My Hairy Stud Bear's Monte Carlo SS

My sweet and sexy big bear hunk of a guy went and bought a brand new white Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS 2 door coupe powered by a nasty ass Turbo-Jet 5.7 litre engine right off the showroom floor at the local GM dealership in late 1983.

He worked back then in a mid-level management position for a conservative private corporation and was trying to present a convincing image of straight-appearing, wholesome establishment family man to his boss and co-workers until he had firmly established himself within the upper echelon of the corporate hierarchy.

He was a muscular masculine stud of a man with a confident baritone voice and an ever-present, sexy five o'clock shadow, obliging him to shave twice daily to look reasonably groomed at times. He played his role well ... convincingly looking and sounding 100% masculine with his mannerisms and when he spoke. Remember that this was back in the mid-eighties.

It was a closeted time for so many of us.

It did extremely weird things to my brain over what I suspected was his misguided twisted logic and motivation for buying this particular model of car and the image he was hoping to convey to the public. I think he sort of thought back then that straight masculinity was more like an image thing you could either drive or wear, like his favorite sport coats or his grey, well-tailored men's suits ... or hopping in, adjusting his big furry pube package, spreading his brawny, beefy, well-developed thighs and tooling around in a safe, anonymous, establishment accepted piece of GM rolling metal. All his Monte Carlo ever did for me though was to underscore the contrast between it and him by being the 180 degree polar opposite to the compellingly handsome and virile 6 foot pornographic sex god I had come to know intimately and love passionately.

In private, I jokingly nick-named his car ‘Darryl .’

‘Darryl’ to me was a short, middle-aged, married, paunch-bellied straight man wearing thick framed bifocals with a whiny wife named Rhonda Louise and two asthmatic, pre-pubescent kids.

‘Darryl’ was the type of man who would typically lust after an uninspired, bloated North American parody of a sports car he mistakenly believed would make him look super sexy and cool when driving it.

‘Darryl’ was an accountant with a big mortgage, a tiny shrivelled dick, man boobs and a rapidly thinning, receding hairline.

‘Darryl’ was likely impotent at that point in his life and would certainly have been the type of candidate to drive a car just like what my hot, masculine lover had just purchased.

My husky, hairy, muscular bear of a man was the complete opposite of a ‘Darryl.’

He was really something. I met him during an evening alumni event at my university where I had volunteered to assist. It was the first time I ever saw him. I turned beet red, gulped and just about passed out on the spot. He picked up on my reaction and spent the rest of that evening casually leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, posing with his thumb hooked into the front pocket of his tight khakis, his fingers spread out to direct attention to his bulging crotch while staring at me and grinning that dumb grin of his until I had mustered up enough nerve to shyly walk over and say hi to him. Jeezus …

Both men and women would pause in mid-conversation to turn their heads and discreetly check him out when he was out in public. Women would stare at his bulging package and his hard man ass and likely wind up with moist panties after a couple of minutes of fantasizing about him playing with their clitorises. And men would usually end up being totally jealous and completely intimidated by him. I know he pretended to be oblivious to the attention but was secretly hugely amused and proud of the effect he had on envious strangers.

I never called his new car ‘Darryl’ in front of him. The man would have been super pissed off. And the last thing I would have wanted to do was mock or belittle him or intentionally wound his masculine vanity and pride.

I remember we'd been living discreetly together for almost a year the day he came home and proudly announced he'd just bought his first brand new car.

Up to that point he’d been driving the same old tin can sub-compact his mom and dad had given to him just after he’d finished grad school. It didn’t exactly fit the image he was going for now. I remember him saying to me, “Baby, I’m fucking sick and tired of having to bend myself up double and fold myself in half to get in my fucking car. My forehead has a permanent dent in it from banging it on the door. And it always seems like my knees are up around my shoulders whenever I have to drive it for any kind of long distance. It’s been great up to now having you up close and tight against me in it. But damned frustrating at the same time ‘cause I can’t fool around in it with you without being all stiff and sore the next day … and not in a good way either. That’s one of the reasons why I wanted the big Monte Carlo with a long bench style front seat instead of buckets and console. And with those extra-wide doors, I can hop into it no problem, You and I are gonna’ have lots of hot, fun sex in my new wheels baby.

I was twenty-two and he was the sexy older stud … almost eleven years older than me at that time.

From the beginning of our dating and eventual relationship, I lusted over him and his big, uncircumcised cock, I'll never forget that first time he let me get into his pants to go down on his thick tool. It sure as hell didn't take long for me to become addicted to that throbbing, eight inch, butt hole impaling man shaft of his.

He clearly knew what he had between his muscular long legs and stuffed into his tight bulging trousers. It didn’t take much for him to turn up the heat, keeping me acutely conscious of him and in a state of constant sexual tension whenever I was close enough to feel his pervasive heat and warm breath on the back of my neck and when he was within close intimate groping and fondling range of my butt. The chemistry between us was palpable and powerful.

After three months and much inveigling and cajoling, I convinced him to let me move in with him. I was then his ‘cute ass cookie boy’ ... chewy, delicious, highly addictive and impossible to say no to after the first probing tongue tease lashing of my tight boy butt hole according to him. It was his affectionate pet name for me.

The prospect of having his steaming low hangers explode with his uncut dick pumping his potent seed deep inside me every night and sharing his big, cozy bed, tightly curled up next to him under the duvet with my nose buried into his pheromone scented arm pit and his muscular arm possessively curled around me was everything in that first year.

The day he took delivery of his new wheels from the dealership I have this memory of him pulling up to pick me up from my classes that afternoon. He had a shit-faced grin on his face as he braked to a sudden stop in front of me.

“Jeezus … you look so sexy and handsome in your new car!”

“Awww … thanks baby.”

He was wearing his favorite brown and tan wool and linen blend sport coat and tan worsted wool trousers that were both beginning to show signs of wear. His Burberry plaid tie was loosened around his neck and the top button of his white dress shirt was undone revealing a tantalizing, teasing promise of dark chest hair underneath. There was a brown and tan dotted silk pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complete the sartorial image. I had to admit, from head to toe right down to his brown polished loafers, he looked pretty damned irresistible and super masculine that day. He was a fucking stud muffin and actually looked like he belonged in that driver’s seat when I checked him out seated there with his legs spread wide and bulging crotch invitingly on display for me. He groped and rubbed his prominent, half-hard package, then leaned over to open the passenger side door. He raised the driver’s armrest between the two front seats and patted the passenger seat beside him. Then he grinned suggestively at me and motioned to hop in to that big, comfy, fully reclining, front bench style seat up close and tight beside him.

I stared down at the tent his boner was making in his dress pants and said, “With the wet spot you’re making inside those work pants, it isn’t very hard to figure out just what you’re packing down there. I sure hope you don’t walk around your office that way.”

He grabbed onto his big dick, then started to shake it and point it at me, laughing and said, “Never you mind there cookie kid. Just get in my fuckin’ car ‘cause by the looks of your tight jeans, I’m thinking you’re gonna’ need a hand job yourself since you seem really happy to see me too. Now fucking get in here with me ‘cause I wanna’ play with your little big boy dick!”

I didn’t hesitate.

He revved the crap out of his brand new car, then floored it and off we went like shit. He always seemed to want to drive the piss out of his cars. It was a manly, testosterone thing for him, I guess.

He expertly maneuvered through the downtown rush hour traffic and managed to get onto the eastern parkway, cruising down the road with his throaty engine vibrating and rumbling away. He grabbed onto my left hand and used it to massage the hard bulge straining inside the moist crotch of his trousers. “Get down there and take my cock out baby. It’s been trapped inside these fucking pants all day and wants to come out now and have some play time with you. Actually kid, just after I picked up my new wheels from the dealership I got so boned up and uncomfortable driving along I thought my balls were gonna’ explode and my cock was gonna’ burst inside my tight briefs. I had to pull over somewhere private to take’em off and go commando. I was playing with my cock to keep it all juiced up as I was driving to come pick you up just now baby. Maybe you could get your sexy tongue down there and lap up whatever is left of those dripping pre-cum spots I managed to spill between my legs. You never know. You just might get me all stiff and hard and ready to cum for you.”

“Yes, I kinda’ thought you maybe were trying to jerk off earlier because I wondered why you weren’t wearing any underwear when I was working your dick just now. And right now I can smell your hot bulging crotch from here . It smells pretty damned good too. You know, I can never get enough of your man scent. I’m addicted to it.”

He gave an obscene sounding chuckle at my comment and then said, “Well kid, you just got my cock’s attention ‘cause it’s twitching again. I think we need to christen my new wheels cookie boy. I wanna’ shoot my load while tooling down the parkway with you playing Little Red Riding Hood looking for a big hairy man basket in my dark, sweaty pube forest down there. Whadya’ say?”

A few kilometres down the road, he turned into a parking area reserved for hikers and bikers along the walking trail. He pulled into a secluded, shady parking space in the far corner of the lot and killed that big 5.7 litre throaty sounding engine.

Next thing I know he’s managed to pull his trousers down past his knees to expose his throbbing bulge and spread his legs wide to give me a ring side seat view of his hard thick cock while gently pulling my head down into that incredible powerfully fragrant man scented crotch of his that I was so addicted to.

“Come on baby … suck it.”

He was right. There were a few remaining spots of moist pre-cum down there that I promptly took care of. And ten minutes later with his right hand fondling, massaging and playing with my ass cheeks and butt crack, and with my mouth and tongue greedily sucking on his testicles and hard fully erect tool, I managed to get him all boned up again with him softly moaning and about to shoot his cum load. “Ah fuck cookie, I don’t have a god-damned cum towel in the car with me and I don’t wanna’ make a mess … shit man!”

“The new car smell in my Monte sure as hell is not gonna’ be lasting too damned long at this rate with you and me fucking and sucking in it like we just did kid.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “I bought a little present for you to help you celebrate your new car.” Then I reached into my knapsack and pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to him.

“Sooo … What the hell is this? A tea towel with a picture of Yogi Bear on it that says only you can prevent forest fires? I don’t get it baby.”

“It’s your new cum towel for the car. Whenever you have a fire in your pants down there in your pube forest, you can use it.”

“Fuck baby! Ya’ know … I’m damned good. But even I cant laugh and cum at the same time. Now get back down there and finish what you started!”

His orgasm when he came in my mouth was powerful, explosive and vocal.

I took my finger and rubbed my mouth to take some of his thick ejaculate dripping around my lips after he blew his load. Then I held my finger up to his mouth to spread his spent cock juice around his lips. This drove him wild as he grabbed me to shove his tongue far down my throat in a passionate, probing, invasive kiss.

With my face buried deep in his dark, sweaty pube forest, inhaling his pungent man spice, he sighed deeply with contented pleasure and then smiled and said to me, “OK, that was fucking fantastic cookie babe. But next time we’re gonna’ be prepared. You’re gonna’ be sitting on me kid and riding my dick a lot in the front seat once I scout out some private places where we can suck and fuck and break in my new wheels baby.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I say. “How about in a few minutes right here, right now?”

He laughed and then said, “Ahh fuck1 You’re gonna’ fucking kill me honey. How's about we give my cock a chance to rest up a bit?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that baby?”

“That I get to sleep in that big bear, man-smelling underwear you’ve been wearing all day when we go to bed tonight and tomorrow all day at school. I just have to smell like you inside my jeans tomorrow. It makes me feel like you’ve branded me with your animal scent and claimed ownership of me.”

His cock started twitching again when it registered with him what I had just said.

“Sooo … I’m an animal to you, am I? Hmmm … OK, I think I kinda like that!”

“Yup … a big, fucking, handsome, hairy bear. My big, horny, boned-up bear in fact.”

He laughed and started to growl at me. Then he shifted slightly to sit upright while continuing to chuckle and remembered he had tossed his sweaty tightie whities under his driver’s seat. So he reached down with his left hand and pulled them out, balled them up and then tossed them over at me and said, “Jeezus god-damned Christ kid. You are one kinky, perverted little fucker at times, aren’t you my cute little butt hole boy? Is that what you think about in the lecture hall when you’re supposed to be paying attention to what your profs are trying to teach you?”

Well, as a matter of fact … thinking of you with your arms around me and what’s in your pants are about the only things that get me through those dry and boring lectures.”

At that point I have my hand inside his shirt and am absentmindedly playing with and tweaking his left nipple. “I actually kinda’ prefer it when you teach me. You’re a lot more experienced in some things than they are.”

“All right baby. Enough of that kind of talk for now my cute ass butt boy. Keep pinching my nipple that way baby and we’re never gonna’ make it out of this parking lot.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He smirks and then says, “I’m gonna’ have to take these damned pants into the dry cleaners tomorrow to get rid of the shot spots and crotch odor since you can smell me so much in the car. Sure as hell can’t be having people getting a strong whiff of me in the office that way.”

“Nope! Like hell you are. I’ll buy you a new pair if I have to. But you’re going keep these ones in the living room closet by the front door and wear them sometimes whenever we go tooling around in your car for me to get lost down there in your hairy pleasure forest. That scent between your legs is just for me, big guy!”

More suggestive laughter from him as he let me roll back his foreskin to suck and lick the last bits of spunk off his dick and then stuff both it and his testicles carefully back into his pants, zip him up and then buckle up his worn tan leather belt. Then as he bent over to grab onto his ignition key, he hesitated, sat back and turned to face me with an amused expression on his face.

“You know babe, before I met you, the guys I was with were only ever just interested in getting into my pants to suck and play with my dick. I find it kinda’ funny that you always wanna’ do me up again after you do me.”

I responded, “Well … it’s just as much of a turn on for me to dress you as it is to undress you. It’s kinda’ like a sexy, special porno scene with only you starring in it for my perverted personal pleasure. I really get off on that. It gives me more time to play with the tab on your zipper and shove my hands down between your hairy, beefy legs to play with you.”

He just shook his head and smiled at that comment.

“And, and, well … I like to finish what I started.”

“Sooo …now that I’m thinking about it baby … you wanna’ drive it home cookie butt? My Monte is for you too ya’ know. I put you on my insurance so you can drive it whenever you want to.”

“Nah … this is your special day. And besides, I want to play with you some more on the way home.” And then I smiled as he slowly drove ‘Darryl’ out of the parking lot with my hand buried deep down in his crotch to feel the heat between his legs.

Once we got back to our apartment, he steered his SS down the ramp into the parking garage and over to his parking spot in the dark corner. “Hmmm…. oh Jeez. Never thought about the size of this thing and fitting it into my parking space cookie. This is gonna’ be a challenge ‘cause it’s so tight. Just like your hot little butt hole baby!”

I followed him to the elevator and he pushed the button for the 18th floor. Once inside, he pinned me tight up against the wall, leaning hard into my body with his arms restraining me, softly cursing and urgently whispering, “Fuck it! I don’t fuckin’ care if anyone gets on or off this elevator ‘cause you and I are gonna’ get off big time when I get you into the bedroom later. You’re my sexy butt boner boy and you’re gonna’ get fucked real good honey. Just gotta’ be inside you baby. Don’t plan on getting any god-damned sleep tonight!”

And then he thrust his tongue deep down my throat, while thrusting and grinding his hips and big, hairy crotch basket into me.

That pick-up scene and first ride with him and me and his new wheels will always be a vivid memory for me.

At the time, I thought to myself, "Well ... maybe, perhaps things were going to work out OK between me and vanilla white ‘Darryl’ after all."

... and then just a few weeks later ...

He came to realise that the 4th generation of these early 80's General Motors G body mid-size cars had quirky carburetors (before fuel injection was introduced in later models) and correspondingly temperamental and stubborn tendencies when it came to cold starts.

He wasn't mechanically inclined in the slightest and knew next to nothing about cars or maintenance, even though he liked to pretend he did.
Ask him the difference between a driveshaft and a differential and you'd likely wind up getting a ... huhh? What the hell are you talking about? ... and a blank look from him. He was really clueless for such a masculine guy when it came to vehicles.

To his shock and consternation during that first bone-chillingly cold winter, he came to learn that in our frigid northern climate if he left his beloved baby outside for a couple of hours with a strong, frigid north wind blowing, the damned thing wouldn't start for him no matter how much he pumped his gas pedal and cranked the son of a bitch.