Date: Mon, 21 May 2012 03:47:25 -0400 (EDT)
From: Pwrlftrbear@aol.com
Subject: Standing On the Edge of Forever Chapter 24 (Part 9)

				    24

	We stayed there one last night.  Can't say as we got that much
sleep, of course.  In the morning, we packed up the last of his clothes,
even though he'd be unlikely to fit into any of them in a few months.
	We got down to the cabin and spent a good part of the day putting
stuff away.
	"What's this?" he said, looking at the statue on the mantle.
	"Something Grandpapa gave me," I said, biting my tongue.
	"May I?" he asked, looking back at me.
	I nodded, unsure whether he was displeased that I had put it there,
or what.
	"Bronze bear, rough modeling, heavily textured," he muttered,
running his hands over the surface.  "Almost looks like a Rodin," he said,
glancing at me.
	"Turn it over," I said with a grin, quite pleased with him.
	"Holy fuck!" he said.  "August Rodin!  Thought he did mostly human
figures."
	"He did, but he did this as a favor for Grandpapa.  He gave it to
me to remember him by."
	"Is he...gone?" he said cautiously, putting it back on the mantle.
	"No, he's still around.  Haven't seen him in a long time, but if
something happened to him, I think we'd know," I said, then grew a little
sad.
	"What's wrong?" he said, crossing the room to put his arms around
me.
	"It's nothing," I lied.
	He glared up at me.
	"What's wrong?" he repeated.
	I heaved a sigh.  It was funny that he could tell when I wasn't
being completely honest with him.
	"I haven't heard from him since Rick died.  Even then, he just sent
a note."
	I hurt, but there was nothing I could do about it.  I wasn't even
sure where he was now.
	He pulled me towards the couch and made me sit.
	"So, he was Rick's...papa?" he asked.
	"Yeah, but everyone always called him Grandpapa," I replied, then
snorted.  "Come to think of it, don't even know his real name.  He's just
always been Grandpapa."
	"Do you think he had trouble dealing with losing Rick?" he said,
laying his head on my shoulder.  "With the way you...we recover from most
wounds, loosing a...child must be incredibly difficult to deal with.  Don't
you think?"
	I thought about that for a while.  It had never occurred to me, but
it made a lot of sense.
	"I thought he was mad at me for losing Rick," I said softly.
Goodness knows, he wouldn't be the only one.
	He squeezed my hand.
	"Trust me, I know about grief," he said, face darkening.  "Nobody
really knows what to say, or even how to say it.  Even those grieving don't
always react rationally," he said with a sheepish smile.  "I...ended a long
term friendship just because he told me, 'I know just how you feel.'.  I'm
sure he still loves you.  Just give him time.  After all, you've got a lot
of that."
	He smiled sadly up at me and I chuckled.
	"To be honest, I don't know if you see time the same way that
I...well, a normal person does.  Whether you see your life as centuries,
rather than years.  It may be that to you, the years since you lost Rick
feels like no more than the year since I lost Joe.  And if he's that much
older than you, the temporal...claudications might be worse."
	"You know, you make it hard to think of you as my cub, sometimes?
Of course, other times...."
	He laughed.
	"Well, it was like that with Joe.  There was a significant age gap
between us, though nothing like the between you and me, but I didn't think
of him that way.  You are my papa bear, but mostly I just think of you as
Paul."
	I bent down and kissed him, wondering how I had got so lucky.



	"Well, we are now, officially moved," Paul said as I laid against
him on the couch at the cabin.  "Glad you and Mike made up."
	"Think he learned his lesson?" I asked.  I hated to admit it, but I
felt kind of bad about what I'd done to Mike.  Knocking him out, that is,
not what I did afterward.
	"I hope so," he chuckled.
	"Nobody treats me like that.  Nobody," I said, trying to not get
angry again.  "Well, almost nobody," I said speculatively, looking up at
him.
	"Oh, no you don't.  You get that idea right out of your head," he
said sternly, tapping the middle of my forehead.  "I've seen you fight."
	"Besides, you can't rape the willing," I laughed.
	"And sounds like you and Cliff really hit it off."
	"Yeah," I said with a grin, "We seem to have a lot in common.  He's
going to take care of the grounds for me and I'll be making him some new
leathers."
	"A little quid pro quot?  You fuck my ass, I'll fuck yours?"
	I laughed so hard, my sides began to hurt.
	We relaxed, watching the flames leap in the fireplace, enjoying the
moment.
	"After I got stabbed, you said, 'For some of us, it's what saves
us.'  What did you mean?" I said suddenly.
	He looked at me in surprise, then smiled.
	"You remember that?" he asked.
	"Well, there's not much I don't remember," I smiled, thinking what
an understatement that was.  "So what did you mean?"
	He held me a long while in silence before he spoke.
	"I told you how we're made, through cum or blood?"
	I nodded and he continued.
	"Well, you're being changed by cum.  I was changed by blood."
	His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.
	"I was a young man.  Well, back then, you were considered a man
much younger than you would be today," he said, giving me a slight smile.
"Though not quite old enough to fight in the war."
	"Which war?" I asked softly.
	"The Revolutionary War," he said.
	I took that in.  He had told me how long he had been with Rick, but
I was still struggling to wrap my mind around the reality of it.
	"My family's home was in what would now be New York.  The land was
much wilder then.  My father and older brothers had been pulled away to
fight in the war.  My mother, sister and I did out best to keep the farm
running.  Then, one day, my mother had sent me to town to sell the butter
and cheese we had made.  I never made it."
	I sat up, pressing myself against him.  Not speaking, just letting
him know he wasn't alone.  I could sense how much it was costing him to
tell me this.
	"I was following the trail through the woods.  I had done that so
many times.  I suppose I never really thought it might be dangerous, but
something made me nervous.  As if something was watching me.  I remember
hearing a screech and saw the mountain lion leaping at me.  My gun was
useless at that point, but I drew my knife.  It fell on me and I screamed
as it's fangs crunched down on my arm."
	He sat rubbing his left arm, as if remembering the phantom pain.
	"Its rear claws raked at me, rending my flesh.  In a panic, I
stabbed at it, over and over with all my strength.  I was still stabbing at
it when I finally realized it was no longer moving.  I was in agony, my
lower body a bloody mess.  I knew scavengers would smell the carcass and I
didn't want to be there when that happened.  I struggled out from under the
beast, my clothes soaked with blood, it's and mine.  I couldn't stand, so I
dragged myself further down the trail.  That's where he found me."
	"Rick," I said, when the silence stretched on too long.
	He nodded.
	"He swept me up and took me to his camp.  His face was grim as he
examined my wounds.  He told me he could help me, but I could never go back
to my old life.  I laughed and blood splattered my lips.  I would have no
life at all if I went back.  He nodded solemnly and pulled out his hunting
knife.  He stripped off his shirt, exposing his coat of red fur to me.  He
held his arm above me and slashed at his arm.  His hot blood fell upon my
shredded flesh, mixing with my own.  As I watched, the cut on his arm
healed itself.  He slashed himself, again and again, he face a frozen
grimace.  He stopped and stared into my eyes and told me I was his, now.
It was then that I realized the pain was going away.  I watched as my
wounds slowly healed.
	"He stripped off the rest of his clothes.  He was a massive man and
at the time, I didn't understand why he made me feel the way I did.  'As I
am, you shall become,' he told me and began to change.  Where once had
stood a man, a great bear towered over me.  I knew I should have been
terrified, but I struggled to my feet and embraced him.  He sank to the
ground, curling himself around me.  I felt safe and warm.  And happier than
I had ever been."
	He abruptly locked eyes with me.
	"Until now," he said softly.
	I squeezed him tightly, feeling my eyes begin to water.
	"Will you do it for me?" I asked.
	He smiled tenderly and rose from the couch.  He stepped back, flesh
rippling, bones shifting.  His nose pulled his mouth forward into a blunt
muzzle.  Thick, coarse fur pushed out, hiding his natural pelt.  Thick
claws sprouted from his hands and feet as his fingers and toes merged into
paws.  His already impressive penis grew as well, the flared head
flattening.  At last, the bear...my bear stood before me.  He gave a
plaintive whine deep in his chest, forepaws outstretched.
	He was speaking to me, but I didn't understand what he said, but
knew what he wanted.
	 I went to him and wrapped my arms as far around him as I could.  I
buried my face in the fur covering his trunk, inhaling the rich, spicy
scent of him.
	His penis pushed into me and I realized there was an actual bone in
it.  Something I hadn't known before.
	I dropped to the floor, tugging at him.  He wrapped his body around
me, his fur tickling my back.  I laid my head on his forearm, while he
draped the other across me.  He wedged his muzzle under my ear, gently
wuffling into my beard.
	He was right.  It was safe and warm here.  And I dropped into
slumber.



	I was standing in a wooded area.  It wasn't at the cabin.  I knew
that from the salty scent carried upon the breeze.  I walked through the
trees until they opened up, revealing a cliff, overlooking the water.
Waves crashed against the jagged rocks far below, the briny spray filling
the air with the scent of the sea.
	The air was fresh and clean, unlike any I had ever experienced.  I
was filling my lungs with pleasure when a roar split the calm.
	I turned and from the woods lumbered an enormous bear.  It rose to
its hind feet, towering over me, snarling.
	I was caught between the bear and the cliff.  Its rank scent wafted
over me, luring me forward, step by slow step, to where its claws and fangs
awaited.



	I awoke with a start, my heart pounding.  For a panicked moment, I
was still there, entrapped in the beast's embrace.  But I realized the
furry body behind me was Paul.  I was painfully hard and in need.  I
turned, clutching at his fur, trying to pull myself closer to him.
	He growled sleepily, his claws patting carefully at my back.
	I needed him so bad I couldn't even articulate it and let out a
whimpering moan.  I ground against him, feeling his endowment rub against
me, its leaking fluid scalding my skin.  He pressed me to him, his paw
dropping to my ass, his claws cool to my fevered flesh.  My face rubbed in
his fur, finding a tit, sucking it into my mouth.



	I awoke sometime later with him turning toward me, clutching at my
fur.  I carefully stroked his back, my claws carefully tapping his flesh.
He kept pressing tighter to me, as if he wanted to climb within my skin.  I
gave a rumbling chuckle and groped his ass in my paws.  He let out a
piteous, mewling noise.  It was a familiar sound.  One he shouldn't yet be
able to make yet.
	He found a nipple buried in my fur and latched onto it like a
vacuum.  I chuckled and began shifting back to my human form.
	I pressed my lips against his forehead.
	"I want the bear in me," he grated, the urgent need clear in his
eyes.  He was trying to force my erection toward his crack.
	"Soon, my little cub, soon," I whispered, grabbing my cock and
pressing it against his hole.  "For now, you have to make do with the man
in you."
	He whimpered petulantly, then sighed as my dick followed the now
familiar path up his ass.
	"Don't worry," I reassured him, "I will always take care of you."



	We settled into a pretty good routine.  His needs would wake me up
in the morning.  At first he was hesitant about waking me to satisfy him.
The first morning I had found him in the bathroom, frantically pounding his
pud.  I ended up bending him over the sink, giving him what he really
needed.  I think I finally got it through to him that I was there to take
care of him on the time I awoke with him working my morning wood up his
ass.
	After a good fuck, or three, we'd whip up a good, hearty breakfast.
He was really putting away the food.  Don't know if he realized how much.
After cleaning up afterward, he would spend some time in his studio.  Often
I would join him, watching as he would try to capture his dreams.  I waited
for some flicker of what I had seen before, but he remained...himself.  If
Joe really was still within him, he gave no sign.  He worked away, happily,
answering all my inane questions with a smile.
	Afterward, I would take him downstairs and work him hard.  Make him
work out, I mean.  I gave in good naturedly when he insisted on wearing a
jock.  And only a jock.  With a grin, I decided to as well.  On that first
morning, I found out that all those weights down there weren't just for
looks.  He was already very strong.  I was hesitant about pushing him too
hard, but he kept stacking on the plates.  The smell of sweat filled the
room as we continued our workout.  I did have to admit, having his packed
pouch hanging over my face when he spotted me on the flat bench was very
nice, if distracting.  And when the mesh of my jock ground into his crack
as I helped him with squats, well, lets just say we got more use out of the
preacher bench than just curls.
	Most days, he'd have me try to spar with him.  Which usually
amounted to me holding the pads for him to attack.  As I'd seen before, he
was fast and agile, especially for someone his size.  When he'd want to
work on his defense, I couldn't even lay a hand on him.  Occasionally, I
could get him to wrestle with me.  I was usually able to pin him, but not
sure how much of it was through my own skill and how much was from him
wanting me to hold him down.
	I discovered something I had missed on my first visit down here.
He had a nice sized sauna and and open shower area at the end of the
gym/playroom.  Once the sauna heated up, we'd relax a while.  He'd usually
start massaging my shoulders, licking the sweat from my chest, pushing his
nose into my bush.  We'd end up in the shower, letting the hot water wash
away our sweat and cum.
	After a hearty lunch, we usually would go for a hike through the
woods.  It was private enough that we could go au natural.  He was actually
the one to suggest it.  Think he enjoyed the feel of the wind across his
skin, the enveloping caress of the lake, the sun on his back as he rode my
cock.
	I loved the way he moved through the woods.  For all his bulk, he
was strangely graceful.  When I'd try to get him to break into a faster
trot, he'd complain that he wasn't a runner, unless something was after
him.  So I'd lunge at him and he'd leap away with a laugh.  He might not be
a runner, but the boy could move.  I'd always end up catching him, though I
think it was more because he let me.
	In the evenings after supper, we would usually do the little things
that needed to be done around the house, then relax on the couch.  As the
evenings warmed, the fires stayed out, at least in the fireplace.  Often,
we would just sit and talk.  I told him stories that he would never find in
any of his history books.  From him, I learned more about his relatively
short, but complicated life.
	"So you were home schooled?" I asked.
	"Not...really.  Back then it was considered tutoring.  That was in
addition to our other school work.  I think my father wanted one of us to
take over the business after him.  My sister and I were both always well
above our peers.  We were constantly drilled on business protocols and
ethics.  Dad was a stickler for ethics.  At least where business was
concerned.  He always said if you treated your employees right, they'd do
right by you."
	"Sound like he was a smart man," I said approvingly.
	"Suppose he was.  Though I'll always think he was disappointed when
I came out."
	He was quiet for a long moment.
	"I think it wasn't necessarily that I was gay.  It was more about
wanting to pass the family business onto the next generation.  Suppose that
changed when my sister got married," he smiled ruefully.  "It did take some
of the pressure off of me, especially when she had the kids."
	A flash of pain crossed his face and I held him tight.  He smiled
gently at me, unshed tears shading his eyes.  Those eyes, so dark brown
they bordered on black told more about his mood than the rest of his face.
	"You've got such beautiful eyes," I said.
	"They're just brown," he said dismissively.  "The one way I wish I
had taken after my father was his eyes.  They were a clear, ice green.
Quite a striking look, especially with his dark hair."
	"Oh?" I said archly.
	"Nothing like that," he said, slapping my arm.
	"I happen to like your eyes the way they are," I said.
	"Thank you," he said, his cheeked glowing.
	"So what did you end up studying," I said, guiding him back to the
original conversation.
	"What didn't I study," he said with a lopsided smile.  "My sister
and I both had eidetic memories.  Once read, forever held," he said,
tapping the side of his head.
	"Wow!  That's incredible," I said, then saw the rueful look in his
eyes.  "It's it?"
	"Not necessarily.  Sometimes it's not good to be able to remember
everything in stark detail.  Think it's sometimes enough to make one a
little mad," he said with a sad smile.
	"What have I done?" I gasped.  I had memories of my long life, but
the thought of having every minute memory of what could be hundreds of
years appalled me.
	"You did nothing but love me.  You warned me.  I felt you were
worth the risk.  And besides, I've learned to deal with it.  Any way, who
knows if it will," he struggled for the right words, "Translate when I
change.  I rather doubt there's been any studies of how your brain changes
when you become a bear," he said in a teasing tone.
	"You would be right," he chuckled.  "Not all of us are dummy's, but
still doubt it."
	"Hey, I never said you were a dummy," he said, the hurt evident in
his tone.
	"I'm just teasing," I said squeezing him tightly.
	"Never think you're less than me," he said fiercely, returning my
embrace.
	"I have to ask you something," I said thoughtfully.  "Did you ever
seriously injure yourself as a child?"
	His eyes darkened for a moment.
	"What do you mean," he said evasively and his face froze.
	"Like broken a bone, that kind of thing," I said, wondering at his
expression.
	It went blank suddenly.  I had noticed him doing that before, but
never understood what happened to him when he did that, but now I assumed
he was...scanning through his memories.
	"Not...like that.  Actually, neither had my sister.  And trust me,
some of the trouble we'd get into," he said with a mischievous grin.
"There was one time we were fighting really bad, I hit her so hard I swore
I heard something crack.  Mom was so furious with me, but when we got to
the emergency room, there was nothing broken."
	He chuckled, lost in memory, unaware of my pensive thoughts.
	"Let's hit the sack," I said.
	"Okay," he replied.  "Maybe we'll even get some sleep."