Poppa's Cub

Chapter Five

Sunday, August 25th, 1985

Kyle felt the warmth under him as he fluttered, waking early on this day. He had a broad, bright smile, for today was special.

He felt the ruffle of Mike's callused hand, and wondered how he always knew that Kyle was awake. Softly he moved up the dark mat of chest fur and curled under his chin.

"Hey," Mike said. "Happy birthday."

He leaned down softly and laid a kiss onto Kyle's forehead.

Kyle leaned up and softly licked at the big man's lips.

Mike kissed back, softly chewing on Kyle's lips, nursing on them ever so tenderly.

Kyle's eyes closed, lost in the passion.

Mike's tongue slipped into Kyle's mouth, felt the pastiness of the unwashed mouth.

Kyle grunted softly sucking on the tongue, moving his head ever so slowly, back and forth. He felt Mike's member go from a flaccid state to a semi-erect state. This of course caused his own arousal to begin to form.

So Kyle, you all ready for your big day?" Mike said, whispering tenderly.

Kyle nodded, "I really don't think it'll be a big deal. I just want to have a couple of beers down at the bar."

It's a Sunday, so it's going to be pretty quiet. Free pool all day. We'll have a couple pitchers, maybe go out into the garden."

Garden?" Kyle asked.

It's, kind of like the arcade. Guys go in the back, and, do the rumba," Mike smiled at him.

Kyle bit his lips and had an odd look.

Mike sensed trepidation.

"What's on your mind," He asked.

"I'm not sure about the garden part," Kyle said.

"Nobody says you have to do anything. This time of the day it'll be dead, we'll be the only ones there anyway. Maybe Frankie stroking somebody, but that's about it."

Kyle had something on his mind, and asked, "Do you want to be with anybody else?"

"No," Mike said quickly.

"So why go there?" Kyle replied.

"I don't want to inhibit you," Mike said.

"I'm not inhibited. Don't treat me like a child, I'm an adult, and I'm making adult decisions. I'm happy with our life. I don't need to see more. I get enough of that just hanging out with Darla."

Mike laughed briefly, and then became serious.

"I have never thought of you as anything but an adult," he said quietly, almost sternly. "I never will. If you don't want to go into the garden, you don't have to. However, you must admit you do have a slight exhibitionist streak in you."

"One time, one time in the park, and you call me an exhibitionist," Kyle protested.

Mike bear hugged him, pulling him to look directly into his eyes.

"Tell me it didn't turn you on. You were the one that crawled under the picnic table."

"You were the one that threw the Frisbee under it," Kyle pleaded, turning scarlet.

"I just happened to sit there while you were getting it. I was innocent." Mike said, attempting to shift the direction of the conversation.

"Liar. I was under there and you..."

Mike at this point was roaring with laughter.

Kyle was bright red, and his cock was rock-hard.

"I can feel your dick," Mike said. "You liked it and you know it, you little cocksucker."

Kyle laid his burning face on Mike's chest.

He had loved it. He loved being on his knees.

He loved the thrill, in mid-day.

He loved the freshly washed scent of Mike's dick in his mouth.

When he came up, Darla had chastised them both, and he loved the humiliation.

Softly Mike stroked at Kyle's dick.

"Make you a deal," Mike offered.

Kyle tilted his head.

"Let me take you into the garden, with the understanding that if anything does happen, it'll be between you and me. Fair?"

Kyle nodded emphatically, and felt much better.

"Besides, it's no fun if I can't give you a spanking on your birthday." Mike whispered.

Kyle's eyes popped open.

His mouth went dry.

A couple of times, Mike had swatted him, but nothing ever serious. Mike knew it was a sure fire way to arouse Kyle, and get him ready for a good solid fucking, something that Kyle was still getting used to.

Kyle shivered ever so softly, and Mike tenderly combed his hair with his big, strong fingers.

"Kyle, are you okay?" Mike asked. The level of concern in his voice was high.

"Yeah, I'm just sort of thinking about that spanking bit," he admitted.

Without warning, Mike's other paw slapped his butt. It stung only mildly, and made Kyle shiver. It was the right sort of swat, the kind that brought stimulation, and only the hint of real pain.

Kyle's excitement betrayed him and his penis throbbed.

Mike's hand went down to rub his tool softly, teasingly.

"Would you like a spanking, birthday boy, Hm?" He said, softly stroking Kyle's hair. "One for each year of your life."

Kyle quivered, more from the emotional issues than the physical ones. What was happening to him? Why did he have these needs? It was scary, frightening. Mike was his Rock of Gibraltar and teacher. He challenged his boundaries and made him feel safe.

Kyle rolled off the bed and sat up. He was misty-eyed.

Mike's pulse pounded and he turned toward him.

Kyle nodded, and turned toward the side.

"I, I... would like that. But I'm scared."

Mike moved catlike, from being lover to being friend. He put a big bearish arm around his shoulder.

"Say no," He prompted. "You know I'll respect you. Always."

"That's not an issue," Kyle said. "I'm scared. There's a part of me that knows I'll like it, and there's a part of me that's scared what's past that part."

"Do you see then, why I worry about inhibiting you? There's a huge world of sexuality to explore."

"Which is all the more reason I need to stick with you," Kyle said. "You'll stop. What if other people don't."

Mike took a deep breath.

"I can't argue with that logic," He said.

The two men sat on the edge of the queen bed, the Hollywood frame sagging slightly under their combined weight at one point.

"Kyle, I have something I have to tell you. Something important, that we haven't discussed. I have been wrestling with it for a while now, and I had to make sure it was something that I felt both you and I could handle."

Kyle shivered, slightly with fear.

Mike reached out his massive paw, tugged onto his chin, and looked him directly into the eye. A single tear was coming off his aged, lined face.

"I love you," He said.

Kyle burst into tears, sobbing with relief and happiness, and Mike broke down as well. They lay in the bed and cried together, gently.

The power of the emotions was tiring, and they dozed gently until Kyle's cell phone rang.

Mike's eyes opened as Kyle groaned.

"It's for you," Mike said.

RING

"How do you know?" Kyle said.

RING

"It's your mother," Mike said.

RING

"Oh, god," Kyle said.

RING

Mike picked up the phone and held it out, as Kyle's mother started to scream, ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY' at the top of her lungs at him, singing horribly off key.

Followed by the song was a stream of mostly one-way babbling, she thought he was going away, he explained they were just getting ready to leave.

"We? Who is this we? Are you with that harlot that leaves the big things on your neck and the dog with the fleas? Oy! Boy what am I to do with you? Does this slut have a name? Why don't you go to temple, find a nice JEWISH girl, like your brother."

Mike made a barking noise.

Kyle softly made a swiping motion at his face, his nails grazing his cheek, a sensation that Mike enjoyed immensely.

His mother babbled more, and more. She was in a serious mood, it being his birthday and all. Her baby was turning twenty-one, and he'd be out drinking tonight, and whoring around.

Mike on the other hand maneuvered down to the end of the bed, attempting to appear innocent. He stretched his arms out, and rubbed his neck. He turned back to look at Kyle and then decided to become evil.

A quick pounce found Kyle's flaccid penis in his mouth, which he hungrily sucked upon, nearly drawing his entire scrotum in as well.

Kyle gasped, he shook his hand at Mike.

"Hey, wait," He yelped.

"What? What is that? Wait, wait for what? I will be old in the grave when you get good Jewish girl, you know that? Oy! You are such a schmuck, you know that!"

Kyle became erect in Mikes mouth, and felt utterly confused.

He put his hand over the phone and said, "Quit that."

Mike unsuccessfully tried to look contrite, and withdrew his mouth, but kept his hand softly stroking. Kyle shot him a dirty look.

"Ma, we're getting ready to go. Serious, I've got to go. I love you, give my best to dad, and thank him for the nice birthday presents, Shalom." He said. The moment he heard her say that she loved him, the disconnected.

"I am SO going to kill you!" He cried, and began to tickle Mike mercilessly.

The big man was soon reduced to a pile of giggles and snickers until he bodily restrained Kyle, which was no easy task.

Softly, they kissed.

Their kissing became feverish, passioned lips rubbing against each other hungrily, and, without discussion, Mike climbed upon Kyle, and leaned over him lengthwise so they might engage in a sixty-nine.

Mouths hungrily found hot, fleshy dicks, and lips wrapped around cockheads. Kyle softly lubricated a finger of his and slipped it into Mike's furry ass, knowing the big man's passion for anal play.

Not to be undone, Mike slipped his smallest finger into Kyle's hole, wetting it only with his saliva. Kyle winced a bit, and unclenched his ass.

Mike softly rocked his hips, tenderly face-fucking Kyle as the big man was able to deep throat his younger partner's tool without difficulty.

Kyle had to use his hand to somewhat hold onto Mike's tool, stroking it's base in time to the fucking, pulsing the hand softly, feeling the precum draining into his mouth.

Both men pumped into each other, the stimulus was incredible, and within a few moments of each other fired thick, salty loads of sperm into each other's mouth.

Kyle was still not used to swallowing and had to pull Mike's tool off him, gasp for air and then chunk it down. Then he happily rubbed Mike's tool on his lips and licked the additional dregs of cum off his cock head.

Mike gulped Kyle's jism hungrily, as if he were a starving man.

Kyle gasped and had to roll away, panting heavily. He winced again as Mike's finger worked it's way out.

Softly they rolled toward each other and tenderly kissed.

"I love you, too." Kyle said.

Mike nosed him softly, and did need to hear that.

After a hot shower, a trim for Kyle's budding goatee, and a fellow grooming for Mike's beard found them at the table by the sink. Mike was making waffles for Kyle's birthday breakfast.

Mike's four photos looked at them. Kyle now knew all the people in Mike's squad by name, including Darla's male name, which he had been sworn to secrecy about.

The Naugahyde chairs had been draped with towels and neither man found the need to wear clothing. Kyle hadn't quite moved in, but had started buying the weekend fish-feeder tablets most every Friday.

"Oh," Mike said. "Don't bother getting dressed. That's my job today."

Kyle's eyebrows cocked.

"I happen to have your birthday presents."

Kyle's eyes glittered.

"Oh, really?" He said.

Mike nodded slyly.

"Took me a while to get it all together. I had to go through your wardrobe a couple of times to get it right," He said.

"Clothes?" Kyle said.

"Well, sort of. Let's just say these aren't clothes you'd get from your mother," Mike retorted.

Kyle had produced a box last night that his mother had given him, some sort of hideous purple, paisley and striped shirt. It contained a card with an obscene amount of money in it, and Mike had been unsure which had upset him more.

Mike would say nothing more, instead deftly dodging the topic and plying Kyle with waffles.

Kyle ate, and ate until he was full, and then some.

Mike passed him the Sunday comics from both the Colombian and the Oregonian. Mike smiled gleefully as the morning passed, and about elevenish, he asked Kyle, "You ‘bout ready?"

Kyle replied by tickling under Mike's armpits.

"Hey, hey, now. Cubs that do that don't get their birthday presents," he said.

Kyle stopped, this was the first time that Mike had ever referred to him as a cub.

"Cub?" He asked.

Mike stood, his six-foot, thick frame loomed over the seated Kyle.

"In many subcultures an older, dominant, furry, fat man is called a Bear. Often times, bears will have younger partners, and they are called cubs. You're my cub," He said.

Kyle raised an eyebrow and let it sink in. A sort of smile formed as it did. He nodded slightly, and felt the emotional warmth of the connection.

Mike padded over to the bed and reached under, pulling open a box. He opened the top, fished into a plastic sack, and pulled out a pair of wool socks, and a white T-shirt. In the top left of the shirt was a black paw-print, and in small white lowercase type it read, ‘cub'. These he threw at Kyle.

"Put those on, cub." He said.

Kyle caught them, and did as he was told. He had to admit that he was expecting something a bit more for his birthday, but said nothing.

"Now get your cute little butt over here."

Kyle grinned at this part and stood in front of him, trying to see in the box.

"Shut those eyes, cub."

Kyle looked at him, and saw Mike's wrinkled face smile warmly. He shut his eyes.

Kyle felt the rustling of paper and movement of something. He heard the sound of zippers.

"Sit," Mike said.

Kyle felt for the bed and sat down, nearly tripping on the box.

Mike got down at his feet and slowly put them into the leather trousers. The crotch had a zipper that went from the front all the way under the groin and up to the back waistband. It had been zipped, so Kyle did not feel the potential for draft.

Mike then pulled out the boots. They were identical to his own, other than being brand new. Stenciled into the outside of each was the name, "Kyle". He fitted them onto Kyle's feet and laced them strongly.

"Alright then. Stand up, Cub."

Kyle stood, wobbling a touch in the inch heeled docs.

Mike smiled. His erection was reforming himself, and quickly her pulled on his own boots, zip-lined pants and a T-shirt that had a similar paw circle, on the right side. It read, "Poppa Bear". The T-shirts Mike got from a vendor at Portland Pride while Kyle was at his father's house for father's day.

To this ensemble, Mike placed upon his own, and on Kyle's head leather caps, of a military nature. Other than the larger stomach, Mike could have been a model for a character out of Tom of Finland.

Kyle shivered, his manhood straining against the leathers.

Mike softly marched him into the bathroom, and closed the door. Behind it was a full-length mirror. To see Kyle like this did things for him.

"Open," he whispered.

Kyle's jaw dropped.

"My cub," Mike said. "Welcome to my world."

Kyle looked at himself in the leather pants, the white T-shirt, and then saw the zipper.

He reached down for it, and as he did, Mike reached behind him, and grabbed the rear entry zipper and pulled it down.

Kyle's eyes bugged out as Mike put a hand on his bare bottom.

His eyes glazed and then Mike zipped him up.

"One last item," Mike instructed.

Kyle looked at him.

Mike lead him into the front room, and opened up the coat closet. He handed Kyle a burly leather coat.

"August is hot for this sort of thing, but no cub of mine rides on my bike without protection," he growled.

Kyle put it on. He felt the power of the animal that it took to make it, his nostrils flared.

Mike slipped behind him and whispered into his ear:

"Let us understand something, as a cub, a submissive, I have only the power you grant me. I will never violate the trust you give me, nor would I betray the love you have given me freely. I will be your poppa, your friend, your lover. In time, your mate. If you say you don't want a spanking, you don't want to suck a cock, then it ends there. Period. That is respect. That is what I owe you, as my friend."

Kyle cried softly and fell into his arms.

Mike held him tightly and softly ran his lips into the corner of his eye where the tear duct was. The tip of the tongue tasted the salty tears.

Kyle took deep breaths.

"I have never felt anything like I do with you. It's more than sex, it's more than friendship. I may have loved before, but I haven't loved like this. Is this what gay love is?"

"I'm not sure it's an issue of homosexuality, honestly. Our relationship is about power, and the exchange of it. It's about layers and levels of trust. I know of heterosexual players who have our type of love, as deep."

"Players?" Kyle asked.

"It's a slang term. People who are involved in BDSM, often they calm themselves players. It's something deeper than mere sexuality. When you love in levels of power, and in trust of this nature it's transcending. At least I have found that to be the case."

"Is this like when I fuck you? You love it."

"Precisely. I am a very masculine man. I am a former phoenix force member. I have a master's degree in psychology. I am fortunate to have you as a lover, and yet, I have needs that few men have. When you mount me, when you spread my legs and slip your cock into me, it allows me to trust. Nothing else will do. Nothing is as fulfilling as trust."

Kyle nodded and they sat on the bed for a time, holding hands.

Mike had set the clock radio for noon, and Portland's Classic Rock station, KGON snapped on.

Freddie Mercury's cool slick voice played out:

"...this is, a kind, of magic..."