Bear Bait

Skinshift: Bear Bait Carlanime Bligh All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Carlanime Bligh

ISBN: 978-1-60521-434-4

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Changeling Press LLC

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Editor: Chrissie Henderson

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Skinshift: Bear Bait Carlanime Bligh Joshua hasn’t seen Beo since their days at university, but when he gets word Beo needs him, their political differences can’t keep him from rushing to his friend’s side. But Beo’s been caught in the crossfire of a magical counterattack intended to repel invasive nanoprobes, and he’s not the same man Josh remembers. For one thing, now he’s a bear shifter. For another? He can no longer deny how much he’s always wanted Josh.

Chapter One Joshua mounted the cold stone steps of St. Achilleus Interfaith Center with a growing sense of unease. The place radiated chill in spite of the August sun. He’d felt uncomfortable since stepping off the train at Brush Creek, the down-at-the-heels suburb of Divers City, and not just for the usual tourists’ reasons: fear of robbery, organ theft, attack by rogue droids or outbreaks of nano-mutagens. He’d lived in cities for a good part of his life, after all. No, what had Joshua’s nerves jangling was more basic. Ever since he’d gotten the email from Beo Anderson he’d been on edge. They’d been friends as undergrads, but they’d had little enough in common, even then. They had even less now. Beo had sent the email from his parish computer, proof enough that he inhabited a whole different world to Josh’s Druid-punk lifestyle. Josh was nomadic; Beo was so settled cobwebs formed on him. Josh was a thirty-year-old hacker, a rebel, an artist; Beo, apparently, had made good on his plan to enter the clergy. As always, the irony of their names made Josh smile. His was unsuitably biblical. Beo’s full name, even less appropriately, was Beowulf. Mind you, some of the people huddled on the stairs and sitting on the basement windowsills of this church looked more like Joshua’s tribe -- the tattoos and piercings were reassuring. On the other hand, the group gathered at the enormous oak doors was middle-aged, conservatively dressed and probably hostile. He thought he detected disapproving glances as he approached them, except for one elderly lady holding an enormous set of medieval-looking keys who looked relieved to see him. “You must be Joshua Lutra.” Her voice was kindly. Was he imagining things or were the others exchanging guilty looks? “Thank you so much for responding to my email, and for agreeing to come here.”

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“Wait. Your email? The email came from Beo…” She shook her head sadly. “No, Mr. Lutra, I’m afraid that was a small deception on my part. Pastor Anderson hasn’t been in any condition to compose emails. Most of the time he seems to feel too depressed -- says he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his problems, that sort of thing. And then, when he’s having one of these crises, well… he really can’t write at all.” Joshua felt a stab of real fear. The email had sounded bad enough, but this was worse than he’d expected. “But he talks of you often.” She smiled warmly. “I thought if anyone could bring him around, perhaps you were the one. His parishioners need him, dear. Can you convince him of that? We understand his life is changing, really we do. But we still want him here.” Joshua glanced back to find himself at the center of a dozen pleading looks and one or two glares of frank disapproval. What the hell was going on here? “I know his wife left him a couple of years back. That must have been hard.” But the Miss Marplelooking lady shook her head, so whatever had incapacitated Beo, presumably it wasn’t that. Joshua gave up, reasoning it would be easier to get the story from Beo. “I’ll just go and see him, then.” A thought struck him. “Does he even know I’m here?” “We told him you’d been sent for, dear, but frankly I don’t think he had much hope you’d come through for him.” Well, that made sense. They hadn’t seen each other for years, and Beo had never known how Joshua had felt about him behind their endless political arguments. He’d probably assumed Joshua had never given him another thought. The little old lady was already unlocking the doors, which two grim-faced men swung open -- but only, he noticed, partially open, as though they were preventing anyone from rushing in. Or from escaping, he thought uneasily. Just how bad a condition was Beo in, exactly? The email had mentioned depression and turmoil. Had that been meant as an euphemism for “deranged”?

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He stepped into the cool, dark interior of the church. St. Achilleus was small but solidly built, a perfect example of mid-twenty-second century Gothic revivalism, designed less for beauty than to provide sanctuary during the waves of riots and militia crackdowns. Nevertheless, there were unexpected grace notes: a flourish of handcarved faces and flowers adorning the pews and altar screen, small but perfect stained glass windows placed high enough to be immune from vandalism, lovingly bound gilt and leather hymnals. Joshua, always attuned to beauty, felt himself relax in spite of the alien beliefs held here. This was a sacred space by virtue of its importance to the people it belonged to; he could respect that, even if he couldn’t quite share it. Much like his youthful interactions with Beo, he thought ruefully. They’d never seen eye-to-eye, to put it mildly, but there was no doubting the sincerity of his hulking, bearded friend. Beo had embodied kindness and reliability even as a young man, which had made it all the more infuriating, in Joshua’s opinion, when he did incomprehensible things like voting Conservative. Or admiring the police. Or approving of modesty fads and back-to-the-homestead movements. As far as Josh was concerned, the whole patriarchal, traditional-values shtick was just a series of excuses to disenfranchise anyone different. It had driven him nuts that someone he liked as much as Beo could support any of it. The doors swung shut behind him, and to his dismay Josh heard the tumblers of the lock falling into place as the key turned. With no time for him to react, there was a movement in the shadows and Beo stepped forward, as huge as Josh remembered -- a full half foot taller than Josh’s own six-feet-two inches and as broad as a lineman. He was uncharacteristically unkempt, his hair and thick beard disheveled, his shirt untucked. His eyes gleamed. “Joshua.” His voice was hoarse, as if from disuse. “I never believed you would really come here.” And then he wrapped his arms around Josh and lifted him, holding him close. The heat radiating from his body was incredible. Josh, his arms pinned to his side, was too startled to speak. Beo’s hands shifted, grabbing Josh’s ass, and Josh found himself

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straddling Beo’s waist for balance. He blushed, unable to believe this was happening. To his intense confusion, he felt Beo’s erection, huge and hard, rubbing against his own crotch. “Beo.” He managed to get the word out and then couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Beo seemed oblivious, or, at least, unconcerned. His huge hands pulled Josh even more firmly against his body as he nuzzled Josh’s neck affectionately. Josh’s own cock responded now as the sensations flooded him -- Beo’s warm, moist breath, the strength of his grasping hands, and most of all that enormous erection, rubbing insistently against Josh’s. What the hell had happened to his staid, conservative friend? But there was no time to think and no possibility of escape; all Josh could do was react. He almost couldn’t believe it, but he was losing control. He was going to come this way -- fully clothed -- something that hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. Blushing, Josh writhed in Beo’s arms, trying one last time to get away before he disgraced himself. The movements only made the friction worse, more incessant, more intense. With a small yelp, Josh felt himself spurting, the other man’s huge cock grinding against him the entire time. Afterward, Beo set him down lightly, clearly unashamed of his own bulging cock, and held Josh’s arm for a moment as if concerned he might collapse. “I’ve been sleeping up by the altar,” he said conversationally, as though nothing extraordinary had happened. “We can make you a bed up there. I have plenty of blankets and pillows. It’s almost like camping out.” He smiled then, but weakly, and Josh thought maybe the experience of being locked in his own church like a fugitive might be the explanation for everything that happened. Hell, it would unhinge anyone to be treated that way, let alone Beo who’d always had so much respect from the mainstream community. But then, that left the question of why they’d locked him in to begin with. “Beo, what’s been going on? Why are you camping out in your own church? Why did your parishioners send for me?” He managed not to ask why it had been him,

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of all people, they’d sent for and not someone Beo might have respected more. Or had more in common with. Beo sighed. “It started a few months ago. You know, don’t you, that Divers City was the center of a lot of nano-attacks?” When Josh nodded, he continued. “You probably don’t know that it was also at the heart of some weird retaliations. Some of the fringe groups in the city started it. Shamanistic techniques, spell casting, all sorts of measures that they claimed would “preserve our humanity” and keep us from being… mechanized, I guess you could say. They were fearful that rogue nanotechnology would forever render them less than human, that they were losing their souls to an invasive technology.” Beo coughed, looking embarrassed. “I admit I had a lot of sympathy for their position, if not their methodology. When rumors started up that government agents were being sent in to question them, I let a number of them camp out here in the church basement. They organized their own exodus from the city in the end, but I like to think I gave them a fighting chance.” Josh was impressed. He’d heard about the so-called “magical” rebellion; word had spread throughout the underground. But he never would have dreamed that calm, reliable Beo would have gotten caught up in it. He whistled. “So, what? The church council turned on you for aiding and abetting the freethinkers? Bastards.” Beo gave him a mildly disapproving look. “Don’t say that, they’re lovely people. They’re the reason I’ve survived at all. I’d have been on the streets by now if it weren’t for them. I probably wouldn’t even remember my own name.” Joshua was confused. “Then what happened? Why are you locked in here?” “It’s late. It will be dark soon.” The church had been growing steadily more shadowed as they spoke, though Josh had barely noticed until Beo pointed it out. “Let’s light some candles, get a place set up for you to sleep, and have something to eat. I’d rather save the difficult conversation for morning, if you don’t mind.”

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“I don’t mind.” Really, what else could he say? Besides, it was obvious now that Beo wasn’t raving or dangerous. Insanely oversexed, but on balance Josh didn’t mind that part much. At all. Beo side-hugged him, a comradely gesture, though Josh couldn’t help sneaking a peek down and seeing that his old friend was still semi-hard. “Thank you, Joshua. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here.” With his heart thudding painfully, Joshua bit his tongue to keep from replying that he’d have gone any distance if he thought Beo had need of him. The old crush was back, stronger than ever. Pity it was still impossible for him to admit the fact to a man as conservative as Beo.

Chapter Two It must have been after midnight when Josh woke. In spite of the hard floor, he’d fallen asleep surprisingly quickly. Beo had built him a kind of nest with layers and layers of blankets, and once they’d shared sandwiches and a couple of beers, Josh had crawled into the snug warmth and collapsed, oblivious to the hard floor. His last thought had been a flicker of shame at the stiff stain of his own cum on the front of his jeans. Beo hadn’t mentioned the damp patch, but he must have noticed. Though it was entirely Beo’s fault Josh reminded himself, feeling slightly humiliated by his eager loss of self-control. If Beo thought about it at all, he’d probably know by now how attracted to him Josh had always been. Waking, Josh lay still, wondering what he’d heard. Then it came again -- a snuffling sound, as if some huge animal stood nearby, sniffing the air. The noise grew closer, and Josh stiffened, terrified. Something had brushed his leg, something that felt like an animal’s snout. Cautiously, Josh eased himself back, away from whatever it was, and groped for the matches and candle he’d left within arm’s reach. With a hiss the match flared, and Josh saw him by the tiny flame. Beo. Beo knelt before him on all fours, sniffing the air. Naked. And erect again.

*** Beo knew his own voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Joshua. I need you.” He felt himself trembling with raw need. His appetite threatened to overpower him. It was only with an enormous effort of will that he kept from throwing himself on the smaller man without waiting for his permission.

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The match Josh clutched went out, and Beo smiled in the darkness. With his new eyes he could see as clearly by night as by day, and he took advantage of the blackness now to stare hungrily. Josh hadn’t changed much in the ten years since they’d roomed together. He was as thin as ever, but now his lithe frame was overlaid with muscles, as though he worked out hard and regularly. His black hair, once long, was now clipped shorter, but even with it bobbed he reminded Beo of Prince Valiant. It had been a point of contention between them. Beo winced, recalling more than one occasion when he’d berated his friend for looking like an unkempt hippie. Truth be told, Joshua had always looked disturbingly cute, and it had bothered Beo far more than he’d wanted to vocalize at the time. It seemed like such a waste now -- all those years of denying his own needs. He’d believed he was doing the noble thing, living up to some standard of behavior he’d accepted without question. Now it all struck him as hypocrisy, and worse than that, as ingratitude for the desires his healthy young body had been blessed with. Now, of course, it was impossible for him to deny himself. His true self had asserted itself, thanks to the influence of the magic-working refugees he’d sheltered in the basement. He lowered his head, sniffing unabashedly at Joshua’s crotch. Above him, light flared as Joshua struck another match and managed to light a candle. “Beo?” His voice shook, but more with amazement than fear if Beo’s nose could be trusted. “Joshua.” He knelt back and reached with both hands to unzip Joshua’s jeans. “Please don’t pull away. Give me what I need.” He helped the other man stand. Joshua’s one-eighty or so pounds felt like nothing to him now -- he could have lifted him with one hand. Easing Joshua’s jeans to thigh-level, he sniffed appreciatively. Joshua’s cock sprang obediently to life beneath his hot breath. “Beo.” Josh sounded disbelieving, but not unwilling. Beo wrapped his arms around Joshua’s thighs, pulling him forward and off-balance, engulfing the entire

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length of his cock. “Oh, my God, Beo.” Joshua was trembling in his arms, his feet off the ground, his erection pulsing against Beo’s tongue. Beo sucked greedily, insistently, and Joshua writhed in ecstasy in his arms. Drawing his head back, Beo twirled his tongue around the sensitive tip of Josh’s cock and then lapped at the full length of him before sucking it into his mouth once more. God, he tasted good. The trickle of pre-cum only made Beo more maddeningly aroused. His own cock was huge and hard now, jutting out almost painfully, demanding attention. Carefully, Beo lowered Joshua to his knees, favoring the smaller man with one admiring glance before standing before him. “Joshua. Suck me off. I need your mouth before I make you come.” Joshua gave him a dazed, disbelieving look before looking down at Beo’s erection. Beo watched the blush stain Joshua’s chest and neck and then creep higher, so even his ears were pink. Resting one steadying hand against Beo’s thigh, he licked Beo’s cock with long, slow strokes of his tongue that had Beo grasping a handful of black hair to pull Josh closer, forcing himself past those pouting, tempting lips. “God, yes, Josh. Take it all. Swallow me.” He pumped his hips forward. He wanted to go slow, to make this last forever, but he couldn’t hold back, especially when he noticed Josh was involuntarily arching his own hips, wildly turned on by sucking Beo’s cock. With a shudder that shook his whole body, Beo came, his cock pulsing and spraying jet after jet of creamy wetness to the back of Joshua’s throat. He could hear Josh gulping, trying to keep up, and see the trickle of wetness at the left corner of his mouth, and it made his orgasm all the more intense. It felt as though his entire body was throbbing in time with his erection. Collapsing to his knees, Beo pulled Joshua to him, cradling the other man against his chest. Josh’s jeans felt rough against Beo’s bare skin. Reaching down, he stroked Joshua’s cock, slowly at first, then pumping his fist harder. He felt Josh’s ass clenching against his lap as his climax approached, and then Josh was coming for him. “Beo, oh,

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please, Beo.” Josh tilted his head, kissing Beo frantically. Beo, still stroking Josh, kissed him back tenderly, oddly touched by the gesture. Afterward, Josh crawled back into his pile of blankets, looking spent and thoroughly bewildered. “Beo,” he murmured as he fell asleep, “why have you changed so much?” Beo stroked his hair gently but didn’t answer. What would Josh do, he wondered, if he admitted he’d dreamt of this for years?

*** Over coffee the next morning, Josh decided it was time he found out what was going on at St. Achilleus. “So, all this stuff about you being depressed and needing a friend. This is what that email was about? You’ve found out you’re gay?” Beo looked wounded. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m such a bigot I’d fall apart over wanting yo -- wanting men?” Josh plunged back into bewilderment. “If it’s not that, then what the hell is it? Why are we locked up in here?” But even as he spoke, he heard the key turn in the lock, the small sound echoing in the empty church. The door scraped the stone floor as it opened, and there stood the elderly woman of the day before with half-a-dozen Goths and punks trailing her, each with a gas mask swinging from their hand. Not a good sign. Either a pollution front was rolling in or, worse yet, a nanocloud had been spotted. The nanorobotic particles had, according to official sources, been accidentally released from labs, but not everyone was convinced that was the truth. Some of their side effects -- such as increased obedience and productivity -were suspiciously beneficial to heavy-handed governments. Little wonder that an array of groups, from anarcho-punks to urban wiccans, had devoted themselves to defeating the things. The elderly lady peered hopefully into the relative gloom of the interior. “Pastor Anderson? Some of your youth group have shown up. Do you feel up to meeting with them?”

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“Miss Janes. How wonderful.” Beo stood, smiling broadly, and strode to the back of the church. While he was ushering the teenagers to the kitchen in the basement, the woman approached Joshua, looking delighted. “I knew it would work.” She clasped Josh’s hand for a moment, patting it approvingly. “He’s spoken of you so often I knew you had to be the one who could help him in his present troubles.” “Oh?” Josh said weakly. He hoped Miss Janes had no idea what sort of help he’d been providing so far. “Oh, yes. I’ve seen it before, you know. Once they change, they need a companion. A mate, I suppose you could say. Well, it’s what you’d expect, isn’t it? Animals are so much more loyal than people, you know. They mate for life after all, many of them. So naturally that carries over.” Josh was beginning to wonder if there was something about the church that drove everyone connected with it around the bend. He had no idea what she was talking about; she seemed to be randomly leaping from topic to topic. He struggled to find something to say. “Beo does look better this morning.” Unfortunately, saying that reminded him of just how good Beo had looked in the night, naked and erect. He felt himself blushing. Miss Janes politely ignored this. “Of course he does, dear. He has what he needs now. My sister Athena was the same way when she turned.” The conversation was making Josh’s head spin. “Would you mind if I stepped outside? I think I need to get some air and clear my head.” Clucking worriedly, she made him wait until she’d produced a mask from the vestry, and cautioned him not to go too far. “Things may be a bit erratic around St. Achilleus these days, but at least you know you have friends here.” Actually, Josh didn’t know any such thing. He’d never been particularly churchy to put it mildly, and as an adult he’d found a spiritual home in neo-Druidry. He couldn’t see that garnering him much sympathy from a bunch of elderly churchgoers.

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Then again, they were standing by Beo. And their youth group certainly looked… non-typical. Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss them. Outside, the sky was overcast and ominously dark -- not the healthy dark of rain clouds, but an ominous amber-tinged cover that threatened incoming particles. Everyone on the street was carrying a mask and casting nervous glances upward. A surprising number of people still stood around the church, as though that was where they chose to be should disaster strike. Glancing back at the building, Josh took in the tiny rainbow crest next to the door, the emblem of the Free Denominations. Huh, funny. He hadn’t noticed that before. Had Beo pulled his church into the FD association recently? Or had he sought out an FD church back when he was ordained? For the first time, Josh began to wonder if his undergraduate self had jumped to a lot of unfounded assumptions about Beo. He didn’t stray far. The sky was putting him on edge, so he just circled the block, his thoughts circling Beo the whole time. Back inside, the church was bustling. Beo was organizing a food drive, in case, he explained in passing, it became too dangerous for ordinary people to go outside. “But if they can’t go outside, how will they get these supplies?” Josh wondered aloud, but Beo had already been whisked away on some other errand. An elderly parishioner took a moment to explain. “Those of us who are immune to the particles will do door-to-door deliveries.” That made no sense. No one was immune to the particles, that was the whole point of them. They seized on anyone with a human genome and went to work rerouting difficult impulses -- like free thought, and rebelliousness, and cravings for drugs, or for sex -- into compliant nothingness. To resist, you’d have to be… well, something other than human. Josh shook his head. He supposed the people at Beo’s church just didn’t have enough understanding of how the particles worked. But in that case, he decided, he should warn Beo. Anyone trying to do deliveries during a nano attack was putting themselves at risk.

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Trouble was, he couldn’t get Beo’s attention long enough to explain. He’d never realized the ministry was so labor intensive or so chaotic. Beo was running a dozen projects at once, from food drives to mask collection to printing up flyers explaining how to protect your household from pollution and nano attacks, all with very little equipment and a handful of disorganized volunteers. It reminded Josh, just a little, of events he’d been part of. He pushed that thought away. This was an inner-city church, not a rock concert or an underground dance club or a pagan campground. However much it might remind him of his own cherished projects, this wasn’t the same. There was no place for him here. All too soon evening fell, and he hadn’t found a moment alone with Beo. But that, he saw, was about to be rectified. He and Beo were being locked in for the night again. “I’m so sorry, dear,” Miss Janes apologized. “But until we’re sure the bond has taken hold, we can’t risk letting him out. We need to be sure he’s happy. He’s too dangerous right now without some tie to pull him back to himself. You understand.” Josh didn’t understand, not even a little bit, but he found he didn’t care. He was, he admitted to himself, looking forward to another night with Beo. Hell, he’d take all the nights on offer. And Beo was making up one large nest for them instead of two separate ones. Josh felt his heart beat faster. Beo saw him watching. “With the cloud cover it’ll be cold tonight.” In spite of the gruffness of his comment, Josh could see the warmth in his eyes.

Chapter Three Josh woke, disoriented by the ice-cold darkness. There it was again. Some sort of large animal sniffing close to his hair. With every nerve twitching in alarm, Josh forced himself to reach out calmly for the matches and light a candle. This time when he turned his head, he saw the bear. It was fucking huge, impossibly huge, like a Kodiak or something prehistoric. It was on all fours, the huge snout so close to Josh’s face that he could feel its breath -- and then its tongue as the creature tasted him. Josh would have screamed if he could have made himself draw a breath, but panic had gripped his chest like a vise. Then the animal blurred, and when it came back into focus… it was Beo. Beo, crouched on all fours, nuzzling Josh’s face. Josh exhaled, feeling faint. “Now you know.” Beo’s voice was soft in the darkness. “I… know what? Beo, what the hell just happened?” Beo’s teeth flashed white in a smile. “When the rebels stayed here in the church, some of the magic they were working went a little askew. You might say I was caught in the crossfire.” Josh stared in disbelief. That was completely, utterly ridiculous. Even with the evidence before his eyes, he found himself struggling to find a more rational explanation than the one Beo was offering. “Beo, that’s… that’s impossible.” Beo sat next to him, wrapping his arms around Josh as easily as if they’d been lovers since the day they met. Perhaps in some sense, Josh admitted, they had, not physically but emotionally. His heartbeat grew less erratic in the safety of Beo’s embrace, but didn’t slow -- now it was excitement, not fear, that made his palms wet. “I’d have thought so too, Josh, once. But I suppose I have to accept their magic as a kind of prayer -- and accept this as the answer, however weird an outcome it is.

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Something about the spells cast here destabilized my DNA. Most of the time I’m human. The rest of the time…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. Josh was remembering the confusing conversation he’d had earlier. “So you really are immune to the nano attacks.” Beo nodded. “Consider that one of the benefits. I’m less vulnerable to that kind of tampering. Less concerned with appearances too. I think somehow I’m more myself as a shapeshifter than I’ve ever been -- as though having my animal nature brought to the fore has made me more honest with myself.” He blushed as he spoke, and Josh could guess why. “This thing between us…” He found he couldn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Beo was already nodding. “I’ve wanted this for years, Josh. Wanted you ever since we first knew each other. It just seemed impossible to admit until now; but now it’s even more impossible to deny. I’m just sorry I wasted so much time.” Josh tilted his head back and kissed Beo, almost shyly. “Then let’s not waste another second.” There was nothing shy about Beo’s kiss. It was demanding, and his hand gripped Josh’s naked thigh, sending shivers of excitement up his spine and making his cock spring to life. Immediately, Beo’s fingertips found Josh’s erection, caressing him with a feather-light touch that made him twitch and gasp. Beo broke their kiss, placing one strong hand on Josh’s face to force him to maintain eye contact. “I want to be inside you, Josh. Are you ready for that?” Not “are you willing?” or “do you want me?” Josh noticed, flushing. Beo sounded entirely confident that Josh would want him. He was right. Josh couldn’t keep from glancing down at the huge erection jutting firmly from the tangle of Beo’s brown hair. Unlike Josh’s relatively smooth torso, Beo’s chest had a thick line of fur, leading the eyes all the way to his cock. “I…” Josh gulped, took a breath, and tried again to speak. His voice came out in a whisper. “I’d like that.

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But go slow, okay?” He’d had lovers before, but most had been less, well, intimidating. Beo was huge. Beo grinned. “I’ll start slow, darling boy, and I’ll be as gentle as I know how. But damn it, Josh, I’ve wanted this so much, I’m not sure how long my self-control will last.” His words only excited Josh more. He could feel his cock pulsing in Beo’s hand, perilously close to spilling. He pulled away, positioning himself on all fours in front of Beo. “Will this do?” Crouching, Beo lapped his tongue across Josh’s dangling balls, which were rapidly tightening. His tongue found its way to Josh’s entrance, where it teased and probed for a long moment, pulling back just before Josh could give in to his need and start jerking himself off while Beo tongued him. Damn it, his timing was perfect, bringing Josh right to the brink before stopping. Who knew someone so strait-laced could be such a consummate tease? “It’ll do.” Beo’s voice was so low Josh felt it vibrating through his chest. His stomach clenched as he waited for Beo to touch him. Beo leaned back and rummaged through the leather satchel he’d laid by their bed. Josh couldn’t see what he removed, but seconds later he started at the chill of Beo’s fingers, thickly spread with lube, touching and then just barely entering him. His cock jerked again, almost painfully turgid, and he moaned. Beo chuckled in answer, and positioned himself behind Josh’s spread thighs before lowering himself to all fours, so that his body covered Josh’s. Josh could feel him reaching back, stroking that huge erection to coat it with lube before grasping it to position it for entry. “You’re sure?” Josh could only nod in answer. Beo guided the smooth head of his cock into Josh, making him gasp and tremble. Patiently, Beo waited, not moving, allowing Josh’s body to adjust. Josh felt a flood of gratitude at the tenderness. Beo’s cock pulsed against him, shifting in time with Beo’s heartbeat, but the man waited for Josh to press back, eager for more, before pushing it deeper inside.

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Skinshift: Bear Bait

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Beo guided himself in, inch by inch, and as Josh got used to the incredible sensation of fullness, he began to move, rocking himself back and forth to ride Beo’s cock. He heard Beo’s moan of pleasure, and the response only made him more excited, more willing to please Beo, more desperate to let him ride to orgasm. His own erection throbbed and jerked. Once he’d made Beo come, he decided, he’d touch himself and bring himself off. It should only take seconds, going by the way he felt now. But Beo had other plans. Reaching one huge hand around, he caressed Josh’s cock, his palm still slick with lube. “Oh, God, Beo, please.” Josh’s knees nearly buckled under him. “I can’t hold on, Beo, please. I’m going to come.” “I want you to come.” Beo’s commanding growl was all it took. Josh bucked beneath him, helplessly spraying as Beo continued to stroke him, milking every drop of cum from his lover. When Josh was spent and ready to collapse, Beo’s hand shifted. His arm gripped Josh around the abdomen, forcing him to stay on his knees, and Beo pounded his cock, harder and harder. He shouted Josh’s name, just once, and then Josh felt the hot spray as pulse after pulse of Beo’s cum flooded him. Afterward, they lay exhausted, wrapped around each other, too hot to need to seek the refuge of their blankets. Joshua couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so utterly satisfied or so happy. “You’ll stay, of course.” Beo sounded entirely confident. Josh thought about this. Beo’s life was pretty much alien territory as far as he was concerned. “Are you sure there’s a place for me here?” His friend scoffed. “Are you kidding? With another nano attack imminent and everyone here working flat-out to try to defend ourselves? We could use you, you know that. And I’ve heard rumors: some of the shamans are making their way back to us, to try another spell casting. Don’t tell me you’d want to miss out on that. Besides,” he settled himself more comfortably, curled against Josh’s back, “you belong with me.” Josh couldn’t deny it.

Carlanime Bligh Carlanime Bligh has been creating her own private worlds since childhood when she fervently believed she was the official historian for a nonexistent kingdom. Writing is her way of bringing people along on these detours from reality. Her erotic romances have a sentimental streak, but so does she. She enjoys using that nexus of emotion and sexual desire as the perfect point for exploring characters’ deeper desires and needs. She lives surrounded by stacks of books (and metaphorical stacks of e-texts), the occasional abandoned coffee cup supporting a lush green-gray island of mold, and several opinionated animals. Some of the latter are human. She can be reached at [email protected]. She also uses Twitter and Facebook and will add back anyone who adds her.