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A Feast of Fur And Muscle

by Jack Samson


I first saw George Regenauer on June 17, 1985. I had just graduated from college and could only find summer work as a painter in the maintenance department at my old high school. Unfortunately, that job didn't start until the local schools let out at the end of June. Until then, I had a lot of free time on my hands. On that particular day I decided to hop in my car and head to the Midtown Mall and cruise the mall for a bear. I had seen a fairly hairy man there not long before that who worked in one of the stores. Anyway, I exited the expressway and proceeded about 200 yards when I came to an intersection. There in the center of the road was a massive bald-headed man directing traffic around a construction site. Traffic was quite light, at that time and I was able to get a good look at the man. He was tall - about 6'3" or so - with an imposing upper body. He was wearing work boots, jeans and a whitish print button down short sleeve work shirt. It was quite warm and the top several buttons of the shirt were undone allowing me to notice excessive chest hair pouring out through the opening. I immediately abandoned any thought of the man at the mall. I knew I had stumbled onto an extraordinary discovery. His arms were enormously developed. Stretching the sleeves of his shirt, they looked to be 23" or more. Thick dark fur swarmed over the forearms and upper arms. All that hair coupled with his huge muscles gave the man the appearance of a gorilla. The rest of his upper body was in proportion to those magnificent arms. The chest was deep and the shoulders were broad and swollen with muscle. He had to weigh at least 300 lbs.- probably 340! His forearms were thickly built with cable like tendons and sinew running up and down their length. The manly pelt of fur on his arms made them seem even larger. His hands were square and block-like suggesting unimaginable grip strength. The hair ran quite thick on the backs of those hands as well. I passed through the intersection, unable to pull my eyes from this vision of masculinity. He appeared to be in his mid to late fifties and was brutally handsome. He had chiseled features with high cheekbones and whiskers growing up to just under his eyes. The whiskers seemed to turn his face to a dark shade of blue. His eyebrows were thick and arched in a perpetual scowl which ran in a virtual single line above both eyes. He had a square jaw and a neck as thick as a roman column. The back of that neck had hair running up over the collar. I knew that his back had to be generously coated with hair as well. I returned to the intersection a number of times in the next 30 minutes. I realized that he must have been suspicious so I pulled up and asked him directions (even though I was not lost). A man standing nearby heard me and answered my question. Disappointed that I had not spoken to him I nonetheless decided to move on only to return another day. Still I was able to get some perspective on just how large this man was. The man who spoke to me was a good sized construction worker who seemed scrawny compared to the hairy brute I was lusting over. My summer painting job began the following Monday. My work ended at 3:00 p.m. each day. I would immediately jump in my car and speed to Midtown in the hopes of seeing this gorilla of a man. On one occasion I spotted him down by the Chevrolet dealer next to the Mall. He was dressed in work pants , a black t-shirt and a black baseball hat. He seemed even larger than the first time I saw him. He resembled a massive football coach., an aging athlete who had retained the brutish strength of his playing days, only now he led others from the sideline. He was a hulking man who could twist steel with his bare hands or clap you on the shoulder in a gentle thundering show of support. I was able to see him fairly close from the car lot. From behind the incredible thickness of his arms, back and shoulders was evident. This was a man blessed with massive bone structure and efficient metabolism whose obviously demanding physical regimen had developed his body to magnificent proportions. That physique combined with supremely rugged features and thick body hair created the most intimidating specter of a man I'd ever seen. A single look from this bear would turn your legs to jelly. By simply folding those hairy war club arms across his imposing chest, he demonstrated his sheer superiority to even the strongest of men. Yet, a handshake to say 'job well done' must have been as comfortable and reassuring as a child's teddy bear. I noticed that others would stare when they saw him. It was not every day that you would see such a man, so it was only natural for people to take an extra moment of their time to examine him. On this day he was wielding a heavy iron pry bar about 5 feet in length and several inches thick. He was effortlessly using the bar to open huge cast iron sewer grates. The enormous muscles of his arms and back were quite visible (even through his shirt). He flipped those grates as though they were made of cardboard. Once he reached down and using just one hand lifted the sewer grate up and set it down over the guardrail. I knew from my own experience in construction that the grate had to weigh a couple hundred pounds. Yet this beast of a man had handled it like paper. Later, I watched two of his co-workers struggle with the grate. Laughing, the gorilla-man simply walked over to them and single handedly took the grate from his struggling friends only to gently replace the grate in it's proper spot. He soon finished the rest of his work and waited for a co-worker to pick him up. He sat against a guardrail on the side of the road, folded his arms across his chest, and waited patiently. It seemed clear that the other men on his crew idolized him. They seemed to crave his respect and would do anything for his friendship. Not surprising in light of his man handling of that grate. Soon a man in a dark green Chevy Blazer came and called out to him. "George" he said . "You ready?" Big George just put u his huge right hand to signal he was ready and proceeded to the truck carrying the huge pry bar in his left hand. The muscles on the back of his hairy arm were tensed with the effort of carrying the heavy bar and stood out like swollen pythons. He placed the bar in the back of the blazer and eased into the passenger seat resting a mighty forearm on the open window. It's size was accentuated by the position of his arm on the window. It was a magnificent sight to behold. I followed them to a small white pick-up truck. It was a late 70's model Chevy Luv truck. George left the one vehicle and climbed into what I realized was his white pick-up. "I'll see you tomorrow" George said. He got in the truck and drove off. I decided that I had to follow. For about 20 minutes I followed the man. Occasionally, when the opportunity presented itself I would pull up along side of him just to get a glimpse. At one traffic light I pulled along side. George was deep in thought and didn't seem to notice me. He was magnificent as he sat there. His profile was as rugged as a mountain. Still clean shaven, his sideburns ran about two-thirds of the way to the bottom of his ears. He was handsome in a way I had never before experienced. It looked like his face was carved from oak. Even through his t-shirt thick hair could still be seen escaping over the top of his collar. His arms were indescribable. The forearms were larger than even I had imagined. The wrists were huge and the hands looked more imposing than I had noticed before. Still, most impressive was the thick hair the man sported on his arms. When his right arm was reached out towards the steering wheel the sunlight reflected majestically off the fur. It was softly curled and gloriously thick. If you had pulled each strand straight out from the arms it would extend several inches. He once stroked that fur as if for my enjoyment and I nearly fainted from all the blood rushing to my genitals. The light turned and he drove off. I tried to collect myself but was so excited that I lost sight of him before the next light. For the next year or so I would drive the road where I had last seen him hoping to run into him again. The job at Midtown had apparently ended and he didn't return there. Nearly a full year after first seeing him, I was again searching for him along the road where I last saw him. There, up in the distance, I noticed what appeared to be a white pick-up truck. As I drove closer I noticed a large man behind the wheel. When I spotted the extremely hairy muscular arm hanging out the driver's side window I knew I had found him. I quickly turned the car around to follow. George proceeded to a small country store just down the road. He pulled into the parking lot, left the truck and entered the building. I followed him inside as quickly as I might without attracting attention. I entered the store and turned to my left to see where the big man went. "You in a hurry, son"? a commanding voice asked. My heart felt like it would stop only to then race out of control. I looked up and stared straight into the eyes of Big George. "Excuse me?", I weakly replied. "Well I saw you make that u-turn back there and race up behind me. Then you pulled into the lot here and practically ran inside." The voice was befitting such a man. It was deep and resonant and seemed to come from somewhere in the depths of his massive chest. "Is someone chasing you son?" He stepped towards me looking out in the lot to see if there was someone looking for me. As he did the hair escaping from his open collar passed within inches of my face. My eyes locked on that glorious sight and, involuntary, I inhaled sharply. "No sir." I replied in a voice that sounded more like I wanted me to sound. "Good, as hot looking as you are I'd think you'd be chased a lot. Know what I mean?" He placed one hand on each hip, tilted his head to the side slightly, smiled and arched his eyebrows. All the while his chest stayed just inches from me. The man was coming on to me! I couldn't believe it. I struggled to breathe normally and regain my composure. The man of my dreams had just let me know in no uncertain terms that he wanted me. Hadn't he? "If someone was chasing me they would back off for sure if they thought I was with you", I said. "You're the most powerful looking man I've ever seen". I found myself drinking in the masculinity of the man. All the hair and muscle and those eyes that had captivated me was more than I could have dreamed of. "Name's George. George Regenauer" he said extending his huge furry right hand. I placed my hand in his determined to give him a formidable grip. It was no use. His hand swallowed mine and I was completely at his mercy. He released my hand giving me only the slightest indication of the terrible strength he possessed. I realized that I had a hard-on unlike any I'd ever experienced before. "Tell you what. Why don't you follow me to my place and we can talk and get to know each other better." I hesitated. I guess it was a little too much for me. My mind raced. What if he was a basher who only wanted to pulverize me? There is no way that I would be able to overcome him. I'd be completely at his mercy. "What's the matter?" he asked noticing my reticence. "I promise I won't bite you," then adding with a laugh, "unless you like that. Look, if you like we could just go somewhere and talk. The truth of the matter is, I think that you are an attractive fellow and I'd like to get to know you. That's all. If something else develops--and I hope it does--then that's great too. Most guys take one look at me and they're scared to death. I don't think that you're like that but most of all, I just don't want to see you walk away without at least taking a shot." I decided to take a chance of my own. I figured that I would meet this type of man only once in a lifetime. I would have to take my chances and see. "O.K. I'd love to get to know you better too." "Great, just follow me . I live about a half a mile from here." I followed him out to the lot and got in my car. My heart was racing. George climbed into his truck and pulled away. He stopped at the entrance to the road and checked that I was still behind him. I was. I had decided to do this and there was no turning back now. We drove down a quiet country lane from the store. As he had said, his house quickly appeared. It was a white rancher with a well kept lawn. There were some used cars for sale in front of the house. "A hobby of mine " he later confided. A large garage was in back, where he no doubt worked on his cars and prepared them for sale. In the rear of the garages were literally thousands of pounds of weights. There was a bench press and squat rack with Olympic size plates. A heavy punching bag was suspended from the ceiling. "Another spare time activity for me." he said with a slight laugh. George parked in the garage. I kept mine just outside. "Come on in" he said. I followed up the back steps through a door into the kitchen area. "Grab a beer if you want. There's soda too. Help yourself. I'm going to get out of these clothes. I'm sure I don't smell too good."" I took a Coors Light from the fridge and sat down in the living room. The place was all masculine. Various athletic awards were displayed on the wall. Most were for football but there was a couple for wrestling. I learned George was a two-time state champ at heavyweight back in the 50's. "Don't believe everything you see there, son." I turned to see George coming from the kitchen with a Coor's Light in his huge hand. "It's pure propaganda" he added with a laugh. My heart stopped when I saw him. He was wearing only a pair of gym shorts and he was a showstopper. As I had imagined he was covered with thick body hair. At his chest, the hair had some grey mixing in but everywhere else it was dark brown. It rose off his body in gentle loose swirls covering every inch of him in a glorious manly sweater. I had not been able to see his legs before now but they were worth the wait. They were monstrously thick and powerful and coated with the same gorilla thick fur that blanketed his upper body. Those legs complimented his upper body perfectly. He sat down next to me on the couch and took a drink from his beer. The thick muscles of his neck came into focus as he drained the can. I noticed that his clean shaven face had what appeared to me to be a couple days growth on it. I could clearly see that where he stopped shaving (at the point where the top of his chest met the base of his neck) the thick chest hair commenced in earnest. This man was a body hair growing factory all by himself. I reached out to stroke the also incredibly thick forearm fur and shuddered from the mere act of touching of it. "I've never felt fur like that before Sir. My God, you're incredible. I've never met anyone ..." My words were cut off by his hot mouth pressing onto mine, crushing my lips against his. His tongue drove down into my mouth and towards my throat. I moaned and wrapped my arms around him. He put one hand against the back of my head cradling it. His sandpaper rough beard scraped pleasurably against my cheeks. I rubbed my hands across his broad hairy back. We continued to kiss and moving one hand to his chest I began to run my fingers through his chest hair. I spread my fingers wide and felt the fur go past each finger. It was inches thick there and luxuriously soft. I somehow pulled my lips from his and began to kiss his chest. I slowly moved down to find his manly nipples deeply hidden in his magnificent chest hair. I gently nibbled at them and felt the big man shudder. I wrapped my hands around him again and chewed furiously but gently. A deep chested growl came from him. He was breathing heavier now and, though still seated, his hips began to slowly buck in and out. He placed his hands on my shoulders and began to press downward. I resisted as I wanted to continue nibbling on his chest. "No boy, lower!" he commanded revealing just a fraction of his strength and forced me down. I enjoyed the trip as much as I could. The hair on his stomach was as thick as it was on his chest and I opened my mouth wide to try and take in as much fur into my mouth as possible. George had other ideas though and he knew just what to feed me. He quickly stripped off the shorts using his left hand. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and felt his thick tool slide in. George placed his hand on the back of my head and forced me down his shaft. He pushed me all the way to his base. I tasted the salty seed oozing from his hole. I was gagging from the size of the man and pushed desperately to get away but big George held me as if I had no strength at all (which compared to him I didn't). He pulled me back up towards the head and then shoved me roughly down again. I was not affecting the action at all. Big George was controlling everything. I was entirely at his mercy. I loved it. The pace grew quicker as he slammed me down harder and harder each time. Soon he started to moan. It was more like a growl that grew louder as the pace grew still faster. Finally, the muscles of his huge arm tensed and he locked me down at the base of his Man steak and proceeded to erupt like a great volcano. Wave after wave passed through him causing him to shudder and convulse with each discharge. Each wave shot powerfully against the back of my throat. Finally, the waves passed and he sighed signaling the end of his release. When he stopped the hair on his magnificent body was damp with sweat. I looked at him and was taken aback by the raw primeval beauty of the man. He seemed more rugged than before. He wrapped his great arms around me and pulled me to him. I pressed my face to his chest and once again luxuriated in his fur. I could feel the thick hair of his arms against my back. I looked up at his face and saw that his eyes were closed. A smile of pure contentment crossed his face and with a heavy sigh he asked ... no, told me to stay for the night. I rested my head on one magnificent pectoral, closed my eyes and thanked God for this moment. Eventually, my cock reduced back to normal size. I had not cum yet but was still more satisfied than I had ever been before. George had left the room to clean up the loads left drying on him. When he returned he saw me awake. I will be setting an extra place for dinner, if you'd like to stay that is. I smiled and felt my heart race once more. "I 'd love nothing more than that". That night we climbed into his bed and I realized that I had found the man of my dreams. I would not let him go!

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6 Gay Erotic Stories from Jack Samson

A Feast of Fur And Muscle

I first saw George Regenauer on June 17, 1985. I had just graduated from college and could only find summer work as a painter in the maintenance department at my old high school. Unfortunately, that job didn't start until the local schools let out at the end of June. Until then, I had a lot of free time on my hands. On that particular day I decided to hop in my car and head to the

Bear Wrestler

It had been some time since I'd stopped at this rest area. My new route seldom brought me by here anymore and when it did I was usually just too busy to stop. There was a time when you could pretty much expect some kind of action here. Truckers from up and down the east coast would hit it on their runs and they seemed to draw a bit of a crowd. I guess the reason I liked

Daddy Bear

I have always been infatuated with hairy men. Large, rugged, powerfully built men. It began as a child when I noticed my uncle's thick and hairy arms. I used to enjoy rubbing up against them and feeling how strong they were. My uncle was a stout man weighing 230 pounds of factory work muscle. He was the strongest man I knew, and I wanted to be just like him. As I grew older,

Furnace Repair For Free

I had just received the call to go to a nearby house. It seems that the lady of the house was having problems with her heater and I needed to make some repairs. Of course it was always to get a call from a woman who was not likely to understand the first thing about her unit. I could almost always expect to make a killing. I pulled up the house and knocked on the door. A

My First And Hairiest

I knew I loved hairy men the first time I saw Mr. Bowen in a tank top. He was massively built and hairy beyond description. His chest hair measured several inches. His massive arms were covered from knuckle to shoulder. The fur swarmed over those broad shoulders and down his back. He was clean shaven with a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow. He was ruggedly handsome with high cheekbones

The Gorilla On My Street

This is a fictional story. If you are under the age of 18 or are offended by sexual relations between men, please stop here. It was a warm late September day when the moving van rolled down my street. The large house on the corner had been sold, finally and today the new owners would move in. The house had been difficult to sell and with good reason. The town where I live is

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