This story is very unlike most of my others. It is extremely tongue in cheek, written with the intent to be humorous and not take itself at all seriously. It is a mostly cheerful romp through a rather robust young woman's first and subsequent meetings with a bear shifter. It will pushed to Literotica once it is completed in full, but placed in segments here for better ease of reading.
Melody Kleptner is an anthropologist with a fairly famous television show hunting for evidence of the elusive Bigfoot. Killian Lancashire is successful computer programmer who is also a shifter of the bear persuasion. The two come together when an enthusiastic but misguided neighbor confuses the sometimes black bear for the Alabama Bigfoot. He wants her as a mate, but also wants to poke some fun at her colleagues.
Here's the beginning...
******
Melody
pounded the last stake into the ground, securing the tent that would be her
home for the next week. The rest of the crew scurried about the encampment like
so many ants, sorting equipment, tents, food. Pretty much doing whatever it
took to ensure that Melody was on her own. With a shrug, she tossed the
sledgehammer into the box and returned it to the truck. She was used to the men
on these shoots being less than helpful, if not outright hostile. She was the
debunker of myths. The rain on their parade. The fly in their soup. And all the
other random clichés that meant she not only didn't believe in their bullshit,
she didn't try to fake like she did. The fact that she was female just added to
the hostility levels.
Ignoring
the hints to start dinner, Melody started pitching the supply tents. The team
could easily dine on energy bars and cold toaster pastries for one night, but the
network had warned them what would happen if they lost another piece of
equipment due to negligence. The rest of the crew might not believe their
executive producer’s ultimatum, but she had seen them talking with their
lawyers. She had heard them discussing the cost of new equipment versus buying
out the team’s contracts. Melody knew they weren't bluffing this time.
Terry,
the team’s oldest member in both time with the program and age, joined her at
the tents. They worked in tandem, driving the long stakes into the ground and
tying off guy-lines. They had three sturdy pavilions designated for the mound
of equipment and supplies needed for such a show surrounded by the crew’s
individual tents. As they worked, Melody and Terry discussed the issues facing
the popular show. In the beginning, People had been glued to their televisions
in hopes of finding the truth about the various mythological creatures that
appeared in almost every culture. After six seasons of searching, the team of
anthropologists, biologists, archaeologists, scientists (and every other –ist
they could convince to join the show) had yet to produce a single, indisputable
fact. Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Yeti remained a mystery along
with their lesser known cousins like the Chupacabra, the Clurichaun, and the
Leshi. Ratings had begun to drop, and the producers wanted results. If they didn't come up with something other than some indistinct footprints and ruined
gear, he was looking at a return to teaching. He commented, only half-joking,
that it really wasn't on his to-do list.
It took
the better part of day to set up camp and sort their gear. When they were done,
they placed the expensive camera equipment in the center tent ringed by the
men’s pop-ups. The network executives had made it quite plain that a team
member was easier to replace than one of the motion-sensitive, hi-resolution
cameras. Though he maintained that the loss of the previous three had been
through freak accidents, Terry had sworn on a stack of Bibles that he would
guard this one with his life. He would also share the tent with the camera,
which ensured he wasn't the first member to hit the unemployment line. A large
canopy with removable mesh sides held their tracking supplies as well as their
potable water and food. Melody, along with one of the younger members of the
team, suggested suspending their food but the rest of the team dismissed their
concerns with condescending laughter. They had never had problems before and the
“new kids” were just being paranoid.
Melody
grabbed a bottle of water, a banana, and an energy bar, found a comfortable
shade tree, and read the file for this episode’s investigation. Local reports
told of a large, hairy humanoid roaming the woods, making odd sounds and
scaring the chickens. She chuckled softly as she looked at the grainy
photographs. Even the best one could be anything from a man in a costume to an
oddly pruned tree. If they had only known her Great Uncle Larry, they would have
declared him Bigfoot. He had been over seven feet tall, and cursed with an
acute case of Hypertrichosis, more commonly called Ambras or werewolf syndrome.
In layman’s terms, he was a very, very hairy man. She flipped the page with a
smirk. Uncle Larry looked more the part than these blurry photographs. As a
former sideshow and vaudeville performer, he would have had too much fun with
a program such as this one. Melody was pretty confident that this area’s
Bigfoot was just another Uncle Larry.
“So,
what do you think, Miss Kleptner? Still believe we’re chasing fairytales?”
Andrew, the show’s researcher, flopped onto the ground beside her.
“I do,
actually.” Melody flipped the file back to the small number of photographs.
“These are terrible. My phone takes better pictures, and it’s a disposable
flip-phone from the age of dinosaurs.”
“Well,
most people don’t have our state of the art equipment readily at hand when a
large humanoid creature stumbles across their back yard.”
“I
suppose not, but seriously, a Polaroid would have taken a better picture.” She
pulled the worst of the photos from the group and set it at the top of the
stack. It showed a fuzzy silhouette crossing an open field. “Look at this one.
It’s little more than a human-shaped shadow. There’s nothing nearby to give
perspective, nor are there any landmarks to place this field. The creature
could have been made from toothpicks and cotton balls and then photoshopped on
top of this field, which could be anywhere in the world there is grass. Not
only is this bullshit, but it’s poorly rendered bullshit, and you lot swallowed
it hook, line, and sinker!”
“Wow,
you really are a bitch, aren't you?” Andrew rose, brushing the leaves from his
designer cargo pants. “Just because you can’t see the possibilities doesn't mean we are wrong. Bigfoot’s out there and we’re going to find him.”
“What
will you do then?” Melody called to him as he walked away.
“What do
you think? After we've made our million, sell him to the highest bidder, of
course.”
Shaking
her head, she scanned the file a final time before returning it to the
equipment tent. The moon sat high in the sky, cooling the humid air and
encouraging the mosquitos to feast on the human interlopers. She took it as a
sign to head to bed. Conversation stopped as she passed the sputtering campfire,
but she ignored the hateful glares. She hadn't been hired to be their buddy.
Her role was that of the dissenting opinion on a show that teetered on the
verge of cancellation. The more they despised her, the greater the tension and
higher the ratings. It sounded ridiculous but the network executives assured
her it worked. Melody bid the crew a good night and retreated to her tent. She
doused the light before changing into cotton sleep shorts and a black tank top
with a built-in bra. Probably not a good idea to provide an impromptu shadow
peep-show on a family program. The quiet murmur of the men lulled her to sleep
within minutes.
The
following morning dawned gloomy, humid, and oppressively hot. Low rumbles of
thunder rolled in the distance, signaling an incoming storm that would put
their tent stakes to the test. As Melody secured her journal and cell phone
inside a waterproof bag, she hoped Terry’s tent withstood the storm. Otherwise,
that new camera would come out of his severance pay. She liked the stern, older
man. He was one of the few on the team who didn't see her as some sort of
threat to his masculinity. He was also quite popular with the female audience,
resembling a cross between Sean Connery and Harrison Ford. She was certain
there were several smitten women who would hate to see him leave.
She
rolled up her sleeping bag, grabbed her clothes and toiletries, and headed for
the small stream they’d passed on their way in. The men were arguing over the
portable shower, the heat and humidity already wearing on their short tempers,
and she shared an amused look with Terry as she passed. He would read them the
riot act once she was out of sight, salvaging their egos even as he took them
down a peg or three. Though she was never out of hearing range, she played it
cool upon her return which soothed them that much more. Maybe they would make it
through the first day without a fight.
The water
was deliciously cold, raising the hair on her arms and turning her nipples into
hard, crinkled points. Abandoning modesty for cleanliness, she stripped off the
shorts and top and waded into the shallow stream. Melody washed away a day of
hiking and setting up camp, and a night of sweating in the still air of the
tent. She rinsed her sleep clothes, turned to hang them on a nearby branch, and
looked straight into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
She
pulled the washcloth to her chest in an effort to hide her nakedness, but
succeeded in barely covering one generous breast. A scream lodged somewhere
between her stomach and her throat. Melody opened her mouth to set it free, but
it refused to surface and left her gaping like a fish. Somewhere in the back of
her mind was the thought that it probably wasn't her best or most intelligent
look.
The
creature’s green eyes roamed her body with such intensity that she swore she
felt it in a physical sense. Her heart raced. Her nipples, those fickle things,
throbbed to feel more than his gaze. Moisture pooled between her thighs. Her
breath came in gasps. As she fought the urge to go to the creature, the intense
green eyes were gone. In leaving, they returned her sanity.
“What
the fuck is wrong with me?” Melody muttered as she stepped from the stream. “I
got turned on by some strange peeping-tom creature in the middle of
Bum-Fuck-Nowhere. My best friend was right; I really need to get laid.”
Dressing
quickly in jeans and a t-shirt, she grabbed her toiletries and returned to camp.
She also thought of those piercing green eyes that seemed to look straight into
her soul. A bunch of metaphysical horseshit, she was certain, but that’s
exactly what it had felt like. If she was romantically inclined, she would say it
was like finding one’s soulmate – an instant recognition of one’s perfect
match. Melody tossed her gear into the tent with a snort. Just my
luck! My so-called perfect match just happens to be some pervert in the deep
south, or worse, some furry animal with astonishingly green eyes. Fuck my
life.
She
tugged her socks and hiking boots on, and stomped towards the camp’s make-shift
kitchen. It had taken yelling, threats of bodily harm, and a meeting with the
network’s lawyers to make the crew understand that she was not going to be the
camp’s maid. They tested her the first two or three shows, leaving dirty pans
on the stove or dishes in the sink. She took photographs of the mess, and then
cooked her meal over the campfire. By the third meeting with the lawyers, which
included threats of replacement, the crew learned she was serious. They still
grumbled, but they cleaned up after themselves.
Whatever
worked.
Melody
checked the weather reports on her phone as she ate. The storm would hit later
in the afternoon, and if the fates were kind, roll out in a couple of days. She
jotted down the information so Terry could plan accordingly. This meant they
would be here at least three days before they could really start the
investigation. The crew were out hanging the sturdiest of their weather-resistant
gear, but she doubted Terry would risk their best cameras in the coming storm.
Sighing, she tossed her garbage in the bin, and froze for the second time that
morning.
A large
black bear stood just inside the clearing, the largest she had ever seen. What
was she thinking? It was the first black bear she had ever
seen outside of a zoo or an internet search. It didn't approach the encampment,
nor did it pace along the wood’s edge. It simply stood there and seemed to be
watching her. Was this her peeping tom from the stream? Did bears even
have green eyes? And what the hell was it doing now?
The bear
leaned against a tree, showing off his furry underbelly, incredibly long claws,
and an impressively large cock. A really impressively large
cock. Thick as a soda can and as long as her forearm, at least, the head
glistened in the overcast sun. He wrapped a hairy paw around his thick cock,
and gave it a single, slow stroke. He rumbled; she whimpered. His paw slid
along his oddly human-looking cock, gripping the base, giving it a slight twist
near the head – long, steady strokes that progressively grew faster the longer
she watched.
Melody
sank into a chair, and loosened her jeans. The bear grunted, slowing his
strokes as her hand disappeared between her thighs. As she rubbed her clit, he
matched his rhythm to hers – speeding up when she did, slowing down when she
came too close to orgasm. Then he set the rhythm, his eyes daring her to match
it. He rose to his feet as his black paw pumped his cock. He thrust into his
strokes; his back pressed against the tree for leverage and support. She
matched him stroke for stroke, her fingers sinking deep into her dripping pussy
as she rubbed her clit with the heel of her palm. Her toes curled with her
impending orgasm, heat flooded her body, and the blood rushed through her ears.
She bit hard on her lip as her body shook, and come poured over her thrusting
fingers. The bear echoed her release with a loud roar, his seed pulsing from
his cock to splash onto a nearby fern. He dropped back onto all fours, back and
shoulders heaving, and loped into the forest with a final roar.
“What
the fuck just happened?” Melody yanked her hand from her jeans, and fastened
them with a furious blush. Standing on rubbery legs, she took a quick look
around the camp and then disappeared inside her tent. She prayed no one had
been watching her.
ROFLOL! Oh this looks to be a fun romp!
ReplyDeleteIt has got to be the naughtiest and silliest thing I have ever written. lol I'm having so much fun with it.
DeleteWow that was....wow. With the bear? Oh my *running off to find Ch 2!!*
ReplyDeleteA bear....doing *that*...wow. You have a twisted mind Elaina. I like it ;)
ReplyDelete