FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

//: City of San Iadras. 'Uptown' district. Jennifer's back thumped into her front door, her hands around the back of Troy's neck, purse in one, the tag of the purse's zip in the other. He pushed her against the door, needfully pressing his lips to her face, the side of her snout, her ear, her neck. "Keys," she grunted, slapping her purse against Troy's back. He pulled back long enough for her to fish her keys out and jam the green plastic one against the reader. She backed through the door as it opened, pulled Troy through by the shirt. Pushed him back against it when it closed, forced her lips against his in a quick kiss. She groped for the control panel in the dark, tagged the light switch, dialling them down from full to something a little less bright, a little more intimate. "Jesus," Troy whispered, panting for breath. She pulled at the neckstrap of her halter top, trying to pull her head through, but his jacket was in the way. "Whoah, whoah," Troy panted, tugging insistently at her shoulders, coaxing her out of the jacket. He pulled it off her and dropped it, everything in the pockets clunking, and she ducked in close, pulling open the buttons of his shirt one by one. She pulled the tucked in hem of his shirt out from his pants, pushing the folds back while burying her face in his chest, licking at his nipple, making him shudder with chills along his spine. Jennifer's hands joined the chills on his spine, while her hot tongue lapped across his fur. Her exploring hands found little hard edges of plastic beside his vertebrae, and she pulled her head back, glancing at him questioningly. "Where the sockets used to be," he breathed, shrugging his shoulders and trying to pull the shirt off. "Doesn't matter." Jennifer nodded and pushed him back against the door when he was half done, pulling on the sleeves to trap his hands. She crouched, tail slashing from side to side, pulling at the button and zip of his pants, dragging them down just a few inches till they hung from the loop his tail was through, shoving his boxers down with them. Troy took a shaking breath, watching her fold her hands over his erect penis, rubbing her palms along its smooth flesh. She stuck out her tongue and lapped at the head, sending Troy into another fit of shivers, legs shaking. "Jesus." She closed her wet, hot mouth over him, sliding her tongue over his cock's underside. She pulled back before he could do more than groan, licking her lips. "Get your shoes off," she grinned, pulling back to work her media centre's control. He shook his head, gasping for breath. Her saliva on his penis began to cool, chilling him. It only made him harder. He halfway crouched, heaving for breath while he pulled at his laces. By the time he got his pants off, she had the music on, a softly rolling sound, like electronic waves. Jennifer pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it aside. She put her feet apart, gyrating side to side, clutching at her hair to smooth it out for a moment, sparing only a brief glance to make sure he was watching. She put her hands to her shorts, pulling her legs together and shoving hard, till they stretched over her hips and popped down, revealing black lace panties, only to have her shorts catch on her sandles. She struggled, fell backwards onto the couch. "Fuck, my tail," she grunted, then giggled. "That never happens on stage." Troy stepped closer, kneeling beside her, he started unbuckling the sandals. He pulled one free, yanked down the leg of her shorts and closed the fingers of his right hand over her toes. He laced his fingers between them, squeezing lightly. She lifted her leg, clenching her toes so as to drag his hand with her, and she swept her extended leg to a side, spreading her legs, grinning while steadying herself against the couch. He pulled his hand free, running it along the underside of her leg, until finally his hand ran over the lowest tiger stripes on the back of her thigh, then her firm buttock, the elastic edge of her panties. She grasped at his hand, pulled it against her crotch, already damp. Troy ran his fingers over the silky fabric, hard, and she groaned. Jennifer dropped her leg down beside Troy's head, crooking her knee over his shoulder, and flapped her other foot, still entangled with shorts and sandal, against his chest. While he pulled them off, she shifted closer to him on the couch, squirming her panties down inch by inch. "Wanna lick me a little?" she offered. Troy nodded, dipping his head towards her crotch while she pulled the front of her panties down. She'd dyed her fur in to seem like trimmed red pubic hair, left a few curls longer than the almost creamy white fur over her labia. He pressed his tongue to the meeting arch between her legs, where the line of her slit began, and she whimpered. Hot and wet, she grunted, splaying her fingers against herself, close to his nose, and she parted her labia, revealing her soft, wet pink flesh. He ran his tongue over her clit, tasting her dampness. The taste was strange, different, altogether her in the same way her scent was. He leaned closer, placing his hands to either side and stretching her open with either of his thumbs while he lapped at her. Jennifer slumped back with a whimper, clawing at the couch cushions. She rubbed the sides of his head with her thighs with each shudder, moaning to him with each gentle probe of his tongue. He pushed her thighs a little further apart, and she whimpered. "Hold on, you'll stretch 'em," Jennifer gasped. Troy pulled back, blinking a little, keeping his hands on her, drawing them along her thighs. She pulled her leg off Troy's shoulder, pushed her knees together, and slid off her panties, pushing them underneath Troy's fingers until he pulled them off entirely, dropping them on a corner table. "Come on, sit down." Jennifer reached forward, running her hands over his sides until she simply dragged him up onto the sofa, shoved him a little roughly till he was seated, tail caught against a padded hollow in the back board. She leaned close, bit at his neck, grinding her teeth in his fur. "Christ," Troy breathed, leaning his head to one side, leaving his neck open to her. She slid her nude body over his, pushing herself off the couch with her hands, feet to either side of his. Her hair hung limp in front of her face, and she paused, flipping it back with a hand. "Like what you see?" she asked, reaching down to stroke her hand over his erection, then pushing back to stand in front of him, cupping a breast with her hand, kneading herself. "How couldn't I?" Troy replied between gulps of air, watching the way she twisted in front of him. She sat on his knee, grinding herself against his leg, and he felt her, hot and wet. Jennifer felt him too, hard and waiting, his penis pressing against the side of her tail. She pushed her hands down against his knee, lifting herself up, and she scooched back, sitting on his lap side-saddle, his penis held flat by the side of her ass, and she shifted herself with careful little pushes until her tail lay across one of his hips. She reached down, pulling the length of him up against herself. Troy groaned, leaning his lips against her shoulder, breathing hard against her fur. He breathed faster, from the touch of her fingers, from the touch of her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and she eased down on him. Slipping him, into her. He felt the walls of her vagina clench down on him, a tight warmth, a friction that began as she started jogging herself against him, pushing with one hand against his hip to lift herself in the slightly awkward position necessitated by tails. Jennifer moved her hand from his side, slowing, and dragged his hands, one by one, over their linked sexes. She squeezed his balls gently, starting that gentle bouncing that made Troy want to yelp. She lolled her head back, with a whimper. "Rub my clit, please?" she got out in gasps. He ran his fingers over her soft flesh, until he found the slight knot of flesh that made her shiver against his cock, made her moan. He could feel himself sliding in and out of her with his fingers, feel the stretching of her flesh as she moved, faster and faster. "Ahh, oh god," she wheezed, shifting one of her knees over slightly, squeezing Troy's hands against her crotch, tightening down on him inside her. He leaned forward, feeling the heat inside himself, and he kissed the back of her neck. Then, as he felt himself shudder, he bit her fur with a grunt, breath coming in hot gasps. It was a shiver, a tingle, a muted shockwave through him. Jennifer reached down to his suddenly still hands, grinding them into herself with a fast yelp, shuddering, squeezing, while an extra warm wetness began to flow over their linked fingers, their linked bodies. An almost painful squeeze, a second high pitched yelp, her wheezing breath fast, then slow and satisfied. Troy kissed the back of her neck, chest heaving. She bent forward and Troy ran his slightly sticky hands over her back, across the light and dark pattern of the tiger stripes across Jennifer's back. She picked up her shorts, holding the rough fabric against their genitals while she gingerly raised herself, catching the slight flow of their mingled juices. The rough cloth on Troy's penis made it feel itchy, hot. Troy gasped for another breath of air, dropping his hands to her hips. Jennifer leaned back, kissing him gently on the side of the snout. "Let me go and get something into the oven for us to eat and, and then I'll be back." Troy nodded mutely, letting his arms slip from her, pulling breath in heavily while she padded off lightly, a spring in her step, her tail swaying from side to side. He rubbed his fingers together, the fur between his fingerpads a little sticky. It didn't matter. He got up, trailing after Jennifer, pausing to pick up Florence's jacket. She pulled a couple of packages out, setting them on the counter. She moved with a strange grace, her nude body almost seeming to flow from position to position as she stripped off the package labels and let the cooker scan them before closing the oven doors. Jennifer straightened, glanced back at him, leaning on the kitchen bar. She rolled a shoulder back primly, reaching up lightly to straighten out her hair, tucking some of it behind her ear, some back over her shoulder. Troy set the jacket down over the bar, dipping his gaze lightly, past her flat stomach, the curl of fur between her legs, her knees, her calves. Finally, he stared down at the jacket on the counter for a moment, and glanced up with a breath. "This is what I was talking about," she offered, crossing her legs demurely while leaning back against a countertop, folding her arms across her breasts. She grinned. "This is that look that tells me you love me, you want to touch me. Explore my body." He glanced up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but smile, suppressing a chuckle. "You read minds too?" "Maybe," she replied, stepping across to the other side of the bar, pressing the flats of her hands against the sides of her breasts, dipping her nose to lick awkwardly at the faint beginnings of the cleavage between them. "Maybe you want me like this," Jennifer said, before turning slightly, sliding herself up onto the countertop, back to him, her tail thumping against the plastic surface. She stretched out one leg to brace herself against the fridge, leaning her head back slowly, until Troy could make out the tips of her breasts. She ran her hands over her stomach, peering up at Troy, upsidown, back arched. "Or like this?" she asked, grinning. "Is that in the Kama Sutra?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow, pulling a slim box from his jacket. "We could put it there," she offered, straightening out and glancing back at him. "What've you got there?" "Ah, I got something for you." Troy held it out, leaning his hip on the bar lightly. Jennifer hopped down, turning around to take it. "René put you up to this, didn't he?" "The, ah, butler? I wanted to get you something. He helped me decide on what, that's all." She lifted the necklace up, either end in her fingertips. It was silver, with a shining charm hanging from it's centre. Jennifer blinked slowly, then looked up at Troy with wide eyes. She held out the ends of the necklace. "Put on for me?" she whispered. Troy took the necklace, waited until Jennifer pulled up her hair, eyes lightly shut. She turned her back to him, and he slipped the necklace around her neck. His fingertips brushed against the fur at her throat, and she took in one gasp of breath. Even as he struggled to get the tiny clasp shut without trapping a few errant wisps of his own fur, or that of her neck or hair, she leaned her body back against his, grinding her shoulders into his chest. He kissed the side of her neck, putting his arms around her when he was done. She lifted up the charm, and it sparkled a little in the slightly dim light. A small silver image of the sun, with waving rays emanating from the edge. "Sunshine," she whispered. "Because it's the best part of the beach," Troy replied, closing his eyes and burying kisses into her shoulder. "Next to the company." She lay her hands over his, and lightly guided his right hand over her breast. He squeezed it lightly, feeling her nipple harden against his hand. "Bedroom or couch?" she asked, taking whispering breaths. "What about the food?" he asked, breathing hotly into her ear. She moaned, tail thwacking into the inner side of his leg. "Food later. Fuck now." She pulled his head to her breasts, he licked her nipples while she whispered contentment to him. Licked his way down the length of her body, and then she yelped it. She ran her hand along the length of his tail while nipping at his stomach, sending electric shivers of desire through him. She pushed him down into her bed and straddled him, bobbing on him with agonising slowness, reaching down to part her labia, leaning back and forcing him to watch their union. Her pushed her up against the wall of her shower door, the fur across her breasts leaving patterns in the glass while she lifted her tail for him, each thrust he made rattling the doors. They massaged each other with the showerheads, she pulled him close afterward and licked at his penis till it firmed, and she had him on the rug of her apartment floor. He listened to her urgings, nibbling at the edge of her ears, her back shoved against his chest while he dipped his fingers in and out of her while they lay together. She displayed herself to him, using a vibrator to bring herself to ecstacy and torture him until he had to have her again, ramming himself into her until they couldn't speak anymore. She pushed his hands against the headboard of her bed and writhed against him in a weird, fiery dance. He kissed her again and again, told her that he loved her. She bit into his fur, grazed her teeth against his throat, and purred her pleasure to him. They ate together, off each other. They ended up in the shower again, pressing against each other under the spray and the drying air. Eventually he pulled a pair of shorts on and she teased him, fondled him through the fabric. He kissed her, but they managed to fall asleep. Eventually, anyway. "A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy. Guy Fawkes said that." Pressed tablets of neon pink powder smeared across the floor. "Why the hell did they do that? Why? I had to kill him! There wasn't any reason!" Blood pulsed from an open wound, with every beat of a dying heart. "This research is important." A dull pink smile behind shining spectacles. "You want to help your brothers, don't you?" "Can you find me a dictation programme? Maybe I can, maybe I can just speak it. God, am I bleeding again?" Lips drawn back, nose sharply pointed and poking into the air like a dead rat's, foreteeth bared, eyes dry as sin. Sizzle of burning flesh. Pain of cut flesh. "I don't want to die. I've got cancer, I know that. I just don't want to die. Please, Troy... Please..." It's wet and rubbery and full of capillaries and still viable and the wiring's wrong so it feels like sick in the back of the throat when it gets picked up but it's viable it's still alive he isn't alive but it might save me anyway and- "Ain't that crazy? From the perspective of the ladder, the shed's only three feet long. It can't fit inside. But from the shed's, the ladder's only a couple of-" coughing. Wet coughing. A dull smile. A shrug. "You're helping your brothers." "W-Where's Springfield? Where'd they take Springfield?" -dust in the eye little motes of dust and speckles of blood on the white from the saw and no tears no blinking- "A dangerous remedy. Don't that fucking beat all?" Swallow the pills one by one by one by one by one by one... -make the cut.open the wound put the optics inside take out mine put in his pour in the stem cells- "You're doing the procedure very well, Troy." -go away don't choose me Jesus I'm eight I'm fucking eight years old- "Berlin would be proud." -it's not my fucking liver it's not my fucking liver it's too small it's empty it's hollow it's in me I had to take it out and put it in me and not him so I can live but it's dead inside me dead like Berlin- "If you keep up this good work, you can help your brothers." -WHY DIDN'T YOU CLOSE HIS FUCKING EYES?! WHY DIDN'T YOU- Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Troy rolled out of bed, left arm tangling in the blankets. For a second it hurts, it hurts and it sickens and it burns and- "Troy?" His feet thumped against the bedroom floor, his tail lashing around panickedly. Bile in his throat, tears blurring his vision. The bedroom door's open. They made love last night and the door's still open. But it happened not three miles away and- Troy pulled his hands to his mouth and raced away, away, in a second he was hunching over the toilet bowl and his stomach was tearing itself apart and it little green floods of goop were pouring out of his mouth and he was crying and it hurt and, and, and- And Jennifer touched a towel lightly to his mouth, wiping his face clean, his fur dry, dabbing at his eyes. He couldn't get out anything more than a squeak, ridiculously low. Real mice didn't make that noise. But he wasn't a mouse. Not really. He just looked like one and had one's genes and one's tail but not one's hand and- "Shh, Shhh, Troy, it's okay. It's okay Troy, it's-" He couldn't hear her, his stomach had found something else to throw up, until that ran dry. He tugged at the flesh of his left wrist, scrabbling at it until he found the switch, keying it with the god-awful electric snap it gave him when he didn't find the switch in his head but he didn't want that he never wanted anything in his head, they never asked they just- He flung the suddenly limp hand away, cradling what was left of his arm, gasping for breath, tail wrapped around his knees as he fell back against her, sobbing. "Shhh." Jennifer kissed him gently. "It's okay now." Troy concentrated on breathing. One. Two. Thre- Troy hunched back against the toilet bowl. It felt sick inside him. Sick and twisted and dead and wrong and he felt her hand on his back. She folded over the towel, and wiped at his tears. She helped him blow his nose in it, and after a few abortive attempts he managed to count his breaths all the way up to ten. "You want to talk about it, sweetie?" No. "Yes." "- and they didn't have any reason to do it, I checked the research documents, they didn't even take any fucking notes they didn't learn anything they just..." She kissed his ear, putting her arm around him. The robe made her look pretty. It was an absurd thought, but it was true. "Shhh. Slow down." Troy took a breath. "They just, they just came in one day. And they took Lagos, and cut off his ears. He's got cosmetics now, and they told us they needed tissue, but, but... Oh God he's dead he died too, they just shoved antibiotics into us and his immune system died and he got the fucking flu and he died and his ears they just tossed them in the incinerator and-" Troy felt bile in the back of his throat. Jennifer blinked away tears of her own, rubbing his back gently. "It's alright, Troy. It's long gone. It can't hurt you anymore." "It hurts me every day," he whimpered, eyes cold and wet with tears. She pulled close, squeezing her arms around him. "They gave us a choice of things to study. I picked medicine, I wanted to please them so maybe they'd leave me and my brothers alone." Troy swallowed. His mouth still felt dirty. "They told us Berlin had gotten Leukaemia. They cut off my arm and stuck wires in me and through what was left of my muscles and told me to, to, dissect him. But-" She dabbed away his tears. "-it's my fault because I didn't say anything but I checked and he didn't have anaemia and that's the first fucking thing that happens with leukaemia and then liver damage and Berlin was studying literature and they didn't like that, and he didn't have leukaemia they killed him to see what the hell I'd do - they killed him because of me so it's like I killed him because I got sick and I stuck his liver in me and it's it's its..." Troy forced himself to slow down at the touch of her hand on the back of his head, forced himself to stop clawing at the fur that hid all those scars so very, very well. She kissed him gently. He held her tightly. "Occasionally," she started, "one comes across parents who show no interest at all in their children, and these of course are far worse than the doting ones. Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood were two such-" Troy couldn't remember the story. He could remember the name of the little girl, Matilda, but he couldn't tell you who she was or what she did other than love reading. What Troy did remember, what he remembered best of all, was Jennifer's warmth as he lay against her on her couch in San Iadras, just three miles from the labs, at four AM one Sunday morning. //: Flying North. Troy's phone beeped. It took him a moment to realize he should answer it, because the ring sounded different to his old phone. Troy glanced at the grumpy looking old man in the seat next to his warily, and keyed into the call. He heard his own voice, but without saying anything. "Troy? It's Turin." "Hey, good morning, Turin. It's Troy. How're you?" "Bad headache. But, uh, Christ. You need me to take you to the airport?" Troy couldn't help but smile. "Been in the air for about fifteen minutes. A friend dropped me off." "Crap! Sorry, Troy. Just a bit disorganised." There was a long pause. "Damn headache." "Take yourself to a doctor tomorrow, Turin." "I'll be fine, just need some aspirin." "Seriously. Drag Dallas with you, I think there's something wrong with his ankle he's not talking about." "Okay, okay. Look, I'm sorry I ditched that Rutherman woman on you Friday, I bet you wanted to get out of there, huh?" Troy paused at that. He had. He'd wanted to go and get a cab and get out of there. But what if he had? "Things worked out okay." "Well, Alright. Sorry about all that." "It's okay. Just take yourself and Dallas to get yourselves checked out, alright?" "Okay. I'll call you in the week." Troy nodded just slightly. "Okay." Troy keyed off the call, ignoring the hmmph of the passenger in the seat behind him. It was a lot easier to ignore him than try to look at him, at any rate. Troy grimaced, twisting around in his seat to try and find a way to sit comfortably without crushing his tail against one of the arm rests. Glancing at his phone to check the call time, he noticed that the wallpaper had been changed to text. He cleared the menus and read: To remember me by: Main/Media/Girlfriend Troy blinked, shifting over to open the directory, picking out the file inside. "Hey Troy," a voice played, image twisting around to show Jennifer. She grinned at the camera. "I noticed your new phone has a camera, and, uh, you're still asleep," she continued, twisting the phone about briefly to show Troy's own black-furred backside curled up on Jennifer's bed, light shining in through the window. She had seemed a little... what, perky when he'd finally woken up after getting back to sleep? "So, uhm, just so you don't necessarily forget me in between all your work..." She held up the purple length of the vibrator she'd had out last night, hitching her thumb through th eband of her panties. He tilted his head at first, blinking at the phone. Then he realized where he was, and he desperately thumbed around to try and find the volume control, the stop, the- The passenger in the seat beside him glanced once at the sound of a groan. He grimaced and muttered something that sounded like 'furvert'. Troy shut off his phone, squeezing his eyes shut, ears burning hot with embarrassment, and found himself wondering when the next conference in San Iadras might be, and if he could find a way to attend. ---- Finally, that is 'City Mouse' finished, a story I'd been planning since the original few San Iadras stories a couple of years ago. I have in mind another story just at the moment, 'Country Mouse', and hopefully that won't take _quite_ so long to finish. And, just a reminder, any (respectful) feedback, suggestions and commentary you may wish to express are always very appreciated.