Dix: Harry, I can’t remember if I’ve thanked you for the Pirates of Penzance ticket. They’re great seats, I could practically see the sweat dripping off the actors. You know, I don’t normally like musicals, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s a shame Ian didn’t have a bigger role.

Harry: Don’t mention it. Ian just like getting involved, and actually, the ticket is all his doing. I suppose, it’s always better for the company playing to a packed house than an empty one.

Dix: True, but I doubt they’ll have problem selling tickets, especially with the raving reviews.

Harry: No, Ian said the whole run is mostly sold out already. Apparently, they are contemplating extending it for an extra week, so no one is disappointed.

Dix: Why not? Since they have already done all the hard work putting it on stage. So, how are things with you? Have you been saving lives by the dozen as usual?

Harry: I don’t keep track, but certainly helped a fair few in serious distress. I’ve already done a couple of long shifts since I last saw you and will be working all weekend too.

Dix: That’s tough. I’ve no idea when do you find time for Ian?

Harry: He’s just as busy with work, and recently with the theatre as well, but we manage. There are days we hardly see each other, so we always try to make the most of our time together.

Dix: You know what you need is a holiday or a long weekend away.

Harry: Funny enough, we talked about going on a short trip just the other night over dinner. Hopefully, after Pirates of Penzance has finished.

Dix: Great. Where are you guys thinking about going to? Didn’t you say you had a fantastic time in Cornwall not long ago, will you go back there again?

Harry: Yes, we really enjoyed Cornwall, but we would like to go somewhere different. Scotland is high on the list at the moment.

Dix: I love Scotland. Anywhere in particular?

Harry: We’re not sure yet. We have both been to Edinburgh before, but not together, so it’s a possibility. Otherwise, we thought about hiking through some scenic countryside around one of the lochs.

Dix: Both sound good to me. Just make sure you avoid the midges season if you go walking. They are a real pest, if you pardon my pun.

Harry: Glad you reminded me, we should definitely take that into consideration. Being bitten to death by those tiny flying nightmares is not my idea of a good holiday.

Dix: There are plenty of helpful advice online to help you avoid them. Frankly, I won’t go walking in the countryside without bug spray anyway. They love sucking my blood.

Harry: That’s because you’re so sweet.

Dix: Yeah right! I’m not sure about sweet, more of an easy target. Just make sure you bring back a bottle of single malt or two, if you’re going.

Harry: That’ll go without saying. If there is time, we would like to visit at least one distillery and sample their products.

Dix: You must do. I’ve done that before, and it’s really worth doing. Then again, one time I did get a little tipsy after trying all the free whisky tasters on offer.

Harry: I doubt you’re the only one.

Butch: The only one, what? Here are your beers, guys.

Dix: Thanks, Butch. We were just talking about getting drunk during one of those whisky distillery tours. Do you know Harry and Ian are thinking about taking a trip to Scotland?

Harry: We’re still planning, but hopefully, we’ll find time to go after Ian finishes with the show.

Butch: Nice one. I must give you my shopping list before you go. There’s this brand of shortbread biscuit that’s impossible to find outside Scotland. They’re to die for! And obviously a bottle of single malt. I always have fun there and come home with a full suitcase of goodies.

Harry: And empty balls! Don’t you go to some bear event in Scotland every year? Do your own shopping next time you’re up there.

Butch: Yeah, the one in Edinburgh. I found the Scots are such a friendly bunch and always enjoy a good laugh. It’s not surprising, there’s normally a lot of eating and drinking involved.

Dix: Not mentioning loads of sex as well! Everyone I know who has been before has only good things to say about it. I’ll have to see what’s all the fuss is about one day.

Butch: You’ll be in your elements. I bet those Scottish daddy bears will be all over you.

Dix: Don’t tempt me! Big bears in kilts are so hot, especially the ones with a big, round gut.

Harry: What? Like that big bear in the magazine you were drooling over earlier on?

Dix: Yeah, just like him. Love to see him wearing nothing but a kilt.

Harry: And a fumble under it. Anyway, to all the sexy ball belly bears; in and out of their kilts.

Dix: Hear, hear! To ball belly bears! Especially, those showing off their tree trunk legs in kilts.

Butch: To ball belly bears! And, as they say in Scotland, slàinte mhath. You know, there must be something in the Scottish water, all their men have massive legs. At least, the ones I’ve met.

Harry: Lucky you. I think kilts are perfect for those with thick thighs and calves. If we decided to spend a few days in Scotland, I’d love to get one made for Ian. He’ll look so sexy in it.

Butch: Definitely, and you should buy one for yourself, too. Possibly, a matching one will be even better, so you two can go around mooning people together after a gutful of beer.

Harry: There aren’t enough beer in the world for me to do that. Anyway, I don’t have the body or legs for it.

Dix: Are you kidding me? Of course, you do. I bet you’ll have to constantly keeping guys from checking if you’re not wearing any underwear like a true Scots man.

Harry: Isn’t that sexual harassment? If not, it should be. It must take some getting used to feeling cool breeze against one’s dangling balls when wearing a kilt. Aren’t they pretty expensive?

Dix: It’ll be worth the money. Maybe they’ll give you a discount for buying a matching pair.

Harry: As if, it’s not like bargaining at a flea market. Anyway, Ian and I are not the matching clothes wearing type, with the only exception on our wedding day.

Butch: I didn’t say anything back then, but now you mention it, those dark matching suits made you two looked like a couple of bouncers, in a sexy but “don’t mess with us” way. All you were missing is a high-tech earpiece each to complete the look.

Harry: Is that right? I’d take it as a compliment. At the wedding, one of our friends turned up in his full Scottish regalia – kilt, sporran, the whole works down to the little dagger kilt pin. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t got yourself a kilt after all the trips to Scotland.

Butch: Actually, I’ve long thought about getting a kilt myself. Surely, if I look far enough back in my family tree, there must be someone with Scottish blood, so I can adopt their family tartan. You’ll never know, I could even belong to a powerful clan, or relate to royalty.

Dix: You? A royalty? Dream on! I bet you fancy yourself as a rebel leader, like William Wallace.

Butch: Freeeedommm! Freeeedommm!

Harry: You do know most of the film was made up? Come to think of it, I can just picture you dressed in a tartan kilt tossing the caber, or doing the hammer throw, against all the big hunky Scottish men in the Highland Games.

Butch: Really? Given the opportunity, I’d love to have a go at them or any of the other events. After all, I’ve plenty of practice at tossing my caber already.

Harry: We can always count on you to lower the tone of the conversation.

Butch: What’s wrong with that? You know, I’ve tossed a fair few thick Scottish logs during my past visits to the bear events there.

Dix: What, just a few? No one is going to believe that.

Butch: I try not to boast, but did I tell you one year, I got a bit tipsy during the bear event and ended up in the hotel room of this kilt-wearing Scottish bear? Don’t ask me for the details, since they were kind of hazy, but we had lots of fun together before passing out in bed.

Dix: I thought that’s practically routine for you. So, was there anything special about this guy?

Butch: Not really, some guys are just more memorable than others. I must admit, I had plenty of companies in bed every time I was there, and it could be a bit of a blur after a while.

Dix: You mean you don’t keep a shag diary? He could be under “bear with the big furry sporran”.

Butch: Very funny. Anyway, I’m quite sure he’s called Callum, and he spoke with a thick Highlands accent. We got chatting in a pub, and he was full of funny stories about his life in some remote part of Scotland. Round about closing time, he insisted I had to try this limited edition whisky he had brought with him back in his hotel room.

Harry: Now, how can anyone turn down an offer like that? Knowing you, you would have gone even if there’s no free whisky.

Butch: Oh, definitely. You would have too. Even before the hotel room door was shut, he was already sticking his tongue in my mouth, nearly all the way to my tonsil. Well, I’m hardly going to resist. Once we were in the room, I quickly threw off my clothes and helped him out of his t-shirt and kilt. He has a big Celtic knot tattoo across his big hairy chest and another bear claw shape one on his left butt cheek. I don’t usually like tattoos, but maybe because I had a lot to drink, they didn’t bother me and looked rather good on him.

Dix: I know plenty of guys with tattoos. They don’t bother me either, but obviously some looks better than others.

Butch: Me too, but I’ve no interest in getting inked. So, there I was standing butt-naked in Callum’s hotel room, and he started to work his mouth from my neck slowly down passing my hairy pecs, furry stomach, all the way to my meat. After plenty of oral actions, he left my huge boner dripping with his saliva and pulled me towards the bed. He threw back the cover, jumped on, and got on all four with his round butt cheeks facing me.

Dix: Nice one. It doesn’t take a mind reader to work out what he wanted.

Butch: Oh no! I couldn’t help spreading his lightly furred butt cheeks and bury my face between them. He made this deep grunting sound every time I forced open his hungry pink hole with my tongue, and before long begged me to fuck his big Scottish arse.

Dix: How predictable!

Butch: It did take a few tries before I managed to squeeze the head of my cock inside his tight hole, and that’s even after applying a generous amount of lube and spit. Once the mushroom head fully disappeared into his arsehole, the rest of the shaft slid in easily.

Harry: I hope you didn’t hurt him with that pretty substantial third leg of yours.

Butch: I doubt it, he might be a bit out of practice, that’s all. Well, he soon enjoyed having my thick cock filling his rectum, judging from all his moaning. Time and time again, his big dangling balls would bash against mine, as he fucked himself like there’s no tomorrow.

Dix: I know that feeling, can’t beat it. Heavy, low hangers are so much fun.

Butch: Definitely. Now and then, I’d pull out completely just to plunge straight back into him. You know, he loved it so much, his bear cock was rock-hard and leaking precum continuously.

Dix: I bet you were making him squeal like a little piggy.

Butch: I don’t recall any squealing, but he was talking dirty to me in his broad Scottish accent the whole time. After a while, Callum got a bit stiff being on all four and laid down on the bed face down, spread-eagle, showing me his wet gaping hole. I couldn’t help throwing myself on top of him, and nailing his hairy arse to finish off what I started.

Dix: Wish I could be a fly on the wall and watch him squashed underneath you.

Butch: It must look like I was lying on a big bear skin rug and grinding away like my life depended on it. After a few strokes, I heard him said, “Yeah, right there. That’s the spot.”. Without any further instructions, I doubled down on my efforts, quickening my rhythm and before long he tensed up and said, “You are going to make me cum.”. Sure enough, he started shaking from wave after wave of anal orgasm and pumped his Scottish bear seeds all over the sheet without even touching his cock.

Harry: I do pity the housekeeping finding the mess and having to clean after you guys.

Butch: I very much doubt we are the only one leaving cum stained sheets behind. I agree, it’s not pleasant, but they have probably seen a lot worse. Anyway, where was I? Oh, as Callum was cumming, his arse sphincter contracted repeatedly around my cock and kicked started my own orgasm. It felt great filling his hungry hole with my load while lying on his hairy back and holding him firmly in my arms. After his arse has milked me dry, I kissed his neck and we both passed out from exhaustion on the cum soaked sheet.

Harry: Sounded like you both can do with some rest after all the heavy physical exercise. By the way, did he actually offer you any whisky?

Butch: Thinking about it, no, but the sex more than made up for it, so I won’t hold it against him.

Dix: Maybe there wasn’t any whisky in the first place, it’s just a bait to lure you into bed.

Butch: I doubt it, he was probably just too busy licking my body to remember the whiskey.

Dix: So did you disappear after getting your rocks off?

Butch: Not this time. I seriously doubt I was in any fit state to find my way back to my hotel anyway. Just as well, since I was woken up in the early morning by something hard poking at my butt hole. It dawned on me that I haven’t paid much attention to Callum’s cock the night before, and it was looking for some seriously overdue action.

Dix: That’s one bonus about sleeping over. I love playing with morning woods.

Butch: Don’t we all. Talking about wood, his cock was one thick log with a slight upward curve with a couple of egg-size testicles dangling below.

Dix: They must be a serious mouthful. Who doesn’t like Scotch eggs?

Butch: Yeah, even if they were covered in hair instead of breadcrumbs. He was so turned on, his thick foreskin was pulled right back, revealing the shiny pink helmet wet with precum. Without any prompting, I wrapped my mouth around that irresistible veiny cock and stroked its sensitive underside with my tongue. Callum let out a loud groan and held my head in place with his thick hands, so he can feed me the whole thing.

Harry: I thought you are usually the dominant one.

Butch: Normally, but nothing is set in stone. It’s rude to refuse that nice Scottish bear sausage.

Dix: So how did he rate your oral skills?

Butch: Let’s just say he was “agreeing” with what I was doing, a lot. After some intense sucking, I thought it would be fun to turn things up and jammed a couple of my fingers inside his used hole and started rubbing his rock-hard prostate. Immediately, more of his salty precum gushes out like a leaky tap.

Harry: I bet you were working him like a glove puppet.

Butch: Sort of, more like finger puppet, since I doubt he was into fisting. His normally saggy ball sac began to pull tight towards his body, and I knew he was getting close. While keeping up the prostate massage, I moved my attention to his big balls and started sucking them one at a time. It turned out exactly to be the stimulation he needed to push him over the edge. “That’s it, that’s it! You’re making me cum!” he yelled and grabbed his throbbing cock, with a few quick jerks, thick cum shot out landing all over his hairy body with some even reaching his beard.

Dix: Wow. I’d love to see that in slow motion. You should have filmed it.

Butch: Yeah, I guess it would make a hot clip, but we weren’t making porn. It’s go without saying, I was hard all the time while I was servicing Callum, and seeing him cum was just the final straw. I quickly manoeuvred my cock next to his and started rubbing them together. They were way too thick for me to grip at the same time, luckily trickles of his cum were still leaking from his cock which made sliding our cocks together easier, and in no time I shot my load, adding to Callum’s own sticky mess.

Harry: That’s typical of you making a mess everywhere you go.

Butch: And your point is? He loved it so much, he rubbed our cum all over his hairy body, pulled me on top of him and gave me a big wet kiss. We both fell asleep again, just to be woken up by his alarm, but by then our cum has dried and glued our hairy bodies together. It was hilarious when we tried to pry us apart carefully without tearing too many hair off.

Dix: Don’t you just hate that? Actually, it has happened to me before and left a little bald patch. I can’t imagine why women will voluntarily torture themselves with waxing.

Butch: No, neither can I. We eventually cleaned up, and he treated me to breakfast at the hotel. We both got a big plateful of bacon, eggs, sausages, baked beans, but instead of haggis, I had black pudding. He teased me about eating haggis will put hair on my chest, which I replied I don’t need any more hair on my chest. Unwilling to concede, he said at least it will help to grow back the chest hair I lost when we tried to free each other. We both laughed so loudly, the hungover people from the next table gave us death stares.

Harry: What’s not to like about haggis? You should try covering it in brown sauce.

Butch: I’ll bear that in mind next time someone serves me haggis. I suppose, everything taste better covered in brown sauce or ketchup, even offal stuffed in sheep stomach!

Dix: For sure. So, did you see him around during the rest of the bear event?

Butch: I did once, but he was chatting with his friends and I didn’t want to intrude, so I just smile and waved. He waved back, and the guys he was with gave me a knowing look from head to toes before resuming their conversation. I can’t help but think if Callum had told them about what we got up to.

Dix: Surely, he would have given you a 5 stars review to your performance.

Butch: Honestly, I couldn’t care less. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Dix: I must see if I’ve enough holidays, so I can go and check it for myself. Out of curiosity, are you going this year?

Butch: You won’t regret it. I’ve no solid plans yet, but since I missed last year’s event, I’ll be very much like to make an appearance again and restock my whisky supply.

Harry: Face it, you just can’t get enough of those chunky Scots. Maybe I can twist Ian’s arm and come along with you guys. I wonder if we’ll know anybody else there.

Butch: I’m sure you’ll do. I bumped into so many guys I know every time I went, it’s practically like Who’s Who of the bear world.

Dix: That’s because you are so popular.

Butch: Are you implying I’m a tart? I’ve just been around longer.

Dix: Those are your words, not mine. Anyway, are you guys ready for another beer? Feels like I’m no longer pitching a tent in my jeans, so I better go to the bar before one of you start reminiscing another one of your raunchy adventures and gets me excited all over again.

Butch: Just admit it, you love my stories. Yes, thanks. I need a beer after all that talking.

Harry: I can do with another one too. Thank you, Dix.

Dix: Sure, I’ll be right back with our beer.