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News - Bears in Tuxes

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this”, grumbled Bear for the hundredth time in the past hour, as he shrugged his suspenders over his broad shoulders. “You know I hate these hoity-toity affairs!”

“Oh, stop grousing”, said Cub, as he stepped into Bear’s bedroom. He was already fully dressed in his rented tuxedo and was looking forward to the black-tie dinner held by Bear’s firm. “How often does one win ‘Corporate Man of the Year’?”

Bear had been struggling with his collar button, but stopped to consider the question. “Unless I’ve lost count”, he said, “This will be my fifth time. I have a shelf in my office cluttered with little knick-knacks.”

Cub was stunned. He knew that Bear was driven to achieve, but had no idea of his level of expertise. After a moment, a thought occurred to him. “And how many of these award ceremonies have you attended?” he asked.

“None”, announced Bear. He turned to Cub, almost accusingly, “I’d be ignoring this one, too, if you hadn’t fished the invitation out of the trash. I am definitely buying a paper shredder this weekend.” He turned back to the mirror and renewed his on-going fight with his collar button. “Goddamn it!” he grated, squirming, “This collar’s too tight, this wool suit itches, and these new shoes pinch.” Bear had refused to rent the patent leather pumps for which Cub had opted, claiming they were “too swishy”; he had instead purchased a pair of cap-toed oxfords, stating that once broken in, he could wear them to work. Cub noted that, despite his grumbling, Bear had taken pains to spit-shine his shoes to the point that, on first glance, one would be hard-pressed not to mistake them for patent leathers.

Cub stepped up to Bear and had the big man turn around toward him. “Let me try”, he soothed, “Chin up.” Bear complied, and Cub had the errant collar button fastened in no time. “You are going to look great”, Cub predicted. Bear cut a ruggedly handsome figure even in casual wear; a tux would show off his silver hair and beard to great advantage.

Cub took advantage of their proximity by drawing even closer. “I’ve never made love to a man in a tux before”, he said, his voice low and full of meaning. Bear draped his arms loosely over the smaller man’s shoulders and smiled warmly into Cub’s eyes. The younger man upped the ante by stepping out of a shoe and buffing Bear’s oxford with his stockinged foot.

“Careful”, warned Bear, chuckling, “You sure you want to go there?” Cub had introduced Bear to the concept of foot play as a form of sexual congress, and the big guy had been surprised at how sensitive his feet were. Now, after a month of Cub’s tutelage, just stepping into his slippers could trigger a quickening of Bear’s pulse; feeling Cub’s warm stockinged foot caress his shoe was causing the big man’s hormones to surge. “If you keep that up”, Bear said, his voice rumbling in his chest, “We’ll never make it out of this room, much less to the awards dinner.” When the smaller man chuckled and pulled away, Bear wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

Cub stepped into his shoe and struck a GQ pose, showing off the lining of his jacket. “I’ve never had an opportunity to wear a tux before. How do I look?”

Bear studied the young man and quietly beamed, all of his frustrations momentarily forgotten. “My God”, he breathed, “You’re gorgeous! No one’s going to pay any attention to me; they’ll be wondering what movie you’ll be staring in.”

Cub ducked his head and blushed, a habit Bear found utterly endearing. He has no idea how handsome he is! marveled Bear. While an outsider might not judge either man as “classically handsome”, no one would consider them ugly in the least. Cub was 28, stood 5’8”, and weighed 220 lbs. with a barrel-shaped torso, and short, thick limbs, while Bear was 6’3” and took the scale at 280 lbs, taking pride that at 51, he still had the toned lineman’s physique of his college days. As a couple, they were a study in contrast, but what a casual observer might mark as cosmetic flaws, they saw as marks of honor; what physical and personality traits one might lack, the other had. One man literally completed the other.

Cub moved closer and regarded the two of them in the full-length mirror. “Bosh”, he said, characteristically brushing aside Bear’s compliment, “I’m merely along for the ride. You’re the Man of the Hour.” He patted the big man’s massive arm. “Now finish up getting dressed”, he said, “If you need help with your tie, I’ll be downstairs.”

“How did you talk me into this?” asked Bear, shaking his head.

“Why, through my boyish charm, of course”, Cub said languidly, as he sauntered toward the doorway, “That…and my tongue in your ear.” He laughed as Bear nailed the back of his head with a balled-up pair of socks.

A few minutes later, Cub was in the kitchen fetching a pair of glasses when he heard Bear’s heavy tread on the stairs. He was not surprised to hear the big man grumbling, yet again.

“Goddam cufflinks”, Bear rumbled, “Whoever invented French cuffs should’ve been shot!” The rhythm of his decent was interrupted by a gasp, followed by a series of uneven, staccato steps and a heavy thud, followed by a groan. Cub burst from the kitchen and found Bear seated awkwardly on the bottom step, his left leg curled under him. The big man was a red-faced, disheveled mess.

“Good Lord”, gasped Cub, “Are you OK? What happened?”

With a grunt, Bear pried his foot out from under him before addressing Cub’s question. He made an obvious attempt to control his embarrassment and frustration before giving up and giving his thigh a slap. “I slipped, OK?” he said, daring Cub to laugh at his clumsiness, “I was so tied up in trying to get my cufflinks in place I forgot how slick the soles of these new shoes were.” He threw open his arms and took in his rumpled appearance, “Now look at me!” Bear’s shirt had come untucked, his carefully combed hair was in disarray, and his jacket, which had been draped over his arm, was now parked under his formidable backside. As much as Cub adored Bear, and respected the big man’s dignity, he could not suppress a smile. A warning glare from Bear merely triggered a fit of giggles. Despite himself, even Bear had to crack a smile.

“So that’s the way it is, huh?” Asked Bear, feigning insult, “The big guy takes a tumble down the stairs and you just point and laugh. Well, let’s see who’s laughing once I get my hands on you.” Bear planted his feet and heaved his bulk forward, but instead of rising, he let out a bark of pain and surprise, and sat down again, heavily, his face pale. His hand went to his left foot. Cub, who had been prepared to make a hasty retreat, shifted gears instantly, all frivolity forgotten; this wasn’t funny any more.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling in front of Bear, who was now cradling his foot in both hands and rocking back and forth.

“My ankle”, Bear gasped, “I twisted my ankle.”

Cub went into Care Mode. Even though he was currently employed as a parcel delivery man, his earlier training as a medical technician bore him in good stead, and he prided himself on his ability to stay calm in a crisis. More to the point, his man was injured and needed him; Cub would willingly die than fail Bear.

“Let me have a look”, said Cub, reaching for Bear’s foot. “Let’s get that shoe off.”

He was surprised when Bear pulled away, holding his lower leg protectively. “No”, he said, looking for all the world like a boy who had skinned his knee, “It’ll hurt. Can’t you check it with my shoe on?”

It was all Cub could do to keep from rolling his eyes. Some “Captain of Industry” he thought, if his company big-wigs saw him now, they’d pull every trophy he’d ever won. Outwardly, Cub maintained his calm demeanor. “Very well”, he said, bending over Bear’s blocky foot. Cub was relieved to see no obvious misalignment, and Bear reported being able to wriggle his toes. There was no major swelling and Bear reported only localized tenderness, as Cub gently massaged and probed the big man’s naturally thick ankle with his short, strong fingers. While Cub was initially satisfied that Bear hadn’t broken any bones or suffered a major sprain, things just weren’t lining up properly, but he didn’t quite know why. He blamed his inability to be completely impartial regarding his man, and mentally filed the symptoms should they have to go to an E.R.

“Let’s get you up off the stairs, and into a more comfortable chair”, suggested Cub, as he rose. He held out a hand to Bear, and with a practiced ease that Bear still found impressive, got the big man to his feet. Bear threw an arm over Cub’s shoulder, and they slowly made their way to the living room. Cub felt immense pride in being able to care for his man, even as he took comfort in the feel of Bear’s massive arm over his shoulder. Even in Bear’s vulnerable state, Cub felt safe and protected by the big man’s proximity. If need be, he’d gladly act as Bear’s crutch for the rest of his days.

For his part, while grateful for Cub’s assistance, Bear was rumbling like a threatening storm, cursing his clumsiness. As they approached his favorite chair, Bear unleashed his frustrations on the ottoman, giving it a sound kick. Fortunately, he had lashed out with his right foot; unfortunately, it required transferring his weight to his weak ankle. He cried out and sagged against Cub, who was caught by surprise by Bear’s outburst; they both nearly landed on the floor.

“Easy!” shouted Cub, as he fought for balance and leverage. The big man was cursing like a sailor as Cub eased him into the leather wingback chair. He had wanted to take a snapshot of Bear in his eveningwear seated in this very chair before they left for dinner. Up until his misstep, Bear had looked positively regal, and Cub thought it fitting that his image be captured while seated on his Throne. Despite his resolve to remain calm, a sigh escaped him as he gently rested Bear’s injured foot on the ottoman. Still, Cub was not so disappointed that he could resist giving his man’s well-shod foot a playful squeeze.

“I’m sorry, son”, Bear said, looking miserable, “I know you’d been looking forward to this evening. I’ve ruined everything.” He ground his teeth and gave the ottoman another kick with his right foot.

Cub knelt before him, his face earnest. “It’s OK”, he said, placing his hand on top of Bear’s, “Really. The important thing is that you’re not badly hurt. Unless your ankle swells significantly in the next hour, all you’ll need is some ice, an ace bandage and some aspirin for you to be good as new.” He gave Bear’s hand a squeeze. “How ‘bout I fix you a drink before I get that ice pack?”

Bear nodded and gave a weak smile. Cub got up and went to the bar across the room. He had hoped Bear’s mood was lifting, but by the time he returned with Bear’s scotch/rocks, the big man was slouched in his chair, glaring at his left foot as if threatening looks alone would restore the stretched tendons and ligaments to compliance. Without sparing Cub a glance, he took the proffered drink, knocked it back in a single gulp and handed the empty glass back to Cub, signaling his wish for a refill with a grunt.

Cub squared his shoulders, took the glass and slowly returned to the bar. This was not good. While he could completely sympathize with Bear’s frustration, he had no tolerance for drunkenness; if this kept up, Bear would find himself sleeping alone on the couch, bad ankle or no.

As he was preparing Bear’s drink, the phone rang at the far end of the room. If there was one thing Bear was compulsive about, it was answering a ringing phone. Waiting for an answering machine to pick up was pure torture to the man; he’d even answer pay phones. Out of habit, Bear bounced out of his chair and strode across the room. Cub’s jaw dropped when he saw that Bear did so with no effort, no limp, not even a grunt when the big man rose from his chair. The conversation was brief, and Bear seemed satisfied as he swaggered back to his chair, all previous misery forgotten.

“That was Morrie, asking why we were late”, he explained, unbuttoning his collar, “I told him that we had an unexpected ‘family emergency’, couldn’t make it, and gave our apologies.” It was only then that Bear noticed Cub’s look of astonishment. Bear paused, realized his error and grimaced. He then affected a look of pained hopefulness as he lifted his left foot and squeaked out, “Ow…?”

“You bastard!” Cub shouted, slamming the glass on the bar. “I knew you weren’t thrilled about going to this dinner, but I didn’t dream you’d pull a cheap stunt like this to get out of it!”

“I’m sorry”, Bear said softly, his shoulders dropping. “It wasn’t all a lie. I didn’t plan that fall down the stairs; I actually did slip, and I did hurt my ankle….a little.”

Cub was unmoved.

“Look”, said Bear, trying a different tact, “Did you really want to sit through an event in a room filled with total strangers, eating over-cooked chicken while in uncomfortable clothes?”

“No”, Cub allowed, “What I wanted to do was to see my man getting the recognition he deserves. The fact that you’d look fantastic in the process was a pure bonus.”

“Oh, fuck the plaque!” scoffed Bear, “Any trophy shop can crank one out in an hour. As for looking good…well, I think I managed to take care of that.” As he approached Cub, Bear made a big show of deliberately stumbling over his own feet, and caught himself at the bar. He looked up and gave Cub an oafish, lopsided grin, mocking his own clumsiness, and at that, the remainder of the young man’s pique dissolved. Cub shook his head, marveling at how easily Bear could manipulate him, and grateful that the dissembling had been harmless.

“Well, now what?” asked Cub. “We are literally all dressed up with no place to go.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something”, Bear growled, bobbing his thick eyebrows. “You had mentioned something about doing naughty things to a man in a tux, as I remember.”

Cub came around to Bear’s side of the bar, smiling wickedly. “I had thought we’d wait until after the dinner”, he said softly, “but it looks like we can cut right to the chase.” He led Bear back to the wingback chair, and had the big man sit down. For his part, Cub sat facing Bear on the ottoman. He patted his thigh, and Bear swung a foot up and rested it on the sturdy man’s leg.

“Did I ever tell you that I think you have the sexiest feet in the world?” Cub asked, gently stroking Bear’s blocky shoe. The big guy sank deeper in his chair and sighed contentedly, lacing his fingers over his belly. He shook his foot gently, until Cub took hold of it and gave it a squeeze. “Even better…you know what kind of boots and shoes to wear to set them off. Just the sight of your shoes in the closet can make me hard!”

“Guess that explains the mess I found on my brown boots, yesterday”, mused Bear.

Cub froze, then blushed hotly. He released Bear’s foot, certain he was going to get his ass chewed. They’d been living together for a little over a month, and were still feeling their way around the ground rules. “I’m sorry”, he said, unable to look the big man in the eye. “When you came home yesterday, and fell asleep on the couch without taking them off, I nearly went nuts. The sight of your booted foot brushing the floor nearly drove me crazy. It was all I could do to keep myself from dry-humping the floor, while fondling your boot. So, I waited until you were in the shower, grabbed your boots and jacked off on them. I barely had time to get them back in your closet before you came out of the bathroom; I did a piss-poor job of cleaning them off. I’ll leave your stuff alone from now on.”

Bear leaned forward in his chair and held Cub’s hand. He waited until Cub met his gaze before saying anything.

“First off, I’m not angry.” Bear explained. “Granted, I was a bit surprised to find my boots spotted with jizz, but it didn’t piss me off. I am a bit disappointed that you felt you had to hide this from me, though. I don’t understand why you find my boots and shoes so appealing…Hell, I don’t even know why we’re Gay… but I do know that it’s an important part of your sex life, and I’m flattered that you find mine so darn attractive.”

Cub managed an awkward smile, so Bear continued.

“The point is, you’ve helped me open a few doors I didn’t even know existed. While I can’t say I get off on your shoes, you’ve made me realize that I like having my feet played with. That’s something I would’ve never known about without your help. In fact, I might’ve liked seeing you down there playing with my foot last night, if you had let me know.

“Let’s make a deal: If at any time you want to play with my boots, take ‘em. It’s not like I’m afraid you’re going to steal them; except for my socks, you couldn’t wear anything of mine, any way. And, if I’m at home, wearing a pair that you find irresistible, go for it. My only request is that you give me a little warning; I wouldn’t want to be climbing down a ladder when you grab my foot, or dead asleep when you decide to jump me – I might not wake up! In short, ask first. The worst that’ll happen is that I’ll say no. More than likely, if I’m not in the mood, I’ll just take my boots off and let you play with them. In the meantime, if ever I can’t find a pair of shoes or boots, I’ll know to look in your room.”

This last bit gave Bear pause, and he chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Fuck it”, he pronounced, “This separate bedroom set-up is bogus. When I asked you to move in with me, I meant for you to be with me. Tomorrow, I want you to bring your stuff into the master bedroom with me. If I need to look for my shoes, I’ll just check your side of the bed; why the hell should I have to traipse down the hall?”

Cub’s face lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Bear smiled at him warmly, then placed his foot on the edge of the ottoman, between Cub’s legs.

“Now”, he harrumphed, feigning impatience, “Are you going to fuck my shoe, or do I take them back to the store tomorrow?”

Cub clapped his hand over Bear’s instep, pressing the sole of the glossy shoe against his crotch. “I am going to fuck this shoe until Hell itself wouldn’t take it back”, he predicted.

Bear felt something firm through the sole of his shoe and shifted his foot. The firmness moved, grew and rolled under his arch until it was pinned between his foot and Cub’s thigh. Bear rocked his foot, stroking Cub’s dick with the edge of his shoe sole, and the young man moaned.

Bear’s hand drifted to his own crotch. Not only did he like the feel of Cub’s hands on his foot, the sight of his man in the throes of ecstasy was damned exciting. Bear’s tuxedo trousers were getting mighty snug…and were damned hot, to boot. He unfastened the waistband and opened the fly as his beefy dick strained for release. A basso purr rumbled in Bear’s chest as he pried his meat out of his shorts into the open air, the corona red and glistening, as if angered for being held captive for so long. He stroked it gently, as if trying to soothe it.

Cub’s approach was more direct. He released Bear’s foot, and stood up, quickly stripping off the confining evening wear; in no time, he was in all his stocky, furry, naked glory. Bear beamed at him, as Cub was the only man he knew who could look equally stunning completely starkers, or dressed to the nines. Cub’s erect member pointed slightly upward, nodding its gratitude of Bear’s appreciation, as the young man reclaimed his seat on the ottoman.

As Bear maneuvered his foot back onto Cub’s lap, the sole of his shoe brushed the head of Cub’s dick. The contact was electric and Cub sat bolt upright, sucking air between his teeth.

Bear pulled his foot back sharply, alarmed. “Are you all right, baby?” Bear asked anxiously. If he had somehow hurt, or damaged Cub by his clumsiness, he’d never forgive himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, Cub replied, collecting himself. “I was just surprised, that’s all. That was utterly fantastic!”

“What was?” asked Bear, his foot still suspended in mid-air. He was hopelessly confused.

Cub slid off the ottoman, and lowered himself to the floor, sliding his legs under Bear’s chair. Bear was now regarding him with some alarm; had Cub completely flipped?

Cub smiled up at Bear, and gently tapped the big man’s foot, signaling him to lower it. The young man gently guided it toward his crotch. When Bear realized where Cub was directing his big foot, he tried to pull back, but Cub merely tightened his grip.

“You were the one who told me to ‘go for it’”, Cub reminded him, smiling wickedly, “You’re not in a position to complain about getting what you requested.”

Bear tried to relax, still not understanding what his man wanted, but trusting in Cub’s instincts. He let his foot be guided until the heel of his shoe rested on Cub’s balls while the ball of his foot teetered on the burly man’s thick dick. Cub ran a hand under Bear’s pant leg and gently groped the big man’s massive calve.

“Pretend you’re attempting to climb down a rope ladder”, Cub prompted. “I’m below you and will guide your foot, but the rungs keep moving out from under you.”

“OK”, said Bear, warming up to the concept Cub was suggesting. He lifted his foot and brushed the sole of his shoe along the length of Cub’s dick. As he anticipated, the beefy tool twitched at the contact, and Cub gasped. “Whups…you’re right. I can’t find my footing. Let me try again….” This time, he brought the ball of his foot to the head of Cub’s member, and let his foot “slip” to the side. Cub’s dick bounced, and bumped against the arch of Bear’s shoe; a drop of pre-cum clung to the well-shined leather. Bear feigned frustration in his running commentary. “Damn, I slipped”, he murmured, “Hold my foot, baby. Don’t let me fall.” Bear kept up this monologue as he repeated his efforts to find the errant “rung” with his gently groping foot, always making contact, but never able to put his weight on it before it eluded him. Seeing how Cub was getting off on the texture of the sole of these new shoes, Bear was already wondering how he’d react to a more seasoned pair of boots. He resolved to wear these shoes to work the next day, in an effort to break them in as quickly as possible, and to see how Cub liked the soles of his western boots. It promised to be an…interesting…weekend.

Cub eyes had glazed. Bear realized that his man was no longer completely in this world, but that he had transported himself into a fantasy realm. Cub was breathing heavily, and his naked body was tense, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he ground his hips upward to meet the sole of Bear’s wide shoe. Bear was stroking his own meat, inspired by the sight of his beloved in the throes of passion, further prompted by the excitement of the unknown and thoroughly enjoying the feel of Cub’s hands on his foot and leg, as well as the pulsing member brushing against the sole of his foot.

Cub looked up at Bear, his eyes crazed. “Daddy!!” he cried, “I’m gonna cum! Your big …foot’s…makin’… me…CUM!!” He had been holding Bear’s foot a mere fraction of an inch over the head of his dick, grinding his hips upward so that he head of his dick maintained contact with the sole of Bear’s shoe. Now he gripped Bear’s foot firmly, pressing it against his crotch, the heel of the shoe resting on his balls. Suddenly a bolt of white shot from under the toe of Bear’s shoe and slammed into Cub’s goateed chin. The sight of his man’s orgasm was sufficient to set Bear off; his own dick gathered upon itself and erupted, spewing its bounty over the big man’s chest, as both men bellowed.

It took both men several minutes to regain themselves. Bear gave a bit of a start when he felt Cub gently tap his foot. Damn if he hadn’t nearly fallen asleep with his big foot still resting on Cub’s dick. He gently lifted his foot, and smiled down on his man lying beneath him. Cub reached over, grabbed his discarded dress shirt and started mopping up his chest and chin before remembering it really didn’t belong to him.

“Oh, shit”, he groaned softly. He then looked up at Bear. Jizz was splattered all over the big man’s shirt, and his softening dick was oozing the last of its load onto the leg of his wool trousers. “We’ll have some explaining to do when we return these suits”, Cub pointed out, chuckling softly as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Oh, fuck it”, Bear scoffed, “If they raise too big a stink, I’ll just buy the damn things. Right now, I’m too tired to give a damn.” He tried crossing his legs, but seemed too drained to perform that simple task. He extended a leg and gently nudged Cub’s ribs with his foot. “I’m glad you liked these shoes, baby”, he said wearily, “but they’re getting a little snug. Would you pull them off for me?”

Cub quickly pulled his legs out from under Bear’s chair and sat cross-legged on the floor. He drew Bear’s foot to his lap, untied and loosened the laces and slowly pulled the stiff shoe from his stockinged foot. Before setting the shoe on the floor, Cub brought the opening to his face and inhaled deeply, savoring the warm smell of leather and clean sweat. He did the same with the other shoe, and then set to gently massaging Bear’s warm stockinged feet. Occasionally, he’d bring a foot up to his face, and nuzzle the sole of his man’s big, blocky foot, tickling it with his stiff whiskers and gently nibbling at Bear’s toes. The big man squirmed and chuckled softly. Damn, but I do love this man! They both thought.

“Go fetch my slippers, baby”, Bear sighed, “Daddy’s tired.”

Cub scrambled to his feet, beaming, and dashed up the stairs. In seconds, he was back, carrying Bear’s well-shined opera slippers. He returned to his spot on the floor, gently wrapped a hand behind Bear’s heel and lifted the big man’s foot. Cub lovingly slid the classically-styled slipper onto Bear’s foot and made sure the heel had snugged into the heel counter before giving his man’s foot a loving squeeze and repeating the process with the other foot. Cub then got to his feet and helped Bear up from the chair. After fastening his trousers, Bear threw an arm over Cub’s burly shoulders and drew him near. Cub nestled against the big man’s chest and sighed.

“Let’s go to bed; I’m wrung out”, Bear said softly, his basso voice rumbling in Cub’s ear. Together, they headed for the stairs, but once there, Bear lead the way up.

Half-way up the stairs, the heel of Bear’s left slipper worked itself free of his stockinged foot; the big man seemed not to notice, but after mounting another step, the light shoe slid off his foot completely, landing softly on the carpeted step. Cub pounced on it immediately, like a prospector finding a large nugget of gold. The glove-soft, glossy leather was already warm from Bear’s foot, and Cub lifted the slipper to his lips, the better to feel its texture and warmth.

Bear turned and regarded Cub with a warm, bemused expression. Cub belatedly realized that his man had extended his stockinged foot, awaiting his slipper. Blushing slightly, Cub bent over Bear’s blocky foot, slid the errant slipper back into place, and then kissed Bear’s elegantly clad foot, giving it another squeeze before releasing it. Bear shook his head and chuckled kindly before turning and completing his climb up the stairs, followed by the eager Cub.

How the distaff Cinderella rewarded his burly prince for retrieving the lost slipper is grist for a different story all together.

Fin

Next: Bear finds himself ensnared at work

Posted by Bruin on Saturday, May 08, 2004 (03:11:48) (7038 reads)

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