chatting casually with a hands-y neighbour when the bear stood again and pulled off his underwear. He wasn't showing off, there was no pomp and circumstance. He might as well have been getting ready for the shower or surf for porn in his bedroom. In fact, the fox wouldn't have thought he knew he was doing it if he didn't stop and think about it for a moment while he polished the black head of his cock peeking out of it turgid sheath. He asked, well it was more of a comment posed as a question, if his neighbour was gay then, in the same breath, offered the strap to him.
There was no denying it of course and Powell's mood was pervasive. He took the musky fabric and a deep sniff while the bear talked dryly about his own sexuality. Supposedly he actually wished he were gay. He liked the way cocks looked and felt, even how they smelled. Problem was as much as he liked cock it didn't get his motor running. Go figure. Carter agreed absently between sniffs of the hearty ursine musk and long stares at the growing shaft; barely even firm and already most of the way up his belly. Before he new it the two of them were comparing Carter's boyfriends: cock sizes and bad habits and special skills and all the while the pair were getting harder and more aroused but the conversation turned more and more benign.
Powell was spraying precum quickly, jetting it onto his own face as his monster reached up to his sculpted chest. The fat beast throbbed slowly, strong but absent while the neighbours discussed the upcoming football game. More accurately, Powell discussed it while Carter nodded and agreed with his own paw stuffed down his pants and stroking quickly behind the wall between them. The bear juggled his massive balls with both hands while he licked the sensitive spot where the underside of the head meets the shaft between comments about a starting offense or something to that effect. The fox was really enjoying this. Somehow it only heightened by the fact that Powell seemed to think nothing of it. Like this was perfectly normal, stroking his monster while reclining by the pool and talking about about football.
Carter enjoyed it more when the bear excused himself to stretch his jaw wide and suck on his own head. The fox whimpered as he watched that long black tongue slurp up the side while precum spilled sloppily from his chin and the corners of his mouth. Good proof that he certainly liked cock even if he would probably never suck one other than his own. Carter stroked faster, wriggling his hips out his pants so he could work a little easier, twisting around the tip and squeezing at the base as his neighbour slobbed his own schlong. It was a good show for the short burst before he pulled back and smiled resuming his diatribe about the Viking's bad season.
It wasn't much longer before Carter and Powell were reaching their climaxes. Both of them shuddering at odd intervals while they kept at their communal masturbation until, for the second time that morning, the bear addressed the fact that they were masturbating together in their backyards. He explained that he was close and if the fox was a "cum guy" they could hop the fence and let him have it. As tempting as it was, Carter wouldn't have time after all this to get clean and not smell like bear jizz all day at work so the bear stood up again, still wearing the precum soaked robe, and waddled toward the bushes near the back wall and groaned as he unleashed his load.
He was very thoroughly soaking the poor topiary, coating it in a thick layer of his hot cream then sweeping his cock to the side to give it a second coat. He almost looked like he was actually gardening, but rather than water or that stuff they use to keep bugs off he was spraying it with a constant barrage of semen. Carter groaned as well showering the wall with his own load, generous though not as overwhelming as Powell's. It continued long after Carter's pint was drooling down to the ground.
Gallons of bear nut pooling in the soil underneath as the arctic hunk laughed at his own joke about pollinating the poor plant. The fox had heard stranger things in the world, he replied and after a while the flow stopped. They wiped their cock tips clean in unexpected unison as they moved toward their respective houses. No comment about a good time, no remark that they ought to do anything else. Just wrapping up their conversation. Of course, now with the wife gone there would be a lot more time to masturbate and lots more space to do it and Carter was free to hang out any time. But that's hardly innuendo.