Being the Bear
UrsusMajr and PapaWereBear
(Note to Reader: This is the sequel to Becoming the Bear. Although the two stories can stand alone, they are linked; some things in this story refer to events and characters in the earlier one. You may wish to read that one first. This is (obviously) a work of fiction, and no real persons or events are depicted. As in our other werebear stories, safe sex practices are not depicted; but in real life, get tested and always play safe.)
Robert crossed to the wall and adjusted the heater controls for the hot tub and dimmed the lights, allowing enough to see by for people unfamiliar with the room but not enough to interfere with the spectacular view of the mountains out the sliding glass doors.
Larry stepped into the hot tub and let out a grunt and a loud sigh as water rose and the heat soaked into his bones. His dark brown fur floated out as he lowered himself in, his cock bobbed on the surface until he sat down. He sported a cock that looked like it was nearly always at half staff. In fact, it was his ball sack that was nearly always snugged up tight below that raised his penis to an angle that suggested arousal. His legs were not especially furry, but his torso was heavily pelted. The long hairs floated this way and that in the water.
“This is better'n sex!” he sighed, closing his eyes.
“Let's not go too far,” Robert laughed.
“Well, perhaps, mon ami; hot water can ease many things, but sex is superior, I think, no?”
Larry opened one eye. René was busily removing his pants. He was less stocky than the average bear, not as thick in the middle, and without the prominent belly most bears had. His cock was wide, with the tip enveloped in thick foreskin. Flaccid, it begged to be sucked. Erect, it was impressive. His body was covered with red-orange fur that was long and straight. The pattern was unusual in that it was so sharply defined. Along his sides, he had no hair, then suddenly it was thick and long on chest and belly. Shoulders were bare, but back and arms were covered. His butt was smooth, but his legs were satyr-like. René had a reputation of being an efficient top as well as an enthusiastic bottom. His family were renowned for being much more than merely satisfactory in the sack.
René stepped into the hot tub. “Shall we test your theory?” Larry opened the other eye, and sat up.
“Come to papa!” Larry leaned toward the French Canadian bear. René stepped down into the hot tub and fed his cock to Larry. Larry teased the tip, then worked his tongue up and down the narrow shaft. He forced his tongue into the ample foreskin, tickling the sensitive place all uncut men have on the underside where the tip joins the shaft. René alternately moaned and rolled his eyes back in his head.
Larry put his arms around René's thighs and drew in close while swallowing his cock to the root. He snuffled and nosed around the standing bear's pubes. The two appeared to have forgotten their earlier disagreements.
“OK. Hot tubs are second best, next to sex!” Larry spoke around the rigid pole in his mouth.
“Now, that's what I call international cooperation!” Boris said, coming down the stairs and looking at the two. He crossed to Robert, who was extracting towels from a cupboard and kissed his friend. He took two large towels and handed them to Walt and Mitch. “Please... you are my guests. Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing towards the tub. “It is not often that we get to entertain so many bears at one time, and Robert and I love to play.”
They stood for a moment, watching Larry and René in their entente cordiale. René was moaning as Larry fingered his asshole. “I thought you said René was a dedicated top,” Mitch whispered to Robert.
“Oh, Larry's just priming the pump. If I know Larry, he's looking forward to a nice long game of sit n' spin on some Frenchie bearmeat.”
“Where are your friends, the big one and the short one?” Boris asked as he disrobed. Boris was a prototypical bear: big, round bellied, and hairy as hell. Over the decades, he'd aged a bit, and thickened more than a little. He carried the weight well. Robert hugged his lover from behind, and Boris wiggled his butt in pleasure.
“I think they're still upstairs,” replied Walt. “Believe it or not, Moose is kinda shy in groups.”
“But I thought you and they had...” Boris looked at Walt, puzzled.
“Oh, yeah, we've played, quite a bit. But it's because we all know each other well by now. Hell, they were living with us for the last few weeks before you called and Moose, Mitch and I knew each other in high school.”
“Not in the Biblical sense, though,” Mitch interjected, “more's the pity!”
Walt kissed his lover and continued, “It's got a lot to do with not knowing you guys, but even more with being aware that they sort of tagged along, uninvited. They know that, and it makes Moose shy, and Rusty a bit defensive. Rusty is very protective toward Moose and vice versa. They sometimes have a real 'us against the world' attitude and that's probably because before they were werebears, they really had no one else. They're not used to having a 'family'.”
“Well, I shall go and talk with them.” Boris turned to the stairs. “They may have been a surprise, but they are our brothers now, they are family and most welcome. They need to feel it as well as know it. They need to know in their gut they can count on us.” The big bear lumbered up the stairs in search of the newest members of the werebear fraternity. Walt watched him go, enjoying the view of the heavily pelted back side of the burly bear. Walt, a true connoisseur of the ursine form, loved the eye candy at these types of gatherings.
Following his lover's gaze Mitch chuckled and said in a stage whisper, "Psssst! Hey,the view's pretty good over here, too!" He nodded in Larry and René's direction.
Mitch, Robert, and Walt got into the hot tub. Larry pulled off of René's erect meat and eyed each of the newcomers. “Damn, and I thought they only bred 'em big in Texas!”
Robert chuckled, and Mitch protested, “Hey I'm not all that big.” Walt leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Yes you are. You're nearly as big as me now, remember?”
Mitch looked down with a pleased smile and fondled his cock. “Yeah, I'd forgotten, I'm so used to...” Mitch stopped with a gasp as Larry fastened his mouth on his thickening penis.
“Sacre merde! He wastes no time, that one!” René laughed out loud. “He has all the finesse of le aspirateur... how you say, the 'vacuum cleaner'? Not that I object.” René's wolfish grin gave his face a whole different look, one of eager lust. He stepped all the way down into the tub and moved behind the standing Larry, nudging his butt with a rigid pole of French Canadian bearmeat. The thick foreskin had retracted enough to see most of the tip.
Robert looked at Walt. “I'm forgetting my duties as a host. No, actually, not a duty at all, a real pleasure.” He reached out and enfolded Walt in a bear hug that quickly became a mutual smooch and grope.
The air was soon filled with happy grunts and slurps. Without actually speaking of it, the five bears seemed to reach a mutual agreement and each changed to half form to continue their play. Each seemed to enjoy playing in this form. Thick musky pelts were fun to stroke and snuffle in; and thick, muscled bodies were fun to hug and roll around with. Paws that retained their human dexterity were handy for probing and stimulating, and nearly fully-formed bear bodies were a true pleasure to look upon. The enhanced humanoid bear form was sexy and masculine. Every man feels the beast within him and being able to express this in this unique way was truly erotic. Not-quite-bear voice boxes and mouths still made it possible to talk and express appreciation for each other, if in gruffer tones, which in themselves added to that erotic beastly mystique.
René had successfully skewered Larry and was methodically tenderizing his ass. Larry stopped hoovering Mitch's cock and looked over his shoulder at René.
“Come on, lay down on the deck, I wanna ride that buckin' meat of yours, you Cnuck fucker.” René obliged, and Larry hopped on board and lowered himself down on the pole and leaned back, driving René as deep as he could go. “Yeeee-HAW!” Larry yelled. The rippling light from the hot tub reflected on their glossy pelts, giving an almost underwater quality to the scene.
Larry would rise a bit and René would surge upwards, driving himself deep into werebear ass. Larry would grunt and sit back down on René's fully-extended cock, making them both growl with pleasure. Each time René's cock hit Larry's prostate, a glob of precum would ooze out of Larry's bearcock, soon glazing the length of his sheath with the sweet stuff.
“All fours, ours, now,” René growled in an urgent tone. Larry pulled up and off the stiff rod embedded in his guts and scrambled to the classic position. René mounted him eagerly from behind, alternately holding tight to his shoulders, and then moving his paws to Larry's hips, pulling him back. He hammered Larry's ass, then eased off and stroked in and out in an almost lazy way, then once again jackhammered. Larry grunted and growled and pushed back hard, meeting René's thrusts with equally forceful ones of his own.
Suddenly, René leaned down and gripped Larry's heaving chest in a bearhug, biting with his short muzzle into Larry's shoulder while he thrust forward hard and fast once, twice, and finally, with a roar around a mouthful of Larry's furry shoulder, a third and final time. Larry trembled and panted and moaned. It was obvious that he was being filled with René's seed. The stubby little tail at the end of René's backbone twitched as he unloaded.
Robert had been fondling Mitch's erect, oozing cock while he smooched and nibbled at Walt's beard. “Let's not waste that, man!” He waggled his rump at Mitch. Walt moved to sit on a bench by the towel cupboard, and spread his furry legs wide. His bear cock was halfway extended from his sheath, and Robert bent over to take it in his mouth, at the same time offering his fur-covered butt to Mitch. Mitch needed no coaxing, and stepped right up to the plate. Earlier, Boris had thoughtfully placed some bottles of lube out on the bench, along with some soft cloths. Mitch coated his cock with the slippery liquid and then put some on his paw, and slicked Robert's ass. He worked a finger in, slicking the inside of the bear's tunnel. He slowly introduced a second finger, and when Robert wiggled and pushed back, began to stretch the muscle ring open.
At Robert's other end, Walt was leaning back, eyes half closed in pleasure. Through the half open slits, he saw his cub getting down to business behind Robert's furry rump. He admired his lover's bear visage. “Damn, you're a handsome cub!”
Mitch growled back. His blush, of course, went unnoticed in all the fur covering his face, but his eyes locked with Walt's, and he shook his head slightly.
“No, you are. My handsome, sturdy, cub. You are.”
Mitch grinned, and Walt said, “My stud fucker bear... go for it. Fill this handsome fucker at one end while I take care of the other.”
With that, Walt put one paw on each side of Robert's ursine head and began to pump his cock into his waiting muzzle. Watching René and Larry's vigorous breeding had raised his own excitement. He was close, and kept the pace slow, controlling Robert's motions with his paws so he could shoot with his cub when he was ready to fill Robert's ass.
Mitch had opened Robert wide enough so he could nose his tip in. He held there for a moment, enjoying the sensations of his first time inside this bear. The thought of how this was familiar but different flickered across his mind. This was friendly play, and a kind of bonding with a fellow were. Both Vic and Walt had explained to him about the kinship links between werebears, and how they encompassed both emotional and sexual bonds. Werebears liked sex, and they especially like sharing sexual play with other werebears. The friendly couplings served a dual purpose. They helped form friendship links between the bears, as well as damp down the natural aggressive instincts that male bears in the wild would feel towards each other.
Inexperienced as he was, still a relatively new werebear, he recognized the fundamental difference in playing with a fellow were and making love with his mate Walt. His brain recognized the pleasurable and playful aspects of this coupling with Robert. His were senses added the subtle olfactory and other sensory cues that would now forever mark this bear as one of his clan or family, one of the 'tribe' of weres, in his mind. But it did not unlock the wellsprings of passion and love that entering Walt did. Those were opened by the unique keys of the sight, feel, taste, and smell of his lover. To the casual observer, there might not be much difference between fucking Robert and fucking Walt; but to Mitch (and to Walt), the difference was profound.
Suddenly, Robert shoved backwards, impaling himself on Mitch. Mitch grunted, then growled and began to pump Robert's eager ass. Excited as he was from watching René and Larry earlier, it didn't take long to reach the critical point. He looked over Robert's head at Walt, who recognized that his cub was ready.
“Go for it, cub! Breed his ass!”
Both bears pressed forward, one in front and one behind. They began filling Robert almost simultaneously, hot spurts of bear seed shooting into the eager bear. Walt's paws held Robert's head, with his meat deep in his throat; while Mitch's paws hung on to his shoulders with his cock deep in his rear. Walt and Mitch growled together, while Robert shuddered in pleasure. When the threesome finally broke apart, Robert flopped over on his back and held out both arms, indicating that Walt and Mitch should join him for a cuddle.
“Damn, that was fine,” Robert sighed. The three bears nuzzled and cooled off, licking, fondling and stroking each other. While they were coming down from the sex-induced high, Boris came down the stairs with Vic, Moose and Rusty in tow. Moose was molesting Boris's ass as they made their way down the stairs to the side of the hot tub. Vic had his arm around Rusty.
“Oh, look... they're all bears!” Rusty said in mock surprise.
“Shall we join them?” Boris asked.
“You bet... and you guys are in for a surprise when you see my Rusty here as a bear.” Moose spoke with obvious loving pride. Rusty blushed.
“I like surprises,” Robert said from amidst the bear pile on the decking.
Slowly, each of the bears began the metamorphosis from man to nearly werebear. Rusty was slowest of all, having the least experience. Moose, having a much easier time of it now, stood next to his lover, encouraging him. Vic and Boris changed to half form quickly. Vic's golden grizzly was nearly a match in size for Boris's salt and pepper grizzly. Both admired each other's pelts and cupped each other's ball sack, rolling the orbs in their pouches. And then a hush fell.
Again, as had happened only a few days ago in the woods, the group fell silent and stared at Rusty. Walt, Mitch, and Vic knew what was coming, of course; but Rusty's radiant, creamy orange-tinged fur was a complete surprise for Boris, Robert, Larry, and René.
“Mon Dieu, c'est incroyable!” René breathed. Robert and Boris both emitted gasps, and Larry stood, open-mouthed.
“What the fuck IS he?” Larry finally managed to choke out.
“He's a Spirit Bear,” Moose said with pride and love.
“A kermode? A true kermode” Boris looked at Vic. Vic nodded.
“He's not a polar, you can tell that by the shape of his face and the ears. And not a white grizzly, you can see there's no muscular hump on the back. One hundred percent black bear. Well, except for the coloring, of course.” Vic stepped over to Rusty and lightly hugged him.
“I wish you'd all stop looking at me,” Rusty growled. Secretly, though, he was enjoying the attention.
“Well, I've never seen anything like it. Weres have a variety of colorations, but I have never seen the like of this.” Boris cocked his head to one side. “ A true Spirit Bear.” Boris gave Rusty a small, courtly bow, which Rusty somewhat clumsily returned. “You are a rarity, sir. I salute you.”
“I'd rather have you fuck me.” Rusty gulped and grinned. “Did I say that out loud?” The rest of the bears roared with laughter.
“Spoken like a true werebear! You will fit in just fine, mon ami.” René said.
René spoke true. Within moments, the bears were nuzzling and fondling each other. Ever the gracious host, Boris complied with Rusty's wish. Generously coating his cock with lube from one of the bottles scattered around the deck, he then poured some on his paw and began working it into Rusty's anus. “Do not worry, my friend. I will go easy. I know I am large. I won't hurt.”
Rusty reached down and tickled Boris's hefty meat. “Oh, I'm not worried. My Norman's a big boy, I've had lots of experience. And I'm were now, so I don't have to worry, right? Besides,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye, “I like it rough. Let's see how that pile driver of yours works!”
Boris grinned evilly, “Rough eh? My Alexander liked it rough too. I'm sure I can give you what you want.”
With that, Rusty assumed the position, and Boris mounted and forced his thick cock in up to the hilt in one stroke. He soon found that Rusty hadn't been kidding. He was obviously a talented bottom, and Boris soon set about the happy task of tenderizing Rusty's tunnel before unloading a huge load of werebear cum in his ass.
“Sukin sin!” The coarse peasant obscenity echoed against the walls and signaled the moment of Boris's climax as he threw back his head, eyes wild, mouth open, uttering growl after growl in a deep basso voice. Rusty shoved back as hard as he could, trying to cram every inch of Boris's substantial cock in his ass.
Boris felt as if his meat was being alternately caressed and squeezed by a muscular velvet glove. Rusty's ass was tight and hot, but the generous glob of lube Boris had worked in made the trip in and out smooth but not too slick. The friction came from his own size and Rusty's talented butt muscles.
The other bears had formed couples or triples and soon the air reeked of the sharpish but not unpleasant tang of bear seed mixed with the odor of chlorine from the hot tub. Moose coated Robert's chest and belly with a glaze of his cum while he sat on the Canadian bear's cock. Vic was vigorously coupling with René, and Larry working his meat in as deep as he could manage into Mitch's butt. Walt was feeding his meat to Larry at the same time. By the time the moon has sunk behind the mountain ridge outside the windows, the bears had all welcomed the new weres into their brotherhood, and had swapped seed and spit in just about all the combinations possible.
“Wooo-EEEE!” Larry sighed, as he sank down on Vic's golden furred belly after sucking off the blond grizzly.
“Formidable!” René gasped as he pulled out of Walt's ass, his cock shiny with the cum of multiple bears. I am le chaud-lapin, and you, mon ami, are maousse, baraque, un beau morceau!”
“What he said,” Mitch managed to get out between wheezing gasps as he finished his bear business inside Boris's salt and pepper furred butt. “You are one hot bear, but I am pooped!”
“You've done yourself proud,” Boris said with a smile as he put his legs down. The bears formed two large piles of fur and padding as they nuzzled and snuggled in post-orgy bliss. Pulses returned to normal and tired bears licked and smooched and gradually came down from the sexual high each had experienced. Soon, the soft sounds of snoring and good night whispers were all that could be heard. Outside, the stars shown brilliantly in an inky back Canadian night sky.
Moose, however, was wakeful. His eyes opened slowly and he looked around the darkened room. The comfortable sounds of light snoring and the occasional grunt as a bear shifted position surrounded him. His head rested against the soft bulk of Boris' belly. He was careful not to disturb the big bear's slumber, but his care was unnecessary. Boris reached a paw over and lightly rubbed one of Moose's nips.
“Well, pleasantly tired, but not sleepy, if that makes sense,” Moose said, reaching over his head and scratching the fur on Boris's ample chest.
“Perfect sense,” Boris rumbled. “Your mate is sound asleep, I think we all wore each other out. He makes a good bear and a nice balance to you.”
“Boris, can I ask you something?”
“Everyone here seems really, ah, 'friendly', if you take my meaning.”
Boris chuckled quietly. “You mean 'sexually generous'? How nice of you not to call us sluts!”
“No offense, but... yeah.”
“Well, you and your mate seemed to fit right in. And I mean no offense in that. It's our way, the werebear way. You're adapting to your new lives. I know, like Walt and Mitch, that you and Rusty are mated. None of our play together interferes with those relationships in any way.” Boris idly scratched his balls. “Werebears aren't sexually jealous, not in the human sense. Friendly play is the way we bond. The kinship links we forge this way take the place of the genetic family bonds of humankind. It builds community among us, brotherhood.”
“Are you mated to Robert?” Moose turned a bit so he could see Boris in the dim light.
“No. We are best friends and have known each other for many, many years. Sexually, we are very compatible, but we're not mates, not as you and Rusty are.” He paused. “Don't forget, we are hybrid creatures, an amalgam of human and ursine qualities. Like our ursine brothers, we can be solitary at times. We don't live in large groups or packs. But we retain many of our human traits, too; and one of those is desiring a mate. That link, once forged, is stronger than iron; and because we live so long, it outlasts many human relationships. If a bear loses his mate, he may decide not search for another, and instead content himself with the company of other weres at holidays and other gatherings. I am like that. So, I suspect, is Vic. We both lost mates.”
Moose was silent for a while, then spoke. “I am sorry for your loss. I know, more than ever, how lucky Rusty and I are to have found each other. But you and Robert seem very happy together, and I know Vic and Walt share a special bond...”
“Ah. Well, no one could replace my Alexander, and Robert knows that and doesn't expect it, if that's what you mean.” Boris smiled “But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the company of my fellow bears” He leaned over and gave Moose a hug and a generous kiss.
“Do you think you will ever have another mate? I mean, even animals that mate for life can find new mates,” Moose said, feeling sad for Boris' loss.
“It is possible, but I don't think so. He would have to be a very special man. Alexander was exceptional.” Boris said.
“Like Rusty.” Moose said.
Boris smiled and it completely hid the ache of his loss, “Yes, young one, like your Rusty. And now, I think this old bear must get some sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.” He looked at Moose in the faint light. “Welcome, brother.” He yawned and then was almost instantly asleep and snoring.
Moose shifted to get comfortable again, and stared at the ceiling, thinking, for a much longer time; but eventually, he, too, fell asleep.