Pumpkin Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  “That’s totally understandable,” said Peter. “Shoot.”

  “Okay, my first question is for both of you — how old are you?” asked Pepper.

  “Thirty-two,” said Oliver.

  “Thirty,” said Peter.

  “Oh — I’m thirty-one, so I guess that makes Oliver the cradle-robber, and I’m the cougar, so that makes Peter the sugar baby,” joked Pepper. “Okay.”

  “Wait — you’re thirty?” asked Oliver.

  “Yeah, why?” asked Peter.

  “I thought you were, like, twenty-two!” said Oliver. “Why did you join Hemlock at thirty?”

  “Better late than never,” said Peter. “To tell you the truth…it’s kinda embarrassing. But…I tried doing things on my own. Bears, we’re solitary by nature — clans, packs, whatever you want to call them, they’re not things that come naturally to us. I have an older brother — playboy type — and he has the worst, most annoying kids ever. He never disciplines them. He’s never around. He leaves them to be his wife’s problem. I never wanted to be that kinda man — and I came out here, to reassess my priorities.”

  “So you weren’t just sent out here by your parents?” asked Oliver.

  “No — but most guys here, yeah, they were,” said Peter.

  “I never got how that worked,” said Pepper.

  “Anyone here can leave any time they want, but, many families put conditions on things, especially rich families,” explained Peter. “My parents are just happy I chose this path at all, given my brother didn’t. Other people’s parents promise trust funds, or startup capital, or sports cars, to get their kids to come here and get their shizz together.”

  “I’m at Grizzlyfir for the money, because it’s a group of folks I can get along with, and I’m friends with Darius,” said Oliver. “I grew up in Port Jameson. It’s that simple.”

  “I moved here from Seattle after college,” said Pepper. “I’d visited the town during a vacation with some girlfriends and just…fell in love. It’s hard not to.”

  “Hard not to fall in love with Port Jameson?” asked Peter. “Or…is it just hard not to fall in love, period?”

  “I mean…” started Pepper, blushing.

  “You can say it, you know,” said Oliver.

  “Say what?” asked Pepper.

  “Look — you put up with a lot of bullshizz from us,” said Peter. “There’s only one reason you would, and that’s…”

  “Isn’t it kinda soon to say that?” asked Pepper.

  “Whether you say it or not, your heart knows what it knows, and our hearts know what they know,” said Oliver. “Another time. Another question?”

  “What happens if I’m your mate — your fated mate?” asked Pepper.

  “We’re with you forever, and love you forever, the way we love you now — just, ya know, forever,” said Peter.

  “I don’t mean that — I mean logistically,” said Pepper.

  “Honestly, we can’t promise shizz because situations can change,” admitted Oliver. “That’s what it’s like for any relationship. What if tomorrow, Grizzlyfir folded and I got a new job, but it was in Washington? What if tomorrow, you developed an allergy to very handsome men? The only thing we can promise is that we’ll be there for you, we’ll work things out as they come up, and we’ll prioritize this ménage.”

  “And you can promise that for both you and Peter?” asked Pepper.

  “Of course he can,” said Peter. “If we were human guys, that would still be true. The reality is, Fate happens — but so does life. We love you, and we want to be with you and make things work, so come heck or high water, we’ll be around.”

  “I went from being horny to being sentimental,” said Pepper. “Fine — look. There are a million more questions I can ask, but, I don’t want to go too far down the horny-sentimental spectrum all the way to outright sobbing and watching chick flicks with you guys while we drink cocoa. That’s usually for the third date, right?”

  Pepper stood up and did something brave. She had thought about how she’d do it all day. Would she be sultry? Aggressive? Let them do it for her?

  At the moment, she just wanted to get it done, so she did.

  Pepper changed out of her clothes like she was getting changed at home, getting ready to slip into pajamas. There was no pomp and circumstance about it. Underneath, she was wearing some fancy-schmancy lacy items that she’d slipped on in the work bathroom before heading out to meet up with Peter and Oliver.

  “That’s…the best lingerie I’ve ever seen,” said Oliver.

  “It’s not too goofy?” asked Pepper shyly.

  “It’s perfect,” said Peter.

  Pepper was wearing orange satin and lace lingerie. The color was a burnt orange, the color of perfectly ripe pumpkins. The waistband of the thong and the ribbons on the bra were green and satiny. The ribbons were very curly. The panties tied up at the side and the decorations were extra long, so when tied, there were masses of curls at the sides of Pepper’s thighs. There were extra curls of ribbons at the center of the bra, which had a front clasp.

  Oliver flicked the clasp of the bra open, and the two cups came apart, but Oliver had to run his fingers underneath the cups, between the fabric and Pepper’s soft, moist flesh, and practically peel the bra cups off of her chest.

  Peter pulled the side ribbons of the lingerie loose. He picked apart one side, but the panties didn’t fall, held up by Pepper’s thick curves which embraced the ribbons like her honeypot would embrace her bears. He undid the other side, and the panties still stayed up.

  “These panties…they’re just like me,” said Peter.

  “And why’s that?” asked Pepper, as Oliver took her bra off, slipping the flimsy thing off her soft, curved shoulders.

  “Because they don’t want to leave you,” said Peter. He got down on his knees, put the top of the waistband of the panties in his mouth, and pulled them down. The thong underwear didn’t move more than a few inches, held tight to Pepper’s body by the curvy gates of her thick thighs.

  Oliver pushed Pepper to the bed. Peter lunged forward, ravenous, and cracked Pepper’s legs open. He moved his tongue down the panties, from the waistband to its most moist part. He curled his tongue between the panties and Pepper’s soft flesh, giving her entrance a quick flick with the tip of his tongue. He used his tongue to pull the panties into his mouth. Peter pulled himself up and away, tearing the panties out of Pepper’s body, and leaving her bare.

  As Peter pulled the panties away, Oliver pushed in and ran his tongue over Pepper’s honeypot, enjoying Pepper’s ‘pumpkin pie’ as he licked its wet surface.

  “Oh, frik,” cursed Pepper, gripping the sheets.

  “I told you — I love eating pie,” said Oliver, diving his face into Pepper’s folds and pressing his mouth against every part of her soft petals, from her entrance, flowing with juice, to her delicate parts around that hole, to the precious button that could only take the most delicate of touches.

  Oliver was not there to be delicate. He was there to eat pie.

  He dipped his tongue into Pepper’s honeypot. He swirled her sweet nectar over every inch of her inside folds and grazed his teeth against them. Pepper felt Oliver’s razor-sharp teeth against her softest parts and got goosebumps, worried Oliver would cut her, but then she felt his tongue on her clit. His broad tongue massaged her pleasure area and caused her to squirm. The squirming was instinctual, to move her clit out of Oliver’s line of fire — or was it a line of desire? But, Oliver pressed her smooth, fat hips down onto the bed and then, after giving her clit one more smooch, he went up for air.

  As Oliver got up, Peter went to go down. Pepper stopped him by closing her legs.

  “Enough oral,” said Pepper.

  “You don’t like it?” asked Peter.

  “I’m not here for that,” said Pepper. “You two have to make me come — but you two also have to come to claim me. I don’t exactly feel like sucking dick today, so that means I’m not looki
ng to suck two dicks. That’s just simple math. Here’s my question. Which one of you is gonna fuck me, right now?”

  Oliver and Peter looked at each other. Both wanted to be inside of Pepper — being first didn’t matter, but they just had to be inside her. But was Pepper testing them, seeing if they’d fight? They were like two dogs with treats on their noses, unsure if they were supposed to stop themselves from taking the treat, or just go for it and gobble it up.

  “Hello?” called Pepper.

  “Who do you want?” asked Peter.

  “You two figure it out,” said Pepper.

  “But you — ” started Oliver.

  “Whoever enters me can pick the movie we see tomorrow night,” said Pepper. “I’ll pay. Just get inside me — now.”

  Peter sauntered over toward Pepper, but Oliver pushed him to the side and slid right into Pepper. Pepper took all of Oliver’s length and let out a small moan. She was surprised that Oliver was playing dirty. She could get used to that.

  “And what movie do you pick?” asked Pepper, quirking a brow as Oliver cracked her legs open again.

  “Vampire Santa’s Zombie Revenge,” growled Oliver. “It’s a classic.” Oliver pulled out and slammed back into Pepper. Pepper wanted to reply, but each time Oliver pulled out and slammed back in, her sassy reply was punctuated with moans.

  “It’s a frikkin’ antique,” said Pepper with a laugh, even though Oliver was pummeling her, finally getting in a deep breath.

  “It’s a throwback — to our first date,” said Oliver. “Just you…me…some beanbags and snacks…and a blanket that didn’t give us nearly enough privacy.”

  “Yeah, well, movies are boring,” said Peter. “Step aside. Let me show you how we dance.”

  “I’m not done making my movie with Pepper,” said Oliver. “You did remember to set up a camera so we could watch ourselves later — right?” Oliver being sarcastic and sassy and downright dirty was a treat so deliciously naughty that Pepper was sure it must be a trick.

  “You wish — but let’s see what Peter’s got,” said Pepper.

  Oliver slid out, and Peter took his place. Immediately, Peter put one hand on Pepper’s waist, the other, keeping one of her legs spread away from her body.

  “This is what you call dancing?” asked Pepper. “I’ve never seen these moves before.”

  “Then that’s a crying shame — but the only tears I wanna see are the tears you cry out of joy when I make you come,” warned Peter. Peter ran his hands over Pepper’s curves. Pepper couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have two men that both appreciated her curves. They didn’t just like them, or like how they looked — they appreciated them. Every stroke from Peter on her thick full moon stomach was like a thanking. Every brush of his fingertips against her enormous bosom was like a kiss. Every gentle caress of her side rolls felt like being loving tucked in at the end of a long day, being tucked into her own bed at home.

  In their arms, she was home — curves and all.

  “Enough dancing,” growled Oliver. “Let me.”

  Oliver and Peter went back and forth, playing with Pepper’s body, introducing her to new sensations. Oliver’s style was straightforward and to the point. He was rough, wild, and wanting. Peter’s style was more nuanced and sensual — but Peter couldn’t control his urges forever. Soon, he started slamming into Pepper, just like Oliver, faster, and harder, and harder, and faster.

  Getting drilled hard and fast right in her G spot over and over and over again was something Pepper had never experienced. As soon as one of the bears was starting to lose steam, the other took the helm and rode her hard, before they switched places, again, and again, and again.

  Pepper had been both right and wrong about Oliver and Peter. Yes — the two bears fought and were competitive, and it was aggravating. Yes — things were better when they worked together. However, they could work together and be competitive, as their contest to out-fuck one another proved.

  Pepper had never been a drama queen, but she realized that maybe…just maybe…she should encourage a little more friendly competition between the bears, a little more often.

  Pepper was knocked out of her musings by her body, which was screaming at her to pay attention to the frikkin’ bears! Oliver had just taken the helm, and he flipped Pepper over so she was on her stomach instead of her back. He roughly arranged her legs and slid into her, pounding and drilling and twisting and entering her rapidly, over and over, and over and over, and over…and over…

  The feeling of being fucked by Oliver’s rapid random thrusts gave Pepper a heady feeling. It was the feeling she got when she smelled smoky incense. It was the feeling she got when she tasted cardamom. It was the sensation of something so good, it made her eyes roll back a bit and caused her body to relax, relax, relax…and melt into a puddle of nothing.

  As Pepper relaxed and sank into the sheets, something left her, like a ghost leaving its mortal coil. Something had been inside Pepper, waiting to burst out. It was the flickering candle in a carved-out pumpkin, given new life by the autumn wind — perhaps that same ghost from the previous overly flowery metaphor.

  It was her orgasm, and although it didn’t come out wearing a white sheet and shouting, ‘Boo!’ it came.

  It sure came.

  It came hard.

  Although the orgasm didn’t shout ‘Boo!’ Pepper did go, “Ooh!” She moaned as she came, feeling all the tension she’d pent up get released in a single series of staccato seconds. One pulse around Oliver’s cock — there went her anxiety about the pumpkin patch. Another press of his firm cock against her entrance — and poof, there went her inhibitions about the ménage. Pepper kept moaning with relief as Oliver kept slamming into her.

  Pepper had come quickly. It was a surprise to both Oliver and Peter, who knew that they had to race to the finish line. Oliver slammed into Pepper harder and faster, feeling her pulsating vibrations around his cock, and unleashed into her as his eyes glowed blue. Pepper felt Peter enter her hard and fast, while Oliver’s cum was still hot in her canal, and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have two men that were willing to do whatever dirty deeds it took to claim her.

  Peter spilled into Pepper, his eyes flashing eldritch green, and slid out of her. Pepper lay on her back and looked over at Peter and Oliver, wondering if they’d really been able to do it — if they’d managed to claim her.

  “Uh…are your eyes supposed to be doing that?” asked Pepper.

  “Doing what?” asked Peter, eyes glinting green.

  “Your eyes…” started Oliver, his eyes flashing blue.

  “Your eyes!” said Peter.

  “Your chests!” said Pepper, putting her hands on their chests. The pumpkins were frikkin’ glowing!

  As the trio came, the marks on Oliver and Peter’s chests had started to glow. They flashed bright orange for a second, and then, the glow disappeared — but not without leaving a new message from Fate. Pepper couldn’t believe it. Black marks appeared on their chests. Peter’s chest had black triangles and irregular shapes, while Oliver’s had crescent moon shapes. They formed two familiar symbols, symbols that were similar but not altogether the same.

  “You two…your marks…they’re…they turned into jack-o’-lanterns?” asked Pepper, running her hands over the marks. The black marks felt like they were sunken into the skin — although to be fair, the burnt orange marks felt thick and almost seemed to lay atop the skin. Oliver’s jack-o-lantern had mystical moon-like rounded features, while Peter’s jack-o-lantern looked like a stereotypical Halloween jack-o-lantern. They were both jack-o-lanterns, but different. They were part of a set, but still distinct entities. Just as the two werebears were in a ménage, but were different, their marks were in a set — but still their own things.

  “You’re saying that like it’s a question,” said Peter.

  “I mean…I’m just surprised,” admitted Pepper. “I didn’t know mate marks could change like that.”

  “Most peopl
e don’t,” said Oliver. “So…keep the secret?” Oliver held a finger up to his mouth and shushed Pepper, winking at her teasingly.

  “And if I tell?” asked Pepper.

  “Well…then I’d have to get a cop costume and teach you the meaning of shifter law,” joked Oliver. “Good thing costumes will be on sale after Halloween.”

  “The pumpkins…they’re on your chests because of me, but, their final design, that’s because of the time of the year,” Pepper realized. “Good thing you claimed me now. If you waited until Thanksgiving, the designs would’ve gone from big, plump pumpkins into gooey piles of mush.”

  “Have we given you a very happy Halloween?” asked Peter.

  “Well…a happy Halloween season, yes,” said Pepper. “I just feel like we’re still trick-or-treating, and Fate, well…when we’re in her neighborhood, I don’t think Fate particularly cares if you prefer a treat or a trick. She’s giving out everything from king-size candy bars and peanut butter cups to boxes of raisins and toothbrushes.”

  Chapter Ten

  Over the next week, things had gone much better. Dating two guys at once was harder than dating one guy at once. They were all still new to the relationship, and there were growing pains, but nobody was trying to tear each other apart. For Pepper, that was a win.

  Pepper showed up to the bakery at the usual time. She brewed up a carafe of coffee and grabbed three mugs and some sugars and creamers. She threw some day-olds on the tray and carried it out to the deck, where one of the Grizzlyfir picnic tables had already been set up. They’d been using it for the meals. It beat having to run back up to the patio every time that they wanted a seat.

  But, when Pepper walked into the pumpkin patch, she nearly dropped the tray.