Title: That Sort of Bear
Summary:Summary: Sam explores Pooh's kinky side.
Notes: Challenge response. That's really the only plausible explanation for this story
That Sort of Bear by Nomi
I wasn't going to ask. Really I wasn't. I was in no way going to ask about the tableau set forth on Sam's desk.
I wasn't really up for it - it had been a long day, and I had just come back to the West Wing from a meeting with Representative Laszlo. His resistance to any of my proposals was frustrating, and I really just wanted to get Sam, go home, and relax.
But what can you be expected to do when presented with the sight of a stuffed Winnie the Pooh restrained spread-eagle with duct tape? And when the bear is under the watchful gaze of a stuffed Rabbit standing over Pooh holding a tiny riding crop? It was a sight that any sane human being would have trouble making sense of. So against my better judgment, I asked.
"Yeah, J?" my beloved mumbled distractedly as he fit a tiny set of fuck-me pants onto Piglet.
"What...uh...What the fuck?!?"
"Oh, this?" He continued to dress the various animals on his desk. I had to turn away from the image of Tigger in fishnets...my brain just didn't want to go there. No way. No how.
"Yeah," I said. "That."
"Well, J," Sam said, "remember when we were lying in bed and you rolled over onto the animal cracker crumbs? Remember how you said that if I wanted to explore any form of bestiality, I'd have to do it on my own time? Well..." Sam grinned.
"You _do_ realize that I was joking, yes?"
"Yeah," Sam said, "but I wanted to figure out..."
"Yes?" I asked, already cringing over the conclusion of Sam's statement.
"I wanted to find out if Pooh really was _that_ sort of bear."
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