FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I

"Coffee?", she asks, not patronizing me with "Sir". I approve. The steaming liquid has my attention until I see past the pot to the splash of russet-red fur. A tasteful figure, but females? Not really my thing. Until her scent wafts my way. Warm, earthy, a hint of spice. Inexplicable pulse-rate increase.

Never a regular, now I find a reason to drop in on my way home, evenings, Monday to Thursday. That's when she's there. "Hey, you!" That mischievous smile. Of course they don't really mean it. Flirting with the customers for bigger tips.

I write my cell number on a napkin, add a cartoon dog, leave it with the folded bill. What would she want with a big, awkward Saint Bernard who always bumps into things? After the surprise evening clamour of the phone's seldom-heard ring tone, the conversation starts awkwardly. But we warm.

Out of the café, out of her uniform apron, the sheen of her fur catches the morning sun in the park by the river. Comfortable summer dress just the right shape to show off her perfect proportions. Dogs, what am I doing here? Yet a genuine radiance suffuses her greeting smile.

The satisfied glow of food and a good red wine (wholly appreciated) as we sit down to watch a movie. I might not be able to dance, but I can cook. Her curves and her warm scent draw me closer in the flickering screen-light. Can I? Before I dare to move, she leans towards me, and I find my paws wrapped around her supple form. The film doesn't live up to reviews, and I don't mind at all as she takes one of my paws in hers and examines it. Mine are large, strong, helpless in her delicate grasp.

II

"Hey, Bigdog!" A feminine voice issues from the phone, aloof tone to hide shyness and a hint of mischief. I'm smiling as I picture her, sunlight on her autumn-red fur, soft ears framing her fine Ridgeback features, laughter somewhere in those keen brown eyes.

It's Saturday, and she doesn't have plans.

"I think Spirit Lake would look good on you!" She's never been there, and I'm nervous about the hike involved. But she would look good sitting amongst the mountain daisies, snowy peaks reflected in the lake behind her. And she did say that she wanted to get outdoors more.

"It's true!" she confirms, reclining on the seat of my car, faded shirt and sturdy shorts only emphasising her radiant coat. "My great grandpa was an explorer. He thought he found a new pass through the mountains - except he'd lost his compass, and when the weather cleared he realised he'd gone in a circle." We chuckle at this family legend, then she shivers, perhaps with excitement. "I've always wanted to do more hiking."

Backpack over her shoulders, she skips ahead of me up the trail as it winds through gnarled pines between rocky crags. I needn't have worried about her fitness - soon it's me who's panting as we climb. I'm no athlete, but I'm not as fat as my thick ruff of misbehaved fur would indicate. She, on the other paw, is lithe and agile, and the view is not at all bad from down the track.

I find her sitting on a boulder with her paws dangling in the crisp water of a stream. She looks as fresh as she did at the car, while I must sit beside her for a minute to catch my breath. The cares of daily life in a low-paid job have fallen away from her face, leaving only a relaxed confidence. Do I look equally at home here? I feel like it. She's looking out over the blue distance below us, but turns a little to catch my gaze, and she doesn't even flinch when I lean in to kiss her red-furred cheek.

III

Mountains still draped in spring snow, tumbling slopes pine-swathed, and the mirror surface of Spirit Lake reflecting everything back to the empty sky - so the view expands as we scramble over the last boulders at the foot of the high valley.

She stands for a moment, drinks the circling vista with her eyes. Those brown jewels sparkle as they turn to me, and I see the joy in her face even before she speaks. Like me, she feels the simple pleasure of lonely places reached by paw.

Mountain daises dot the meadow which sweeps down to the stony shore. "Swim?" It's more announcement than question as she dumps her pack. I wonder how this will be achieved, for we didn't bring suitable attire or towels. But the mountain has taken our inhibitions along with our stress, and she kicks off her shorts and shirt at the water's edge to reveal a symphony of graceful curves.

Heart pounding, I follow. She looks back, catches my stare, winks.

"That will be very cold!" I warn, but I'm not going to be outdone so I slip my shirt over my head - always a struggle for a Saint - then undo my pants and feel them drop to the ground.

As predicted, the icy lake takes my breath away. But it feels amazing - invigorating - and sensual as my naked limbs slide through the water. We laugh, splash each other, swim in circles.

I decide I've had enough when my paws go numb. It's her turn to watch as I clamber out, floods pouring from my bedraggled fur to sluice the rocks. She's not far behind, and glittering rainbow drops fill the air as we shake.

We're still quite damp, and she takes my paw without saying anything, leading me towards a comfortable patch of mossy grass, where we floomp down to dry in the warm sun.

IV

A grassy bed, mountain walls, and a roof of blue sky, aching and empty. Slow-dried and sun-warmed we recline, talk, relax in comfortable silence. Then I collect the packs and spread out our hard-earned picnic lunch.

We snooze, wishing we were nowhere else. I move closer to fill my nose with her scent and brush my paw over her smooth curves. She stirs, moves against me.

A bastion of rock juts out beside the lake, its proud summit unreachable unless, like me, you know the way. Leaving our packs, we scramble up through stunted pines and clamber over boulders. She moves with a lightness I can't match but can appreciate. I feel awkward as I haul myself up the last crag, but laughter sparkles in her watching eyes and I don't mind.

We reach the broad plateau of sun-warmed rock, where we hang between shining lake and spreading sky. She turns, filling her gaze and her soul. Then she looks a me, and the heat I feel has nothing to do with the sun-heated stone or the exertion of the climb.

V

Hungry, I step towards her, paws on her torso, then sliding up her back to her shoulders as my broad muzzle seeks hers. Her slender form is firm beneath my grasp, and she hesitates, then raises her nose to meet mine. My tongue finds a hint of salt on her lips before her mouth opens and we kiss. Now her paws move over my torso and her fingers make make exquisite motions in my soft fur.

Yes, she is female, and yet her heat burns at my core as her secrets enchant me. I fumble at the buttons of her shirt, paws suddenly clumsy. Grinning, she helps and soon the garment is gone. On my knees, my paws caress her flanks and my tongue explores her nipples. Something distracts me from that dreamy place - it is the incessant tug of her paws. To make it stop I oblige by pulling my shirt over my head. It drops, somewhere far away.

Back at her smooth stomach, her scent fills my nose. A belt fixes her denim shorts, and my fingers tease at it, desire and uncertainty mingling. I feel her paw on mine and look up into lovely but questioning eyes. "Here?"

"Why not?" It's late in the day. We're out of site of the trail anyway. Her skin is hot beneath my touch and I can feel her desire. She relaxes, her paws on my shoulders again. In a moment of clarity, I see nothing but the buckle, which soon opens under my claws. Released, her pants fall away.

And there is her sex, right before my nose, so I can't help but lower my head, to sniff, to lick at the outer edges, then dip my tongue in. To feel exquisite smoothness of folds and shapes, to taste her sweet juices.

The stirring in my own loins gives away my desire even as she draws a trembling breath and her hips rotate a little to press into my muzzle. My paws explore, over her thighs, her hips, the base of her tail.

I am a prisoner, trapped, tormented. I break the connection of my paws with her russet fur, and finally unfasten my own pants. Now I feel the cool touch of air on my fur once more, and it is delight. Standing, I kick the clothes to one side, and emerge, naked, tall, free, a Grecian god in my own imagination - fit partner for the goddess before me.

And she is a sonnet from every angle, beauty in every curve. I appreciate her for a moment longer, but then I must drink in her beauty with more than my eyes. We come together again, and this time I feel her paw trace over my bulging sheath and down over my aching balls even as our mouths meet.

Our passionate tongues explore, mingle, and I return her favour by caressing around her labia with my fingers, slipping just a little inside her dripping entrance. For a moment I am not sure what to do, but then she shows me. Her tail swishing the air, she breaks our kiss and steps back.

Turning, she drops to her knees, her seductive rump towards me, desire and a dare in her eyes as she looks back over her shoulder. Then I am down behind her, mossy rock beneath me, my desire before me. Rational thought is fading as I grab her buttocks, run my fingers around the base of her tail until it lifts and pulls to one side. And now I see her slick entrance once more, an invitation.

Finally I can pull myself near to her, wrap my paws around her hips. My cock tingles with an anticipation which spreads throughout my body. I have only instinct, and it is all I need as I lower my paw to her proud slit, to guide the pre-cum slicked tip of my penis to its destination. I feel her heat as her labia part and I slide in. It is an exquisite rush of sensation which drowns all other senses.

Tight... warm... slick... supple... she is all this and more. Then I am thrusting into her, and she is pressing back into my thrusts, gasping, mouth open, eyes closed. I can see her beautiful proportions in front of me - the fine musculature of her shoulders and back, her slim waist, her hips, the graceful arch of her tail now pressed to one side by my bulk. She has grace; I have strength and size. My size fills her as I hold her close with my strength.

My hips press against her as I slow my rhythm and force myself to make slow, sensual movements deep into her. Her muscles quiver and pulse around my member even as her labia force my sheath far back. I am wrapped in her; I am falling into her. My cock swells and movements become shorter as her muscles clamp tight on the base. I caress her flanks, her shoulders, her nipples, then suddenly I bring my paws back to grip her hips and hold her tight as a fire rises.

Then I am washed away by a flood which passed through me and into her, my muscles pulsing again and again as I fill her.

And now we are locked together as our ecstasy rolls over us and I hold her. The wave subsides, but oh so gradually. I realise that my knees ache, and we manoeuvre until we can lie side by side on the warm rock, our bodies connected still, my cock pulsing. I hold her close, and my paw caresses her cheek. Nothing needs to be said. She smiles at me, dreamy look in her eyes, and I marvel at the way her fine fur gleams in the sunlight.