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Streetlight Bear

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 22 Oct 1999 1 comments
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by Morgan6 A few years ago I worked as a reporter for the Savannah (Ga.) Morning News, which meant I got off work about 1 a.m., sometimes later. During the summer tourist season and weekends, there was still a lot of activity going on downtown near the newspaper office, but more often than not, when I left work, I was the only one out on the streets. Savannah�s climate is semi-tropical, which means that even in late October and November, it�s not unusual for the temperature to be in the 80s, even in the early hours of the morning. One morning, just after midnight, there was no one left in the 2nd-story newsroom but the city editor at one end of a huge newsroom, and me, back in the back, next to the windows which overlooked the Circulation Department. It was here that the carriers gathered waiting for the papers to come off the press for delivery. As I looked down into the carrier lot, there was this guy, early 40s, who I�d seen several times before. He must have been a former military man, judging by the tight camouflage pants and T-shirt he always wore. The shirt was to tight, it looked as if it had been painted on, and even from my vantage point 30 feet away, I could see the outline of a refined set of pecs, chiseled biceps and abs that could bounce off a steel ball. Under the sheen of the florescent lights in the parking area, I could clearly see the black fur on his arms and creeping out the neck of the shirt. It matched a neatly trimmed moustache and jaw-line beard. We had a �No Smoking� policy in the building, but my editor was lax about it late at night and allowed the reporters to light up provided we opened a window. To get a better look at the sculpted bear under the street light, I opened one of the oversize windows at the back of the newsroom and sat on the windowsill, blowing smoke into the warm night. After a few minutes, my Marine bear glanced up, saw me sitting in the window frame and hoisted a wave. There were a few other carriers in the lot, but mostly they sat in their cars or paid no attention to me hovering overhead. In a few minutes, my bear friend began to cup his cock and balls, and even propped a foot on a nearby car fender, to give me a clearer vantage point of his ample package. Was he coming on to me? Him down there and me up here? I decided to find out and shifted my body to give him a telescopic view of my own equipment, and began rubbing my thigh with deliberate intensity. In no time flat, the bear had unbuttoned his snug trousers and hauled out a magnificent cock that, even from my 2nd story perch, took my breath away with its girth. �Jeez,� I thought, awestruck by the majesty of that monster dick. Without hesitation and to return the favor of such a splendid view, I unzipped my khakis and pulled out my own 8-inch tool, now fully extended by the visual show below and my own mounting lust. My reciprocity was rewarded as my bear friend began a humping motion with his hips, thrusting that pipe snake of his back and forward, occasionally catching a gleam of light on the head that sparkled like a diamond. I could no longer help myself, and joined in the rhythm, pumping my rod into the warm night air like some wind-up toy on automatic pilot. The dance didn�t last long. My bear friend reached a point we�re all familiar with and stopped, frozen-like, as a stream of glistening cum leaped from his dickhead, splattering on the fender of a grey Ford Tarus nearby. As soon as I saw his jizz springing from that zucchini of his, I reached my own point of no return and shot my wad out the window into the darkness of the ally below. Slowly, the two of us milked our respective cocks while staring at each other the entire time. When he finally buttoned up his meat, I confess I felt a deep regret, both that the dance was over and my dream bear was getting ready to go to work. I was more pleasantly surprised though as he got back in his car and drove a few feet, facing the vehicle away from my perch. Leaving the car running, he walked around to the rear window of his Honda and in the dust on the rear window, wrote with his finger: �Back tomorrow same time.� I vowed to finish work early the next day, but that�s another story for another night. M.