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  BEARLY EVEN HUMAN

  A Romantic Short Story

  by Chalice Black

  Copyright 2014 by Chalice Black

  Cover Design by Chalice Black

  © Depositphotos.com/artofphoto

  Individuals pictured on the cover are models and used for illustrative purposes only.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. All names, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters represented are consenting adults over the age of eighteen and not blood related. Please do not reproduce this work illegally.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Hell no! I like to keep my food where it belongs--in my stomach, thank you very much!" Turns out the carnival is a lot less fun when you're a third wheel. My friends Jerry and Janet are beckoning me to join them on Grizzly Fever, a shoddy looking wooden coaster with far too many loops and drops for my taste. I applaud them for their faith in the craftsmanship of minimum wage laborers who maintain the thing in the dead heat of summer, but I'll keep my feet on the ground.

  Besides, I am far more interested in taking in the sights and smells of this bustling place than tempting fate for a bit of thrill. And who could forget the most important thing of all--the food. After all, that's really the best part of any good carnival. Although I have to say, I am quite proud of myself for not overindulging as I often do. This time I decided to make a game of restraint. I only sampled the chocolate dipped cheesecake and fried haddock that Jerry and Janet bought--a lethal combination that would normally have my stomach churning by now. But exercising discipline doesn't mean I can't enjoy all the tantalizing smells on offer.

  I've cut back a lot lately, trying to maintain my figure--my curvy girl figure that is. I'm not obese by any means, but you could say I have it going on in the right places. I may be big, but I'm still beautiful. But I am definitely a self-conscious eater. Even at a carnival where I'm supposed to be having fun, it's not easy for me to just go whole hog. I never understood how some girls can eat whatever they feel like, whenever they feel like, and not even put on a single pound. But I'm not jealous--it just means I have to maintain a higher level of self-control. I make sure to work out at least three times a week, but I definitely miss some days here and there. I'm not perfect, but I'm always working to improve.

  And I still get plenty of attention from the guys. Too bad most of them are total douchebags. That's pretty much the reason I'm here tagging along with my two friends who can't go five minutes without making out in front of me. They just got together two weeks ago, so anyone else around them is pretty much non-existent. Janet has been my best friend for more than two decades now, so I'm glad to see her happy. Too bad I'm still a virgin.

  After making the rounds and resisting enough temptation, I decide to try my hand at one of the games. I was becoming utterly bored waiting for those two lovebirds, so I figured--why not? I know they're a total scam, but I won't let that stop me from letting myself waste a little money for a bit of entertainment. I found myself at the game where you have to knock the three stacked bottles off a pillar with one ball. I used to play on the girl's softball team in college, and I have a pretty good arm because of it. So I figured it was my best shot.

  "Oooh, so close!" Says the pimple-faced teenager running the con. One of the bottles rolls to the end and teeters on the very edge. They had put up a Styrofoam buffer around the perimeter to make the odds even more in their favor. Since when did they start doing that?

  "You've got the right idea--here, let me show you," says a tall man leaning in next to me. His bulky chest grazes my belly as he squeezes himself in the space between me and some adorable old lady who couldn't even throw it to the pillar. An aromatic scent fills the air--sweet, almost like honey. He smells like heaven. His hair is styled and he has sexy stubble along his jawline. The guy is totally ripped. His thick bicep bulges when he pulls back for the pitch.

  He hurls the ball straight, and it connects with explosive power. The bottles erupt with a reverberating clang when he hits them dead center, sending them flying in three separate directions. One of them hits the backdrop with enough force to leave a giant crack in the wood. The teenage kid stares blankly, mouth agape. It was almost superhuman.

  "You... win?" he shakes his head, "I mean--we have a winner!" He turns to ring the big brass bell, and several people stop in their tracks to see what all the clanging is about.

  "Which one do you want?" The burly man gives me a gentle nudge, looking up at the array of prizes hung from the booth's ceiling. He's asking me?

  "But--you won, not me..." My cheeks are going flush.

  "Don't worry, I won it for you." Did he really? The stuffed cartoon characters were bigger than me.

  "Umm... I guess--I'll take the panda bear one." The teenager gets up on a ladder to get it down for me.

  "Good choice," he says, smiling at me. "That's the one I would have picked. That's a classic." The truth is, I had never seen the cartoon before. The kid hands me the giant thing, and I have to hold its giant head with two hands. I wonder how the hell I am going to carry this thing home with me.

  "Well, I'm not sure how to thank you..." We make eye contact for a brief moment, and I can't help but avert my eyes. "That was awfully generous of you."

  "Maybe you could come check out my shop." His arm extends over my shoulder to point behind me, toward a large pointed tent with vertical red and blue stripes. "It's just over there." Things suddenly made a lot more sense. This guy probably just wanted me to buy something from him. Typical that I would meet a hunk like him and all he wants is money.

  "Okay, I'll--I'll be sure to check it out," I nod quickly.

  "I'd love it if you did." He smiles, placing a hand gently on the side of my arm. It feels warm and soft on my skin. Electric tingles shoot up my spine, making the hair at the back of my neck stands on end. He looks sincere enough. I guess it wouldn't hurt to see what he's got in there. The place looks interesting enough, and it definitely stands out.

  I can't help looking down at my feet shuffling in place. The man's touch had stirred such excitement in me--I must look so nervous.

  "Can I leave this here to pick up later?" The teenage kid came over to me to take the prize, keeping his eyes fixed on the man, looking almost afraid. The giant panda head blocks his view for a moment when I hand it to him.

  "Alright, I guess we should walk--" But just like that, my dream guy had vanished. I looked behind, expecting to see him making his way to the tent, but he was nowhere in sight. I never even saw what direction he took off in. I turn toward the scrawny kid and cock my head as if to ask, "Where the hell?" But he just shrugs, looking just as clueless.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A black space between two cloth flaps serves as the entrance to the tent. I insert a hand into the darkness to peel back one end and step inside. A flare of candlelight illuminates the paleness of my skin. The air is full of the same sweetness I smelled on the tall man. It was strong enough to linger on him even in this sweltering heat.

  There are candles set all over the room like beacons between the dark spaces. Like stars between the vastness of space. Some are set atop old books and wooden tables chipped on the edges, while others sit on small glass jars of glowing yellow and brown. The polished glass containers glisten, almost spa
rkling in the dancing red lights.

  I walk over to one of the jars set alone atop a purple cloth with golden embroidery. The jar lid is twisted loose, as if someone had just opened it and left it there. I pick up the jar and hold it over my head, tilting my neck and peering through the bottom to examine the contents. It was an unusual dark amber color, quite unlike any of the others. The viscous stuff leaves a thick trail clinging to the sides of the glass as it turns in my hand. I remove the loose lid and hold my nose over the opening. All this stuff is... honey?

  "You're welcome to try it." Says a deep, startling voice. The small jar fumbles about in my clumsy hands, but I manage catch it in the air and avoid disaster. The silhouette of a tall figure enters through the portal, standing between the brilliant light of summer and this dim, fascinating place.

  "Oh--what is..." I start to ask, squinting at the blinding sun coming into the tent while holding up the jar between a thumb and two fingers. The man steps into the shop and the cloth door is swept closed behind him. The candlelight is once again the only source of illumination in this confined space.

  "That one's sourweed."

  "Is it--"

  "Sour?" He chuckles a little. "No, definitely not. Go on, have a taste."

  "I love your shop! Where in the world did you get all these... honeys?"

  "All over, actually. I'm afraid I can never stay in one place for very long. A bit of a nomad, really." He directs my attention to a tattered, yellow stained map on the wall, littered in red marker of the places he'd been. He really has been everywhere. And yet he looks so young--no more than his mid-twenties. But his features are telling--refined and distinguished, of a man who has seen the world. And probably bedded women on every continent, too.

  "I guess you could say I'm something of a honey connoisseur..." His full frame glasses added an air of sophistication. The last man on Earth I would expect to see hustling a carnival. I would imagine having more luck running into someone like him if I were lost in a deep labyrinth of some ancient ruin I can't pronounce, navigating my way through endless twists and turns with nothing but a fading torch. Then I'd turn a corner and he'd be there, searching for the locally fabled jar of honey with his crew of natives, asking me what the hell I was doing down there.

  Lost in thought, amusing myself with ridiculous imagination, I didn't even notice him walking over to me. He extends a hand to say,

  "Turns out the two go hand in hand. My name is Matthias."

  "Kather--I mean, Kat." His handshake is warm and firm. He brings his other hand to clasp the back of my mine.

  "Welcome to my shop, Kat. It means a lot that you would come and see it." There is sincerity in his eyes. Somehow, it really did mean something to him. "You certainly picked a good one there. You really must try it." He nods at the jar I'm still holding up awkwardly in the other hand, as if I hadn't almost spilled the whole thing.

  When he releases my hand, I hover my index finger over the opening. "Can I just--"

  He nods again, urging me to go ahead, so I submerge the finger into the goo. The thick stuff clings to itself, drawing a thin string that stretches as I pull away. I bring a small dollop of it to my puffed lips as Matthias watches with deep interest. His lips seem to mimic mine subconsciously, eager for me to taste. I would feel so awful to disappoint those eyes. I wrap my lips around the finger and lick with the tip of my tongue, never breaking eye contact. My eyelids drop as I suck on the finger, enjoying the sensational flavor.

  "Mmmm..." The honey excites every taste bud, sending shivers down my spine. I can't help but shudder at the intense sweetness of it. It was perfection. The kind of thing that'd be worth traveling the world just to taste more of.

  "I thought you'd like that one," he beams. Then his eyes travel from my puckered lips, downward until they're resting on my chest. My arms squeeze tight around my sides, hands clenched into fists at my waist as I shake from giddiness and pleasure. My tits bounce behind my low cut blouse. Matthias' lips part slightly; his tongue skims across his upper lip. My legs shift in place, feeling the sogginess between my thighs as Matthias undresses me with those dark brown eyes.

  "Did you know that a single jar of honey will take the lives of over twenty thousand bees?" He asks. I shake my head a little, trying to bring my thoughts back to the conversation. "They work tirelessly until they perish, always making honey just to serve their queen. Tasting honey is like tasting the fruits of that labor. The sweetness of eternal devotion." Matthias turns from me, looking down. "But humans don't respect the work of honeybees anymore..." Humans? An odd choice of words indeed. Surely he meant people.

  "I'm wondering if you might be able to help with something..." His gaze moves like a laser beam back up to my face.

  "H--Help you?" My voice trembles. What could he possibly need my help with?

  "I'm thinking of starting my own brand. I would love if you could taste it for me..." He rests a hand on my shoulder, holding me frozen in place with a penetrating stare. "But I would need your most honest opinion." I bite my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "Do you think you can do that for me, Kat?"

  "Y--yes! Absolutely--I mean, I don't know if I can be much help, but--"

  "I think your opinion will be most helpful." Why would he care so much about my opinion? I don't know the first thing about honey. "Might you... accompany me in the back room?" He turns to another cloth door at the back of the tent, tied shut by a bit of rope. I give a gentle nod. He smiles and moves toward the door.

  "Please, wait here a moment. I need to do a bit of cleaning up first. I'm afraid I get a bit carried away in there sometimes..." He makes his way to the back, fumbles with the rope a moment, then disappears inside.

  I decide to sample from some of the other jars while I wait, trying a bit of one labeled tulip poplar. The taste is quite different from the first--it reminds me of candy apples in autumn. I never imagined that such a world of flavors could exist in something so simple as honey.

  Then my head jerks toward the back room when I hear a crash and the shattering of glass.

  "M--Matthias? Are you--okay?" I hear a loud grunt from Matthias--he sounds like he could be in pain. I take a few timid steps toward the back of the tent. He is making all sorts of bizarre noises.

  "I--I'm coming in!" I peel back the cloth door slowly. Matthias is huffing and groaning--his voice sounds suddenly much deeper. What on earth is going on in there? I work up a bit of courage and throw myself into the darkness. It's a much smaller room, lit by a single antique lantern atop a worktable. There are shelves stacked high with large honey pots and chunks of honeycomb. The floor is littered in shards of glass and sticky with pools of honey.

  I scream when I finally see it in the blackness-- the giant, furry butt of a grizzly bear! Its face is buried in a tipped over pot, lapping at the honey inside. Oh my god. Did this thing just eat Matthias?

  The bear lifts its head and turns toward me. Its eyes go wide; its long tongue licking around the thick honey dripping from its chin. Then it lunges toward me in a sudden burst of speed. I scream again, completely paralyzed. Every instinct tells me to run away, to get out. But my body won't budge. I squint hard, accepting my fate. Soon I'll be joining Matthias in the belly of this beast.

  CHAPTER THREE

  But instead of a bear mauling my face, I feel the gentle warmth of a hand on my cheek.

  "Kat--it's okay." I open my eyes, hesitating at first. But there is Matthias, towering over me, looking just as he did. The bear seems to have vanished. "I'm sorry you had to see that side of me, Kat. I didn't mean for you to--"

  "What on earth do you mean? Are you saying that--that you--" I shake my head in disbelief. "What are you?"

  He swoops past me, brushing across my belly with the firmness of his abdomen in the tight space between us. The man is hard as rock. Matthias locks the door again by tying a knot in the rope

  "I'd appreciate you not telling anyone about what you've seen here. I would hate to have to move again so soon." I no
d in silent understanding. Matthias steps toward me, leaving only inches between us. He lunges forward with one arm jetting toward me and I jump, startled. "Ah, here it is..." His arm crosses over my head to grab an open jar from the wooden shelf above me.

  "You know the best thing about honey... it never goes bad," he says casually. Well, he is certainly good at changing the subject. The fluorescent orange honey in the jar is peculiar enough to distract from the question at hand. He dips a finger inside and scoops a thick glob of the stuff, bringing it level with my mouth.

  "Tell me what you think..." But as he brings it to my lips, a bit dribbles off his finger and falls to my chest. I giggle and squirm in place as it tickles and rolls down my breast. Matthias' attention is now fixed on the bead of honey trickling between my cleavage, licking around his lips.

  I tug slightly at the cut of my blouse with one finger, saying, "Oh, no! Now I'm all sticky..." My tongue darts to the corner of my upper lip.

  I grab Matthias by the wrist to plunge his finger into my mouth and my eyelids flutter. My lips suck wildly on his finger while I swirl my tongue in the sweetness of the honey. The taste is phenomenal.

  Matthias' eyes burn with fiery lust. He wraps his arm around my corpulent body and pulls me in close. His mouth slurps on my breast, lapping at the honey with the flat of his tongue. Matthias moans as I hold his head hard against me, burying his face in my tits. He takes a fierce hold of my bra and pulls down hard enough to rip the front of my blouse. My tits jiggle free and Matthias dives his mouth onto one of my nipples. He takes a loose grip around my breast, stuffing as much of it as he can into his mouth while flicking his tongue all around the areola.

  I brush my fingers through his dark hair as he moves to the other breast. He nibbles gently on the nipple with his wet lips, darting his tongue between them. I grab hold of the hem of his shirt while he's bent over, smothering himself between my tits. I lift it off of him and stand in awe of his magnificent body, teeming with virility. He pulls me in against the hardness of his rippling pecs and our lips connect in a passionate kiss. My back arches as he holds me from behind; my wide thigh lifts in the air and my leg wraps around his.