FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

LomiDePuzlo

Radia sat back with her legs spread, one hand at her mouth and the other working steadily, deliberately between her thighs. Again and again little shocks of sensation and pleasure rippled up her body, all of her muscles tightening together and making her lurch forward so that she had to carefully sit back again - and wince time and time again as the cold of the back of the toilet pressed in through short fur and against soft skin. This was a bit harder than she had expected, and yet it felt so, so good.

Dangerous, though: she knew she constantly toed the line here, pressure even more palpable in her lower belly than it had been when she had first closed and locked the bathroom door behind her. The awareness had grown into a need, and then from a need into a sweet, evasive desire, as she had stripped all her clothes off in preparation, sat back, and began in at herself, weight of her bladder pulling her down and visibly bulging out, she imagined, in her lower belly. A shiver worked its way up her back, and yet again she nipped at her finger between her teeth with the others slid up and down, slick and wet, and then sank in to the knuckle.

That sensation itself was nearly enough to push her over the edge, as she tugged up and pulled back a bit. Tingling pressure and burgeoning need bordering on discomfort - yet all constrained behind this sweet, intoxicating pleasure rippling up and out at every touch of her fingers, every swirl and press, every little brush against her clit. She could sworn she had let out a few dribbles on accident, but of course it was hard to tell: naturally her hand had gotten soaked to the knuckles from her distraction here, some ten minutes or so already spent behind the door working herself steadily further towards a peak yet holding back at the last moment.

Once more she bit at her finger and leaned back, letting the twitches and convulsions and throes of enjoyment bounce back and forth through her. This was the hardest part, as each wave made her tighten up and then relax, tighten and relax again - and she had to put deliberate, focused effort into keeping herself from emptying out right then and there.

Not that this would have been a bad thing. In fact, that was part of the fun, and a source of her excitement with the whole thing - the risk and possibility that at any moment she might lose control, that she might push herself over the edge and end up painting the inside of the toilet bowl, her inner thighs, and her entire hand with fresh mark forced out along a finish. It had happened several times before even when she thought she _didn't_have anything to give, and now that she could actually feel the weight and urgency of an overfull bladder, sloshing and swirling with the motion of her hand between her legs steadily getting back into a rhythm, thumb lifted beneath her belly and fingers swirling around, pressing in, sinking deep, coming back.

Again and again she squeezed around herself, body wanting and trying to curl forward into the sensation despite her trying to stay up. One of her legs kicked and she gasped, and then another burst of enjoyment flooded through her - and this time Radia felt a clear, distinct burst of wet heat spray and trickle down between her fingers and into the toilet underneath her, the water already misty and foggy with dripping arousal and whatever else had dribbled out of her.

She shivered and tightened up again, teeth gritted and every muscle in her body tense, but - now that it had started there was no way she could stop. Squeezing and deliberate tension led to her knees coming together, her ears flicking back, her tail curling around the base of the toilet, but the longer it went on the more that urgency turned to discomfort, to a hot, sizzling sensation, and then - with a shudder and jerk Radia bucked back, that first trickle opening up into a wider, fuller spray, hot and sharp against her fingers.

"Ah-"

A shudder bounced up her back, and even as her bladder started to forcefully drain itself still she resumed her focused, fingers working around and through the spray from its source. Slick, wet heat sprayed back and forth, only partially contained within the toilet, as she teased her fingers back and forth over her clit, repeatedly interrupting and messing things further. Right here at the edge of her peak, enticement and arousal growing, bubbling, simmering with the awareness of what she was doing, the relief and sensation of draining her bladder, the nervousness and excitement of feeling all of this emptying out against and over her hand and fingers, and...

Yet again she tightened, jerked, gasped - kicked, and for a moment her stream pinched off only to then burst forward again. Another breathy moan pushed its way from deep within her throat, followed by a second and a third, and the force of her orgasm spraying her mark out into the water of the toilet actually caused it to splash back up against her. Again and again her body tightened like this, the throes of her peak shocking through her and spraying out between her fingers, soaking her fur in hot, dripping mark, dribbling down, splashing back; even when she tried to spread herself to focus the mess downwards, the sensation of it still made her buck and squirm, and before long she realized she had sprayed across the tile floor in front of the base of the toilet, and along the seat itself as well.

Finally, though, the sweet intensity of her peak trickled away, but still her bladder remained half-full. Panting softly, doubled over herself, Radia settled into place and dropped her head, the scent of her own mark wafting up and around her as she just gave into the relief now, one leg still twitching and tail flicking around.

After emptying out and catching her breath she straightened up again, tossed her head, and looked around at the mess she had made. As usual, the act itself had been a hell of a time, but then the cleanup that came afterwards... she sighed, stood up, and then had to catch herself on the sink counter as her legs shook and wobbled beneath her.

Definitely something to try again. Maybe outside where cleanup wouldn't be an issue.

Daet Wolfuar

Eric's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he couldn't quite figure out where he was. The arrangement of this room felt unfamiliar to him, and the angle and color of the sunlight coming in through the window matched neither morning nor afternoon back in his own dorm, to say nothing of the odd, rich scent that permeated the bed and blankets and air all around... with a grunt and grumble the marten lifted his head, smacked his lips, and swallowed through a dry throat.

There had been a party last night, hadn't there? At someone's place off campus. So this wasn't even his dorm at all. That would explain the arrangement of furniture, with the wide armchair sitting there in the sun-puddle cast through the open curtains and the framed painting above the other wall... the fact that the bedroom had a door at all, which he vaguely recalled locking at some point last night.

He had dreamt about a tiger. That much he recalled, through the headache that more ground and pressed at him than pounded, and the general haze of only a few hours of sleep in an unfamiliar place. Smooth, twisting black stripes on a field of sunfire orange, melting to a sweeter, richer white in front... Eric could even recall his scent, so strong, so real, and the way it had changed as he worked his way steadily down his body and then right back up in the dream, little marten paws pressing and running, touching and exploring, and-

A noise from the spot in the bed beside him caught his ears and drew his head down, and for a moment Eric couldn't quite recognize what was going on there. First came the brief shock and realization that he had indeed shared his night with someone, followed by the smug satisfaction that he could still feel that night tingling in the muscles of his thighs and beneath the base of his tail, and then... then his tired, worked brain started to actually put things together. Beneath the blankets here, between and underneath sheets, glimmered soft orange fur striped with black; the tiger sniffed again, shifted, and rolled over onto his other side, now showing a broad, smooth swathe of these same colors, creased in places by the line of his shoulder, the back of his neck, the hints of muscle underneath.

Skylar, his name was. Eric remembered that. Images and impressions from the previous night steadily coming back to him now, the marten sat up against the wall, pillow behind him, and reached down to run his paw with fingers spread along the sleeping tiger's shoulder and revealed arm. What a night it had been, too, after so many small, glancing connections made across this semester and the previous, when they had finally come together and met last night. Last night beneath the cover of others' conversations, and pounding music, and the twisting, swirling aromas of so many students caught in this one space, with food and alcohol and smoke and a handful of oil diffusers set up in an attempt to combat the inevitable, and...

Beside him Skylar stirred again, let out a low, rumbling huff, and then slowly reached one of his much larger, meatier paws up to lightly encase Eric's on his shoulder. He turned his head and there glittered smooth, olive green eyes in the light casting down from the window, the tiger just barely half awake but still as lovely as he had been the night before, even with his whiskers rumpled and messy and fur matted.

"Hey," the older male rumbled - since older he was. When Eric had first seen him in a hallway over in the life science building he had assumed Skylar was a professor he hadn't yet met. "You're still here. I thought you had been a dream."

Yet again, just as he had throughout the entirety of the night leading up to this lovely morning, Skylar surprised him. Eric chuckled behind his other paw, tail giving a flick beneath the blankets. Most of the guys he spent the night with, especially following raucous parties or "arrangements" such as this, either disappeared by the time he woke up, wouldn't meet his eyes for a week after, or would ask when he would leave so they could get back to what they really needed to do.

This tiger, however... he moved and spoke and held himself like a father - that much was quite evident, and certainly the face he put on and wore as a matter of course - but there was still so much more to him. Their night had begun like any other, trailing here into the bedroom along the tails of intoxication both alcoholic and sexual, Eric climbing up into his lap, pushing him down by the shoulders, giggling as they each got a touch, a feel, a taste of each other... and that was where it deviated, in such a simple thing as Skylar asking about a condom.

One round, slow and steady and heavy, slid into a second and then into a third, then to a brief session in the shower... Eric was used to getting bent over and pounded there, gritting his teeth under the uncomfortable grip and roughness of water on top of whatever lube his tops had chosen, but with Skylar it had been slow and gentle touches and investigation, wandering paws, poking fingers, nipping lips and flicking tongue. They had talked, and laughed, and learned each others' majors and interested. Skylar was returning to complete his bachelor's degree after a fifteen-year interruption, while Eric was there to break onto the developer scene, and...

He liked lilies. The marten looked across the room to that framed picture hanging on the wall, just above the dresser. One from Van Gogh's series.

The tiger stretched his arms over his head, shook in that sweet pleasure, and then briefly gave voice to a wide yawn, showing off the sharp whitish teeth that Eric had so thoroughly explored the previous night. After a moment he shook himself out again, wiped at his eyes, then moved to sit up, sheets falling from his chest.

"So," the tiger rumbled, "I take it someone like you has somewhere you need to be?"

Eric thought about that for a moment. "Yeah," he answered. Skylar's ear flicked. "That little breakfast diner down Main."

Skylar turned his head away. "Ah. Meeting someone?"

"Yeah." Eric reached over for the tiger's paw again. "You."

Ruari

Vera watched, smirk on her face, as the striped hyena above her took another hit, eyes half-lidded and pierced lip glistening in the dim light of the room. One of the possum's paws rested along Ruari's waist while the other made its way slowly, idly up and down her side, following the jagged lines of charcoal stripes over the field of snow there. Soft fur on top of softer skin, and then beneath that, smooth yet taut cords of muscle honed and refined from long dedication hidden there. It was like reaching out to touch a plush armchair, only to find stiff, firm wood beneath.

Not that that was a bad thing. The possum's smirk deepened as Ruari drew her paw away and tilted her head back, throat briefly bulging with the faint weight of the smoke. Vera drew her fingers up and along the front of that bared throat, earning a flash of amber eyes and sharp teeth from the hyena atop her before she continued down along her chest, the solid sternum, the smooth, broad arc of first one breast and then the other, thumb playing over the nub of shimmering metal hanging from each nipple. This last touch gave the hyena a shiver and a rumble deep in her throat, and as she turned her head down and grinned at her trapped victim, thin lines of cool smoke curled from between her fangs.

"That's a dangerous move," Ruari purred, and started to lean in. More of that smoke wafted up and around her sharp muzzle; this close Vera could smell the stuff on her breath, high and sharp, intoxicating and tantalizing.

"Yeah?" She licked her lips and tilted her muzzle up as well, turning her paw to gently pinch that nipple and piercing between a thumb and the side of her forefinger. "Why's that?"

One hyena paw pressed into the bed near the possum's shoulder while the other tilted her chin up, holding her in place for her approach. Ruari's tongue flicked out and up across her lips, the piercing through that clinking gently along the ones in her lower lip. "You'll make me want more."

"That doesn't really seem like..." Vera swallowed, let her eyes drift shut, and gave another tug as smoke, lips, and tongue trickled down first across, against, and then into her mouth. "...a problem..."

There they met, parted, and then met again, one of the possum's paws caught in between them just as her tongue flicked up and forward over Ruari's. The hyena met here there and then stilled, though, and only then did Vera feel her breath wafting back out, warm and steady, filling her maw from the hyena's lungs and then twisting, swirling down into her own, carrying the essence of the smoke along with it, twining them together so that she too could taste and feel it. Her cheeks swelled out for a moment and she pulled in as Ruari continued to exhale directly into her mouth, until the kiss finally pinched off with another twirl of the tongue and pinch of the lips, warm metal nipping along soft flesh.

She couldn't help but lick her lips afterwards, Ruari's saliva clinging gently against the skin there. Vera arched her back and felt the smoke and breath as it filled her throat and lungs, warm and comfortable, bearing that slight tickle and twinge that it always did. One more tug at Ruari's pierced nipple and then both paws spread out along her body, coming out towards her sides again and along her waist, one shifting back to the base of her tail, the other coming forward and down... and a moment later wrapping sweetly, gently around heavy, twitching arousal, warmth atop Vera's own.

Ruari gave a slow thrust forward and down in response. Vera rumbled in her throat, swallowed down a twitch and tingle from the smoke making its mark against her throat, and then slid her thumb in and underneath her own length, lifting herself up and against the hyena's on top of her. A squeeze, a stroke, a thrust of her own, and then she tilted her head to the side and let Ruari's breath back out of her lungs, the smoke at this point wispy and faint.

"Hey." The possum tilted her head to the side, nosing towards Ruari's paw still pressed into the bed. "Let me have a turn."

Ruari flashed another grin, then shifted her balance so she could offer the device towards Vera beneath her. She held it carefully in place for the possum to lift her head, lean forward, and wrap her lips around it, then draw a slow, deep breath... all the while shifting and grinding her hips forward and down in rhythm, thick foreskin drawing forward and back against and along the possum's piercing there, warm metal on warmer skin. As she sucked along hot, fizzling air, the smoke now coming brighter and fuller than when she had taken it secondhand, Vera turned her paw a bit, folded her thumb over her forefinger, and drew the lower lip of Ruari's supple skin up and over her piercing, for a moment rubbing and wiping slick natural arousal over her head before letting her go again.

Then, satisfied, she leaned back, rolled her tongue around in her mouth, let the smoke swirl and soften, and tilted her head back to let it billow free, both paws making their way back to the hyena's tail. Firm fingers dug into soft, plush fur and flesh there, at once tugging her down and spreading her rump. Gentle fingers teased in there, poking and touching, circling around...

Ruari flashed a pierced grin again. "Didn't save any for me? And here I took the time to share."

"Oh." Vera dove in for a quick kiss. "Oh, my. My mistake. I guess I'll just have to try again," and she squeezed and tugged, intentionally grinding up once more, "right?"

Ruari chuckled and wriggled her hips side to side. "I guess you will."