The road trip 5
#5 of The road trip
Road Trip
By GrayLocke
2006
Warning this story contains material that it might not be suitable for people under 18 if you're underage PLEASE STOP READING NOW.
Chapter 5
The cool Spring breeze blew through the garden; he was kneeling as he plucked the weeds between the herbs. Even though he arrived at my house several weeks ago he was still silent, never our eyes met since his arrival.
Those two fools; one too old to remember how it felt to be young, and the other one too young to know when the cub was old enough.
I called him by his name, telling him that supper was ready. The cub rose and washed; we ate outside, watching the sun set in the horizon. He tore the loaf of bread in chunks, dipping them into the soup and ate silently; it was not the right time to ask him as he kept his gaze away from me.
That night just like the ones after he came to my house he cried until he slept, the cub curled into a ball as I caressed his forehead with my right hand; he was like a broken toy waiting for the toy maker to be fixed but not yet.
***
In no time Summer was here and he became bolder, stronger. He was chopping some lumber, splitting the logs with a natural dexterity; it never ceases to amaze me how they are capable of developing physical skills. When he arrived here he was barely able to use a hoe; now, he was chopping the wood, tending the garden and fixing the house like an expert; it's not a surprise that they have been used more as tinkers, blacksmiths and artisans than warriors.
What a beautiful cub he is, ever since he arrived he actually began to use his muscles, Miles slowly changing from chunky solid to actually solid. He hadn't shifted so the only workout he had at hand was the ones I assigned to him. I called Miles and he stopped; he looked at me and smiled, the first one I have seen since his arrival.
He had no shirt on and was sweating profusely, gone was the first days of his red lobster skin; his body learned to darken even further and he sported a lovely bronze tan his blond fur couldn't hide.
Miles pulled his white handkerchief from his right pocket, removed his glasses and wiped his brow. He was grateful that I gave him a jug full of cold ale, he sat on the stump and swallowed its contents in one gulp, burping the gas, giving me back the empty jug
"Feeling better?" I asked.
Miles nodded and gave me a smile, sad one but a smile nonetheless.
***
During the mid Summer, Miles approached me one night, he sat next to me in the study and began to talk; he told me of his life, his childhood, his family; and as he talked about it his voice began to tremble.
I saw tears starting to flow from his eyes and I wrapped my right arm around him, the cub hugged me burying his face on my chest. He cried, letting out all the pain while I comforted him; Miles raised his face and I brushed away the dark blond curls from his forehead, kissing him there.
He looked at me with those brown eyes that didn't matched up with his blond fur. My right hand removing the glasses from his face and I kissed him again on the forehead, then on the nose and I rested my forehead against his.
"Shhh." I said to him, "It's okay to let it out all of it." Miles rested his head on my right shoulder and hugged me tighter.
My left hand caressing his neck, "Shhh... I won't condone what they did but I have to tell you something: Finn and Karl are from a different era; they are hardened warriors who have loved and lost so much in their lives. Sometimes they forget that the ones close to them at this time aren't warriors, and that sometimes what's good for them isn't necessarily as good for others."
I closed my eyes and said, "Many say that your people are blessed because of the gifts given to you, but a blessing is a curse. Each and every race of beastmen has advantages that require a prices to pay."
Miles breathing was slow and relaxed. "They say that a werebear's longevity and healing ability makes them the best of all races, but the price your kind pays is perhaps the most expensive one."
I whispered to him "Your kind will live long, as long as a giant redwood, but you will fear the next day, fore the ones who won't live as much as you will die sooner than you would want to. That's why there are so many living so far from the cities; not wanting to care, to love, because your curse is to have a human heart; and no human was meant to live so much."
"You were meant to be warriors, ones who would fight tirelessly and die in battle. But your human souls would guide towards paths away from battle."
I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, "You father for example, was never a warrior but a great idealist."
Miles looked at me just as he heard about him, "Can you tell me about him?" He asked.
I smiled and kissed him in the forehead, "All in due time cub."
***
The next day, Miles was sitting on the porch, carving a piece of wood just out of boredom. I wasn't, knowing quite well what was going to happen.
Miles was entranced with his work that he didn't noticed the man heading for the house through the dirt road, not even as he was a few feet from him.
"Hello little bear." Said the man.
Miles looked up and the expression on his face was priceless; the knife and the log fell from his hands and onto the floor; the cub rose immediately and hugged his father.
"Oh God!" Said Miles as he held tight on Patrick; tears of joy flowing from his eyes.
Patrick was also in the same state of emotion, "I wanted to see you grow; to be there when you needed me the most." And the black bear's hands laid on his son's ears, Patrick kissing Miles on the forehead, then on the nose and catching his son by surprise on the lips; Patrick reluctantly broke the kiss and looked at his son with his blue eyes full of love; "I love you son." He said.
It was my turn to enter, "Well! Well! Well!" I exclaimed as I opened the door. "So nice for you to return after a long absence."
Patrick looked at me with a wide smile, his pearly teeth barely visible under that thick white beard; he scratched his neck as he picked his knapsack with his left hand. Miles looking at us with a very surprised look on his face, his father was my lover and we kissed deeply in front of him.
"Whoawhoawhoawhoa, hold on," The cub said, "You two know each other? And I mean 'know' each other?"
"Always," I replied.
"How come you didn't tell me?"
"You didn't asked."
"But, I mean... It's... YOU!"
Patrick pretended to look offended, "Are you downplaying me son?"
Miles jumped, "No! But you know... It's Him and you know... Oh God."
I looked at him, "I'm not that one Miles."
"Yes I know but... But... But... I need to sit down." And he sat back on the bench.
"Kids" I scoffed.
"I'm 24."
Patrick chuckled and kissed me, "I'm a bit dirty from the long trip, care to help me in the shower love? I don't want to leave a beige ring on the tub." He looked at Miles. "Care to join us?"
"Eh... Some other time."
"Very well then." And we left Miles to digest the situation.
***
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Patrick use a large towel to dry himself. I scratched my belly before grabbing his hard werebear cock, it took just a few strokes of my hand and my mouth suckling the plum shaped glans for him to shoot his cream in my mouth.
"Mmm..." I heard him moan, Patrick rubbing his right hand over his dense pelt. "Now that's the spot," He said as his member stopped feeding me his seed.
I pulled back, licking my lips as I watch him head towards the closet, Patrick's scarred back covered in dense black fur except for the round asscheeks, pale and hairless.
"You looking at my ass?" He asked, turning his head with a sly smile.
"Later I'll be doing more than look at it but first we have a more important matter to attend."
Patrick frowned, his face saddened, "Finn... Karl..." He shook his head and gave me a sad smile. "Those two are always getting into trouble," He spoke as he wore a cr竪me shirt leaving it unbuttoned, he went for a pair of brown pants, putting them on without any prior underwear, his feet on a pair of grass sandals.
While Patrick carefully groomed his hair I approached behind him, my arms slipping under his open shirt. "Well, you shouldn't decide with an empty stomach." I said as I wore just a wife beater, brown shorts and sandals similar to Patrick's.
***
Later that night us three lay on the terrace; enjoying the clear, cloudless night, the black sky peppered with stars visible during this season. Miles dozing in the middle and wearing nothing but some loose cotton shorts.
"Look!" I pointed at the sky, a shooting star falling on the horizon, then another and another. Miles watched in awe as the meteor shower filled the sky with flashing lights.
"How come I never saw them?" Miles asked.
Patrick kept looking at the sky and replied "That's because you never left the bedroom all this time."
Right on cue I yawned, "Well, I think I'm gonna catch some Zs right now, there's no harm of sleeping outside but I think you two need to catch up on a lot of things alone."
I went downstairs, closing the door to my bedroom and sat in the middle of the bed; my eyes shut and aware of my surroundings, it was time to sneak up on them.
Patrick was leaning on his right, scratching his chest fur and talking to his son. The two had quite an animated chat; laughing at certain things the cub spoke. Patrick's eyes became misty as he spoke "How I would have loved to be there; watching you grow, to laugh with you, to comfort you when you needed me and to ground you when the occasion was necessary." He took a deep breath, tears flowing down his cheeks, "But alas, it was my time to leave."
Miles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and said, "But now I'm here and we're going to be fine!"
Patrick gave him a sad smile, "No Miles, soon you will have to leave. There are people back home who love you more than anything; if you don't return their lives will be torn apart."
The cub was speechless; Patrick then knew what to do, he leaned forward and kissed his son.
"But before you go," The old bear smiled, "There's something we should do."
Patrick rubbed Miles' chest; the fingers ruffling the golden chest fur, caressing the pink areolas before trailing down the navel and the groin, peeling back the foreskin of the swelling member.
His father rolled on top of the cub, the two bears pressing their mouths together; ardently both tongues probing deep inside each other, white beard mingling with the dark blond face fur.
Patrick rubbing his hefty cock against his son, thrusting back and forth as the cub spreaded his legs, raising them and rubbing the inner thighs against the older bear's midsection.
The cub's father reluctantly breaking from the kiss as he lowered down; suckling on Mile's chin, lips kissing and nibbling the throat, pausing to nip and swirl the tongue around the pink mounds of flesh standing on each pec.
Miles caressed Patrick's graying head fur as he watched the older werebear kiss his belly, trailing even further down. "The apple not far from the tree..." Joked Patrick, stroking his son's erect member.
Then the cub inhaled as his throbbing bearhood was engulfed by the mouth of his father; Patrick's right hand kept the foreskin rolled back as his tongue licked the edges of the spongy helmet, lips then trailing down over the swollen urethra towards the base of the bearhood, voraciously suckling each testicle and leaving them swollen and boiling with seed.
Patrick returned to the turgid member, taking it into his maw with a hunger for his son's member; the cub watched through hazy eyes as his cock slipped into his father's white bearded mouth; one hand keeping the foreskin rolled back and the other one tugging, stretching the swollen cub's scrotum.
"Dad..." Mile's arched his back; his body went rigid and heaved his cock upwards feeding his father the viscous seed.
Patrick, closed his eyes, not slowing down for a moment as the scent of semen invaded the air when he finally pulled of his son's still rigid member, he drew his right hand towards his mouth, spitting some of the come onto the palm and stroked his middle-aged cock with it; relishing on the feeling of his son's seed against his cock.
Patrick slipped his cum soaked hand between the cub's legs, pushing a slippery finger into the throbbing hole, feeling the warmth around the digit; then a second finger slipped inside followed by a third, them pushing, probing, relaxing, preparing the cub's hole for the imminent penetration.
Miles watched his father rise a bit, the old bear's white beard a contrast with the black hair of his body, slightly peppered with white strands of silver hair, there was "Y" shaped pattern of white fur that began on Patrick's collarbone, traveling down the chest and towards the groin, his crotch covered in white hair.
Patrick knelt before his son and rose the cub's legs, them resting against the old man's hirsute chest; spreading the arse as his aroused member kissed the puckered entry.
"Get ready son," He told Miles, who nodded; each bear's hand touching the others, fingers entwined.
Pushing, pressing; the two bears arched their backs as their consummated the incestuous relation. The father mounting his son in a slow deliberate motion, savoring the warmth surrounding his plunging member.
The warm summer breeze and the crickets witnessing the lovemaking between a werebear and his cub. Miles opened his eyes and saw his father looking at him. Tears from the old bear fell onto the cub's face, not from pain but of love; driving his unyielding member, shoving it into the depths of his son's willing passage.
Thrusting, pressing, plunging, breeding, impaling.
Then, Patrick's knuckles turning white as the hands tightened on his son's; yet the thrusts kept the same rhythm as he neared his climax.
Rapture came, but the old bear continued his steady thrusting, the father filling his son with viscous semen; slowing down until Patrick rested his head on his son's chest, heaving for a few minutes as his member slowly deflated and slipped from the cub's anus.
The two bears dozed in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow before the night became a bit too cold even for their hirsute bodies.
Patrick and Miles went downstairs, feeling a bit funky with sweat and bodily fluids and showered, scrubbing each other before leaving the bathroom, wet and aroused because of the fondling under the warm water.
Miles was drying his body when he hugged his father from behind, kissing the old bear as they saw their reflection through the mirror. Miles standing a few inches taller than Patrick, the cub a spitting image of his father except for the color of the fur.
He asked his father "What does it feels like?"
Patrick opened an eye and said "Hrm?"
"You know, what does it feels like to be with Him?"
It was my cue to enter, "Then why don't you ask me?" I made Miles jump.
"Jesus Christ! Where the fuck did you popped out?" He said, "You're a real mood killer you know?"
The cub made me laugh so hard I needed to sit on the bed; when the laughter passed away I looked at him, "Come here little bear, for this night be my lover."
Miles stepped unsure, a bit overwhelmed but his father comforted him. He knelt before me, my cock pulsing in rhythm with my heart. Patrick looked at me, resting on a chair, calm and stroking his member as his son held the base of my cock, my length slowly disappearing inside that blond bearded mouth.
Patrick headed towards us, his white beard pressed against my graying one, his right hand trailing down his son's back and the cub moaned when his father touched his anus. I stroked my lover's ample cock, stimulating the silky foreskin of his member.
My fingers touched Miles behind the ears, lifting him as if he weighted as much as a feather; my cock in his breath as we locked lips. The cub did not felt the change of my body, nor listened to the sound of flesh and bone shifting; Patrick smiling at his unaware son who had his eyes closed.
When he opened them, he saw me with wide open eyes. Pulling from the kiss he observed me and his hands roamed my body, feeling me, exploring me; then he looked at my head, his fingers touching my horns.
His father rubbed his son's shoulders and whispered, "Never mistake him from that fallen angel."
I rose from the bed, standing now much bigger than him.
"Jesus Christ." He said.
"Wrong God." I replied.
"I mean," He paused, "I..." But I laid a finger between his lips. My other hand pressing his body against mine, trailing down and parted his cleft; Miles arched his back, my finger caressing his puckered entry, the touch never the same as the one of a mortal.
I looked down at him, "Are you ready?" his eyes misty as my finger pushed into him, his cock pulsed and a thick gob of precome mixed with semen matted my belly.
He was ready as anyone should be. Miles turning his back at me, my swollen phallus rested on his cleft; his father comforting him as I lowered a bit, parting his cheeks and my cockhead touched his puckered entry.
Patrick stroked his son's cock, whispering words of comfort to the cub before he knelt down, taking his son's cock into his mouth.
Then I pushed in, his rectal muscles undulating around my swollen cock as I sheathed my member inside him. One thrust and he moaned, a second thrust and his body writhed, a third thrust and he came, feeding his father with his grandchildren.
But I didn't stopped, my mounting continued, my lover's son becoming my lover; mounting him, breeding him, taking him. My pace increased, by balls drawing closer to my body, my young lover writhing as I bellowed, spurting my orgasm inside his bowels, and for an instant; Miles knew how it felt to be a God, how it felt to see through the hearts of those close to you, their joy, their sorrow, their love.
Patrick ravenously nursing on the cub's second orgasm, afterwards pulling from the pulsing member, his white beard matted with his son's pearly seed. He rubbed his beard against the swollen seedsacks, longing to be filled by his son.
I pulled my cock from his hole, the anal ring clinging onto my stem not wanting to be left empty. Patrick climbed onto the bed, on his hands and knees; his bare ass in front of Miles.
"Go ahead Miles," I said, as I stroked his cock, guiding it towards my lover's hole.
Father and son moaned, one being filled by his son and the other one as his father's rectal passage embraced his throbbing bearhood.
Miles rode his father with ardor, pounding hard into the tight passage I have known so well; he paused when my cockhead touched his cleft, spearing the bear cub once more.
The night went on, the silence broken with the grunts of the mating between us three. With every of my orgasms within the cub, he became more and more aware of the events surrounding him until my last drop of seed filled him; Miles rubbing his abdomen against mine, my soft cock still inside him; his father laying on my left side, caressing his son's back.
Patrick looked at me with pained eyes; Miles looked at his father with tears streaking down his face. "It's time for you to go back." The old bear caressed his son's forehead.
"I know but..."
Patrick laid a finger on his son's lips, "When you two became one, what did you felt?"
"Love, pain, regret," He then became aware, "Finn... Karl..."
I caressed the cub's hairy back, "Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, we want them to be stronger, much more than us but eventually something will go wrong."
Patrick leaned forward and kissed his son.
Miles said "It was never their intentions to hurt me, I am closer to them than anyone else has ever been." He looked at his father, "But what am I supposed to do? Pretend that it didn't happened?"
"No," Was the only answer that came from Patrick, "Just don't keep it pent up inside and of all things remember who you are and what they are."
Miles closed his eyes as he felt his father caress his right cheek, "Miles?" Patrick asked.
"Yes dad?"
"Wake up."
***
Miles' body laid on a stone altar where they found him, the two bears were struggling as they gave the cub CPR; Finn using his hands to massage Miles' heart Karl giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
"Come on!" Cried Finn, "Don't you fucking die..."
"How did he knew how to do this..." Said Karl between gasps.
My cue was on and all of a sudden I stood before them followed by an aura that surrounded the three of them; Bacchus was right, a dramatic entrance does have an effect but I should keep this to myself, the last thing I want to hear from him is all that bragging for decades to come.
The two old bears knelt as I looked down at them, I rose my right hand and the cub breathed again, opening his eyes briefly before closing them again, the cub's breathing calm and peaceful.
"The healing for this cub has begun," I said with a booming voice, "It is time for you two to begin yours." Their eyes lit up, feeling a weight begin to lift from their hearts, the pain still there but lessening, my gaze turned towards Finn, "My debt with your son has been paid."
Then with the same flash I was gone, or at least from their sight. Patrick stood next to me as we saw the three talk, exchanging glances and eventually hugged each other, the two old warriors and their cub crying full of forgiveness.
Patrick kept looking at the scene, "Don't you think it was a bit too rushed?" He asked.
I looked at him, "Rushed? I had to bend time for almost seven months! Do you have any idea for how long Father Time will bitch about it?"
My lover just chuckled, "It was well worth the effort though," Then he gave me a lecherous look, "You never owed me anything."
"Drama my love, people adore drama."