Bear Virus: Chapter 7 - Coaching Tony's Daddy

Randall was getting restless. Tony had left the house about an hour ago, saying something about finding Bruce at a bar that Randall hadn’t recognized. Then again, Randall wasn’t good for much in the way of thinking--he could, at least, make himself a decent, high protein dinner in the kitchen, before returning to the living room and scarfing it down in front of the TV, watching porn, cock still aching for release. Most nights, this would have been good enough for him, but tonight, there was something squirming in his gut, in his head, something making him feel extra restless. 

It was difficult to attach a particular desire to it, but Randall knew it could only be one of two things that he wanted. After all, he wasn’t a very complicated fellow. He wanted to workout, or he wanted cum, or he wanted smoke--those were the three big ones. He had his pipe lit, and was happily chuffing on his second big bowl of the evening, so it wasn’t smoke. He’d already spent most of the day working out, so that probably wasn’t it either. That meant, he wanted some cum, but his own just wasn’t hitting the spot. He’d just have to go find some other cum instead.

He threw on his gym clothes from earlier in the day, only a bit dry from the cum and sweat he’d coated them with earlier, and was about to head for the door, when he heard a knock at the front door. Curious as to who it could be at this hour, he opened it up, and found Coach Meyer on the front stoop, smoking a pipe even larger than the one Randall had in his maw, and looking a little nervous. Looking like he needed something as badly as Randall did, and like he didn’t know what it was either. “Evenin’ Greg,” Randall said, “Something I can help ya with?”

“Yeah, is...Tony home? I...fuck, I don’t know how to say this, but I need to get fucked, bad, I think. He...I think he did something to me, but I...I need...”

“Fuck man, I was just thinkin’ ‘bout how I needed some fresh fuckin’ cum myself, but my boy ain’t here. Took off about an hour ago.”

“Where to?”

“Not sure. But why don’t ya come on in?”

Randall hauled Greg inside and kissed him, the coach a little surprised, but leaning into it naturally, feeling that odd itchy desire finally subsiding for the first time all afternoon. He’d been fucking himself with dildos and smoking his pipes for hours, shooting load after load, but he needed something else, someone else. Randall wasn’t quite right, but he’d do, in a pinch.

Randall shoved his pipe into Greg’s mouth. “Keep those both goin’,” he said, dropped to his knees, hauled down Greg’s sweats, and let out his soft, six inch cock. Not nearly as nice as his son’s, but Randall would make do with what he got. He took it in his mouth and sucked, but after a few minutes, it became rather clear that Greg wasn’t going to be getting hard for him, despite his attempts to do so.

Randall pulled himself free, and Greg looked down a bit sheepishly, “I...can usually only shoot if I’m getting fucked.”

“Well, Tony got all the fuckin’ genes in the family along with the smart ones. Plus I’ve shot so much today I’ve only been gettin’ half hard. I just need some fuckin’ cum man.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment.

“Got a dildo?” Greg asked, “I didn’t bring one.”

Randall shook his head.

“Fuck.” Greg said, “God, fuckin’ hell, I’m so fuckin’ horny, I can’t think straight.”

“Heh, no sweat bud, I can’t really think good at all,” Randall said, stood back up and kissed him again. “I’m sure you’ll come up with somethin’ for us to do, you’re a teacher ‘n all. Just tell me what tah do, ‘n I’ll do it.”

There was a little shudder between them, a little spark lighting among their sexual incompatibility. “Tony always said you were pretty slow,” Greg said, “You like being told what to do?”

Randall nodded. It was easier than thinking for himself, that much was certain.

“Take my smoke then,” Greg said, bent down, took a long draw off his pipe, and pushed it into Randall’s mouth. He inhaled, sucked down his smoke, and then let out a long exhale and moan at the same time, his cock twitching. “Looks like there’s a little life left in that spent cock of yours yet. Maybe enough to make you a bit of a service top, when your son’s not around to satisfy me.”

Greg stripped down, went over to the couch and put his legs up on the coffee table. “Warm up my hole with that tongue of yours.”

Randall crawled over, a little sexual thrill thrumming in his chest that he hadn’t quite expected. He ducked his hulking frame under one leg and shoved his bearded face into Greg’s crack, licking at his well lubed pucker, his tongue slipping inside.

“Fuck, I could get used to this, having a dumb muscle daddy ready and willing to service my hole at a moment’s notice,” Greg said, “I bet you like licking and sucking hole, don’t ya?”

“Fuck, I love rimmin’ hot grungy young muscle pigs like you, Sir,” Randall said.

Another shudder ran through them both, though this one was centered on Greg. He gave a moan on the couch, and lost another few years, regressing back to his mid thirties--a good ten years younger than Randall was now. At the same time, his muscular physique was expanding, growing thicker and larger on the couch, body heating up, making him feel a little nauseous even for a moment, as he packed on ten, then thirty, then fifty pounds of additional muscle, and a few more inches of height. He was by no means as large as Tony was, but Randall didn’t object. The young stud who’d knocked on his door smelled good and rank, his hole was hot and hairy, and Randall would be willing to do just about anything for him.

“How you doin’ down there Stud Daddy? That dick of yours hard yet? I know how a dirty boy hole makes that thing perk up properly.”

Randall reached down and sure enough, his previously soft cock was now rock hard. “Yes Sir, hard and ready to fuck.”

“Then get it in my hungry fuckin’ hole!”

“Yes Sir!”

Randall stood up, pushed the head of his cock against Greg’s hole, and slipped right in, nice and easy. Almost too easy. It’s not so much that Randall was that small, his eight inch cock put most regular men to shame, but Greg had become accustomed to certain fullness, after an afternoon with his big dildos that Randall’s cock wasn’t properly filling. He felt that itch coming back, that need he couldn’t quite explain, a listless frustration. “Harder! I wanna feel that huge cock of yours deep in my guts!”

Randall gave a little surprised grunt, and felt his cock swell inside Greg’s hole, and the young man moaned on the couch.

“Fuck, that’s more like it. So fuckin’ big. No wonder you’re so fuckin’ dumb, all your blood ends up in that huge cock of yours. Probably can’t even talk when you’re properly hard--and you’re probably hard almost all the time. Just a horny, hard, stinking stud, waiting around for another hole to show up for you to plow, since that’s about all you’re good for.”

Randall felt his head slowing down further, as his cock grew even larger. It sure did feel good to fuck though, good to have his massive cock in a hole, right where it belonged, and Sir Greg’s hole was heaven. Clearly he was doing something right, because Greg wasn’t talking anymore, just lying back on the couch, sucking on his big pipe moaning and grunting, his own cock hard as a rock and jutting up towards Randall’s face, precum spewing from the head. Randall bent down and licked some of it up, relishing the taste, and then kept fucking, harder now, eager to make Greg cum so he could guzzle down all of his sweet cum. Greg wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked it, and it wasn’t long before a massive load erupted from the head, Randall pushing his head down as close as he could get, drinking like at a water fountain as the cum jetted up in an arc, much of it landing in Randall’s beard. 

He stopped for a moment to scoop up what he could and eat it, and Greg growled, “Did I say you could stop fuckin’ studmeat?”

“No Sir!” Randall growled, and resumed fucking, rougher and harder now.

“That’s right. You’re not done until I say you’re fucking done. All my sweet load will be there for you to lick up when I’m through with you. If you wanna eat it before it dries, you’d better fuck me harder--I still have a load or two I could add to that one.”

Randall did fuck him harder, and over the next hour or so, he got two more loads out of him, a bit smaller than the first, but still gushers. By now, both of their pipes had burnt out, but they weren’t willing to interrupt the sex to light them again. Randall had been on the edge of his own orgasm for ages now, but couldn’t seem to push himself over the edge. He...needed Greg to tell him what to do, he needed permission to cum, he realized. After all, a service top like him couldn’t finish until the bottom was fully satisfied. So he fucked, and fucked, and fucked, and finally, Greg ordered him to cum. He roared, drove in deep, and they could both feel his load spraying out and coating Greg’s guts on the inside, shuddering and shaking with the exertion of their marathon session.

His task completed, Randall hauled his cock free, still drooling, got down and started cleaning up all the puddles of Greg’s cum that he could find, focusing on the ones that seemed to be the most dry. Then, at Greg’s order, he got down and cleaned out the young muscle man’s hole, scooping out his own cum with his tongue and swallowing down as much of that as he could as well.

Greg sat up on the couch, leaned in and licked up some cum Randall had missed from his beard, and then gave the older fellow a smoky kiss. “That was real good work, you fuckin’ stud daddy.”

“Fuck Sir, for your sweet hole, I’d do just about anything.”

“Get up here. Relight our pipes, and then clean out my pits and relax for a bit. Maybe in a little while we can have a second round, eh? I bet that big dumb cock of yours would like that, wouldn’t it?”

Randall gave a little grunt, got up and shoved his face into Greg’s hairy pit, while he packed one pipe, and then the other. It wasn’t long before Greg’s hole was feeling hungry again, and Randall’s now insatiable cock was hard and ready for another round. This time, they took it upstairs to the bedroom, where they could be a bit more comfortable. Randall had a fleeting thought about his son, mostly wishing he was there to play with them too, before his cock got hard enough that his brain slowed down again, letting Greg haul him along upstairs for another marathon fuck.