This choice: Stubby and white, he's a polar bear! • Go Back...Chapter #4Stubby and white, he's a polar bear! by: AlcaPoco You rub your eyes and blink a couple times to comprehend what you are seeing. The tail doesn't move as the creature grunts from what looks like strain as he reaches deeper into the engine. You couldn't help but notice how tight his clothes were, his ass and legs were about to rip out of his cargo pants, what little of his shirt you could see was pulling up as it tried to cover his large back. He must be large for his kind as you're sure those kind of pants should be baggy. The next thing you notice is the color of his fur, much of his back was exposed and showed his Snow White fur to the world. You figured the fur would be long but it was really short, so you guessed that outside this garage was a warm world. Another grunt and curse which was pure English brought you out if daydreaming as he pulled himself out of the hood, he stared into it for a moment, his pants looking uncomfotably tight still. When he turned around you hunkered behind a pack of beer, but still examined him. His face wasnt round like most bears but more angular, his eyes held extreme intelligence as he stood looking at something above your table. Huge pecs were visible underneath his tight tshirt, accompanied by a rather large beer gut which was not fully covered by the shirt.
The bear sighed loudly and removed his grease stained shirt and threw it on the ground in front of you.
"That's enough work for me today Donnie! I've been at it for hours now, I'm going home." The bear said with a deep voice.
A lighter voice who you guessed was Donnie replyed, "Alright Sal, see ya Monday."
Sal reached for his shirt, but noticed your beer pack cover. With a smug expression he reached for the can you were hiding against, and wrapped you and the can in his mighty grip. As he stood up, he pressed the can and you to his stomach, Smothering you into the soft fur and squishy flesh enough to hold you between the can and his stomach. As he walks out of the shop and into the cool night, you are forced to listen to the chorus of his insides right next to you. The sound of the car door is heard and You are pulled away from the warm flesh and left in a cup holder with the unopened beer. Despite the terrifying experiance you are having, you long for Sals warmth as he was built for the cold. The can next to you lurches toward you as a clear snap is heard above. The beer suddenly is pulled out of the cup holder and leaving you exposed to Sal. He doesn't notice you, yet however, as he turns on the radio to kill the quiet ride to his house.
The radio clicks on. "...In other news, micros have now been given a set of limited rights among the ordinary public, It is now illegal to murder micros on the street, they should be recognized as fellow citizens of the public, and not toys of the public."
Sal grumbled something and flicked the radio back off, letting his gaze focus on the radio for a second, you froze as his gaze hung over you. This ended when he shrugged and threw back the whole can of beer in one move. He let out a resounding burp before crushing the can with one hand and dropping it to the car floor. You gulp as that can was 10 times your size.
Five minutes later, Sal pulls up into what you guess is his drive way, as he turns off the ignition, you climb out of the cup holder to find a way out, but just as he opens the car door, you step over the lip of the cup holder onto an old mint wrapper. The crinkle of it echoes your presence in a sort of humorous manner which at the same time was terrifying. You watch as the bear slowly turns his head and locks on to you with icy blue eyes. By the expression you can see his inner predator looking at prey. This look shifts to a false smile as he shifts his shirtless girth back into the car.
He scratches his right pec and says, "well I wasn't expecting to have a guest tonight, but I can't turn you down."
Before you can say anything, Sal scoops you up and slides you into his tight front pocket as he stood and walked into his house, he heads for... indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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