Bear

Authors note:

In my story "Returning Home", I had a secondary character by the name of Bear. I received a number of comments wanting to know more about him. Here is his story. It will be submitted in two chapters. Warning! This is not a DG Hear typical romance story. It has lots of sex and troubles growing up. I want to give a special thank you to Miss Lynn for making my story a much better read.

Chapter 1:

I can hardly believe that people are interested in the life of an old biker, but here it goes. Don't expect this to be some romantic love story. I'm going to tell you how it was for me growing up. If you're not interested in fights, sex and a bad attitude, you might want to leave now. I'm not apologizing for my life. I'm just telling you how it is.

I'll admit that I wasn't the most likeable guy and by all means not a role model. I think you'll understand my attitude, even though you may not agree with it, after hearing my story.

I was born a bastard. My mother who I have always loved raised me. I know she did her best but I was a troubled kid and a troublesome teenager. Life just started bad for me.

My mom was a waitress/barmaid and worked hard to support herself. She dated and ended up pregnant. One man was special to her. When I got older she explained her story to me.

He was a salesman from Indiana that came through Ohio pretty regular. Mom had dated him quite a few times. When she got pregnant and told him about it, he tried to deny it. He said she wasn't going to blame her pregnancy on him. Come to find out, he was already married and had two kids. Mom said it really hurt her because she cared for this man.

Mom was furious and went to a lawyer. After I was born, she had a DNA test done on me. They used evidence from a hairbrush and toothbrush he used when he visited her. The lawyer took him to court and mom won. He had to pay child support for the next eighteen years and any medical bills I incurred. All that my father was to me was a sperm donor.

Mom named me Milton Wesley Blake the Second, after my father. I think she did it more to embarrass him than anything. Of course, with a name like Milton I got into lots of fights. I was a big kid though and able to take care of myself.

My dad, or sperm donor as I call him, was never part of my life. As a kid, I think I saw him maybe once a year when he came into town. He did pay his support but didn't want anything to do with me. If he came to town more often, it wouldn't be something she would have told me. She knew I despised him.

We started out living with my grandparents but they always got into arguments with mom about her going out and leaving me with them. I don't think they much cared for me either. When I was about seven, mom and I moved into an apartment near the lounge where she worked. She left me with some of the older people in the apartment while she worked.

They just let me do what I wanted. All they cared about was the few bucks that mom gave them to watch me. I ate at the back of the lounge for most of my dinners. Then I headed up to the apartment and waited for mom to get off work. Sometimes, she would be really late so I figured she was out on dates. She never did bring any men up to the apartment, though.

I ran the streets most of my childhood life. I wasn't very good in school and got expelled many times for fighting. Sometimes, it was because other kids laughed at my name; other times it was because kids called my mom a whore or a prostitute. I would beat up anyone who talked bad about my mom.

She wasn't a whore. I'll be the first to admit she was rather loose and dated a lot but no kid was going to get away with making fun of my mom. She could expect to come to the school at least every couple of months due to my fighting. This went on right into high school.

I was really big for my age and some of the older teenagers thought they could bully me around. Bill Jenkens, a senior, called my mom a slut and I beat him to a pulp. I was only sixteen at the time. He said he saw his dad fucking my mom. I couldn't let that go and I beat him till three other seniors pulled me off him. I would have killed him otherwise.

The principal expelled me for the remainder of the year. I never did go back. I got a job at a gas station that also repaired vehicles. I started out working the pumps but little by little, I learned how to do small repair jobs. I started with oil changes and lube jobs and then Jake, the owner kind of took me under his wing and started showing me engine repair.

It was then that I became interested in motorcycles. Jake rode a big hog and there was a lot of biker business that he got in for repairs. I worked after hours learning to help repair bikes. It came so easy to me. I started saving my money to by myself a bike. Jake helped me find a wrecked one for a few hundred dollars and then I put another five hundred in it to get it working properly.

When I turned nineteen, I joined a biker club. It was a branch of a well-known club. We had around sixty active members in it. Whenever we traveled, we had at least thirty that showed up for the trip. Even though I was one of the youngest, I was also one of the biggest. We hung out in our own lair. It was next to one of the local biker bars.

It was something how girls and women would come in to see us and hang around. Sex was as plentiful as it could be. Some of the bikers had their old ladies and would even share them. Then there were the women who just wanted to ride with us. They would fuck any of us when asked.

I want to say up front that no matter what you ever heard about bikers that I have never raped or taken a woman without her consent. I'll admit that a few had remorse and tried to say they were raped afterwards but no one ever went to jail for it.

One husband tried to have me arrested for raping his wife. She must have told him that when she went home with her pussy covered with cum and no panties. Three days later, she was back for more. One of the bikers called her old man and he came down to the den and saw her fucking some dude. After that, he dropped the charges.

Let me tell you about a few of the runs we made when I was first starting out. We would go to college towns and I guess it looked impressive with thirty or so bikers riding in to town. These young college girls would come up to us, tell us about the parties going on, and invite us.

So hard to understand why these young fillies would want some old dirty bikers instead of the college guys. I guess it was their way of being bad. We would go to these parties and many of the clubs didn't want us there but were afraid to face us. We actually paid our money and went in. We weren't there to cause trouble but to have sex and enjoy the parties.

I fucked some prime young pussy at these parties. It was nothing for these girls to take on two or even three of us at a time. My dick has fucked and been sucked by more college girls than I can count. There's nothing like having your dick sucked by some pretty young thing and then sticking it to her till she comes.

Almost every party has a fight or two break out. It's usually some college athlete who has had too much to drink and wants to take on a biker. Usually it was me, since I was the biggest. Most fights only lasted a few seconds with me knocking the cocksucker on his ass. If it turned into a brawl, which it often did, we beat the fuck out of them, fucked their women and went on our way.

God, I can picture some of those young fillies riding my fucking cock while I held onto her ass. Damn, that was some good stuff. I often wonder where those gals are today. Probably mothers, secretaries, doctors, lawyers and God knows what else. I can hear them telling their kids and husbands what great students they were in college. Those were the days.

We never attended the parties at the same college more than once. We usually left behind too much of a mess. Besides, we were always looking for something new.

Beach parties were another favorite of ours. We'd often camp out the whole night and party on down. Usually some stray girls came over to party with us. Hell, they were already in bathing suits and we'd just do them right there on the beach or in our camp. There were all kinds of women at these beach parties. Pussy was pussy in my book. Age, size or race made no difference to me.

It was surprising that the Asian women would be able to take such big cocks. Most of these girls were short and tiny, but they sure could use their pussies. I could lie on my back and let them ride all night. It was funny listening to them screaming out in different languages. Fuck me is easy to understand in about any language. Damn, we had some great times.

As I got older, I let my hair grow and had a beard. One of my buddies said I looked like a bear and everyone started calling me that. I only let my friends call me that, though. Anyone else had to call me Milton. If they laughed, they were in deep shit. I expected respect and got it because of my size and attitude.

Mom was the only woman I ever cared for. I gave her some money that I had been saving up. Using it with some of her own money, she bought a trailer out in the country for us. It had some acreage with it where we planted a garden and I built her a front porch to sit on and enjoy. She still worked at the lounge but only did the bartending. I have to say that the main thing in life that I regret was making my mother cry. It would tear me apart on the inside. She was the last person I'd ever want to hurt in anyway.

I would be gone days at a time but I would call her to make sure she was all right. She was a little older now and had some girl friends she hung out with sometimes. They were all divorced or widowed women who went out once in awhile and often played cards. It was good to see mom enjoying a little bit of life because she sure the hell had earned it.

When I wasn't working on bikes I hung out at the den. We would go in the bar and play pool and some of the other games. Usually we had a few of the biker girls in there with us. It was always good to see fresh meat come in. I can't tell you how many times some married women would come in and act surprised to see mostly bikers in there. Who were they kidding?

What the hell did they expect to find inside with thirty bikes or so in front of the joint. We knew what they wanted and they usually got it. We'd buy them some drinks and then take them next door to the den and fuck them. I loved fucking married broads. We knew we were getting things their husbands never did. They'd suck our cocks and we would double team most of them. For some strange reason they wanted to be degraded. I can't say why but we would give them whatever they wanted.

I fucked more than one in the ass. I wasn't really big on ass fucking because it hurt my dick. I preferred a hot wet pussy to an ass anytime. One time we actually had a pissing contest. We'd done it more than once but I want to explain exactly what it was.

We had these two married women who wanted to try something different. We kept giving them beer until they had to piss. We made them hold it in and after they stripped, we started rubbing their pussy. We told them we wanted to see which one could hold back from pissing the longest. We were finger fucking them and rubbing their clit at the same time. All of a sudden, they would orgasm and their bladder would let loose. Here were two married women pissing across the room. Damn that was fun to take part in and watch some guys wife letting herself go like that.

It might not have been legal be we actually had video cameras filming any action that took place in the den. If any woman yelled rape, we had the proof on tape. We never had to use the tapes because if anyone accused us of something we knew we could just play it for the woman and that should do the trick. No one knew they were being filmed but we had a hell of a collection to watch if we ever got bored.

Not everything in my life was enjoyable sex. Three different times someone stabbed me and a dude shot me once. They were all with either street gangs who wanted to take us on or other biker groups who didn't want us riding through their territory.

After each stabbing, I had to spend at least a day or so in the hospital. When I was shot in the side, I was in the hospital for three days. It scared my mom half to death. Damn, I hated making her worry but that's just how my life was.

I also spent a few nights in jails when we were caught disturbing the peace. Another bad habit I had was smoking weed. Usually it made me mellow out but once in awhile it seemed to have the opposite affect.

I got into a fight with some asshole trying to put the make on my mom after following her home. I was nearly thirty at the time. I arrived home and mom was outside telling the asshole to leave her alone because she had no interest in him. He was intoxicated and wasn't listening.

I had just smoked a little weed and still had a couple of packets in my pocket. I approached the asshole and told him to get lost.

"Get the fuck out of here or pay the price," I told him.

"Are you going to fuck the slut?" he asked.

I reached out and hit him over and over. No asshole called my mom a slut. I beat him to within an inch of his life. A passerby had called the cops who arrested me and sent the prick to the hospital. Mom tried to explain that the man had bothered her.

"Ms. Baxter, you could have just went in the house or called the police yourself. This all happened outside and your son nearly killed the man. Also, we found a substance in his pocket which we believe to be marijuana."

Again, my mother was crying as they put me in the cruiser. Eventually the court found me guilty of assault and in possession of a controlled substance. Because of my previous arrest, I ended up with a sentence of eighteen months in prison.

Before I tell you a little about my prison life, I want to mention that mom never spoke badly of my biker friends. Many of them called her mom and ate dinner with us. They told me that they'd take care of her while I was away.

In prison, I had to prove myself just as I had to do everywhere else. Why these guys wanted to mess with me I really don't know. I was almost six and a half feet tall and weighed in at nearly three hundred pounds.

My first day in with the general population some asshole came up to me in the dinner line and told me I was going to be his bitch. Without even looking at him, I caught him hard with an elbow to the side of his face. He went down; I know I dislocated his jaw. Taking my plastic tray, I hit him square across the face breaking his nose. I kicked him several times until the guards hit me with clubs and pulled me away from the bastard.

I got a week in solitary confinement, which was all right with me. When I got out of there, a number of ex bikers greeted me. I was now part of a group. I still had fights regularly but at least I wasn't alone. The bastard that I had hit was still in the prison hospital when I was out of confinement.

I never had a problem with him or his group members for quite awhile. I did get another six months tacked on to my sentence since they said I started the fight.

I also got a prison job working on vehicles after the warden found out I was a mechanic. I did my best to stay out of trouble but it had its way of finding me. I never started another fight but I ended most of them. I was known as the guy not to fuck with. Still, some guys always thought since they were bigger or meaner that they might be badder.

I had about six months to go when a group started a fight with the bikers. Somebody stabbed me twice with a shiv and I ended up in the prison hospital for two weeks. While being laid up I did a lot of thinking. I was just getting too old for this shit. I made a mental decision that when I got out of prison that I was going to try turning things around and get a life.

I couldn't believe it when the warden told me I would be getting out two months early. It had something to do with over-population and that I'd paid my debt to society. Mom couldn't have been happier. A couple of biker friends brought her to pick me up at the prison. It was so good to see her smiling face.

I had a talk with Jake at the cycle shop and he told me he was getting too old and was thinking of retiring. I still had a few bucks saved up and gave it as a down payment on the shop. I would pay Jake so much a month till I paid off the business. It gave him a decent income along with his social security and helped me buy my own business.

I was now the owner of the cycle repair shop. I called it Bears Bike and Cycle Repair. I had one employee that worked for Jake in my absence; his name was Ralph and he was a young man learning the cycle repair business. We got rid of the gas pumps seeing there was a lot of expense but not much profit. Most of our business was cycles and bikes and they didn't use much gas. We did do a number of vehicle repairs for customers also. We just specialized in bikes.

I would work most of the day at the shop then go across the street and have a few brews at Ray's Bar. At one time, it was a pretty heavy hangout for bikers. There were still quite a few coming in but nothing like the old days. It was fine with me because I was pretty much a loner. I hung at the bar with a few guys but I didn't travel with them anymore.

One night I was sitting there when a female friend came in. I'd had sex with her a number of times and we were sitting there playing a little grab ass when four bikers came in and started up with me. Apparently, she had broken up with one of these guys and he wasn't over her yet.

After a little pushing and shoving, Ray the owner told us to take it outside of his bar. I got up and headed out the back door to the parking lot. Many scores ended up settled out there. I expected a fair fight but before I knew it, two assholes jumped on my back. The guy in front of me hit me in the stomach. I asked myself, "What the fuck happened to bikers honor?"

I figured I was in deep shit till some young kid came out with a pool stick swinging at the two assholes like a maniac. He was with Ray, the bar owners nephew. I've seen Ryan in the bar a number of times, but have never seen this other guy. Ryan and this young kid beat the fuck out of the two assholes that were on my back.

It let my arms free and I hit the guy who had hit me in the stomach. Down he went and the ringleader came at me with a knife. I grabbed his arm, elbowed him in the jaw, and then beat the fuck out of him.

About that time the police came and I figured I was in big trouble but Ray the bar owner came to my rescue and told the cops what went down. They questioned me and the other witnesses then we all went back into the bar. They took the two bikers to the hospital and the other two had run off.

I thanked this young guy whose name I later found out was Jessie and told him if he ever needed a favor to give me a call. He mentioned that he was leaving for boot camp the next day but thanked me for the offer. I also thanked Ryan who ended up being a good friend of mine even though we ran in different circles.

I saw Jessie about seven weeks later and took him out for a piece of ass as a going away present. I called a couple of older women who I knew would treat him right. I have a feeling he had his first ever blowjob and three-way that night. These women did a number on him. The young stud must have come at least three times. He thanked me over and over again for the good time. I told him to look me up after he served his tour of duty. It was six years later before I saw him again.

Meanwhile I went about my business. Ralph turned out to be a big asset. Business was so good I hired another employee. Life wasn't too bad. Plenty of money and got laid just about anytime I wanted. Some of these women just couldn't get enough. I still made it with divorced and married women now. Most were in their mid to late thirties.