by Sable Sylvan
Goldie let out a small whimper. “But...Glen, if you’re my mate, how will you forgive me for sleeping with Brian?”
Glen chuckled as he ran his hands over Goldie’s body before taking in a sharp breath. “Oh, Goldie, you always worried to much...but I’m sure that you can find a way to earn my forgiveness. Plus, you know bear shifters will do anything for their mates: you think Brian and I are any different? I’m sure forgiving you would be an easy enough task for either of us.”
Glen propped Goldie further up onto the counter, her thigh covering the spot where their initials were carved. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” said Glen, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking at her face by the beam of moonlight that eked its way into the empty math classroom.
“Glen...if after this, I’m not your mate...then what?” asked Goldie.
Glen held up a finger to the curvy blonde’s lips. “Shh. Don’t think about that,” said Glen. “Don’t think about anything right now.”
Glen’s lips met Goldie’s, and any thoughts of guilt surrounding what had happened with Brian and the mate mark left her mind as she let her heart, rather than her mind, control her body. She opened her lips, letting Glen explore her mouth with his tongue, their mouths crashing together like waves against the shore, pulling themselves together while simultaneously pushing themselves away, over and over again.
Glen ran his hands down Goldie’s waist to her hips and then, her thighs, running two fingers of the fabric separating her sex from his body. “You’re already wet for me,” he growled. “It’s just like I’ve imagined.”
“You’ve thought about this before?” asked Goldie.
“Of course I have,” said Glen. “If you weren’t an absolutely amazing woman, Goldilocks, I wouldn’t have waited years to get inside your pants. No pussy is worth that much trouble...well, most aren’t.” Glen pulled the panties down, or at least, started to. He was met with some resistance on the part of the panties, so he hooked a nimble finger into one of the lacy eyelets and ripped the underwear right off.
“Hey, I liked those,” said Goldie, shooting Glen a glare.
Glen chuckled and shut Goldie up with a peck on the lips. “And they’re truly the perfect homecoming gift for your favorite bear shifter in Port Jameson, aren’t they?” teased Glen, holding them up to his nose and inhaling. “And you got them nice and soaked for me already. Perfect. What a nice souvenir.” Glen reached into his pants with the panties: Goldie thought he was pocketing them at first, but then she realized his hand was in the crotch of his pants.
“Well, go on, girl,” ordered Glen. “Open up the present I got you. It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? They say small things come in big packages usually...but my big package wants to come in your small box.”
“Jeez, you’re as dirty as the day I left,” said Goldie, putting her hand down Glen’s pants.
Glen gripped her wrist. “I’d suggest you stop yourself from mentioning that day around me, Goldie.” He released her wrist. “Now show me what you learned up in Seattle.”
“Then pull down your damn pants,” ordered Goldie as she got off the desk. “And show me what you’ve got.”
Glen chuckled as he pulled down his dark blue jeans, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs that were filled with a large sausage-like bulge in the front, a bulge that was growing with every one of Glen’s strokes, strokes that were long and steady.
Goldie got down on her knees, but as she lowered herself to the floor, she took Glen’s underwear waistband in her hands...and in her teeth. She pulled the underwear to the floor and watched as Glen kept masturbating himself with her own lacy panties, which were a tattered, beautiful, lacy mess.
Goldie took the panties out of his hand and tossed the underwear aside, but Glen said, “No. Put those in my pocket. I was serious when I said those were my souvenir.”
Goldie took Glen’s member into her mouth and swirled it, enjoying the gamy taste of a working man who didn’t taste like soap or lotion, but who tasted as a man should: of sweat, of desire for a woman. A drop of precum formed on the tip of Glen’s glans and Goldie sipped down like a precious salty pearl.
“Damn, your mouth...it feels so good,” said Glen, biting his lower lip as Goldie worked his dick with her mouth...but when she added in her hands, all bets were off. Goldie fondled Glen’s testicles with her hand, her fingertips lightly exploring the skin as she palmed the testes in her hand like two chestnuts, swishing them back and forth like dice at a casino, although it was Glen who had hit the jackpot. He knew more than a few shifters who had found their fated mate but found that the sex was less than satisfying. Of course, as they were loyal to their women, they just dealt with it, and jerked it a bit more than the average bear, but a woman like Goldie would keep any man, and shifter, satisfied, because she was working that cock like a pro.
Goldie swirled the shaft in her mouth, starting with the head, and made her way down the shaft, swirling her tongue around the shaft the entire time as if it was an ice cream cone, albeit an ice cream cone that got hotter and harder by the second. She could still smell the scent of her own essence on the shaft, leftover from the panties. She gripped the base of the dick as she made her way down the shaft, using her fingers like a cock ring, but soon, Goldie had hit the base of the shaft with her lips, her lips pressed against the skin of Glen’s hips, which she moved her hands to as she rocked the shaft in and out of her bobbing head, keeping Glen in place with her hands against his torso so that he wouldn’t buck into her mouth.
“Fuck, Goldie,” moaned Glen as he leaned back against the counter, gripping it so hard he swore his fingers would turn purple. He’d never been blown like this before, and he’d never expected that the woman he was in love with would be a world-class dick sucker. “If you keep doing me like this, I’m gonna melt in your fucking mouth.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” asked Goldie, taking her mouth off of Glen’s dick to ask the question, stroking the cock up and down and up and down while she looked up at him with her big, sex kitten eyes, her golden tresses falling around her face.
Glen pushed her hair back. “Oh, Goldie,” he said with a chuckle. “I want much, much more than just to fuck your mouth.” He pulled her up from the floor and propped her up on the desk. “But first, we’re going to have to get you out of those clothes, won’t we?”
Glen took the bottom of Goldie’s kimono top in his fingers and resisted the urge to rip it right off her like the pretty packaging it was, and instead, gingerly pulled the sash that kept the top closed, letting it fall against Goldie’s curves like a pair of theater curtains revealing the most beautiful of physical forms, Goldie’s body.
“What do you think?” asked Goldie nervously. She knew her body was “big”, that she was “curvy” and “plus size” and wasn’t exactly the kind of woman that was featured on the cover of magazines that advertised “30 Ways To Jumpstart Your Bikini Bod” (even if she knew far more than “789 Ways To Please Any Man”) and she didn’t know if the innocent adolescent crush that Glen had in high school would translate into something real, something adult, and something permanent.
Glen looked over Goldie’s every curve, from the gentle curve of her ample hips to the stronger curve of the narrowing of her waist, to the curves of her breasts, her soft shoulders, and the curves that made up the silhouette of her smooth face. The usually cocky bear shifter was awestruck by the absolute vision in front of him. She was Klimt’s muse, Aphrodite on the half-shell, Reuben’s angle, the spirit of each of the Sabine women, and most importantly, she was his, and she was glorious in the moonlight, but somehow, all he could think about was how amazing she’d look by the light of day, in a white dress and veil illuminated by sunbeams as golden as her hair. “You look amazing, Goldie,” said Glen, looking Goldie over as if he wasn’t quite able to digest the fact that she was there, she was wanting, and she was his. “You’ve always looked amazing.”
Glen pressed a finger to Goldie�
�s clit. “How’s that feel?” he asked, his cock twitching as his fingers felt Goldie’s warm wetness surrounding then and begging for more.
“I want more, Glen,” begged Goldie.
“More?” asked Glen, pressing the fingers against Goldie’s clit, harder, pulsing the fingers back and forth as if he was typing out an urgent message on a telegram machine.
“I need you, Glen,” moaned Goldie. “In me.”
“Of course you do,” said Glen. “You always have.” He pulled Goldie’s top away, letting it fall behind her while he unlatched her bra, exposing the full bounty of her bosom, each perfect breast overflowing in his large shifter hands, the roughness of his paw marks massaging, rather than scratching, at her torso. He moved one hand down her body, so that he could feel the curves of her waist, her hips, and finally, the wet cleft between her legs, which he opened and spread using only his rock-hard shaft, guiding it between the silky slit and rubbing it back and forth along the crevice, but not into her hole.
“Oh, Glen, that feels amazing,” said Goldie as Glen hit her clit with the head of his cock, gently pressing her clit into her body with his own manhood.
Glen rocked back and forth against that spot, making Goldie wetten with even more desire. “Moan for me, baby,” he ordered. “Let me hear how much you want me, how much you want this rock hard shaft.”
“Oh, Glen,” said Goldie with a moan, before she said it again, without time to take a breath. “Oh, Glen!”
“That’s right, say my name, baby,” said Glen as he slipped his cock down and moved his fingers to Goldie’s clit, rubbing it as he entered her hole with his shaft.
As Glen entered Goldilocks for the first time, he had to hold back because he was already so close to the edge of cumming. He had never felt a pussy as perfect as hers before: tight, warm, and wanting, it was as if her parts were blowing him. “God, Goldie, you’re so tight,” said Glen as the head of his cock drove into her pussy which, like her mouth, was able to take his full length in mere minutes, as he drove into her with long, strong strokes, sliding in over and over until he could go no further. Glen wrapped one strong arm around one of Goldie’s thick thighs, propping her up so he could drive himself even deeper into her body.
The sudden filling sensation caught Goldie by surprise. “Oh my God, Glen, you’re so big,” she moaned as Glen’s cock got not only longer, but fuller, girthier, filling her up from entrance to end.
Glen gripped Goldie’s hips and pulled her close as he drove into her, faster and faster, no longer able to hold himself back.
Goldie held Glen close with her arms around his back, her legs around his hips, and her lips pressed to his lips. As Goldie got wetter, Glen’s thrusts got faster and as his thrusts got faster, her pussy got wetter, tighter, juicier, and his cock got harder, firmer, and closer to the edge of cumming.
“Oh, fuck, babe, I’m so close,” said Glen. “You’re so fucking tight and juicy.” Glen’s eyes flashed, turning bright amber, not from the light of the moon, but from some inner light.
Glen’s muscles were still pressed against Goldie’s clit but because he was thrusting in and out of her pussy faster and faster, the speed of the rubbing motion had increased as well, and it was as if Goldilocks was being fucked by a rabbit vibrator, her clit and her pussy both getting strong stokes from Glen’s crotch. She couldn’t hold back anymore: her back arched as she felt the purest of physical ecstasy. She moaned aloud Glen’s name as he gripped her by the waist, her hips bucking up against his own but pushed back against the counter by the force of his rough thrusts.
Glen couldn’t hold back as he felt Goldie’s pussy sucking at his cock, milking him for all he had. He felt a quiver, a twitch, and then, the damn inside that was keeping the beast at bay let loose as a torrent of seed spilled out of his glans and into the curvy lass. As Glen exploded inside of Goldie, the mark on his chest glowed bright, golden light filling the space between the two, while his eyes glowed with an amber light.
As Glen unleashed, a second wave of pleasure ran through Goldie and she held him close with her arms clinging to his firm torso and her legs wrapped around his hips, as Glen kept pushing her, hard, into the desk until he’d faded back into softness.
Glen pulled his pants up and inhaled the panties that he’d kept in his pocket, ever insatiable. “I told you, you were my mate,” said Glen, pocketing the panties again. “Scratch that: you are my mate. You always have been and you always will be.”
Glen sat down on the counter next to Goldie. “Well, don’t you have anything to say? Or are you too busy planning the wedding in that cute lil’ head of yours?”
Goldie took in a sharp breath. She knew what she had to tell Glen: she had to tell him what she’d always told him, which was the truth. And the truth wasn’t going to be easy to say now, it’d never been easy to say, especially to hot-tempered Glen, who showed his every emotion on his sleeve, who was volatile and who ran as hot as Cliff ran cold, while being just as much of a mystery as Brian at times. “Glen...what I felt with you, it was special,” said Goldie. “But...”
“But what?” asked Glen.
“But...I felt the same thing with Brian,” admitted Goldie. “I’ve never felt that way with any other man, other than you and Brian, but now...things are more complicated that they were before.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated, Goldie,” said Glen. “You can get over Brian...you and I were meant to be together.”
“Were we?” asked Goldie. “Or have you just convinced yourself that you’re somehow owed something, because you waited for all those years?”
Glen got up from the chair suddenly. Something inside of him had snapped. “You really have no idea what it’s like for me, do you?” asked Glen. “To watch the girl that you know you’re meant to be with fall for the wrong guys and then, when it’s glaringly obvious that she’s meant to be with you, have to watch her walk away? I won’t watch you walk away, not again. No, Goldie...this time, it’s your turn to realize you’ve lost something.”
As Glen walked out of the classroom, Goldie saw him lift a hand up to his face. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath as she got off the table. “Glen, wait!”
“I have nothing to say to you,” said Glen, brushing Goldie’s hand off of his shoulder as he walked down the halls. “And I’d suggest you don’t make a scene.” Glen kept walking, through the double doors of the main hall and out towards the parking lot where he made his way to his car.
“Glen, wait, you can’t leave now,” said Goldie. She reached out to Glen but something was holding her back, literally, as Goldie was held back physically, first by the wrist, and then by the waist.
“Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind her that was familiar but deeper. “If it isn’t my fated mate...and here I was, thinking I’d have to hunt you down.”
Chapter Five
Goldie turned: there was only one man left that would touch her like that, holding her like she was his after not having seen her for years. Well, there’d been three, but now two of them were pissed off beyond belief at her and the tall icy blonde, with Siberian blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, with pale skin that seemed to glow from within like a diamond, was the only one that was able to tolerate her presence.
“No way...Cliff?” asked Goldie. She looked her familiar ‘friend’ over, from head to tail. There was no frikkin’ way that he’d come all this way for a high school reunion.
“What are you doing here? I heard you were in Alaska.” Taller than the other three men, with an extra layer of squishiness due to his shifter form’s natural icy habitat, Cliff stood out in the high school given that he was the only one that wasn’t wearing jeans and a casual t-shirt or a long-sleeved plaid flannel. No, of course, Cliff had to stand out as usual, in a preppy grey suit with black shiny shoes instead of ratty sneakers or work boots. At a fancy Seattle college reunion, he’d fit right in, but not in a place like Port Jameson.
“Alaska, Greenland, Antarctica, whereve
r it’s cold and people need doctors, it’s all the same, isn’t it?” said Cliff coolly, wrapping his arm around Goldie’s waist. In high school, he’d been taller than her, but now, he practically engulfed her with his strong arms and intimidating stature. “But I’ve heard that you’ve been having a rather, let’s say, hot, evening, is that right, Goldilocks?”
“What do you mean, ‘hot’?” asked Goldie.
“My sources tell me that you’ve been seen leaving the reunion with not one, but two men, the very two that broke up our friend group,” said Cliff. “Which means that by now, you’ve figure out that they aren’t your mates.”
“Which makes you what, my fated mate?” asked Goldie, following Cliff away from the main entrance of the school to one of the more private halls. All the halls looked the same, walled with rows of faded green lockers, and the school still smelled like gym socks, but it beat having to talk to Cliff around their high school classmates. “I’m not a bear shifter, Cliff, and I don’t have to play by shifter rules.”
“Well, like it or not, your little honey pot is what all the bears are after,” said Cliff crudely. He looked over Goldie: it was hard to tell that she’d been fucked twice that night already by the two men that he hated the most in the world. “You’re lucky I’m still in love with you, or I wouldn’t be so charitable in my descriptions of the night’s events.”
“That’s your idea of charitable?” asked Goldie.
“You leave with me, Goldie, and we can see if you’re my fated mate. If you are, if you aren’t, doesn’t matter, either way, this was a fun night for us, and we can write off your rather...unfortunate decisions to mingle with Brian and Glen as nothing more than impulsive mistakes made in the heat of the moment,” said Cliff, leaning in close to Goldie.