Bear Virus: Chapter 2 - Pipe Coach

Oh hey, it's Tuesday! It's story time! I left you all hanging for a month, I'm so sorry...

***

Tony spent a bit of time getting to know his own body, before anything else. He laid down on his bed, lifted up one of his muscular arms and took a long whiff of his scent, noticing how much stronger it had become after just two changes--his own, and Bruce’s. So much had changed, it was difficult to even process it all at once. Things that had happened one way before, were now impossible. Bruce, for example, was his boyfriend, but now several years older than he was. They couldn’t have gone to school together, but then he found it hard to even remember how the two of them had met. After some thought, it came to him, like reality unfolding around him. Tony was friends with Bruce’s younger brother Oliver, in the grade below him, and had met Bruce that way, now. It was enough to give him a headache, though nothing so bad as what he’d felt the first time he’d changed, when he’d felt so damn sick. 

Now though, as reality slid into place around him, Tony felt some doubts creep in around his earlier excitement. Sure, he was everything he’d wanted to be earlier that day, but FormCaster had seemed really worried about the possible ramifications of this. As much fun as it would be to go around town, leaving a trail of bears behind him, he didn’t know what kind of consequences there could be. He didn’t even know if Bruce was contagious or not, and he’d just let him leave without even telling him what was going on at all. He knew the bar where Bruce worked of course, and if he was fast, maybe he could catch up to him, but even as the worries grew, there was something else inside him, starting to gnaw at him.

He didn’t...feel good. There was a tickle in his throat, the beginning of a cough. He felt a little feverish, a bit nauseous too. It felt like he was getting sick all over again. The one odd symptom out was that he was horny as hell--just catching a whiff of his pits earlier, and running his hands down his hairy, muscular form was enough to get his cock rock hard, and it wasn’t lowering at all. He wanted sex, sure, but that wasn’t the feeling in his gut--he wanted to change someone else. He needed it, needed to...spread it, further. Maybe it was the virus talking, the magic, trying to propagate itself, or maybe it was just convenient for him and his own desires--it hardly mattered. His dad would be home in a few hours, so Tony thought he could wait that long, but as the minutes wore on, it became more and more clear that the symptoms were getting stronger--not the flu-like ones, really, but the horniness. If a man walked in the room, he didn’t think he’d be able to contain himself. He needed someone to change, and he needed it now.

He got up from his bed and threw on some clothes from the floor--some smelly old gym clothes really, but they would do. He went downstairs and paced in front of the door for a few minutes, still not sure what he was going to do, or where he was going to go. He couldn’t just pull some guy in off the street--well, he could, but that didn’t seem right, somehow. After a little more thought, he realized that he knew just who to see--and now that school was out for the day, he knew just where to find him. He headed out the door and hit the sidewalk, cock bulging in the front of his nylon shorts, already eager for what he had planned.

Coach Meyer was one of the football coaches on the team Tony was now a star player for, and he lived a couple of streets over from him in the same development. He was single, didn’t have any kids of his own, and was now in his fifties--a bit past his prime, but a very knowledgeable coach. Tony though, could remember more than a few longing glances the coach had made at him, especially once the rest of the school had heard about him dating Oliver’s older brother. Tony had always had a thing for the coach too, though he’d never made any effort to approach him. The thing that had always intrigued Tony about the coach most was his smoking habit--Coach Meyer loved tobacco pipes. Even though he wasn’t supposed to, he’d often smoke outside during practice, and the sweet, earthy smell of his tobacco always made Tony a bit horny. There was just something about pipes and cigars he liked, though he’d never tried them himself. Today, though, was a good day to try new things.

Sure enough, five minutes later, he found his coach out on his porch, out of his school gear, sitting and smoking one of his pipes, enjoying the Spring afternoon. Tony slowed down to a walk, gave a wave, and then headed through the gate up to the porch to say hello.

“Hey Tony, looks like you’re feeling better,” the coach said, “Heard you were out sick today.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better,” Tony said. “How are you doing, Coach?” Tony was tall enough that his crotch came to about eye height with where Meyer was sitting, and the older man didn’t look up from the bulge pointing right at him for a moment or two. 

“Oh, uh, I’m doing fine, just relaxing from the day.”

“You know, I’ve always been a bit curious about your pipes...does it taste as good as it smells?”

The coach chuckled, “No, not quite. You...want to try it?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Tony said.

The coach handed Tony the pipe he was smoking, and coached him through it, telling him to not inhale, just take in some of the smoke, taste it, and exhale it. Tony managed to do it without coughing, though it certainly made his throat tickle and his head spin slightly. He took another suck off the pipe, a little more this time, held it a little longer, and then exhaled. “You’re right, it doesn’t taste like it at all, but it’s not...bad.” Tony went to hand the pipe back to his coach, but he shook his head.

“You go ahead and smoke that one, I’ll pack another inside,” he said and stood up.

“You don’t have to do that, coach,” Tony said.

“”No, it’s fine! I can show you how to pack one another day, but you shouldn’t be smoking that much after you’re sick. You can just call me Greg by the way, I’m not really your coach anymore, since you’ll be graduating soon anyway.”

Greg stood up, had Tony sit down where he’d been, and went inside. The older fellow’s cock was rock hard, and he needed to take a moment to collect himself. He’d been fantasizing about having his way with Tony for years now, and now he’d just walked right up and started smoking his pipe! Hands shaking a bit, he managed to get a pipe packed from his stash, picked up a pipe lighter, turned around and found Tony standing there in his living room, still smoking his pipe like a natural, a slight smirk across his face. The young man had lost his shirt at some point. He walked closer, took the lighter from Greg’s hand, and held it while the older man lit his pipe--and the next thing he knew, the two of them were swapping mouthfuls, and then lungfuls of smoke, while they felt up each other’s bodies. 

“Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Greg said.

“Like you said, you aren’t really my coach anymore anyway,” Tony said, “I know how much you’ve wanted me.”

Greg had always been more of a dominant sort of character in bed with men, but for some reason, between his head spinning and the musk rolling off of Tony’s body, he found himself bent over the side of the couch, shorts down around his ankles, with Tony behind him, still chuffing on his pipe, running his cock up and down Greg’s crack. His head was spinning more and more, building to a headache, and a bunch of nausea, like he’d smoked more than he should have. He tried to tell Tony he needed a moment to collect himself, but Tony just laid a hand on the small of his back, and put the head of his cock against the coach’s hole.

“You want me to stop now? You sure?”

“Fuck, I feel...what the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Just breathe in that smoke, bud, you’ll feel great in a moment, I promise.”

“Fuck--Fuck me boy, fuck me...”

Tony didn’t need to be told twice--he slipped inside the coach’s hole--it started out tight, but after a couple of thrusts, he relaxed and loosened up like a natural bottom. Tony could see other changes spreading across the coach’s body as well. He was a hairy fellow already, but more was filling in across his back--and not the silvery color it had been. Now it was a deep brown with just a few flecks of gray, running down his whole back and his ass as well, down his legs to his ankles. He was moaning, confused and a little addled as the virus ravaged his mind, and his reality, and Tony felt a headache of his own grow as new memories filled their way in. He and Coach Meyer had been smoking and fucking together now for years, pretty much since the first time they’d laid eyes on each other in the locker room, both hard as a rock. They’d done their best to keep it secret and professional, but the truth was, the coach would do almost anything for the his stud player’s cock. He was a raging bottom now, and not afraid to admit it. Tony was getting closer to shooting his load, and he came with a roar, flooding the coach’s ass with a huge load of cum, before sliding his cock free and feeling it slap against his thigh. He looked down at the ten inch monster, thicker than a beercan, and just boggled at it, until Greg caught his attention.

“Get a dildo, finish me off fucker, come on,” Greg said, looking back over his shoulder. His clean shaven face was gone, replaced by an inch long beard, though his head was now shaven smooth. He’d lost a little weight in the face, and in the gut, as his musculature had thickened up. Over all, he looked about a decade younger than he’d been--and the pipe he’d been smoking had doubled in size, a massive magnum pipe clutched in his muscular jaw, smoke pouring from his mouth and nose.

Tony looked around, and saw that the living room was a bit...messier than before. There next to the couch was a bucket of dildos--the clean pile, as Coach liked to call them. He lubed one up with the bottle lying on the coffee table, slid it into Greg’s hole, and listened to the older man moan in delight. The dildo was only a bit smaller than a fist--not Tony’s fist, which was massive, but a normal sized fist, and Greg reached down to play with his modest seven inch cock until he exploded, shooting his own load all over the side of the couch. Satisfied, with the dildo still deep inside him, the two collapsed on the couch and resumed making out until their massive pipes burned down to the bottom of their bowls.

Tony had no trouble inhaling now--after all, he’d been smoking pipes with his coach for years now, and had amassed a sizable collection of his own. Thinking about them, he felt all of this knowledge pour into his mind--an encyclopedic knowledge of pipe makers, styles, sizes and shapes, knowledge about how tobacco is blended and flavored, where and how it’s grown and produced. He wasn’t just a smoker, he was an aficionado now. Greg leaned in and rested his head in the crook of Tony’s arm, taking a deep sniff of his pit, “Fuck, what the hell am I gonna do when you go off to school in the fall? You’re gonna have to make a dildo of that cock of yours for me, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Don’t worry Coach, I’ll come back and visit.”

“You fuckin’ better,” he said, stood up and stretched. Tony looked at the clock, both amazed and a bit embarrassed to discover they’d been playing for nearly two hours. 

“Fuck, I got to get going,” Tony said.

Greg agreed, but Tony paused long enough to pack his pipe again, light it up, and share a final, smoky kiss with his coach before leaving. It was natural now, his pipe smoking--it fact, he realized he needed it. His addiction was so bad, he had to skip out on a bit of every class, just to go smoke outside of the school. He didn’t have a problem with his grades though--if anything, school was too easy for him, and always had been...hadn’t it? Tony still wasn’t quite sure how to process all of what was happening to him, it was easier to just relax and accept it all as it came. His dad had to be home from work by now--it was time he met his new son, and they got properly acquainted.