Mitch
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MITCH
By Stormcatcher
Yo! How's it goin'?
Guess I better introduce myself right off the bat. My name's Mitch Guilder. I think the last name's definitely taken from an old medieval Brit family somewhere in history, given the "guilder" thing, and I'm cool with that. "Guild" is kind of a vague word, because it could've been relating to several trades, back then-but I like to hope that I'm directly related to a line of blacksmiths or weapon-makers. I could just see some burly, hunky dude with big muscles and ripped arms pounding away at a sword blade or axe that's been heated so hot, that it's literally glowing. Now that's a hard-working male, one that deserves a good blowjob or a hot little ass or pussy to pound after a long day at the smelting pit. And while I definitely don't got the pussy, I've been told that my ass is just about as tight, if not tighter-and I'm pretty goddamn proud of all the compliments that men and women alike have given me about my oral and cock skills.
Not that I flash my libido around, or nothin', you understand. But hey, who don't like a little bit of ego masturbation, every once in awhile?
You can probably tell by the way I talk that I don't exactly hobnob with the socially and financially elite, and I'm admittedly about as middle-class whitebread as you can get. Hell, if things keep going the way they're going, there's gonna be fewer middle class folks around than rich ones.
Species-wise, I'm an otter-which more than makes up for any other shortcomings me or my family might have, in my not-so-humble opinion. What's not to like? My metabolism's jacked through the roof, so I can eat damn near anything I want, and as long as I hit the gym three times a week or so, I stay nice and toned. I can swim like a motherfucking shark, sprint like a demon with his ass on fire, and I know a few martial arts moves, too. Nothing too flashy-a smattering of karate with a little bit of tae kwan do thrown in-but it's just enough to keep my ass nice and firm while it also keeps said ass outta trouble.
Oh. Age. I'm seventeen, just so ya know. Old enough to drive my beater of a Toyota Carolla around town, but technically not old enough to buy booze-not that I've let that stop me. I'm luckier than a lot of dudes my age because I look a helluva lot older than I am. I've got the build to make me an even match for most of the jocks at my school, so I can pretty much walk into any convenience store, flash my fake I.D., and get all the brew I want-but that's not really a challenge, and any moron my age can pretty much find a way to get his handpaws on some beer when you live in a middle-sized podunk like the one I hail from. Hell, that's what kegger parties are for, and I've drunk my share of the Boone's Farm, and even the really nasty shit, like Night Train (they musta named it that 'cause that's what feels like it's going through your head, the next morning). You do the puke-up sick, retch-till-you're-dry-heaving thing once, and you find out how overrated it is real quick. I like to go for the pricier stuff, but that doesn't mean that I buy it. It's amazing how far you can go with a little charm, a warm smile, and getting personally chummy with some of the package store owners in town, especially if some of 'em have wives that won't suck 'em off. I do a little muzzle magic on their johnsons till they pop their load a couple times, and they're damn near shoving bottles of high-end booze at me to show their gratitude.
Uhh...do ya get the idea that I'm more than a little bit of a free spirit, sexually?
Yeah. Thought you would. But just in case you haven't clued in yet, I love to fuck. Love it. When I got some hot guy begging me to ass-slam him harder with my dick, or whimpering around a mouthful of my cock, it absolutely makes my day. And although I'm mostly into guys, sometimes I like to eat me out a nice, tight pussy, too. It's so funny how most chicks will turn their noses up at the idea of stuffing a dick into their mouths, but you get 'em on a tabletop or up against a wall somewhere and show 'em how to beat up that little man in the boat with your tongue, and they'll gasp and squeal and wriggle all over the goddamn place like an octopus hopped up on speed. Guys are the same way about getting sucked off, even the ones that claim that they'd never let another guy touch 'em down there. Married guys, especially-man, I've lost count of the number of husbands out there that've shot their pearls down my throat, then treated me like I saved their fucking lives, afterward. It's funny, but it's also kinda sad. All these poor guys want is some quick pleasure, and they don't really give a damn who gives it to 'em as long as they do a decent job with it. Makes me think I'd make a damn good housewife, if the idea of crossdressing and doing housework all day long didn't make me wanna boot.
You also might be asking yourself right now what makes me think I'm so special. I've been talking up my affinity for making folks pop it pretty hard, haven't I? And it's not like I'm all that in the looks department. Sure, my body's decent. I'm got some definition in my upper body, including a nice six-pack that you can't really see through the brown body fuzz unless you're running your fingers through it (but a lot of folks do that, so they find 'em soon enough). I'm about 5'11", weigh about 220 pounds, a decent chunk of that muscle. Tight, snug ass, what I'm told is a killer grin, golden-brown fur around the tail edges and over my chest, and a little bit more on my throat, but jet black fuzz everywhere else, including the tophair. My clothes aren't anything special, either: I tend to stick with black jeans, worn-out tee shirts, and my dad's old military camouflage jacket. It goes good with my workboots, and that military thing generally keeps the bully-types from fucking around with me, unless I want it to be fucking of another kind.
Bottom line?
It's the cock. No question about it. If I do say so myself, I've got thirteen inches of the hottest, warmest, most filling semen-spitter that ever filled out a crotch section in a pair of denims. That thirteen is anything but an unlucky number for me, lemmee tell ya.
And don't even sit there and gape at me like you don't believe it. I've seen plenty of pics online of guys my age with cocks that are just as long-I've even swapped pics with a few of 'em, although I was careful to keep my face out of the frame. The only difference between me and them is that they're getting paid to flash those cocks of theirs around, and I'm not-because I'm smart enough to keep a low profile about it.
So I keep things simple, and the folks that want to make return visits to what I've got bopping around between my legs make real sure that they play by my rules. It's pretty amazing how sometimes really cool shit will happen to me just because I give someone some fun for a little while.
Case in point: lemmee tell ya about how I got my PlasmaTIX system.
Yes, THAT system. The hottest console system of the Christmas season for this year, the one a lot of parents out there have nicknamed the "Give Plasma" system, because they claim that you practically have to sell your own blood to get one, much less find one. And while I don't see myself as overly materialistic or a guy that's easily wowed by new technology, even I had to admit, it's a pretty impressive little box. This thing renders real-time graphics with two 512 MB processors, one for the GPU and one for central processor itself, and even when the screen is packed with shit, there's not an ounce of slowdown. The controllers are wireless, and they'll work from over 100 feet away even if there's stuff in between it and the unit. It can do nearly anything that a higher-priced entertainment center can do, including burning and playing CD's and DVD's, music media files of all kinds, and connect online with other Plasma and computer users, if you wanna do the MMORPG thing. My buddy Halston got one from his dad, who's a project manager for a major electronics company that makes the memory chips for the thing-and when he invited me over to spend the night and fool around with it, I got so sucked into the game we were playing that even his unzipping me and swallowing down my crank almost didn't distract me-note that I said, almost. Hal is my age, and he's a bit of a nerd-but he's a totally nice guy who doesn't act like the spoiled-ass rich boy he could be. He sort of hero-worships me, because he's one of the only dudes I trust enough to tell all about my little sexual misadventures-and given how good he is at sucking cock, I'm kind of surprised he doesn't have more of his own.
Anyway-so I got to play with the thing, and I resigned myself to the fact that I probably wouldn't get one until it had been out on the market for a while and came down in price, or unless I could get one used. My parents split up when I was eight, and although my dad left my mom our small house, she works a full-time job during the week and a part-time job on weekends to make sure ends meet.
I was hanging out at Woodsfield Mall, a couple miles away from my neighborhood. It was Christmas Eve, the home stretch of the finishing of the shopping madness-and the place was packed. Normally, I hate crowds-but mom had one of her very rare days off, and I decided to vacate the house so she could get some much-needed sleep, and it's always fun to watch other parents battle it out over the overpriced, hard-to-find toys that their kids are screaming for. I hung around the joint until nearly closing time, and I had just stopped into the public restroom near the food court to take a piss before I headed for home. I'd had some pretty fun encounters with horny guys in some of the bathrooms at the place, but mostly the ones inside some of the bigger department stores-nobody really bothered looking for cock near the food court, because there was nearly zero privacy. Many of the other stores had already locked up their security gates for the night, and the security guards were politely but insistently starting to shoo shoppers towards the exits. The restroom was empty, and I was nonchalantly pissing away into one of the wall urinals when who should walk in but the mall Santa. Or rather, I oughta say that he hobbled in. I did a double-take at the poor guy-he was an older gent of the ursine persuasion, a bear with just the requisite amount of belly and a thick, full beard that looked so authentic, I couldn't tell if it was real or not. His hat was sitting crookedly on his head, and he was walking as though both his legs were sore because they probably were-the red material of his pants was matted down over his lap, and it looked like there were one or two wet spots on it, too-parting gifts from some of the younger cubs that didn't have the bladder-control thing down yet. He looked exhausted as he headed for the wall urinals, stopping at the one two urinals down from mine as he unzipped his pants and tugged out his cock, his back slumped over and just a little bit of heavy breathing coming from his nostrils. He glanced over at me and gave me a brief nod and a surprisingly warm smile, which I returned pleasantly.
"Hey, look on the bright side, man-you made it!" I rumbled to him as my piss stream started to diminish. "It's all over till next year, and now you can go home and relax-unless you're gonna play Santa for your own family, that is."
He chucked deeply and shook his head, smiling over at me as he urinated. "Made it by the skin of my teeth, I tell you what. Every year, it's the same thing-I tell myself that I'm getting too old to do this, and every year I do it anyway. It's worth it to see the kids' faces," he explained. "And I get to do it one more time tomorrow for my own grandkids, after I wash the kiddie piss out of this suit," he grimaced, looking down at his pants.
"You sure look the part," I commented, giving my cock a vigorous shake-off as I finished up. "Your grandkids are lucky."
He looked over at me again, his face a little surprised, but in a good sort of way. "Why, thank you, young man. Not often I get compliments from fellows your, uhh...age," he rumbled, his eyes glancing down a moment at my cock. I wasn't trying too hard to hide it as I shook it, and it's sort of a reflex action that I don't really pay much attention to-but when a dick is as big as mine is, even minor movements and shiftings can be easily noticed-especially if it's being flopped around like a rag doll head. And given that I don't have a sheath, it's easy to see everything I got, so he got a clear eyeful-which is probably why he paused in his speech. His muzzle hung open a bit as his eyes widened, and I glanced down at myself, then over at him again, faking a puzzled look-and when he didn't tear his gaze away for another few seconds, I knew I had a winner. I smiled at him again, slowly, glancing over at his own cock. Grandpa bear was decently-sized, only about three inches shorter than I was-but as his fingers trembled a bit when his pissing finished and he fumbled with his cock, I noticed that he had a foreskin which hugged nicely around his thick mushroom-headed cock knob. Bingo. If there's one thing that makes my own dong stand up straight and makes my balls wanna tap dance, it's a daddy with a wrapped sausage, and from the way the guy had been checking me out, I knew he was interested. All I had to do was figure out how to reel him in, so I bought myself some time by starting to stroke myself a little bit. Not full-bore jacking off, just some nice, subtle palm action down my shaft to make me stiffen up some. The bear dude saw what I was doing, and he swallowed visibly, starting to breathe a little hard again-but he took a half-step back from the urinal so I could see the rest of his dick, his face blushing furiously through his fur as though unable to believe what he was doing, wiggling his own cock a little as though trying to dry it off-but I could see him starting to firm up, and I looked from it back up to him, perking an eyebrow at him in the obvious unspoken question.
"So, uhh...Guess you were about to head home yourself, eh, young fella?" he rumbled nervously.
I nodded a little, then shrugged. "Guess so, unless something or someone happens that gives me a good reason not to," I smirked. "Where you live, mac?"
He lifted a black-gloved hand and pointed through the wall towards the parking lot outside, his smile lighting up again in a bit of hope at my answer. "Oh, very close by-walking distance, in fact. There's an apartment complex across the way, which makes it real convenient. I don't even have to drive."
"Hey, that is nice," I nodded. "But you know, it's awfully cold out there, tonight-in fact, I think it's snowing pretty hard, from what I saw a few minutes ago. Why don't you let me give you a lift home?"
He hesitated, his smile fading just a bit as he stared down at his own cock, as though not believing that he was starting to get a hardon. I've seen that look on older guys' faces before, and no matter how many times I see it, it never fails to be so goddamn cute. It's the whole internal dialogue that flickers across their faces: 'Holy shit, that kid's got a huge dick,' followed by 'What the hell am I thinking? He's not even half my age-I've got grandchildren as old as he is.' Then comes 'Still...he looks like he's here by himself. Closing time, no parents around...maybe I could talk him into just letting me jerk him off.'
"Well..." he rumbled, looking back over and down at my cock again as he fingered his own crank a little, "I have to say, that's very nice of you, but I wouldn't want your parents to worry about you for staying out too late, err...say, what's your name?"
He took the bait and was running with it, so I sealed the deal by turning brazenly to him and flipping my cock up with my hips, catching it neatly in my boxers as I carefully zipped back up, giving him a big grin. "Mitch," I said. "And don't sweat my parents, I came here by myself. And don't tell me not to go through the trouble, either-it's not like it's out of my way."
He turned to face me after glancing over his shoulder to make sure that no one was around, then gave me a good look at his own cock, which he almost had some trouble getting back into his pants because he was stiffening up so hard. He smiled at me and zipped up slowly as he rumbled, "Mitch, you're very kind. I accept, and I think it's safe to say that you'll be at the top of my "Nice" list, this year," he joked.
I winked at him and moved over to the sinks as we washed our hands, and I smirked at him as I murmured, "Thanks, Santa. But I have to admit, there's a little something to be said for being on the "Naughty" list, too,."
The bear chuckled, and he followed me out to the mall entrance, then to my car as I unlocked the passenger side for him, then got in and started it up. The apartments he'd been talking about were in plain sight from the parking lot, and the snow swirled around my ride as he guided me to his apartment. I let the engine idle and kept the headlights on, the snow wafting through the beams of light as I turned to my passenger, who suddenly looked like he wasn't real eager to get out. He looked down at his lap, his second thoughts registering on his face, then glanced shyly over at me, that cute-as-all-get-out grin on his features. "Well. Uhh...Guess I better be letting you get back home, eh, Mitch? Thank you for giving me a ride-err...say, I don't suppose I could interest you in a soda or something, or maybe some hot chocolate?" he stammered suddenly. "You know, just as m-my way of saying thanks."
I nodded agreeably, switching the headlights and motor off. "Sure, that'd be great. Never a good idea to turn down kindness from Santa," I grinned.
We got out and I locked up my car, then he fumbled around for his keys as I stood shivering a bit in the cold. I could tell that his nervous fingers were more from what he and I were about to do, as opposed to the actual weather-but I acted nonchalant, following him inside and taking off my boots even as he took off his, setting both pairs down on the tile floor just inside the doorway. I followed him into his place, which was modestly-sized, but decent enough, for a bachelor pad. Couch, television, recliner, small bookcase, couple of pictures of his family and grandkids sitting on top of the bookcase and on the walls-the kind of shit one might expect for an old dude. We stepped into his makeshift kitchenette, which was really just a tiled part of his dining room with a fridge and stove attached. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and looked around the place as he opened the fridge and rummaged around.
"Nice place," I murmured. "You got an old lady living with ya, gramps?"
"Oh, no," he said, straightening up with a grunt as he proffered a cold can of soda at me. "My wife passed away about eight years ago, and I've been single ever since. No roommates, either." I took the can of soda from him and thanked him, and he smiled nervously. "Uhh...hope that cold caffeine is okay. I'd be glad to fix some coffee or cocoa, though, if you'd prefer."
I popped the top of the can and raised it to my muzzle, giving him a little shake of my head as I gave him a lingering, mischievous look. "Soda's fine," I said. "Thanks for letting me come in, by the way, although I bet you'd really love to get out of that piss-stained getup," I added, nodding at his suit.
He looked down at himself, eyes widening for a second and almost grateful for the reminder. "Oh! Oh, my, yes-jeez, I don't know what's wrong with some of those goddamn parents out there, giving their kid oceans to drink before they know that they're going to be sitting on someone's lap," he chuckled, nearly dropping his soda as he headed towards one of the two doors I saw in the place. I listened to him move around, and I couldn't resist as I smirked and called out to him.
"Yo, Santa-you better not be coming back out here with anything more than your boxer's on!" My shaft was starting to nudge around in my pants just thinking about what was coming, but I knew that I'd have to put a good-natured boot up Santa's ass verbally if I was gonna get him to make with the cock-flopping.
He poked his head out of his bedroom door, giving me a surprised look. "Err...I beg your pardon?"
I rolled my eyes and set my can of soda down on his kitchen table, then walked over to his recliner and flopped down onto it, unbuckling my belt and unzipping my pants in a way that left no mystery as to what I was doing. "You heard me," I smirked. "I saw the way you were looking at my dick in the men's john. You wanna wrap your lips around my dick so goddamn bad, it's making your ass crack tingle. So get your sexy old ass out here and get to nosing, I ain't got all night."
It was all I could do to keep from cracking up outright as he gaped at me, but then edged his way slowly out of his bedroom like a crab coming out from under a rock. He wasn't wearing anything but his own boxers now, and he had a respectable carpet of graying hair coating his chest to contrast with his beard and the darker hue of the brown fur all around the rest of his body. I nodded in approval as I casually gripped my length through my underwear, watching him approach. "Awww, yeah, that's right, daddy. C'mere and get your mouthful, you sexy older fuck."
He actually blushed then, rubbing his hands over his slightly extended paunch-gut as he snickered nervously. "Dang, son, that's quite the dirty muzzle you have on you! Sure hope you don't talk that way around your parents," he grinned. I could tell he was loving every minute, though, and he almost seemed demure as he gave me an uncertain look. "Do you...do you really think I'm sexy?"
"You fuckin' kidding me?" I snorted. "Dude-older guys make my cock stiff as a board. Bring your face down to my crotch," I ordered him, curling my finger on one hand and pointing a fingerclaw at my dick region with the other. He obeyed, slowly, as though battling with his mind.
"I...I really shouldn't be doing this," he gasped, the bulge forming in his own boxers giving his real feelings away as I pulled one leg up and over one of the armrests to give him better access. He sank to his knees between my legs as he hovered his face over my crotch, and I tugged my boxers down and flopped my dick out, smacking it up against his bearded muzzle with a sound from his cheek that was almost like a light hand slap. "Jesus, one of my grandsons is almost your age, and I..." As I started to smear my cock all over his face, though, his shyness evaporated and he clasped the fingers of both hands around it, smearing it all over his features as his eyes closed and he sucked his breath in, sniffing all over my prick as though he was trying to do a line of cocaine. "Oh, gods! Oh, sweet heaven, what a beautiful cock..." he gasped, stroking my thick glans knob over his lips. He kissed it a couple of times, then slowly began to lick all around it, making me inhale deeply and push back against the chair even as I curled my fingers into his tophair and urged his head down.
"Awww, fuck, yeah," I breathed, my eyes sliding shut. "That's the way to do it, gramps. I knew you wanted to suck that big cock the moment you laid eyes on it, didn'tcha?" My grin was ear to ear, and he did a rough approximation of a nod as his hairy brows quirked upwards, and an awkward grin touched up the corners of his mouth. I smirked sleazily at him, then patted the back of his head and wriggled my groin a little bit under his hand as he gripped my shaft. "C'mon, Santa. Show me how well you can suck off a bad little boy."
He didn't need much encouragement, but then, the married and formerly-married guys never do. He took a deep breath around his mouthful of dick, then slowly deep-throated the rest of my shaft to the fucking hilt. I couldn't believe it when his nose and lower lip were nudging against my groin and ballsac, but goddamn-daddy bear had himself some wicked breath control. I lolled my head back and let out a hell of a groan, and any other guy would've done the same-this old fucker's tongue felt like a satin glove around my sweat-stinking fuck flesh.
"Moth-er...FUCK!" I gasped, grinding my groin against his face in bliss as his big hands let go my shaft and worked their way under my thighs to grip my ass. He squeezed my buttcheeks like he was melon-testing, sealing my groin against his face as his drool oozed down my dong, a heady groan from his throat getting muffled by his sheer mouthful. "You done this before, h-haven't ya, Santa? Mmmm, something tells me you're gonna have to put yourself on your own "naughty" list..." I gripped his head and started to fuck his mouth with my pelvis, and he didn't protest-the old fart began to move with my strokes, his face squinched up in concentration as my balls began to slap lightly up against his chin. I watched through slitted eyes as my spit-greased prong slid wetly in and out of his muzzle, the veins shining as he ate my inches again and again. My length was painfully hard, and from the way gramps was pumping his head up and down on it, he pretty much gave me open season on declaring his mouth my official pussy for the next couple minutes. I dunno what it is about a guy with a thick beard, but if you can't get some real pussy, I swear that that's the next best fuckin' thing. It's a soft bed of pre-existing testicle cushioning that frames a cock better than any picture frame could ever hope to, and I knew that it wouldn't take long before he had me spurting my gunk all over his tongue. Santa-sleaze was damn good at cocksucking, and I wasn't quite ready to give up my load just yet. I decided to make him earn it, so I reluctantly slid my palms around to his forehead and pushed his face up and off my crank as I gasped hotly, panting for breath. My spit-soaked dong flopped messily back against my abs, and grandpa bear's eyes stayed closed and muzzle was still bobbing up and down for a few moments till he realized that there was no dick between his lips. He coughed and sputtered a little bit, then opened his eyes and looked up at me like I thought he was gonna cry, I swear to God.
"What?" he gasped. "What'd I do wrong? A-aren't you going to cum in my mouth?"
"I damn near did, gramps," I panted, leaning my face down to rub noses with him. "You didn't do a damn thing wrong-in fact, you were doing it a little bit too right, if you follow me. I don't wanna cum yet," I grunted, as I gripped his arm and tugged him to his feet, even as I wriggled out of my coat and shucked off my pants and boxers. His groin was nearly face-level with me now, and if there was any disappointment on his features or in his voice, it melted away the moment I started fondling his own dick through his underwear. I tugged his briefs down, and that gloriously thick uncut mushroom glans of his flopped forward and right into my hand. I tugged his foreskin back and nuzzled his cockhead, and his face slid into blissful mode again as his big hands slid onto my head, stroking my slick pelt. I looked up at him as I rolled his cockhead all over my tongue, treating it like a big ol' tube of Chap-Stick as I rubbed it all around my muzzle-and I could feel him starting to leak pre all over my tongue, and man, was that shit salty-tasting.
"You want my load in you, don't you, pops?" I murmured to him in a real low voice as I suckled on the upper part of his shaft. A sharp gasp tore from his throat, followed by a low groan that almost seemed like begging as his closed eyes and haggard face nodded vigorously. I smirked around his cock and popped it out of my mouth, smearing my fingers up and around it as I stroked him slowly. "Yeah, I thought you did. You were pumping my shaft with your head so fast that if you hadn't been as good as you are sucking dick, I mighta gotten friction burns. How you want me to give you my load, gramps?" I asked, my spit-soaked fingers sliding down his cock and over his balls. "Maybe I should fuck you good and hard. Wouldja like that? Pump that tight little shithole of yours till I blow my wad all over your prostrate?"
I smeared drool all over those big hairy nuts of his, feeling their weight in my palm before I moved my hand under his nuts and started to slide it back under his sphincter muscles and towards his lower ass crack. "Oh, but that wouldn't be right, would it? We couldn't have such a sweet old Santa bear like you begging some little thug piece of shit like me to fuck him like a little bitch, could we? My goodness, what if news of it got back to your grandkids?" I moved my fingers back to his cleft and pressed 'em in till I could feel part of his ass ring, and he gasped again, knees bowing forwards a bit in surprise as his eyes flew open, his muzzle dropping open, too-but the moment I started smearing spit around that pucker, you better believe he looked like he was getting a Swedish massage from a master. Never fails-you take any guy that claims to hate having his ass played with, rub his ring a little bit with a greased-up finger or dildo, and next thing you know, he's on his back and begging to have something crammed up in there. It's almost predictable, but it's still damn cute-and Santa gramps was no exception. He slapped a hand back and down to where my hand was to keep my fin gers busy on his ring, and he began to pump his cock halfway in and out of my mouth as his shaft swelled up to full erection in my muzzle. I could feel his thick knob starting to jut against the back of my throat as he groaned above me, and my own mouth curled into a knowing grin at the edges as he moaned his reply.
"Oh, shit," he gasped, his knees popping just a bit as he started to ride my face. "Mitch, your muzzle...gods, it feels so good..." His breath got shuddery and unsteady as I told him what I planned on doing, and again, he nodded wildly. "Do you...do you want to fuck me? I...I don't know if I could take all of you, y-your cock is so big..." But even as he said it, he reached down and nudged his gut against my forehead as he felt up my cock, which quivered stiffly in his palm as he wrapped his hand around it. His fat cock slid in and out of my muzzle slowly as I tasted a faint bit of his piss and pre, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. I heard his breath quiver as he stood over me, almost labored as his foreskin slid sloppily in and out of my muzzle as I sucked him till he was harder than he's probably been in ages. I slid my mouth off his dick and slapped my own cock up against his, and I gave them both a firm squeeze as I watched a fat drop of pre drip from his pisshole onto my crank. I smeared it all over my knob as I looked up at him, and we locked eyes for a second as I stroked his cock against mine. He hunched his dick slowly against mine, mouth slightly open, waiting for me to order him around.
"You got lube?" I demanded.
He nodded immediately. "In my nightstand," he rumbled, pointing back towards his bedroom. I let go of his cock and nodded, hauling myself off his chair with a grunt and heading for his bedroom door, giving his ass a playful slap on the way. He jumped a bit and rubbed his asscheeks in surprise, giving me a quirky little grin that faltered a little when he saw how thick my cock was as it slapped between my inner thighs.
"Righteous. C'mon, then, let's get to it," I said to him, beckoning to him from his bedroom door. He followed, looking both excited and unsure of himself. I stepped aside as he came into the bedroom, then watched him go to his nightstand and open it up, pulling out a tube of K-Y jelly that he laid on top of the nightstand. He sat on the bed and looked at me nervously, grinning stupidly as I watched him, stroking my meat lazily. I winked at him grimly, then nodded at the bed. "K-Y, hunh? Yeah, that'll work good. Lie down on the bed and bend your knees up, pops. Gonna prop your shins on my shoulders and work myself into you nice and slow so I can watch your face go all rocket launch when you cum."
He actually laughed then, sounding awkward and breathless as he hauled himself up onto the bed, his hairy gut jiggling as he raised his knees and spread his legs just enough so I could see his lower ass. He gripped his cock and stroked himself a few times as I stepped over and between his legs, a smug grin on my face as I gripped his shins and lifted them slowly up to my shoulders, one at a time. I felt like some kind of fucked-up gynecologist, only this time, the fucking I was about to administer was completely with patient consent.
"My heavens, Mitch-" he panted, his eyes widening a bit as he watched me get ready. "Such a vocabulary! D-did your mother used to wash out your muzzle with soap a lot, when you were younger?"
I chuckled at his question, giving one of his shins a pat as I edged up onto the bed and wedged my cockhead into his snug, warm asscrack. "Growing up the way I did, pops, you get a taste for all kinds of weird shit," I winked. "Hand me the fuck lube, willya, please?"
He nodded quickly and gave me the tube, and I unscrewed the top and squeezed a huge-assed glob of the stuff into my palm before setting the tube aside. I greased up my cock thoroughly with it, the sound wet and messy as I winced for a second and jumped some.
"You okay?" Santa bear asked me immediately, giving me a worried look.
I laughed and nodded at him, patting his hairy stomach as I said, "Yeah, gramps, I'm fine. The lube's just damn cold, that's all-but now that I got it good and juiced up, it oughta slide up into you real good."
He nodded, then laid his head back against the mattress as I squirmed around a little, getting back into position and pressing my cockhead up against his ring. A bit of sweat began to collect on my forehead, and I had to press myself pretty firmly against his pucker before I had a good angle-and I could tell from gramp's facial expression that he was more than a little worried about trying to take all of me, not that I blamed him. I curled my other hand around his cock and stroked it slowly as I grinned down at him and rumbled, "Relax, man. It's only gonna hurt after initial entry, but you just wait till I get more of it up in ya...gonna feel so good, yer gonna beg me not to take it out..."
He nodded again, breathing shallowly as he kept his eyes closed and waited for it to happen. He winced a little and stiffened up bodily as I finally pushed my glans past his ring, and we both heard me penetrate him as the squishing sound intensified for a second, then got muffled real quick, replaced by the slow, drawn-out squish of more of my cock following after my cockhead. I shuddered over him as I felt his tight inner fuck chamber close around my meat-this old fart was just about as snug as the babysitter who claims I took her virginity (but then again, that's what she got for sucking me off so well). I let out a tight groan as I slid further up into him, and I watched his stomach suck in a bit with his own sharp inhalation, then slowly expand again as he shuddered around me.
"Oh...Jesus," he panted, sweat dripping down his face. "Mitch, it's huge..."
"Yeah," I nodded weakly, sliding into him to the halfway mark. "How's it feeling, gramps?" I began to withdraw slowly, then eased myself back in, again only going halfway. "Want me to keep going, or stop and let you take a breather?"
"You better not stop!" he gasped, opening his eyes and fixing them on mine with a playful growl, a ragged grin stretching across his face as a big brown handpaw fumbled around to my ass to encourage me to keep pumping. "J-just...do it an inch at a time, till you're all the way in."
I nodded, and kept up the strokes nice and smooth, going in an inch further at a time after he'd adjusted-and finally, I slid all the way in, feeling my cockhead nudge against his inside gland as I gripped his legs and let out a hard groan. I kept myself hilted in him for a few minutes, my grin tight and my own eyes closed as I bore my weight down on him a bit.
"Unhh!" I gasped. "Th-that's it, pops-there ain't no more. You done took every fuckin' inch, Santa stud!"
"Holy shit," he groaned, his face squinched up in concentration. "H-...had an uncle that used to fuck me, when I was little-damned if you're not as big as he was," he gasped.
"You're shitting me!" I gaped, opening my eyes and looking down at him. Slowly, I began to fuck him proper, sliding my lube-soaked cock in and out of his snug shitter as my balls began to nudge against his ring repeatedly. "I woulda paid good money to see that, gramps-bet you were an awesome fuck, even back then."
"Ngggh...only one...d-difference between you and him," he grunted, one of his shins slipping off my shoulder and hooking itself around my upper left back and side as he gripped my thigh and ass with his hands as best he could, looking up at me through lidded eyes and a muzzle full of pleasure-seething teeth. "He actually came in me!"
That did it! My muzzle curled up at the edges, and I began to fuck ol' grandpa bear in earnest, his face melting into a happy expression again as the bed began to creak with my strokes. I slapped his ass hard with my balls, my thrusts getting harder on each pass as his groans of pleasure egged me on. His ass channel had become slick with lube and pre, making my work much easier-and the way his ring was clenching and squeezing around my prong, I knew that it wouldn't take me long to bust my nut up inside of him. I gripped his fat uncut cock and started to whale on it briskly, my spit and pre-slicked fingers stroking that loose foreskin rapidly as I felt his cock quiver in my grip. Having my glans beating his inner gland as firmly as it was had made him rock hard, and now he was at his full ten inches-pretty damned impressive, for an old coot. I watched his fat brown nuts bounce as I slammed his ring, and it looked like he was getting close to blowing a monster load of his own, and I was determined to wear it. I lowered my face to his groin as I lifted his cock up a bit and aimed it at myself, making with the filth-talk to make grandpa go over the edge.
"I'm gonna cum in ya, too, gramps," I snarled, my teeth bared as I rammed my cock up his shit chute as firmly as I dared. "Gonna bang you so hard, y-your fuckin' grandkids are gonna feel it in their beds..." I panted. "Fuck, I wish they could see me fuckin' their Santa gramps, right now...see how much of a cum slut you really are while ya beg a guy over half your age for his cum, 'cause you DO want my load, don'tcha, pops?"
"W-...worse than anything!" he begged, his head and beard lolling back as he struggled to push his ass ring back against my cock. "Oh, dear heavens, I w-want that load, Mitch...pump your Santa full of your cum!"
That was pretty much the trigger. His face and words told me how bad he really wanted it, and after about ten more thrusts, I knew I couldn't hold it any more. I jammed my cock up into him as hard as I possibly could, wrapping one arm around the leg of his that was still next to my head, my other hand flailing his cock as fast as possible as my balls jerked against his pucker, then I felt my cum rocketing up my shaft and spurting out against his shit chute. His innards got quite a jizz-painting, from the feel of things, and from the way he was writhing and gasping, he was loving every second of it. His eyes opened wide and a startled grunt grated out of his throat, and his mouth worked open and shut as though he were having a seizure as his inner walls gripped around my cock and milked it like a lactating mom's tit might get sucked by a baby's mouth. I couldn't tell if his own balls were jiggling the way that they were because of the way I was grinding against him, or because he was about to loose his own load-but I got my answer real quick when his midsection edged up a bit, and I felt that first warm squirting of his smelly cum against my chin. My eyes were still closed, and I lowered my face towards his stream so I could get a more proper drizzling of it, my teeth bared and getting spackled with his messy semen as I snarled my own release through them. Santa Gramp's hands and arms flopped back and away from me at that point, and he let out a yell of pure release, the sound quickly dying down as his cock kept spurting against my face. I could almost hear the jizz dripping off my cheeks and nose as he blasted my features with the stuff, but good, and I ground my cockhead up against his prostrate firmly until I was sure that he'd shot every ounce. By that time, my face pretty much looked like it had been attacked by a half-melted wedding cake, and it took quite a few minutes before we could both catch our breath.
"Oh, God," he finally gasped after his cock stopped twitching. "M-Mitch...where in heaven's name did you learn to fuck, like that?" he grunted, opening his eyes slowly to give me a surprised look that I couldn't see because his cum was covering my eyes. "Have you ever consider-...oh, my!" he chuckled. "I'm, ahh...afraid I made rather a mess of your face, there."
I smirked toothily at him as I smeared a hand over my eyes and got his cum off the upper portion of my features, then started down at his cum-spattered gut and the thick ooze of off-white coating my hand as I kept hold of his cock. "It was expected," I winked at him. "Glad you enjoyed, pops. That was a damn big load you hit me with, yourself."
I glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, and I winced, losing my smile. "Shit. And I didn't know that it was getting that late, this took longer than I thought." I slowly slid my way back out of him, then I eased his legs off of me as I planted his feet back on the mattress, the bear giving out a groan as that empty feeling that I know so well took the place of my thick dick up his ass. He managed to roll himself over on his side and watched me, propping his head sideways on one palm as I grabbed my clothes from the living room, dripping cum all over his floor as I went. I wasn't aware of that till I stepped in it on the way back into his bedroom, and I frowned. "Shit! Sorry, pops, I'm making a mess outta yer floor," I murmured.
He chuckled. "Don't worry about it, I'll clean up in a minute. Clean washcloths and soap in the bathroom, if you need 'em."
I smiled at him and nodded, heading for the john. "Thanks!" I called over my shoulder. I grabbed a clean cloth and ran the water, scrubbing my face and chest clean of his jizz before I dried off and got dressed. By the time I got back out to the living room, he was standing there still naked, with a large red velvet sack dragging on the floor. He had that sheepish, uncertain look on his face again, but a hopeful grin was also there, and I gave him a curious look as I headed towards the door to put on my boots, flashing him a smile of my own. "What's that look for, hunh?" I quizzed him.
He shrugged a little bit, then rumbled, "Dunno. After-fuck glow, I guess," he chuckled. "Say, Mitch-not to sound like a stalker, or anything, but I really enjoyed this. If I bribed you with something nice, what are my chances of getting you to come back and do it again?"
I perked a brow, but my smile didn't waver much. "Given what a primo fuck you are? I'd say better than average-but you don't gotta bribe me, pops. Just respect my schedule, and promise me you won't try to reach me any other way 'cept by my pager," I added firmly, tugging my wallet from my back pocket and fishing out a small card with my pager number on it. I handed it to him, and he looked at it and nodded, setting it on his coffee table for a moment.
"All right, that's fair-and I promise," he added, nodding in understanding. "But still, I wish you'd take it. I was going to give this to my grandson, but now that I've thought about how he's behaved the last year, he's actually gotten a little spoiled, so I'm not so sure he deserves this. He'll have a hissy fit, but then he'll get over it-and besides, you'll be earning it, as many times as I'm gonna try to get you to come over and fill me up, again." He offered the bag to me, grinning wide. "Go on. At least take a peek. If you don't want it, I'm sure that I can get plenty of takers for it on E-Bay."
That got me curious, so I walked over to him and took the bag, opening it up and reaching down to get the box-shaped thing at the bottom. I pulled it out, then gawked in awe. Sure enough, it was a PlasmaTIX console, brand new and untouched. I stared slowly up at him, my muzzle hanging open as I waggled the box at him with both hands. "Holy shit!" I gasped. "Gramps, are you crazy?! Do you know how much these things are worth?"
He nodded and rolled his eyes, looking tired. "Trust me, that's all I've heard for the past two months, is how much those damn things are worth and how hard they are to find. I hope I don't see another one ever, and if you want it, it's yours. You'll be doing me and the rest of my family a favor by not making us listen to the noise at my son's house tomorrow morning if my grandson were to get it, too."
I was in shock. I looked at the box, then back up at him, then back at the box, utterly stoned. "Damn, gramps-you really are my Santa, this year!" I chuckled. "Gee, uhh...thanks! I dunno what else to say, really."
He winked at me, then lowered his heavily-whiskered face down to mine and scratched under my chin lightly. "My real name is James-Jim, if you prefer," he answered. "And as for what to say-tell me that next time, you'll fuck my mouth till I get to swallow your load."
I grinned slowly but widely up at him, rubbing his beard warmly as I laughed. "My cock, your mouth pussy!" I said. "It's a deal, Jim. Thanks again, I really appreciate it!"
He waved goodbye to me as I headed for the door, my new game system tucked firmly under my arm. "You're quite welcome, but like I said-you're gonna earn it!" he chuckled. "I got me one or two buddies my age that might want you to demonstrate your talents, too, so get plenty of rest. You'll need your energy!"
"Bring 'em on!" I laughed. "I'll leave 'em dripping with jizz from both ends!"
So that's how I got one of the best console systems I've ever owned. You should've seen Hal's face as I told him the story-he's a ferret, and when his eyes get real big, he almost looks like one of those lame anime' characters from that cartoon crap that they import from across the pond. It's so damn cute, it makes me just wanna facehump him.
"You're shitting me, right?" he laughed. "C'mon, Mitch, you actually got it on with a mall Santa?"
I nodded. We were at my house, playing with my new system, and I was beating the shit out of him on the fighting game we were playing. "I sure as hell did, and don't laugh. He was a goddamn good lay," I winked at him sideways, then smacked his thigh lightly. "I oughta take you over to his place, sometime. See how cute those little cheeks of yours look when they're bulging with middle-aged bear dick."
"Bastard," he snorted, flipping me the bird as he watched me play. "As much as I'm jealous of your adventures, sometimes I still wonder how much of your stories are true, and how many of 'em are bullshit."
I shrugged. "You oughta know better than that, by now, Hal. But if you need proof, we should go to the mall, sometime. You wouldn't believe how horny old people are for hot young boy meat up inside of 'em," I smirked. "I'll get us both laid, if you're not too chickenshit to tag along. But hey, if you're too much of a sissy, or you're afraid that your dad may find out, we can skip it."
He gave me an indignant look, then belted my arm a good one, making me nearly drop my control pad. "Hey! You fucker, I'm not chickenshit!" he protested, his face grimacing at me. I noted that he didn't correct me on the "sissy" part, though, 'cause let's face it-Hal IS a sissy. He's a sweet, simpering little piece of ass waiting to be filled by any interested piece of burly man-cock that happens along, and he'd be the first to agree with me, on that one. That's why I like the little yuppie so much-he's totally cool with who and what he is, and he's got the money not to have to worry about what other people think.
"Fine, then. I accept your challenge," he snorted, turning his face and nose up at me a bit even as he opened one eye and gave me a wry grin, his trim arms folding across his chest. "As long as it won't get me grounded, I'm good for it. Just promise me that you won't spring just any guy on me without my approval first, okay? And no girls!" he added. "Just 'cause you're so horny that you'll fuck anything doesn't mean that I will!"
"Deal," I said, nodding at him firmly and shaking his handpaw. "You just wait, Hal. You won't believe how easy it'll be!"
And you better believe I was good on my word, too. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Hal's face when it all went down, it was priceless!
But that's another story, ain't it? Maybe I'll tell you about it, sometime.
IF you can do something for me or to me that'll make me smile, that is.