THE LAKE ON THE MOUNTAIN'S PEAK...just saying!
***ONCE UPON A TIME, MY DEAR WOODLAND CREATURES...as the story goes: Gather round and come hither to hear how an older grizzly and a ginger cub commune at the 'lake on the mountain's peak'.....!
There's this lake...the fishing kind...the kind where you dear woodland creatures find a cool drink...where the ordinary humans bring their picnic baskets...and their offspring for those human things that they do! But it's the teal blue of the water that snuggles the other shade of grey blue of the sky that is interrupted by the different shades of greenery that the trees provide intermittently to break the blues apart here and there!
It's the quietness....almost a silence, but not quite! I'm not talking about the white noise that has no place in this real world...this shit doesn't exist! It's the kind of quietness where a man can stop....and listen for the rustle of leaves in a passing breeze...and the stirring of something off in the brush...or maybe on a special day the sounds of bears at play.....and so our tale begins:
There was a great and powerful bottom bear in the Appalachian mountains where men were good looking and hung...and so were the women!! Now this hillbilly furry teddy bear named 'OL' DAVE' had rare and wondrous skills: such as a throat like an Electrolux and a man's ass like a dairy farmer's milking machine; with firm furry big nipped pecs and a grand and wide butt and fuzzy sperm factories always cocked and loaded and two large manly maulers to grope and pinch the various fleshy parts of the woodland creatures that he encounters while romping and cruising the vast state park systems near his den!!!
HOOOOWL!!!!
Once OL' DAVE went a prowling for some fleshy 'down low' picnic baskets that might be hanging in one of his favorite parts of his stomping ground! Now as in many of these tales of yore, there is these surreal, magical kind of places where lakes reside atop of a mountain that's green and lush with foliage and evergreens and has crystal blue lake water caressing the shores where a swim or a fishing pole would be right at home! The journey to the top of this mountain is ruff and rugged just like the bears who cum there to play!
Big hulking, burly breaded beasts with thick trunks and beefy legs and feet sized to support the brawny muscles that strained over the white tees that even the heavy cotton can't forbid the wiry course chest hairs from poking through! Bearded and bald to varying degrees and 'Peterbilt' caps to ward off the burn from the sun...and the worn leather boots that saw too many miles on the long distance hauls or from kicking the damn John Deere to get one more row plowed before sundown!
All of that is laid behind these stallards of the salt of the earth from another day...another reality, because this is what all the other hell on earth was to evolve into a minute of respite...one of those rare and special sunbright, fresh breezy days of blue white clouded skies and the faint out of sight rustling in the brush that provides an escape for a bear to touch his essence...his raw natural being...what makes life worth living...his masculinity!
So OL' DAVE knows where the huntin' is good and the meat is fresh and the sap is just starting to rise within the mighty limb that the bears all have that needs his rap attention...and this gruff grizzly is ready to serve! There...not ten feet from the quiet shoreline, up against a bumper and a tailgate is a cub, with that orangie kind of red hair that's never tamed by gel or brush, waiting with his line baited and his pole extended! The ragged 501s are haphazardly thrown on the back of the bed of the Ford pickem up...right up next to the toolbox...again, for another day and another time!
Ol' DAVE can tell that this ginger bearded bear has been in need for his talents for some time as evidenced by the glisten of bear giz seeping out the slit of a good eight and half inch challenge with it's hood retracted and it's stank catching a ride on the breeze! The boy bear's eyes are closed, but he ain't no fool; this cub bear knows he's being stalked and he's damn glad!
DAMN!! the signs that read: 'DON'T FEED THE BEARS'...what the good is a fuckin' sign for anyway! Already this cub knows enough about living to have learned that if there's a civil law or a posted sign saying 'don't do something...' then it's pretty damn sure a firm bet that it's worth doing...just saying!
Fuck the bitch at home...won't play when he needs it...and he needs is often...fuck the bitch! Because this independent spirit will problem solve this dilemma just like when he followed his own daddy up the mountain road to this particular spot at the mountain lakes edge...not that many years ago. He'd always wondered why the old man disappeared for a hour or so and why he came back with a secret smile and a wink that left him at ease and relaxed and playful!
Those were days of following and keeping a distance at this very same spot where a pick up truck could back into a ravine of tall rhododendrom and dense firs that grow close to the waters edge yet private enough for a man to heft his pants up quickly if need be! He'd spy upon his very own sperm donor and watched as his big brawny father, who's frame was built from hard days at the saw mill and none of that fuckin' pretty boy gym membership... not for his ol' man...none of that sissy shit...but there his daddy was sitting on the bench seat of the family's farm truck with no doors and his bibs laying across his boots and his breeder buried down some pot bellied sucker's gullet...
HELL!!! that's old man Simpleton's boy who works at the mill with my old man!!!
There was spit and mouth lube gumming up the stubble of the boy's chin beard as he splayed his throat repeatedly down my dad's long poker...DAMN!! And the ginger bearded bear just smiled as he remembered the ol' man's guttural growls when he unloaded enough baby makers down Simpleton Junior's guzzler to make some of it spurt and gush from this nose and him to gasp as daddy's big calloused hands held the back of his crew cut until he was completely spent and satisfied!
From this hiding spot behind the brush, his wide eyed cumming to age moment woke him up to not only realizing what a man sometimes has to do to get what he needs done but also how much he enjoyed watching and being taught by the best teacher and coach a cub ever had...his old man...his dad...and then becoming aware of just how much he enjoyed the lesson by noticing that his own pussy poker was hard and streaming his own cub seed down the leg of his Levis...SHIT!!!!
So there he was today, the ginger man cub, with his pole swinging in the sunlight and he's resting on his elbows with his thick thighed...those damn football practices during high school had paid off after all...legs spread and awaitin' for the bear hunter cumming down the dusty graveled country road to the edge of the lake shore where the boy-man was sitting and allowing his apparent need to be displayed and worshiped!
This wasn't his first time at the rodeo...no fucking way! Been here...been done...many times! That prick teasing Sue Foster was nothing more than the 'beard' he needed on Saturday nights to make his bros not doubt his 'straightness' and for appearances at Sunday morning services to keep the gossips at bay...never cost him more that the price of a couple of movie tickets and getting his fingers sticky in her ugly cunt. She'd bought the: 'I respect you too much to go all the way until we're hitched' bull shit...no harm...no foul!
OL' DAVE ambled on up and asked 'how the day was going?' as ginger cub just grinned and flicked the Camel into the lake...and looked down at his proud eight and a half and then looked straight back directly into this bear hunter's gaze with the message that left no doubt that he approved of the unmentioned offer for service and a promise to pay with his liquid reward!
Ol' DAVE unzipped his coveralls just enough to free his own need and dropped to his knees on the gravel, never no mind since the only sensation worth registering was the one sprouting from the cub's crotch; and with a wide open muzzle, he descended down the entire length of that throat stretcher and relished the way it pushed aside the Adam's Apple until it bottomed out somewhere way pass the gag reflex...way pass!
AAAAAAHHH!!! Yeah...that's good...back up slowly, just to let him know he'd made a good decision to cum out today and feed the bears! This also allowed the saliva and spit to gather up and lubricate the instrument of his desire so that he could take a more aggressive attitude in meeting both their needs! Tongue at ready!! Mouth juices pumping!! With lips puckered for maximum suction to envelope the flare of the glans and push the remaining flap of foreskin on down and out of the way so that no point of sensitive cock could not be tantalized and tortured with pleasure beyond what any cunt would ever provide this young stud...just saying!
This time the descent was in increments where the teeth nipped at the cock flesh just to apply enough pressure to let ginger cub know just how far OL' DAVE's willing and able to take his silo sized shaft until he nestled his beard against the pubes and caught the whiff of bear piss and dried cum where it'd leaked as the young cub had driven up the mountain to this spot...now it served to heighten an even greater sexual atmosphere of delight...DAVE's gotta get his too, don't he!?!?!
The increasing all encompassing suction begins...and the pistoning of the head varies...and SHEP's paws grasps the cub's meaty ass cheeks and works them like his grandma use to work biscuit dough for Sunday morning sausage gravy! When enough passion had cum to the surface, he'd slip a middle finger down into the sweaty cleft towards that furry fuck hole that the boy sat upon and just tease and test the waters for future reference when DAVE might choose to jackhammer a tight cub's pucker...willing or not!
But this ginger cub made no complaint at the intrusion...he was lost in the high of the real kind of sexual hillbilly heroin called man sex...he was where his daddy had been those days he'd hid and spied upon him with his pecker choking a throat...a manly kind of natural high...and no hang over...just a peace so deep that it would entice the soul to snore.
Then way too soon, it starts...the slow seepage of cub spunk in a steady stream down this grizzly's windpipe. The snorts and guttural gags begin...the good kind that let a bear know he's doing it right...and the backwash provides a taste of things to cum! Just as his daddy had done before him, he grabs DAVE's bald head in a death grip that knocked the man's Peterbilt to the ground somewhere behind where they shake and thrust like those Pentecostals during prayer meetings!
OL' DAVE had better have gotten that last good deep breath before this cum gusher blew!!! AAAAAAAHHH!!!! but too late now, and ginger cub blasts a load that a good sized coffee mug at the local diner would have had a hard time containing...an endless fountain of a young bear in his prime type of cum...salty and sweet and creamy and hot and soothing to a raped, ravaged throat that didn't give a damn...the reward is all that mattered and here it is!
If there'd been room around the corner's of his mouth some of the eruption would have spewed out...but no way...no how...too precious...too damn good!!
Soon OL' DAVE pulled off the ginger cub's cock which was now at half mast...licking the head and nuzzling the drooping fuzzy balls...and the ginger cub jerks and moans his satisfaction and gratitude...without a 'thank you' necessary...from either bear!
Both acknowledged each other with those kind of sheepish shit eating grins that men extend to each other out of respect for a journey shared and a job well done! There's no exchanging phone numbers or planning a firm date and time to meet again.......HELL!! The perchance and unknown was part of what fueled the chase and encounter! The purpose of this interaction wasn't to get a date for the prom...shit no!!! The purpose was for the roles of pursuer and pursued...to honor the age old tradition of allowing the 'hounds to run'!!! Something that most genders of the male variety had lost touch with...their animalistic side and instinct...the function of man as hunter and warrior!
So I suppose that I should get back down the mountain to the saw mill until the next time another horny, needy overworked and sexually frustrated bear wanders up to the lake on the mountain's peak!!!!...just saying!!!!
SHEP
***FELLAS: JUST ANOTHER ATTEMPT TO PROVIDE YOU A CERTAIN TRIP BACK WHEN MALE SEX WAS DIFFERENT...NOT NECESSARILY GAY...AND SUCH AS WHAT THESE TWO SHARED IN THIS STORY, 'QUEER'! HOPEFULLY, THIS TALE CAUGHT WHAT WE GUYS USE TO CALL MALE BONDING...A 'GOOD BUDDY'...AND HALF ASSED JOKED ABOUT KNOWING AN 'ASS-HOLE BUDDY'...ALL THE SAME SHIT! ALL PART OF A RAW PASSION THAT ONE DOESN'T HEAR OF TOO MUCH ANY MORE...just saying!
...AND AS ALWAYS MEN; DON'T FORGET TO PAY THE PIPER AND GIVE A DONATION TO 'NIFTY' IF YOU'RE OF THE MIND TO DO SO...OUT OF RESPECTING A PLACE WHERE WE CAN STILL CUM AND BE THE KIND OF MEN THAT WE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE!