FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The office was a mess but as he sat and waited a vague clarity shone out of the cascading boxes of papers and scattered pens. This was an inventor's office: schematics drawn hastily on napkins, equations highlighted by coffee mug stains, and science fiction symbology scribbled into the margins of company memos. Muel liked to keep things tidy but he could see the creativity and energy his new boss put into his work. He was glad that he landed this position rather than any of the other awful internship programs around town. People of course said spurious things about the Syndicate but no one had a reputation for scientific development like the Synergists.

Muel fidgeted a bit despite his enthusiasm. He cleaned the lenses of his glasses for the fifth time and pushed his long hair back against his ears hoping the waiting would end soon. It was another eight minutes before he summoned up the indignation to turn and look out the door politely. As soon as he stood however, he was presented with a gregarious hawaiian shirt, all color and no subtlety. The pattern jiggled gently as the confusion of the near collision made the mouse and the obnoxious splash of color jostle side to side until they were both sure who was where.

"Okay. You stay right there and I'll go the other way around my desk," instructed a perfectly amused voice behind the shirt. "Sorry I'm late but I stopped buying watches after I broke the last six."

With the moment passed, Muel finally scanned the entirety of the other male taking a seat across the desk. A pleasantly plump raccoon dog with a pleasantly easy expression. Contented rather than assertively happy or ebullient. Disarming in a way but meeting his employer was still a bit too much for the murine to completely unwind so he just shook his head meekly and stammered an excuse neither of the two seemed to register completely.

"So, I'm Ralph DeMartino, PhD. But call me Ralph though. Doctor is just a credential," he explained, settling his generous hips into his chair but wincing as he accidentally drew Muel's attention to his crotch.

He stared for a long moment as the massive, obscene bulge pressed against the desk. The chair was too close and the surface too low for him to do anything but finish sitting before he could move the heavy mass of unmistakable flesh. The fabric pulled tight enough to make a perfect imprint of his balls surrounding a cock that might have looked enormous on someone else but, flanked by his testes, looked minute for him. He reached out to pull the fat press of himself off the desk and out of his way, failing to suppress a tender groan and a gasp once he inched himself back enough against the boxes and his bulge against the round crest of his belly that they could flop between his legs, safely out of their conversation.

Embarrassment barely seemed to cross his mind, he mostly seemed relieved to be rid of the temporary inconvenience. He didn't even acknowledge the whole affair as he sifted through enough papers for Muel to realize he was staring.

"Oh... I-uh... I'm Muel. Sorry I--"

"Moe? I thought it was Moo-el. Must be a typo," Ralph interrupted finally finding what he was looking for and peering over it, apparently a copy of the mouse's resume.

"No, it's right," offered Muel gently. "Just not a very common name. It's a pleasure, Mr. DeMartino."

Ralph nodded his head but scribbled on the page anyway; a note to get lost amid all the others. "Ralph. And the pleasure is all mine. Had to sacrifice a little political capital to make sure you were assigned down here in Engineering. Looked over your CV and you'll go far down here." The canine sat back in his chair, crossing his fingers against the dome of his belly. "Synergist and myself in particular believe that an intern is not a barista or a valet. You'll be doing mostly grunt work: double checking numbers, monitoring lathes, things like that. But it's technically real R&D; better than fetching my laundry. If anyone asks you to fetch laundry tell 'em I said 'Eat a chode'."

The pair laughed amiably even though Muel was absolutely sure he'd never say anything to that effect. "I'm really excited to get started, I've heard a lot about work on biofuel engines--"

"We'll get to all that," Ralph insisted in his languid way. "Right now is some free time to get all your particulars squared away."

Despite the mountain of paper, Ralph produced a tablet from his desk and tapped in a few quick keystrokes. After a second Muel had it thrust in his hands, looking down a dense web of forms and legalese. Non disclosure, liability, on and on.

Muel's big, fluffy ears drooped as he looked down over it all. "Oh right, should have expected, I guess."

"Most of it autofills. Just make sure you read the conditions. Whatever anyone says about the Syndicate is only mostly true. They'll screw you if they need to." Ralph had gone back to rummaging as he explained, a distracting sound though no more than his shirt which had a wet spot growing on one side. "Anyway, you go through those, get yourself some benefits, and I'll get one of my five a day before we get down to the lab."

The tanuki made a satisfied noise once he found what he was looking for. The whole thing was about the size of a two liter bottle but a simple cylinder constructed hastily out of black plastic. He prized it open for just long enough to see the slick material inside and make an adjustment quickly with thick fingers that belied a nimble skill for that sort of thing. Then he snapped it shut and smiled as he peeled open his obnoxious shirt.

Right under his wet spot was the tip of his dick, pulsing hard and spewing a glistening stream of clear juice. Muel might have been aghast if he wasn't so enrapt in the reveal of it. It was ruddy and wet with his musky pre, the massive girth of it seeming even more overwhelming for the fat tunnel running up the belly of it to disappear into the hooded head. Despite how high it jutted over the desk it seemed short when compared to the dark curve of his belly, the length was even undermined by just how wide the monster was.

The mouse might not have been so impressed coming across a dick like this in the internet. It was only a couple inches more each way than his own gifted equipment but for someone to just fish it out unprompted and unabashed, it seemed even more imposing. He just held into the tablet and watched as Ralph twisted the cap of his device then flipped a switch, producing a soft puttering noise and a muffled buzz, then brought an opening near the base to his cock tip, lavishing the blushing tip with slow circles.

Warmly, the canine rumbled at the feeling, using the wide too to roll his foreskin back and make sure the fat helmet under it was thickly smeared with pre. Muel bit his lip without thinking about it while his own shaft pulsed against his pants leaking a fraction as much liquid heat as his new boss. They both moaned as Ralph penetrated the tube, the slow, deliberate movement sending an empathic shiver up the intern's spine.

Ralph only seemed to notice he was being watched at that moment but didn't stop. He screwed the device back and forth around his head, gasping once despite himself. "You wanna try it?" he asked pulling his cock free and squirting his gel across the desk, staining most of the murine's resume.

Muel finally remembered he wasn't asleep and dropped the tablet into a puddle on the desk and waved his hands a bit too defensively. He failed to conjure any actual words but Ralph caught onto the subtext anyway. He shoved at the desk and waved him close as room appeared over his lap.

"No no, come here, I promise, it's a good time." He snatched out at Muel's wrist when he stood to excuse himself.

The mouse would have retreated but the grip on him was just encouraging enough to melt his guard. Before he realized it he was pulled into Ralph's lap, the crush of plush flesh behind him and hard rhythm of masculinity underneath. As the smell of lust dominated the office and crept into Muel's head, his instincts started to take root; his own subtly feminine hips slid up and down on the shaft thumping against his perineum and a breathy sigh spilled out of him to go with.

The feeling of the tanuki's breathing under him paired with the salvo of unfiltered sexuality helped Muel give himself over to the moment. He loosened his tie while Ralph unbuckled his belt, cooing at the sensation of such big hands sifting through his fur while they worked together to get him undressed.

Quickly enough, the fabric was parted so Muel's shirt hung off his shoulders and his pants were pooled around his ankles. One of Ralph's hands slid slowly against the grain of his fur to explore the sleek terrain of his muscle. The other scooped the sleeve up again and fumbled to get the mouth of it lubricated again in his pre. Then, as readily as he might have offered a handshake, the raccoon dog pressed his whirring tool to the mouse's cock head.

It was a bit too big; his cap popped in with almost no resistance from the synthetic material but he could feel it churning with firm beads. It might have looked jury-rigged but it was deeply designed. As the sleeve slipped deeper into Muel's lap he could feel the helical shape twisting around him and the subtle vacuum draw coming in waves from the far end. He thrust awkwardly into it, pulling against the heavy am on his chest, and Ralph obliged pulling it down to the root.

The canine babbled cordially about his creation, a friendly stream of words that didn't mean much while he plied the massaging tunnel to match Muel's gyrating. Between that and Ralph's own gentle humps, the sound of lathering precum spilled out of the open door while a pool of it started to spread across the office. When he registered the rhythm underneath him, the mouse ventured a bit. His tail, long and dexterous for any murine, crept into the fly of Ralph's khakis and coiled tightly around the massive balls still trapped in there.

He was surprised by the heat of them. They were more taut that he expected, having seen the way they rolled across the desk. He couldn't imagine they filled up while they were sitting there. Muel kept squeezing at them though, interrupting the friendly chat for a muted chorus of moans. Each of them twisted and pulled on each other as best they could, the pace speeding up until the mouse finally erupted. He bit his knuckle to kill the noise as his body peaked and thick gouts of his seed poured into the device. Ralph grunted, struggling to focus through the tightening vice of mouse tail and twisted the cap off his sleeve. Cum spilled back down into Muel's lap before the dog could flip his switch again but the sucking action quickly caught up, drawing the rest into the reservoir slowly expanding from dark blue to deeply-tinted white. The feeling kept the intern on edge that much longer, pumping more and more into the glossy bubble of his own cream.

Finally he was finished. Muel winced at first from the over zealous machine but Ralph pulled it free as soon as he noticed. "Hey that's pretty good!" he cheered, sealing the bubble and twisting things back in place before patting the mouse on his smooth belly. "Ed can't even make it change color on his first load."

The words swam chaotically through Muel's addled head but he came down from his high steadily enough to reply, "Who's Ed?"

"You'll meet him later. Good guy," he said, lifting Muel's drained balls out of the way so he could do the same for his own, relishing the hot sticky entrance even more than he did the first time. "But right now you need to finish your paperwork."

Ralph didn't usher the mouse out of his lap, though, didn't even stop his fingers from tickling his balls as they pass under him. He just rumbled and groaned and wriggled his legs against the broad nuts between them. Muel panted for a moment but, noticing he was still there, he resumed the pressure with his tail, milking those heavy organs deeply. Ralph held him tight once he felt the grip again, working the whirring sleeve faster and faster until with a hard grunt he finally reached his climax, too

He flipped the switch with a well practiced thumb and plunged into the root. With it held in place by the vacuum, Ralph didn't have to relinquish his intern while he twisted the cap open and flooded the bubble with a massive deluge of his own semen. It outsized Muel's almost instantly, bubbling as the hard blasts bounced against the walls of their container, wobbling it back and forth while the gyre of thick batter made visible currents around the increasingly translucent globe of sticky heat. He rocked his hips hard as he finished unloading himself, gallons of his hot goo sloshing their way across the floor until the balloon was shadowed by the desk and the cand could relax, dribbling the last of it into the still massaging whirl of beads and suction.

Muel had caught his breath by then but he was still astonished by the beanbag sized glob sitting on the floor while Ralph pinched closed the seal and shut off the device before sliding it free. He hadn't met someone who actually could cum like that. There were videos on the internet sure, but they were all pretty stage or shitty webcams. This was something else entirely. The idea of it only excited him more. His tender rod standing up again but he flushed as he felt Ralph ease him by the hips toward his own chair. Clumsily he gathered up his shirt and his pants, the latter stained with precum, and rushed to get dressed. But Ralph waved his hand dismissively and slopped his own shaft across his thigh and fished a phone out of his pocket.

After a quick beat, the line was answered by a busy sounding young woman on the speaker. "You need a clean up, Ralph?"

"Yeah it's just precum in my office though. No big deal, just don't wanna forget again."

It was all very alien but Ralph nudged the tablet back at him and smiled innocently. The mouse almost felt disappointed in himself for being confused. Still, he set himself down, leaving his erection poking out of his own pants and started into the forms. Maybe he just needed to think of this place like a home away from home. His boss obviously did. That was too much for Muel at the moment, reflexively he crossed his legs and hid his girthy tool between them while he typed in his info. But eventually.