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I had never felt more out of place in my life than when I first set foot into that bar. It was the sort of place that cowboys and lumberjacks went to unwind after a long day of shoeing horses and clearcutting forests. The sort of place where burly bears would congregate with massive bulls and trade stories of bygone days and manly exploits.

And yet there I was, a diminutive little lion in the face of some some of these gargantuan beasts. Every head in the bar turned as I walked by, eyes fixed on me on me in what felt like a unified glare. I was sure that I was unwelcome, and for good reason. I was a trespasser that had the audacity to tread upon their inner sanctum of masculinity; a boy who dared to sit at the table of men.

But I was already there, and damn if I wasn't going to at least take in the sights. Regardless of any contempt or spite they might have had for me, the men were gorgeous, and a half hour spent ogling sexy man ass would at least feel like it was worth the trip. I took my seat at the bar and did my best to swallow my anxiety as the bartender made his way over from the other side of the room.

I was half-expecting him to pull me off my stool and kick me out, but the leather-clad otter just stood beside me, leaned over the bar on one arm, and very politely asked to see my ID. I obliged and pulled out my driver's license for him to inspect.

He nodded, thanked me, and put his paw on my butt for a moment. I nearly jumped right out of my seat. That was already more attention than I had expected to get, but I quickly wrote it off as him just being friendly. He was the bartender, after all, and I imagined that sort of thing was what it took to get tips.

Now, when a different paw slipped down the back of my pants and took a firm hold of one of my cheeks, that's when I really started to take notice. My head snapped to the side, and I choked at the sight of the huge grizzly bear that was manhandling my rear end.

"Hey, cubby," he whispered to me in a flirty growl, the beer on his breath nearly bowling me over. "Haven't seen you in here before. This your first time?"

I took a brief moment to collect myself and try to relax, doing my best to appear calm and, you know, not seem like I was about to cream my pants.

"First time here, yeah." I gave him my best coy smile, even as he started to grope and squeeze.

"Figured. You looked a little nervous coming in. How old are you?"

His thick fingers started to worm their way inward, teasing under my tail and between my cheeks. Every bit of fur on my body was standing on end as he boldly threatened at those sensitive areas. It took all of my strength to keep from purring.

"I'm, uh... twenty-one."

"Twenty-one, huh? You really are a cub. This your first time in any gay bar?"

He pulled his hand out of my pants, and I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or disappointed. What I was sure of, was that the rest of the bar had resumed staring at me. It was then that I realized that it wasn't out of disapproval. I would have felt a little self-conscious if not for three-hundred pounds of bear demanding my attention.

"Well, ah, yessir, it is."

His brow raised, and a toothy grin slowly spread across his face.

"Yes sir? Careful, cubby. You're gonna get me excited talking like that."

My heart was pounding, and I picked through my brain for a way to respond. My throat suddenly felt dry, and all I could manage was a nervous laugh. He seemed amused at my predicament.

"Well tell you what, since it's your first time, and since you're so damn cute, how about I buy you a round?"

I thought my cheeks were going to burn right off of my face when he said that. I had to decline, of course. I was driving, and the cab fare would have been murder. But he didn't seem all that disappointed. Instead he just smacked the bartop and called for the bartender.

"Hey, Marcus, get the kid a soda for me, would ya?"

The otter rolled his eyes, but set a frosty mug of cola in front of me and patted my paw.

"Don't let him scare you off, he's just a big teddy bear under the tough guy act."

The bear waved his paw at him like he was swatting at a fly, growling in protest. I couldn't help but chuckle as the bartender strutted away shaking his head.

"I swear, he has it out for me. Don't listen to a thing that guy says, he's nothing but trouble!"

The big smile on his face betrayed the annoyance in his voice, and I could tell there was at least a hint of truth in the otter's teasing.

Before too long, we got to talking. It was the usual icebreaker stuff: he wanted to know if I was working, if I was in school, what my plans were for the future, what I liked to do for fun. He shared some stories of his time in the navy and told me about some of his college exploits and the different jobs he'd worked. But it started to become difficult to focus on conversation when he put his paw on my knee, and even more so when he started to rub back and forth on his way up my inner thigh.

And then came the kiss. I don't know why it surprised me considering that he introduced himself by nearly sticking a finger up my ass, but it did. He leaned in and looked me in the eyes, his muzzle a short inch away from my own. He waited there a moment, probably to see if I'd back away or ask him to stop, but I didn't do either.

I half-expected him to just shove his drunken tongue into my mouth, but he started off very gentle and sweet. He cocked his head sideways a bit and pressed his lips against mine, parting them ever so slightly. We both closed our eyes, and I just sort of drifted off until I could hear was the music playing over the speakers.

It got a little more passionate when he started to paw at my cock through my shorts. He nipped at my bottom lip and started to tease at my front teeth with his tongue as he sized me up, squeezing me until I let out an audible little moan.

Now, I wasn't a virgin at the time by any stretch of the imagination. But up until that point, guys like that bear always seemed completely out of reach and unattainable. Even as we made out, I thought that there was no way it was going to go beyond that. I figured he'd get bored of me, hop off of his stool, and wish me a good rest of the night to go find some other manly stud like himself to take home.

Instead, he stood up and informed me that he had to take a piss, and that I'd be accompanying him. I wasn't really in the mood to argue, so I followed along.

I was caught off-guard when the bear pushed me into the bathroom. I thought--or hoped, I guess--that would be the part where he shoved me against the wall and took what he wanted from me.

But he just sauntered up to the urinal and unzipped his jeans, staring over at me with a cocky smile. I took my place at the one next to him despite not having to piss. I thought, "what the hell," and fished out my dick anyway. He craned his head over to take a peek at what I was working with, and nodded in approval. I took that as an open invitation to look at his, and my jaw hit the floor when I did.

The guy had a goddamn python swinging between his legs. The length of his cock was well above average, but the thing looked about as big around as my wrist. The head was partially hidden by about the tightest looking foreskin I'd ever seen, but he seemed to be making a show of peeling it back before he started to pee.

"You got yourself a nice dick there, cubby. You like mine?"

He had to have known the answer considering how long I'd been staring, but I knew he wanted to hear it.

"Fuck yeah, I do...."

He smirked and shook his cock until the last couple of drops fell into the urinal. But he didn't put it away. Instead, he turned towards me and sort of hefted it up in his paw, like he was showing me the weight of the thing.

"You wanna play with it?"

My paws shot out like I expected him to change his mind, and I cupped the thing in my palms . I revelled in its warmth and the slow, steady pulse as it started to engorge. I didn't expect it to get any bigger, but it did. I wrapped both of my paws around it and started to pump up and down, marvelling at the sight of that foreskin stretching around the bulbous head of that big bear dick.

"Yeah, that's a good boy..." he growled at me, reaching over to run his paws through my mane.

He took a gentle hold of that fur and slowly started to tug me down. He didn't pull enough for it to hurt, but it was firm enough to suggest that I make my way down onto my knees. I thought he was intimidating enough when I was staring him in the face, but kneeling down on the linoleum tile and looking up at him from under his cock made me feel completely and utterly helpless. It scared me a little how aroused that made me.

One of his massive paws rested on the back of my head, gently urging me towards his dick. Totally unnecessary, of course. With that thing right in front of my face, it would have taken him some serious effort to keep me off. I opened my muzzle wide, careful to curl my lips over my sharp teeth, and slid that fat piece of bear meat right into my mouth. I took a deep breath through my nose, and in another swift motion, I had him stuffed down my throat.

It took everything in me not to gag, and I couldn't help but sputter around him as he shifted his hips to push a little deeper. My eyes started to water as I swallowed around him, and I knew I was close to hitting my limit. The deep, guttural moan he let out made it worth it, though.

"God damn, cubby, it sure isn't your first time doin' that!"

I felt a little proud of myself for impressing him, but I knew there was no way I could deepthroat him to completion. Not without going hoarse for a week, anyway. I went back to fitting what I could in my muzzle, bobbing up and down while reaching in to roll his huge, furry nuts in my paw. He didn't seem to complain, especially not when I started getting wrapped up in using my tongue to play with his foreskin.

I got so focused on slobbering on that bear's cock, I had completely forgotten the tension I had felt earlier in the night. I just tuned everything else out aside from the fat pole in my mouth and the quiet words of encouragement that came from above. It made it that much more alarming when someone opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. My eyes went wide and my fur stood on end as the reality of the situation set in. There I was, blowing a stranger in a bar bathroom, and now there was somebody there with us to witness my shame. I tried to pull off of my mouthful of bear dick, but the firm paw on the back of my head kept me in place.

I closed my eyes in pure embarrassment. I had no choice but to keep sucking. The bear just kept on moaning and growling like nothing had changed, even when... whoever the hell it was stood right next to us at the urinal and started to piss. In retrospect, I think I enjoyed it, but it can be hard to decide what is fun and what is terrifying when your heart is beating out of your chest and you're having your mouth violated in a public public place by a man twice your age.

Well I guess that particular bar patron was used to what he was seeing, because as far as I know, he finished his business, washed up in the sink, and made his way back out into the bar without so much as a word. The bear didn't stop to discuss it, he didn't suggest we stop, and he didn't suggest we move somewhere more private. He just kept fucking my muzzle.

And he didn't stop for a really, really long time. Several more people came and went, not a one of them making any fuss about our lewd display. Spit and other fluids started to drip down my chin, soaking into my fur and mane, and my jaw was becoming agonizingly sore. Maybe he looked down and realized what he was doing to me, or maybe he just got tired of that particular hole, but either way, I counted it as an act of mercy when he pulled his sloppy, wet dick from out of my mouth.

He jerked himself for a bit while I caught my breath and stretched my jaw muscles, but it didn't take him long to tell me what he had on his mind.

"Did you bring any condoms with you, cubby?"

I fidgeted a little at the question, but reached into my back pocket to pull out the two condoms I had brought along with me; my tokens of optimism for the night. The bear looked at the squares of foil in my paw, then down at his dick, and then back up at me.

He didn't even have to say it. They were way too small for him, made for guys more on the average side like myself. But he grinned like he had found some sort of genius solution to our problem.

"You know," he said in that growling whisper of his, "I don't want to pressure you to do anything you think'd be stupid... But you can take my word that I'm squeaky clean."

So that was my choice. I could either gamble with a guy I had just met, or I could completely ignore the thoughts of him stuffing my ass that were flooding my brain. If you asked me today what the right decision would be, I would tell you it would be to pursue safer sex and not take chances. There are plenty of guys out there, after all, and plenty of opportunities to get laid without risking your personal health.

I guess I had lost track of my better judgement that night, though, because he had me bent over in the handicapped stall in a matter of minutes. He must have wanted it just as bad as I did, because right away, he yanked my tail up and over my back, tugged my pants down under my ass, and crammed his tongue right against my hole, prying at it for entry before slipping in. He tongue-fucked me open for a little bit, making a point of slobbering and spitting over my hole. I was a mess of purrs and mewls as he ate my ass, grooming it for his entrance.

And then he stood up. I looked back at him over my shoulder nervously as he lined up his shot, his fat head pressed right up against my pucker. Luckily for me, both were still coated in spit, making what could have been the most unbearable pain in my life somewhat tolerable.

"Sorry, cubby, this is gonna be a tight fit," he groaned as he plowed in.

I gripped at the metal bar on the side of the wall to brace myself as I fought back roars of pain. No amount of fingering or rimming would have really prepared me for what was being forced under my tail. I just had to grit my teeth and endure it until my ass threw in the towel and stopped registering pain.

I remember being thankful as he hilted inside of me, taking that brief moment to adjust to the massive girth before he started to rock back and forth. The entry was rough, sure, but he certainly did his best to open me up after he was already in, slowly sliding out just a couple inches before pushing back inside. The red-hot pain in my rear started to subside into a dull warmth as I loosened up, and I couldn't help but moan in pleasure as the bear behind me started to respond with harder, longer thrusts.

It wasn't long before he was pounding me wholesale, his balls slapping against mine as I arched my back, mewling in desperation as I begged for him to go deeper. He experimented with giving my ass the occasional smack and tugging at my tail, and I did not mind either one bit, let me tell you. The closer he came to orgasm, the dirtier his teasing became, and the rougher he treated my ass.

"That's it, cub," he snarled as he jackhammered me into the wall, "papa bear's gonna breed your ass good. You want all of papa's cum, don't you, cubby?"

I'm not ashamed to admit that I begged for it. It was dangerous, it was risky, and it was stupid, but I pleaded and I cried for that bear to pump my ass full of his load, and he was more than happy to deliver.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace from behind as he slammed home under my tail. I shuddered as he let out an earth-shaking groan, signalling his climax deep inside of me.

And just like that, the deed was done. He held me like that for a little while, rubbing through my belly fur and nuzzling at my ear and shoulder until he went soft and slipped out of my thoroughly abused hole.

I wasn't exactly sure what to say as we zipped back up, so I didn't say anything at all. We went back to the bar for one last drink, and we traded numbers before we went our separate ways.

I'm sad to say that I gave up on trying to meet with him again. I tried calling, of course, but I all I could seem to get were lukewarm responses and reasons why he was busy. I didn't want to annoy the poor guy over what was probably just some drunken fun to him, so I let it go. Regardless of whether he wanted to follow up or not, he had given me one hell of a confidence boost, and I really appreciated that. I still get kind of nervous around bigger guys these days, but at least I know I might have a shot.