Yuri Tricks the Bear into Sharing

Old Westbury, New York, Fall 1998

When we were living in New York, Yuri and I sometimes took the train to Old Westbury, where Ravi and his partner Claude held monthly "bear parties."

Ravi was in his 40s, South Asian, with a very hairy chest. I never found out what he did for a living.

Claude was in his 20s, from England, a biology student at Adelphi University, slim and smooth, with an enormous penis, easily a Mortadella+.

They lived in a big house, square, white, and ultra-modern, with a pool, a hot tub, and a game room.

They charged $5 for admission, to cover the cost of the snacks, condoms, lube, and towels.

The rules of the bear party were:
1. You had to be nude.  You could bring a towel to sit on, but no wrapping it around yourself.
2. No discussions of women or feminine beauty.
3. No sex in the living room, dining room, or kitchen.  You had to use the game room, tv room, or pool.
4. Use a condom for anal.
5. No attitude.  Let other guys watch, go down on you, or lend a hand.

But Ravi and Claude never participated in the activities.  They stayed in the living room, keeping track of the guests, taking the money, making sure no one stole anything.  Ravi sometimes went back to address a problem, but Claude never left.  It was as if he was on a leash.

Why host a "bear party" if you're not going to participate?  Or even watch?

And there was another problem: Yuri was interested in Claude.  He usually liked his guys a little older and more muscular, but the Mortadella+ was exceptional.

Besides, they had a lot in common.  They were both international students.  They were both newly out (Claude had only dated two guys before moving in with Ravi).  They liked the same movies and tv shows, like the Britcom Mr. Bean.  

Yuri took to spending most of his time in the living room, talking to Claude.

"Well, if they're holding bear parties, they must have an open relationship," I said.  "Why don't you ask him out?"

"I asked him,  He wants to go with me, but he says they are not open."  He paused.  "But I know Ravi does things.  When he goes to the back, guys go down on him.  He doesn't tell Claude."

"That doesn't seem fair."

Yuri shrugged.  "I don't want to tell him, and get in the middle.  But what can I do?"

I suggested a little double play.

1. Yuri and I went to the party together, stripped, and wandered off separately.

2. I waited until two guys started doing anal in the game room. Then I ran to the living room and told Ravi, "Hey, there's two guys in the kitchen doing anal without a condom."

Violating the two biggest rules of the party?  Ravi stood immediately and followed me back.  But the guys were in the game room, and upon inspection, definitely using a condom.

3. Ravi apologized for interrupting them and turned to me.

I shrugged.  "I guess they moved.  But as long as you're here..."  I knelt and started going down on him.

4. At that moment, Yuri, who was lurking nearby, took the half-full tray of  mini-quiches from the snack table and deposited them in the refrigerator.  He ran into the living room.  "Hey, you are out of mini quiches," he told Claude.

"Really?" Claude asked, beaming. "They went fast."  They were his prize recipe, the centerpiece of his snack array.

"Can you get more?"

"Ravi will get more out when he comes back.  He just has to drizzle them with melted butter and microwave them for thirty seconds."

"You are the cook.  You must do it."

Claude looked uncertain.  "Well....I have to man the front door."

"It will take a minute.  Please...they were really good."

Claude was persuaded.  He followed Yuri to the kitchen, where the mini-quiches were indeed all gone.  And I was going down on his partner.

5. "Hey, what are you doing?" Claude exclaimed.  Other guys stopped their activity to watch.  Would there be fireworks?  Recriminations?  A packed suitcase?

No.  Yuri took Claude by the hand and led him to Ravi.  They began to kiss.  Then Yuri knelt and took my place, working on them both at once.

He ended up spending the night and introducing Ravi and Claude to the concept of "sharing."

See also: Third Wheel to a Muscle God.