FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The raccoon lined up her papers in a stack and laid them down on the desk. Essays mostly, things to go over and grade later in the night. Most of her students were fairly good at putting together coherent essays, some were not, and she would be ready with her trusty red pen for constructive criticism.

She examined her schedule on her phone. The day was nearly over; all that remained was paperwork. No more lecturing, no more assignments, no more leering male eyes. Well, almost. She looked across the desk and smiled at her son. He was adopted, but the similarity was so striking that nobody ever questioned her claim on him.

"Doing all right?" Naomi softly asked. "It's been a busier day than I expected, but you're holding up well. I'm proud of you."

Desmond smiled back at her. He had a diffident quality which Naomi had stopped trying to correct less than six months into his adoption. It was as ingrained in him as the color of his eyes; he was submissive. Naomi loved him regardless. She loved him the same way she loved her biological children.

"Running papers around for you, making copies. Easy stuff," he said. "Everyone here is nice to me. They all know I'm yours."

The raccoon winked. "Of course they know. You look just like me." She went back to her desk, reaching into the small wire basket labeled IN. It seemed at times that she spent more time filling out forms than teaching.

For a time the room was quiet. The clock ticking at the head of the room, the whisper of Desmond's broom, the tiny scrape of Naomi's pen. The raccoon interrupted the reverie when she said, "Desmond, sweetie. I need you to go to the next room over, that way," she said, gesturing towards the head of the room with her pen. "Let Ms. Janssen know she'll need to trim her class short tomorrow."

"Right," Desmond replied. He propped the broom against the wall and the moment he stepped back, its handle skittered along the wall and clacked to the floor. Desmond stared at it as if it were a shattered vase, his ears going flat, then at Naomi, who smiled patiently.

"Just go. Don't worry about it."

"All right, sorry," Desmond murmured. When he had his paw on the doorknob, he turned and asked, "Um, which one is Ms. Janssen?"

Naomi did not look up from her papers. "You'll know her when you see her, sweetie. Go on."

Out in the hall, Desmond had to force himself to remember which room his mother had wanted him to go to. He recalled the direction. Then he deduced she must mean it was along the same side of the hall. He felt a bit of pride over his deduction.

He came to a door, its pane glazed, letters on the surface reading English Literature. Beneath, Ms. Johanna Janssen. He knocked once, then entered, sticking in his head first like a soldier peeking out of a foxhole. That was when he saw her.

Johanna Janssen, though seated at her desk, was tall enough to force Desmond to tilt back his head to look at her eyes. Ruby-red albino eyes, warm and kind in spite of their violent shade. The rest of her body was shades of gray as if all color had been removed from her. Her long neck and spots said giraffe; her snout and delicately filed horn said rhinoceros.

She smiled at Desmond first curiously, then warmly, and welcomed him with halting but polite words. "Please, come in. Ah, you are," she paused, "Naomi's son."

Desmond approached her slowly, as if anticipating danger. The look on his face was one Johanna was used to if not entirely sure of; awe at her size, often turning to a kind of barely-contained lust. Men desperate to sate their giantess fantasies stumbled across Johanna like parched travelers tripping over an oasis: gratefully, and stunned that she was no mirage.

"What may I do for you?" Johanna asked, and tilted her head. "Or did you only, ah, wish to say hello? In that case, hello!"

"Hello," Desmond uncertainly replied. He paused at the opposite side of her desk, head craned back, smile quirking at his mouth. "Um."

Johanna was cheerful in most things. A relative lack of familiarity with English - it being the third language she had picked up - left her mercifully deaf to Desmond's awkwardness. She set down her pen, laid her palms on the desk. From her wrists to the tips of her middle fingers, her hands spanned the desk.

"Your name is Desmond, correct?"

"Oh, yes," Desmond answered. "It sure is. Desmond Lank-," he winced. Still in the habit of using his old name. His egg donor's name. "Desmond Rasputin," he corrected.

The giraffe-rhino (girrhino) smiled and nodded politely. "Hello, Desmond. You, ah, study here?"

The fox grabbed the thick cord of his braid and toyed with its end. "Oh, no, no, I'm just helping my mother." Recollection hit him like an electric shock. "Oh, my mother! Um, she wanted me to let you know-," and then his expression became dismayed. He looked away from Johanna. "Something..."

"Something?" Johanna probed.

"Yeah, something," Desmond muttered. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're just-, I just get distracted easily, I guess."

Although she could be awkward with regards to English and a touche naive, Johanna was not stupid. She could see his blush, his nervous fingers. It made her blush, herself. Such a cute young man, the spitting image of Naomi even if he was in fact adopted; a happy coincidence, Johanna believed. That such an attractive fox should be so flustered confounded her.

The door creaked open and in stepped Naomi with her usual easy grace. Desmond looked at her, then away again, and redoubled his picking at his braid.

The raccoon smiled at Johanna, squeezed her boy around the shoulder, and kissed his cheek. "Johanna," she said, "you'll need to shorten your class a bit tomorrow. There's a guest speaker coming and all of our classes are being cut down five minutes."

Johanna nodded. "I think if I, ah, rearrange some lessons, I can accommodate that change."

"Good, good." Naomi touched Desmond's chin gently. "Desmond, have you been polite?"

The girrhino uncharacteristically interrupted. "Desmond has been a very polite young man."

Naomi raised her brows somewhat. "Well, Ms. Janssen is vouching for you. I'm sold."

"Mm," Desmond grunted. His eyes swept over Johanna, then drifted to the floor. His cheeks were hot.

Although Naomi provided for her son sexually, it was still her motherly urge to try and nudge him in the direction of other women. But Desmond was shy, she knew; shy and quiet. Desmond did not respond well to pushes. Even nudges needed to be careful and unobtrusive.

She kissed his cheek again. In one such careful nudge, she said, "Desmond, why don't you help Johanna? I'm sure she could use a strapping young man for something."

Desmond looked at Naomi with surprise and uncertainty. She smiled unreadably, said a polite goodbye to Johanna, and left her son alone with the girrhino.

For a moment Johanna was silent, considering this development. She was wise to Naomi's ways, more so than Desmond himself. She stood up from her desk and he stepped back, feeling brief, feral fear at her colossal size. This, too, Johanna was accustomed to.

"I don't have anything for you to do," said Johanna with a kind of humor. "At least, ah, not related to the classroom." She stepped around the desk, approaching Desmond with ponderous footsteps. Her looming, somewhat pudgy body eclipsed his small frame. Slowly, knowing her own strength and the skittishness of the small, Johanna reached for Desmond and slid her somewhat rough fingertips through his hair. Silky and smooth, it had no tangles, hanging like a wavy sheet of gold silk. "Your hair is, ah, quite nice. It reminds me of Naomi's."

Desmond brought around the thick brush of his tail and embraced it. He looked to Johanna like a small child with a teddy bear. "She brushes it and helps me curl it," he explained. "And she taught me how to braid it."

The girrhino beamed a smile. "Your braid is lovely, yes." Now both hands stroking his hair, halting, touching his cheeks. "I would enjoy brushing you. Or braiding your hair for you."

"Likewise," Desmond murmured. Then he said more firmly, "I mean, I'd like to brush your hair, too. It's so-, it's so white," he blurted.

Johanna was unruffled by the remark. "I am an albino," she patiently explained. "I have no color at all."

"Except for your eyes," Desmond observed.

"Except for my eyes," Johanna concurred. She smiled and sat on her desk. It creaked but held. Slowly she began to unbutton her blouse. Desmond's breath hitched in his throat, escaping as a reedy whistle. The girrhino said as she undid the third row of buttons, exposing many inches of cleavage, "Desmond, would you lock the door?"

"Y-yes, okay," Desmond agreed, voice barely a croak. He forced himself to move. He felt like shackles were clamped to his ankles. But he made it to the door and he locked it, then drew the blinds for good measure, even though the frosted pane obscured all.

As he came back, Johanna was finishing the final row of buttons. Her tremendous breasts, each wider than his torso, were held in place by a conservative blue brassiere. Her cheeks were red and warm but her smile was motherly, though Johanna had no children.

"You are a cute young man," she said in as close to a coo as she could get. "Please, won't you, ah, also undress? For me?"

Desmond gained a small, impish smile. An old, old bit of self-deprecation swam to the surface. Naomi had convinced him not to say it anymore because he was cute and sweet and should show more self-esteem. But the phrase still crossed his mind: I'm not sure you want me to.

He peeled off his white tee, a favorite of Desmond who preferred to blend into the scenery with plain clothes and neutral colors. His slim chest elicited no reaction from Johanna, not that he had expected one. It was the lower half that tended to raise eyebrows.

The girrhino watched, blushing and smiling pleasantly, as Desmond lowered his jeans. He stepped out of them quite fastidiously, and then closed his eyes before sliding down his briefs.

"I'm sorry, I know it's really-, I know it's not much to look at," said Desmond in a low, almost miserable voice. His penis was small yet stiff, pointing towards Johanna's knees like a compass dial.

Johanna tilted her head somewhat. "Don't be sorry. It looks, ah, just fine on you. You're a cute young man." The fact was Johanna saw nothing unusual about Desmond's small size. He stood only as high as her hips; everybody was tiny to her. Men in general could not satisfy her the old-fashioned way. Her lewd thoughts - and she had them from time to time - were for other parts of Desmond. His tongue, certainly. His paws, yes. Giving pleasure was perhaps her favorite thing to do. She imagined many ways she could make Desmond happy.

She reached back and unclasped her brassiere. Freed from the cups, her tremendous breasts tumbled free. Incredibly pert and round, they drew Desmond's hungry eyes at once. Her nipples, gray and as wide as dinner plates, were yet soft. She set aside her bra near Desmond's clothing. The fox could have used it as a blanket.

"Come closer," Johanna said, smiling sweetly - her default expression, or so it seemed to everybody who knew her. As Desmond approached she studied him from her elevated place, her eyes warm and free of judgment behind angular frames. The naked fox reached her and she took his shoulders in her hands, pulled him closer, between her legs which a smart, charcoal-colored skirt covered.

Desmond's head rested on the girrhino's paunch, ears dragging the underside of her breasts. She petted gently, enviously over his hair and whispered, "Desmond, ah, please don't be shy." A thought occurred to her, wry enough to feel alien in her head: your mother certainly isn't.

And so Desmond began to touch her. Haltingly at first. Paws sliding over her breasts, seeming to marvel at the softness of her hide. Paw pads grinding into her wide nipples with coaxing insistence. As they began to stiffen he knelt on the desk, which he reasoned already held Johanna so his minor weight could hardly be the deciding factor.

The nub of a nipple fit barely in his mouth. He moaned around it; Johanna moaned back softly. She cooed as the fox began to suckle it, and to prod at its center with his tongue. "I do not have milk but your mouth feels nice."

His paws felt over her chest, her sides. There was so much of her to cover and Desmond felt very, very small with her. He dared to put a paw under her skirt. A gentle brush with her vulva was all it took for Johanna to quiver. The middle-aged girrhino dragged her fingers down his back, whispered to him, "Oh, yes. There. Touch there, Desmond."

Desmond pushed against her loins and found her to be wet. It made him blush, made him grin. He mouthed her nipple then pulled back, huffing. Gleaming saliva bridged his black jowls to her gray nipple. "You're so big, are you sure I'll be able-?"

The girrhino had heard the question many times before in one form or another: can I satisfy you? The answer was not so simple; it depended on the foxcoon's creativity. She grasped his tiny wrist softly and helped him, pulled him closer, encouraging him to be rougher. "I think that you can," she said quietly. "I, ah, believe in you. Being Naomi's son."

His blush was hot, penis stiff, dribbling. Johanna was so sweet that he was compelled to treat her gently; but he himself enjoyed rough sex when he was the one bottoming. And Johanna was so big, so obviously sturdy.

Biting his lip, his blush vibrant, Desmond squeezed on her clothed loins as if trying to wring juice fruit. He felt the soft flesh of her lips giving under his digits, the wet rush of vaginal secretions dampening his palm. He felt her and smelled her; he dipped his head under her skirt and mouthed her, lapping the split of her pussylips through her panties.

"Oh, Desmond," she huffed, a tiny and bashful grin on her face. "Yes, like that. Be very firm. Your mother says I am, ah, quite durable."

Desmond mouthed her again. His teeth grazed her, her panties doing little to dull the sharp points. His paws slid over her inner thighs, caressing the most massive legs he had ever seen in his life. He slopped his tongue along one, moaning, huffing as he left a thick stripe of slobber. Then the fox lunged on her sex again. He bit her through her panties, drawing a gasp from her. She bucked involuntarily, causing her desk to creak.

"Yes," she whispered, the pleasure in her voice unmistakable. "Yes, Desmond." Her heavy hands roamed his head, petting his ears, doing so with practiced gentleness. Johanna was very aware of the monstrous strength and weight of her body; it was part of the reason she was so prim in most things.

Desmond's arms slid around her back. He held her tightly though her body was too thick for him to properly hug and he mouthed, gnawed her through the fabric of her panties. The material was dark with an uncertain mixture of eager fox slobber and Johanna's heavy secretions.

The girrhino palmed Desmond's head, making large portions of it disappear under her great hands. She dug lovingly into his ears, knowing just how tender they would be. It was the only pleasure she could think to give the eager fox. She comforted herself with the knowledge that Desmond was enjoying her so much.

When the fox pulled back, he did it with a gasp. His chin was soaked, his eyes dozy and half-lidded. He slid his fingers under her panties and said, "These-, these have gotta come off."

She stood, but not without first nudging Desmond back so she wouldn't bowl him over. It was her intent to undress for him, but as she unbuttoned her skirt, Desmond yanked down her panties in a manner which was almost rude. In the current situation, however, Johanna was just fine with a little rudeness.

Desmond put eyes on the gray, shiny lips of Johanna's sex and shuddered. He hugged her leg, nuzzling at her loins, smelling, tasting her with timid licks. "You are perfect," he moaned to her, his tail swaying, penis grinding against her knee. "You're so ta-a-all..."

"So I am," Johanna agreed, smiling and blushing. "Desmond, perhaps you'd like to, ah, sit down for me? I would love to do something for you."

He took a few hungry, loving licks at her vulva. Everything about Johanna was so large. Johanna's tremendous, womanly body awoke in him an unspeakable thirst for massive women. He nuzzled her pussylips, mouthed them, and his paws felt over her ass briefly. Her behind was another monster entirely. He intended to familiarize himself with that, but Johanna was so big that he could only hope to experience her in chapters.

"Desmond," the girrhino said, feeling ignored and doted upon in the same instant. She uttered a small giggle, somewhat nervously. "Desmond, please, won't you let me, ah, return the favor...?"

"Yes, okay," Desmond answered. As he pulled back, he gave one of her thighs a gentle kiss nowhere in particular. "You're just so-, you're amazing. I don't know how to explain it."

She smiled down at him in her fond way. Ruffling his hair, she said, "You do not have to explain. I believe your actions tell me everything."

At that, Desmond smiled back. He looked nervous and awkward, but Johanna thought him very cute. He asked where he should sit; Johanna patted the desk.

When Desmond sat back, his feet dangled high off the floor. He resisted the urge to let his feet swing. He looked up at her feeling smaller than ever, but the feeling was mitigated, if only a bit, when Johanna knelt between his legs. He shivered, anticipation taking hold of him.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked, excitement in his voice.

"Something I think you'll enjoy," Johanna said, and smiled so completely her eyes nearly closed. Gripping the edges of the desk, she dipped her head and nuzzled at his very small, very stiff penis. Dribbles of precum ran down its underside. Johanna opened her warm lips, kissed it softly. At this alone, Desmond quivered.

Like a serpent, Johanna's tongue slithered free, coiling as it did around the stiff rod of Desmond's penis. Long and gray, a feature of her giraffe side, it dripped with saliva. Desmond's penis and the fur all around it soon were wet. His small, blonde tuft of pubic hair was left sticky with drool as well. Still more of Johanna's tongue came into play, coiling, squeezing Desmond with incredible dexterity. Its tip slid underneath his scrotum and around it like a ribbon on a gift.

Desmond fell back against the desk. His legs twisted and toes curled. Shuddering, inelegant moans issued from his grimacing mouth. He felt over Johanna's head with the same sweetness she had shown him when their positions had been reversed.

"Oh-, oh my god," he bleated over the soft, wet sounds of Johanna's tongue-based fellatio. "I won't last, I'm not gonna last."

Johanna wanted to tell the foxcoon that it was quite all right if he didn't last. It was important that he felt good, not that he impress her; but to tell him that would have meant interrupting what made him feel so good in the first place. And so she compromised by feeling over his chest and his belly, touching him sweetly. He laid a paw over her hand and she grasped it softly.

The small size of her partner implied no less attention from the massive girrhino; Johanna cherished the moments in which she gave her suitors relief. Her tongue was cautious with English like the touch of the blind, but in sex it was slick and dexterous.

The whole length of her tongue tightened and tugged at Desmond's small package. She paid out more of it and it slunk along the fox's throbbing genitals and its tapered tip wriggled under the snug purse of the foxcoon's scrotum. Johanna's eyes were closed; she was playing Desmond entirely by feeling. She had done this enough times to know where to go.

Her tonguetip brushed the small pink bud of Desmond's anus. Its rim tensed despite the gentle love her tongue promised. Johanna squeezed with her tongue, cinching sweetly on the aching fox. His whine was long and quivering like a busted whistle. She adored the sound.

Again her tongue wriggled against his pucker. It found a small amount of purchase on the rim but Johanna was gentle, too passive to tonguefuck somebody unless they insisted. And yet there was no need for such a drastic measure. Johanna felt the twinge in Desmond's penis and noted the buck of his hips. His cum oozed into the wet tangle of her tongue and diffused across its gray surface, dribbling down like rain off of loping ivy. The salty taste meant success in her efforts. She was happy for the fox. She felt for one of his paws and squeezed it when she found it.

"God," Desmond wheezed, touching Johanna with lazy and reverent fingers - a lover's satisfied touch. He traced around her filed horns the way she might trace his ears if their positions were swapped.

"Oh, Johanna," he cooed, his body largely slack, utterly relaxed. "Johanna..."

The girrhino tongued his flaccid member as she drew back the long gray muscle. His semen she swallowed with relative indifference. She saw some had made its way into his fur and especially his bush, but felt no whorish need to lap it up. His fur was already saturated with her drool anyway. As she straightened, she reached across her desk and into a drawer, producing a box of unscented tissues.

"Here, Desmond," said Johanna quietly. "You may clean up with these, if you wish." She said as the fox began to blot his messy loins, "I assume from what happened that you, ah, enjoyed that."

"I did," Desmond said, unnecessarily. He smiled at her somewhat sheepishly, but Johanna thought he looked less nervous. She thought he looked, in fact, the way his mother did after she came. The uncanny resemblance he shared with his adoptive mother astonished Johanna.

Desmond dropped the tissues into the wastebasket. His fur was smeary with drool but more or less clean. He started to sit up and Johanna took his paw, straightening him with barely a tug.

"Thank you," he said, a bit unnerved by the reminder of her strength. With that came the great thirst he felt for her size. From his place on the desk, he touched her hips and studied casually the lips of her gray sex. When he had first seen Johanna, he had expected - and privately hoped - to see pubic hair on her groin. But her smooth mound wasn't a deal breaker, not at all.

"Johanna-, Ms. Janssen..."

She giggled at the sudden formality. "Desmond. Please. We have been, ah, close. Do not distance yourself now."

The fox chuckled, made nervous by the mild censuring. It made him love her more. He adored everything about her, from her appearance to the way she spoke and carried herself.

"I'm sorry. I just-, I got a little nervous, Johanna."

Johanna smiled. She ruffled his well-ruffled hair, leaving it a disheveled mop of blonde, but nothing a good brushing wouldn't repair. "It is okay, Desmond." She bent quite far and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Now please, ah, tell me what is on your mind."

Desmond imagined Naomi with her ear against the door. Or maybe she had the room bugged. He looked up at Johanna and said with as little fear as he could, "Would you like some company tonight?"

The girrhino's smile gained a few degrees of warmth. "I would love some company. Especially such, ah, pleasant company as yourself."

They hastily pulled their clothes on. Johanna gave Desmond's hair a brief but motherly brushing with her own hairbrush to help him shed the just-got-laid look his ruffled mop implied. She gave her own smartly bunned hair a once-over and put the brush back in its ordained drawer.

"I live so close to the campus that I prefer to walk," said the girrhino, opening her classroom door. "Is that all right with you, Desmond?"

"I don't mind a walk," he agreed. "Let me just say goodbye to my mom."

"Of course. I will meet you by the fountain, Desmond," said Johanna, smiling.

Desmond returned to Naomi's classroom. He peered through the frosted glass and saw that the hall was dark. The door was not locked. He let himself in and left the lights off.

"Mom? Hey, you in here?" he called, not too loudly. He was self-conscious of calling for his mother no matter the circumstance.

The hall was empty and quiet. Desmond found a handwritten note on her desk. It read:

To Desmond, You seem to be getting along with Ms. Janssen. I won't wait up for you tonight. Love, Mom.

His cheeks warmed as he read the succinct message. He felt almost guilty crumpling it and dropping it in the wastebasket. He locked her lecture hall on the way out and found Johanna in front of the building, waiting patiently by the fountain.

"I do not, ah, see Naomi's car in the parking lot," she said as he came within earshot. A small smile had crept onto her snout.

"Guess that settles it, huh?"

"Indeed," Johanna agreed. She touched his shoulder and giggled. "Come along. It's a nice evening. I live only a few blocks away."

The walk was short as far as walks go, the gentle clop of Johanna's hooves playing a steady rhythm with the whisper of Desmond's paw pads. It was a time to think and to recharge; he glanced at her frequently, admiring her figure in profile and from a few steps behind. Admiring her massive hips, her wide bottom, her thighs which were nearly as thick as his torso. He felt a deep and masculine lust, a need to breed which he rarely felt during passive fumblings with Naomi. Suddenly he realized how much tepid sex she tolerated to make him happy. He resolved to make Mother's Day special for her.

"Here we are," said Johanna at last as she went up the steps of an upscale apartment building. Like a drive-thru or a truck stop, it sported a sign out front which listed the maximum height of its occupants. This apartment topped out at twelve feet.

Inside the building, Johanna walked past the elevator and took the stairs. Desmond followed closely, not minding a bit more exercise. Six flights of stairs later, Johanna broke off down a hallway, white-walled and warmly-lit as all the others had been. She opened the door into her apartment with her key, then held it open.

"Please, after you."

"Thank you," Desmond replied as he stepped inside.

Johanna flicked on the light switch by the door. Desmond felt like a small child once the scale of the apartment hit him. The apartment by and large was mild and typical, with a couch and a television, an armchair, a window nook with a hardcover book lying on its cushions. There was a kitchenette and a hallway leading to the restroom with a linen closet across from it, and a single bedroom at the end.

But Desmond felt tiny because everything was sized for Johanna's colossal frame. The coffee table was navel-height; the couch he would have to mantle onto if he wanted to sit. Most startling of all, the ceiling brought to mind a cathedral with its great clearance, twelve-and-a-half feet leaving even Johanna head room to spare.

In the middle of setting aside her purse and hanging up her keys, Johanna watched as Desmond took in the size of things. It was a revelatory moment for her as well, and for the opposite reason, because she realized as if for the first time how small Desmond was. The effect it had on her was a loving one. She smiled and laid a heavy, but gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Desmond, would you be upset if I were to, ah, cook dinner for you and I?"

He looked up her body slowly and met her warm eyes as they peered down at him. He touched her hip, slid his arm around her, and finally leaned against her. "No, I'm actually-, food, yeah. Hungry."

Johanna giggled. "Desmond. How would your mother feel if she could hear you butchering the English language in this manner?"

The fox blushed, looked away. Johanna giggled again. Unable to help herself, she ruffled his hair. "You are adorable."

"Thanks," he murmured. "Uh, what are you going to cook? I wouldn't mind helping."

She smiled and led him into the kitchenette. From the fridge, she took a bundle of leafy greens, a bell pepper, and an onion. "Stir-fry," said the girrhino, laying the ingredients on her cutting board. "I planned this meal for myself alone, but, there will be plenty for you as well."

Desmond stood by the counter, and again his smallness as compared to Johanna's world stunned him. He could see the top of the counter, but that was all he could manage. Again he looked up at Johanna, who said politely, "I can cook alone, but I do appreciate your offer."

For a few moments Johanna cut and diced, and softly hummed all the while. Desmond loitered nearby, at times watching her work, other times examining her figure in profile, and especially from behind. Her taut skirt preserved the curves of her bottom as well as a snug pair of shorts might.

It was the girrhino who broke the silence. She said with a soft laugh, "Oh! I am still wearing my outfit for university. Perhaps I should, ah, make myself comfortable at home?"

"Oh-, yeah, I think you should," Desmond agreed, nodding once.

Johanna smiled. "Wait here, please, Desmond."

"Sure, I'm not going anywhere." In the minutes to come, he looked in the fridge - a massive, intimidating appliance to him - and pilfered a bottle of iced tea. It, at least, was of a familiar size.

Johanna's hooves announced her presence before her voice did. Desmond turned to face her and nearly dropped his tea. Johanna had returned wearing nothing but a smile and a blush, breasts heaving with each deliberate step, silver albino hair flowing like a curtain. She giggled and said to the fox, "I am very comfortable now."

"You-, yeah," Desmond chuckled, blushing too. He reached up and set the tea on the counter. Briefly he gazed at her body, her smooth loins, and then he met her eyes. "Think I should be comfortable too?"

The girrhino, who did not grin or smirk, nevertheless gained some subtle coyness in her smile. "I would like nothing more than for you to be comfortable, Desmond."

And so the fox made himself comfortable in the kitchen, leaving his clothing in a heap. Johanna returned to dicing, soon adding a bit of oil to the pan, and then she added the vegetables. As she stood by her stove softly humming and gently stirring, Desmond hugged her. As he did, he nuzzled into her body, his face resting naturally just above her rump.

Johanna said nothing, but she was smiling broadly. Softly she moved her hips as if to an unheard rhythm. Desmond held onto her rear. He nuzzled into the cheeks and touched his cool nose against the bud of he anus. Johanna shivered; then came the tongue, loping over her rim in swirling strokes, warm muscle laying down sticky slobber.

"You are-, very much like your mother," said the girrhino haltingly. She reached back and rubbed Desmond's head sweetly. "That feels good. Your tongue is wonderful."

Desmond shuddered. He was wholly in love with the girrhino, enamored by everything from her smile to the vulgar aspects of her sex appeal. He slurped across her anus, through her crack. Under his tongue, her relatively large anal ring tensed.

She stirred along the rim of the pan, bringing in the vegetables at the edges so they could cook. Between chubby thighs, her vulva dribbled a thin, musky fluid. She pushed her bottom against Desmond lightly. "Dinner will be-," she cooed, "it will be very soon, Desmond."

"Mmhmm," Desmond answered, still slobbering. He planted his lips on her rim and smooched it. Then he smooched it again, much harder this time. He suckled it. He prodded it with his tongue, and he worked the foremost inches inside, just enough to make her clench down. Her big body wobbled like a skyscraper in a strong wind.

"Desmond," Johanna said, voice warm with pleasure. "Would you care for, ah, some kind of appetizer?"

The fox slurped his way out of her ass crack, huffing as he escaped the deep, dark embrace of her cheeks. Where his tongue had been, a stark trail of drool shone on her hide. His paws held firmly on her cheeks, dimpling them somewhat. "Appetizer?" he asked. "Like-, like what?"

Johanna's tail swished, batting playfully against his snout. She turned off the fire and put a lid on the pan; it would do the greens some good to set, anyway. Moving quickly, pulling her rump out of Desmond's paws, Johanna pressed her rear against the counter's edge away from the stove. Wearing a blushing smile, she parted the gray lips of her sex, baring flesh of a bluish shade. Her mind raced for something coy and clever to say; words in her natural tongue of Xhosa flowed easier than English by far, but she did not wish to confuse the fox and slow things down.

Desmond understood the girrhino's blunt body language just as she expected he would. Without asking, without needing to, he buried his face in her loins. He slobbered across spread, dark flesh, tongue dragging over the hooded button of her clitoris, tonguetip dipping with horrible, teasing brevity into the passage of her vagina. She uttered a cooing moan and bucked against his snout. Her pretty face, so often innocent and cheerful, was now lurid and desperate. She panted softly, and her enviable tongue dangled free by six or seven inches.

The fox's paws played across Johanna in sweeping grabs. He squeezed her hips; palmed her thighs; gathered up the subtle roll of her belly and made it dimple under his fingers. Into her sex he moaned and slobbered, his tongue slipping in with the granular fineness of a finger but the kind of slithering, slimy love only a tongue could provide.

Johanna bucked against his face, pushing him roughly with motions she herself found only gentle. Halting moans warbled free of her, musically sweet. Both her heavy hands caressed Desmond's head, stroking over the cups of his ears and the locks of his hair. She whimpered for him, uttering soft words in her native tongue, plaintive cries easily read by their breathless tone. Her hooves scraped and clocked on the tiles as she writhed for her small but capable lover.

Desmond's jowly lips smacked around the thick, gray peach of Johanna's sex. Where her wetness ended and Desmond's slobber began was impossible to tell. It all oozed down his chin like the nectar of a fruit juicy enough to burst, darkening his fluffy white neck and chest in the rough shape of a bib. His tongue slathered into her, fucking her with its prehensile muscle. His teeth pricked into her loins, jabbing smooth lips and her pubic mound - kept neatly hairless, as she preferred to be, enamored though she sometimes was by the blonde bush which Naomi proudly wore.

"Oh-, oh Desmond," Johanna bleated, holding fast to his head, keeping his maw mashed against her sex. She felt him, reading him for even the slightest sign of discomfort but the foxcoon moaned and slavered, pushing himself in further still until his jaws seemed to have spread as far as they could.

The girrhino was tight, exceptionally tight, as she met so few men who could actually make full use of her great size. Desmond felt the fatigue in his tongue as he ate her, the same ache of nearly any other muscle after such exercise; but he loved Johanna, and he pressed onward, swabbing his tongue deeper and harder. He found the size and the womanly musk of the girrhino sublime, but her personality had charmed him besides. His mouth ached but he continued in the hopes of hearing sweet and lusty words be they in her native tongue or halting English.

Johanna was ashamed of how wet her loins seemed to be, but her lust outweighed her shame, and she knew so much of it must be Desmond's seemingly endless drool. Her eyes closed tightly, her lip quivered, and she held onto the small, yet eager fox in cupping fingers which covered his head entirely. "You are-, ah, very good, very good," said Johanna, whose cheeks were as red and hot as embers.

Desmond mouthed her loins as much as he could, and he suckled her, weak as his seal was around so much surface area. His tongue felt spongy and numb and its length barely wriggled inside of the girrhino's deep, welcoming sex; but still Johanna was writhing more and more, her moans turning to shudders and her hooves cuffing the tile. Like a volcano preparing to erupt, she became more and more alive, great body trembling, her heat incredible. She bleated to the fox, "Oh-, oh, Desmond..."

Even cringing with pleasure, Johanna was ladylike and beautiful. She shuddered as she came, her sex unleashing a drenching gush, her squirt enough to wet Desmond down to the navel with hot, musky fluid. As she came she held firmly to his head yet stayed mindful of her strength, ever aware of how fragile the fox was; she liked this little fox very much, the son of her lover and close friend, and now a fine lover himself. Johanna said, shuddering heavily, "So good, so good... Desmond, thank you..."

Johanna unhanded the fox, who pulled his maw off of her loins but stayed near. He worked his jaw, rubbing it at the edges with his fingers. His cheeks were hot and his ears were pinned back. Down his smooth, taut body, Johanna could see easily the small pink protrusion of his erection, throbbing firmly.

Weak in the legs and huffing in pleasure, Johanna held onto the counter and used its heavy granite top to right herself. As she stood resting against its edge, Desmond laid against her, his head on her belly. Johanna smiled and petted slowly down his head and shoulder blades. "Desmond," she huffed, "you are fun to be around."

The fox giggled. "Fun to be around?"

From the girrhino came a mild giggle as well. "By that I mean, ah, I find you to be a skilled lover. I appreciate your attention."

Desmond smiled and closed his eyes. "Uh, I've never done that before. Made a woman-, with my tongue."

"Forgive me for finding that hard to believe," said Johanna with a hint of coyness. She rubbed gently behind his ear. "We should eat before the greens become soggy."

They ate in the nude with Desmond sitting on a chair piled with cushions. Dinner was uneventful, though the fox praised her cooking and had two helpings. Johanna herself put away three, leaving the pan empty.

When the meal was through, Johanna washed the few dishes they had dirtied. Desmond rinsed them, using a stepladder to reach the sink. When the kitchen was again clean, Johanna smiled, dipped low, and pecked a kiss on the fox's forehead. "Thank you, Desmond."

"Anything for you," Desmond blurted. His ears splayed flat after that.

Johanna uttered a petite giggle. "You are adorable. Please. Join me in my bedroom, Desmond."

Though he and the girrhino had given mutual pleasure, the thought of being in Johanna's bed filled Desmond with nervousness better suited to a teenage virgin. He nodded, smiling bashfully, and walked with her down the hallway. She held his paw in hers part of the way, then let him go as they entered the bedroom.

Johanna's bedroom was modest in its decor. Framed on the wall opposite a floor to ceiling curtained window were several photographs of who Desmond guessed to be relatives of hers. In with these photographs was one of Naomi, dressed smartly for the university in modest office attire and her usual coy smile.

Johanna followed Desmond's gaze. She said, "Your mother is, ah, very close to me. She is a good friend."

"She's great, yeah," Desmond said, looking now at Johanna's great, gray body. "She treats me well."

As always, Johanna smiled. She softly ruffled his messy hair and sat on the bed's edge. It was queen-sized relative to her body and sagged only slightly underneath her weight. Her legs she kept modestly together, though her breasts she made no effort to cover.

She coaxed the fox into her lap, then hugged him. His head lay against the heavy pillows of her breasts. "I have to admit, I am at a loss right now. You understand I wish to, ah, make love with you..."

Desmond uttered a nervous giggle. "I know, uh-, I'd like that a lot. But I'm not sure how."

Johanna's fingers played across Desmond's small body. Teasing over the delicate lines of his chest, strumming his navel, then brushing through the soft blonde hair of his bush. His penis she touched almost as an afterthought, though it stood stiff, and the fox huffed quietly at her touch.

Softly, shyly, "Do you like my behind, Desmond?"

Desmond answered suddenly, as if startled: "Uh, sure. I love your butt. Yes."

"Then, perhaps," the girrhino giggled, "you could enjoy that, somehow?"

Resting against her belly and breasts, his breathing anxious, Desmond ran through it in his head. Trying his hardest to get past her cheeks. It was a problem he had with Naomi, whose behind was certainly ample, but even she had nothing on the mighty curves of Ms. Janssen.

As if speaking a disclaimer, he said, "I can try but I can't promise anything."

Johanna was all smiles. She leaned over Desmond and dipped him back, touched her warm lips to his, and swabbed her tongue beyond his sticky jowls. The kiss was agonizingly brief, and as drool loosely bonded their mouths, she spoke, "I would love for you to try. If not, ah, we have already made each other feel wonderful. And I am sure there are other ways in which we may be close."

The great girrhino laid down upon her bed, face down, head on a pillow. Another pillow, large and firm, she tucked under her pelvis to elevate her behind. Its large gray cheeks looked to the hungry fox like a pair of moons close together, marked with big gray spots, wonderfully smooth to the touch.

Desmond, kneeling between her thighs, felt over her rump in worshipful paws. His pads produced a whisper dragging on her hide. Quietly he said, "Your butt is perfect. It's even nicer than my mom's is."

Johanna tittered. Desmond thought there was a naughty quality to it. "That will be our secret. Yes?"

Desmond grinned. He hugged her behind, ground his snout against a cheek, sighed. "Mhm, yeah. Just between us. As far as she's concerned, you're a close second."

"Wonderful," Johanna cooed. "And I will not tell your mother that your tongue feels nicer than hers."

The fox blushed. He said nothing, and he pulled apart the cheeks of Johanna's ass. Deep between them winked the gray bud of her anus, plump and well-trained, undoubtedly his mother's doing. He touched his lips to the rim, kissed it, and suckled it tenderly as if it were a tit.

Under Desmond's sticky lips, Johanna's pucker tensed. The girrhino softly moaned and her tail swished, its tuft laying briefly against Desmond's shoulder blades. "Mm, I enjoy that, very much... it is something your mother has helped me to love."

Desmond dragged his tongue across her rim, starting as far back as he could and ending only when he ran out of tongue to lick with. Under his hungry laps, the girrhino's anus tightened as if smooching his loving tongue. He said at the end of one lap, "She's good at this. I know."

Johanna closed her eyes but her smile remained. "What a lucky young man you are to have such a wonderful mother."

The foxcoon slipped a paw between her cheeks. His fingers brushed with her rim, each digit strumming along the pucker before he settled in with his index finger. Slowly and carefully, he began to sink this finger; Johanna's slippery anus welcomed it, and the girrhino cooed.

"Do you like that?" he said, unable to keep a growl out of his voice. "You're so tight." With a note of hope, he muttered, "This might work."

Johanna flicked her tail against his face, giving him playful swats of her tailtuft. She said in a voice as sweet as syrup, "What you are doing feels wonderful, Desmond. Please, ah, go a bit harder."

Desmond smirked, blushed. He wondered if Johanna was more blunt with Naomi: harder, you will not break me! He eased back his finger, then pressed it in again, but more firmly. Back again, and then he added his middle finger. He found that her anus parted easily for both fingers. Around them she was snug and hot, her anal muscles inviting to him, voice softly cooing.

The foxcoon dipped his snout into the expanse of her ass crack. Around his pumping digits he lapped, tickling her rim, slobbering the soft hide which she sported. He nibbled at the base of her tail where he guessed a number of tender nerves to be, as this was the case for his own tail, and for that of his mother; and Johanna shuddered, her big body shifting underneath his.

"That feels very good," said the girrhino. "Desmond, you are very skilled."

"Oh, I-, I try," Desmond chuckled, blushing and splaying his ears back again. He eased back his fingers and then, biting his lip, he pushed in three, first clustered together and then spreading, working against her snug anal muscles until his fingers were in their natural row. At this slow spreading Johanna cooed and her chubby, lengthy legs drifted further apart. Wetness glinted on the thick lips of her sex.

Desmond drew back the fingers and he greedily mouthed her anus again, giving it suckles, kisses. He breathed in her delicate scent and shuddered; his penis throbbed and it drizzled a minuscule offering of precum on the bed. He clutched his penis as he rimmed her, his tongue swabbing inside, raking across delicate walls every which way. The thought that his mother had been here and conquered all of it weighed on his mind only briefly; he forced Naomi out of his thoughts and he plucked his tongue out of the girrhino.

"Johanna," he cooed, "I'm going to try to put it inside you."

"Well, ah, good luck to you, Desmond," said Johanna, speaking only with sweet encouragement. In a particularly motherly way, she added, "However this turns out, we will have had a wonderful night together."

The foxcoon clambered onto Johanna and the sheer scale of the woman intimidated and thrilled him in competing measures. He held apart the cheeks of her ass, straining to keep them wedged far apart. The space between her massive buttocks was like a canyon to Desmond and as he pressed against the space between, he was comforted by the brush of her fat, warm cheeks both hemming him in and pushing him away.

The tip of Desmond's small penis brushed Johanna's anus. For both it was a tantalizing moment and the fox softly whined. He pressed in, fighting against her cheeks, struggling without a second thought as to how he could possibly perform once he even made it inside. And by some miracle he did penetrate her: his cock slid easily into her behind, the difference in sizes and the thick sheen of drool making Desmond's entry simple. Still Johanna cooed softly, her anus quite sensitive even to small things. She spoke to the foxcoon, "I can feel you now. It is nice, Desmond..."

Clumsy but thrilled by his entry, Desmond bounced against Johanna's plush ass cheeks. The stroke this gave him was small, but his penis was small and so this worked for him. He huffed and he cooed, his paws fondling her sides and the somewhat flattened mounds of her breasts as they pushed into the bed. He nuzzled her back and he grunted, "Ooh, god, that feels good."

Johanna agreed with Desmond and no part of it was a lie. Johanna was modest and kind and rather easy to please, taking pleasure from the pleasure of others. She closed her eyes but spoke softly to the foxcoon, "Will you be, ah, finishing inside of me?"

"If you'll let me, yeah," Desmond panted, still going, in fact working harder, fucking her faster. His ears were splayed back, his balls pulling taut. The foxcoon had never expected to make it so far and now he was already embarrassingly close. But he had come to know Johanna and he understood that she would not tease him. He pressed on, giddily fucking her rump, reveling in this achievement for as long as he could.

"Please do, yes," said Johanna softly, sweetly. "What you are doing, it is quite enjoyable."

Desmond pushed against the girrhino's fat gray rear many more times, his tail swishing and swaying, his toes curling. He grunted, shuddered, threw back his head and put his hips down as far as they would go; and to Desmond's credit he did bury every inch of his cock inside of her before he came. Desmond's climax was surprisingly heavy, the fox loosing many thick strands of his cum quite far into Johanna's rear - relative to his size, at least. Even then Johanna moaned as the mess was made, and she reached back, touching Desmond's flank in a gentle hand. "Good, very good, Desmond," she moaned.

"I was-, I was actually good? Did you like it?" Desmond asked, insecurity cutting into his afterglow. He pulled free of her slowly; already he was flaccid. From her anus leaked a thin white line and seeing this gave Desmond's ego a small but much-needed stroke.

"You were wonderful," cooed Johanna. "And, besides this, you satisfied me before dinner was served. Please, do not think you've disappointed me in some way." Slowly, mindful of her presence, the girrhino rolled onto her back. She meant to beckon the fox but there was no need as he pressed close to her, lying atop her sturdy frame like some kind of living teddy bear. She kissed his lips, giving no tongue but still a warm and fond smooch.

"My mom's not gonna believe I satisfied you," Desmond said, chuckling lamely. "Or that I even got inside of you."

Johanna's smile was tired but warm and ever infectious. She reached over to her nightstand and took from it a hairbrush without looking. Taking this cue, Desmond unfurled his braid, and Johanna began to brush his hair in slow strokes. Speaking just a whisper above the slow drag of the brush, Johanna said, "It does not matter what Naomi thinks. This was our night together."

"I guess that's true," Desmond admitted in a quiet, tired voice. Afterglow and cuddling made him sleepy but brushing was one of his great weaknesses. His eyes drifted shut. He murmured, "You're really special, Johanna. I like you a lot."

Her cheeks warmed with blush. She slid the brush down his hair again and cooed, "I like you as well, Desmond. I quite like you."