FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Our dad didn't come home for dinner, again. Not even his twin sons' eighteenth birthday was enough to pull him from his office at the Crossroads City Chronicle. Not that it bothered me.

Jackson did seem upset at first, but I helped distract him from the fact our father loved his job (and appearances) more than he loved us, especially my twin. As for me? I held sincere fucking doubts. But it didn't matter anyway.

"Fuck, Dad!" I politely informed him. "Fuck him and the senile old mammals that keep reading his newspapers. We can go make love to a cactus."

"What you said," Jackson mumbled. He stood up to take his empty plate, followed by our father's full one, and brought it into the kitchen. As he did so, the solemn Dalmatian gave a defeated sigh. "I thought he would at least care enough to keep his promise like he said he would."

Having already eaten the last scraps of (seriously delicious) meatloaf, I followed closely behind my twin. I tried thinking of the best thing to say to him. For now, I just remained silent.

The Alnwick Mansion never really felt like a home. A family lived inside it, but not a functional one. No one looking in from the gates, then walking inside to marvel at the interior kitchen's granite countertops or the expensive appliances, would ever think our family was broken. Most of our classmates liked being envious of our wealthy lifestyle, unaware of the caveats that came with it. Rather than seeing it as a lavish mansion, to me, it always felt like a prison. A well-furnished prison at that, but still a prison for eighteen years. Like Rapunzel's tower in a fucked-up fairy tale.

Once upon a time, a successful Dalmatian married a beautiful Dalmatian. She loved him very much and he did too. Together, they became a power couple in the uptown scene of Crossroads City, Utah. She loved to host parties and brought out the best in everyone, including her husband and their twin cubs. A pair of Dalmatian brothers who loved their mother and their father. Then, the leukemia took her away from their lives, and poisoned their father too. Suddenly, he no longer smiled. He placed so much pressure on his sons, eventually neglecting one while pushing for the other to be his golden child, expecting him to follow in his own footsteps. The other twin (me) only served as a disappointment to him. In the years since the funeral, they all lived unhappily ever fucking after.

We discarded our plates and utensils into the dishwasher. Jackson continued standing in front of the kitchen's metallic sink, staring at the ornate backsplash. I paused mid-walk, then silently stepped behind him. I wrapped my arms tenderly around his waist, nuzzling into my brother's back. In return, Jackson's tail wagged against my stomach, almost lifting up the hem of my shirt.

"That was a really great meatloaf you made there, Jack."

"...thank you, Jas," he murmured.

"I really mean that," I said, licking my nose and reminiscing of recent taste.

My brother and I dared to never do anything outside the safety of our locked bedroom, even if we were the only mammals home. However, I didn't care at that moment. I only wanted to make him feel better. So, I pushed the boundaries by placing a soft, comforting kiss on the side of his spotted neck. Jackson shivered against my chest, failing to suppress a moan as he started panting.

"Wha...what're you...hehe--doing, Jasper?"

"Showing you how much I love you." I huffed against his covered shoulder, right paw roaming along his identically spender stomach as I leaned against him and felt his tail wag against my boner. His mirroring scent drove me wild. "Forget Dad. There's only you and me here, Jack." Another kiss to his musky neck, followed by some nibbling. "You and me, bro."

While imprisoned within the mansion, the Dalmatian twins relied on each other for love and support, which grew beyond brotherly midway through high school. Set up flirtations and lingering touches combined with lust culminated into a night neither would forget. And many more since, including that evening.

See, society in general wouldn't consider our love for each other as twin brothers...'normal'.

Jackson and I raced for our bedroom. In our excitement, I tripped once or twice on the stairs going up to the second floor, and by the time that I burst through the door, I had already discarded my T-shirt and started unbuttoning my jeans, only for Jackson to stop me.

"Allow me," he whispered huskily. His fingers expertly unzipped my fly, then shimmied down my jeans and boxers without effort on my part. "Happy birthday, Jas."

A beamed down at my twin brother. "Happy birthday to you too, Jacksooooooooh!"

As expected, Jackson didn't waste any time in slurping up my cock. His velvet enveloped my erection until it left me throbbing and hitching my breath with each intake of air. The back of my throat rumbled like a purring engine at the same time my legs trembled. I could only grip his heated ears for encouraging support while pushing my hips inside his welcoming maw, until he stopped.

We grinned like horny idiots. He'd already placed the bottle of lube on his nightstand. Peeling down the rest of his clothes, I guided Jackson onto his back and placed a pillow underneath his rump. Our muzzles locked into a puckering kiss that transformed into trading tongues and lapping caresses, my aching dick smearing warm precum between Jackson's quivering, spotted mounds. That ass called to me like a siren while his zealous groping and our impassioned kisses hypnotized me in a trance. It led me to reach for the bottle of lube, then smearing a large dollop of it along my shaft. And the crack of his ass too, particularly around/inside my twin's winking tailhole.

"I love you, Jackson."

"I love you too, Jasper. Now please...fuck me!"

I smirked down at him. "As you wish, bro."

I couldn't write Jackson poetry or even take him out on dates, but I'd be damned if I didn't make love to him like a boyfriend ought to do.

My brother and I dared to never have sex anywhere else but our shared bedroom, no matter how much we wanted to. Even so, we always made the most of each time spent together. In bed, the line between brothers and lovers blurred together with our monochrome fur and mismatched spots. We simply expressed our relationship in a unique way nobody else could understand.

Now that we were eighteen, things were going to get easier. Not only could we vote or apply for credit cards, but also move out on our own. Which was what me and Jackson wanted to do. We planned on running away together to the East Coast weeks later after graduation, hitch a bus for New Jersey--where incest between consenting adults is actually legal--then start a brand-new life together as both brothers and lovers without our father even knowing the taboo truth. Nobody would ever know.

Unfortunately, life had other plans. We were too enthralled in each other and the sounds we made to hear anything. Not as I made passionate love to Jackson. We didn't pay attention enough to our surroundings. Certainly, not to the sound of a garage door opening, a foyer being entered, or tired footsteps ascending the staircase.

By the time we did realize Dad made it home, things were too late. He unceremoniously opened our bedroom door with wide eyes and a disgusted fury etched on his face.

All Hell fucking broke loose.