cub84

Thanks for the feedback. - - - - - Chapter 3: Messages with the German bear I'd sort of forgotten about the German guy that had messaged me. Well, I never forgot that cock (and nor did my photos app, having obviously saved it). But after that initial interaction we did keep up messaging. And then in March on the Easter weekend he sent me another message out of the blue, "Hi, it's Alex, so when are you coming back to Germany?". Just after Christmas I'd deleted all the apps, thinking that if I got rid of them, then the temptation to bareback might go. About a week before Easter I succumbed to my urges and re-installed Scruff, his profile pic was just a thumbnail. A thumbnail of that rather magnificently hairy, beefy chest of his. So until I realised we still had our private galleries unlocked for each other I was racking my brain thinking who on earth this Alex guy could be. "Hi, I'm might be back in June. How have you been?" I replied. He replied almost immediately, "Great. The summer is wonderful here. You must go to the lake, it is very beautiful"... "Thanks for the tip, I'll try. I'm only over for a weekend though. Visiting a friend." ... "A sex friend?" ... "Haha, no, we don't have sex" ... "Oh, that is a shame, German guys can be very good sex friends". Our conversation then descended into an exchange of more explicit pics that weren't in our private galleries, and some general chat about how hot we found each other. But it was late, and my eyelids were heavy, so I made my apologies and wished him goodbye. A few weeks later, he messaged again. This time I was on my way home from some late drinks with colleagues. "Hi cub. How are you?" he asked... "A bit drunk. Just on my way home" I replied... "Going home alone?" ... "Yes" ... "That's a shame. Sexy cub like you shouldn't be alone"... "I wouldn't be if you were here"... "No. That is true. I wouldn't let you go home alone. Especially if you are drunk. You need looking after"... "I think I need something else" I replied... "Oh really? And what would that be?"... "Your cock"... "Yes?" ... "Yeah, I love it. I love how thick and veiny it is. I want to feel it" ... "You can do that when you visit"... "I want to feel it now" ... "But we are so far apart cub" ... "I know :("... "But if I was there, you could definitely feel it". I got distracted by some other notification and exited Scruff. After a few minutes he messaged again, "Where do you want to feel it cub? Where do you want to feel my cock?"... "You know" I replied"... "Tell me"... "My ass" ... "Yeah cub. I knew you wanted it"... "So badly"... "You want my cock in you cub?"... "Yes"... "Tell me cub"... "I want your cock inside me"... "Like this?" he said, following it up with a picture of his thick, veiny, raw cock entering a guy's furry ass. "YES" I replied... "You want it exactly like this?" he asked. "Yes" I replied. "You like it raw then cub?". Despite my predilection for barebacking, I'd never actively solicited it through the apps before. It was always something that happened when I was drunk, or once I was at a guy's place. It happening in the spur of the moment was a way of excusing it, I was just a guy that barebacked rather than being a barebacker. That yes I had bareback sex, but I wasn't someone that actively chose to bareback. "So cub, do you like getting fucked raw?" he asked again. He wanted to know. He wanted me to admit it. I would have to commit it to writing. "Yes" I eventually replied. "Yes, what?" he asked. "Yes, I like getting fucked raw" I typed, my dick getting harder than it ever had before. "Good" he replied. "Will you let me fuck you raw when you visit in June?"... "Yes"... "Dirty cub". So there it was technically, I'd committed in writing for the first time to let someone I'd never met before fuck me raw. I never replied to his message, having just got through the door as it arrived. I got into bed, and wanked off to his private gallery, thinking about how wonderful his cock was. How amazing it would feel to have it inside me. A few more weeks passed until he messaged again. "Not long now cub". It was mid-May, and he was right, it was only 4 and a bit weeks till I'd be back. We flirted back and forth, him telling me how much he wanted my ass, me saying how much I wanted his cock. But ultimately, I knew it was unlikely. Jake had said that one of his German friend's parents had a cabin in a forest about an hour's train journey. Knowing I loved hiking and the countryside he said he'd thought it would be great to do, we could head out Friday after I arrived, do a hike on the Saturday, and then head back on Sunday via the lake. I flirted with the hot German bear, it was some harmless fun and we'd not specifically committed to anything. Part of me felt a bit bad for leading him on, but at the same time I thought that maybe the next time I visit Jake, perhaps I'd bump into him at the bear bar.

Chapter 2: Tom's first visit We did have a great summer, that's true. What guys in their 20s don't. But, throughout it all there was this sense of foreboding, that this man I'd come to think so much of, rely so heavily on, that was in effect my best friend, brother, and role model wrapped into one, was going. He would no longer be part of my life in the same way. I wouldn't see him almost every weekend, and usually in between either. I knew I was going to miss him, and I started to miss him before he'd even gone. I remember the last time I saw him before he left for Germany. The day after his leaving party, me, Drew and few others went for a Sunday roast in the pub nearest to Jake's flat. One by one the other peeled off. Then Drew, probably sensing that Jake and I needed to be alone, went back to the flat they'd only moved into together two weeks before Jake was asked to move. "You alright?" Jake asked... "Yeah, I'm good" ... "No, you're not, you've been quieter than usual" ... "I'm just a bit hungover" ... "Yeah, you drank a lot last night. But seriously man, are you ok about all this, about me going away. I can always stay". I was floored, here was Jake saying he'd stay, in an instant I could banish the foreboding that had been growing stronger and stronger over the summer. "No, you can't. You have to. You can't pass up this opportunity. You know that the London team aren't ever going to give you the chances the Germans will. And you've already sorted everything". Our conversation moved on to other things, and eventually it was time to go. Our hug goodbye was longer than usual, I'm shorter so I always ended up with my head in his neck, I breathed in more deeply, hoping that it would mean that I remembered his smell better. And then he did something he'd never done, he moved and kissed my forehead. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'm only ever a call/text away. You'll come visit, and if not before, then I'll be back in a few months at Christmas. Plus I'm counting on you to keep Drew in line". I looked at him, my eyes about to water, and he just said "You don't need to say anything. I'll see you soon". I turned and walked. Usually after a day in the pub I'd have ben lazy and taken the bus the three stops to my place, but I walked, wanting to prolong things as much as possible. As I turned the corner into my street, the tears started, and they didn't stop for a good few hours. Jake flew away a few days later. That wasn't the end of things, we continued to text as normal as if that goodbye hadn't happened. In the end I didn't feel as bad after he'd left as while I was preparing for him to go. Then again, I threw myself into work and tried to be more social. Meanwhile, with no boyfriend for a couple of years, and only a handful of hook-ups my fantasies and porn habits became darker as I sought out more and more of a kick to get me off. About three or four months before Jake told me he was going, I rediscovered bugchasing. When I was at university at one point I'd found a website called "Bareback Exchange", initially it freaked me out, but eventually it was the only thing that got me hard. Somehow I managed to quit the habit, but if I'm honest it was always there. While everyone thinks I'm innocent, and it's true I don't hook up much, but when I do play, I play hard. Or rather, raw. I definitely can't top with a condom, and I'm never going to be hard or that into it if the guy topping me is wearing one. Mid-fuck I'll get them to pull out, and I'll pull the rubber off and suck them, hoping that he won't reach for another one when I start rubbing my ass against his dick again. It had reappeared as something that got me off every so often. But around the April before Jake left, before I even knew he was going, my bugchasing fantasies started again, and they never left. Then getting myself lost in my fantasies became the only way to take my mind off the fact Jake was leaving. And by the time he left, I'd normalised them to the extent where I could only cum thinking about getting my cubby ass pozzed. Despite that, I'd not actually become a chaser. I told myself, if I kept it in my head that would be ok. That I didn't need to take that step. Inadvertently, I think that's probably why I didn't actually have as much sex as other guys, I knew that if I was going to have sex I didn't want what most guys were offering (condoms and vanilla experiences). But also that I was too scared to have the sex I really wanted. I digress. Jake and I continued to text. I saw Drew a fair bit, but not as much as I ever did with Jake around. But enough that I could "keep him in line" as Jake had asked. I was never quite sure what he meant, it was well know that they had an open relationship. I think he meant, Drew not going to sex parties or saunas. Which for the most part was fine. We did go to XXL occasionally, including the dark room, as far as I know Drew only ever did oral in there. And there was a night when we got very drunk and I sucked him off, we almost fucked, but we came to our senses and realised that was a violation of Jake's trust. But after about six weeks, Jake text me, "easyJet are having a flash sale, book a ticket, come and see me in a few weeks". Drew had already visited, so it wasn't like I was breaking some sort of code. So I booked a ticket for early November. I landed on Friday afternoon, Jake had tried but couldn't get the day off work. So once getting to the train station I dropped my bag in a locker (god love continental train stations) and had a wander around a new city. I grabbed some food, saw some sights. And at 4pm Jake text to say he'd managed to leave early. We met at the main station, hugged and then picked up my bag. And no, before you ask, we didn't do that romantic run together sort of hugging. Jake had initially stayed in a hotel for a few weeks while he looked at some apartments his company had found. He'd only been in his new place about a month when I got there. It was small, but sufficient for one person on their own. It was in a nice neighbourhood with a good commute to work and the city centre. After having some dinner, we headed out to some bars. We drank a lot as we caught up, it was just like old times. Saturday night, was a bit of a repeat, there were only a few gay bars, but rather than finish up in the mainstream bar, Jake decided we'd go to the HardBar - essentially the bear/leather bar. There were some guys Jake knew there and we got chatting to them. It seemed like he was settling in well. Sunday morning, as I woke up hungover I realised I hadn't opened any of the apps yet, so I fired up the triple set of Grindr, Scruff and Growlr. I also remember Jake mentioning one called Romeo that's better on the continent, so I thought I'd check it out. I scrolled through the screens, checking some guy's profiles out but given I was getting a plane in a couple of hours didn't bother to message anyone. When I got back to London and turned my phone back on, I got a notification of a message and an album unlock. It was from a very hot beary guy in his late 30s, not muscled but the right sort of chunky to know that he could easily throw me about if I ever got in his bed. And in his private gallery was one of the thickest, most wonderful cocks I have ever seen, to this day it's almost certainly in the top 3. "Saw you at Hard last night. Very cute. Are you here long?" he'd written. "Sorry man, wasn't a long visit, just got back to London", I replied. "Oh, too bad. Let me know if you visit again" he messaged back within a few minutes, "sure thing" I replied. "Just landed, was great to visit, thanks for inviting me" I text to Jake, "Great to have you, see you at Christmas." he replied. Christmas came and went in a blur, Jake went to see his family, but was back in London for New Year at the now customary house party that our wider social group had established. At some point when we were catching up he told me to "It's the winter flight sales, come visit again in the summer, so I don't miss celebrating your 30th, I know you don't really do anything to celebrate birthdays, so why not come visit then". The following week we made plans for me to spend my 30th birthday weekend visiting Jake.

Despite being here for several years, this is my first post, and my first ever attempt at writing fiction. - - - - - Chapter 1: Setting the scene My name is Tom. But this story isn't really about me, it's about my friend Jake. Jake is/was one of my best friends. We met at university, I was in the last year of my degree and he was just starting his. We met at one of the LGBT society socials, being the only two cubby guys we hit it off. Despite my initial desires, nothing happened between us that evening, but over that year we developed a good friendship. Then the next summer when my course end of the year I moved to London to start a job. Jake and I kept in touch now and then, but I assumed it was probably just going to fizzle out. He stayed up in Manchester after his course ended, landing a job with a local engineering firm. We were friends on Facebook and text every so often, but that was it. Then after a year he text to say he'd got a new job and would be moving to London in a couple of months. By the point he moved here I'm 26 and he's 23. Our friendship restarted, he moved to a flat near me, we hung out most weekends and introduced him to my London mates and social group. I'd also picked up a boyfriend by this point, Mark. A great guy that I'd been seeing for about 5 months when Jake moved to London. And much as I really liked Mark, over time those feelings I'd originally had for Jake when I first met him started to come back, with a vengeance. Except they were different. While I was desperately attracted to him, there wasn't the desire to be boyfriends, I wanted something else, but I didn't know what it was. Mark eventually sensed something was up, I kept pretending that it was just work stress. When deep down it was an intense desire to be with Jake. Eventually one night when Mark was fucking me I uttered "yeah... breed me Jake... fuck your cum into me". Mark stopped fucking me, "so that's what's up with you" he said, I feigned ignorance, "huh... what do you mean?". "That's why you've been so weird recently. You love Jake don't you?" ... "Umm, no. What makes you say that?"... "Don't play the fool Tom you just grunted out his name as I was balls deep in you". "No, it's not like that. Well, a bit. It's difficult. But I don't love him, at least I don't think I do". We talked and I explained how I felt, Mark tried to understand. But things didn't get any better, if anything they got worse. Mark was jealous, despite me reassuring him that nothing was going to happen. Eventually we broke up, understandably it couldn't really last, but we stayed friends. Friends that fucked. If anything that actually made things between us better. And when Mark got a new boyfriend I wasn't upset, and would occasionally play with both of them. I never told Jake the real reason we broke up. But my new amounts of free time got eaten up by Jake, we became thick as thieves, always hanging out. It felt like I had the brother I'd never had but always wanted, or that Jake was the guy I wished I could be: outgoing, fucked around, could hold down a relationship. That was what it had been all along. Albeit a brother I wanted to fuck. Jake eventually started dating a guy, Drew. He was actually somebody I'd gone out with for a few months before we knew it wouldn't work out. Fast forward a few years, Jake had been in London for about three years, and been seeing Drew for just over a year. We were in the pub on Friday evening when he broke the bad news. "Tom, so, ummm, I don't know how to tell you this." ... "What is it? Is it bad? You know I'll always be there for you" ... "No it's not bad, it's great. Well it's great for my career." ... "That's great. So what is it? Why the long face?" ... "Well, my company have offered me a job in Germany. It's really great money, and it's sort of a promotion. It's the same grade but I'll have more responsibility and bigger projects. They want me to start there in a couple of months." ... "Wow. That's great news. I mean it'll be a huge change. But I know you've been starting to feel like your job is getting stale." ... "You're not mad at me then?" ... "Why would I be mad at you?" ... "Because I'm moving away." ... "Don't be silly. It's a great opportunity. And it's only a few hours by plane." We had a great summer, and then in September he left.