Damn, the sight of him, sprawled on that mossy rock, was a feast for every dirty thought in my head. A big, burly bear of a man, with a gut that spoke of too many honeypots but just enough to make my dick twitch. His chest was a thick carpet, with nipples like ripe berries begging to be sucked, poking through like they were trying to flag me down.
And his bush! Jesus, it was like it had its own ecosystem, wild and untamed, with that monstrous cock nestled in the middle like some fleshy snake dozing in the undergrowth. That dick of his, uncut and oozing thick pre-cum, it was a sin just waiting to happen.
I tread lightly, like I'm trying to steal fire from the gods. One fucking twig snap and this wet dream would vanish. The sound of the jungle wrapped around us. There's something about the air here—it's heavy with heat and the musk of sleep-sweat—and I'm just dying to wade into it, to lick the salt off his skin.
I brandish my OhMenFlex, sneaking one shot. The camera knows its job, hungrily swallowing all the sleaze of this sleeping god: the heft of his balls, the stickiness around his cock, the humidity every lickable inch of him is bathed in.
I could stand here forever, just watching him breathe, the rise and fall of that hairy belly. I imagine him on the edge of a dream, maybe a nightmare where he's chasing and fucking and being fucked. Yeah, my bear's on the hunt in his sleep, and I'm about to join him, make that fantasy a fucking reality.
He groans, a low, guttural sound that could either be pleasure or the prelude to waking up. But I gamble it, creeping closer, camera down now 'cause I want to feel everything firsthand. My heart's thumping like a drum circle, loud in my own ears, animating my craven desires.
And right before I can taste him on my tongue, his eyes flutter open—fuck, like he's been waiting for me all along. There’s no fear, just that cock growing thicker, longer, inviting me into his dream. Looks like I’m about to become part of the bear's lair, and I’ll document every goddamn second.