FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_Shakily, you bring your hands to the band of his briefs and start to work them down. They're in the process of tenting by the time you've gone far enough to expose the warm meat hidden inside. You sniff deeply of it and his crotch fur and find your lingering doubts drifting away, replaced by a sleepy arousal. You feel with growing sureness that your place is right here, with his beautiful member as your pillow. Then you sniff again... it seems you could just keep breathing him in like this forever. _

"Told you you'd like my birthday suit," he says.

_Hearing this, you renew your efforts to free him of his undergarment. The hand, which has been cupping your head, returns to its position behind his own. _

You reveal his goods enough to find that the shaft has gone granite hard. You're salivating as you crawl up toward it, its foreskin snug around the glans and showing off just how girthy he has grown. His monstrous handpaws look big enough to wrap around it, but your own hands aren't more than two thirds the size of his own now.. and those balls, so hot and firm against the fabric you've tugged down along them.

"Like what you see?" he coos to you, before reaching again and giving your head a pet.

Dazed, you pant like a dog under a blistering heat. Another sniff reminds you of the importance of service, your place in life being to take care of your big werewolf stud and serve him in any way he deems fitting.

Soon your hands are continuing their trembling, tight-against-the-fur dance of working those undies down his thighs, past his knees... and eventually down and off those adorable footpaws. You nuzzle against each while you're in the area, before the musk and your boyfriend's pointed gaze refocuses you on the part for which he most wants attention.

You can't take it anymore. You press your nose right in against the slingshot-shaped crease where his balls meet with each other and the furred sheath that hugs the base of his humanoid foreskin. Sniff, sniff... the musk has you needing him more. You look to him desperately for any kind of command, any last confirmation that he's ready for you to do your absolute best to pleasure him right now.

He gives a slow, dominant nod, and your heartbeat flourishes with joy. In an instant you're groping, licking... feeling and tasting him as you dive into your sacred duty of bringing him to bliss.

"Hrrr... good pup," he teases you. The praise hits your brain like a stimulant drug, flooding you with readiness and encouraging you to touch, suckle, serve, and enjoy. It feels so warm as you run your fingers over it, the shaft's veins bulging within the foreskin as you roll it up and down along him. Your tongue finds his pre the moment it starts arriving, and the taste of it is way better than any candy, albeit a little acrid.

Sniiiiiiff. You are lapping at it, sucking the tip, scrubbing and massaging with both hands while his balls rise and lower, the package growing gradually tighter overall while his torso starts to squirm from your efforts. His eyes droop shut, and he rumbles while groaning your name. Hearing it excites you, reminding you that you are his good underling and that treating him well will lead to more rewards. You watch as his back starts to arch, his head leaning and jaws parting as he starts to quietly howl, the sound so soft and sweet at first while his meaty cock progresses nearer and nearer toward where it's going. You moan and try to howl along with him, but your voice doesn't sound as authentic as his, and he silences you by pressing you back in for more suckling.

Soon, it's coming; you can feel it throb faster and harder.

"Drink," he tells you, like it'll be the best thing you've ever tasted. Your grip gets vigorous; your tongue works overtime as it flicks around the edge of his glans and prods on the frenulum. He's starting to lose it, getting noisier and more aggressive -- hips humping, claws digging against the covers, and teeth snapping at the air. You can see the tension in his arm muscles as he presses against his bed, his self-restraint nearly crumbling as you coax his bestial seed to the surface. With your mind full of hunger for his climax, you work your jaws as wide as they'll go and take him deep.

There's another sputter of pre. He growls and shoves it deeper, nearly making you gag as you struggle to handle him. Your hands work better, faster, and catch the rhythm of his increasingly desperate little thrusts.

_Going faster and faster, you moan for it, the sound muffling around his beautiful meat and sending warm vibrations down his nerves. _

He tries to tell you to drink again, but is interrupted by his own need to howl loud and long. His waist presses in hard; his balls go snug against his cockbase and taint. You feel hot, gooey werewolf seed pouring into your throat, and you gulp repeatedly as you struggle to get it all down.

A series of "Mmmm"s emanate from your chest, while the nice feelings from his musk infiltrate you even deeper, leaving your muscles tingly and your whole body nice and relaxed. By the time he finishes cumming, you're trembling even harder and gazing feverishly across the muscular plains of his torso.

His eyes still lock with your own, and he licks his chops before saying, "Well done."

Well done. The phrase echoes through your being, dances across your nerves. You did well. You did well and got the delicious drink. You wag your tail and are dismayed to feel that you still don't have one. You sniff of his musk more and more and lick at his cock in a clamor, starting to whine at him as you beg to be sired into his tribe.

"Look out at the moon, stupid," he says with a playful grin. Then he gives you a gentle shove with one of his massive hands.

Fumbling your way on all fours you get to the sill and look out. It's not full, but you can see it. Waxing gibbous? Waning gibbous? You can never remember which side is which. You just know it looks pretty, and you hear the sounds of all your new brothers and sisters across the world howling excitedly to it.

You're howling too, as your jaws expand and your clothes begin to tear.

Meanwhile, your werewolf boyfriend is stroking himself idly, admiring your changes, and getting himself ready for the inevitable round two.