Date: Fri, 28 Apr 2023 18:01:27 +0000 (UTC) From: Sloan Cosgrove Subject: Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear: Chapter 16 "Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" is the sequel to "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear," a novel originally published online in 2001 and currently available at: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/sloan-cosgrove/ Feel free to email me at thefratbear@yahoo.com if you'd like to connect or if you'd like me to send you a copy of the complete "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear" in handy PDF format. Please note that my old excite.com email address no longer works. You can also follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/thefratbear ****** "Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" by fratbear (thefratbear@yahoo.com) Chapter 16: That's A Wrap "Are you going to the afterparty at Troy's house?" The voice had a distinct Southern accent. I turned to see a drop-dead gorgeous chubby bear standing behind me. He looked like he was maybe a few years older than me, in his late 20s, with neatly trimmed sandy brown hair and a beard that covered the lower half of his face and extended into a neckbeard. He was wearing a too-small Christmas sweater that tightly hugged his burly torso. He had piercing blue eyes and a hang-dog expression that made him look perpetually perplexed. I was the one who was currently perplexed, though, because even though he was speaking to me as if we were friends, I didn't recognize him at all. Looking at him, though, I certainly wanted to learn who he was. It was a Saturday night on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood, and CUB had wrapped production the night before. Tonight, the crew of our little gay indie film were having an impromptu wrap party at this country-western bar on the Strip, the type of bar with a mechanical bull that you couldn't pay me to get on but seemed popular with drunk young blonde women wearing cowboy hats. The bar was loud, and since it was also packed with the usual Saturday night Los Angeles bar crowd, I was starting to get anxious and had been considering taking off and going home and seeing if my roommate Gabe wanted a blowjob. I had stayed because Troy, one of the wealthy producers of CUB, was buying rounds of drinks for everybody who worked on the movie. At least it finally gave me an excuse to just sit and chat with Jesse and the other grips after having had two orgies with them during the production of the movie. I learned that Hector was bisexual and was actually married to a woman. Jacob told me the whole story of his childhood in Tel Aviv and how he moved to the U.S. because he wanted to work in movies. I found out that the other Sloan had even more in common with me than our name; he'd also been an offensive lineman in college but had quit early, although he'd quit because of an injury instead of homophobia. Most interesting was Jesse, whom I learned was actually Canadian, starting his career as a grip on productions in Toronto before moving to Los Angeles and working his way up to a key grip position on several T.V. productions and low-budget movies. I already knew he was a competitive powerlifter, but now he also revealed that he was an avid skateboarder and snowboarder. Most surprisingly, Jesse was also a trained singer; apparently his massive chest made him an ideal baritone. Clearly, if this film crew career ever fell apart for him, he had several options. Sadly, neither of the stars of the movie, Chuck and Tommy, had shown up to the wrap party. We'd heard that Tommy had to fly out to the East Coast to shoot a commercial, and Chuck had decided to go with him. There were rumors that they were a couple now, which was causing consternation among the producers. When it came time to promote the movie, it would certainly look weird if it became known that the actors playing the father and son were fucking regularly. Without Chuck there, and with the grips starting to leave the party, I was getting ready to head home when this adorable, bearded bear walked up behind me to ask if I was going to some afterparty at the producer Troy's house, and suddenly I had a reason to stay at this party a little longer. "No one told me about an afterparty," I replied. "Well, that's not right." The bear squinted his eyes, making him look even more perplexed. "Well, consider this your invitation." He held out his hand. "I'm Kirk." I was momentarily confused, not recognizing the name. Then it hit me. Kirk Robinson. The screenwriter of CUB. The guy whom the movie was about. He'd never visited the set of the movie while we were in production, and so up until this moment I had no idea what he even looked like. The only image I had of him was the actor Chuck, who as it turned out looked nothing like the real Kirk. I fumbled with my words as I shook his hand. "Oh, god, sorry. I didn't know you were here." I shook his hand for several seconds until it became awkward. "Oh sorry, I'm Sloan. The name's Sloan." "Yeah, I know." Kirk chuckled and grinned. "Bruce told me I should introduce myself to you. He said you had a similar childhood." "He may have exaggerated a bit," I replied. "I grew up in a small town in Texas with a single Dad, but he was always completely supportive." "I knew that, too. You're a bit of a writer yourself." "Did Bruce tell you that?" I didn't remember telling Bruce the first A.D. that I was a writer. "No." Kirk suddenly looked like he was embarrassed. "I recognized your name and put two-and-two together. You know, as a former teenage bear myself." "Oh wow," I said in utter surprise, realizing that the screenwriter of CUB had read the stories I'd published online. "This is literally the first time a total stranger has mentioned my stories to me." "I have to tell you," Kirk said, "even though I'd already moved to L.A. to write screenplays when I came across your stories last year, they really struck a chord with me." "Thanks." I have to admit that it felt good to find someone who admired my writing. "So yeah," he said. "You should definitely come over to Troy's house. It's up in the Hollywood Hills. He's got a deck with a hot tub. We can sit there and chat. Enjoy the beautiful view. Get to know each other better." "I didn't bring trunks." Kirk grinned. "You won't need them." *** Kirk was right. The view from the deck of Troy the producer's Hollywood Hills house was gorgeous. It overlooked all of Hollywood, with the skyline of downtown Los Angeles sparkling in the distance. However, I wasn't looking at the city below. Instead, I was focused on an even more gorgeous sight: Kirk clumsily and adorably removing his clothes as we prepared to jump into the jacuzzi that was bubbling and overflowing with steam. After the wrap party had broken up at the country-western bar at around 11:00, Bruce, the producers, a few of the crew members, Kirk, and I had driven our cars up the narrow, winding streets up into the hills to Troy's house, which was a mid-century modern house perched on stilts on a steep slope, which made standing on the deck a little scary. I wondered how the house would fare in an inevitable earthquake, but Troy had assured us that it had done just fine in the Northridge quake seven years earlier. Upon arriving, all of the party guests had headed straight to the bar for drinks, then headed out onto the deck to take in the view. No one else was interested in taking a dip in the jacuzzi, so by the time midnight came around and the December chill became noticeable, everyone had headed back into the house, leaving just Kirk and me. That's when Kirk declared that it was time for us to get naked and get warmed up in the jacuzzi. "I'll go first," he said with confidence, then proceeded to look like a complete dork as he awkwardly pulled off his Christmas sweater, which momentarily got bunched up and stuck around his neck before he was able to pull one of his thick arms out of the sleeve. The sweater had been so tight that it had pulled up the tee-shirt he'd been wearing underneath, exposing his chubby belly, which was covered with coarse, light brown fur. "So much for the sexy striptease," he remarked with chagrin as he managed to pull off his sweater and tossed it onto a nearby deck chair. He then peeled off his tee-shirt to fully reveal his burly, hairy torso. He looked at me with consternation. "Now, I know for a fact that you're not the shy type." I'd been so transfixed by the sight of Kirk removing his clothes that I'd forgotten that I was supposed to do that same. "Sorry, I was... distracted." Kirk laughed as I started taking off my clothes. I was so accustomed to it that I was completely naked before Kirk had even managed to take off his jeans. As he pulled off his underwear, I saw that his penis was already half-hard. We looked over each other's bodies. He had the doughy, furry teddy bear body of someone who had clearly never been an athlete, unless bowlers are considered athletes, but was naturally and pleasantly burly. Even though the CUB screenplay didn't depict him as a nerd, he probably was one in high school. He was practically drooling as he looked over my naked body. "Well, you certainly look exactly how I pictured you, though I have yet to see if you're telling the truth about that eight-and-a-half-incher of yours." He smirked. "Bruce told me it's true." "Oh, you'll see it's true," I replied proudly, rubbing my gradually hardening cock with my fingers. Kirk climbed the steps to the jacuzzi and stepped in. "Yeah, that's the stuff," he sighed as he settled into the bubbling, hot water. I climbed in after him, slowly lowering my body into the almost scalding water, which stung my skin after having been standing in the cold night air. My cock stiffened and swelled as it gradually neared the water's surface, and Kirk reached over and gave it a playful squeeze with his chubby fingers as it disappeared into the water. I chuckled as I sat down next to him and let out a heavy sigh. "Feels good, huh?" Kirk said. "The hot water or your hand on my cock?" I asked, feeling him wrap his fingers around my now fully hard dick and starting to gently pump my shaft. I reached over into the water and grasped his cock, which was a stiff seven inches. We just sat there in the bubbling water, casually masturbating each other as the steam enveloped, and we continued our conversation. "So do you want to be writer?" Kirk asked. "Professionally, I mean." "I dunno," I answered. "I don't know if I've ever seen a future in it." "Well, sometimes you just have to go ahead and do it, regardless of whether you succeed or not. I mean, four years ago I decided that I wanted to be a screenwriter, so I just packed up and moved out here. You've read my script, so you know that it was also a good excuse to get the fuck out of Alabama." "You've been out here for four years? How'd you manage to survive?" "Oh, you know, just odd jobs here and there. Worked at a hardware store and then at an auto repair shop. I'll never tell him this, but some of those skills my Dad taught me ended up coming in handy. Those jobs gave me time to write, and I ended up winning a couple of screenwriting competitions, which led to me getting an agent and optioning a couple of scripts before I finally decided to get personal and write CUB. And so here we are." "Here we are," I repeated, grinning. "Jerking each other off in a hot tub." Kirk grinned back. "Bruce was right. You've got an amazing cock." He then leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. Our beards rubbed together as we made out while continuing to fondle our stiff rods under the water. We ran our free hands up and down each other's broad backs. Kirk finally broke the kiss and patted the edge of the jacuzzi. "Get up here," he ordered in a surprisingly authoritative voice. "I want to suck your cock." I obliged, pushing myself up until I was half-standing, half-sitting against the side of the jacuzzi so that my stiff erection pointed up towards the cold night sky. Kirk looked at it hungrily with wide eyes. "Fuck, that's beautiful," he said with his Southern drawl before enveloping the end of my cock with his hot, wet mouth. It was now my eyes widening as more and more of my shaft disappeared into his mouth and presumably down his throat until his nose was nestled in the hair at the base. It was the first time that someone had ever managed to swallow the entire length of my fully erect penis without gagging. Even more impressively, I felt him flexing the muscles of his throat, massaging my cockhead. I felt like I might cum right away. "Oh fuck," I groaned. "How are you doing that?" Obviously, Kirk didn't answer, instead bobbing his head up and down, fucking his throat with my cock as he skillfully pleasured my shaft. Despite having grown up in an oppressive environment in Alabama, he'd clearly found enough men to practice on in his youth. He grabbed my ass with his hands, holding me in place as he continued his vigorous blowjob. I felt his hands drifting towards my asshole, and he started rubbing it with both of his middle fingers. I could tell he was doing it to relax my ass muscles, and I knew that he wanted to fuck me. But first, he wanted to taste my cum, and it wasn't long before I was ready to give it to him. He increased the intensity of his blowjob until I couldn't hold back any longer. It felt like I blacked out for a moment as my cock exploded in his mouth, spewing rivers of my sperm down his waiting throat. I looked down and saw that Kirk had a huge smile on his face even as I pumped my load into his belly. I felt his throat muscles contracting around my penis as he gulped it all down. Finally, he pulled his mouth off me and once again spoke in a commanding voice. "Turn around and bend over." Even as I was still coming down from my orgasm, cum still dripping from my still-hard cock and falling into the bubbling water, I did as I was told, turning around and bending over the edge of the jacuzzi, resting my big stomach on my folded arms. Kirk's bristly beard scratched my ass as he dove in and started to attack my asshole with his wet tongue. It'd been a very long time since I'd had a good rimming, and Kirk seemed to know it, practically ramming his tongue all the way into my ass. "Oh god," I moaned as he fucked me with his tongue. I looked up at the glass patio doors at the living room of Tory's house, where the dozen or so people at the afterparty were drinking and chatting, seemingly ignoring the two young bears going at it just outside. The only person inside who seemed to take notice was Bruce the first A.D., who grinned and raised his wine glass in a toast. I grinned back, then opened my mouth wide and let out another loud groan. Finally, Kirk pulled his mouth away from my ass. "Yeah, I think you're ready," he said gruffly. "I've been ready since the moment we met," I replied. I felt Kirk pressing the tip of his stiff cock against my asshole, placing his hands on my shoulders as he pushed his pole into me with a single, impassioned thrust and started fucking me mercilessly. He growled and snarled in pure, unbridled lust as he pummeled my ass with his shaft. I was in pure heaven, enjoying the feel of his soft, furry body slamming against me. It was quite a contrast to being fucked by Chuck, the actor who had played him in CUB, and I found myself being amused by the thought that Chuck may have been seriously miscast in the role. Kirk was an absolute animal when he fucked, not at all like the timid, scared young man that he'd described in his supposedly autobiographical screenplay. "Fuck me, fuck me," I grunted as his shaft pounded into my ass over and over again, sending a wave of pleasure through my body with each thrust. "You want my cum in you, don't you," Kirk growled. "You're a nasty bear-pig who wants me shoot inside you." "Yes!" I cried out. "Pump your cum into me!" He chuckled as he grabbed my hips with his strong hands and held me as his thrusts became even more frenzied. "Yeah, fucker," he groaned, his Southern accent now sounding menacing rather than charming, "take it." Looking into the house, I saw that Bruce was still the only person who was watching us fuck. The expression on his face was one of both shock and amusement, probably because he had done the same thing to my ass just a couple of months earlier. "Here it comes," Kirk growled, and he made a few more quick thrusts before shoving his cock all the way into me and holding onto my hips as he let out a loud yell. His cock pulsed in me, and I felt jets of his hot semen shooting deep into my body, coating the walls of my ass. His body trembled, and he grunted like a wild animal with each spurt. He seemed to continue shooting cum into me for a full thirty seconds, his shaft throbbing over and over again until I felt his furry body shivering in the cold night air. "God, I could get used to this," he sighed as he pulled his cock out of my ass and sank back into the steaming water of the jacuzzi. "So could I," I replied, enjoying the feeling of the hot water washing over me as I sat back down next to him. "So about that..." Kirk had clearly been planning to ask me something from the moment he approached me at the wrap party. "What're your plans now that CUB's wrapped? You think you're going to try to find another P.A. job?" "Hadn't really thought about it much," I answered. "Bruce said he might try to find me some work after New Year's." "Well, I asked Bruce about it, too." He smiled. "How'd you like to work for me?" "Work for you?" I was surprised. "Doing what?" "As my assistant," he replied. "Not just with the boring office stuff, like answering my calls and setting up my meetings and appointments, but you'd also be my writing assistant. You know, proofreading and editing my scripts and giving me notes. I could tell from your stories that you're a natural born writer. A writer's assistant job is a great way to develop that talent while getting paid. What do you think?" I pondered the offer for a moment, then grinned. "On one condition." Kirk looked confused. "What?" "As long as you keep fucking me." He smiled wryly. "I think you can count on that. In fact, I think that would happen even if you didn't take the job." He leaned over, and we sealed this turning point in my life with another passionate kiss.