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Monster Media 1993 #2
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S&M-11
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1993-06-20
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4KB
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106 lines
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░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░Nor Do I Ever Intend to Become... A Bear░░░░░░by Vic Kryston
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"Hi, there, do you come here often?"
"Often? Often!" She grabbed my shirt and pushed. I found
myself sitting suddenly. On a couch. She sat next to me with a
sudden, spastic move that caused her long, blond hair to settle
fetchingly about her lovely features. She continued speaking,
"Often is so relative! I mean, you must be really a good listener.
Are you a Pisces? Never mind. I can tell you're a good listener!
You're not a bear are you?"
I assured her that I was not now, never had been nor ever
intended to be a bear. Her eyes glowed invitingly as she leaned in
to me, putting her hand on my knee.
"Thank god! Thank god you're not a bear. Do you want to know
why it is so great that you're no bear?"
I could think of no reason why I should not know why being
non-bear played so well in my favor, so I nodded encouragingly and
settled back to listen as the party swirled around us.
"Bears! I used to like 'em, you know. Used to go out of my
way to be nice to 'em, you know?"
I assured her that, indeed, I knew.
"But the damn things!...Well, I'm getting ahead of myself."
"Would you like another drink?"
"Not too warm?"
"No!"
"Not too cold--I hate cold!"
"No--just right," I assured her.
She grabbed my shirt again and yanked herself and me to our
respective feet. Then she leaned in close and said in a suspicious
voice, "Are you sure you're not a bear...?"
"No! Look!" and I lifted my Grateful Dead tee shirt so that
she could see my hairless chest.
"You coulda shaved! Damn bears can't be trusted!"
"No! I've never shaved my chest. And I only shave my face
once a week or so." This seemed to calm her. We sat down again,
and she continued her tale.
"Oh yes. Bears were once OK in my book. That is until I
found out their true, ya know, animal nature. Ugh!" She shuddered
becomingly, and I put my arms protectively around her.
"Help!" she screamed, "Bear hug! Bear hug!" and began running
around the room.
Our hostess tried to soothe her. "Here," said the hostess,
"have one of these." offering a tray of snacks.
"Too hot!" yelled my golden haired acquaintance, and she threw
a tiny hot dog out the window.
"Too cold!" and a piece of melon followed suit.
"Ahhhh, just right." she breathed, biting happily into a
pleasant looking cracker and cheese dipped in porridge.
I took her arm and led her back to the couch. I had to kiss
her several times before presenting the method of osculation that
was to her taste, the others being "too wet," "too dry," and "too
yucky" in that order.
But eventually I seemed to become "just right," and I was
feeling somewhat certain that I had taken her mind off of bears,
for she was responding to my ministrations with a good deal of
enthusiasm. After a time of this we decided to go off in search of
a bit of privacy.
We explored the house of our hostess, and discovering one bed
that was too hard, and one that was too soft, we finally fell into
each other's arms on a pleasant quilt covered piece of sleeping
furniture that seemed just right. I began thinking heavenly things
as we began hugging--and other things-- which had me so engrossed
that I was truly startled by the outraged roar erupting from the
doorway.
A huge, hairy person stood in the door, growling something
about other people being in his bed.
My beloved blond one jumped out the window taking just enough
time to yell over her shoulder, "Next time leave your grizzlies
home, fella!"
I left, excusing myself as I shouldered past the hairy
person, who started to ask me my sign.
It all drove me quite to extraction. When leaving, I was
tempted to cry, "I can't bear this!" But I chose not to.