Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Cubby Canuck

"So, do you have a thing for cubs?" he asks.

I had just grabbed him from behind.  His cute bubble butt in a pair of well worn and graying Aussiebum briefs just beckoned me.  He was scurrying away, trying to clean himself of his own DNA that I fucked out of him just moments before.  Yeah, one of those guys that just can't bear to have cum drying on themselves.  Even if it's their own.

I hugged him tight to my chest.  Big spoon to his little spoon, standing right there just inches away from the reprieve of the bathroom.  And as my one arm hugged him close, the other hand started to rub his small tummy, working the cum into the sparsely fuzziness.  He knew exactly what I was doing and giggled before playfully working himself out of my clutches and then pushing me back.

"Yeah, I have a little soft spot for the cub-types," I say, though immediately after I said it I kinda wondered why this came up.

He grunts.  It's a dismissive grunt tinged with disdain.  "Stop.  Don't you know that all cubs don't really want to be cubs.  They're all dying to be the twinks that they were a few years ago."

I really want to grunt the same condescending way he did.  I highly doubt that generalization.  The term has been coined as a source of empowerment to the point where they're a desired commodity.  And I kinda resented the implication that he was being used as a fetish instead of individually evaluated for compatibility in a discerning way, a method that goes beyond lazy generalizations.  But instead I asked, "So is your boyfriend Asian?"

"Well, yeah, he's Taiwanese but it's not like I've always liked Asians or exclusively seek them out."  Ha!  I didn't go there.  He's the one that did.  I think I successfully turned the tables so that he can empathize with the trap that he set me out on when he asked me the cub thing.

At that point, though, he was a little even more endearing.  For as much as he was extroverting confidence, there was a little bit of insecurity showing through.

Crazy Canuck.  I wasn't hard as a rock after donning the condom, wrecking his hole because of some idealized fantasy in my head.  I was hard like that because of him and the way we gelled together.

I reached out and pulled him to me into a kiss.  Pushing my body against his.  Making sure some of his cum will be smeared all over and impossible to get out.  Okay.  So maybe not a cub fetish exactly but a cum fetish admittedly so.

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