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Ειδήσεις - Bear in a Snare
After a six-month wait, it had finally arrived. Bear stood in his office, admiring his new oak desk, one of the perks awarded him after his recent promotion. The desk substitution had meant packing all his files and belongings into boxes, and while his computer was operational and his file folders were back in place, Bear knew he’d be back this weekend to tidy up the place; he was admittedly anal-retentive when it came to keeping his workspace orderly. He found his framed portrait of Cub in a box and regarded it fondly.
“Wow,” said a familiar light baritone voice, “I am impressed!”
For an insane instant, Bear thought the photo had gained the power of speech; it took a moment for him to realize the voice had come from behind him. He turned around and saw Cub in his blue delivery uniform, his slacks bloused over spit-shined Army boots, standing in the doorway, surveying the office.
Bear beamed, striding toward his partner. “What are you doing here?” he asked, wrapping his arms around his visitor, and hugging him warmly, “I thought you were at work.”
“I am,” chuckled Cub, as he returned the hug, and gave Bear a peck on the cheek. “I had a delivery down on the second floor, and thought I’d stop in to see you. It’s not often I get to see you fresh in your ‘Corporate Drag’.”
While the two men worked what was technically the same shift, their hours were different enough that Cub was usually out the door before Bear was fully dressed, and was back home cooking, as the older executive was still tying up loose ends at the office. By the time he got home, Bear was usually rumpled and tired. Cub had taken the time to study Bear in his crisp shirt and tie, pleated slacks and suspenders before speaking. Damn, but he looks good! Cub had thought, noting that Bear had completed his outfit with the balmoral, cap-toed oxfords he had originally bought for the occasion of the black-tie awards banquet his company had thrown the month before. While they had never gotten to the dinner that evening, the two men had found a way to break in Bear’s new shoes.
“Yeah, well take a good look,” chortled Bear, “With all the stuff I have to put back in place, I’ll be a wreck in no time.”
The comment jogged Cub’s memory and he craned his neck to look past Bear. “You mean it came? This is it?” Bear’s new desk had been the topic of both dinner and breakfast table conversation for the past several days. Bear knew that it was coming, but was frustrated with the maintenance department’s lack of knowledge of when it was coming. Bear was greatly relieved that they appeared, unannounced, with the desk on a day that happened to be free of other commitments.
Bear stepped aside, and proudly swept his arm to encompass the room. “This is it,” he pronounced, “Welcome to my domain.”
Cub stepped into the room, taking in the details of the office. It was actually grander than he had expected, drawing from Bear’s descriptions. Despite the dominance of the new office furniture, Cub’s attention was drawn to a wall display to the right of the massive oak desk. Bear’s past business awards were lined up on no less than two shelves, and were accompanied by framed photographs of the burly man in the company of local dignitaries, including the governor, and a few Senators and State Representatives. Cub’s estimation of Bear’s accomplishments instantly doubled; he had no idea the man ran with such august company. Cub turned back toward Bear with a look that bordered on awe, and was not completely surprised to see the big man fidgeting, obviously embarrassed by the attention awarded his “trinkets”.
Lowering his eyes, Bear ran his thick fingers along the edge of his desk. “So...uh…what do you think?” he said, hoping to divert Cub’s attention.
Cub took the hint, and shifted gears, taking in the fine, solid-wood desk. “Oh, wow…,” he breathed, “That is…awesome!” It wasn’t hyperbole; the younger man had never seen a more impressive piece of furniture. The desk was wide enough to accommodate two men. It radiated an aura of importance, power and success; it was an unspoken pronouncement of masculinity. In short, it had Bear’s name all over it. The big man glided around the desk, took his place in the large, leather chair that came with it and beamed like a kid on Christmas morning. Cub locked this image in his mind, and wished desperately that he had a camera with him, the better to preserve this moment.
“You look great,” Cub pronounced, and knew that the compliment fell far short of the pride he felt toward his man. He crossed the room to Bear’s side and placed his hand on the big man’s broad shoulder. He bent down, and kissed Bear on the lips. “I am so proud of you!” Already, Cub was thinking of various ways to show Bear just how proud he was, once he got the man alone at home.
Bear stretched luxuriously in his chair, drawing his arms up over his head, and sighed contentedly. “Yup,” he joked, “I’m living large.” His foot brushed against something, and a bundle of cables, dislodged from a niche under the desktop, fell in a heap on Bear’s feet.
Bear pulled his legs out from under his desk, and peered below. “Gosh dang it,” he grumbled, “Those guys got my PC plugged in and working, but they just crammed everything under there. It’s a freakin’ snake pit.” Such untidiness rankled Bear no end; he’d have to buy some zip strips and maybe some cable trays to bundle the cables together and guide them to where they wouldn’t be underfoot. It would be part of his weekend clean-up. In the meantime, he’d just have to deal. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as he channeled his frustrations into more productive energies. He swung his legs back under his desk, kicking the cables out of the way. One continued to brush against his foot, but he’d deal with it later.
“Will you be available for lunch?” Bear asked Cub, “My treat.”
“Oooohhh…,” said Cub, feigning concern, “Are you sure you can afford it?”
Bear leaned back in his chair, throwing his arms out expansively to include his office, “Are you kidding?” he smiled, “I’m a freaking captain of industry!” He started to rise from his chair, but stopped abruptly, kicking lightly at something under his desk with his left leg.
“What’s wrong?” asked Cub.
Bear’s face was reddening, not only from embarrassment, but also from frustration. “My foot’s caught,” he confessed. “A cable’s gotten looped around my ankle, and I can’t kick out of it.” By now, he had brought his right foot to bear, scraping the edge of the shoe’s sole against his ankle, hoping to dislodge the errant cable with it.
Cub peered under the desk. Following Bear’s leg, he saw a thin cable running around the man’s thick ankle. It was twisted loosely around itself, but had created a loop through which Bear’s well-shined shoe had obviously slid, snagging behind his heel. The moment Bear had tried to bring his foot back out from under the desk, the cable had slid upward, the loop tightened and had effectively ensnared the man.
Cub dropped to his knees, and crawled under the desk. While burly, Cub’s smaller stature made this fairly easy; Bear would have a harder time fitting in the space when he came back to “tidy up”. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the comparative darkness, before moving forward. Bear was now sitting quietly, rather than risk kicking Cub in his attempts to free himself, and the smaller man took another moment to assess the situation….or at least, that was going to be his Official Story.
He was, in fact, enjoying the view. Cub always liked the way Bear dressed, especially in his choice of slacks, socks and shoes, and today was no exception. Bear’s ribbed dress socks nicely accented his beefy calves and thick ankles, and the style of his shoes highlighted his foot’s proportions nicely. Even after being broken in with a month’s wear, Bear kept his shoes so well maintained, you’d think he had bought them that day. Bear shifted his foot slightly, and Cub admired how the light played off the smooth polished leather. The younger man reached out and gently caressed the big man’s foot. He looked up at Bear and grinned wickedly, but Bear’s cocked eyebrow gave a warning: Not here; not now. Cub’s shoe/boot fetish had introduced Bear to the idea of foot-play as a method of sexual congress and the older man had warmed up to the concept instantly. They had, in fact, turned it into a regular facet of their sex lives, but Bear was right; his office, in the middle of the work-day was hardly the time and place for such a session. Cub sighed, and reached for the cable. He was filing this situation away, though, and would find a way to incorporate this situation into a sexual scenario at home in the near future.
Just then there was a light tap on the door. Cub heard the door open, and a male voice say, “Ah, there you are,” as someone stepped into the room. Cub started to back out from under the desk, when he felt Bear’s large hand on his backside, firmly shoving him back downward. What the fuck? Cub thought. He found that if he ducked his head, he could sit, cross-legged under the desk. He turned and glowered at Bear, who seemed to be pointedly ignoring him.
Bear’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he was fighting panic. His boss, Harold Foster, the man who had recommended him for this promotion, who had pulled strings to arrange for the purchase of this desk, the man after whom Bear had modeled his career, had just stepped into his office while a deliveryman was crouched under his desk. Part of his mind knew that the situation was completely harmless; his foot was caught, and Cub was simply there to free him, but Mr. Foster was not known for his sense of humor, and had no tolerance for any hint of scandal within his company. While Bear’s situation was far from scandalous, if Cub were discovered, he knew he’d be a marked man in Foster’s eyes from this day forward. At his age, Bear knew he couldn’t afford such a career-killing blunder.
“I see your desk has finally arrived,” Foster acknowledged, “How are you finding it?”
Bear cleared his throat, buying a second’s time to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack. “Fine, sir,” he managed, “Once again, I’m grateful for your helping me procure it.” He kicked his left foot against the snare, hoping desperately that Cub would pick up the cue and free him, in case he’d have to stand.
Fortunately, Foster was in a casual mood, and failed to notice Bear’s minor breach of manners. “You earned it,” he said, brushing off Bear’s praise. Then, to Bear’s horror, the man started strolling around the office, complimenting the decor; this was going to be an extended visit! He chanced a glance under his desk, and was met with a petulant glare from Cub, who was obviously put out for being so badly used. Bear turned a palm upward to shrug what do you want from me? before pointing urgently at his trapped foot. Cub snorted derisively and turned his head: Fuck off, ‘captain of industry’! Bear pasted what he hoped was a benign look on his face as Foster turned back to him.
“Well,” said Foster, “Now that you seem to be settled in, there’s an item with the Hallstead account I’d like to discuss.” Bear’s heart sank, as Foster settled into a chair across from his desk. The Hallstead affair was one of the company’s largest and most complex accounts. Discussing a single item could take hours.
Bear felt something brush against his foot; he glanced down and saw that Cub was now laying on his side, with his head propped up, fiddling with Bear’s shoe lace. Bear reached for his files on the Hallstead account, and “accidentally” dropped a page. As he bent down to scoop it up, he risked a whispered, “Take off my shoe” to Cub. He hoped that, with his shoe off, the cable would easily slide off his stockinged foot.
As the two businessmen droned on about the account, Cub took his time loosening Bear’s shoelace. Not only was the younger man put out with his partner, but he was upset with himself for playing along with this came of “hide & seek” and quickly growing bored. Still… the area under the desk was surprisingly roomy, and given his weakness for Bear’s footwear, the view wasn’t bad… Cub decided he’d have some fun while he was down here.
The young man positioned himself closer to Bear’s foot and gently took it on both hands. Bear assumed that this meant that Cub was ready to pull his shoe off, and attempted to raise his foot to accommodate the action, but Cub gripped his foot more tightly and held it in place. Cub smiled as he heard the smooth cadence of Bear’s bass voice stumble in mild surprise.
What the fuck is that idiot doing under there? Bear thought as he fought for composure. He tried kicking his foot free of Cub’s grasp, but the young man held it fast. Bear contemplated using his right foot to deliver a swift clout to the young man’s head, but knew that Cub would trump him by letting out a theatrical bellow that would draw Foster’s attention and wrath. Then he felt Cub’s mouth, nuzzling his foot. Against all rational thought, Bear’s dick twitched. Oh, my fucking GAWD! Bear’s mind screamed. The mental cry was borne of both horror and lust, as Cub had just breached one of Bear’s main defenses; in the past several months, Cub had turned the big man’s feet into an extremely sensitive erogenous zone. Up until this instant, the two men had limited their sexual play to in-home sessions; now Cub had not only stretched the boundaries, he was dragging Bear into a minefield. With his foot trapped, Bear could only pray he would survive the ride. As Cub’s hand slid up under Bear’s pant leg to fondle his calf, the big man felt a bead of sweat form at his temple, and had to shift in his chair to accommodate his stiffening dick. With a casualness he did not feel, Bear brushed the sweat away as he fought to maintain his train of thought while reviewing the last quarter’s earnings with Foster.
Cub knew that he was taking a risk, playing with Bear in this venue, but the big man’s feet were such a tempting target, he couldn’t resist. The trick was to bring the big man along slowly; if he went too quickly, Bear wouldn’t be able to compensate and would give the game away, but he couldn’t go so slowly that Bear regained complete control of himself and lose interest. Cub rolled over onto his belly. His own dick was rock-hard and the sight of Bear’s well-shod foot straining against its bond was too sweet to pass up. Cub fished a handkerchief out of his back pocket, and spread it out on the floor under him. He then unzipped his fly, pulled out his raging meat and proceeded to jack-off onto his handkerchief, as he watched Bear’s foot gently flex, turn, and shift in its vain attempts at freedom.
For a moment, Bear thought he had a chance. He slid his foot forward, and got some slack in the cord; he felt it slide down his ankle to the heel of his shoe. If he could just get it past his heel…. He brought his right foot over, in an attempt to push the cord further downward. Cub blocked Bear’s foot with one hand, as he reached up and deftly snapped the cable upward with the other, drawing the cable back up to the big man’s beefy ankle, and snugged it tighter. Bear shot a withering glance down at Cub, then did a double-take as he realized that Cub had shoved his pants down to his thighs, exposing his fuzzy backside as he dry-humped the floor. Mentally, Bear’s jaw dropped; a deliveryman under his desk would be hard enough to explain – a half-naked deliveryman would be utterly impossible, and a visibly aroused half-naked deliveryman…well, Bear prepared to kiss his career good-bye. He squeezed his eyes shut, cast an earnest, if inarticulate prayer heavenward, and attempted to address Foster’s latest question.
Foster seemed satisfied with Bear’s responses, which from the big man’s perspective was nothing short of miraculous; he was amazed he could carry on a coherent conversation, much less explain the subtle nuances of this account. The bad news was that Foster showed no signs of leaving. He sat back in his chair and started what Bear recognized as the beginnings of a long-winded tale peppered with arcane detail and a few over-wrought attempts at humor. Foster was fond of telling this story to anyone who would listen; unfortunately, he had no memory of whom he had told it to previously. By his count, this would be the fifth time Bear had heard it. The big man started to relax a bit; if not for Cub under his desk, he would’ve gone into mental cruise control. He was further relieved to feel Cub picking at this shoe laces, loosening them. If the young man kept quiet, Bear could then slip out of his shoe, get loose of the snare, and step back into his shoe while Foster droned on and on, none the wiser.
Bear felt a gentle tap on his foot and glanced downward. Cub gave him a sign to lift his foot. About fucking time! He leaned back in his chair and let his left foot drift upward. Cub gripped Bear’s shoe behind the heel and gently worked it free, then slid it off the big man’s beefy foot. Bear felt cool air caress his stockinged foot while Cub laid the well-shined shoe to one side. The big man started to pull his foot back, to test if he was free of the cable, when Cub snagged his foot and shoved it roughly upward. Bear’s knee slammed into the underside of his desk.
“Augh!” barked Bear, as much from surprise as pain.
“Something wrong?” inquired Foster, with a mix of concern and annoyance. He was not accustomed to being interrupted.
“Uh…no, sir,” Bear responded, shooting a glance at Cub designed to reduce concrete to rubble, “Just banged my knee while crossing my legs. This new desk doesn’t have as much legroom as I thought.” Try as he might, he could not kick free of Cub’s grip. Worse, the young man had rolled over onto his back, while holding Bear’s foot suspended above the floor. What is that little shit up to, now? thought Bear, as he tried to at least look like he was listening to Foster’s saga.
Cub pushed himself along the floor until his face was directly under Bear’s foot, then he guided it downward until the sole of the big man’s foot was brushing against his lips. The young man luxuriated in the subtle odor of leather mixed with musk, as well as the slight dampness of Bear’s dress sock. Cub then rolled his head side-to-side, letting his stiff, wiry moustache brush against Bear’s foot. He smiled as he felt Bear’s leg jerk spasmodically; he knew the big man’s weaknesses.
Bear stiffened as if he had received an electrical shock. NO!! No TICKLING!! This he could not endure. He pulled at his foot in desperation, but Cub had too strong a grip, the cable offered no slack, and he had no room to lift his leg. Bear gripped the arms of his chair so fiercely he imagined he could feel the wood fibers compacting, sweat broke out on his brow and he felt his face freeze in a rictus grin. With this new onslaught, Bear’s dick, which had softened a tad with the end of the Hallstead presentation, grew utterly ridged, demanding release.
Cub was enjoying himself immensely at Bear’s expense. Not only was the big guy completely at his mercy, he found the situation incredibly sexy. Bear’s beefy foot was trapped, writhing and shifting against the young man’s face as Cub caressed, stroked and nibbled. While Cub had not heard Foster’s story before, he remembered Bear commenting on it and had a feel for the general outline. He knew that the odyssey ended with what the executive thought was a terribly clever punch line; the trick would be to have Bear and the story end at the same time.
Bear was going out of his mind, and Cub was unrelenting. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to kick and roll around, and all he could do was sit, and try to hold back the explosion he felt was building. Cub was ceaseless in his gentle attack of Bear’s sensitive foot; first the arch, then the ball of his foot, he then felt the young man nibbling at his toes. Bear nearly swooned, yet was snapped back as Foster slapped the desk to augment a point in his story. Bear’s dick was rock hard and oozing pre-cum. Bear didn’t dare chance adjusting himself; if he touched himself at all he knew he wouldn’t be able to control the impulse to masturbate. Even shifting in his chair was proving to be dicey; the subtle brushing of his clothing threatened to set off a violent orgasm. Gosh dang it, why wouldn’t this old fossil leave? Cub’s moustache poked through his sock once more and Bear could not suppress a whimper.
“Yes,” said Foster, misinterpreting Bear’s grimace for one of sympathy. He leaned toward Bear to deliver his punch line, “The poor bastard then slipped on a piece of moss and twisted his ankle! He was out of commission for two weeks!” Foster pounded the desktop and roared with laughter.
The unintended and subtle reference to how Cub and Bear met tore down the last remnant of Bear’s reserve. Without any further stimulation, Bear’s cock gathered on itself and spewed its load as the big man gently convulsed, his face crimson. Bear heaved and gasped, riding the crest of his orgasm, hoping he’d regain himself before Foster noticed anything amiss. To his undying gratitude, he felt Cub release his grip on his foot. It swung back freely from under the desk as Foster rose from his chair.
“Well, enjoy your new desk, son, you’ve earned it,” said Foster, extending his hand across the desk.
Bear rose to shake his superior’s hand, while deftly picking up a file folder to block Foster’s view of any incriminating stain that might be seeping through his trousers.
“Thank you, sir,” Bear managed, hoping his voice sounded steadier than his knees felt. He didn’t really start breathing until Foster left, closing the door behind him. Bear fell into his chair and let out a long, shaky sigh. He realized that he was trembling. He couldn’t decide if it was from relief at not being caught, or from fear of knowing how close he had come to destroying his career. His attention and emotions shifted as Cub stuck his head out from under the desk.
“Some ride, huh?” the young man asked, smirking, Bear’s shoe in hand.
“What took you so long?” Bear demanded, “Was that cable that hard to get off?”
“Oh, I got you out of the cable at the same time I took off your shoe,” Cub revealed, “You could’ve gotten free of my tickle-fest any time you wanted to; you merely thought your foot was trapped.” The young man raised an eyebrow archly. “Of course, you didn’t really put up much of a fight. Could it be you didn’t want to get away?”
Bear snatched the shoe from Cub, and nearly clubbed him with it. He couldn’t remember when he had been so angry.
“Are you out of your gosh darn mind?” Bear demanded. He threw the shoe to the floor, and jammed his foot into it. He was glad to see the younger man flinch. “You could’ve cost me my job, and gotten us both arrested. I’d have been ruined!” He found he couldn’t sit, and had to pace to burn off the energy he had built up. For his part, Cub had the good sense to stay on the floor, his legs still under the desk, and kept quiet until Bear had regained his composure.
Gosh dang it, the kid was right, Bear allowed; a part of him did enjoy the session, far more than a responsible, career-minded fellow had a right to. What was it about his association with this sexy young man that made Bear throw caution and common sense to the wind?
It was several minutes before Bear found that he could sit down again, and a few more before he could bring himself to look at Cub without snorting derision. He was glad to see that the younger man looked mollified.
“What now?” asked Cub, softly? “Do you want me to move out?”
“No,” said Bear with a certainty that Cub found assuring, “but I definitely don’t want you pulling a stunt like this again! What am I going to do with you?” The older man swept his massive hands outward, indicating his cum-stained slacks, “Look at me! I can’t leave this room looking like this! What am I going to do?”
“Not a problem,” said Cub, happy for an opportunity to get back in Bear’s good graces, “I can jet to the house, pick up a clean set of slacks and briefs and be back here within 45 minutes.”
Bear pondered this for a moment. “Sounds like a plan,” he allowed. He cocked an eyebrow and nailed Cub to the spot with a glare. “Don’t think for a second that this lets you off the hook; you have a lot of making up to do…and I am no less devious than you.”
Cub swallowed hard, and started to crawl out from under the desk. Suddenly, he stopped short, and tugged gently at his right leg; a cable had looped around his booted ankle, snaring his foot. Cub tried turning his foot and rotating his ankle, but his was caught fast. He sagged with frustration, and looked up at Bear pitifully.
“You will not believe this,” the young man groaned.
Bear leaned back in his chair. A wicked smile grew across his face. “Pay-back’s a bitch, boy,” he said, letting his voice rumble in his chest like a gathering storm. The look of horror mingled with lust across Cub’s face was priceless.
Αποστολέας Bruin στις , 01 @ 08:34:57 EDT (6333 το έχουν διαβάσει)
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Shout it Out
choochoo68: HA "keep it simple" right
07-May-2012 20:01:35 Bruin: Wow...it's finally happening! Read "Bear With Me"
24-Apr-2012 00:15:58 Bruin: Andy & Paul pay a long over-due visit. Read "Bear With Me"
16-Apr-2012 11:13:24 Bruin: The guys are fans of Paul's Elizabethan look. Read "Bear With Me"
27-Mar-2012 04:34:57 Bruin: Lamont decks out Paul like a king. That should be a good thing, right? Read "Bear With Me"
19-Mar-2012 04:45:32 Bruin: Is Cabot over-reaching? Read "Bear With Me"
12-Mar-2012 11:16:05 Bruin: Cabot and Lamont make nice for Andy. Read "Bear With Me"
05-Mar-2012 23:59:25 Brianbear: Why do I have the feeling that they have a "history" ;?
26-Feb-2012 08:30:13 choochoo68: funny...he doesn't LOOK much like mr. french lol
21-Feb-2012 05:38:45 Brianbear: I think his karma just ran over his dogma
29-Jan-2012 02:39:22
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