There was this strange flier under my door when I got home from work. It looked like an advertisement for some Gay circuit party or club. "Build Your Bear" was across the top in big bold letters, with a hairy muscle stud underneath in just a jock, his arms crossed with a friendly smile on his scruffy face.
I couldn't find an address or phone number on the flier, just their website, Buildyourbear.com. I set the paper aside, tossing it on top of my coffee table before unwinding for the day. It was Thursday and I still had another mind numbing day staring at a screen and punching numbers. It wasn't glamorous but it paid the bills.
The only thing that sucked more than my job was my love life. When I was young and careless, I had my pick of the men. I was a hairless twink with a bubble butt and dirty old men lining up to buy me drinks, drugs and what not. Now I was older and no longer a twink. I was still good looking and somewhat fit but not cute and thin like I was in my early twenties.
I was no longer the club kid that lived to go out on the weekends, get drunk and fucked. I was the responsible Gay adult that was in bed by nine most nights and spent his time cruising apps hoping for a connection that wasn't some scammer or bot. It had gotten to the point that my hand and I were dating, sometimes having a three some with Bear. Bear was what I named my dildo.
That was another thing that had changed since leaving my twinkhood behind, the men I was attracted too. Back then I wanted them smooth, muscular or thin. Now my tastes varied, but I definitely got a hard on for a burly hairy man with a scruffy beard. He didn't have to be ripped with muscles but he needed to be thicc.
I sat down on the couch with my dinner for one and turned on the television. That was when I noticed the flier again. I picked it up and really looked at it. I scanned it over and over again, shoveling food blindly into my mouth. The man in the flier was everything that made my cock throb and hole twitch. He looked like one of my favorite porn stars, Atlas Grant, but not as sexy.
I sat my fork down and grabbed my tablet. Curiosity had gotten to me. I opened a browser and headed to the site. It loaded with that same man smiling that sweet innocent smile in just a jock plastered on the front page. It looked like some strange dating site. I clicked the sign up, expecting it to ask for credit card information, but it didn't.
Thirty seconds later I was registered and being prompted to "build my bear." I was asked to build my perfect bear. I needed to choose body type, height, muscle, cock size and even eye color. I decided to indulge in the silly fantasy. I figured I'd be prompted for my credit card on the end to pay for some escort.
I made him six foot tall. I wanted him a little taller than me but not too much. I wanted him to have muscles. I was a sucker for muscles. Muscles and a hairy chest, like a carpet of thick black fur on his chest and legs. I opted for him to have stubble, black stubble that shaded his jaw and a shaved head. I gave him a sweet smile and a bubble muscle butt. You have to have something to grab onto besides a dick.
I was a bit naughty, and greedy, when I gave him an eight inch thick and veiny cock. It wasn't like he was real or anything. This was all fantasy and I was always told to dream big or go home. I wanted him to be unique, different, so I gave him emerald green eyes. When I was done, I had the perfect bear for me, the bear of my fantasies. I even got to name him. Parker.
I admired my creation on the screen, wishing it was real. The last screen asked when I wanted him delivered and I laughed. Like this man really existed. It was probably some doll or something, so I indulged the fantasy a little longer and chose to have it delivered tomorrow. I could have him delivered at any time, to the exact minute. As a lark, I chose to have him delivered at six past seven.
I came to the last screen and got a, "Thank you, your order has been placed." I hadn't entered any credit card information or my address. I hit the back button, thinking I missed something but got "page not found." I reloaded the page, hit forward, and even tried going back to the original web address and got the same error.
I shrugged it off, set the tablet aside and went about my night. I forgot about my build a bear till I was getting ready for bed. I was brushing my teeth, looking at myself shirtless in the bathroom mirror. My chest was decent, smooth aside from the small patch of dark hair between my pecs that trailed down to my seven inch cock. I still had a baby face and kept my brown hair short. At thirty I was definitely still hot.
I couldn't stop thinking about Parker. I got horny at the thought of his strong arms holding me, the feel of his chest hair rubbing against my skin, and looking into those sweet emerald eyes while he pounded me into the mattress. I blew a load while fingering myself thinking about how it would feel to have him inside of me.
The next morning I had forgotten all about it. I went to work, did my mind numbing job and came home. It was a Friday night and the only thing I had planned for the weekend was laundry. I jumped into the shower as soon as I got home, slipped into some sweatpants before starting my dinner for one.
I was sitting down on my couch, prepared to enjoy my meal while watching TV when there was a knock at the door. I let out a sound of annoyance. I checked my phone, saw it was six after seven. Who would bother me this late in the day on a Friday without calling first? I was just getting up when there was another more insistent knock at the door.
"Coming!" I yelled. I was ready to tear into whoever was on the other side of the door for disturbing my lonely dinner. I got to the door just as whoever it was pounded again. I flung open the door and started to yell, "What the," then changed mid-sentence to, "the fuck?" When I saw the huge wooden crate blocking my door.
"You want to move, buddy?" Came a sharp voice from behind the crate. I was so stunned, I just did what he said. "Thanks, where do you want him?" The crate tilted and was pushed into my home by this squat muscled guy with a big nose. "Hey, mack, I don't have all day." He snapped at me. "Where do you want him?"
I pointed to the living room. "What is it?" I asked following behind him. "I don't remember ordering anything." He ignored me, setting the crate down in the middle of my living room. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief then pulled out some papers from his back pocket. "I think you have the wrong place."