Spring
It was my own private little spot, a large, pooled area of a small river where I could relax. A tall bluff blocked the sun, creating a nice shaded area that rarely received direct sunlight. Most people would prefer to feel the warm sunshine on their skin, or fur rather, as they swam, but I liked the cool, shady area. Of course, I couldn’t really be called a “people” anymore, could I? Even in the depths of summer, the groundwater-fed springs helped keep the water nice and brisk. If I was lucky, I could even catch an inattentive bird for a meal, but never fish; I was never good at catching fish. I didn’t get many concessions from Bubba, but he was willing to give me this spot; it was all mine.
It had been about five years since someone sent me some sort of pamphlet in the mail on New Year’s Eve. Somehow, the thing turned me into a large polar bear man with a special affinity for rim jobs. Since then, I had gotten to know Bubba, kind of the de facto leader of the place and the other bears who had walked through that door over the years. Most of the other bears would go off in groups of twos or threes or fours and establish their own little farms; I had seen a lot come and go over the years. Bubba said that there were more than 50 people who had come and gone since he himself came to the place.
On this particular day, I lounged nude with my lower body submerged, me sitting back against a rock outcropping while I gazed at the sky. I had been swimming for a good two hours and decided to just relax. I was on the verge of dozing off when I sensed something nearby. My enhanced senses started to search for the source, which prompted me to look up.
“Hey bro, how’s it going today?” It was Hank, the grizzly bear who had arrived about two weeks ago, standing on the cliff ledge about 20 feet above my head. “Zeke, right?” I was about to cuss him out for coming to my private spot, but I couldn’t get anything before he shouted “Okay, brace yourself! Cannonball!” With that, he jumped off and splashed right in front of me. He emerged and shook himself off. “Brrr. Nice and cool in here. Neat spot you’ve got.”
I glared right at him. “Listen, New Guy, I – “
“Hank.”
I composed myself. “Yes, I know. New Guy, did Bubba tell you that this is my private spot and nobody else is allowed here?”
“Ah, yeah, but I didn’t take that seriously. You don’t mind, right?”
I swam to him and pulled him along towards a gravel bar, being gentler than I really wanted to be. “Yes, I do mind. So, you are going to leave me alone and let me do whatever I want.” We got to the gravel bar and I threw him down.
He quickly got up. “Yeah, and what if I don’t wanna?”
I walked right up to him, my chest only about a foot from his face. I flexed my muscles, looked down at him, and he looked up at me, a nervous expression coming across his face. “Leave. Now.”
He gave a nervous smile; clearly, he had bitten off more than he could chew. “Yeah, sure. Y- you’re the boss. No problem at all. I’ll just go upstream a bit and fish. You don’t have to worry about me.” He slowly backed up and disappeared into the underbrush. In case he was still watching, I gave a one-fingered salute, then returned to my private swim to while the hours away.
After a few more hours of swimming and lounging, I took a little nap at my usual spot. When I woke up, the sun was close to setting. Bubba would want me to be back soon. I cursed under my breath; this had been a nice little getaway in between plantings, but it would be back to work the next day. However, as I left the water, my nose picked up on a delicious smell coming from the east. I followed the tantalizing odor upstream of the pool. From a distance, I could see a small fire. It was Hank. He was cooking something. I hid behind a small rock outcropping.
Hank had a fish on a spit over the fire. Not just that, he seemed to be rustling around, getting various nearby plants, crushing them up and using them to season the fish. Then he went back to the stream as if concentrating on a specific spot. He laser focused on something and then dove face-first into the water. Moments later he came out with a fish desperately trying to escape his jaws. Hank grasped it and sliced the thing open, cleaning it before placing it on the spit next to the other one. Then it was back to seasoning. And finally, back to the stream to catch another one.
Between the smell and my empty stomach, my mouth started to water. I moved closer to get a better look. My movement must have caught Hank’s attention, as he looked up abruptly from the spot that he was concentrating at. “Hey, good to see you again.”
“Hey,” I replied back.
“You don’t mind me fishing here do you?”
“No, this isn’t my spot. Do whatever you want.”
He cautiously looked back at the fire. “You hungry?”
My stomach growled in reply. “Yeah, a little.”
“Well, come on over. I was just about done, but I’ll get a few more caught. I think you’ve got a bigger appetite than I do.”
“Sure.” I went over and sat next to the fire.
“I’m going to catch a few more. Here.” He handed me a few leaves. “Crush these up and put them on the fish in the center.”
The leaves had a different fragrance from what I had smelled earlier, sort of a citrus scent. “Are these the same as on the other fish?”
“Actually, I’m trying some different things out. I want to see how the herbs here affect flavors. This is all brand new to me and I want to see what I can do.” I followed his instructions and looked over at him do his work. His concentration was like nothing that I had seen before. Maybe if I could figure it out, I could do my own fishing. He caught four more and stuck them on the fire, each with their own herbs and flavors.
Hank transferred a whole fish onto a plate and handed it my way before getting one himself. “Enjoy.” And boy did I. He had a talent for flavors. Somehow, he knew exactly what to add to both enhance and bring the flavors out. We managed to get through all six fish.
When we were finished, Hank laid back against me and I started giving him a belly rub. I unintentionally let out a loud belch, which caused him to laugh. As I kept rubbing, he started getting hard, soon followed by me getting an erection too. I kept rubbing him, my paw slowly moving further south into his pubic region. He turned his head to nuzzle my snout. The nuzzling turned to licking, and the licking turned to kissing.
Hank began jerking me off, which I returned back to him. His pre started to flow and I bent down to lick it off of his cockhead. He proceeded to nibble my ear from behind, which had never been done to me before, but I really liked it. My licking turned to full on oral sex, my rough tongue giving him a decent stimulation. I could tell that he was liking it as his flow really increased. He then pulled me up into a long kiss.
Hank laid on his back and I straddled him, with my cock in his face and his in mine. We deep-throated each other, me getting all the way down to the hilt. I’d occasionally go off to lick his nutsack or moan in pleasure, but I tried to keep at the task at hand. Finally, I couldn’t take any more and unloaded into his mouth, roaring at the intense orgasm. Hank always managed to swallow even the biggest loads without a problem, a trait that I’ve always been impressed with.
Following my climax, I laid down and Hank aimed his cock right at my face while jerking himself. Within moments, I felt his warm spunk spray all over my nose and forehead. It dripped down through my fur and down the side of my face where I happily licked it up. Hank bent down and licked my face clean, before settling right beside me. The sun had set with reds and purples filling the sky.
“Hey, man, is what Bubba said true? You pretty much remember all of your old life?”
I felt a twinge of irritation at this question. “Yeah, wish I didn’t. This life’s better.” Wanting to change the subject away from me, I asked “What about you? You haven’t talked about your old life much since you got here.”
Hank hesitated a little at this. “Well, the thing is, I, well, you know…” He sort of trailed off.
“No, I don’t know.”
“Well, okay, the thing is, I actually don’t remember my old life all that well. I mean, there are some things that I really remember a lot of, like my job. I remember my office, my coworkers, where I got coffee. I remember hiking a lot. But my family? It’s like a big blank space. I don’t remember my parents or anything, at all. I don’t know if I even had parents, like, maybe I was adopted or fostered or something. I mean, probably not, but you never know. Or any of the rest of my family. Weird, huh?”
I looked at him, actually feeling a bit of sympathy. “Really, you don’t remember anything about them?”
He sighed and rested his head on my chest. “No, nothing. Not even like something at the tip of my mind. They’re all gone. I don’t even know if I should be sad about it. Who do you remember?”
I huffed a little. “Well, like I said, I don’t like to remember.”
“Oh. Sorry. Anyway, is that pool still a private place?”
I sighed and wrapped my right arm around him. “You know what, buddy? I think I might be willing to make an exception.”
Summer
I was lying in the shade by the barn, waiting for Hank to show up. Summer had always been my least favorite season, even before I got turned into a polar bear man. I could certainly tolerate the heat, but I much preferred the cold. At least planting season was over, meaning much less physically demanding work. And there were ways to keep myself cool; of course, my favorite swimming spot was always an option, but I could also hang out in one of the cellars if I didn’t care about the dankness too much.
“Zeke, I don’t know about this.” I looked back to see Hank, completely covered in thick white coveralls with canvas gloves, and a large-brimmed hat and veil. “It’s fucking hot in this thing.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well, I’m a fucking polar bear, and it’s just as fucking hot for me too, but you don’t hear me bitching about wearing it. Zeke got me on this, and I’m getting you on it, too.” I looked over on the hillside about a quarter of a mile away where Bubba was watching us. Bee keeping was the one responsibility that I had not managed to get him to be involved in in any way, which was funny, because talking to the bears who had come and gone over the years, he had been the one to introduce it. Bubba waved at us from his perch; I considered flipping him off, but just waved back.
“Listen, it’s not just that. I- Okay, I should have told you this earlier when you first told me about doing the beekeeping.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “Yes?”
Hank hesitated, but then went on. “I’m allergic to bees.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded by this statement. “You’re allergic to bees?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“How do you know that you’re allergic to bees?”
“I was before, you know, before I got turned into a bear.”
What the ever living fuck? “You are a completely different species now. I’m sure that doesn’t apply anymore.”
“Well, what if it does? I’m still half human, right? At least, I think I’m half human. I mean, why risk it? Before, I had to have one of those, you know, pen things. One time at work, I got stung when I walked by the flowers out front, and I went into shock. Somebody injected me in time, but I could have died. We don’t have those here.”
“You’re just trying to get out of bee keeping duty, aren’t you?”
This comment seemed to piss him off a little, but he managed to keep it down. “No, of course not. What, do you want to be put in mortal danger? Besides, Bubba doesn’t bee keep.”
“Bubba and I have an arrangement.” Okay, technically it wasn’t an arrangement, it was more of a one-way directive. Saying this clearly didn’t make Hank happy. “Listen, that’s why we have the coveralls and the gloves and the veils. And really, the hide on most of your body should be thick enough that the stingers typically won’t go through. I’ve only gotten a handful of stings that really hurt on my body, and that’s when I wasn’t wearing the equipment like I should have. You mostly just need to keep them away from your face, and you should be okay.”
Hank still looked hesitant. “Really, why risk it?”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Fine, I’ll do all the work. You and Bubba can jerk each other off over there while I get shit done.”
“Fantastic! Thanks, Zeke, I knew you’d understand.” Either failing to hear the sarcasm or choosing to ignore it, Hank ran off enthusiastically towards Bubba, shedding his protective clothing the whole way over. I scowled at them, but went into the barn to get the rest of my equipment. Hank was right about one thing; the suits were fucking hot. Despite what I had said about our hides being thick enough, I could remember a few stingers getting through when I wasn’t careful enough, so maybe he wasn’t being too cautious to avoid them. But I was still skeptical of his allergy claim.
I walked towards the hives, twenty in all. Hank was sitting with Bubba off in the distance, both of them smiling and waving at me cheerfully. This time, I did flip them off. Then I got back to my work. With bee hives, the real prize wasn’t the honey, although that was definitely good, especially on our biscuits. No, the real goal was getting the bee larvae. Ounce per ounce, they were higher protein than the antelope that we would sometimes hunt or even the fish that Hank was so adept at catching, and they took much less energy to acquire. It was just that they were a huge pain to get.
The first hive seemed unusually active; maybe the hot weather had them more riled up than usual. I got my smoker trained on to the entrance to the hive, and that seemed to help calm them down. This one went pretty easily; I pried open the hive and managed to pick out about half of the larvae to snack on later. Of course, we couldn’t take too many of them; we needed enough to keep the hive going, not to mention a certain number to survive the winter. While I was at it, I filled a small jar with honey. With my job done, I put the slots back in place and closed the hive up again. I held the larvae jar up close to my face; as a human, the site of the little grub things would have turned my stomach, but now I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the sight of the little fat and protein-rich larvae.
It was on to the second hive. Somehow, the bees in this one seemed even more pissed than the first hive. The way all of the bees swarmed over me was actually starting to get me a little hesitant, but I decided to power through. The smoker still seemed to work its magic, and I managed to collect a decent amount of larvae. The third hive was where things started to turn south. My first mistake was doing this on an empty stomach. My small bucket of larvae was starting to look mighty tasty. What would it hurt? Just a little taste?
I pulled the veil open and popped a few grubs into my mouth. Though far from satisfying, it held my hunger a little. I pulled the veil down, but quickly learned that I had made a mistake. A single bee had managed to slip in and landed right on my nose. I stared cross-eyed it, hoping it didn’t have any ideas. “Pfff,” I tried to blow it away. “Pfff, pfff, get away you little fucker.” Unfortunately, it didn’t listen, and it sank its stinger right into my nose.
It happened so fast. Pain immediately erupted from a very sensitive part of my face. I cursed loudly and tried to grasp my nose, but the veil made it difficult to access. I stumbled backwards into a hive; now, they were seriously pissed. In the chaos, my hat and veil came off and I was instantly swarmed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” They were all over my face, even getting down into the suit through the neckline. I covered my eyes and anything else that I could protect, but I was quickly overwhelmed. It was almost like they could identify the most sensitive parts of my face and went right for them. Stingers filled my lips, ears and nose, even a few into the thinner skin on my neck. I had to get out of there.
I tried my best to crawl out, but I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t even know what direction I was facing. Trying to crawl one-handed was difficult in the chaos. I was really starting to believe that I was a goner when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Zeke! Hold on to me! I’ll lead you out!” I looked up to see someone wearing a veil that had been tucked into the neck of a long-sleeved shirt. Whoever it was, I wasn’t going to complain, especially since I was starting to feel the bee venom working on my system. I managed to pull myself up and leaned on his shoulder. The bees continued their attack, but we managed to get past the worst of it.
When it seemed like we were completely away from the swarm, the figure stripped my suit off. “Bubba, we’re free!” I recognized the voice as Hank’s. Bubba ran around the corner and grabbed me from the other side. They both walked me into the cabin, Hank sitting me on the couch while Bubba put some tea on the stove. “Zeke, you’re somehow even uglier than normal.” I intended to cuss Hank out, but then looked in the mirror opposite the couch and saw just how right he was. My face looked like absolute shit, multiple stingers sticking out and bad swelling. “All right, take it easy. Just lay back.”
As it turned out, the tea wasn’t for drinking. Bubba soaked a sponge with it and patted the stingers. It gave a curious numbing sensation all over my face. “Okay, boy, now we need to get the stingers out.”
My lips had gone numb, so all that I could spit out was an “Ahb bright,” in response. Hank and Bubba took turns pulling the little stingers out. The tea did its job at numbing the pain, except in a few spots that Bubba had missed, and those stingers getting pulled hurt like a motherfucker. When they were finished, there were well over a hundred stingers in all.
Then Hank came over with a jar of honey and started smearing it on my wounds. “Don’t lick it off. It’ll help keep infections from setting in.” Despite the serious discomfort that I was in, I started snickering.
“Yeah, I appreciate the irony, too.”
“Hangb,” I was barely able to spit out. “You bulled be oub. You… You… Ugh. Blarg.”
“Yeah, I know. But I was willing to risk it. I’ve really gotten accustomed to that ugly mug of yours.”
I got really sick for about five days; the venom from the stingers must have been pretty intense; large purple splotches on my skin were visible through my white fur. I had managed to keep the bees out of my eyes, but they had stung my cheeks, resulting in most of my vision being blocked by the swelling. Thankfully, Bubba and Hank took turns helping me heal, alternating between nursing me and running the farm. They waited on me hand and foot the whole time. Hank even walked me out to the latrine when I needed it (and I’ll confess, I bitched about it the whole time).
Eventually, I fully recovered. And you know what, Hank was willing to help with the bee keeping from then on out. We of course made sure that he was completely covered up. Honestly, I told him that he didn’t have to, but he insisted. And he never got stung. Come to think of it, I don’t think we ever found out if he was still allergic.
Autumn
Harvesting season had started. I had decided to relax on the porch after a long day of work. I was sore, and not the good kind of sore. Even lying down felt more than a little difficult, but I managed to get some degree of comfort. As I lounged, I decided to snack on some wild grapes. The ones that we had were exceptionally sweet; I didn’t know if it was because the variety happened to be that way, or if my bear taste buds could just pick the flavor out better. As I ate, a small mouse-like rodent with huge ears and a long, tufted tail ran on to the wood pile near the porch. I had always been astounded by the native animals that lived in the Bearworld; they were similar enough to be familiar, yet the differences were enough to make them exotic. If the little fellow was trying to hide from me, it wasn’t doing a very good job, not that I typically considered rodents a source of food.
It quickly became clear that it wanted one of my grapes, slowly moving towards the bunch that I had laid on the wood pile. I started to reach for the bunch, but it didn’t run off. Deciding to be nice, I picked one off and held it out to the rodent. It seemed to consider the offer hesitantly, sniffing the offering as if it wondered if I had any nefarious plans, but it then quickly grabbed the treat. We stared at each other for a solid ten seconds before it ran to the other side of the wood pile. Then, it jumped off and expanded its ears into two miniature parachutes, allowing it to glide about ten feet horizontally from the wood pile, where it landed and scampered off into the underbrush. I casually wondered if I had just made a new friend.
“Hey, Zeke, feeling well rested?” I looked out to see Hank walking uphill to the porch. He was returning from his usual afternoon nap under his favorite tree.
“Ugh, not entirely, Hank. You have a good nap?”
Hank arched his back, followed by a loud, conspicuous pop. “Yeah, but not good enough. I can’t wait until harvesting season is over. How do you feel?”
I rolled over onto my back. “Like I’m dead and I just don’t know it yet.”
He walked up the stairs and sat down next to me with his legs dangling off the edge of the porch. “Dead? You mean stiff, right?”
I smiled at that. “Yeah, you can say that. Are you, you know, stiff?”
Hank slowly unbuttoned his shirt and got a little closer to me. “Maybe. How tired are you?”
“Never too tired for you.” I sat up and pulled Hank closer to me. A good afternoon fuck had almost become routine by now. We wrapped our arms around each other, my tongue pushing into his mouth, ready to get started right there on the porch, when I heard a timid, scared voice behind me. “Wha-, wha-, what the hell?”
I let go of Hank and whipped around to see who it was. Somebody had come through the shed doorway, a nude chubby skunkman, possibly the first non-bear to ever come through. The guy was about six feet tall, with a hefty gut in front and a large white streak down his back. Hank smiled to see a new face and walked down the stairs towards the new guy. “Hey, man, welcome. Good to see you. Don’t be scared, we’re friendly. We’re all buds here. I’m Hank.”
Hank’s assurances didn’t seem to be putting the skunk at ease. He backed up with his hands in front of him. “Whoa, stay away from me,” he said apprehensively.
Hank continued walking towards him. I realized that this likely wouldn’t turn out well. “Uh, Hank…”
“Don’t worry, man. Let’s just get to know each other. You’ll feel right at home.”
“Hank, seriously, don’t. I don’t think you’re…”
The skunk’s eyes expanded with fear. “Don’t hurt me. Who are you?”
Hank took two steps closer to the skunk. “We’re all friendly here. Just-“ And with that, in one swift motion, almost a complete blur, the skunk turned around, lifted his tail and then…
“UNNNNNN! ARGGHHHHH! UHHNNNNNN! AGGHHHHH!” Hank had been sprayed. Full. Blast. Direct hit. And it was strong. Just from the porch, it was almost unbearable, and Hank was about 20 feet from me. He collapsed to his knees and hurled right on the spot. “UGGGGHNNNN! FUUUCCCKKK!”
The skunk was shocked by what he had just done. “I-, I, I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. I- I- I don’t know what I just did. What’s going on?” He started reaching out towards Hank.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” Hank yelled out with one hand over his eyes, before upchucking once again. The skunk held back.
Bubba ran around the corner and immediately held his nose. “What just- ? Phew wee, that’s about the worst smell ever. What’s going on here?”
The skunk looked right at Bubba. “I, I think I sprayed him. But I don’t see how that could happen. How any of this is happening. Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?”
I ran to Hank, who was still retching, doing my best to hold my breath. “This guy came through and Hank scared him. I guess it was a little overwhelming.” Boy, just being right by him was almost enough to make me vomit. “Listen, Bubba, I think that I should take care of Hank. Why don’t you, you know, introduce the skunk guy properly?”
Tears were streaming from Hank’s eyes and his nose was running like crazy. Bubba looked from Hank to the skunk and back to me. “Yeah, I think that’s best. Mr., uh? Who are you?”
The skunk seemed to have calmed down a little by this point. “I’m… My name is Stinky. At least, that was my nickname. But, I don’t think that’s my real name. I can’t remember my real name.”
“Well, Mr. Stinky, just promise me that you won’t spray me like that and I promise you that I’ll make this a pleasant introduction to this place. I’m Bubba and that polar bear is Zeke. And the unfortunate fellow that you sprayed is Hank.”
Despite introducing us, Stinky’s eyes were fixed on Bubba and his cock started rising. “Yeah, sure. Nice to … meet you. Let’s … get to know each other. Better.”
Bubba walked up to him and put his arm around the skunk’s shoulders, Stinky’s dick turning rock hard. “Sure thing. You know, as bad as that spray was, maybe we can work on you concentrating it just right. Some of the guys here like a good stink. Who knows? You might get pretty popular around here.”
I helped Hank stand up, me holding my nose the whole time. “You hear that? Popular. Kaff. Kaff. Good for him.”
Bubba threw a pissed look Hank’s way. “Zeke, get him clean. Now. I’ll take care of Stinky.”
“Yeah, sure. C’mon pal.” Bubba took the skunk inside, while I slowly helped walk Hank to the back of the cabin (with loud grunts and other noises starting to come from inside). Hank almost vomited a third time. Thankfully, he didn’t; between the odor and the sight of someone tossing their cookies, it was everything that I could do to not throw up myself. Finally, we got to the small metal tub that we occasionally used to take quick baths in. “Okay, buddy, time to get clean.” He stripped off his remaining clothes, throwing them to the side for later cleaning.
Hank was obviously still miserable, but he seemed to have acclimated to the odor somewhat, at least to the point that he wasn’t on the verge of getting sick again. “Ugh, I didn’t think that I could ever feel this bad. Oh, fuck me.”
“Ah, you’re just being a big baby.” This comment prompted him to flip me the bird. “We just need to figure out how to get you clean. Let’s see. If I remember right, people kept saying that you needed to use tomato juice to get skunk spray off. But we don’t have any tomatoes. Hmmm. We’ve got vinegar; maybe it’s the acid that does it. We could give you a vinegar bath.”
“Whatever, just get this shit off of me.”
I ran off and came back with a small barrel of vinegar that we typically used to pickle food, as well as a bar of lye soap. “All right, sit down in the tub. We’ll have you good as new in no time.” He sat down cross-legged and I poured the vinegar over his head. He shuddered, clearly not enjoying any of this in any way. It took a fair amount to get him covered and the tub full; I had to grab a second barrel to completely fill it. When I was done with that, I grabbed the lye soap and a brush and started scrubbing.
I tried to get every last square inch of him clean. It actually seemed to be working okay. The odor didn’t entirely go away, but it did get less intense. But, man, he had just about the pissiest look on his face the whole time. I started to feel myself trying to hold back a chuckle. “This is fucking bullshit.”
“Snrk.”
Hank whipped around to look at me. “What was that?”
Uh oh. I shouldn’t have done that. “Nothing, just sneezed you know,” I answered lamely. “Snrk.”
Hanks eyes widened with anger. “You’re laughing at me.”
“No, I’m not. Honest. Snrk. Heh.” I couldn’t control myself.
“You asshole! You’re laughing at me!”
There was no use denying it. “Heh, heh. I’m s- sorry. Honestly, I am. Heh, hee. I’m really not doing this on purpose. I’m really sorry. Honest. Hah heh heh, ha ha.” It was now open laughter.
“Fuck you!” Really, this just made me laugh harder. He stood up in the tub and the sight of him completely covered in soap suds had me absolutely losing it. He seemed to be trying to walk out of the tub, but instead he stepped on the side, causing him to fall over and completely faceplant, the vinegar and soap suds flowing over him immediately after he hit the ground. It was hysterical. I actually fell backwards, holding my sides with laughter.
He slowly stood up, his face completely caked with mud. After wiping it off of his eyes, he glared right at me now completely in hysterics. “You know what? Fuck all of this. I am going down to the creek and washing myself without any of your ‘help.’ So fuck off.” With that, he flipped me off and tromped down the hill towards the stream.
I had a good two or three minutes of laughs. And then I felt like absolute shit. Sure, between the situation and his reactions, I thought the whole thing was hilarious (and it was), but I couldn’t control myself. Man, I should have controlled myself. If I had been in the same situation, I probably would have been much worse, but Hank would have been the responsible one. I briefly considered following him to apologize, but felt that he needed his alone time.
I made a plan for making it up to Hank. I talked to Bubba about Hank and me having some alone time and he agreed. He could give Stinky a little tour of the place in the meantime. And then I started cooking.
Hank didn’t get back until about sundown. He was glowering in a way that I rarely saw from him. “Evening, man. Feeling better?” He just plopped himself down on the bed, not even bothering to look at me. But then he began sniffing the air. “So, you noticed the honey biscuits I made.”
I could practically hear his mouth start to water. “You’re just trying to butter me up after today.”
I pulled a pan out of the oven, where I had kept them to stay warm. “Yes, I am, but I’ve never known you to say no to these.”
I took the pan over to the bed where he looked me over skeptically. But there was no way that he was going to turn them down. He grabbed a biscuit and immediately shoved it into his face. He actually moaned with how good it was. “Hoo, boy.”
“Want another?”
He stared right at me. “All for me?”
I smiled back. “All for you. Honest.”
Without hesitation, he grabbed the biscuits and shoveled them in, as if this was the first time that he had ever had anything so wonderful. It only took about five minutes for the baker’s dozen to be gone. When he was finished, he laid back in bed with a satisfied grin. “Zeke, I appreciate this. But this doesn’t entirely make up for today.”
“Yeah, I know. But how about this?” I got on the bed on top of him and began licking his face. He smiled at this and our lips joined together, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I sat up and undid the snaps on my overalls. He helped me out of them, followed by a few good licks to my cock. But I wanted this to be about him.
I went back to the foot of the bed and lifted his legs into the air to lick his balls. He moaned at that and I began to move south. Typically, I didn’t give Hank rim jobs, at least not before this little incident. He had given me a few, and Bubba was more than willing to give some himself, but I hadn’t usually offered them to Hank. And I’ve got to say, he really seemed to like mine. “Ooh, Zeke. You really know what to do with your tongue. Yeah, fuck.” I accelerated my eating out, resulting in some very happy grunts from Hank. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Ah, ah, ah, Zeke, yeah.”
I moved back to his balls, him grimacing at my rough tongue on his nut sack as I fingered his hole. When I was finished with his scrotum, I pulled myself up and wrapped my arms and legs around Hank’s body. We nuzzled each other before giving some fairly deep kisses. And then I pulled myself up and positioned myself right over his rock-hard cock. I slowly lowered myself down onto it, bracing myself the whole time. Hank wasn’t as big as me, but he still had a fairly decent tool.
Finally, I managed to get it all in. Hank grunted as I moved up and down on his pole. I moved up and down on him and he made sure to give my cock a good hand job in the meantime. We kept at it for a good ten minutes until he got close to unloading. I slowed down when I felt his orgasm start before accelerating as his hot seed filled me. The sensation sent me over the edge, causing me to shoot my load right into Hank’s face. I got off of him and licked his face clean.
I laid down and held him in bed for a couple of minutes. “Listen, after the bath, I stopped by and met the skunk. You know, Stinky. He actually seems like a pretty cool guy if you get to know him. I think you two should meet properly, let bygones be bygones.”
Hank grimaced. “Sure. But, not tonight. I’m better, but I am really not in the mood.”
I shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“But, fine, okay. I know it’s not really his fault,” he said sleepily. “I’ll give him a fair shake. It just wasn’t a good first impression, you know? Mmmm.” He yawned and smacked his lips.
I hugged him closer. “Of course it wasn’t. But hey, we can always move past that. Did you ever hear of the time that I first came through and met Bub…?” I quickly shut my mouth. A great wave of shame swept over me at the way I had acted when I first came to the Bearworld. What I would have done to Bubba. But Hank didn’t catch on to it. In fact, he had fallen asleep in my arms. I looked at his chest as it rose and fell, holding him close and feeling his heartbeat as I drifted off to sleep.
Winter
Hank was getting impatient. “Aren’t we ever going to catch a fish? It’s fucking freezing out here.” The whole charted Bearworld had hit an unusual cold snap. Nothing to bother me, of course; I could get by with just my standard overalls. Sometimes, I would walk around in the nude during the deep freeze just to show off, prompting mock outrage from anybody who had to bundle up in this weather. I had to admit that Hank was better than most at not complaining about the cold, but everybody has their limits. He could live without his clothes during cold weather, but it was certainly more comfortable bundled up. However, on this chilly winter night, he was trying to be the tough guy, wearing his typical red flannel shirt and jeans.
Bubba needed someone to babysit a farm for a week while the two bears who normally ran it were visiting another farm about 20 miles away, and the two of us volunteered. As luck would have it, they had a nice fishing lake that had frozen over, and we decided to try our hands at ice fishing. Although Hank had demonstrated his skill at catching fish, the water was way too cold for him to handle; his fur was good for all but the most severe cold weather, but he wasn’t nearly insulated enough to handle subfreezing water. As for me, although I could handle the cold water just fine, I had never managed to catch a fish with my bare paws (not that I would ever admit that). There we were, out in the middle of the lake around the foot-wide hole that I had managed to chisel out, shooting the shit while we hoped to catch something.
“I swear Zeke, I doubt Bubba would let any of this happen. If he finds out that you’re torturing me like this, you’ll be sent back home.”
“Yeah, keep bitching. You’ll be thanking me when we’re cooking up a nice, fat, juicy carp on the fire.”
“I don’t think that I’m going to thank you for anything. And I don’t mean just for this; I mean, like, for anything ever again in the future. I’m never showing any sort of gratitude towards you for the rest of our mutual existences.”
I gave a look of mock offense. “For anything? Not even giving you blow jobs? You always appreciated those.”
“Oh, I’ll take it; why would I say no to that? But you’re not getting a “Thanks” or a “Thank you” or a word of appreciation of any sort. All because you dragged me out to a fucking lake in the middle of a fucking subzero wind storm so that we can maybe catch a fish, but probably not. And I’m certainly not giving you a blow job in return. I hope that you and your right paw get very well acquainted with each other.”
“Oh, my right paw, you say? We happen to be old friends, him and me. We sneak behind your back all the time when you’re not looking. That doesn’t mean that we need to keep you out.” I then formed my right hand into the shape of a mouth and moved it while speaking in a falsetto. “Don’t listen to him, Zeke. He’s trying to tear us apart. I know exactly what you need. Just find a nice thing of lube and I’ll treat you right. Always.” “I gotta say, Hank, he makes a good point.”
Hank snickered at that. “All right, all right, I’ll stop bitching. I just need to catch something soon. It seems like we’ve been out here for five goddamn hours.”
“Yeah, I was hoping we’d get something by now too. Well, you can’t beat the company, can you? Speaking of which, how’d you like a look at something a little more scenic?” I set the fishing pole into a small wooden holder that I had fashioned and stuck it into the ice. Then, I stripped out of my overalls and sat back in my chair with my hands relaxing behind my neck. “Ah, much better. That clothing was way too hot.” To be honest, the cold was just a little below my comfort level, but I loved showing off. Especially when that showing off involved going rock hard in front of the other bears.
Hank took a good long look at my erection and set his own pole down. He walked over to sit on my lap, where we deep-throated each other. Over the past year, Hank had come a long way with his kissing. Not that he had ever been bad, but Bubba and I were able to give some good pointers. He was arguably better than either of us by now. His tongue knew exactly where to go. And speaking of his tongue…
He dropped down onto his knees and wrapped his mouth around my cock. As Bubba would attest, Hank had been a pro from the beginning at oral sex, but he had also improved at this particular skill. Somehow, he could deep-throat even my massive tool, and he was putting all of his skill into this particular act. I massaged his shoulders as he gave me a blow job for the ages, seriously impressed; this was going to be a climax for the record books.
Soon enough, I could feel the ending coming. I huffed as I shot my hot seed down Hank’s throat, him taking it in like a fucking boss. Right after my orgasm died down, he stood up, wrapped his arms around me and gave me a deep-throated kiss. I gave the kiss right back, still managing to taste my cum on his breath. “I’d really like to get a taste of your cock too if you don’t mind.”
Hank grinned right back. “Yeah, I’d like to, but it’s way too fucking cold out. And I actually mean it. Even if I could stand it, I think that I’ve got some serious shrinkage going on.”
“Shrinkage? I think I’ve heard of this concept. Never happened to me of course. Well, it’s fine. We can have some fun back at the – “
“The line!” Hank quickly turned and grabbed the fishing pole. Something had snagged the line. “Come ‘ere little fishy. Daddy needs some din din.” He pulled the line, trying to real it in. “Little fucker’s got spunk, I’ll give it that.” But then, out of nowhere, a noise came at his feet that neither of us expected.
Hank looked down with a panicked look on his face. “Zeke, the ice is cracking!” He was right; small cracks spread and crisscrossed below our feet. I had thought that the cold weather would make the ice thick enough to hold us, but apparently I was wrong.
“Let go of the pole.” He obeyed, but the cracks continued to spread. His eyes were fixed on me, more than a little scared at what was happening. “All right, just get low. Spread your body weight out. You should be fine.” He paused for a full minute, which unfortunately resulted in more cracks forming. The cracks spread out under me too and I held out my hand to grab him. “Hank, what are you waiting for? Move it.”
He nodded and bent down slowly. But judging by the noise, the cracking was getting worse. Hank quickly stood up. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“C’mon, just walk over here.”
He seemed to be trying to find a decent foothold without success. Without thinking, he took a step back, resulting in his left foot sinking into the ice. Hank yelped and quickly pulled his foot out, but it resulted in an overcorrection. His entire body weight pushed his left leg into the ice in front of him, causing him to break the ice. His lower body sank through the ice into the water. He managed to dig his claws into the ice in front of him and hold on for dear life. “Zeke! Auurrgghh! Help!”
I got down onto all fours and ran towards him, but the ice block that he was holding onto broke away and he plunged into the water. Immediately, he started thrashing, desperately trying to grasp something to pull him out of the frigid lake. I plunged into the water myself and swam towards Hank. I reached him to try to pull him back towards a solid surface. I was stronger than Hank, but he was panicking; his mad flails were dragging me down with him. “Hank! Glug. Hank, stop panicking! Blluuugggg. We need to get back to shore!” He wasn’t listening. The cold wouldn’t kill me, but I could still drown if he pulled me udner.
Whatever I was going to do to save him, this wasn’t working. I considered hitting him, thinking of something that I had seen in a movie once, but decided against it. Somehow, I managed to escape his grip and move away. Then I saw my pole floating in the water. “Hank, grab this!” Despite his panic, he had the mind to grab hold of the pole. I swam towards the nearest ice shelf, holding the pole with one hand while clawing my way back onto a solid surface. Once I was firmly planted, I clawed my way from the edge, all the while keeping a firm grip on the pole. I had to claw with one hand while holding the pole with the other.
Hank looked like he was barely able to hold on any more. Just before he reached me, he lost his grip, but I was able to grab his wrist and pull him up. He was shivering like crazy. I dragged Hank a good 500 feet to the shore and set him down. I had never seen him like this before; he was balled up in the fetal position, his body almost spasming from the shivering.
“Hank, we need to get you back to the cabin! Can you walk?!” He didn’t respond; he could only focus on how desperately cold he was. I struggled to get him on his feet; his shivering made it difficult to get a decent grip on him. I had to carry him over my shoulders the whole way. Boy, I had never realized just how far it was to get there; the distance was really only about an eighth of a mile from the shoreline, but it felt like I was running a marathon. I finally managed to get him to the foot of the stairs.
I pulled Hank into the nearly completely dark cabin. In my haste, I kicked a table leg and only barely managed to stifle a loud curse. I dropped him on to the couch and stripped him out of his soaked clothes, then threw a thick blanket onto him. Thankfully, the tea kettle had been left on the stove, so I quickly poured him a cup. It was only a little above lukewarm, but it would have to do. “Here, drink this slowly.” But I quickly realized that he was shivering way too much to hold a cup of tea. “Just lay back. I’ll take care of it.”
Hank sat back onto the couch, shaking terribly. “Z- Z- Ze- Ze, huh, huh, Ze-, huh, huh, huh…” He held the blanket around himself, desperately trying to get warm. Unable to get any words out, he just quickly nodded his head.
I held the cup up to him. “Okay, just take small sips.” He managed to steady himself enough to drink a little and then laid back. A good portion of it had spilled into his fur, so I quickly got more.
“Re- Re- Huh, huh. Re- really h- hits the sp-sp-sp-spot,” he managed to spit out, smiling. I once again gave him a few sips, but he still seemed to be in bad shape. I started to panic; he could die. I looked around frantically, trying to find anything to help. Then I remembered the fireplace. The fire was dead, but there was lots of wood nearby.
“Hang tight, buddy.” I grabbed some tinder and bunched it up, the way that I remembered from camping in my human life. The coals from the stove worked to get the fire started. The flames happily ate up the small twigs and dry grass, which I then covered with larger sticks to get the real inferno going. With the fire started, I ran behind the couch and pushed it towards the fireplace, grunting the whole time, until Hank was only about three feet away from the hearth. “Feeling better?” Hank nodded, but his demeanor didn’t seem to change. “Don’t worry, we’ll get a roaring fire ready, and more tea when you’re ready.”
“H- h- heh, heh, I h- h- hate tea, you know?”
“Well, if you don’t like the taste, I’ll just pour it into your asshole,” I said, trying to make a joke, but sounding like a complete jerk in the process. But he did laugh at it a little. His shivering was starting to die down a little, but I was still seriously worried. I piled more wood on, getting the fire good and hot. I looked back at Hank, holding the blanket around himself with an expression that might have been pain or contentment.
I could feel my chest tightening. “Listen, Hank, I… I just wanted to say something, and I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but… But… Shit. How do I say this? I don’t want anything to happen to you, because…” I couldn’t spit it out. I was still afraid that he might die, and this might be the last time that I spoke to him. But I still couldn’t say it.
Hank wrapped the blanket around himself a little tighter. His eyes were closed with a broad smile, the first sign that he might be out of the woods. “It’s okay, Zeke,” Hank managed to say, the first words that he could speak without shivering. “You don’t have to say it. I love you too.”
I stared at him, his breathing gradually falling into the rhythmic calm of sleep, his chest rising and falling. He still shivered, but it was more manageable. I just sat there watching him, with every passing minute more sure that he would be okay. Then I looked off into the fire, my eyes distant, thinking about those words that he could say but I couldn’t, not knowing exactly how to feel in that moment. “Yeah.”
I stayed watching him for about an hour, wanting to make sure that he was safe, but also just wanting to be there with him. When I was finally sure that he was completely out of the woods, I gave him a kiss on the forehead and then walked onto the porch for a smoke. The wind whipping the snow around the cabin gave the impression of a mild blizzard, but the sky was completely clear with a full field of stars and the large moon shining brightly. I grabbed a cigar and lit up; it was a mild herb that we had found that was native to the Bearworld. There was no tobacco here, but it made for a decent replacement. I breathed in deep and slowly let it out, enjoying the soothing feeling that it brought. And I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time, not since I had first come here.
Or rather, I realized that I had been gradually feeling it more and more over the past year, ever since I first met Hank. The feeling reminded me so much of my previous life. I remembered my old girlfriend, Janean and me preparing for a Halloween party. We were going as Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein. Of course, as she loved to point out, Frankenstein was the doctor and the monster should really be called the Frankenstein’s Monster or the Creature. I gave mock annoyance to this correction. But somehow, the exchange prompted me to think of something. I walked back to the bedroom; I had been planning for this to happen around Thanksgiving, but felt that now would be the perfect time. I grabbed something from a hidden alcove in my closet, brought it to the living room and opened up the case.
I proposed right there, saying that us being dressed this way was a perfect sign. She smiled and took the ring, but then said, “Are you sure of that? Remember, in the movie, she hated the Creature. She was literally created for him, and she couldn’t stand him. And he ended up blowing them both up because of it.” And I just responded, “You know what, fuck it, we’re doing it anyway.” She said yes, and then we kissed, and we didn’t make it to that Halloween party. And two months later, I opened the mail on New Year’s Eve.
With that, for the first time since coming there, I felt the cold. It wasn’t the cold that I had waited all summer for, the type of cold for hunting and playing and swimming and exploring. The type of cold that I was quite literally created for. This was the cold that seeps into you, past the clothes and the fur and the fat, into your very soul. The type of cold that takes and doesn’t give. I started to feel tears form at the corners of my eyes. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered, and went back inside to warm up.