FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He slipped through the crowd with his hood pulled low over his face. Leon was relieved the weather had begun to turn cold; wearing a dark, heavy cloak in the middle of summer had the unwanted effect of attracting attention.

He didn't stick to the shadows--that was Catra's and Gael's MO--but he did take care to avoid bringing attention to himself, and it made his journey longer than he would have liked. When he reached the main market square, he sauntered in between stalls and paused to examine the people assembled for market day. He couldn't find what he was looking for, so he wandered through the crowd and took up another position on the other side of the square; he scanned the faces surrounding him again. He was beginning to give up hope when his sharp eyes picked out a small white cat sidling alongside a pair of elaborately-dressed nobles. He watched her quick hands dart in and out of the nobles' bags, and he had the queer sensation of wanting to smile and sigh at the same time. He didn't approve of theft, but it was her only means of survival--or had been, until Leon had begun seeing to her needs. She didn't, strictly speaking, need to be out here doing this, not anymore; but she was paranoid, and easily frightened, and always feared the day when Leon would grow bored with her and move on.

He followed her petite form with his eyes, then slipped back into the crowd and began following her. She led him through the throng and into a nearly-deserted tunnel connecting the market square to the domestic district, and then down into the winding passages and alleyways that made up the city slums. He picked up the pace and jogged after her on silent feet.

When there were no more people in sight, she came to a stop at the opening to a small alley. She was checking the contents of the purses when he wrapped one arm around her waist and clamped his other hand over her mouth. She gave a muffled squeal and squirmed, but he was by far the stronger cat, and she couldn't do more than kick at the air and thrash her tail.

"Settle," he murmured into her ear. "It's me."

Catra remained stiff for a moment, then slowly relaxed in his arms. He released her mouth, but not her waist, and nipped one of her ears. She turned in his arms and snuggled up against him, resting her chin on his chest and beaming. Her sweet purr rolled smoothly from her throat. "Leon," she sighed.

He hummed an affirmative and dipped his head down to claim a kiss.

When they pulled away, she was breathless, eyelashes fluttering. "What are you doing out here?" She asked at length.

His lips turned up at the corners. "I wanted to see you."

She looked mildly confused, as if she were too content to bother with being properly puzzled. "How did you find me?"

"It's market day. Where else would you be? I suppose Gael is back in the square."

"He's--um, gathering herbs in the forest..." She licked her lips and looked away.

Farming forbidden potion ingredients. Leon sighed inwardly. Never mind. Then he glanced behind himself, bent, and picked her up. Her legs parted and wrapped around his waist; she laughed softly, then leaned down from her new vantage point to kiss him. When they separated, he carried her into the alley, following its slight curve until he'd found them as much privacy as they were going to get. Then he pressed her back against the wall and slid one hand up her thigh, pushing her blue, fitted dress back until it bunched around her hips. He lamented her not being in heat--he liked to find her dripping through her sheer panties, as she had during her heats these last two seasons--and hooked his thumb around her underwear between her legs, pulling it aside to reveal her soft sex.

She moaned gently, her thin arms locked around his neck. He kissed her shoulder while he pushed one finger into her body, all the way to the knuckle. She was warm and soft, but not very wet--not yet. "I dream of you, you know," he murmured into her ear while he thrust his finger in and out.

She squeaked and squirmed, tail thrashing. "D-do you?"

He breathed in her scent through parted lips, pleased to detect her growing arousal. "But I find dreams to be a poor substitute. It's been so long since we last met."

"We m-met last week," she managed. Her words faded into a strangled moan. "Leon, oh--"

He pulled his finger out of her body and began massaging her clit, squeezing her backside harder with his other hand. He enjoyed the sounds she began making--little moans and purrs and whimpers, interspersed with broken whispers, begging him for more. She always wanted more, more of him, and her desire was utterly intoxicating. "When is your heat this season?" He breathed, knowing the answer but craving it on her lips.

She struggled to form words. "H-heat? Ah--um--oh. A-ah--it, um...any d-day now."

He took in her scent again, inhaling deeply, and decided she was aroused enough. He set her down carefully, ready to catch her if her legs gave out. Her knees trembled, but she kept her feet and leaned against him heavily, rubbing her cheek against his chest and purring harder. "You're a bit late this season, aren't you?" He murmured, dragging her dress up her body slowly. The interval between her last two heats had been eighty-nine days exactly; he'd been hoping it would be the same this season. Females rarely strayed from their cycles.

Not that he'd been counting. He resigned himself to patience and abandoned the thought in favor of lifting her dress over her head and dropping it on the ground. She stood in just a sheer pair of panties, which were still pulled aside so her sex was on display along with her breasts. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and kissed her again. When he pulled away, he ran one hand down her body until he could cup her pussy. A bead of her fluids escaped her tight seam, and he gave her a small smile. She was so easy to please, always so eager for him. His cock strained against his pants while he slid two fingers into her body and began moving his hand quickly, making wet little slaps every time his palm met her clit.

"Um," she stammered, spreading her legs farther, "w-what was--oh--wha..." Her voice faded into a shaky moan. She was shivering in the chill autumn air, and he'd never seen her nipples so hard, suffused with blood and standing out from her fur as if reaching for him. He bent to take one between his teeth and began fumbling one-handed with his belt. He didn't undo his pants completely, just untied what needed to be untied in order to free his cock. He straightened and drew close to her to block out the breeze. Resting both hands on her soft shoulders, he wrapped his cloak around her so that they were both bundled up together, Catra's nude body pressed against his. He ached to remove his clothing and press his fur against hers, but there was no time for an extended liaison. He let her wrap a shy hand around his cock, and he exhaled through his teeth at the touch of her cold fingers. He wanted to let her continue her exploration--two seasons, and she was still shy of touching him--but he had no more time for play.

He released her and pulled his cloak off, dropping it on the cobblestones next to her dress. "On your elbows, my dear," he murmured, and then he stepped back. He stroked himself with the hand he'd used on Catra while she obeyed, kneeling on his cloak and spreading her thighs, rump in the air and tail twisted to the side. She looked at him over her shoulder, strands of her long hair falling across her face. "Leon," she purred, their previous exchange evidently forgotten, "please--"

He needed no further invitation; Leon knelt and positioned himself quickly, then pushed into her, moaning as the cool air was replaced with her hot pussy. He sheathed himself fully and gripped her hips, teasing her skin with his claws before pulling out and shoving himself back in again. Her body gripped him tightly, and he knew he was too large for her; she'd told him that it always hurt a little at first. The price of a big cat mating with a common cat. But he made sure the hurt faded into sweetness quickly enough. Leon was glad they'd decided to ignore his initial no-vaginal-mating rule; the likelihood of cubs was so minimal as to be nonexistent, and her body was a wonder. He couldn't imagine never getting to feel this, didn't know how he'd lived before Catra had slipped into his life and spread her thighs for him, taking him into a world he never would have found without her.

No female he'd ever been with compared to her.

He settled into a hard rhythm, choosing rough over simple speed. Every time he hit her body, she squeaked or whimpered, and made all of those delicious sounds he wanted to devour. Releasing her hips, he paused long enough to walk forward on his hands, then began driving himself in and out of her again. He moaned her name, and would have purred if it were possible. Her body was a wonderfully hot oasis in the otherwise chill air around them. Growling, he buried himself in her harder, his climax at his clawtips. "Catra," he breathed into her ear, "are you ready to come for me?"

"Y-yes," she cried softly, "I'm ready, I'm ready, please, Leon, please--"

He lifted one hand and ran it down her stomach, spreading his fingers so that he touched both sides of her pussy without brushing her clit. He teased her while her voice rose, touching and rubbing and pinching everywhere but where she wanted. "Does this please you?" he breathed, nibbling the back of her neck. He took a mouthful of fur and skin and closed his jaws.

"Y-yes--no--Leon--!"

He huffed out a short laugh and finally deigned to give her what she wanted. His fingertips found her clit and pressed, and she reacted immediately. Her pussy clenched around him, and she gave a broken cry, strangling her purr. Then she went limp, and he could finally let himself go. His orgasm crashed through him, leaving him shuddering and gasping while he spilled his seed in her body. He pulled out immediately thereafter and sat on his heels, panting.

Catra rolled onto her side and curled up happily, both as a sign of content and a method for warding off the cold. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and smiled that sweet smile she reserved especially for him.

He rolled her onto her back and groomed her pussy for her, then sighed and helped her to her feet. She pulled her dress over her head. He took a moment to admire her while she began smoothing down the fur of her tail with her claws. He was pleased to find her wearing clothing that fit and didn't make her look like a slum cat, although he had the faint sensation of missing her old ragged dress. It had been too small for her, and showed off her breasts beautifully. This dress accentuated her curves, but wasn't particularly sexy. He was also pleased to find she had gained weight; when he'd first met her, she'd been skin and bone. Now she was filling out and looked fit and healthy, as she should. He smiled down at her. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

She paused and looked up at him, lips parted. Compliments never failed to catch her by surprise. It was both endearing and irritating; because she was a beautiful cat. She should be used to compliments and praises by now.

"Always," she said, soft. "You're not so bad yourself, you know." She grinned up at him.

"I am glad to hear it," he said, bending to pick up his cloak. He threw it around his shoulders and pulled up the hood. "I must go. My father has summoned me for an audience before luncheon."

She nodded, her face sympathetic. She knew how he felt about his father. "Okay," she said softly. "See you later?"

He smirked at her over his shoulder. "Of course."