The twang of the honky-tonk guitar vied for dominance over the thick smoke of the bar. Saturday night, The Kodiak Bar and Grill was bustling - it was the only place open in the town of just under a thousand people, the dance floor was full.

Loon Lake was a mill town in the high North of BC, served by the government sawmill. The main street consisted of strip malls, gas stations, garages and a wreckers yard. Canadian Tire vied with Home Depot for the staple business of small-town living, each on opposite ends of the drag. Fast food restaurants squatted loudly on the corners, filled with squalling families and the youth not yet allowed in the main social center of the town - Kodiak's.

A recent graduate of journalism, twenty-year old Jules sat at the bar near the door - half exhausted and half-excited by her new life, the first time out on her own. She'd arrived in town a week ago, the newest employee at "The Call" , the towns newspaper. The editor - "Call me Ed" Redfern, ran a one-man shop, but had recently decided he needed some fresh blood, in hopes of fostering a semi-retirement. Jules was to cover the local news and fluff pieces, leaving the sports and editorials to Ed. He had given her the week to suss out the town and get settled, meet the locals. So far Jules had visited the fire and police departments, the Forestry office, the mill and City Hall, between that and getting herself set up in a new apartment, her new life, she'd found Saturday night had arrived suddenly, springing upon her as if in ambush. The one place left to visit was Kodiaks, and now here she was, running on the second wind of anticipation. Tired as she was, she could afford a late night. She had Sunday off.

Jules was bookish, quietly pretty, but had an intense look about her, accentuated by thick dark-rimmed glasses. Her ashy blonde hair was thick and fell past her collarbone, slightly wavy and shiny - it was her most striking feature. At 4'10" Jules was no larger than some twelve year olds, but her subtle curves gave away her maturity. Jules had always looked up at the world, and had developed a tightly packed energy in her core, her defense against insignificance. People tended to dismiss her, equating her size to her age, even talked down to her as if she were a child. It was frustrating, but the look of shock in their faces when she used her intelligence on them was priceless. She liked to wear bright colors; tonight she topped off her bluejeans with a ruby red blouse, fitted and as bright as a hummingbird's jeweled breast.

Adopted, she'd always felt out of place - she'd felt no connection with her family. Jules felt she was a token, a symbol of her adoptive parent's altruism and good will. They had been kind to her in a distant way, but the gulf between them grew exponentially after she'd graduated. They'd raised her in Vancouver, one of the prettiest cities in the world, but to Jules it felt confining, filled with ugly sights and sounds, foul smells and stagnant people. She'd always longed for green spaces, for the sounds of crashing brush and the long lonely song of a wolf at moonlight. The job posting at Loon Lake had seemed like a dream come true - deep in the wilderness, far North. She understood there was wildlife in the surrounding forest), bears in particular, and had spend a terrific afternoon with the rangers from the government office, observing and recording the black bear population via helicopter. Jules loved bears, and the ranger had promised her that if she stayed around long enough, there were grizzlies to be seen.

Here, in the Kodiak, was an equally plentiful diversity of human wildlife. The main population consisted of many-times descendants of European immigrants, and recent ones too. Strong Slavic influences in cheekbones and blue eyes. Flatter, rounded faces of the Haida Indian dominated smaller groups, mixed with their Inuit cousins. There were lifestyle divisions as well, the men from the mill, their women, the commercial district and service industry, young men and women and veteran citizens and all ages in between. The one thing they had in common was the need for social intercourse, and the Kodiak was the only game in town.

A dark hulk of a man sat spread in front of the massive red granite hearth. His hair was black, the firelight highlighting it red. His temples were faintly silvered, and the small patches of skin on his cheeks were tan and ruddy. He drank from a pint glass of dark beer and seemed to brood in the flickering light. He was as big as a bear, with a luxuriant beard flowing from below darkbright blue eyes. His physical power seemed to radiate off him, and Jules craved to bask in it, feed off it. She was tired physically, and she was hungry. Needing the comfort of a body against hers, panting in repletion. She'd had a few boyfriends, enjoyed a couple of them sexually, but had more appreciated the feeling of intimacy, of safety, the sweet respite from the day that the afterglow offered. She liked to cuddle before sleep.

Jules felt reckless, like she had nothing to lose, but still cautious, she ordered a shot of whiskey. She wanted its burn to fuel her courage. While she waited she fixed her gaze on him, willing him to look at her, to see her looking at him, admiring him. His long, thick legs stretched from under a small table. He wore a soft blue denim shirt, rolled to the elbows, exposing thick black hair on his arms and hands. His fingers were long, as were the nails, and rectangular, noticeably narrow. They looked almost like claws. Jules found this strangely exciting, imagining the sensations those nails would provide. She paid the bartender and turned back to find him looking at her. She smiled, invitingly, flirtatiously, before tilting back the thick cheap tumbler of amber fire. She felt it burn down her throat deliciously, warming her as much as the sight of his thick lips, almost buried in his beard.

He continued to watch her, following her movements with his eyes only. He did not move, he did not smile, but still Jules felt compelled. She slipped off the barstool and walked slowly to him, her shoulders thrown back. She displayed herself for him, wanting him to see her, all of her, to want her, stopping just in front of him, turned to one side. Just then she felt a push from behind, and she toppled right into him. She hit him with a solid thud, smashing her nose on his shoulder. This was followed by a splash on her head, down her back, accompanied by the strong smell of beer. He caught her around the waist, twisting her hips so she sat in his lap.

Jules was disoriented, and dumbstruck for a moment, it happened so fast. From siren to simpleton in six seconds. Suddenly her brain registered the pain in her nose and she crumpled, pulling her hands to her face. She moaned. Silently he swabbed at her with a bar towel that had magically appeared, mopping up the yeasty droplets while he cradled her in his other arm. His hand gripped her shoulder, large and warm. Jules shook her head and came to her senses, and looked up. Craned her neck. He looked stern, thick black brows drawn, Jules was startled.

"Hi there. I'm Jules." It was the only thing she could think of to say.

"Dan. Are you well?" His voice rumbled a register lower she'd ever heard from any man before.

Jules was flustered. "Um - yeah". She touched her nose and winced, a tiny whimper escaped her lips. "Er - no."

Dan dropped the used towel on the table and took her chin into his palm, lifting it, staring intently at her. Jules' eyes locked on his, and inexplicably she felt her eyes fill with tears. Yes, her nose hurt, but it wasn't permanently damaged. You're a big girl now, suck it up! One eye spilled over and she watched him track it, he bent over her stopping just short of her face and exhaled. He gently pulled her to his lips, kissing the tear into oblivion. He kissed her nose, then sat back in the chair, leaning her against him. He enfolded her in his arms, patient.

Jules began to squirm, embarrassed, acutely aware of her beer-soaked hair and ruined blouse. Hot tears rose again, this time of shame. She protested, squirming. "Let me go, I'm a mess. Oh, geez, look at my hair." He held her firm, then bent over again, this time pressing his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.

"Smells good. Good for it. Make it shine." He ran a hand over it, smoothing it down. "Goldilocks." A small chuckle rolled from his chest and he smiled, it was an endearment. "Better now?" he asked, wiping away another tear. "Pretty Goldy."

Jules abruptly remembered why she was here in the first place, and her pain melted as she warmed all over. She enjoyed being held by this - absolutely huge - man, feeling safe in his arms, he was so powerful, but held her a gently as a baby bird.

Oh god, yes - this is what I want. Dan seemed to sense the change in her mood and tightened his embrace imperceptibly, smiling wider. Jules' eyes dilated, her nose taking in the smell of wood shavings and firesmoke, dark beer.

"Yes, I am, thank you." She reached way up, pushing her bottom up with her legs, locking her hands around his neck. She smiled a tentatively saucy smile. "So if I'm Goldilocks, you are most definitely a bear, Dan. Poppa Bear!"

"A dancing bear." He rumbled. The band had struck up a waltz, and the dance floor filled. He put both hands around her waist, encircling it with his fingers. He lifted her off his lap, placing her on her feet and stood up. Dan took her hand, smiling down at her. "Coming?"

Jules was flabbergasted as she looked up, farther up than she'd ever done, and sputtered, "Oh my GOD! You are the biggest man I have ever seen in my life!" The words burst from her, much louder than she had intended, before she could stop them. This time Dan threw his head back and laughed.

"Yes, I am. Dance with me, Goldilocks." He drew her into the crowd and pressed her against him, swaying to the music.

She turned her head to rest on his chest, putting her hands against him for support. His paw-like hands roamed, stroking her hair, running over her shoulders, he bent his body over and around hers as they danced. A deep hum came from him, surprisingly in-tune with the music, Jules pressed herself even closer to feel it vibrate through her. The excitement of the fall ebbed from her, replaced by the warmth of desire; she felt Dan respond to every move, every sigh and his strokes grew firmer, bolder.

He bent down and cupped her ass, curling his fingers between her legs and smoothly slid her up his body, until her head rested under his chin. She nuzzled his beard, sighing contentedly as she rubbed her face against its silkiness. Dan continued to rock her with the music, and his fingers rippled slightly, softly on the jeans tight across the tender insides of her thighs. Jules moaned quietly, with need.

The song ended, Dan led Jules back to their table. Jules fell naturally in his lap, not wanting to let go of him. His beer was only barely touched, he signaled the waitress and pointed at Jules. Amazingly quickly for a bustling night, the waitress came back, another shot of whiskey on her tray. Jules ducked her head, a little embarrassed again.

"Such a strong drink for such a tiny little thing." said Dan. Jules heard a note of basso amusement and she stiffened, grabbing the shot glass. She shot it back, quickly, wanting to be rid of it. She only blinked a couple of times as the sting of the whiskey hit her mashed sinuses. This caused Dan to roar again, it rose above the noise of the bar, becoming quieter for a second before resuming again. He picked up his pint and drained it, a little beer spilling down his beard. Jules licked it off him, sitting back and licking her lips at him, her eyes gleaming. Dan's nostrils flared while he watched her tongue play over her lips.

"Do you want to come to my house in the woods, Goldy?" Jules could only nod, but it was all it took. He rose again suddenly, slipping her off his lap. Once again he took her hand and led her out the rough-hewn doors. Just outside three motorcycles were lined up. Dan gestured to the first one.

"I don't have a helmet, but I'll get you one." he promised. "Don't worry, you are safe with me."

Jules hesitated, unsure. Dan straddled the bike and held out his hand to her. "Come, girl, I'm as hungry as you are."

There was no more indecision. Jules heard the hunger in his voice and it lit her nerves on fire. She scrambled up on the seat behind him, Dan brought the motor to roaring life and they pulled out of the Kodiak's lot.

The miles passed, ticking like seconds in the bright moonlight. The Harley growled with a deep, powerful drone and the seat vibrated thrillingly through her thighs, her sex pulsing in sympathy. She perched like a limpet, pressed against Dan's broad back, her breath came fast and light. Just then the Harley dipped sharply to the right and Jules screamed - short and sharp, in surprise. She felt rather than heard the deep rumble of amusement, as her arms tightened around Dan's barrel chest. She could not reach all the way around They passed a small brook and he cut the motor, pulling into a small clearing. The brush rose around it, the faint smell of sun on the wildflowers scented the air.

Jules slipped off the bike, her legs wobbly. Dan did too, slipping off the cap of his helmet. His hair sprang free, and he shook it out, the moonlight silvering the tips. The crickets seemed to be a thunderous chorus in the otherwise silent night, now free of the Harley's roar. He hung the lid on the handlebar and turned to Jules. He shed his jacket, letting it drop to the ground. He was so tall, backlit by the moon, and she heard his breathing, deep panting, maybe exertion from the ride.

Dan grabbed her elbows. "Yes?" he demanded. The question radiated from the strength held in-check by his body and glowed from underneath the darkened hood over his brow. Jules trembled, unsure if she was more elated than frightened. The full moon filled her with its glowing energy, stirring the blissful giddiness of the alcohol and the frame-rattling massage of the ride to this place. A reckless desire to be taken overcame her, and when she recalled his oath of her safety. Irrationally, she believed him. She reached up high to put her arms around his neck and let her head fall back, exposing the vulnerable column of her neck.

Jules' skin glowed pearly in the moonlight as he bent to embrace her. Dan's thick, furry arms encircled her, picking her up so her face met his; her legs spread automatically and hugged his waist. He rubbed his nose in the nape of her neck, sniffing deeply and tongue licking, lapping at her. He was almost rough; his teeth came together and gnashed gently on her skin, the edges scraping with the sharp thrill of the wild. She felt his nostrils flare against her, heard his breath blasting from them. She had never experienced this before, this greedy and almost ferocious inhaling, tasting of her- his lush beard rubbed on her skin and his lips inflamed her. She was acutely aware of how much larger his face was than hers, she moaned as his teeth touched her skin.

His lips were wet, smacking and slurping. His deep panting, his overwhelming demand of his lust shook her. She pushed at his broad shoulders, arching her back - the beefy paws of his hands slid down to grab her quivering ass, she reached down suddenly and pulled her shirt over her head, throwing it back into the brush. Immediately Dan shifted his weight back, pushing up on her bottom and pulling her to arch her chest over his head. She fell over him and he nursed her breasts, tiny but full, with the same ardor as he had her neck, her nipples sprang to hard points under the roughness of his long, pointed tongue. Dan opened his mouth wide, wrapping his lips around and engulfing her entire breast. His tongue massaged her. She could only bear this so long before she pulled back again, pulling at his shirt. She mewled in frustration when her passion made her clumsy, fingers clutching at the fabric, tugging.

Dan's laughter rumbled between them. The soft denim seemed to swell from within and it strained at its snaps. Dan put his hand in his collar and smoothly pulled it open. He shrugged it off, one arm at a time, easily shifting her weight from the cradle of one arm, then the other. She marveled at the thickness of the hair on his forearms, his knuckles, thinning out at his elbows leaving him bare to his shoulders, where it covered the tops of them, grown down from his thick beard. The hair on his head seemed thicker, too, flowing down to fan out over his back, where it thinned out to silky fine thick fuzz down his torso.

Jules wriggled against him, luxuriating in his warmth and softness, in contrast to the cool September air. Holding her around the waist, he slipped his other hand under the waistband of her jeans and popped them open, the depth of his hand filling her pants and spreading the zipper. She felt the nails of his fingertips gently scrape her cheeks, spreading and kneading them rhythmically. Dan rippled his abs in a liquid wave, his hips pumped. Jules gripped tighter with her legs, her thighs feeling dense muscle slide under his skin. There was pressure between her legs; Jules squirmed on Dan's erection, amazed that he still stood, holding her as if she were weightless.

Dan returned to devouring her face. He licked, his tongue curling around her eyes, tasting the salt there. He hiked her up in his arms again, laying her torso against his arm. He peeled off her jeans in a long smooth movement, her runners popping off as the jeans passed over her ankles. Part of Jules' mind screamed, No, not here! Help! only to be obliterated by the rising waverush of need surging though her. Dan enveloped her body with his, pressed her against the broad trunk of him; she writhed on him, skin stroked sensitive by the fur covering him. Fine curls on his arms and legs, it grew thicker on his chest, his face, and generously on his face and in between the columns of his legs. She hadn't noticed him taking off his jeans.

Jules' legs wrapped back around Dan and the thick plum of his cock filled the shallow cavern of her lips, already warm and moist with excitement. He prodded her with it - once, twice; then squeezed his hands down on her ass to grind her clit on its broad length. He pumped his hips and Jules cried out as the slick, bumpy friction of thick full veins rumbled on her clit. Jules knew nothing but she was coming, fiercely, any second - her nerves lit up as if neon. Dan kept pumping, mashing her against him, panting with quiet, steady grunts. Every nerve in Jules' body contracted at once and her first orgasm struck like a thunderbolt, she screamed her release for the very first time.

Dan growled with laughter and lifted her up, high, plunging her unerringly down on his cock. Jules felt sweetly tenderized, stretched and speared on his driving cock, feeling as if his hips were a rolling hinge, back and forth. Dan's grunts got louder, longer, inhaling deep gouts of breath in between. Jules had never expected anything like this, so powerful was the force of his lovemaking, and how strongly she responded to him, moved her. The walls of her pussy stretched to accommodate him as they'd never been before, aching and awakening new tingling sensations. His cock was a throbbing, invading heat; she melted on him, conscious mind insensenate.

Softness over hardness, gripping ass and hair and back, hot filling strength and power plunging over and over into her burning pool. Blasts of breath, hot, dry, grunting long and cries pealing, smack of wet skin, skin against skin. Bringing her down on him again and hard and urgent, unabandoned, he filled her hard, inexorable, his cock jerked inside her and shook her entirely. Dan brought her again, screaming delightedly in conclusion. Jules slumped on him, she lost control of her flailing limbs. Once again Dan seemed to swell and a dim corner of Jules' mind registered a different sensation, More hair?

Dan threw his head back, opening his mouth wide, crushing Jules' hips to his. He roared, long and wildly, silencing the crickets and the woods-music. Time seemed to have stopped. Jules reared back, riding his charge, the mighty beat of his gushing release bringing her once more, blinded by ecstasy. Once more she fell against him, quivering, trickles tickling down the insides of her thighs.

Slowly, their breath slowed, synchronizing to each other. An unseen conductor raised his baton and nightmusic swelled around them. Dan released his hold on Jules' ass, letting her slide down his length. His cock slipped out of her, she felt its loss keenly, and whimpered her disappointment.

"Come, Goldy, get dressed. We will go back to the den."

Den? the word seemed strange to Jules, but just then she didn't care. While her shoes and jeans were fairly close, she couldn't find her shirt. She was stupefied with pleasure, battered with satisfaction, wanting nothing more to crawl back into his arms in a nice soft place, and sleep. She gave up looking for it, slipping on her jeans and sneakers. When she turned back to Dan, she noticed a flash of red from one of his coat pockets. Somehow, he seemed smaller, now that he was dressed, less intimidating, less wild, yet he still blocked the moon as he towered over her. He hadn't done up his shirt and Jules moved to cuddle against him again, shivering a little now.

Dan stopped her, and set her on the cycle instead, throwing his leg over behind her. She was small enough to fit inside the curve of his torso, his coat and shirt open around her. Jules leaned gratefully against him, soaking up his warmth. He smelled strongly of their sex and heat poured from the fur covering the solid flesh of his broad chest. Dan kicked the bike to life; its vibrations massaged Jules to a sweet dreamy doze.

Some time later she felt the motor cut out, she was suddenly cold as Dan's warmth left her. The shock of the cool air against her bare torso was almost enough to wake her fully, except for Dan plucking her off the bike and cradling her to his chest again, where she snuggled in sleepy satisfaction. She barely registered the sounds around her, only feeling vague sensations of movement, and sounds distorted by sleep, and then finally, wonderfully, the softness blankets and pillows and Dan.