FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Iri tapped through his laptop until the feed direct from the camera spread out across the majority of the screen - and what a fuckin' view it is, he thought. The dragon glanced up into the rest of the shower and then down again, making sure that everything was in place where it should be: the camera, waterproof of course, on a small tripod tilted to just the right angle, bringing into luscious view the thick, plump flesh of hanging canine spade, bouncing and jiggling with each of the Pokémon's little breaths and movements, just beneath the glittering jewel of the vanity plug he had so tenderly slipped into her tailhole the previous day following her scheduled grooming appointment.

And then, of course, the camera caught the rest of the Absol where she stood with her forepaws braced against the glass wall of the shower, looking back at him as he made his preparations. He had looked forward to this literally since he had first slopped the plug into place beneath her sickle-tail the previous day; now the dragon rubbed his hands together in anticipation, stepped forward across the smooth tile, and then swiftly knelt down behind her. Instead of regarding him with suspicion and distaste as she did last time, now the Absol - someone else's, of course, left at his care facility over the weekend - could barely hide her shared excitement. He slid his fingers in along the base of the plug, gave a tug, felt it give a bit and then suck back into place beneath gathered layers of slick slime, then tugged again - and finally it came free, bringing with it a few thick, sticky ropes of discolored ooze.

Not for long, though: as soon as it came free, a wet _squelch_punctuating its release, Iri dove in to replace it with his own tongue all over again, the Absol immediately shivering and tensing with the sudden change. He felt her lower bowels strain and mold down against his muzzle, briefly ballooning out his cheeks with all of that released pressure; hot, stagnant air hissed out from his nostrils along the underside of her tail, the dragon's tongue quite easily slipping as deep inside of her tailhole as he could stretch it. Thick globs of anal slime caught along his tongue and clung to the fur of his muzzle, dripping down, coating the interior of his throat as he sucked and swallowed in against her; her already-gaping tailhole pulled back against the kiss, stretched rim sucking in against his mouth and then slopping free each time he churned his jaw against her.

It looked like one of those globs had already smacked across the lens of the camera. Iri reached down, swiped it off with the pad of a thumb, and then in the same movement pulled himself up into his proper position just behind the Absol, her forepaws now splayed at a wider angle along the glass. Here at home he no longer had to worry about remaining in the required dress code of the salon, which meant that there was no nervous, fervent few seconds spend in rushing to remove his pants: instead, fully hard already from the memory of the previous day and the refreshed taste of Pokémon on his breath and back of his throat, he spread his hands along her haunches, thumbs coming in close towards the rim of her tailhole to spread her further.

Not that he needed to, of course: thanks to her treatment the other day along with the plug kept inside of her, he barely even needed to line himself up before he was able to plunge to the base inside of her, slick inner walls squeezing deliciously around him in one smooth, wet go. The Pokémon shivered and mewled in front of him, muscles straining to squeeze around him, slickness already oozing along his hard length and dripping out into his slit.

The dragon shivered and swallowed with the sensation, taking a brief moment to glance down again and make sure the angle for the camera was still good. Still gripping her hips he pulled easily back, tapered cock streaked with the greasy slickness of built-up anal slime combined with saliva both new and old, as just before he had plugged her yesterday he had of course sucked as much slickness out of her as he could and then spat it right back into her parted tailhole. At a certain point her tailhole could simply no longer clench shut around his tip, so just before that point he widened his stance and plunged back into her, then pulled back to repeat the same again, and again, and again, each time a little bit faster, a little bit harder.

Soon he too had to brace his hands against the glass door in front of them, hips slapping wetly against her haunches, thick dribbles of drool and sticky slickness dripping down the underside of his tail and along his thighs. He heard those ropes as they slapped against the floor and over the sides of the camera, the Absol underneath him deliberately pushing back into his lap, eyes closed and teeth gritted, a warm, pleasurable rumble in her throat; he wrapped one arm around the Pokémon's midsection, held her against him, pounded deeper, harder, further - and before long felt her shudder and jerk against him, then do so again. All of her muscles strained, tightened together, then suddenly burst loose - and he felt the spraying squirts of her orgasm empty out across his thighs, knees, shins, and feet underneath, absolutely soaking the camera's lens as though he had just turned the shower on.

Spurred on by the encouragement Iri redoubled his pace against her, now leaning down so that his muzzle pressed against hers from the side. He could feel her pushing out against him, the walls of her bowels slurping into place and sleeving around his shaft as he pumped into her, fur and scales both soaked and sticking together; the Pokémon's mouth parted open and she let out another shivering, rumbling noise as a second finish pulsed through her, yet again spraying loosely out across him to soak him even further. Then another burst of peaking arousal, this one jetting out each time he pulled back towards his tip - and he felt the camera wobble on its tripod and then tumble over to roll across his foot, pointing off at some oblique angle.

Too wrapped up in his current situation, though, Iri paid no notice to it, and in hardly a few more seconds buried himself to the base inside of her again with his own finish pounding out through his body. The glass creaked on its hinges, threatening to shatter underneath the tension; he bucked into her, again, again, and then in a quick, smooth movement pulled free, finally obeying the desire of her bowels as they continued to push out against him. As soon as he slurped free all of that inner meat blossomed out along the stretched rim of her tailhole, dense folds overlapping and dumping out a combination of drool, slickness, and the milky white of his cum, her fur soaked all the way through with her own scent.

The dragon nearly fell down under the exhaustion of his finish, and then ended up slipping on the splash zone anyway. Panting, shaking, he reached over to set the camera back up, now angling it down towards her swollen, dripping spade. She looked expectantly back at him.

He had a lot of cleanup to do.