Mussing Fur and Musings
Here's my first porn story! Despite being porn, it's rather serious to me, as it serves as both an introduction to a character who is important to me, as well as character exploration for who he is now. As you can see, he's got a bit of baggage, but hopefully things will work out!
The thumbnail was done for me by hotoshuken on furaffinity as a commission when I got Berthold's design done.
Mussing Fur and Musings
"I need one more," I whispered into the polar bear's ear, leaning over him as I dragged the blunt claws of my right paw lightly over his recovering erection. "Let us go again."
Jasper, I thought that was his name, rumbled deep in his large chest. "Are all Swedish this eager?"
I made to straddle him, my fairly large form not incredibly graceful as I bunched my paw in the fur of his sternum, a smile on my black-furred muzzle that Jasper would see only due to the light from my alarm clock. "I would not know; I am Norwegian." Leaning forward, I planted a kiss between the bright blue eyes that matched one of my own; he crossed them to watch my muzzle's approach while angling his thick cock to spear my ass when I sat back.
Jasper let out a loud growl as I took his entire length in one go, and I grinned once more in both pleasure and pride. Of course, I'd had enough practice with him forcing those eight-and-a-half inches inside me fifteen minutes previously, so I hadn't yet reached the point where I needed copious amounts of spreading and lubricant again.
"You are very handsome," I whispered down to Jasper. I didn't think he heard me so I felt no shame in how my slight intoxication was letting my accent come through, enunciating every word thoroughly; the bear was busy gritting his impressive teeth and thrusting inside me as I rode atop him.
My own boner ached and bobbed in its arousal as I rode Jasper. My knot was full and engorged, and I was beginning to pant. I could feel that I'd soon come again. With a particularly slow and grinding descent, I took Jasper's large paws in my own, placing them on my cock, smiling as he opened his eyes.
"Squeeze the knot," I instructed as I levered myself up from his lap slowly. "Jerk the shaft."
Jasper grunted, looking up at me with a grin on his face. "Believe me, I know how to jack a cock, even a wolf's." With that, he began to stroke me with vigor, pulling a loud groan from my throat as I bounced upon him.
"Just as you know how to suck one?" I asked him, teasingly. When we had first entered the apartment, he'd barely let me lock the front door before all but engulfing my not-unimpressive member.
"But of course."
Jasper continued to pound inside me and I let out throaty moans as I rode him, each stroke mashing my prostate and sending a tingle of ecstasy through my already throbbing dick. Jasper's hot paws turned me into jelly, all I could do was thrust forward and in turn bounce actively on the polar bear's cock. The minutes passed, filled with the sound of flesh slapping flesh and carnal moaning, but eventually I could no longer refrain from finishing.
Jasper's thrusting was becoming frantic, as were his growls as I gripped his chest fur for dear life, signaling that he too was nearing the end. The polar bear's large paws had no little part in my rapturous torture, which along with a particularly denting thrust of Jasper's hips pushed my orgasm from my balls in long spurts that were lost in the dark.
Jasper's paw was tight around my knot, his fingers forming a ring around the tip of my cock while he teased me, drawing a loud, prolonged groan from between my clenched teeth due to the pleasing burn of overstimulation around my tip.
Eventually Jasper's thrusting came to a cease and he signaled the end of his orgasm with a loud sigh, still using my dribbling semen to tease my cock and cause me to squirm. I endured his devilish game for a few moments longer before wriggling off of him and onto the twin-sized mattress.
"You came on my face, valp," Jasper said, rolling onto his side to look at my shimmering eyes in the dark, poking my fairly-muscled stomach with a large paw. "You got a lot of reach with that one."
I chuckled, propping myself on my elbow to lick across his face in search of the offending wolf jizz. It took a bit, and every swipe of my tongue was punctuated by a surprised grunt of the man beside me, but eventually I ran a long wipe from jowl to eyebrow and tasted no more of the bitter fluids. "'Valp' is also Swedish. Where did you hear that one?"
"Internet, probably."
I kissed Jasper full on the lips; he hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth to permit my tongue entrance. We lay there mouth to mouth, flush against each other for minutes, my paw grasping his spent cock while his fingers combed through my fur, and I was content.
Eventually, we fell asleep.
I awoke to an empty bed when my alarm sounded at 10:45 the next morning. Being a college student, I wasn't surprised by the polar bear's absence considering the possibility of him having classes to attend. Despite this knowledge, though, I was still disappointed by the idea that he would leave without a word.
I sighed as I stood and looked about the room. Half-finished paintings sat against the wall beneath the window, many of them depicting the same subject; if I were inclined to look, I could see the painting of Damian I'd halfheartedly hid poking from behind my bed. However, instead of looking towards the headboard, I walked to the center of the room and retrieved my underwear from where they'd been left during the excitement of last night.
After arranging myself in my boxer briefs, pushing aside the memory of Damian buying them for me, I made my way down the hall into my large living room and found myself tripping over my own paws in surprise as I entered the bright room. Standing half dressed in the sparsely decorated room with his back to me, Jasper stood inspecting one of my finished paintings, though I couldn't see which from where I stood.
The polar bear turned to behold me, and I felt oddly naked, as though his paws hadn't held and caressed and molested me just the night before. "These paintings are amazing, Berthold," his voice awe-stricken.
"You're still here," I replied dumbly.
"Ha, yeah. I wouldn't have left without telling you." Jasper approached me, opening his arms to invite me into his embrace. "And I'm serious, I've never actually known someone who could paint like this!"
I felt warmth blossom inside me as he squeezed me and my tail began to wag. I then peeked over his shoulder and realized which painting he'd been looking at. I mumbled, "They aren't that special."
Jasper apparently was not one to take sit by while I derived from my own accomplishments, though.
"Look at this!" He said, pointing to the canvas propped on the chair at the breakfast bar, depicting a messy-furred wolf watching the sun rise. "This wolf is so realistic! You can't even see his face, but there's so much emotion to be gathered from the environment and atmosphere!"
The bear crossed the room to another painting that sat against the wall with numerous others beside the unused television, one with the same wolf sitting at the end of a pier. "And this one; he's naked, but the fur is so realistic you can feel the breeze in his fur."
Jasper didn't know that the wolf's fur was mussed whether the wind blew or not, but I wouldn't correct him. Instead, I stood in my boxer briefs as the bear praised all of the too-many paintings which I'd used my memories of Damian, as well as my imagination, to paint.
Eventually the two of us sat on the couch, Jasper's arm wrapped around me and my head against his chest, while coffee brewed in the kitchen. Again, I found myself more comfortable than I had been in a long time, and again it was because I was in this bear's arms.
The quiet did not last, and Jasper asked the question I had been waiting for. "So who is he?" The other part of the question was implied, but Jasper didn't need to voice it. He knew that I would understand his meaning just as well as I could guess why he'd assume so in the first place.
I didn't want to answer, and I knew I didn't have to, but the bear was genuinely curious, and with so many paintings of the wolf around, it was an inevitable question. It deserved an answer. "He's a friend. A very good friend."
"Just a friend?" Jasper pressed. His curiosity made me warm in my chest.
I raised my head without removing it from the warmth of his bare pectoral and looked at him from one eye. "My best friend. I almost ruined it, though."
The polar bear held my gaze with his piercing blue eyes. "But you didn't?"
"No."
Jasper smiled at me before ruffling the fur of my head, and despite myself, I smiled back. "Good, I'm glad. It's good to have a muse."