Date: Wed, 6 Feb 2002 15:08:26 -0800 (PST)
From: Patrick Young <claycub51@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Clay" Chapter 2

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are
offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is
not allowed, cease reading now and depart. Though not observed in this
story, care enough about yourself and humankind always to practice safe
sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

Patrick Young
ClayCub51@Yahoo.com


CLAY -- Chapter Two "Midnight Mauling"

Clay hung up the phone. Claire had returned safely to the luxury of her
suite in the Dakota. Her first New York meeting had gone well, she had
said. He rolled over clutching the big pillow between his legs, humping
once, and allowed the arms of Morpheus to claim him.

Moments, perhaps hours, passed, when suddenly Clay bolted into
consciousness.  "UNGH!" Clay rolled to his left and groaned when his balls
didn't roll with him.

"What the--" he spit out, his right ball taken in a hot, twisting, chewing,
demanding, relentless mauling, paralyzing him in nuance and a jolt of
fear. He reached toward the wet vise capturing him, and felt -- the soft
fuzz of a short haircut in the way. "--FUCK?"  he shrieked as teeth -- REAL
teeth -- kept him in position, and not a comfortable one. A thick finger
prodded his asshole, intense, persistent. Clay locked every muscle of his
body in defiance.

"Lemme in, goddammit," a strange bass voice growled between his legs, the
tongue hot, slick, unrelenting. The finger twisted upward with a "Lemme in,
lover. You know how good your Daddy loves you, Warren. Lemme in, ya hot
fuck!" Hot lips molested the base of Clay's cock to sudden hardness,
fingers clawing at his pucker urgently. "Daddy's home, Warren. I gotta have
you, man, let your Daddy IN!"

"NO!" Clay wailed as two fingers breached his ass. Two very large, very
wet, very determined fingers, inside his clenching chute. They twisted
undaunted in their intention to open, woo, demand entrance. "NO!" A third
finger joined the assault, prostate found by the longest digit, which cued
an electric keening from the Clay's throat, the ecstasy unmistakable, if
unsolicited.

"C'mon, Warren, lemme in. Daddy's home, ya little fuck, whatsa matter, you
don't know your Daddyman anymore?"

The bedside lamp clicked on. Two men gawked at each other, one enraged, one
incredulous. "Where's Warren?" the big bear roared.

"WHO's Warren, you sick fuck?" the golden cub roared back defensively at
the bearded face still slobbering at the base of the formidable appendage
rising between Clay's legs.

"Well, the last time I used this key, I ate him in this room, in this bed,
and you feel just like him, cub. What'd you do to him, mothafucka?" snarled
the grizzly, suddenly menacing.

Clay slid his hand under the mattress to retrieve the .38 Special his
father had willed him.  He remembered Charlie's words: "Son, I know you
don't believe in guns, but by God I've taught you how to use and respect
'em and when I'm gone, this one goes to you. One day you'll have need of
it." Today was that day. Clay laid the barrel alongside his cock, flipped
off the safety, cocked the hammer. Cold steel is instantaneously
sobering. All movement froze. "If I kill you right now I'd never spend a
minute in jail, you crazy piece of shit. This is MY home, MY bed, and I
DON'T know you or why you've got your mouth on my balls. So you want me to
fire this thing, or you want to talk to me?"

The man was a massive silver-brown bear, yet he looked like a choirboy with
the barrel of Charlie's .38 up his nostril. He blinked twice and his
icy-gray eyes focused clearly.  Brilliant white teeth flashed in a wry
smirk within the full curly beard, eyebrows raised in humility. "I think I
fucked this one up, cubby. Warren sure wouldn't shove a gun up his Daddy's
nose. You sure ain't who I thought was in this bed." A pause, ragged
panting, nostrils flaring.

"Keep going," Clay barked, chest heaving, not a muscle unclenched.

The big man chuckled, "But you'll do nicely. And you'll fire, all right!"
And he swallowed Clay's hard cock down to his pubes, the crown clutched
inside a well- practiced throat, swallowing hungrily. Clay could only throb
and groan as his dickhead experienced the most incredible sensation of his
life, down the gullet of this strange, big, hairy mass of manmuscle.  The
bear gurgled around the thick pole, fingers thrusting again against a
responding prostate, prompting Clay to relinquish the gun from the man's
face, releasing the cocked hammer and resetting the safety. He left the
pistol resting on his thigh, as the satyr devoured his manhood to the root
and beyond. An intense rhythmic growl plead the bear's case to ransom his
life with the blowjob of a lifetime. He was winning his salvation.

Long, thorough slurps and steady finger thrusts deep inside took Clay to
bliss in nothing flat. He put the gun on the bedside table and wound a hand
into the gnarled beard of his assaulter, the other caressing the
closely-buzzed head.  "Yeah, that's it, cubbo, be sweet to Daddy. I just
wanna love ya," rumbled the husky bass.

The fingers stretching his hole stabbed again, the middle one sweetly
bludgeoning Clay's swelling internal chestnut. `Claire sure don't know how
to do THAT!' flashed across his mind, then dissolved into the suctioning
insistence milking his slit. "OHHH!" blurted past his lips as his internal
trigger went off, a flood of cum prompted from inside the depths of his
violated pucker, into the mouth of the great bear consuming his body.

Urgent suckling claimed Clay's eruption. Two sudden handfuls of beard kept
the mouth devouring his spasming tube of hard flesh on target. "OHHH,
Daddy!" Clay submitted to the draining of his nectar, his entire body
quivering, glazed in a sweaty sheen. "OHHH, do it!" He blasted again into
the unrelenting throat milking his seed from the balls now pulled up so
tightly. "OHHH, take me!" Clay rode the rocket blazing behind his eyelids,
"OHHH, Daddy!" again, and "OHHH, fuck!" again, and "OHHH, God!" again, then
collapsed into oblivion.

A low growl vibrated his soul from between his twitching thighs. "Hmmm,
SWEET, cubby!" the voice rumbled. Tongue rasped against meatus, relentless,
it's too sensitive, NO PLEASE STOP, "OHHH, DADDY!" eliciting a final
clench, one more shot of spunk. The big man growled into Clay's crotch, "A
man's gotta get his feeding, right?  Wherever we find you. Yummmmm--" A
strong, deliberate slurp pulled a final surge from the whimpering golden
stud buried in the bearded face. The musclebear eased his fingers from the
clutching sphincter and licked each one clean, smacking obscenely.  "Yeah,
better'n my sweet little Warren, maybe. I'll have to get you both side by
side to be sure, though. Whatcha say, cub? Think Daddy can getcha back up
for that?" He licked the turgid flesh from base to tip again, and sprang
upwards, landing on top of his conquest with a resounding "OOMPH!" from
them both, driving his bearded face into Clay's slack mouth, sucking,
probing, drinking noisily.  A thick cowled bludgeon slammed between their
heaving hairy abs, and erupted, mightily, hotly, over and over and
over. The grunts and thrusts gradually slowed, the room fading into
stillness.

Slowly Clay's hands traveled upwards over the massive back, combing through
dark brown silk swirling in profusion. He dove back against the thick
beard, offering his thick tongue, grinding his softening cock into the
sticky pool between their hirsute fronts. "Oh, Daddy Bear--" he sighed,
utterly spent. Strong arms gathered him closer. With a surge of moxie, Clay
rolled them over together, straddling the silver bear's loins and massaged
the daddyspunk into the big hairy muscles swelling beneath his hands.

Suddenly it occurred to Clay: `I'm -- bigger'n him!'

The masterly flesh he was kneading came into clear focus. `God, he's
magnificent, and gorgeous! So powerful, awesome! But he's not that -- big,'
was the assessment. Reality gradually dominated perception, and the great
musclebear morphed into the compact, taut proportions of the small, perfect
gymnast body of his master nonetheless. A spark of realization flashed in
the icy blue eyes staring up at Clay. "Whassa matter, cubby? You gotta
problem with your Daddy?"

"No, sir," he breathed, lowering his green eyes in submission, then
riveting them again into the depths of clear blue steel, centered, claimed,
acknowledged, pleasured. He dove back into the bearded face, searching with
his tongue for the hot mouth, finding it, filling it. A revelation of whose
power drove the moment overwhelmed Clay. He looked up, tears of bliss
shimmering, then buried his face in the thick silver sworls blanketing the
broad chest of his maestro with a whimpered surrender.

"Show me, Daddy?" he pleaded.

A strong hand caressed the back of Clay's head, stroking the blond curls.
The other hand found his asscheek, and kneaded. "Yeah, cubby, c'mere. Your
Daddy Bear loves you, loves loving you up. C'mon, baby, lemme know you love
your Daddyman."


TO BE CONTINUED--

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