"Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" is the sequel to "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear," a novel originally published online in 2001 and currently available at: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/sloan-cosgrove/
Feel free to email me at thefratbear@yahoo.com if you'd like to connect or if you'd like me to send you a copy of the complete "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear" in handy PDF format. Please note that my old excite.com email address no longer works.
"Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" by fratbear (thefratbear@yahoo.com)
Chapter 1: Now Where Were We?
April 2019
"So where're you coming from?"
The Lyft app had said his name was Teddy and that he was driving a blue Honda Civic. What the app didn't say was that Teddy was a twenty-something stocky bear with bright eyes, a gregarious smile, and a scruffy neckbeard.
It was a breezy Sunday night, and Los Angeles traffic was light as we pulled out of the airport rideshare lot. Teddy started a Janelle Monáe playlist on his iPhone that started playing over the car's speakers, and then he started asking the questions.
"Just flew back from Vegas," I replied from the front passenger seat. I knew that rideshare passengers are supposed to sit in the back, but I wanted to spend the ride getting a good look at my driver and his stout body.
"Awesome," Teddy nodded. "Business or pleasure?"
"To celebrate my fortieth birthday."
Teddy looked over at me and grinned. "Aw, congrats, dude." He glanced over at me again. "Though I have to say, you sure don't look forty. I would've clocked you as about my age."
It was true. People regularly told me that I still looked 30 despite the dark gray hair streaking my beard and full head of otherwise auburn brown hair. Even with my barrel chest and big, Santa belly, the type of belly that men and women alike wanted to rub when they met me, at 290 pounds I was actually lighter than I was when I graduated from college.
"Thanks," I replied. "If only I still felt that young."
I started thinking about all the sexual adventures of my youth, the ones I started writing down 19 years ago after I'd been gang banged by a good number of my Delt fraternity brothers and my teammates on the Southern Texas University college football team in a cum-drenched celebration of my 21st birthday. Even back then, in April 2000, I knew my life was just beginning and that I had countless unknown adventures in my future. And yes, in the nearly 20 years that followed, I'd had many more wild adventures, but I never felt the urge to tell people about them.
"So what do you do for a living?" Teddy asked.
"I'm a publicist."
"Oh nice, for like movies and celebrities?"
"No, nothing that cool," I sighed. "More like products and brands."
"Ah, gotcha. But do you still get to go to parties and meet celebrities and stuff?"
"Yeah, sometimes. Especially when we're trying to hook up brands with celebrity endorsements."
"Cool, cool." He seemed to be straining to figure out how to continue the conversation. "So any brands I might know?"
I was surprised that he seemed so interested in my job. "You heard of Bare Power? It's a protein drink."
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that."
"They've been a client for a few years."
Teddy nodded. "Yeah, I've seen them sponsor some of the guys in the World's Strongest Man competition."
"Well, I'm the one who sets up those sponsorships."
"Sweet, so you get to meet all those strongman dudes."
"All the time," I answered, smiling to myself. If he only knew how many loads of strongman cum I'd swallowed or had blasted into my ass in the past few years.
But that pleasant thought also reminded me that I had a lot of work to catch up on. I opened my laptop bag and took out my iPhone.
"Sorry, Teddy, just gotta check my messages."
"Not a prob, dude." Jesus, he was making me feel old.
As we cruised onto the 405 Freeway and then the 10, I spent the next several minutes checking my emails and voicemail messages.
When I was done, I stared at the one voicemail that was still bothering me. I'd missed a call from my Dad on my birthday a couple of nights ago because at the time I was busy having my orifices filled by the cocks of a half-dozen men. When I tried calling him back the next day, he didn't answer. He'd left me a voicemail which I'd already listened to a few times, but I just felt like hearing his voice again.
"Hey Sloan," Dad's birthday voicemail started, "you're probably out having a birthday celebration dinner or something." Well, he was half-right. Despite being 67, and having suffered a heart attack five years earlier, he still had a booming, boisterous voice to match his big, powerful, silver bear body. He'd never gotten as big as me, but he'd had a massively thick bod ever since his days as a competitive weightlifter in college. "Just wanted to wish you a happy fortieth. I don't want you to feel old. There's a reason they call it middle age. Anyway, I love you, son. Talk to you soon."
"It's a message my Dad left me for my birthday," I explained to Teddy as I put my phone back in my laptop bag. We were exiting the 10 Freeway onto Crenshaw Boulevard.
"Sweet," Teddy replied, "My Dad also calls me on my birthday." He glanced down at my laptop bag. "Cool patch, dude."
I looked down and realized he was referring to the embroidered patch sewn onto the flap of my laptop bag, the one of a bear paw print in rainbow colors. The one that declared to everyone who recognized it that I was a gay-ass bear. "Thanks."
"I've thought about getting something like that tattooed on my arm." Teddy raised a thick forearm to show me. "But I'm afraid it might be a cliché."
I chuckled. "Yeah, best not to commit to something that permanent."
"So did you have a wild Vegas birthday?"
I sighed. "Bunch of friends wanted to welcome me to middle age." Teddy just nodded, and I could tell he wanted more. "But yeah, it was pretty debauched."
"Awesome, dude." I don't know if he was aware of it, but he was wagging his head back and forth rhythmically, like he was getting pumped up about something. He reached down and adjusted his crotch. That's when I realized that he had a hard-on.
Almost without thinking, I reached down and gave the bulge in his shorts a squeeze. Rubbing the bulge with my fingers, I could feel the shape of his stiff cock pressing again his zipper.
"Oh man," he moaned as I continued the massage. "You're gonna make me cum."
"Is that a promise?"
I unbuttoned his shorts and pulled down the zipper, releasing his throbbing erection. It wasn't huge, maybe only 5 1/2 inches at most, but it was perfectly shaped and uncut, and the tip of it was already glistening with precum. He'd probably already been erect for several minutes while I'd been checking my phone. His cock looked beautiful.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I undid my seatbelt, leaned over, and buried my face in Teddy's crotch, enveloping the full length of his cock with my mouth in one fluid motion. Teddy gasped as I just held him in my mouth.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned as I sucked on his dick. "Don't make me wreck my car."
I can't make any guarantees, I thought as I started bobbing my head up and down, my lips forming a seal around his hot pole as they slid over it repeatedly.
I could sense Teddy gritting his teeth as he placed one hand on my bobbing head and clenched my hair. I increased the pace and intensity of my mouth strokes on his cock, which grew even harder as he let out a series of what could only be described as choked grunts.
I thought he might start cumming, but no, those were just his normal sounds of pleasure. I continued to pump his dick in and out of my mouth, wanting to taste this sweet young bear's juice.
The car slowed to a stop, and I realized that Teddy had been waiting to stop at a red light before unleashing his load. I felt his body tighten as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands and let out an even louder series of grunts before finally squealing, "Fuuuuuck!"
I buried his rod in my mouth and held it there as it pulsated, spurting his piping hot cum down my throat in about a half-dozen shots. I gulped it all down greedily as his cock-throbs subsided.
Teddy let out a long growl as he expelled all the air from lungs, then he took a few deep breaths even as I kept all of his cock in my mouth, suckling it gently.
There was a honk behind us, another car alerting us that the light had turned green. Teddy let out another deep breath as he stepped on the gas, gradually accelerating.
"Hey man," he said, still breathing heavily as I continued massaging his cock with my mouth, "you don't have to do that. I already came."
I briefly slipped his cock out of my mouth to reply, "I know, I just want to suck on it until we get there."
And I did just that, fondling his spent cock with my mouth for the rest of the drive, coaxing out a few more drops of his cum before we pulled up to the front of my high-rise apartment building on Wilshire Boulevard in the heart of Koreatown.
"We're here," Teddy announced, and I sat up and gazed into his sparkling eyes. "Whew, thanks, that was amazing."
"My pleasure," I grinned. "Swallowing bear cum is one my favorite things in life."
"Can... can I take care of you?" He fumbled with his words as he gestured to my own crotch.
"Thanks for the offer, but I think my tank's still empty from the past couple of days."
He let out a chuckle. "Oh man, I'd love to hear all about that."
We got out of the car, and I admired Teddy's soft, hulking body as he retrieved my suitcase from the trunk and set it down next to me on the curb.
I leaned forward and kissed him right on the mouth, the taste of his cum still faint on my lips. "Tell you what. When you have some time, Google my name. Sloan Cosgrove. You'll find some stories I wrote a long time ago about what I did when I was a kid. I think you might appreciate them."
Teddy smile grew even bigger. "I'll definitely do that. Thanks!" As I started towards the front doors of my apartment building, he called out, "Oh, and happy birthday!"
On the elevator ride up to my seventeenth-floor apartment unit, and as I gave Teddy a 5-star rating and a generous tip on the app, I thought about what he'd said about wanting to hear all about my birthday adventures in Vegas. I'd just passed another milestone of life, the big 4-0. Maybe it WAS time to write down a few more confessions.
No sooner had I closed the door of my apartment behind me and dumped my suitcase and laptop bag on the floor, my phone rang. Despite the words "UNKNOWN NUMBER" lighting up the screen, I decided to answer.
"Hello, this is Sloan."
A deep, gruff voice with a Texas drawl came from the other end. "Sloan, it's Cliff."
It all came flooding back to me. My summer landscaping job after graduating from high school. My boss Cliff, the daddy bear who had been Dad's best friend in college and had regaled me with stories of Dad spurting his cum all over Cliff's naked body when they used to fool around in their dorm room. He told me those stories AFTER he and his hulking lawn care assistant Bryan had double-fucked me on an outdoor brick barbeque pit under the hot sun, both their hard cocks reaming my asshole, opening it wider than it ever had been in my young life. It made my ass sore just thinking about it.
"Yeah, hi, Cliff," I replied hesitantly. I hadn't spoken to him in five years, not since I'd gone home to Cicero, Texas, to see my Dad after his heart attack.
"Sloan," Cliff continued, sniffling, and at that moment, I could tell that this big man had been crying. And then I knew what this was all about. "It's your Dad. He..." His voice trailed off.
Earlier that day, Cliff had dropped by Dad's house, and when Dad didn't answer the door, he used the spare key and found Dad lying peacefully in his favorite recliner in the living room. It appeared that he'd had a second and final heart attack the day before. His cell phone still had an unread notification of my missed call back to him.
When Cliff finished telling me the details, I just nodded and replied, "I'm coming home."
And this was it. This was the moment I decided to continue telling my story. And the place to start was the night my Dad became part of my confessions.