Mack

by

PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr

(This is a work of fiction, depicting sex between consenting adult males. If such offends you or is illegal for you to read where you live, or you are under the age of eighteen, please leave now. No actual persons or events are depicted. Safe sexual practices are not used, but remember, this is fiction; in real life, get tested and play safe. We hope you enjoy the story. We can be contacted at PapaWereBear69@yahoo.com and UrsusMajr@makaw.net )

Chapter 3

On the third day of his journey, as he was napping with his earphones plugged into his iPod, Mack was dreaming. He was sitting at his computer and exploring a new system he'd hacked into. He'd always had a fascination for computer networks and systems design. It was almost like he could feel how a programmer had constructed a system. He was just at the point of understanding where this particular programmer had concealed his back doors when he felt someone sit in the seat next to him. He opened his eyes to see an incredibly large broad-shouldered man adjusting the seat next to his. This made Mack a bit nervous; the man not only was really large, he was dressed in kind of worn clothes and Mack wondered if some bum had scraped enough money together to buy a bus ticket. Mack, up until this point, hadn't had another passenger sit next to him and was not too pleased to have one now.

The bus had been empty enough so that people were spread out, but as Mack looked around he noticed the bus was now close to full. The last stop that he remembered was somewhere in north Alabama; this stop was in St. Louis, Missouri.

Mack was sizing up the new passengers, always careful to look for potential trouble, when his thoughts were interrupted.

"Mornin'!" the huge man next to him said and extended what could only be called a 'paw' due to it's size and the amount of hair on the back of it, "The name's Sam, Sam Adams, just like the beer!" The man laughed; his green-gray eyes even in the dim light of the bus twinkling merrily.

"Or President John Adams cousin, right?" Mack said, carefully taking the proffered hand. Sam's huge warm paw closed over Mack's hand enveloping it. Mack noticed a slight musky scent from Sam, not like he hadn't bathed in a week, but certainly like he hadn't bathed this morning. Mack's nose was far from offended; he liked men, real men, and male scent was part of that. Still, Sam had a sort of 'animal' smell about him and Mack guessed that he might have spent a couple of nights outside, sleeping with a friendly mutt for warmth.

"Right! Hey, you're a pretty smart! Yep, that Sam Adams was also a Governor of Massachusetts." Sam said with a deep chuckle. "How do you know so much about early American history?" Sam asked.

Mack smiled, "I paid attention in history class when we studied the Revolutionary War."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, they teach you a bit about the Revolutionary War, don't they?" He said and got a far away look in his eye for a moment. Sam sort of shook his head and came back from wherever he'd wandered in his thoughts.

"It's not many young men that pay attention to what they're being taught. You can learn a lot from history if you're paying attention. Trust me, I know." Sam said.

Sam's voice was pleasantly low and Mack though rather sexy, like Barry White if Barry White sounded like a big hairy white guy. The sound of his voice and the sincere and open manner he had was starting to turn Mack on.

Then there were his looks; his bushy brown beard hung down to his belly. His hair was long, down to his lower back and braided. He wore a black leather Oakland Raiders baseball cap and a black leather jacket that looked like it was at least as old as Mack was and as worn as his boots. His red and black plaid flannel shirt was so old it was threadbare and the colors had faded to a dark shade of pink and gray, but it looked warm and comfortable over his new black T-shirt. His jeans were faded, had holes in them and were tucked into his well-worn black engineer boots. The boots were scuffed but looked like they'd been resoled recently. Mack knew that good pair of boots to some men was like a good friend with which you wouldn't want to part. Sam's boots looked like tough old friends he'd known for decades.

Sam seemed to like to talk and it was odd, but Mack wanted to talk too, even though most of the time he wasn't much for conversation. Sam had a way about him that seemed to draw you into conversation. Part of it was that Sam didn't treat him like a kid who didn't know anything, like most men did when talking to someone just out of their teens. As the minutes stretched into a half-hour and a half-hour stretched into two hours, Sam talked quietly to Mack about everything from ancient history before the rise of Rome to the latest metal bands. Mack was surprised that a middle aged man who looked like Sam did would know so much about the tunes he was listening to or about computers or anything about pop culture.

Mack was amazed at all that Sam knew. He realized that Sam was not one of those guys who were stuck in his high school 'glory days', he wasn't like those men who bemoaned the passing of their football careers. The men who were living as if their senior year never ended, listening almost exclusively to the music that was the theme song of their late teens and early twenties.

Sam was savvy about many things. He wasn't 'hip'; indeed, if he tried to be like someone of Mack's age, it would look silly on Sam. What Sam was, was cool. He didn't just skim the surface on topics, he knew about them on deeper levels and that applied to the 'latest' things guys of Mack's age were into.

Sam had a really friendly way about him that was quickly winning Mack over. Despite his size and unapproachable looks, he made Mack feel comfortable and on top of all of that, Sam looked like a big, shaggy, shabby, teddy bear; at least he did now that Mack had gotten to know him.

Mack was yawning, it was 2 a.m. and Sam picked up on the young man's sleepiness. He suggested that it might be a good idea to stretch out as much as possible and catch some sleep. Sam adjusted his own seat and from the pocket of his jacket he pulled a paperback sci-fi novel.

"I'll just read for a bit." He said to Mack as he turned on an overhead light, "I'll wake you when we get to a food stop."

"Thanks!" Mack said though a yawn. He pulled his coat up to his neck, leaned back and put the earphones back in; soon he was asleep.

When Mack awoke he found he was leaning against Sam with his head against the big man's shoulder. His headphones were out and blaring music; he must have removed them in his sleep. Mack was embarrassed at his position and wanted to see if Sam was awake. He carefully turned his head so he could look up at Sam's face. Mack could barely see Sam's face through the bushy beard, but he managed to and fortunately, Sam was sleeping soundly. Mack was spared the embarrassment of explaining why he was 'cuddled up' to the big man. Sam with his book in his lap didn't stir when Mack lifted his head from the shoulder he was leaning on. He checked his watch, it was 5 a.m. and the bus was still on the road. Sam didn't acgtually snore, but his deep breathing had a little volume, like a kind of white noise; Mack found the steady rhythm and sound level comforting. Mack made himself comfortable in his seat, leaning against the window with his head propped with his jacket. He put the headphones back in and returned to dreaming.

It was 6:30 when Mack next woke; someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, Sam was saying something but he didn't catch it over the Brand New Sin playing in his ears. He turned the music off and said "What?"

Sam smiled through his bushy beard and mustache, "I said, we're at a rest stop, you wanna get somthin' ta eat?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Mack said. He was a bit groggy and had morning wood he didn't want Sam to see, but thought that perhaps Sam might have anyway. Being that his coat, which usually covered his torso and lap, was being used for a pillow he guessed his erection might have been very visible to the bearish man.

"Well come on, we've only got an hour an' a half." Sam said in his deep resonant voice and began to get up.

"OK, I wanna put a couple of things away and then I'll be right there." Mack said.

Sam grunted in agreement, looked at Mack's lap and chuckled. "Yeah, put stuff away." Then he winked. He got up and proceeded down the aisle.

Mack needed a few minutes to adjust his cock so it wasn't obvious he was hard and to allow his embarrassed flush to disappear. He also needed to piss and thought it best to take care of that in the bus restroom.

Five minutes later Mack was off the bus and looking around. It was a small Midwestern town, he wasn't sure where and didn't much care. Most towns in the Midwest looked the same and had just about the same kinds of businesses. There was a diner across the street from the small bus terminal. He could see through the windows that Sam was inside the terminal using a cell phone.

Mack's stomach growled and he decided to try the diner where many of the passengers had already gone.

The place was called Joe's Diner, just like in all the old cartoons there was "Eat at Joe's" underneath the name. The place had a retro 50s feel to it, but Mack realized that the retro in this instance was more like original to the business, and not an attempt at nostalgia. It did look like the place had perhaps been spruced up within the last few years or so. Mack walked in and was shown to a booth. Not more than two minutes later Sam came in. Mack saw him come through the door and got his first good estimate at Sam's size; Sam almost filled the diner's chrome and glass door. Mack guessed Sam to be about six and a half feet tall as the door was probably a little under seven and Sam was a few inches under the top of the frame. Sam's shoulders must have been about three feet across because there wasn't much room on either side for the bearish man to get through. Sam ambled in with an easy unhurried gait and sat across from Mack just as the waitress arrived.

She pulled another menu from a nearby empty table and asked, "You fellas together or on separate tickets?"

Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, separate tickets. Could you bring me some coffee, strong an' black? How strong is the coffee?" Sam asked.

"We got two pots, one is for most folks and the other is strong enough to peel paint; it's for the truckers. Which would you like?"

"Give me the paint remover, please." Sam said and chuckled.

"And what would you like?" the waitress asked Mack.

"Coffee, cream and sugar please," Mack said. "…and not from the paint remover pot, please."

The waitress smiled. "I'll give you fellas a moment or two to look over the menu and I'll be back with the coffee."

They both looked over the menu; Sam grunted here and there as he looked over the choices for breakfast. Mack decided on pancakes, bacon and eggs almost immediately. It took Sam a moment or two longer and then he put down the menu. About that time the waitress arrived with the coffee.

"Are you ready to order?" She asked.

Sam indicated that Mack should go first and Mack placed his order.

"And what would you like, sir?" the waitress asked Sam.

"I'll have the five stack pancake breakfast with a double side of sausage an' I'd also like the hash browns, eggs an' bacon breakfast." Sam paused and smiled.

"Is there anything else you'd like?" the waitress asked and Mack could tell that she wasn't surprised that Sam was ordering two breakfasts. Men Sam's size probably did that on occasion.

"Yeah, I'd like the apple pie ala mode after, double scoop of French vanilla and whipped cream." Sam said and looked across the table at Mack with that same self-satisfied grin as if to say, 'Yeah, I can eat it all, you just wait and see.'

The waitress took the menus and left.

"Ya gotta put a lot of gas in the tank when you're as big as I am." Sam said to Mack and sipped his coffee.

"I guess so." Mack said, smiling.

"Well, a bear like me has'ta think about winter." Sam said and winked, which made Mack laugh.

Before the meal arrived, Sam asked Mack where he was headed and Mack explained that he was going out to California to stay with his uncle. Mack then asked Sam where he was headed, if he didn't mind.

Sam chuckled, "I'm headed as far as Flagstaff, then I'm on my hawg out to California too. If you'd like, I've got room on the back of it for you."

"Well," Mack paused but thought fast, "I don't know. Maybe." Mack barely knew this hulking bear. Sam, watching his face, could read the young man's thoughts.

'He's smart to be cautious, not all young'uns are,' Sam thought. "Tell ya what. If you don't trust me by Flagstaff, then you just stay on the bus," Sam said.

Before Mack could answer the food arrived.

Mack was truly amazed at just how much food arrived. His own plate, he could tell, was going to stuff him. Sam's plates would have fed Mack four times.

Sam grunted in pleasure as he dug into his meal and commented more than a few times on how good the food was.

"If y'ever have a question about how good the food is at a restaurant, jus' look to see who's eating there. If there's truckers an' bikers eatin' there, you can be pretty sure it's good food, at good prices with generous portions." Sam said and took another bite of pancakes.

Mack nodded and agreed. The food really was good.

The time was getting close to when they would have to board the bus again, but Sam was finished, pie and all, before Mack was.

The checks came and Sam pulled out a fat wallet attached to a chain from his back pocket. Mack and Sam both left a generous tip and paid for their meals at the cashier's station.

The bus was boarding and before they got on Sam turned to Mack and said quietly, "Look, I'm gonna make a promise to you."

Mack was somewhat surprised that Sam would do such a personal thing with someone he'd known less than a day.

"As long as I'm traveling with you, I promise you'll be safe." Sam said.

They boarded the bus and took their seats.

Sam pulled out his book and began to read; Mack interrupted him. "Why did you promise to protect me?"

Sam smiled, "Because, you remind me of someone I know, someone I met when he was about your age; someone I care a whole lot about. I know you don't know me, but I swear I'd never harm you Mack, you have my word on that."

Sam went back to reading his book, leaving Mack to ponder their exchange. Mack rubbed his cheeks, rubbing the soft stubble of a young beard on his face gave him a certain sense of pleasure. He played a little with his goatee as he listened to some more music and looked out the window at the mostly uninteresting scenery as it rolled by.