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The Bear Baloo was making sounds like a bear emerging from a hibernation. They were fitting considering the moniker I have chosen for him. Don’t let what I him fool you. Baloo is beyond the quintessential sadist in my mind. Things like that are always dependent on the beholder of course but Baloo is like wine to the deluge of water-types I have played with. Baloo the bear is intoxicating, fascinating…my masochistic wet dream. The angry red and purple bruise spreading up the inside of my thigh would instantly tell you the former…the state of my swollen pussy, also peppered with spidery lines of impact-broken veins, would convey the latter. The name – ‘Baloo’ – sort of bloomed out of my mind rather quickly after our metaphorical “we’ve been fucking this entire conversation” introductory discourse. It was a play on what I had been ing him. It slips easily off my tongue and is carried through the distance between us with an air of warmth, affection, mirth and a more than a little irony. It defrays a bit of the menace my mind sometimes wants to attribute to him. No, not attribute. Ill-intent makes me wet. Baloo introduced himself with describing in rather sinister sounding words what he would like to do to me. It did not take me to know that there would be times he would savagely maul me. I’ve been rooted to a spot though, staring down the tempest that is Baloo. We are in my mind the mongrel maulkin and the bear; one full of feral, the other full of menace. I’ve torn into my fair share of folk. I could tear into Baloo but I have no doubt I would lose. I want to lose. They is an ever-present sense of inevitability with Baloo the bear. Baloo was drowsy and languorous tonight – benign, I thought. Sounds of rousing from slumber started to turn into low rumbling growls. “Is my hearing playing tricks on me?” I kept musing inside my head. On several occasions I physiy shook out the gray matter between my deceiving ears in a pointless effort to clear the haze his carnal sounds were creating. I’d been edgy as fuck the entire day anyway. Before 9 am I had already announced I had “the female equivalent of a raging boner” so I knew…I knew…denial had reached an impasse.

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