Prologue
The kitchen was dim, touched only by the golden spill of sunlight through the windows. The rest of the house was quiet. No kids. No interruptions. Just the hum of the fridge and the thick silence of desire.
They were wrapped around each other on the old wooden table — two hairy, built men locked in heat, kissing hard, their bodies slick with sweat. Around them, the kitchen was a mess — plates shoved aside, food spilled and crushed underfoot, like their hunger had knocked the world out of balance.
Nathan held Parker close as he thrust deep into him, slow and powerful. Nathan’s thick, uncut cock — a solid nine inches — slid fully inside Parker’s bare, hairy hole, each steady push met with a soft, breathless moan. Parker’s legs were wrapped tight around Nathan’s waist, arms hooked around his neck, pulling him closer, keeping him inside.
Their hairy chests pressed together, lips crashing again and again, tongues hungry. They were all over each other — rough, needing, like nothing else mattered but this.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
This was how bears made love when their species was on the brink of extinction — primal, desperate, beautiful.
Nathan’s body was broad and heavy with mature muscle, a solid 6’2”, thick through the chest and arms, dusted in salt-and-pepper hair that ran down his torso in a trail of curls. Parker was no less built — slightly shorter, stocky like an ex-athlete, his own chest heaving, covered in sweat-slicked curls. His thighs were strong and wide, locked around Nathan’s waist, drawing him deeper.
And his ass — thick, round, covered in soft, natural hair — was Nathan’s favorite place in the world. Untouched, unshaved, just the way Nathan liked it.
Nathan had come home early from his trip, surprising his husband in the middle of the day. Now, they were on the kitchen table, bodies grinding, mouths searching, mating with the intensity of men who knew how rare this kind of love was.
Their sons, Jason and Nick — both seven and already best friends — were at school. The house was still. The quiet was theirs. And Nathan filled it with Parker — with love, with heat, with everything he had.
Ten months ago, Nathan — a 42-year-old accountant, newly divorced, broken but trying — had moved to this town with nothing but his son and a hope for peace.
Parker, 36, a junior school football coach, had been a single dad for a year already, still carrying the weight of everything that had ended.
Neither of them had ever been with a man before.
Neither of them thought they would be.
But what grew between them wasn’t confusion, or lust, or recklessness.
It was love — real, quiet, powerful love — that found them when they’d stopped searching.
And now, here they were.
Two men. Two fathers. Wrapped around each other like roots around the same tree — fucking like animals, kissing like soulmates, loving like it was the only thing keeping them alive.
