Date: Fri, 12 Aug 2022 15:52:07 +0100
From: Todd Mitchell <gayjockgeek@gmail.com>
Subject: The Tale of the Aussie Rugby Bottom - Chapter 10

Author: Richard Saw

Categories: Adult Friends, Athletics

I've been a long-time reader of Nifty, adoring fan of so many writers.
This story: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom was a book that I
published via Amazon. I no longer sell it, but I decided that people here
might like to read it, and the sequel that I never published.

Characters in these stories do feature in my Holmes & Watson mystery
novels (available on Amazon, search Richard Saw), so if you like a little
mystery novel (with lots of sex and humour), please do look them up. But
I promise that all of the good stuff will be in these stories.

And yes, do send me fan mail.

And more importantly, please remember to donations to Nifty (using
link https://donate.nifty.org/). Your erections are in their hands!


In this Chapter our hero meets the neighbourhood bear.


The Tale of An Aussie Rugby Bottom, who also liked to Top - Chapter 10


It was in this state of mental molasses that I met Rob. He was a big bear
-- I'd heard the phrase plenty of times, but Rob was a living, breathing
example -- and he happened to live on the same floor as Carlos and
myself. Like most bears I would meet later in life, he seemed to have an
innate ability to spot a fellow soul at 50 yards and was never short of a
kind word. When we met in the elevator -- him with his groceries, me
sweaty from a run, it was the beginning of an immediate kinship. He
invited me over for a beer at his place that evening and I happily
agreed. I can even to this day vividly recall the first time I went over
there. He opened the door wearing a tight, white vest (he was a large lad
-- with a `real man's belly' as he called it), cut-off grey flannel
shorts that showed exactly how solid his legs were and a pair of
slippers. It was his choice of footwear that captivated me -- they say
you can tell more about a person from their possessions then from
anything they say -- and Rob displayed the life of a comfortable
bachelor. The coffee table was solid teak, the sofa large, relaxed, and
grey and the floors were wooden for easy cleaning. But it was the
slippers, the comfy, fluffy slippers that said, `Here is a man relaxed
in his own domain'. And you can't tell me that isn't a desirable
characteristic in a bear!

A TV cameraman, he was often traveling, and I quickly discovered that the
reappearance of his Grindr picture on my homepage, was the most certain
way of knowing he was back in town. We quickly developed a strange sort
of dual friendship. When we would meet in the hallway or bump into each
other at the local Sainsburys, the conversation was always about work or
the neighbours or the rugby. Even though I'd left the sport, I still
used rugby as a method to attract the men I wanted. I was in that stage
of life where I still hated the sport and everything it represented. But
I knew its attraction to butch gay men, and I could explain my
disappointing (my view of course) physique with the `I'm playing
rugby' excuse much better than I could handle admitting I was eating
through my pain. Years later a friend with a much more intellectual view
of these things, confessed to me that he had bought a rugby shirt to wear
out in public after he'd had a leg operation and was on crutches.
Because, he explained there were only two butch excuses for being on
crutches, one was a skiing accident and the other was rugby. And he
wasn't posh enough to pull off the skiing one!

But back to Rob. Late at night, my phone would blink, and he'd message
me via Grindr for more `earthy' conversations about who or what I'd
been doing. Sometimes he was a little brusque with a few too many
`woofs' as response. But he was a font of knowledge about bear culture
and as a rugby boy whose stomach was heading in the wrong direction, I
was beginning to think this was where my future lay.

I'd almost come to the conclusion that despite the occasional flirty
message, Rob wasn't interested in me. Until one night, when his Grindr
chat turned to how he and a group of mates -- all hairy, sweaty bears --
had taken a twink and worked him over good. Suddenly I felt a surge of
desire I'd not had since Gareth. The idea of getting taken by a group of
guys -- especially big bears like Rob -- sounded so hot. Especially if
there were fat bears. Actually that thought seemed to be the one really
turning me on. I'd been to pubs and bars and of course I liked the big
muscle bears and never really paid the `chunky' ones that much
attention. But fuck, the idea of being `made' to give it up to a group
of fat, sweaty, hairy bears who were real men with real beer bellies ...
damn I was so hard again.

But immediately after those messages, Rob would be back to the same
unfailingly polite neighbour when we met each other. When I woke up each
morning with a hard-on and wanked off to the thought of servicing him
while he sat in his slippers with a cuppa, I knew I should do something
about this. Sensibly I waited until he invited me over for drinks again
and pretended to get a little drunk, claiming I hadn't eaten enough
because I was on a diet.

Of course there's nothing that a bear hates more than to hear the word
`diet'. Rob insisted I was perfectly fine, but I disagreed and quickly
pulled off my shirt to let him see. Rob couldn't resist feeling me up
and I started to tell him how much I liked bears and, taking my cue from
his Grindr story I confessed how much the `chunky' bears excited me.
Rob patted his big stomach and gave a loud laugh. "Feel my thighs," he
demanded and damn he was solid. I hadn't seen or felt thighs like that
outside of a full back. And it all came flashing back to me -- my brother
was a `front row boy' and so were all of his mates. No matter how good
I'd been as a `Centre', it was hard not to look at the front row -- so
tall, so big, so thick, so dumb -- and not think they were more man then
I'd ever be. Maybe I had drunk too much because I gave out an unexpected
tremble when I touched him. I'd never been able to touch those huge
thighs of my brother's friends, but I'd sat staring across from them
more times than I could remember.

Where was my mind going? I shook my head to try and clear it, but I was
getting lost quickly.

Rob seemed to have made a decision for me. "You do lots of squats?" he
asked.

I nodded and at the same time, my mouth had parted a little and my hand
was softly stroking his thigh.

"Show me," he ordered. "Give me a demo."

I got up and pulled off my track suit pants to reveal tight boxer-briefs
underneath. He hadn't asked me to of course but I wanted to show off.
Maybe I thought this would push him over the edge.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," he chanted. "Squat for me boy." And I did, first
side on and then with my arse facing him, grunting, and squeezing as
tightly as I could as if I was back at the gym.

"That's a fucking tight arse mate," he laughed in that gruff voice of
his. I turned around to face him and he had his dick out, slowly wanking
it. I stopped the squats, got down on my hands and knees and went down on
him. It wasn't the hugest cock or anything but just feeling those thick
legs and that big stomach and sheesh... I was as hard as a rock. I had my
hands down my pants, but Rob didn't let me get close. He rumbled a low
growl and came, flooding my mouth with his cum.

"Grr," he growled, rubbing his hand through my hair. "You are a
desperate little cock sucker aren't you?"

I kept sucking his cock, savouring the last of his cum and just happy to
have my mouth full again. "Looks like you want more cock," he laughed.
"I can get you more. You like big bears then?"

I nodded desperately. "You like fat, hairy bears with big cocks to
suck?" I nodded again. "Good. Come over Thursday, 9pm," he ordered.
"We're going to see you done right."

With that, Rob got up from the sofa and smacked my arse. I rolled onto my
back, lifting my legs up in the air and pulled my shorts off over my head
in one go. My hard cock smacked against my abs, and I rolled my legs over
my head and started wanking my cock. So horny was I, I came --
splattering cum all over my face and upper chest. I seemed to keep
cumming until exhaustion ran through me. Rob laughed heartily and sent me
on my way.

The evening in question I went back over to Rob's flat. My heart was in
my mouth, and I wasn't sure what to expect. The idea of attending a sex
party was a massive step for me. I had come dressed in baggy shorts, a
tight sports singlet and carrying some beers under my arm as I knocked on
the door.

"Good lad," Rob said as he opened the door. "Com'n in." He smacked
my pecs with the flat of his hand and as I walked past, he grabbed my
arse. There were four other guys in the apartment. All with beers in
their hands, all with beards and all dressed casually in shorts and
t-shirts. Rob was easily the most attractive of them. They weren't ugly
but it wasn't muscle that made em big. There were two that were taller
than me and two smaller. Rob introduced me around as his neighbour and I
felt myself feeling awkward, unsure exactly of what he had told the
others about me.

I opened one of the beers I had brought and took a big gulp. One of the
little bears came up to me without the slightest hesitation and felt up
my chest. "Nice pecs," he gave them a feel, his voice not as butch as
I'd expected. "Wanna show em off properly?"

I laughed, shrugged as if it was no big deal and peeled off my top,
revelling in showing my muscles off even if I wasn't the size I used to
be. For a long time I'd been just one of the guys. Not the biggest, not
the strongest, not the one with the biggest dick or the loudest mouth or
the most girls. But here I was, definitely the hottest and loving every
moment of it.

"Do you shave your chest mate?" one of the big bears asked from across
the room. I suddenly blushed. I'd forgotten that Gareth had made me
shave it all off and even though I hadn't seen him in weeks, I'd done
it again recently as a matter of habit. Now in front of these bears I not
only felt very foolish, but I also felt like a little boy who'd lost his
swimming trunks at the pool in front a group of older boys.

"I...I..." I bushed even more.

"Don't be mean," Rob said in a voice that made me feel ever more like
a teenager all over again. "He's just a boy."

I wanted to cry out that I was a man not a boy, but I found myself
instead trying to cover up my bare chest in response. Suddenly I didn't
feel like the big guy anymore. As I was cowering, Rob came up behind me
and pants-ed me -- pulling my shorts and jocks down in one quick
movement, all the way to the floor. I instinctively bent forward to cover
my family jewels as the bears all laughed, their chuckles hearty and
loud.

"Fucking oath you are a fit little lad," the little bear in front of me
exclaimed. But it didn't feel like he was admiring me anymore, it felt
like he wanted me to sit on his knee. "Com'n. Get on the coffee table
and give us a show," he instructed, giving me a firm slap on my
backside.

I glanced over at Rob who gave a firm nod and I shuffled there, my face
downcast and a hand covering my junk. One of the bigger bears batted my
hand away as I stepped up on the table, someone switched on some dance
music and suddenly I felt a burst of confidence. I was a bit shy at first
but looking down at the five bears -- all leering up at me with beers in
their hands, I found myself filled with the unexpected desire to show
off. Maybe this was part of the reason (apart from the money) girls found
stripping so hard to leave. I flexed my biceps and got a wolf whistle,
and I was off. I did everything I could imagine a bodybuilder and a
stripper would do -- though not like I'd done for Gareth -- and one of
the little bears was the first to pull his cock out. It was bigger than
Rob's with a nice, unwrinkled head and I found it hard to stop looking
at it.

"Wanna taste of this boy?" he leered. I nodded my head. I wanted to
taste all of them. I was now ready for this. I got down on my hands and
knees and opened my mouth in supplication. He stuck his cock right in and
I started to worship it, sucking on it like I'd never wanted anything
more in my life. I felt something cool against my arsehole and I realised
one of the bigger bears -- to the accompanying chuckles of the others --
was opening my arse up with his beer bottle. I moaned appreciatively and
quickly found it was replaced with a finger. I pushed back, showing how
much I needed it.

Another bear came forward, his cock emerging from his shorts. The other
one let him in for a piece of my mouth and I found myself trying to
manage both at the same time. Even if I was horny beyond all imagination,
Rob didn't seem to think I was willing enough. He came over and shoved a
vial of poppers under my nose.

"Take a deep breath boy," he commanded.

I felt the fingers playing with my arsehole becoming slick with lube and
more assertive. I pushed back like I had been taught and I was rewarded
with a hard pat on my arse and a growling, "Good lad," from one of the
bears. I would have wagged my tail if I had one. And then I felt the
pressure. I released the cock in my mouth just enough to give a whimper
of pleasure, which caused the assault to stop for just a moment which had
been my intention. I'd always been tight, but another sniff of amyl and
I felt everything relax. Then there was that body-sapping moment when the
cock drove in all the way. It felt thick and I felt totally filled. My
head dropped as I absorbed what had happened. I felt a hand pat my head
and start to stroke it. I gradually perked up and started to lick the
cocks in my face again. It wasn't too long before I felt the renewed
assault on my arse. None of the bears were making the slightest move to
take off their clothes. I was to be left naked for their amusement -- and
they could do anything they wanted to me. I heard a roar from behind me
that signalled the bear fucking me was coming. But as soon as I felt him
withdraw, another cock immediately filled me. The sloppy, cum soaked cock
suddenly appeared in my mouth and I was to keep sucking that until the
next one had unloaded in my arse. Then Rob came around the front and
unloaded his cum down my throat. Then another cock -- wet and slimy from
fucking me -- was shoved in my mouth. This time the fucking seemed to
last a good time, though it was probably shorter than before. But the
feeling of being used and abused by these bears was fantastic. My own
cock was hard, aching from constantly swinging from side to side as my
arse was continually pummelled. My jaw ached, sweat was pouring off me,
my hair was matted to my face. I'm sure that a couple of them -- the two
smallest bears -- came back for a second time but I was too far gone to
distinguish which ones.

Exhausted, aching, and horny beyond anything I had ever felt before, I
found myself falling off the table a gibbering mess at Rob's feet.
"You're not done yet boy," he teased. He knelt down and slid to
fingers into my aching, wet hole. "Before you can cum I need you to do a
lap dance for all of my mates."

I climbed to my feet and surveyed the four men, all of them seated on
Rob's two sofas, dirty smiles on their faces. I began to imagine how an
exhausted whore felt. Like the ones the boys on the rugby teams back home
used to shag when they went on holidays to Bali. (The trips where I would
continually use the excuse of my girlfriend back home to avoid
participating in these bonding rituals.) The music started up again and
it was one of the small bears, patting his lap and demanding that I dance
for him. I guess this was what all those squats had been for and all that
endurance training. I looked over at Rob and he demanded again, "You
can't cum till you've danced for everyone."

It was that desire that made me keep going. I could have stopped and
walked out at any moment, but something held me back. I needed to prove
to myself I could satisfy everyone. If I had any humility left I would
have blushed with the realisation that it was exactly what I had
experienced as a teenager. Always the favourite of the coach because I
would work harder than everyone else. I needed to be his favourite, I
needed to have my dad think the best of me. I needed to be last in the
shower. Just in case one day they found out I liked cock.

I felt like a young boy again around all these men. I wanted to be part
of their world and I seemed to have made the decision that if this was
what I needed to do, I would do it. So I flexed my tired muscles once
again and squatted over them. I let their hands roam all over me, I
wiggled my arse in their faces and sucked their fingers which were wet
with the juices spilling out of my arse. Eventually Rob emerged with a
big dildo and placed it on the centre of the coffee table. Weary, I
trembled and placed myself on top of it. It vibrated as well and that was
enough. I came, cum shooting out of me in a fantastic release. The bears
cheered and I felt like I had become a man in their eyes. But it was not
to be. Rob pulled the dildo out of me, scooped up my clothes, thrust them
into my arms and pushed me towards the door. I was stunned. I obviously
wasn't a man yet, I was still just a plaything. I was pushed out into
the hallway and the door firmly closed behind me. I stumbled down the
corridor towards my own door before I realised that my keys were
somewhere in my shorts.

As I stood, naked and trembling, struggling to find my keys, when I heard
a door behind me open. I turned, expecting to see Rob but instead finding
myself staring at one of the smaller bears.

"You did a good job boy," he congratulated me. "But I can tell. You
need more cock, dontcha?"

I nodded, confused as to whether this was praise or an insult.

"Here's my number," he wrote it with a marker pen on my sweaty chest.
"Call me your Master when you ring. And we'll go to a place where you
can get everything you so obviously need."