Poppa's Cub Ch. 02

Chapter Two

Kyle woke slowly the next morning, Sunday. He felt someone warm under him and realized that he liked that sensation. He felt the rhythmic breathing of Mike under his right ear, and softly heard the gentle, 'thump-thump' of his heartbeat. He listened to Mike's respiration and felt the big man's left hand as it had hooked itself under Kyle's left armpit and held the two of them together.

Kyle felt protected, and wanted. This was a feeling he'd sought for all of his life, a person that would shelter him, and hold him. Is this was what being gay was about? His friends from high school would never have understood this. His mother would scream, his father, well who knows what his father would say?

None of that seemed to make much difference now though. Mike was here. He could feel his breathing, could smell him. Mike had a man's smell, a real man's smell. He had scars on his furry body, odd pockmarks that Kyle was sure had a story behind every one of them. Kyle wanted these stories, he wanted this man. He felt like a child.

Mike snored softly, and Kyle opened his eyes, and stole a look at him. Mike's nostrils flared as he snorted softly and took a deep breath of air in, and moved his lips. He shifted his arm softly and then tugged Kyle even tighter, letting off a soft sort of pseudo purring sound. Kyle smiled.

Mike's eyes opened to slits, the pupils looking about and fixing on Kyle's emerald green eyes. He pursed his lips to the air and blew Kyle a kiss.

Kyle blew one back and smiled.

"Morning," Mike said softly.

"Morning," Kyle replied. He leaned up and nuzzled the stubble of the big man and clenched at his body needfully.

Mike smiled, and softly petted Kyle's head, scratching it as you would a dog.

"How you feeling?" Mike inquired.

"Good. Real good."

Mike smiled.

"Unfortunately, you got to move," Mike said.

Kyle looked up.

"I got to pee," he explained, sheepishly.

Kyle grinned, and while he too had to urinate, had not thought about moving to do so, not with Mike there.

Mike nudged Kyle softly and Kyle moved away, sitting up in the queen bed of the flat.

Mike's apartment was simple studio, consisting of a bed, television, some furniture, a sort of open kitchen area and a shower. He had a few posters on the walls, including a rare off printing 'Revenge of the Jedi' poster. His collection of video tapes was well maintained and he had a VHS top loader as well as an older, Beta machine. Mike wasn't a tidy soul, and clothing littered the trail between the front door to the bed, and the bed to the bathroom.

Mike sat up, and rolled his shoulders, Kyle could hear his bones creak, and saw a few scars on his back, long tracing things. Kyle gasped and Mike looked over his shoulder.

"Look worse than they are."

"How?" Kyle barely gasped out the word.

Mike's one word reply was simple, "'Nam"

Kyle was in shock. Not that Mike was so much older, but that he would fight anyone. To Kyle's brief exposure to Mike, he was a gentle man, a man who helped others, and tried to do the right thing.

Mike stood, went to the bathroom, and exhaled audibly in relief as he urinated.

Kyle's bladder spoke to him in the same manner and he made a line of one outside the tiny bathroom. He listened to the dripping sound as Mike shook his member between his fore and middle finger to get the urine off.

Instead of turning, he reached a hand over and flipped on the shower, letting the cold water purge from the venerable piping. A short spurt of crimson water came out, as then steam began to fill the bathroom.

Kyle had stepped up to the toilet and was relieving himself when he found Mike watching him with a grin.

"Shower?" He offered, gesturing.

"Yeah," Kyle smiled.

Inside the mini steam room, both men became hard again. They softly rubbed against each other during the soaping, forced to by the small confines.

Kyle had turned around to let the water pound on his neck and Mike loomed to one side, wrapped his powerful arms under Kyle's armpits, and squeezed him tight.

Kyle shivered, his erection becoming more dominant, poking out past the soft overlap of tummy that his weight created. His nipples were pert and he even had some fatty breasts, which Mike spent some time soaping and playing with. He felt Mike's tool against the crack of his ass, and while that felt good, he knew he wasn't ready for it.

Mikes hands soaped the young visitor, even past his own personal scrubbing, using the bar softly on his skin. He soaped up Kyle's armpits, chest, stomach and pubis, even giving his tool some soft hand care. Then the soap went between his ass cheeks, creating a sensation the like of which Kyle had never imagined.

Mike did not need to hear Kyle, he felt him, and whispered, "Come by again, and we can go slowly. I want you to enjoy it." He stepped aside, holding Kyle's ass apart, and letting the hot water drift from the small of his back down the crack of his butt. Kyle shivered, and nodded.

"Hungry?"

"Starving," Kyle answered as Mike wrapped a towel around Kyle's head and rubbed briskly.

"All I got is cereal and toast," Mike said. "Didn't honestly figure anyone would be coming home with me."

Kyle shrugged, "that's all I've got at home, and I didn't know I would be going home with anybody."

Mike laughed a belly laugh and then wrapped his hands around Kyle pulling him tightly. Kyle's breath was squeezed out of him as Mike's mouth invaded his lips. Kyle had only the barest of stubble on his chin, it was soft, and dewy. Mike broke away and patted Kyle on the rump.

Kyle's pulse was pounding and while he didn't want to leave, he understood, on some subconscious level that he was supposed to do something. There was a deep need inside of him, to not want to disappoint and he scuttled into the kitchen.

Mike watched him go, his tool rising to half-mast as he saw the pale white ass. It had been a very long time since he'd had someone so young. Hell, since he'd had anyone at all. Usually he just was ignored as the old man.

Kyle had washed out some bowls he found in the sink and put milk, what cereal he could find, and tossed bread in the toaster. He did these things without thinking about them, automatically. He smiled as Mike came out, wearing a towel around his waist, carrying one for Kyle.

"Trust me, you don't want your butt on that Naugahyde," he said, handing the towel to Kyle.

Kyle smiled and wrapped it around him. He put the toast on the table and brought butter and jam.

Mike looked at the spread, "damn, Kyle. You're gonna make someone a good wife."

Kyle flushed red, but also felt a certain sense of pride. He sat down and waited until Mike was done pouring his cereal and milk to get his own. As he was waiting, he looked at the four sparse photographs on Mike's dining area wall. Mike watched him and explained:

"Okay, top left. That's my family. My dad, mom, and my sister. This was taken in sixty-eight, before I left. I was twenty-five then. I think my sister has a few more kids now than then. I lost track after three, I just send them money. One on the right is my squad. I ended up being the old man of the group, and so they called me poppa."

Kyle nodded. Poppa was not a name used in his family of origin.

"Down here," he gestured with a spoon, "is pride of last year."

"Pride?" Kyle inquired.

"Gay Pride. It's a big deal around here. You start hanging with us long enough and you'll get snagged into it. Kind of like a big party." Mike said. Kyle swallowed and began to understand his entry into the gay subculture.

"And that's my little brother, I just got him two months ago. In fact, I'll have to kick you out about noon or so, as I go to see him on Sundays."

"Your parents had a kid late?" Kyle asked, confused.

"No no, hell I don't think my parents even have sex anymore," he laughed. "I do volunteer work for the Big Brothers of America. Jimmy there is eight. It's like having a grandkid, you go out, buy 'em crap, pump 'em full of sugar and send 'em home. Jimmy's grades aren't none too good, so I go over some schoolwork with him, and have him read and stuff."

Kyle nodded. His grades were poor although he was literate and well read, he just hated school.

"So how about you?"

"Not much to tell. Graduated in eighty-five, moved out. That kinda thing."

"So you ought to be getting close to twenty-one. The bar scene will be calling you." Mike noted.

"I don't know. I guess so, but I'm not sure. I watch from my apartment, the front part of the North Bank, the men come, the men go. A lot of them look plastic, unreal. I'm not sure any of them would want me. I'm fat, I'm not attractive. I don't know what I'm doing." He looked down, away from Mike.

"Hey, Kyle. We all had to start somewhere. No law says you have to go to the bars anyway. You can always hang out in the theater along with the rest of the pervs," he grinned.

Kyle nodded, "it's darker in there."

"To each their own," Mike said. "Personally I hate bars, but then again, I don't smoke. North Bank is always oozing with smoke."

Kyle made a face and nodded adding, "Both my parents smoke."

Mike smiled, watching Kyle's face. He was holding himself back from trying to get emotionally involved but Kyle made it hard. He was so innocent, so needful.

"You can always hang out with me and the guys," he offered.

"Really?" Kyle's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas Morning.

"Oh yeah, we'd love some fresh blood."

"Wow. Thanks!" Kyle replied enthusiastically.

Mike loved seeing that smile on Kyle's face, it was like the look on Jimmy's face when he took him to the movies.

Kyle picked up his dishes and moved to the sink with them running water. Mike's eyes did not leave his round, plump butt, and his mouth watered. He slid out his chair making a screeching noise but did not rise.

When Kyle turned back toward the table, Mike was beckoning him with one finger and patted his thigh. Kyle sat on him. Mike wrapped an arm around him and pulled him down in the awkward position, kissing him roughly on the lips.

The scent of soap and arousal were powerful for Kyle, who had spent many hours stroking off in the shower. His cock poked up and grazed Mike's furred stomach.

Mike's lips ran down Kyle's neck causing him to shiver and landed softly on a nipple, his teeth rubbing against the puffy aureole, sucking hungrily. His right hand slowly stroked Kyle's tool. It was short, and circumcised, and Kyle was embarrassed for it's lack of length. Kyle could feel Mike's tool poking up, against his thigh and he reached down. Kyle was left handed and his fine fingers stroked the tip of Mike's cock, rubbing preseminal fluid across the glans.

"It's a long time until noon," Mike said.

Kyle had wished he hadn't said anything, for he didn't want to leave Mike. He nodded by way of reply.

"Let's go get comfortable, huh? These chairs are hell on me," Mike said, raising Kyle bodily with the one knee and thigh as he arched his heel up.

Mike didn't need to be told twice and padded over to the bed.

The queen sized mattress lay on the floor, bedding wadded in a line at the center. Kyle took his place on the left side, as he had slept there. Mike stepped over him like a giant in Lilliput and knelt down, crouching, grabbing at Kyle's tool.

Kyle reached for Mike's cock as the men kissed hungrily, lips and tongues intertwining.

Gently they stroked at each other making it last.

Kyle enjoyed the oral part, the lips against his, the stubble of Mike's manliness.

Mike lapped at Kyle's smooth lips and kissed his cheeks. His nips trailed down to Kyle's neck. Kyle moaned as the big man took a couple of rougher bites onto his nape. Mike sucked at the flesh, and made an obnoxious kissing sound.

Kyle hissed, the pain was slight, but steady, he gasped, "nnn."

Mike pulled away, smiling at his handy work.

"Gotcha," he said.

Kyle smiled his winning smile, and flushed red, almost leaping on Mike kissing him harder, and more feverishly. Kyle was now straddling Mike and could feel his cock poking at his butt. Kyle was still not ready, and Mike wasn't about to push for that right now.

Softly, he stroked Kyle's member, using both hands, cupping them as if they were in prayer. Gently he massaged Kyle's tool. It was an incredible sensation, the callused hands against the sensitive flesh.

"I'm, I'm..." Kyle gasped, his eyes glazed as his glans fired off a streaming load of hot semen that sprayed Mike from his chin to his navel. The thick gushing jets were like a shower all of their own. Mike held up a hand.

"You got me all wet," he said, playfully.

Kyle blushed.

Mike grabbed at Kyle's face, softly rubbing his own scent in it, playing with him gently, as you would a dog's muzzle.

"I think you better clean me off," Mike said.

Kyle smelled the scent of the white cream on his hands. He softly licked at the hand, tasting the musky saltiness of his own seed.

Mike tapped at his drenched shoulder and Kyle leaned down, softly drawing up his semen into his mouth with his tongue, in a long, erotic dance. He had never done anything like this before, and found it incredible. His entire moment was taken by this simple, tender act.

Gently, his warm, soft tongue cleaned Mike's chest, exchanging the dampness of semen for the dampness of his saliva. His mouth ran down from just above Mike's pecs to just above his navel where he shot his load. He was moving his body back in order to keep up with the trail, he used his hands to move his body back down, and felt Mike's stiffness poke him in the upper chest, and throat.

He sat back softly and used his left hand to softly stroke Mike, his cock naturally lubricated by the big man's abundance of precum.

Mike closed his eyes and enjoyed the pleasure. Kyle's stroke was consistent, slow, almost teasing. His other hand softly stroked Mike's testicles. Mike felt the warning of hot breath along his public area and then the soft roll of the tongue against the cock head.

His eyes opened to see Kyle's lips withdrawing, soft, sticky strands of clear fluid making lines. Kyle licked his lips, and looked Mike square in the eye.

Mike's eyes bored into him.

Kyle lowered his head and licked again, kissing very softly.

Mike smiled ever so softly, just enough to say something without having to speak. Kyle sensed it.

Kyle's desire to please kicked in, and he let about a half inch of the head into his mouth, creating gentle suction. He found the sensation of the glans in his mouth to be oddly full filling, and let the whole tip in.

Mike grunted gently, his hips rocking up as Kyle stroked in rhythm. Kyle did not take more than the head in, he was scared of hurting Mike's tool with his teeth.

He stroked firmly, with a deliberate even hand, rubbing the base of his tongue against the cock, lips rubbing.

Mike grunted and sneered, his thighs trembling softly.

A clench of musculature came from his groin.

His liquid fire dropped into Kyle's mouth in a thick, rich froth of man cream.

Kyle's eyes widened, and he had no idea how to swallow it as came forth. He let it rest in his mouth, dribble from his lips, and run down his fingers.

"Looks like you need to clean me up there, too," He observed.

Kyle nodded and licked the big man dry.

Mike's finger beckoned and Kyle curled up against the left side.

"So, boy. I'd say you were a cocksucker now."

Kyle nodded softly.

Mike held him gently until the shock set in. He held Kyle's chin directly, to control his sight. It was a firm, unyielding grasp.

"Say it." Mike said.

Kyle swallowed, his mouth still rank with musk.

"I... I'm a cocksucker."

Mike looked at him soberly, "I don't think the sky fell."

Kyle nodded gently.

"I just don't want to be alone," Kyle said.

"Nobody does. I've lived here for a good five years now, by myself. Once in a while I'll trick. Sometimes, we have to take what we can get, Kyle. Life isn't perfect. Pleasure is something we rarely get, so we must cherish it."

Kyle closed his eyes, nuzzled his face into Mike's protective hand, and rested there for the morning. Mike softly stroked his face and hair and wished that someone had been this gentle to him, once upon a time ago.