"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 32: Solo
June 2005
"Fuck man," my new landlord Hank growled as I sucked on his thick cock in the unfurnished living room of my new apartment.
Hank was a grizzled, fifty-something daddybear with a full head of grey hair, a bushy beard, and a big round belly that shook as I caressed his shaft with my lips. He leaned back against a wall for support, his head tilted back in ecstasy.
This had all started a few weeks earlier, when my roommate Gabe informed me that after more than two years of dating, he had finally proposed to his girlfriend Tina, and she'd said yes. They were already making plans for a wedding in a year.
"So here's the deal," Gabe had explained, "Tina would like to move in with me here since it's closer to both of our jobs than her apartment."
I knew what that meant. After almost exactly four years of rooming with Gabe in the apartment in Hollywood, I would finally have to find my own place. The thing is, I was actually in a good position to move. I'd been at HartBPM for a year-and-a-half and was comfortable financially. I also knew the city like the back of my hand, so I had a list of neighborhoods where I could potentially live.
Of course, there was West Hollywood, the center of gay life in Los Angeles. However, I wasn't into the club scene, and the neighborhood was really far away from the freeways, making the commute to work an absolute nightmare.
I considered places like Culver City and even Santa Monica, where I would be close to Dylan the adorable photographer and would be able to hook up with him more often, but those were even farther away from my job.
Reggie had suggested getting an apartment in downtown L.A. like him, but even though there were areas of downtown going through a major revitalization, there just didn't seem to be much to do there.
Finally, I settled on the hipster enclave of Silver Lake, just a couple of miles northwest of downtown. My commute to work would only be a few minutes, and the neighborhood was populated with cool restaurants, shops, and music venues... all within walking distance.
After a couple of weeks of searching through apartment listings, I finally found a relatively spacious one-bedroom apartment near the bustling intersection of Santa Monica Boulevard and Sunset Boulevard, also known as Sunset Junction. I made an appointment to check it out early on a Saturday morning.
The moment I saw Hank the landlord waiting for me at the base of the steps leading up to the apartment, I had a good feeling about the neighborhood. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops, looking kind of like Santa on a beach vacation. He grinned when he saw me coming up the sidewalk, and I got the sense that this was a meeting of two generations of gay bears. This was further confirmed as Hank rattled off some gay historical trivia as we climbed the steps to the apartment.
"You heard of the Black Cat Tavern?" he asked. "It's just a couple of blocks away on Sunset."
"I haven't," I replied.
"There were huge demonstrations there against homophobic police brutality back in 1967. It was basically the West Coast version of the Stonewall Riots, but two years before Stonewall."
"Wow, that's cool."
"It's still a gay bar, though it's mostly Latino guys," Hank continued. "And of course there's the Eagle Bar a few blocks away on Santa Monica. You ever been there?"
I grinned. "No, but I've heard of it." The Eagle was a leather and denim bar where a lot of bears and daddies congregated. I'd never really been into leather, but probably every gay man in L.A. knew about the Eagle.
Hank chuckled as he unlocked the apartment door, and we went in for a quick five-minute tour. The apartment wasn't anything special, but it had a nice-sized bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen. It was everything I needed, plus a small deck with a beautiful view of the Hollywood Hills in the distance.
Gazing out the patio door at the view, I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, it's perfect."
I looked over at Hank, who had a big grin on his bearded face. "Excellent, when do you want to move in?"
"I can start hauling my stuff over today, if that's okay with you."
Hank's grin grew even bigger. "Wow, okay. Well, welcome to the neighborhood."
"Maybe you can give me a first taste of the neighborhood." I smirked as I rubbed my hand across the front of his cargo shorts.
Within minutes, Hank was up against the wall of the living room with his cargo shorts down around his ankles, plunging his thick, erect rod into my mouth as I sucked hungrily on it. He was getting close to blowing his load, grunting with each thrust.
"I'm gonna shoot," he groaned as he clutched my hair with his stout fingers. "I'm cumming."
His body lurched as his cock pulsed and shot thick jets of his sperm onto my waiting tongue. He whimpered and whined as he emptied his balls down my throat. I eagerly swallowed his hot jizz, moaning as I felt it warming my belly.
"Hoo boy," Hank sighed as he came down from his orgasm. "Was not expecting THAT to happen when I got up this morning."
I finally sat back and wiped my mouth, looking up at the satisfied expression on Hank's face. "Thanks for the breakfast."
"Last call," John the bartender called out at about a quarter to two in the morning. It was a late Friday night-- well, technically very early Saturday morning-- and I was facing the reality of the California law that prohibited the sale of alcohol after 2:00 am. If New York is the city that never sleeps, Los Angeles is the city that stops partying at 2:00.
After two weeks, I'd finally finished moving into my new Silver Lake apartment while also helping Tina move into the old apartment in Hollywood with Gabe. We'd all gone out to dinner to celebrate, but now I was finally on my own in a place of my own.
At the same time, my boss Gavin was out of town on business, so we didn't have our usual end of the week fuck session in his office after work hours. Faced with a Friday night with absolutely no obligations, I decided to explore the neighborhood and look for bars and restaurants that could become my new regular haunts.
That's how I ended up at The 3700, a pub on Sunset Boulevard just a few blocks from my apartment. It was well past midnight, and the moment I stepped inside and heard Wilco, Ryan Adams, Bright Eyes, and Eels playing on the jukebox, I knew that this dark, wood-paneled hipster bar would probably become my neighborhood dive. Even though The 3700 was decidedly not a gay bar, I immediately felt comfortable there.
Admittedly, a lot of that was due to the bartender. The moment I sat down on the barstool, this thick, square-framed, somewhat nerdy hipster bear with a plaid short-sleeved shirt that showed off the tattoos on his forearms, an immaculately combed mop of brown hair, a reddish-brown lumberjack beard, and glasses with thick, black frames stepped up to me from behind the bar, wiping a pint glass with a bar rag like some old-timey barkeep.
"So, what'll it be?"
"Pint of Guinness, please," I replied.
He nodded and went off to pour one from the tap. I watched him as he worked, admiring his stout body as he lumbered around behind the bar. As he set the pint glass of Guinness down before me, he smiled and watched me take a sip.
"First time here?"
I nodded. "Just moved into the neighborhood and decided to check out the local watering holes."
"Well, you found one," he replied.
Since the bar wasn't busy, we ended up chatting for the next hour. I learned that his name was John, he was 30, and he'd moved to L.A. a couple of years earlier from Portland, Oregon, where he'd also been a hipster bartender. He'd come to L.A. to do some theater work while also trying to get TV acting gigs. He'd only succeeded in getting extras work, though, and he was considering moving back to Portland.
I also told him my story, or at least the broad strokes of it. We mostly talked about my few years living in Hollywood, being roommates with an improv comedian, and my hobby of going to live concerts, which led to a long conversation about our favorite current bands. I rattled off a list of my favorite alternative rock and indie pop acts, while John went on for several minutes on his love of alt-country.
By 1:45, there were only two other patrons left in the bar, middle-aged men whom John seemed to be very familiar with. They'd apparently been at the bar all night and were both on the cusp of unconsciousness. But the moment John called out, "Last call," both men suddenly stirred and immediately shuffled out of the bar, leaving just me and John in the bar with "All The Wine" by The National playing on the jukebox.
"Wow," I commented, marveling at the sudden emptying of the bar. "Like cockroaches scurrying when the light comes on."
John chuckled. "They're always here at closing time."
I downed the remaining beer in my glass. "You probably want to close up shop and get home," I said as I got up from my barstool, realizing that I hadn't moved from it in over an hour.
John came out from around the bar and followed me to the door. "Glad to meet you, Sloan," he said as I reached the door. "Hope you'll be back."
"Oh, I definitely will."
I turned to say goodbye and was startled to find John right in front of me, our faces barely a foot apart. It was a supremely awkward and intimate moment as we just looked into each other's faces. John's eyes were dark, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking.
And then he leaned into me and planted his lips on mine. Before I could ever think about what was happening, we had our thick, strong arms wrapped around each other's hefty bodies, hugging as we kissed passionately, our open mouths sucking hungrily as our rough beards rubbed together. Our tongues seemed to dance with one another as we both grunted while we made out.
Our kissing was so heated that when we finally pulled apart after about a solid minute, we were both panting as if we were already completely spent. I think a lot of it was just from the sheer surprise of what had just happened.
"Okay, wow," John uttered, shaking his head. His glasses were completely steamed up.
"I know," I replied, grinning. "You want to continue?"
John reached over and locked the front door of the bar. "That answer your question?"
We practically lunged at one another and resumed our fervent kissing as we pawed at our clothes with our meaty hands, unbuttoning and unzipping with our fat fingers as we stripped off each other's clothing, eager to see the other's bare flesh.
John's body did not disappoint as I slid his shirt down his big, broad shoulders and thick, fat, tattooed biceps, exposing his furry, brawny chest and equally furry, hefty belly, the kind of belly that looked like it might have been a six-pack at one time but had fattened up into a keg.
When I pushed his denim jeans and flannel boxer shorts down his massive, hairy thighs, I found his stiff, dark red penis to be just as stout and cute as the rest of his body. He was like a teddy bear come to life.
John seemed to take just as much pleasure in undressing me, eyeing each husky part of my body lustfully as he removed each article of my clothing until I stood before him totally naked, my massive erection pointing right at him.
"Jesus," he murmured as he wrapped his fingers around my shaft and massaged it. "Please stick this in me."
"It'd be my pleasure," I responded with a friendly smile as I ran my hand over his perfect, furry chest.
I lubed up my cock as we made our way over to the bar's obligatory pool table. The felt top was worn and faded, and I wondered if it was due to prior sexual activity on its surface.
John turned and bent over the pool table, presenting me with the beautiful sight of his wide back and smooth, round ass. I moved in behind him.
"You ready?" I asked as I pressed the tip of my cock against his asshole.
John nodded. "I want you inside me."
Just what I wanted to hear. John let out a groan as I pushed my cock into him, sliding into him slowly and deliberately, savoring the feeling of my cock being enveloped by the moist warmth of his ass. When I was all the way in, I stopped to just enjoy the feeling. I leaned forward and gently kissed John's broad, strong back.
"Oh god," he moaned. "Fuck me."
With my lips still on his back, I began to thrust my hips, plunging my cock in and out of John's warm, inviting ass. He grunted softly as I fucked him lovingly, my hands sliding around to his front. I ran my fingers across the soft fur coating his chest and stomach, and I squeezed his meaty pecs.
"Oh fuck, that feels so good," John moaned as our bodies moved together, connected by my eight-and-a-half inch cock penetrating his stocky body over and over again.
Sensing that both of us were in the mood to change things up, I pulled my cock out of him, turned him around, and kissed him again. I felt his own erection, dripping and rock hard, bumping against mine as we made out.
I then pushed him back onto the pool table. He immediately knew what I was thinking, and he laid back on the felt surface and raised his legs so that I could move in and put his legs up on my shoulders.
I pushed my cock back into his ass and started fucking him with renewed vigor. I looked down at John's fat, stocky body shaking and heaving on the pool table as I pounded my shaft into him. The look on his bearded, bespectacled face was one of pure bliss, a big, happy grin on his face.
John's stout, red cock bounced as I fucked him, clear, sticky precum dripping across it. I pumped it with my fist, and his grin turned into a big O as he moaned loudly.
I felt the pressure building in my balls, and I pulled his legs off my shoulders and then grabbed his wrists and pulled him up so that he was sitting up on the edge of the pool table as I continued to hump his ass. John wrapped his arms around me and once again kissed me passionately.
And so we were kissing and moaning in unison when the familiar waves of pleasure rolled through my body, and my cock began to throb, pumping my pent-up load of cum deep into John's guts. Even with our mouths pressed together, John chuckled, and I knew he was enjoying the feeling of my seed filling up his insides.
We continued kissing even after I'd shot my last jet of sperm into him and stopped thrusting. Our bodies were coated in sweat, glistening under the light hanging over the pool table.
Finally, I stood and pulled my cock out of John's ass, and I was mesmerized by the sight of white fluid immediately dripping out of his asshole onto the floor of the bar.
But I was also drawn to the sight of John's cock, still stiff and angry. As he sat there on the edge of the pool table, an adorably dumb, dazed look on his face, I dove face first into his crotch and engulfed his erection with my hot mouth. John let out an astonished cry as I sucked on his cock with unbridled fervor.
He was primed to explode, and it wasn't long before John arched his hefty body back and let out an animalistic wail, his thick belly heaving as his hot cum exploded from his cock into my waiting mouth. I gulped down his delicious load as his body writhed with ecstatic joy.
Once I'd sucked out all of his sperm, I released his penis from my mouth and stood so that I could make out with him one more time, knowing that he could taste his own sperm on my mouth. As we hugged each other's naked, sweaty bodies, we continued making out until it really was closing time.