SHEBEARS IN THE WOOD

There are bears in the woods near where I live, all of them she-bears and they are big! When you go there you’ve had it! They are not aggressive or so, on the contrary: they are darlings. And beautiful with their magnificent fur. Some are rusty-coloured, others dark blue, even orange, or green or red. There is at least one albino bear among them. Each time I’m in the woods I can’t stop searching for them, knowing they must be somewhere around. They are really attractive too, literally so. When I happen to see one of them after a while, watching me from a distance, with her roguish beady eyes, there is no way to stop myself from walking towards her. Then, as her power of attraction gets me very close to her, my legs start trembling, but I can’t return. Right in front of her I feel so tiny!
So far I’ve survived these encounters. They like playing, but their games are pretty rough. Each of them has her own funny game. Sometimes I’m treated as a beach ball, when I’m thrown through the air from one to the other; from one soft landing to the other. It makes me dizzy but I can’t say I don’t like it. One of them is always waiting for me on a tree branch. Her fur is pink and very long. I call her Aline. She is among the smallest of them and likes throwing herself on top of me to make me fall on my back. She then holds me tightly and puts one of her forepaws around my head to give it some soft and warm support. Her fur is about to suffocate me when she suddenly gets up and quickly disappears behind the trees. She seems of the more cheerful type.
The bright blue bear is also rather young. I call her Tuerkis and she seems to like playing hide and seek but would then also grab and smother me a few times after catching me or inviting me to catch her. For all of them, even the smaller ones, just one paw is strong and long enough to surround my waist and control me. One time the bright blue one came towards me carrying two tree trunks and offered me to eat the leaves. When I refused she got pretty mad and one of the other bears had to come to my rescue, usually Hot-Mo who is the most friendly of them all. Actually they are all sweet, only a bit rough.
The fur of the orange one (I call her Izz) I consider the most beautiful. She usually sits down somewhere watching me archly. When I get close to her (again no way to resist her power of attraction) she’ll stretch one of her forepaws (or should I say ‘arms’?) and pulls me towards her, growling eagerly. Her furry elbow is between my legs, pressing and shaking me against her breast. I can hear my bones crack and feel my blood boiling. Then she puts me on the ground in front of her and blows into my face as if to cool me down. But her game is not yet over. She’d lift me high, upside down and then push me against herself again, but this time with my head down between her thighs. Here it is really hot, I must say! She’d hold my head and push it backward and forward while I can hear her moaning. Suddenly it is over and she drops me. My head is totally wet while she slowly gets up and walks away behind the bushes.
Another game is that three or four of them lay on their back next to each other letting me stumble over them while they push me around with their woolly arms. Again I would almost suffocate once in a while, but I think they are careful with their sharp, long paws as they probably treat me as a baby bear.
It is not hard to recognize the leader of the group. She is huge and her dark blue fur is like an overall. That is why I call her the Overaller. About once a month she would grab me by the waist and push me between her breasts with my legs in the air. She would then also rub me between her thighs until she seems satisfied and puts me down leaving me there as a mangled finished piece of cloth while she proudly walks away as a magnificent lady.
Then there is the red one, Mo-Mas. She must recently have escaped from a circus, because she is the only one with a chain around her body. She is also a bit shy, avoiding my eyes. She likes squeezing my neck under her elbow for a short while, then lets me creep over her, until she gets me under her other elbow, giving me hardly a chance of breathing through the warm fur on her breast. Only when she feels that I am about to suffocate she would let me go.
There will always be a moment when one the ‘ladies”, I call her Lady-Mo, will come my way just to tear off all my clothes. That seems to be her standard game and I would have hated it if she hadn’t always embraced me cordially afterwards and keep me warm against her thick, but soft and furry neck. Since that had happened to me the first time I always hide some spare clothing near the entrance to the forest, to put on when I am cold and tired on my way home.
Later in the afternoon I can sometimes see them all suddenly standing quietly around me in a big circle and I feel that the attraction to all of them is balanced: I just can’t move as I am attracted in all directions and they slowly are closing in on me until I’m completely enclosed in their multicoloured wool: hot and soft and ticklish, as they all want to hold me, one after the other, very briefly. So I am passed around in this tight circle faster and faster until I am thrown up very high and they all run away. Except for the yellow one: My Favourite. She will always catch and cuddle me, and carry me all the way to a point very close to the entrance. After putting me down gently on a soft patch of moss she runs away to her mates. And I can then start looking for my spare cloths. It is strange in that forest: both extremely scary and pleasantly hot.
Wollywolly
PS. As soon as that would be possible I could attach some of the pictures that inspired me.