What's Good at the Outdoor Cafe

What is it about a beautiful chub? Take for instance this guy having lunch at the next table. He bites into his club sandwich and I can’t help watching the space behind his jaw rise and fall, rise and fall. His hair is cropped to dirty blond stubble and he has a little Vandyke that frames his full lips like a fuckin’ invitation and God damn it – a man could starve from starin’.

He’s eating by himself at the table, chewing, silently staring off into space. He’s turned so his profile is to me and so far I haven’t been able to make eye contact. He’s probably not quite as tall as I am and not much older either – maybe late thirties, early forties. He’s got on a large tropical shirt opened a few buttons to reveal soft, downy man tits with barely a hint of scattered hair between the loose pectorals.

Man. Guys like this get me so hard.

His legs are spread wide and his white full thighs beckon me to kneel between them and get to work. He has a terrier tethered to the café table. The dog’s curled up at his feet and watching me eat my philly cheese steak.

I guess everyone’s hungry here.

“Beautiful,” I say in a voice loud enough to catch the chub’s attention.

The guy turns to me and his body jolts like he just got a small volt of electricity. The terrier stands and shakes his little tail. The man has delicious green eyes and he’s still slowly chewing his sandwich. His eyebrows raise a bit and he says, “Hmm?”

“Beau-ti-ful,” I say in my gruffest, slowest, most deliberate “I-wanna-fuck-you” voice.

The man looks around a moment, rubs a pudgy hand over his stubbled head.

“My dog?” the guy says. But he smiles. He knows. His eyes are locked on mine and I think maybe this may be a lucky lunch at the Outdoor Café, after all.

“Yeah,” I say, “your dog, too.”

The man takes another bite out of his club sandwich, ripping the bread with his teeth. He chews contemplatively for a moment, staring his gorgeous green eyes into mine. He points a thumb at his dog. “His name’s Jack Radcliffe,” the chub says. “Always been a huge fan.”

His eyes run the length of my body – pausing a moment at the patch of dense fur at my shirt collar, lingering at the bear tattoo on my upper arm, just below the shirt sleeve. His eyes loll about my big bear belly and finally rest on my package which, by this point, is putting on quite a show.

“Very nice,” he says with a slacker nod of the head.

Fuck, yeah.

The chub slaps his hands together like he’s dusting crumbs off. “If you will excuse me,” he says. When he stands, I get a full look at this guy’s beautiful chub body. His arms have that roundness and fleshiness that makes me want to bury my face in them and sleep blissfully. I want to run my hands all over the guy’s enormous belly, feel the soft seal-like firmness of a man’s guts and the ample beauty of a big man. Maybe tongue down that belly button or use some other part of me for the purpose.

The man watches me stare at him with a bemused smile. He turns to his dog. “Stay, Jack,” he says. The dog puts his head down on his paws obediently. “You, however...” he says, his voice trailing off provocatively.

As he strolls toward the restroom, I stand, toss the dog a piece of cheesy steak and quickly follow after. I follow the chub into the restroom, which is perfect – one of those lock-the-door, we’re all alone affairs. A condom machine hangs on the wall and I drop two quarters in while the chub inspects his teeth in the mirror.

I lock the door. No time’s wasted. I want that shirt off pronto. I pull his shirt up over his head and almost get it off, but I’m too distracted by those soft, mounded man tits that must go into my mouth immediately. They’re some tasty, creamy, whipped dessert and I open my mouth wide to receive them. The man starts with a laugh, but it quickly gives way to a sharp intake of breath and an interested groan.

“I’m very sensitive there,” he whispers.

I don’t care. My tongue has never tasted such soft, fluffy, powdery perfection. The man has cream puff tits and I’m going to devour them both. My tongue is rolling around the little nubbins of nipples and my lips are taking in the flesh of his chest in huge wet gulps. He groans, “Ah, yes! Yeah!”

“Lift your arms,” I say.

He puts both hands on his head and waits for it. A few little blond hairs sweep here and there across the hills and valleys where his arms meet his chest and I bury my face in one of those pits and stroke the fur there with my tongue. He sighs like he means it.

“I want to see you,” he says and it comes out all whispery and heavy with lust and it makes me stop what I’m doing and take my shirt off. His hands are instantly spread across the heavy fur on my chest and his thick, pudgy fingertips touches every inch of my torso. “I like this a lot,” he says.

His head dips down and his tongue is on my nipple and it’s fire and ice at the same time and my cock is pounding at my pants to let it free and feel this guy eat me all up, head to toe.

The chub unbuckles his belt and opens his pants and I’m trying to do the same when I catch his back in the mirror behind him. He’s still half-bent over, licking my tits, and his pants begin to fall and expose the most sensuous ass with the sweetest, deepest crack I’ve ever seen.

“Fuck,” I say. “Your ass! Dude!”

He comes up for air and looks at me a moment.

“Yes,” he says. “Fuck my ass, dude.”

His pants fall completely to the floor. He steps out of them and his cock is lifted hard and flat against his enormous white belly. His ass is a dark blond-feathered seam into his body which I am salivating to explore.

He grabs my jeans and pulls them down without ceremony and my cock smacks him in the belly. He stands up straight and grabs my cock in his fist. I groan. I grab his face in both hands and pull him to me. We kiss and the hairs of my beard and his Vandyke play while our tongues dart into each other’s mouths hungrily. His belly is jammed up against mine and it feels so good like two men’s bodies do and the way they fuck and I want to devour this man right now.

I pull off his lips. “Get me ready for you,” I whisper into his pasta shell ear.

This mountain of a man drops to his knees on the cool, clean, tiled floor and without a word, he’s sucking my raging hard, pounding cock.

Now, there are those who suck cock and there are Those Who Suck Cock. This guy Sucks Cock. Every move he makes is expert. The way he slurps up and down the sides of my shaft and tongues my hairy ballsac. The little “Mmm” sounds he makes when he pulls my foreskin back, using only the pressure from his lips. The way he mouths my cockhead like it’s a butterscotch candy or a melting popsicle. The swift action slurping pump of his mouth around my cock that brings it to rockhard perfection.

Shit, I’m gonna cum if I’m not careful. Sensing the pulse beginning, he pulls off my cock. He is a buffet of soft flesh beneath me, a delicious vanilla pudding with pleading green eyes.

“Now, bear,” he says, “Fuck my ass, please?”

How can I refuse?

I kneel down behind him, my pants still around my ankles. He gets on all fours and my cock is going to burst from the sight of this man. He is rocking his round ass back and forth and his tits are hanging toward the floor and there’s nothing to do but fuck him.

I reach up over the sink and pump a little soapy gel into my hand and rub my hands together until I have a creamy lather. One finger, then two, slide into this man’s voracious crack. I work his sphincter. At first, it rebels, tightening to the bone. My cock is hard and envious. The man gasps a bit, but in a moment, he’s groaning, pushing back into my hand and welcoming my fingers in.

“Now, damn it,” the man says. He’s almost whining, he wants it so bad. “I gotta feel you in me, man.”

My cockhead is raging now, dripping with precum. It takes a second to slide the condom on and before I can say, “Bon Apetít!” my cock plunges into his ass with a plop. He lets out a loud groan that can probably be heard in the café. But I don’t give a shit because he’s so tight and hot and smooth and slick and Christ I’m gonna fuck this guy senseless.

My hands grip his hilly hips and I pull him gently onto me until my pubes are all that’s left and my dick is deeply buried in his ass.

“Yeah,” he groans. “So deep.”

I pump slowly in and out of his ass and the feeling is awesome fucking and I’m sliding one hand down the ridge of his back and listening to the plap, plap, plap sound of my balls against his ass. And it feels like I’ve reached Chubby Heaven, except...

Something’s missing.

“I want to see you,” I say. The chub nods his head, but I don’t think he really heard me. He’s kind of in that sex trance you get into when it’s real hot and good.

“No,” I say, gently pulling out, “I want to see you.”

The chub smiles, slides to the floor and lays on his back. “Like this?” he says. He pulls his knees back. His cock is a hard, thick, pink rod laying against his belly. His balls are a pink, crinkled sac above his beautiful, soapy, pink hole. He’s a pink marzipan. He’s pink marmalade. I grab his ankles and put them on my shoulders. He stares at me with a hunger I haven’t seen in so long.

This man wants me bad.

I slowly glide my cock into him again. His expression is of shock and pleasure and I want so much to kiss him, but my cock says, no, it’s fucking time. As my dick pounds into his ass, setting up its rhythm, I watch his belly wiggle like dancing and it turns me on so much and my hands go roaming across his wide belly and cup his tits and slap his thighs. My hips thrust harder, trying to get deeper and deeper in.

The chub is making little quiet gasping noises. His eyes are rolling up into that sex trance again and I’m just feeling the in, in, in of my cock in his ass. My hair is falling into my eyes and I don’t give a shit. Sweat runs off my forehead, off the tip of my nose, down the sides of my neck, through the hair on my chest and I feel the cum beginning to rumble in my balls and thinking about breaking out.

“Kiss me,” the chub says, far off in his reverie.

Cum is boiling through the veins in my balls, up into my abdomen. Cum streaming down the length of my cock, flooding the condom and I bend over and kiss him deep. Our bodies are smashed together, our tongues tied, my cum is roiling out of my body. His cock twitches, twitches and shoots the hot sticky goo of his cum between our bellies. "Oh, God," the chub whispers, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

“Aww, fuck!” I say in too loud a voice,"You fuckin' sexy son of a bitch." The chub chuckles, his hands touching my face. We both breathe heavily, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Beautiful,” he says, holding my face.

My cock slips out of his ass and I slide down to the floor beside him. My head rests against his fleshy arm. He smells of bathroom soap and cum and sweat. The chub licks his lips, turns his head and looks at me with those jewel green eyes.

A light knock on the door wakes us into the present.

“One moment, please,” the chub says. He snickers a bit. “Guess there’s a line.”

We stand, pull paper towels down from the machine and clean up. I watch this beautiful man whose body I’ve just ravenously devoured. Definitely got to get his email address.

As he reaches for the door knob, I put a hand to his arm. “Next time,” I say. “I’ll buy lunch.”

“Next time?” the chub says with a swift kiss on my lips.

I laugh. “Fair enough,” I say, “lunch is on me”

“I hope so,” the chub says, cupping my package. “Someone’s still hungry.”

I WELCOME YOUR BACKTALK, BOY!

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MUTANTBEARMAN: Musings of a Queer Bear/Man

An insightful, bold and humorous blog mostly about bears and bearness, about being queer and queer sex, and about the strange world of being a 21st century man. I don't write often anymore, but occasionally I drop by for a post or two. Still, for a masculine, adult perspective on living the queer life, check out MUTANTBEARMAN: Musings of a Queer Bear/Man by clicking HERE.

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Portland, OR, United States
Glenn Williams (aka, Mutantbearman) is a freelance writer who has published erotica, erotic poetry & queer journalism for decades. He is also a business and technical writer as well as a theatre director and actor. He has written blogs, screenplays, fiction, journalism, poetry, and non-fiction. He lives with his sexy boyfriend and Nala the cat in Portland, Oregon.