"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/
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"Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear"
by fratbear (thefratbear@yahoo.com)
Chapter 30: Desserts
April 2004
"A quarter of a century," Reggie declared as he held up a glass of wine. "Wow, I barely remember my twenty-fifth. All I can say is, enjoy your youth, Sloan."
Indeed, it was my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating it with a dinner at a rustic steakhouse in downtown L.A. with the only real close friends I had in the city... my roommate Gabe, his girlfriend Tina, and my co-worker Reggie.
"Seconded," Gabe added, also raising his wine glass. "To be that young again!"
Gabe had turned thirty the previous month, but he and Tina had gone up to Santa Barbara for the birthday weekend. His comedy career was also on the rise, and because of his thriving relationship with Tina and my job at HartBPM, our lives rarely allowed us to see one another these days.
My first four months as a full-time employee at the firm had been both busy and surprisingly rewarding. As the office manager, I was in charge of the everyday operations of the office, which was a fancy way of saying that I ordered office supplies, troubleshooted the copier when it was acting up, called maintenance when it needed real repairs, and dealt with the cable company when our cable internet service went out. That part of the job was usually boring, except for the time when I sucked off the burly, fifty-something plumber who I called to fix the sink in the office restroom.
The more interesting part of my job was as the firm's head of research. It was really an extension of my task as a temp to clip articles and ads from magazines. That task had been training me to help build portfolios of sample images that the brand publicists who worked at HartBPM could use to pitch to clients. The difference now was that my responsibilities were expanded, and Gavin had given me access to all of the firm's resources to research potential clients as well as the competition.
At the end of my first month on the job in January, Gavin had remarked that he couldn't believe they had never had someone dedicated to that job. He added that I was now indispensable to the firm. Of course, he said that just after blasting a load of his cum deep in my ass, something that he'd continued to do pretty much every Friday after work.
The restaurant where we were having my birthday dinner was recommended by Gavin after Reggie had asked him for a good place to take me out for my birthday. The restaurant really was beautiful, decked out in gorgeous Art Nouveau design. Gavin said that the executive chef Joe was a young, rising star in the culinary world, having cut his teeth in the high-intensity restaurants of Chicago, where Gavin had learned about him, before coming out to Los Angeles to pursue his dream of opening his "punk rock" version of the Chicago-style steakhouse, all before even turning 30. I imagined that he would be some tattooed, junkie-looking hipster type.
Which is why I was surprised when the tall, chubby young man with a big, charming smile approached our table and introduced himself. He had a cute, friendly face, and his smooth, clean-shaven jaw made it look like he might've been unable to grow a beard.
"Hi, I'm Joe," he said with a toothy grin. He was dressed in blue jeans and a stylish blazer, but beneath that he was wearing a tight dark tee-shirt that hugged and showed off his doughy body, and it took all of us a moment to register that this was the chef. "Which one of you is Sloan?"
I sheepishly raised a hand, trying not to stare at the outline of his soft pecs and belly showing through the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt, so tight that you could even see his belly button. It was turning me on. "That would be me."
Chef Joe grinned and shook my hand. "Thanks so much for choosing my restaurant to celebrate your birthday. Just wanted to let you know that I have a special surprise at the end of your meal. A server will come get you when it's time."
"Lucky you," Tina said to me as Joe lumbered back towards the kitchen. "What do you think it is?"
"Probably a dessert or something," Gabe speculated. "Ooh, or maybe a shot of something expensive."
"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," Reggie said, smiling cryptically.
"Okay, now just press the truffle right into the middle of it with your finger."
Chef Joe handed me a dark chocolate truffle, which I took and pushed into the center of the white ceramic ramekin, which was half-filled dark brown batter.
"Great, now we'll just toss this into the pre-heated over for twelve minutes."
He picked up the ramekin and placed it in an oven at the back of the restaurant kitchen.
"And that's it?" I asked.
"It's just that easy," Joe replied, grinning.
By the time we had finished my birthday dinner, it was nearly ten o'clock, and the restaurant was pretty much ready to close. That's when a server came to the table to tell me that it was time for Chef Joe's birthday treat. He would need me in the kitchen for about twenty minutes, so Reggie ordered another bottle of wine for my friends to enjoy while they waited.
I went into the kitchen to find that all the cooks and kitchen workers were done for the night and had either left or were getting ready to leave. Chef Joe stood before a table with prep bowls of simple baking ingredients. He had removed his blazer, and the sight of his tee-shirt stretched over his husky torso immediately made my cock twitch in my pants.
"So your friend Reggie tells me that your favorite dessert is chocolate molten lava cake, but that you have zero cooking skills to speak of."
I actually laughed out loud when I realized that Reggie had set this up. A couple of months earlier, we'd actually gone out to dinner together after work, and we'd gotten into a conversation about our favorite foods. During the conversation, I'd also happened to mention that I was a terrible cook.
"I think I've been known to burn water," I joked as I approached the table.
"Well," Joe replied, "I thought I'd show you how you can make your own in under twenty minutes and with only a half-dozen simple ingredients."
Indeed, apparently all that was needed was baking chocolate, eggs, sugar, butter, flour, and vanilla, all blended together, plus one dark chocolate truffle to provide the molten core. In less than ten minutes, the ramekin of chocolate batter was baking in the oven.
"So now we just have to find something to do to fill the next twelve minutes," Joe said, scratching his arms, which drew attention to the multiple tattoos he had on his forearms, seemingly a requirement for young, hip chefs.
My mind filling with dirty thoughts as my eyes looked up and down the young chef's pudgy frame. "I can think of a few things that we could do."
"So can I," he replied, and I could tell that he checking out my body, as well, a hungry look in his eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to give me a treat for your birthday."
Joe stepped up to me and unzipped my pants as we gazed into each other's eyes. He reached in and pulled out my hardening cock, looking down to marvel at its size. He rubbed it until it was fully erect, and I wondered how many dicks he'd played with in this kitchen.
Finally, he got down on his knees and engulfed my cock with his hot, wet mouth. My whole body tingled as he gave me a loving blowjob, his lips gliding smoothly over my shaft.
I looked around anxiously, afraid that someone might walk into the kitchen and catch us, but then I realized that Chef Joe had probably done this plenty of times. He was confident that we wouldn't be interrupted. This realization made me relax, and I started to slowly hump my hips and moan happily. I looked down to watch my slick cock sliding in and out of his mouth as I gently fucked it.
"Yeah," I groaned, "suck me, chef. Suck that hard dick."
Joe moaned in response, sending vibrations through my cock and throughout my body. The thought entered my mind that not only did he run a steakhouse, but he was also a voracious meat-eater. As my groans grew louder, signaling that I was getting closer to my climax, Joe sucked on my meat with increased fervor, making loud slurping noises, eager to receive my load.
"Oh god, chef," I grunted as I felt the orgasmic pressure building in my balls. "I'm gonna blow. You're gonna make me cum."
I felt like I might pass out as waves of pleasure rolled through me, and my cock started pumping my hot jizz into Joe's hungry mouth. I felt the muscles of his throat contracting around my cock as he gulped down my sperm. I growled with delight as he swirled his tongue around my pulsating shaft, coaxing out a few final spurts.
Almost on cue, as soon as Joe slipped my spent cock out of his mouth, a kitchen timer started beeping. Wiping his mouth, he stood and looked over at the oven.
"Ah, just in time," he said, smiling. Grabbing a pot holder, he opened the oven and removed the ramekin, bringing it over to the prep table and setting it down so that I could see the perfectly baked, steaming chocolate cake that we'd made together. "Beautiful."
"Yeah," I replied, admiring the dessert, "but I think it's missing something."
Joe looked up at me quizzically. "What?"
I grinned back at him mischievously. "Some frosting."
With my own dick still hanging out of my pants, dripping with cum, I reached over, unzipped Chef Joe's jeans, and pulled out his already fully stiff cock, which was long and fat, nearly eight inches long and bright red. Seeing it made me wish I could stick it in my ass, but this was neither the place nor the time for that. Instead, I fell to my knees just as he had earlier and swallowed the length of his cock.
"Oh fuuuuuck," Joe groaned as I worked his thick shaft with my lips and tongue. He clutched my hair in his fingers as if he were holding on for dear life.
As much as I wanted to chug down his load, I had a different goal in mind, so after a couple of minutes of blowing him, I pulled my mouth off his cock and stood. Having been teased all night by the curves of his doughy torso under the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt, I had to see what was underneath.
I reached down and pulled up the front of his shirt to reveal his soft, pudgy belly and a perfect patch of chest hair right in between his fleshy pecs. I pulled the front of his shirt over his head so that he had the tee-shirt stretched around the back of his neck. It accentuated the meatiness of his hefty torso.
"I've been going to the gym," Joe murmured, sounding a little apologetic about his physique. His adorable face was filled with insecurity.
"You're perfect," I replied, grinning as I wrapped my fingers around his cock and started jerking him off as I leaned forward and ran my tongue over his beautiful chest and stomach. I flicked my tongue over his nipples as I pumped furiously on his shaft.
He probably wasn't used to having his chubby body worshipped like this, and I could tell that he was filled with joy by my attention. He grunted and groaned from the touch of my mouth and hands.
Joe's breathing began to quicken, and I could tell that I was bringing him closer to orgasm. I stopped licking his chest and stood, wrapping an arm around his naked back to support his large body as I continued masturbating him furiously with my other hand. Almost as if it were choreographed, we slowly shuffled towards the prep table where my freshly-baked chocolate molten lava cake was cooling in its ramekin.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Joe groaned as I excitedly pumped his cock with my fist.
"Yeah," I whispered into his ear as I felt his cock grow harder in my hand. "Gimme that frosting."
Joe's breathing became jagged, and his body stiffened as he suddenly let out a choked cry. By this point, we were standing right at the prep table, and I was jerking his cock right over my chocolate cake. Just as I aimed his cock right into the ramekin, a long, white jet of Joe's fresh cum streamed out of the tip and coated the dark brown surface of the cake.
"Oh fuck me, oh god," he whimpered as he shot out more blasts of spunk that splattered over the cake, creating an abstract pattern of ivory white against the dark chocolate. His body trembled as he came, and his back was slick with sweat as I continued holding him up with my arm.
Finally, Chef Joe finished spurting out the last of his jizz onto my cake, and we both took a step back from the table. White fluid was still dribbling from the head of his cock, and I knelt down so that I could wrap my lips around his cock head and suck out any last drops of his sweet cum.
When I was done, I stood and ran my hand over Joe's sweaty belly as we looked into each other eyes and grinned at one another. We then chuckled and looked over at the cake, perfectly glazed with his thick, sticky jizz.
"I can't believe I just fucking did that," Joe said, still in a daze.
"What do you have there?" Gabe asked as I returned to the table, holding the warm ramekin of chocolate cake in my hand.
"Chef Joe showed me how to make my own chocolate lava cake in under twenty minutes!" I replied proudly, beaming as I set the cake down on the table.
"Looks delicious," Tina said, sitting back in her chair. "I'd ask to try a bite, but I'm completely stuffed."
"Yeah, me, too," Gabe said. "You enjoy it."
I looked over at Reggie, who'd noticed the unusual frosting and gave me a knowing smirk. "How about you, Reggie? You want to try it?"
"Don't mind if I do," he replied, picking up a fork and digging into the cum-glazed cake. He took a bite and smiled. "Tasty." He nodded as he swallowed the morsel. "Good job."
I then dug into the cake and took a bite, savoring the taste combination of chocolate and Joe's semen. I grinned at Reggie.
"Chef Joe added some of his own special ingredients."