Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2023 17:09:30 +0000 (UTC)
From: Sloan Cosgrove <thefratbear@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear: Chapter 27

"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 ask a question. I can even send you a copy of the original "Sloan
Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear" in handy PDF format. Please note
that my old fratbear(at)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 27: Temping

October 2003

"So obviously we're not one of those huge publicity and marketing firms,"
Reggie said somewhat apologetically as he walked me through the clean and
minimalist offices of HartBPM.

Just a couple of days after my "interview" with Kam at his temp agency, I
received a phone call from Amir asking me if I'd be interested in a temp
office assistant job at a relatively new brand publicity firm in downtown
LA. Nothing special, but they paid well, it was for an indefinite period
of time but at least until Christmas, and there was the possibility of
the job becoming permanent if they liked me.

After nearly eight months of unemployment, I was ready to take any
reasonably-paying office job that was being offered, so I agreed to do a
brief phone interview with someone from the firm. I guess they just
wanted to make sure I wasn't completely incompetent before letting me
into their offices.

Reggie was the one who called me the following day. He sounded very warm
and friendly, and he seemed very impressed by the fact that I used to
work for the rapidly rising screenwriter Kirk Robinson. In fact, half of
the phone interview ended up being about CUB, which was scheduled for a
theatrical release in a few weeks. Reggie had tons of questions about the
movie, and I was happy to regale him with stories about the movie's
production. His intense interest in CUB made it obvious that he was gay,
and even though employers weren't allowed to ask job applicants about
their sexual orientation, I was pretty sure Reggie had figured out that I
was gay, too. Obviously, I got the temp job.

The offices were located on the first floor of a building on Spring
Street, a 12-story building that had been built in the 1920s as a
department store but had been converted in the 1980s to an office
building with modern, sterile offices while still retaining that look of
a Depression-Era high-rise on the outside.

On the following Monday morning, the first day of my temp job at HartBPM,
I parked my GMC Sonoma in the parking garage adjacent to the building at
8:30, a full half-hour before they were expecting me. I waited in the
lobby of the building outside the locked doors of the offices until just
before 9:00, when the heavy main building entrance door opened, and a
bespectacled 30-something bear with a meticulously styled head of
reddish-brown hair and a short but thick beard entered the building, a
messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He was a few inches shorter than
me, but I could tell he was built just as thick as me.

His face brightened when he saw me. "You Sloan?" he asked, smiling wryly
as he approached me with a ring of keys in his hand.

"Yeah," I replied, shaking his hand after he'd unlocked the office doors.
"Are you Reggie?"

"Sure am." He seemed to be grinning from the realization that I was a
fellow bear. "You been waiting long?"

"About half an hour. I wanted to give myself plenty of time to find the
place, but I guess I overdid it."

Reggie chuckled as we stepped into the offices. "Yeah, you don't have to
worry about getting here too early," he said as he switched on the
lights. "I live pretty close by and walk here, so I'm usually the first
one in, but we're not very strict about work hours around here. The
others don't even start getting in until around 9:30." He held out his
arms as if he were presenting the offices to me. "Well, welcome to
HartBPM. I'm sure you're dazzled."

He was being ironic, of course, because the office wasn't much to speak
of, with bare, white walls lined with metal cabinets. A conference table
sat in the middle of the room. One end of the office was just a wall of
windows facing Spring Street, but they were currently covered by vertical
blinds. Reggie walked over to the windows and opened the blinds.

"First thing I do every morning," Reggie explained. "So people can see
that there are actually people working in here. Otherwise, they might
think these offices are vacant. We basically use this front section as a
reception area and conference room, though we haven't even hired a
receptionist, yet. That may be our next hire."

"So where will I be working?" I asked.

Reggie pointed to the hallway leading towards the back of the building.
"Our offices are down that hallway, so you'll probably be doing most of
your work out here unless one of us needs your help in their office.
Gavin only started the firm last year. There're five other junior
publicists, including me." He pointed to two desks on either side of the
beginning the hallway. "Right now we only have two assistants for the
entire firm, so we're definitely in need of some help. That's where you
come in."

As he led me down the hallway, he gave me a little background on the
firm. The "Gavin" in HartBPM was the big boss Gavin Hart, who used to
work at a big advertising agency in Chicago before moving to Los Angeles
a year ago and opening his own firm where he could help fledgling brands
and products break out into the marketplace. The "BPM" stood for
"branding, publicity, and marketing."

The first room was a small kitchen and lounge that also served as the
copier room, conveniently located just past the assistant desks. Reggie's
office was next, which he had decorated with framed posters of some of
the products and brands he was currently working on promoting.

There were more than a half-dozen more offices for junior publicists, a
couple of them still vacant and bare, lining the hallway, which bent
around a corner. It all led to the largest office at the very end, an old
school wood-panel executive suite that must've taken up a quarter of the
firm's office space, extending all the way back to the front of the
building, so it also had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto
Spring Street.

"This is obviously Gavin's office," Reggie explained. "He gets in around
ten. And he usually leaves by seven so he can be home in time for dinner
with the family, though some nights he stays late."

That's when I noticed the family photos lining a shelf behind the big
wooden desk, portraits of an All-American Midwestern family with a
beautiful blonde Mom, two pre-teen kids (a boy and a girl), and Dad. I
had been expecting Gavin to be some kind of stuffy, aristocratic
suit-and-tie type with a martini in his hand. So when I saw the photos of
Gavin, I almost gasped. The man in the photos was a middle-aged Dad who
was also possibly the thickest musclebear I'd ever seen.

Reggie noticed my reaction to Gavin's photo. "I know, right?" he said.
"Not what you're expecting."

We returned to the reception area just as both assistants, Justin and
Carl, were arriving for work. They were both recent college graduates who
looked like they played lacrosse in school. Then one by one, the other
junior publicists arrived for work, introducing themselves to me before
disappearing into their offices. I noticed that there were no women at
the firm, but I didn't ask about it, figuring that Gavin had come from
advertising, which was a notoriously male-dominated business.

By ten o'clock, I was sitting at the conference table surrounded by
stacks of file folders and making labels with a label-maker. Reggie had
put me to work on labeling and alphabetizing client and branding campaign
files. These files had been piling up for a year, and now there were just
too many for any of the current staff to devote the time needed to
organize them, making it the perfect first project for a temp.

"Good morning, Gavin." I was so absorbed in typing on the label-maker
with my fat fingers that I didn't even notice that someone had entered
the office until Carl the assistant spoke up.

I looked up and almost gasped again, this time from seeing Gavin Hart in
the flesh. Even dressed in slacks and a blazer, he looked absolutely
massive. He was probably my height, but considerably thicker, his body
packed with equal parts fat and muscle. He had a very friendly, handsome
face, with piercing grey eyes, buzzcut brown hair, and a neatly-trimmed
beard speckled with grey.

He also seemed to take notice of me the moment he stepped into the
office, and he made a bee-line to me.

"Hello there," he bellowed, extending his hand. "I'm Gavin."

I fumbled with the label-maker, setting it down so I could shake his
hand. "I know," I blurted out. "I mean, I'm Sloan."

"Good to have you here, Sloan," he replied. "I've been telling them for
ages to hire someone to help with out with this mess. Welcome to the
insanity."

"Thanks, Mr. Hart."

He grimaced. "Oh man, no one calls me that. Just call me Gavin."

Carl the assistant called out again. "Gavin, you have that call with
Grant at Consolidated in ten minutes."

Gavin grimaced again. "Ugh, work. A bit of advice. Never start your own
company."

"Don't think that'll be happening anytime soon," I replied.

Gavin chuckled. "See you around."

I watched him stroll off towards his office, noticing that for such a
bulky man, he moved with the confidence and grace of a runway model. All
I could think is that I could never strut with such confidence.

***

Lying casually on the couch in his office, Reggie looked up from the
advertising trade magazine he was perusing as I entered with a stack of
newly labeled and organized file folders and closed the door behind me.

Reggie did have a desk in his office, but it seemed like he only used it
for meetings. Instead, he preferred to do most of his work on the
comfortable couch that he had set up against the wall next to the office
door. Lying there surrounded by folders and printed reports, he looked
like a reclining brown bear in stylish attire.

"So can we talk about how our boss is one of the hottest bears on the
face of the planet?" I said as I handed him the stack of folders.

Reggie let out a boisterous, surprised laugh, which he tried to stifle by
covering his mouth with his hand. "Yeah, you noticed?"

"It's tragic that he's straight."

Reggie smiled. "I'm glad I finally have someone here to talk to about
that." He flipped through the file folders. "Good work. Thanks."

"So what do you need me to do next?" I tried to appear eager and ready
for anything.

Reggie raised an eyebrow. "There anything in particular you want to do?"

"Besides suck Gavin's cock?" I replied, suddenly feeling naughty. "But...
maybe you'd let me suck yours?"

Reggie grinned, reaching down to unzip his pants and pulling out his fat,
hard six-inch penis. "You mean this?"

"Exactly that."

I got down on my knees and immediately swallowed his throbbing cock.
Reggie let out a deep sigh. "Fuck, I'm glad I finally have someone to do
this in the middle of the work day."

Knowing that people would get suspicious if I disappeared behind closed
doors in Reggie's office for too long, I was determined to make him cum
quickly and quietly. I also knew there wasn't time for us to get naked,
so we'd have to do this fully clothed. However, as I bobbed my head up
and down on his thick pole, I did slip my hand under his shirt so that I
could rub his soft, hairy belly. He growled appreciatively, and I was
certain that I'd have the chance to see more of his big, bearish body in
the future.

Reggie ran his fingers through my hair as I continued blowing him,
increasing my pace to ramp up the stimulation on his shaft. It seemed to
be working, because he responded to the increased fervor of my sucking by
letting out increasingly louder moans and groans. Just like he had tried
to stifle his laughter earlier, he covered his mouth with a hand.

I loved the feel of his fat dick in my mouth, but I was eager to have my
mouth flooded with his sperm. I swirled my tongue around his shaft as I
sucked harder, and Reggie breathing turned into short huffs until he
squeezed his eyes shut and finally whispered loudly, "I'm cumming."

I felt his cock pulsing on my tongue, and I was rewarded with several
jets of his hot cum spurting out of him into my waiting mouth. I gulped
it down, not wanting to waste a drop. He gritted his teeth and continued
moaning, clutching my hair with his fingers as he pumped more his sperm
down my throat.

When he was done cumming, I felt his hand relax its grip on my hair, and
he let out another deep sigh. I just stayed perfectly still with his cock
still completely buried in my mouth, sucking gently on it as it gradually
softened.

After about a minute, I slid his cock out of my mouth. I saw Reggie
staring at me as I licked his cock clean, a look of both astonishment and
gratitude on his handsome, bearded face.

"I think you might be the best thing to happen to this firm in a long
while," he said, grinning.

"Happy to help," I said as I tucked his cock back into his pants and
zipped them up. "But I guess we should both get back to work."