FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Samuel Drivas, Sammy to friends and fuckpals, went about his job with a vigor and politeness that the boss appreciated. Sammy was a red fox, the classic vulpes vulpes, and he was slim and trim and always came to work smelling clean and looking smart. His job was an ungainly but necessary one for any gym: he collected and washed the towels from the showers, cleaned the fur and hair from the drain traps, and at times scrubbed down the stalls with lemon- and pine-scented cleaning solutions. What was a surprise to most was that he did it all without complaining. Even though he only made minimum wage and only worked three hours a day, he never seemed bothered by anything at all.

The gym's proprietor, founder, and head exercise coach knew, of course, why Sammy enjoyed his work so much: he was gay. That had been obvious to her from the very beginning. He was twenty years old, had a lovely smile, and was blessed with a set of full dick-sucking jowls. Twice she'd spotted him changing uniforms because a splatter of cum soaked the seat of his shorts or the breast of his shirt. Not that this surprised Mrs. Diana Miller; the gay fox stereotype had its roots deep in truth, and the simple fact was that Sammy, while a good employee, was not a very discreet queer. His love for the stallions and bulls who showed up to pump iron was apparent, and their love for his warm mouth and his cock-milking ass was equally apparent.

Forty-two years of age, six-foot-seven, bovine and brown-furred, Diana was a model of middle-aged fitness. Being a cow endowed her with thick breasts and a big frame to hang them on. Her pinkish snout was clean of rings or jewelry, and her body at large was unblemished. She was a popular trainer who ran her gym well. She thought of herself, not without merit, as a Team Mom, although nobody called her mom except for her son and daughter, both in high school. That didn't bother Diana at all. Her smile was irrepressible and her good cheer was what made her such an effective coach. It was her belief that you caught more flies with honey, after all.

As far as employees went, Sammy was a good kid. She didn't plan to confront him about his workplace shenanigans unless they led to bad publicity, and as far as she was concerned, rumors about a girly fox happy to drain your balls after a workout was pretty good word of mouth for a gym. There was also the fact that confronting Sammy would have made a hypocrite out of her. She also liked the bulls and stallions and other boys who came in with their big muscles and occasionally big dicks. She was a woman in her prime and sported a sex drive to match her flawless MILF physique. Best of all, her milk had yet to dry up. Her daughter, younger of the pair, had not been young enough to nurse in almost fifteen years. This somehow did not stop Diana from producing, and she turned what many women would consider an inconvenience into a fetish.

A night of training and bookkeeping was just coming to an end for Mrs. Miller. Right about now, Sammy would either be finishing off his duties in the locker room or finishing some stud. Intuition told her it was the former. Sammy had struck out a few nights in a row; not all of the men who came to the gym were gay. In fact, most of them were very straight. Sammy just seemed to have inordinate luck in picking out the queer ones.

Sammy's luck running dry was just fine for Diana, who was just finishing the week's bookkeeping. Once a woman who struggled to use a smartphone, now she handled her finances with an old hand on her laptop. She turned the machine off and closed its lid. Got up, stretched, admired herself in the full-body mirror in her office, then headed to the locker room.

Sammy was stacking freshly-laundered towels onto the shelves outside the showers. He heard Mrs. Miller's heavy hooves on the floor well before he saw her, and his keen ears tweaked at the sound. He looked up with a smile - polite, nothing more - and nodded. "Hey, Mrs. Miller. Just finishing up."

"Yeah? Not staying late tonight, sweetie?" the cow asked as she leaned on the door frame. It was the only way out and her burly body blocked it totally.

Used to bigger creatures throwing their weight around, Sammy thought nothing of Diana taking up the door. He shrugged and grinned. "No reason to tonight."

The cow smiled. "That's a shame."

Sammy's grin faltered. He looked the way her son did when she confronted him over his smartass comments. "I guess it is," he said uncertainly.

Diana crossed one muscular leg over the other. Her fingers tugged at her sports bra, a sturdy charcoal-gray thing she liked so much that she had dozens more just like it in her dresser. Up it slid like a rusty garage door, moving slowly, dragging on the fur which, though sweaty, still had friction to hold with.

Sammy's eyes fixed on her breasts. An expression that was totally flat replaced his grin. Towels tumbled out of his paws. "Mrs. Miller," he said tonelessly.

The bra reached a point where the friction was not enough to hold it down and it popped up as suddenly as a window shade. Her jugs spilled free, then came to a rest after a brief jiggle. Very plump and heavy with milk, they sagged a bit but still had a certain pertness to them. "Sammy, sweetie," she said in a conversational way, a voice wholly inappropriate for a woman seducing someone, "you're such a scrawny little guy. You need some calcium."

The fox smiled stupidly. Diana supposed Sammy was the kind of boy who never encountered resistance over his sexuality. He might claim so, but she believed the worst he was ever chastised for being gay was being told no by a piece of meat he had his eyes on. Diana could not be sure, of course, but the easy way he carried himself and the utter lack of drama even when he indulged in gossip told her that he was a pampered young man. And so, advancing on Sammy with tits out, dribbles of cream falling preemptively from stiffened pink nipples, Diana believed the fox could stand to have his emotions and his sexuality twisted.

She approached until he backpedaled. His shoulder blades banged into the lockers where visitors using the shower could stow their belongings. He flinched at the clattering sound, realized he had moved himself closer to Mrs. Miller's rack, and gained an almost comical expression of panic as he slammed his shoulders into the lockers in an encore performance. "Mrs. Miller!" he cried, throwing out his paws defensively.

The cow took them, and what pretty paws they were. Every part of Sammy was well-groomed: fur soft and plush, claws trimmed, pads smooth and moisturized. She placed his paws - the black fingers of which tried defensively to curl up, causing his paws to resemble big fuzzy spiders for a moment - on her breasts and so forced his fingers back open. Sammy looked at her, eyes wide, expression overall vacuous. The fox was too shocked to be outraged. Diana had seen that before in men and it never stopped being funny.

"Oh, don't you be shy, Sammy," she cooed, her fingers cinched around his wrists like shackles. She dipped her head, touched her pink nose to the bridge of his snout and planted a kiss both sensual and delicate. "I just know you love handling big, round things."

His ears splayed back and his head dipped, his eyes looking at her tits which his paws censored in a fashion. "Mrs. Miller!" he bleated again - for the third time? Fourth time? Sammy had lost count. "Mrs. Miller, this is-, this is wrong..."

The cow smiled. Giggled. She noted Sammy's racing heartbeat by way of the blood thudding through his wrists. Breastmilk seeped into his paw pads. It rolled down the heels of his paws and fell to the floor in isolated droplets. She thought of the cum often splattered across Sammy's mitts and wondered if he could be trained to enjoy her milk the way he loved semen.

Her hands unclasped Sammy's wrists. The fox's paws stayed put as if by a force of inertia. He simply did not believe Mrs. Miller would let go, and he unhanded her two full seconds later. He looked at his milky palms and was aghast at the mess. Whining, he wiped them off on his tank top.

Mrs. Miller hooked a hand around the back of his neck and hauled him in, smashed his face against the soft cushions of her jugs. His snout vanished into her massive cleavage and she held him there, giggling, grinning. Sammy whined, bucked, and pulled his face free - really no worse for wear, but now with a spotty veneer of sweat on his fur.

"Mrs. Miller," he gasped, like a student trying to plead his case over a failing grade.

She pinched him on his ass - cute and round and simply irresistible - and leveled her eyes on his. "That's my name. Don't wear it out," she scoffed. "Now have a drink, sweetie." She pulled him in again, but more purposefully. Her fingers cinched around the back of his neck in a move he found menacing but in a way he believed he was merely imagining. He knew how strong Mrs. Miller was, yet he had never thought her capable of violence.

Sammy's jowly lips touched her left tit whether he wanted them to or not. He kept his lips pursed and looked up at her with an expression of confusion.

"Go on," the cow said, keeping the victorious grin she wanted to show off of her snout; she presented only a warm smile to the fox. "Suck, sweetheart. Just have a little drink... see if you like it, and you can go if not."

The fox did not suck at first. His lips were parted forcibly around her nipple and his tongue pressed against its nub. Thick cream, warm and rather flavorless oozed across his taste buds. He felt the throb of her nipple in his tongue. It was too easy to think of penis right now: a thick glans against his tongue, precum drizzling over his taste buds, and then he would suck gladly. Sometimes until the big sticky mess came. Sometimes until the stud decided to bend him over and wear his ass out.

Sammy suckled her nipple. He shuddered the first time he did so. It was as if his body wanted to reject this woman. He was gay, so gay that he had never bothered to be intimate with a woman. Mouthing Mrs. Miller made him feel self-conscious of his homosexuality in a way he had never been before, but he was less disgusted than he expected to be. When her cream began to spurt into his mouth, helped along by his sucks, he found that it was easy to swallow it down. It soothed his throat and belly; it was enjoyable without eroticism.

"Atta boy, Sammy," cooed the cow, gaining a hint of a grin. "Oh, such a good boy... you suck that titty. Drink all you want. This cow's got plenty to give."

As the gay fox nursed, Diana's burly hands slithered down Sammy's flanks. Under his shirt and across downy fur, touching a slender body she wished to have heaving against hers. A fine body for a fine fox. It was readily apparent why the queers who came to her gym loved Sammy so much.

"Good boy, Sammy," cooed the cow, and then she began to hum a soft lullaby. His sucking lips took her back to early motherhood and brought the lullaby out of storage just as fresh as the day she packed it away. She palmed his bottom, grasped his tail and stroked the thick brush of its stalk. Its fur sluiced easily through her fingers. She said sweetly between the verses of her lullaby, "Your tail's so soft, really envy you foxy boys with your big bushy tails."

"Mm," Sammy said in non-reply. He was dreamy, suckling happily, mouth smacking between sucks. His tail swished when it was not in Diana's grasp.

The cow loved the pressure of Sammy's soft jowl-lips. The occasional prick of teeth was a minor annoyance; the toughness raising two little ones had imbued her nipples with had vanished along with her youth, leaving nipples which were again tender to the touch and tooth. But she forgave the fox, and she marveled at how easily he had been lured in. Actually getting sex out of him would still be a chore, she guessed, but giving him a gut full of tit milk was still a victory.

"Sammy-Sam," cooed Mrs. Miller, smiling as sweetly as she had when she first beheld her children, "won't you be a good boy and do a little favor for your mama?"

For a moment Sammy continued to suck and Diana thought she would have to pry the fox off, break him from some Oedipal trance. Then he pulled back, not swallowing but letting a mouth full of cream run down his chin. Whether this was ignorance or indulgence, Diana had no clue. But she thought it was sexy.

"Yeah, sure," he said in a nearly drunken voice. "But can I have more of that?" His dreamy eyes indicated her breast.

"Of course, honey," Diana chuckled, taken by surprise. Never had she denied a boytoy some milk; it saved her the trouble of pumping them by herself. She called it a win-win. "Now Sammy. You be a good boy and take off those shorts for me."

The fox's gaze cleared somewhat. It made Diana think of highbeams coming on, cutting through dense fog. He said mildly, "Mrs. Miller, you know I don't, um... go for women."

The cow tickled his milk-covered chin. She kissed him on the lips and he looked at her, startled but clearly not repulsed. Speaking with the verbal equivalent of a mountain of sugar, she said, "I know what you love, Sammy. I know how just to treat a boy like you. Bend over, show me that little pucker and just trust me, you are gonna have a big smile on this handsome face of yours."

Sammy blushed, grinned. A positive development as far as the cow was concerned. He moved back from her, this time without banging into the lockers. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts. Coyly, "What makes you so sure I like having my ass eaten?"

Diana regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "And who said anything about eating ass?" She jabbed a finger into his chest. Going a step further, she doled her thick, slobbery bovine tongue out of her mouth like a length of fire hose, then drew it back before a single droplet of drool fell from its pink surface. She was certain she saw lust in Sammy's eyes. "Just because I can break a pencil with my tongue doesn't mean I'm gonna shove it up your butt."

The young fox was through with coyness and innuendo. He asked, somewhat hurt, "You're not?"

Mrs. Miller laughed. "Oh, for god's sake, Sammy. Yes, I'm going to eat your ass. Show it to me already."

Plainly feeling stupid and more than a bit unnerved, Sammy slid down his shorts, exposing a modest and entirely flaccid penis, uncircumcised and of a healthy pink shade. Not the worst cock Diana Miller had ever seen, not at all. The trick would be getting him to use it, but she had her ways.

She did a lasso twirl with her finger. "Turn around."

Sammy's big grin matched his blush. He was plainly embarrassed. "I haven't gotten naked for a woman since my last doctor visit," he confessed.

"Well I'll bet the finger she put up your ass didn't feel half as good as my tongue will," said Diana, hands on her sturdy hips. "Turn around, sugar, and pry apart those butt cheeks. Pretend I'm some bull with a prick hanging down to my knee, why don't you?"

"That would make this easier," Sammy admitted, not without some playfulness. He stepped out of his shorts, kicked them aside and turned sharply. His first thought was to put his paws on the lockers and just lift his trail, but Mrs. Miller had given specific instructions. Not for the first time in his life, Sammy grasped the fine cheeks of his bubble butt and he pulled them apart, opening the deep crevasse of his ass crack. Down in the middle, winking and tight, was his small pink anus.

"Now that's a good-looking hole," Diana huffed. She knelt behind the blushing fox and gladly took over the duty of holding open his ass cheeks. In fact she held them even further apart, taking Sammy to the edge of pain, but she suspected the boy liked a little rough handling. "Now I'm willing to bet you have boys tonguing your pucker all the time, but I have the feeling this is still gonna wow you."

"Then wow me already," Sammy retorted, now bracing his paws on the lockers.

The cow brushed her wide pink nose through Sammy's ass crack. She subtly smelled him, that fine anal musk mingled with a few other male scents; the smell of many good lays was heavy on the fox. She blew a steamy breath across his anal ring and listened, delighted, as Sammy cooed a moan.

Eyes closing, tail flicking, Mrs. Miller paid out some tongue and prodded its hot, slobbery tip to the rim of Sammy's asshole. At first her tongue wriggled, slopping around the pucker, smearing on drool as thick as jam. Then she brought in her thumbs, planting them on the edge of his anus. Gently she pulled at it, coaxing its rim into an oblong shape. This she was able to dig her tongue into and the fox crooned as one inch of cow tongue after another began to drill its way into his anal passage.

"Oh-, ho, fuck," Sammy quivered. "Mrs. Miller, wow..." As quick as that, her sex ceased to matter; Sammy was gaining an erection. He cooed from his milk-stained lips, "Oh my god, your tongue, it's so, so big..."

A deep rumbling sound rose in Mrs. Miller's chest and throat. It resonated in her tongue and the wide pink stalk softly vibrated inside of Sammy's anus. The fox whined, crooned. Giddy queer sounds rolled past his cocksucking lips. The cow fondled him, groping round buttocks, brushing fingertips over his hardening penis. Precum dribbled from its tip like the droplets of milk falling from her breasts.

Her pink lips pressed into the warm fur dressing Sammy's rear. Her nostrils smelled him but her tongue dug into him like a fleshy shovel, not lapping but scooping inside of the fox, laying down ribbons of slobber and wedging apart trained anal muscles, spurring Sammy to whimper and whine. Soon the fox was pushing back, implicitly begging for more tongue, and the cow was only too happy to give Sammy everything that she had to offer. Soon every inch was deep inside of his rump, flopping inside of him like a beached salmon, slopping everywhere it could slop, tasting every inch of musky young fox ass it could taste.

A gratified smile was large on Sammy's narrow snout. His ears, splayed down; his eyes, rolled back in their sockets. From his cock came regular emissions of precum, dousing Diana's teasing fingers. His shapely legs wobbled, knees almost knocking.

Vulgar hunger drove Diana to eat Sammy's ass harder and deeper. She gripped his hips and pulled him back and shoved her snout forward, and she cheated a little more of her tongue into the fox. Flat cud-chewing teeth ground against the fox and thick drool oozed into orange fur; but Diana's tongue raked inside of him like a beckoning arm, wallowing out Sammy's ass into a wet cavern.

"You're-, you are good at this," Sammy said in a quavering voice. "Ooh shit. Shit..."

Diana knew the desperate tone. She had never heard it from Sammy, but from a dozen boys like him. The idea of making him pop from a deep rimjob appealed but working the fox back up to the peak so she could get her own rocks off was more work than the cow wanted to put in. She plucked her tongue free of Sammy; the fox whined as he felt its exit and he clenched possessively. Its surface was too smooth and slick to grip and it popped out with a wet smack. Sammy groaned at the feeling of this sudden exit and his anus remained rather gaped, and inside it was a slimy pink hollow full of cow slobber. He looked back at her needfully. She smiled at him and stood up.

"Anybody can enjoy a tongue up the butt," Mrs. Miller cryptically said. She tugged down her shorts to bare her mature loins. A thick brown bush obscured plump pussylips, but what was not obscured was the scent. No longer covered by her gym shorts, her sweaty musk was easily smelled by the nearby fox. Not even the musky scent of his gaped anus could overwhelm the heady reek of Mrs. Miller's sex. Things only worsened when the cow reached down and spread the lips. Though difficult to see with such a bush in the way, her pussy opened wide and pink, and with its spread came an even more vulgar smell.

Sammy turned and straightened slowly. His penis, still stiff, dribbled precum and throbbed, but his eyes stared dubiously at Mrs. Miller's groin. "I-I don't know about this," he murmured, clasping his paws behind his back.

"Oh Sammy," cooed the cow, batting her eyelashes amorously. "You've got a belly full of my milk and your butt is stuffed with my saliva. When are you gonna stop acting coy about this and admit that a woman is turning you on?"

His cheeks warmed and his gaze fell to the floor. He looked up only when Mrs. Miller came near, and she pressed a finger past his milky lips. The blush on his cheeks worsened as he realized he was tasting her pussy secondhand; that this wet and almost fishy taste should have been repulsive beyond words but was instead a curiosity. He suckled on her digit and he found himself reaching for her. He touched her hip and paused. Mrs. Miller said with some excitement, "Don't be shy, Sammy. Go ahead."

Mrs. Miller wondered how many men Sammy touched on a monthly basis. Six, seven? A dozen perhaps? She had only ever caught glimpses of his seductions, when he lured the boys away with a wiggle of his tush, a flick of his big paintbrush of a tail. It stood to reason that he was confident when he had them alone, and it was something she thought about often. His virginal shyness in merely touching her hips was so cute that she wanted desperately to comment on it; she settled for ruffling him between his ears while she worked her finger into his maw until it pricked the back of his throat. He didn't gag, and that was no surprise.

Sammy's black paws slid over the broad curves of the cow's hips, and through the warm fat he couldn't feel even a hint of bone. His digits trailed to her groin, which the shape of her body seemed to lead him towards. Sammy shivered when his fingers dragged through her bush. Sweat clung to its curly hairs like morning dew on a lawn. He kept feeling, combing his way through her coarse pubes, and then his dark pads chanced upon her sex. He began to recoil, but slowly, as if he had suddenly realized how unlike himself he was behaving.

She slid the finger from his maw and cupped his shoulders. While he stared at her with naive eyes, she cooed to him, "You're doing so good, Sammy. So good."

The fox managed a smile, but his ears were flat and his cheeks were warm with blush. Further down, his penis was still a stiff root poking from his loins, beads of precum dripping from its tip.

Diana pecked a kiss on his lips. He hesitated, then kissed back. Like a vampire invited into a home, Diana slipped her tongue confidently into his maw. Just a few inches, just a tease, but Sammy relaxed against her muscular bulk. The flavor of his own body, his own ass, reminded Sammy of other encounters - ones with men. It calmed him however slightly.

As she drew back her tongue, Mrs. Miller met and kept Sammy's gaze. The fox peered at her with what seemed a mix of admiration and shyness, and this made him almost unbearably precious to the motherly cow.

"Over here, sugar," she said softly, while nudging Sammy toward the benches he had wiped down a thousand times. Under her guidance he laid down on the bench supine, legs parted and feet on the floor. The smile was gone from his face, but his ears were still splayed, his penis still very stiff.

"I, uh, I don't know about this, Mrs. Miller," muttered Sammy, who watched the cow peel off the sports bra she had previously only tugged out of the way. Her statuesque form in all its nude glory gave even the queer fox pause. He stared at no single part of her, eyes instead drifting from head to hooves. He murmured, "God, you look-... you look pretty amazing."

Diana smiled. She batted her eyelashes. "I thought you were gay."

"Well, I-, I am," Sammy mumbled. Then he seemed to realize how absurd it was to say that with his ass full of a woman's saliva and while his cock throbbed at the sight of her naked body. He looked away, but then Diana laughed, and the sweet sound of it drew his gaze back.

"Sammy, you're just about the cutest little thing I've ever had my hands on. Hope you know I'm not pulling your leg about that." She stepped over the prone fox. Slowly she lowered herself, mindful not only of the fox's delicate sensibilities but also his delicate bones; men loved to joke that they'd gladly let her snap a few, but she doubted if any of them would actually enjoy it.

Under all of the coarse brown hair of her bush, Mrs. Miller's sex was a plush, soft thing. Its pink lips brushed the fox's penis, seemed to kiss it with their damp spread. She watched Sammy's face as he watched the action; he bit his lip, and he cringed when her pussy touched him.

With a complete virgin Diana would have taken things slower. Sammy being new only to pussy uncomplicated things, and she gently lowered her body, impaling herself on his modest cock. She had been with some very well-hung men but her vagina was taut; Mrs. Miller included kegels in her regimen. She could feel the fox's foreskin sliding back, the blunt pink mushroom of his glans opening her vagina's humid channel pleasantly. She moaned and grabbed Sammy's wrists. She pried his paws off of the edges of the bench and placed their soft pads on her tits, and this time the fox palmed and fondled her breasts without need for coaching.

The cow's loins bumped Sammy's hips and he grunted under her weight. His paws squeezed her tits and he looked at her with need in his eyes. She smiled at him, keeping her smug satisfaction out of her expression, keeping it motherly and sweet. To the fox she cooed, "That's what you've been missing out on, sweetheart. You want me to get off, or-?"

"No, please," Sammy whined. "Keep going..."

She laughed, but it was sweet, very good-natured. She gave his head a pat, and then she started to bounce on his hips, putting down enough weight with every drop that the bench creaked underneath. Sammy at first grunted and gasped, but as time went by and he came to savor the wet, hot grip of her sex, he also found himself enjoying her heavy bulk. His shapely legs drifted further apart, claws scraping on the glazed tiles, and he rolled her nipples in his fingers, tuning them and coaxing milk from their pink nubs.

Despite the disparity in their sizes, Mrs. Miller's pleasure was genuine. Even a gay fox like Sammy understood how incredibly wet she was; her natural lubrication dribbled onto his loins like warm honey, and her bovine musk dirtied the air. She watched the way he sampled the smell, nostrils flaring slightly, his exhalations through his maw as if he didn't want to blow out the bouquet of her musk. He brought a milk-soaked paw to his muzzle and he indulgently licked the cream from his fur like a kitten.

Still bucking down, crushing her plush muff against Sammy's boyish loins, Diana doubled herself over and gripped the bench in a burly hand. She kissed the fox's lips and uttered a low croon of pleasure. She meted out few inches of her tongue and licked his lips which quickly parted, permitting her muscular tongue and the foamy slobber which caked its surface. He lewdly sucked her tongue while he stroked his milky paw over her head and along the side of her neck.

Sammy's eyes were closed, but he was in tune with the cow. He pushed with his athletic legs to meet her every so often when she came down. He was no stallion, certainly not a bull, but his cock teased the wet, silken walls of her vagina. The cow doled out a little bit more tongue, and it wriggled in his maw, overfilling it, sending mingled drool oozing out from between the fox's jowls. Sammy squirmed anxiously the way virgins always did underneath the cow. He pawed at her indiscriminately, fuzzy fingers roaming from broad shoulders to full breasts to wide, child-bearing hips and round ass cheeks dewy with sweat.

Mrs. Miller slurped her tongue out of his maw and a ribbon of foamy saliva loped across his snout and face. Still more drool bridged their maws, glinting in the cool florescent light. Sammy vacated maw gasped air. He kissed her face, and he whined between the smooches, "Oh, fuck, I'm almost-!"

She quieted him with a quick but gentle shushing, and she cradled his head in her hand. Raised herself slightly, pulled him in, and instinct did the rest: Sammy latched onto her tit, the same one as before, and he suckled nourishing cream from the tap. As he swallowed her milk his breathing slowed, but he still pushed his hips at her, and he still groped and pawed at her great, sweaty body, fondling her in greedy, broad gestures.

"Good boy, such a good little foxy boy," moaned Mrs. Miller as she held Sammy's head, rubbed his crown and the edge of a flitting ear with her thumb. Still bouncing, bringing down that heavy body, giving him more and more weight. The bench protested but held; Sammy seemed to have no complaints either. He still suckled at her tit, his nursing in fact growing bolder, coaxing more milk from the seemingly endless reservoir of the cow's breast.

There was a prickle in the cow's loins, a familiar sensation like a charge in her flesh as she neared orgasm. She clenched her teeth, huffed through them, closed her eyes. Around Sammy's modest penis, her vaginal walls were taut but slick. The bench's joints wheezed under the repetitious drops from the cow, but the fox between it and her only pushed back and squeezed her broad, round buttocks.

"Aw, gawd, Sammy," Diana said in a shuddering voice. She kept pinning him down, crushing him into the bench. She thought for sure she was bruising him, but if he didn't complain, she wasn't about to stop. And even if he had, she wasn't sure she would have quit when she was so close.

A few times Sammy had been with a powerbottom like Mrs. Miller - but always a male of course. He enjoyed ass, enjoyed taking it in his ass even more; but pussy was a sexual epiphany for the fox. He had never experienced anything so wet and hot, and he found he loved the rest of the cow too: her enormous, milk-filled breasts, her plush bottom, and her dexterous tongue. Inside of Diana his penis pulsed, twitched. His foreskin was rolled smoothly back, his naked cock drenched in her lubricating juices and heated by her vagina. He popped his lips off of her tit. Milk spilled down his chin, down the curve of her breast. He bleated, "Oh-, oh fuck, Mrs. Miller-." Then Sammy came, spilling rope after rope of thick vulpine cream into the cow. He bucked against her as he shot his wad, and his toes curled. His tail curled and spiraled and batted at the floor. His eyes rolled back and he cringed with pleasure, arching his back away from the bench.

Diana felt his release and watched his handsome young face contort in pleasure. The size of his load was nothing special but knowing it came from a gay boy was a treat. He was trying to fuck her as he came and she hung there, letting him work, letting him satisfy them both with the same energetic strokes. She huffed softly, feeling the pleasure grow, that electric tingle growing sharper and hotter. She caressed his head, which she held despite his mouth no longer suckling her tit.

"God, Sammy, you're a good kid, you're a great kid," the cow said, panting as she spoke. Sammy's hips slowed and the cow lowered him to the bench, then rammed her loins down on his hips. Spent cum sloshed inside of her, leaked out around the fox's still stiff penis like cream from some overfilled pastry. She held onto the bench in both hands and she bounced on him with everything she had, knowing she didn't have long before he became too tender and too soft. Her enormous breasts joggled in front of his face, milk dripping from their nipples which he caught with a lazy, rolled-out tongue, as if catching snowflakes.

Underneath the cow, Sammy began to squirm and whine. She shushed him, said to him, "Couple more-, couple more seconds, baby doll, mama's almost done."

"Oh, god, this is fucking amazing," Sammy said, voice quavering. "Mrs. Miller, you're incredible..."

The cow grinned, blushed. She was there at last, just when Sammy had nothing more to give. She smashed her box down against his loins; the bench creaked and the fox wheezed. But then Diana was still, and her cunt seized on his cock, which had begun to soften. She groaned, arched her back, and uttered a braying cry terribly close to a moo. Milk spurted from her perked nipples and so did a thick and musky ejaculate erupt from her vagina. It doused Sammy's loins and made him smell unmistakably of cow pussy.

Sammy watched the awesome sight of Diana's orgasmic snakedance, the way she writhed and undulated and smeared herself against his boyish loins. He reached out with a fairly limp paw and brushed her mostly flat belly. Then he cupped her thigh, and he closed his eyes, falling against the bench with a huff.

"Good lord," breathed the cow. "Oh, mama needed that." Warmed by afterglow, feeling a love for the fox which was both maternal and lustful, Diana Miller laid on the fox and pecked kisses on his snout with her full, warm lips. Sammy returned them in kind, occasionally locking lips and brushing tongues with her, but never anything so lewd as what had accompanied their lovemaking.

Finally the fox said the obvious: "I guess I'm bi, huh?"

Diana winked a soulful eye at him. "Like the song goes, sweetheart. Take a walk on the wild side."

Sammy considered this. "Guess I never gave women a chance." He hooked his arms around her back. She was so big and broad that his paws barely met in the middle. He smooched her pink nose then asked sweetly, "Think we can do this again, or was that a one-time-only deal?"

She nuzzled the crook of his neck and shoulder. Warm, spent semen dripped from her, glazing Sammy's groin. "Could always use some strapping young man to fold my towels and clean the drain trap at my house." She kissed his lips and smiled. "Just don't forget about your boys here. Don't want business to suffer because you suddenly decided you like pussy."

At this, Sammy sunk into thought again. But he smiled roguishly, and he winked back. "No, no. I know I have my job still. And there's plenty of good-looking women who work out here, too."

The cow suppressed a laugh. She had created a monster. That was fine by her. "Just don't forget who broke you in."

He kissed her nose. "Never, Mrs. Miller."