Bear in Paradise

The night is cool, and it tickles my leg hairs when the chilly drafts hit me. The cold can't soften my cock though, engorged by the beautiful sight before me.

Our low, king-sized bed, a perfect picture frame for the bearded, deliciously full bear that is tied to the corners of it. The sleeping mask over his eyes looks almost comical. You don't see too many big, sexy, masculine men with delicate sleeping masks on.

He lightly struggles against his bindings, and my heart just melts. He's so adorable when he's helpless.

I remember when I first saw him online, back when he was just another guy named Michael. My breath rushed away when I saw his picture. His short, chestnut, perpetually messy hair, with a full but not long beard with tinges of red in it. And his body, the textbook definition of dad bod, with lots of chest hair and a soft, rubbable tummy. Tattoo sleeves covered his arms and decorated his collar bone.

When we started messaging, I could feel his nerves, even though mere text. I just couldn't understand why a guy as sexy as him, who probably had a dozen thirsty guys after him at any given point, would be so guarded.

After a few days, I worked up the courage to invite him over, and he finally confessed. He had never told anyone that he was a major submissive and a bit of a masochist. And that despite that, he was still a top and he was only attracted to femmes, twinks, those types.

He was a poor victim of stereotyping.

Because I might be thin, effeminate, a cuddle bunny and a bottom...but I love to tease and use guys. Particularly guys like Michael.

I grab the riding crop from the floor and hit it against the palm of my other hand, seeing both of his heads perk up a bit at the sound.

I grin, "Let's play, babe."

I lift the crop and trace it all around his body, and he squirms and wriggles beneath it. His deep, airy moans escape from his smiling mouth. I let him enjoy the sensation a bit before surprising him with a quick, hard strike to his nipple. He squeaks in shock and pain, and I strike again to his other one. One, two, three more strikes, and then I reach underneath him and grab his ass. I briefly massage it, and then squeeze it firmly.

I take my hand off him, and transfer my crop to my left hand. I walk over to the dresser and grab the Sharpie marker off it.

I make sure that he hears the cap popping off it. "Any requests?"

He shakes his head, "I trust you, Dave."

I giggle. "Oh, maybe you shouldn't."

He chuckles, but the sound is cut short as the marker hits his skin. He gently trembles beneath the tip. On his chest, I write "bondage whore" and right above his pubic hair I draw an arrow pointing to his cock, with the words "Property of David" above it.

"What did you write?"

I re-cap the pen and toss it over my shoulder. "You'll see it later."

I take off my briefs and climb on top of him, straddling him reverse-cowgirl style. I lower my ass and rub it up against his dick, feeling the slightly softened state of it firm up as I grind my ass against him. I am giving this man the kinkiest lapdance of his life and I can tell by his soft moans and heavy breathing that he is loving every second of it.

I get off him, slowly rubbing up and off his cock as I do. Even though they're hidden under his blindfold, I can tell that his eyes are rolled up and wide open as he whimpers in pleasure and the desire for more. I pat him on his chest.

"No, babe." I can't keep the smirk out of my voice.

He sighs and gives me the middle finger. Well, as best as he can, considering his hands are tied up.

I walk over to the front of the bed and rub the crop along the soles of his feet, all while stealthily reaching under the bed. I pull the crop back and swing it upward, letting the sound plant a half second of anticipation. But I take the feather duster and go to town on his feet.

His body shakes with full, rolling laughter, and for a split-second, I worry that he's going to undo his bonds. I'm fairly sure they're okay though, because he still seems very restricted.

I move the feather duster up his legs, lingering right at the thickest part of his left thigh. He's almost hyperventilating with laughter, and I notice a single tear escaping his blindfold. So I brush the feather quickly up his shaft and let up, dropping both the duster and the crop to the ground.

"You good?"

He slowly catches his breath. "Yep, good. Great."

I smile and brush the length of his cock with my finger. I grip it and start slowly moving my hand along it. As he groans, I jerk him off more quickly, massaging his balls as I do. I lick the length of it once, and get back to using my hands.

I hear his breath get really heavy, and he moans loudly. I know he's close. Normally I'd leave him on the edge for a while, and then let him cool down long enough to fuck my ass. I'm feeling generous tonight though.

He practically yells as his cock pulses. He always shoots like a goddamn porn star, and a drop of his cum lands right on his chest.

I climb on top of him and hold his face in my hands, leaning my forehead against his. We're breathing in each other's air, and the heat is intense. I kiss him softly on the lips, and smile with pure joy.

"Happy anniversary."