He opened his eyes, and I saw them, deep, dark, green. I never ran so fast to my nightstand and back as I did right then. I glanced at the hair on his back; it was almost as thick as that on his chest. I climbed back onto his lap.
I continued to stroke him, watching the hair grow thicker. The hair on his face grew furry, except for his nose and his lips. He seemed to also grow bigger in mass, like his muscles expanded even more. His shoulders were huge. His chest was immense. His cock...Well, it wasn't a baseball. It was a baseball bat.
He opened his eyes and focused deep green eyes at me. "Ride me," he growled.
Oh, I planned on it.
I put the condom on, but it didn't quite cover him. I'd have to be careful with this. Shit, if he had been this big inside me, the condom – I didn't want to contemplate, but I looked around. I saw the remnants of the other condom on the floor. Broken, nearly shredded.
Being that this was probably not the right time to ask him about past relationships, I decided to bite the bullet and take my chances. I took the condom off, and when I did, he moved back on the bed, and he held me by the waist so I slid back with him.
Then he picked me up, and held me above his throbbing cock. Now I weigh a good 150 soaking wet, so if this guy could pick me up by the waist as easily as he could pick up a six year old, I wondered what kind of strength was bunched up in those muscles. I was trying to think clinically, really, I was.
"Wait, wait, Roger, I'll—"
He thrust me down on his rigid pole. I saw white light and black stars, that's how much pain I was in. And gravity is relentless, as I slid all the way down his pole in one fell swoop.
I wasn't sure if I passed out or not, but finally the pain subsided, and instead I was feeling him moving inside me. I sure wasn't doing the heavy lifting. I opened my eyes and saw him, his arms moving me up and down on his cock. And, I'll be damned, I was hard as a rock, even through that pain.
Thinking clinically again, since I wasn't doing the work, I looked down at the body in front of me. Definitely covered in a thick, dark brown fur. His face had gotten slightly elongated, which I didn't notice the first time around. I could tell he was holding back, as his body was shuddering beneath me, and his hands, though tight and would leave bruises, squeezed my waist sometimes painfully, as if they could dig right through my flesh.
Then he moved me slightly, hitting my sweet spot, and all was lost. I cried out, I know I did, and shot all over him, cum in his thick pelt. He kept on going, harder, faster, nearly dropping me on him, and as I came back to myself, he roared and came hard in me. Listening to that sound, I didn't feel fear. I felt secure.
Then, he let me go, and I fell hard on my knees, him still inside me. I almost fell forward, but didn't want to smear all that cum all over him and me. Call me a clean freak, but when you do magic, you learn the Boy Scout rule of camping to leave the place just like you found it.
I looked down at my bear. He had fallen asleep. How could I tell? He snored. And as he snored, the fur disappeared, fading into him like time-lapsed photography of grass growing in reverse.
I got off of him, and went to get a towel. At least he had fallen asleep on the wet spot.
