Goldilocks and His Three Bears

by AM Riley

  Jim looked shy as he pressed the key into Brian's palm. The inscribed rubber tab was soft with age, like this old hippy bear had been carrying it around with him forever. Brian felt that this simple request was somehow momentous for Jim.

  “Of course,” he said. He took the keys from Jim's warm hand. “How long you gonna be gone, man?”

  Jim looked up at some distant point in space. Like he saw visions or something. “I don't know,” he said vaguely.

  Chapter Three

  So after a couple weeks of seeing white vans everywhere he looked, patiently watering the small forest of marijuana plants in the enormous empty house, and comparing every leather clad dude at the Faultline to his recent beaus and finding them sorely lacking, Brian was starting to feel seriously sorry for himself. You can't take a guy from mind-blowing sex almost every night to nothing, just like that, and not expect a little withdrawal.

  He was moping, which was dumb. So he did some chores, went to the grocery store. And that was where it all went south. If he had to defend himself in a court of law he would have pleaded the Twinkie defense.

  His sugar jones was a monkey on his back that Brian usually managed to resist. He didn't walk down the cookie aisle, and he avoided the baked goods department. But he was standing in line at the checkout, with a cart full of healthy fruits and vegetables and protein— and there, practically jumping into his cart, was a two-for-one on family packs of Twinkies.

  Twinkies, man. Food of the gods.

  He told himself he'd only eat one, but he knew he was lying. He finished three on the walk back to his apartment, another before he'd even put away the rest of the groceries. By the time he'd finished the twelfth Twinkie, he was bouncing off the walls, out of the apartment and up those two blocks to the empty bungalow.

  Well, he'd water the plants. The whole place still smelled of Momma and bacon, and Brian bounced off walls in there for a while when he heard the roar and crank of a truck out on the quiet street and parted the kitchen curtains to see out.

  There was big, shiny red and chrome rig parked in front.

  At this point, Brian told himself in retrospect, He Should Have Known Better.

  Your Honor, the Twinkies made me do it.

  Bounce bounce bounce. “Hi!” he said brightly to the man who came through the front door.

  Wow. Only about five feet seven but built; the man was a fucking boulder standing there in front of him. Pretty, honey-colored eyes below straw-colored eyebrows. The man grinned, his tanned face full of white teeth.

  “Well, hi yerself, Goldilocks. You sure don't resemble either one of my roommates.”

  His voice was growly and musical, with a touch of twang. He sounded like a country song.

  Brian bounced, tossing those golden locks playfully.

  “I'm Brian,” he said. “I'm watering the plants.”

  “Scott.” And Brian was presented a nicely shaped bronzed hand. “You a friend of Jim's then?”

  Brian clasped that hand, grinning, Twinkies in his toes making him bounce and wriggle. “Yes.” Bounce bounce. “That your truck?” Bounce.

  Scott laughed. “That's my baby. My lover, my home, my partner in crime.” He sighed. “But it's been a long trip, and I'm happy to be back. Say, sugar, would you mind helping me bring in some gear?”

  And that was how Brian ended up in the kitchen of the bungalow with the third roommate, sharing a beer.

  Scott was friendly and seemed to have no personal space at all. He wrestled an empty beer bottle out of Brian's hand, getting a good pinch at Brian's butt in the process. He gave Brian another beer and caressed Brian's arm, letting his hand linger.

  Brian giggled when a stubby finger found a tickly spot on his waist.

  “'Jes’ tell me if I'm botherin’ you,” said Scott. Pretty honey-colored eyes blinking at him.

  “N-n-no.” Brian wasn't bothered. Brian was horny and bouncy.

  “Good.” Scott growled and moved right on in, grinning and crooning in that gravelly voice, his hands everywhere, squeezing and finding good places to tug. “Oooh looky,” he chortled, finding and playing boldly with Brian's cock.

  Brian's brain did a swirly whirly, and his cock tried to poke a hole through his jeans.

  “You've got nice hands,” he said.

  Scott gave him a crinkly smile and a little pinch. “All the boys tell me so, sweetie. So. I know it's sudden, but I've been on the road for months, and I ain't had anything touch my ass but vinyl upholstery in too long. You want to take this to the bedroom?”

  “Sure.”

  And there they were. Scott was like a cuddly, growly pug dog in bed. Slobbering all over Brian's cock like it was candy, pushing Brian to the edge so fast that when he handed Brian a condom and rolled over, presenting that hard, perfect, round butt to him, Brian's brains about blew a gasket.

  And that was the honest truth, Your Honor.

  Brian wasn't sure how to handle the Scott situation. The man gave him a happy pinch on the bottom and a “thanks darlin'” and let him out the front door without a backward glance. The next day, when Brian came to water the plants, Scott was nowhere to be seen.

  He was leaving, locking the front door, when he was tackled from behind.

  Okay, so he'd quit those karate classes before he'd made any kind of belt of any color, but he tried to defend himself.

  “Hey! Shit, sugar, that's a valuable part there!”

  Oh. “I'm sorry, Scott,” said Brian from beneath the pile of man flesh. “I thought you were a masher.”

  “Oh, honey, I am,” growled Scott against his ear. His fingers went to naughty places like they could see in the dark.

  Brian giggled. “We're in the front yard, you horndog.” He wriggled, getting grass in his nose and some in his mouth while thick fingers dug into his sides, tickling. “Damn.” He tried to roll, got hold of a piece of Scott and flipped him.

  Eyes like melted gold looked up at him, big smile and hard muscles. Scott laughing and still tickling him, hands wandering over Brian's ass, groping.

  Brian yelped and fought and finally did a little groping of his own. After all, it was right there.

  “Let's go inside, sugar,” said Scott, suddenly serious. And they raced into the house, stripping clothing as they ran through the living room. Brian gave Scott an appreciative once-over as the man came at him. He'd not really had a good head-to-toe look the last time. Scott was covered with curly golden hair that glistened in the afternoon light coming through the windows. His cock wasn't in proportion to his height. It was long, and his balls were substantial.

  Brian swallowed. Pointed. “That is a nice piece of equipment, man.”

  Scott screeched to a halt, spread his legs, and shook his thing happily. “Pride ‘n joy.”

  Brian laughed. “You are something else.”

  “You know it,” said Scott, coming toward him with a wiggle and a stalk. “Not too bad yourself, babe. You gonna let me have a piece of that?” And like that, Scott was down on his knees, eye to eye, so to speak, with Brian's cock.

  “I'm starving,” said Scott. He looked up at Brian, pouting, producing a condom with a flick of his fingers. “Feed it to me?”

  Grinning, Brian sheathed his prick, then, gently holding Scott's head, guided himself between Scott's eager lips. A tongue wrapped around him and sucked hard, those lips soft and firm. He rocked slightly in and felt Scott swallow around him like it was nothing.

  Daring a bit more, Brian pulled back slightly and rocked forward a little. Scott hummed happily and sucked harder, his throat closing convulsively around the head.

  “Aw, fuck,” said Brian, fingers in those straw-colored spikes, and cock hard as rock and stuck in a vacuum tube. A hot, tight, crazy-with-tongue vacuum tube. Cursing, pumping for real, he felt hands tugging on his balls, a finger rubbing at his perineum, circling his hole. Scott's nose in his groin, Scott moaning around Brian's cock.

  Glancing down, Brian could see the white of Scott's elbow pumping, a muff
led groan buzzing around his cock. Just the thought of Scott coming from sucking him off pushed Brian over the edge as well.

  “Wow.” He was a melted pile of man-mush on the floor with Scott and a puddle of come. “I can't feel my legs.”

  Bony knees and elbows flopped about for a minute until they were both propped against the wall. Brian sighed. “If you have anything to do, don't mind me. I think I'll take a little nap right here.”

  Scott grinned widely. “How do you feel about football?”

  “Mmm?” said Brian. “Balls and feet not my favorite combo.”

  One thick finger gave Brian's head a gentle thunk. “The sport, blondie. You know. Pigskin and the gridiron.”

  Brian shook his head until brain cells settled right side up and in their proper corners. “Oh. Football. I love football, actually. I'm a Giants fan.”

  “You evil bastard. Pittsburgh Steelers are the team.”

  “Since when?”

  “There's a game on. You want to watch it?”

  “Sure.”

  And that was sort of the way things went with them. Scott was an eager, happy-go-lucky fuck buddy. He liked taking it up the ass, and he liked sucking cock. He was pretty much agreeable to anything else, but those were his main hobbies. As often as Brian came to the bungalow and they fucked, they also did nothing more than hang out watching random sports on TV or playing ball in the backyard.

  Brian would have been fine except for the constant reminders of Paul and Jim. Jim he missed, but he pined for Paul.

  “That's the main man's bedroom,” said Scott from behind him. “Don't want to be rude, man, but you shouldn't go in there.”

  “Sure, I know,” said Brian. “I was just looking.”

  Scott peered over his shoulder into the empty bedroom. “Neat freak,” he said. “And a real top. Like old school, you know? Bet he's got some fun toys in there.”

  Brian wondered sadly if his toys were stored somewhere in that immaculate bedroom.

  He sighed.

  Scott gave him a quizzical look. “What's the problem, sugar? You look all pale and wan.”

  “Pale and wan? Are you kidding me?”

  “No seriously, you look like you need more meat.” Scott grinned. Slapped his own behind. “Got some right here.”

  Brian laughed. Scott was great.

  One morning, Brian came into the house and found Scott absent, but a pretty young woman in the kitchen.

  “Oh, hi!” About five two, with bouncy red curls. Tiny and freckled and wearing nothing but a pair of pink thong panties and one of Scott's T-shirts. She bent over the sink to turn off the tap, going up on her toes, and Brian considered her in an impartial way.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Kendra.” She sipped the water she had gotten and looked him up and down. “And you?”

  “Brian,” said Brian. He held his hand up to show the keys and his other hand out for a shake. “I water the plants.”

  “Oh,” she said. The hand that shook his was small, but the handshake was firm. “Scott and I... ” She dimpled, eyebrows raised. “I thought you were one of the roommates.”

  “They aren't here right now,” said Brian, feeling stupid. “Uh... you mean, you and Scott?” he waved a finger back and forth between Kendra and Scott's bedroom. “Are... ”

  Kendra shrugged. “He said I could use his shower. I don't have to be at work until two this afternoon, and he had to leave early.”

  This didn't even come close to answering Brian's question, but he gave up. Went to water the plants. And when he came back, a dressed Kendra was in the living room holding herself upright with a hand on a table while pulling a pair of impossibly high strappy sandals onto the tiniest feet Brian had seen in some time.

  “I made you uncomfortable,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

  “Huh?” Brian wondered how a person could have feet that small and remain standing. “No. I was only surprised.”

  “Scott said you guys are gay,” said Kendra easily. “But you don't hate girls or anything, right?”

  “Some of my best friends are girls,” said Brian. But I don't expect my fuck buddy to sleep with them.

  “Hi.”

  Scott was in his bedroom when Brian next came over to water the plants. He looked up at Brian standing in the doorway and grinned in that cheery way of his.

  “Hey there, sweetums.”

  “Um... I met Kendra.” Brian frowned and danced from foot to foot.

  “Yeah? She's a doll, isn't she?” Seemingly unconcerned, Scott opened a drawer and plunked folded shorts into it. Opened the one beneath it.

  Brian leaned against the doorway and folded his arms. He had no idea how to ask what he wanted to know.

  “Hey. You wanna see my collection?” asked Scott, pulling open a dresser drawer.

  “Collection?” asked Brian, peering into the dresser drawer. It was filled with dildos.

  “Wow.” Brian was kind of stunned.

  “Gets lonely out there on the road. I usually stick to the ladies when I'm a stranger in a strange land. But sometimes I need something wide and deep. Always pack a few friends.” Scott chuckled.

  Brian absorbed this information a chunk at a time. “You sleep with women?”

  “Sure, baby. I'm bisexual.”

  Oh. One of the dildos was about a foot long and bright shiny red. Brian was drawn to it as to a cherry Popsicle on a hot day.

  “Pick it up, sugar,” said Scott, his eyes knowing. “Get the heft of it.”

  Brian did. Oh. His cock and balls were tingling, his asshole tightening.

  “You can borrow it,” said Scott. “Anytime.”

  Brian's eyes slid from the shiny dildo to Scott's face. Oh, didn't he look evil.

  “Now, even,” said Scott, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “I can help.”

  Brian didn't know if he wanted to hit Scott with the dildo or hand it to him and drop his pants. He chose door number three. “What about Kendra?”

  Scott blinked. “You want Kendra to help?”

  Eww. “No,” said Brian, as to a slow child. “How would she feel about... your offer?”

  Scott did the blinkie thing again. “Oh! Oh, you think... ” He laughed. “I'm not made for monogamy, sugar. Kendra knows that.” For the first time a hint of something like worry creased the tanned forehead. “Didn't you?”

  It occurred to Brian that he was being judgmental on some level. “Sure,” he said. “It's not a big deal. I was only surprised. When I saw, you know, a girl here.”

  Now Scott looked seriously concerned. His whole demeanor subdued. Arms crossed, usually happy face somber. “Lot of fellas don't like bisexual men, Bri. You one of them?”

  “Of course not,” Brian said automatically. He looked at the dildo in his hand. At the muscular little teddy bear standing before him, arms crossed, well-filled boxers bulging. He thought of the diminutive woman he had seen in the kitchen the other day and set the dildo down on the dresser, feeling confused.

  “You sure?” Scott seemed to be growing smaller as he stood there, all of the bounce going out of him.

  Well, considering what Brian had been doing for the past several months in this bungalow, this was ridiculous. “Sure,” he said. He picked up the dildo again and pointed it at Scott like a lightsaber. “En garde,” he said.

  “Mmmroarrr,” said Scott. And he pounced.

  A few minutes later Scott was kneeling on the floor in front of Brian, who lay on his back on the bed with what felt like a yard of cherry red dildo up his ass

  “Hey. Hey, lie still now... ”

  “Shit, Scott,” Brian groaned and panted.

  “Yeah. I know. It's not the same, is it?”

  Brian moaned.

  “It's stiffer,” said Scott. “Mmm, and it, uh, never gives up.” He pulled the thing slowly out and pressed it in again. Brian whimpered. “You got enough lube?” asked Scott. He pumped the thing again.

  “Oooohhhh,” said Brian, arching, cock leaking a
cross his belly.

  Still sliding the dildo in and out, Scott rolled a condom over Brian's cock and then leaned forward so he could get his mouth around it. One hard suck. Brian gasped. Scott pulled off for a breath and chuckled. “You ready?”

  Then Scott sucked him down. Brian didn't even have the breath to scream. He just closed his eyes and came so hard he thought his balls would be gone when he was able to raise his head again and look down there— in a minute, after he'd had a nap.

  “Hey, you in there?” Brian's heavy eyelids opened enough to see a honey bear grinning down at him.

  “I'll take care of you in a minute,” he promised. “Need to catch my breath.”

  “Don't worry about it, hon. Got loverboy here.” Scott held up a big flesh-colored dildo. There was a buzzing sound coming from it, and the thing vibrated. Scott rolled over on top of Brian, his long cock nestled against Brian's belly. Brian felt the vibrating dildo placed in his hand.

  “Just help me out, sugar,” said Scott.

  “Aw, fuck,” moaned Brian, feeling his balls and cock trying to awaken.

  Scott chuckled and wriggled, that big cock poking into Brian's tummy. “Needing here, babe.”

  “Okay.” Brian gingerly felt for Scott's pucker with the blunt end of the dildo. He knew he'd found it when Scott screwed up his eyes and hissed.

  “Yeah. Right there. Aw, shit... ”

  Carefully and slowly, Brian inserted the thing while Scott humped and mumbled swear words against his chest. By the time Scott'd come, Brian's arm was numb and his hand was tingly, but the kisses and happy humming against his neck made it all worth it.

  “You need to go anywhere, darlin'?” asked Scott, yawning.

  Brian drew the covers up over them. “Nope.”

  “Good.” And Scott lowered his head and fell asleep, right there on Brian's chest.

  Chapter Four

  As Brian later imagined it, it must have been one of those coincidences. The kind engineered by the gods who punished Twinkie overindulgence.

  First there was Jim still searching for his keys, buried at the bottom of his knapsack. Then there was Paul's Harley roaring into the driveway.