FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In Season

by Mog Moogle

A crisp autumn chill hung in the early morning as the brilliant oranges and yellows of the trees filled the air with the sweet scent of decaying leaves. The occasional breeze rustled the tree canopies, making them creak softly and the loose leaves flutter to the ground and add to the carpet of those that had fallen before them. The ridge line overlooking the valley always had a gorgeous view this time of year, but the scenery wasn't the only nice thing to see.

Through the twelve times magnification of a telescopic sight, the full figure of a doe with her back to the viewer was brilliantly displayed. She had bent over at the stream in the bottom of the valley and was cupping water up in her paw and drinking. The angle of her body was exceptionally placed to display all her womanly assets. Her backside was almost perfectly heart shaped, and her womanhood glistened in the early morning light. She was very obviously in season. She stood back erect and her tail eased down over her backside, hiding her glistening sex between her thighs once again, but she turned and offered a very full view of her sizable breasts.

She probably wasn't more than two seasons into adulthood, but obviously she'd been claimed by a buck and had probably birthed one or two fawns. She began to walk away from the stream with a feminine sway in her hips. Whoever's territory this was, he was one lucky buck; or maybe, hopefully even, that was the other way around.

"Where's the whitetail stag that's going to be after that sweet looking ass of yours, honey?" A coyote in a florescent green jacket asked to the very much out of earshot doe.

He wasn't anything special, as far as coyotes go. His coat was the typical reds, browns and stray black fur with the usual white belly from his neck to his tailbase. In everyday life, he was average as average goes. Had huge aspirations in college that turned into marrying a girlfriend he knocked up and bar tending a honkytonk dance club where he could ogle the city girls trying to look country in lace-less boots and cutoff shorts. Certainly not to say he wasn't happy with his lot in life but he always felt it was a little drab.

The one real claim to fame he had, if you could even call it that, was he always seemed to bag large bucks every season. Even with the populations up enough that does had been huntable for more than ten years, he always found a buck for a trophy. He'd even bagged one during bow season one year with a recurve the very first time he had ever bow hunted. That particular buck's head hung in his living room with it's taxidermied paws holding the arrow that killed it.

"Mmm ... pity you want to stay out in these woods all feral ... I'd love to explore that wild side you're looking for."

"It_is_rather nice." A deep voice echoed in his ears from behind him, causing him to jump and look back with his heart racing.

A large buck with his musculature visible even through his thick coat stood over him. His arms were folded and he looked down with a coy smile at the coyote. His rack sported twelve points, and the scratches on the bone-like weapons adorning his head like a crown and his thick neck stated that he obviously knew how to use them. The coyote's eyes traveled down his defined chest and abdomen to his large sheath and shapely balls, arousal from the scent of the doe displaying a thick tapered head kissing the air in anticipation of the events to come. The smaller canid actually whimpered a little as fear of the buck getting the drop on him sank in.

"You have got to be about the dumbest hunter I've ever seen." The buck said with a chuckle. "That tree you're laying by is one of my scent rubs. Your nose must be dulled from all that tobacco you reek of."

"I ... I was just-"

"Eying something that belongs to me." The buck started as he stepped closer, bringing his musky crotch nearly right against they coyote's muzzle. "You see, anything that wanders into my territory does so for only one of two reasons; They either want to test their mettle against me to see if they have the right to take what's mine, or they want to be mine."

"I ... have a family. Please don't ..." The coyote begged.

"You don't look like much. You're certainly no buck, so that means you must be a doe." He paused as he put his paw on the back of the coyote's head and pulled his muzzle against his sheath. "Lucky for you, I just happen to be in the mood to breed a doe."

The coyote tried to pull away but the buck balled his fist and grabbed a clump of the scruffy fur on his head and pulled him right back into his crotch. The canine couldn't help but notice the large endowment of the buck rapidly growing, and a large dollop of pre leaked from the tip and smeared against his muzzle and cheek.

"A doe that acts like she doesn't want it always makes for the best fuck. I think they try to resist for show. They're always moaning and begging me to seed them before it's over, just like you will."

The coyote knew he couldn't physically resist the buck, and the scent of the buck's musk was openly assaulting his senses. He closed his eyes and tried weakly once more to pull away, but it was halfhearted and as soon as the fur began to tug, he stopped. There'd be no getting out of giving the buck what he wanted.

Opening his muzzle slightly while his eyes were still closed, he felt the buck tug his headfur and pull it back, and then the pre-dripping tip pushed past his lips. The salty tasting tapered end hit his tongue. He could taste the days of rutting, sweat and musk from chasing his willing or otherwise does across the acres of woods and hills, the burning desire that these ferals refused to suppress and the instincts they embrace. The buck moved his other paw onto the coyote's head and pulled him back to his body, forcing his still growing member across the length of the coyote's tongue and rested it on the edge of his throat.

"Start sucking." The buck ordered. "Get me ready to breed that sweet pussy of yours."

A hot bright heat flooded into the coyote's cheeks. He was filled with a mix of embarrassment, shame, and much to his surprise, arousal. He complied with the order and tightened his lips around the pulsing shaft and he suckled hard. He heard the wet slurp of his sucking echo in his ears as the intense flavor spread like a wildfire from his tongue and through the rest of his body. Probably the most shameful thing of all, he felt the button fly of his surplus camouflaged pants grow tighter as his own member pressed against the fabric.

The buck eased his hips back and thrust them forward, causing the end of the coyote's muzzle to bump against his body. The canine suckled as the buck worked himself into a steady rhythm while both of them enjoyed the buck's length growing to full readiness in the warm slick muzzle. They both knew that it wasn't the first time the coyote had sucked a dick. The elongated cock sleeve on the coyote's face knew too well how to work the soft tongue in all the right spots.

Were it not for the circumstances of the coupling the coyote would have just let himself get completely lost in the moment and enjoy it entirely, but he knew he had to keep the presence of mind to survive the encounter. After all, when the sport is hunting, the game is always life and death. Nevertheless, the thought of being ravished by such a fine specimen was more than enough to keep the closet bottom more than happy about the terrifying encounter.

The deer roughly moved his paws to the ears of the canine and yanked them. The coyote yelped but kept the presence of mind not to let his sharp and deceptively predatory canines away from the sensitive flesh. He used his ears as leverage to thrust harder, nearly triggering the coyote's gag reflex every time the length rubbed the back of his throat. The only response the coyote could think of was to softly rub his paws up the backs and flanks of the buck's thighs in gratitude for the forcible face fuck.

It didn't take long for the telltale signs of the buck's rapidly approaching orgasm to become noticeable. The coyote increased his effort as he felt the buck tense, throwing more flair into the work with his tongue and sucking with more fervor. His hopes were short lived however. The buck suddenly released his head and pulled away from him. He let the length of the buck's member slip from his lips with an audible moan.

"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy." The buck said cruelly as he looked at the coyote's begging expression. "Stand up, bend over and grab that tree. I'd recommend you take your pants off if you want to leave with more than tattered rags when I'm done with you."

The coyote nodded and then picked himself up as quickly as he could. He turned his back to the buck and unfastened his belt. No sooner was the belt buckle loose than he felt the buck grab the thick cotton material right along the seams and yank it down. The tail flap button ripped off, causing an uncomfortable tugging as it was pulled forcibly over his tail and down to his ankles. They coyote managed to stay on his feet despite nearly loosing his balance and even managed to pull his long thermal underwear down by himself before the buck had a chance to rip them out of the way too.

His tail was gripped at the base with the buck's right paw as the left came to rest on his shoulder. He could feel the buck squat down a little to line up his shot, and then he heard the bare hoof on his foot scrape the ground as a blast of heat from a rugged snort washed over the back of his neck and ears. Then like a rifle shot, it happened.

No warning, no preparation other than the little saliva the coyote could leave linger on his shaft and what little pre he allowed to linger, just sudden earth-shattering penetration. His unaccustomed muscle ring was stretched painfully around the girth that he could barely hold between his rows of teeth. He yipped and whined like an injured pup, but the only purpose it served was to drive the buck to reach deeper into the primal instincts he had embraced by rejecting society.

He was on the verge of crying as the assault on his backside jackhammered him. The whitetail's large fur covered sack slapped against the cheeks of the coyote's rear as his member was sheathed to the hilt over and over. The coyote gritted his teeth and growled as he dug his claws into the tree. It became obvious very quickly that this misperceived sign of aggression toward the buck's actions was a bad idea.

The large beast picked the smaller canine up by the waist and pushed him into the rough bark of the tree and held him so that his feet were almost a full foot from the ground and the buck could thrust up into him without the discomfort of accommodating his stance. The coyote now had the rough treatment on his backside as well as his front as the hard impacts of the buck radiated through his body and rubbed him against the tree.

Even with the primal aggression and sheer show of dominance and force, the buck's grunts and snorts began to transition to deeply satisfied moans as the coyote's whimpers and whines turned into longing pants and soft coos. The pain had all but faded and all that was left was the carnal enjoyment of a much more masculine figure exerting his rightful claim over an effeminate mate. It was a role the coyote hadn't played in many years, so long in fact that he had forgotten how much he missed it.

The natural slight curve and gently tapered tip made sure to hit all the right places as it slid against the silky walls inside his rear. He shivered as his own member rested against the tree, his knot fully inflated begging to tie with something, but it was the only part of his body that wanted to be dominant. The whitetail stag he'd been hunting had completely turned the tables on him, and struck every submissive cord in his body.

Somewhere in the midst of it the buck even nuzzled the back the coyote's neck and gave him a gentle love bite. Not to say that he wasn't enjoying being rough and completely dominant over the smaller canine, but something just seemed to fall naturally into place. They both knew that at this moment, this was exactly where they were both meant to be.

When the buck's member began pulsing and swelling inside the coyote once more, they both knew their time together was drawing to a close with mixed emotions. The smaller sharp toothed creature managed to work his paws back behind him so that he could spread his cheeks for the larger plant eater that he belonged to could claim him deep and proper. With a loud grunt and a hard thrust, the deer shoved himself as deep inside the coyote as their bodies would allow.

His length pulsed as a hot jet of his rut fueled seed shot deep into the coyote's bowels. A shaky moan left the coyote's muzzle as he felt the buck cum in him and more of his thick semen flood in with each new throb. The buck held the coyote against the tree as the front of his body was pressed against his back. Their panting as the tryst subsided spread from their mouths and noses in hot steam against the cold breeze.

The buck lowered the coyote to the ground and let his member slip from his now well used tailring with a lewd slurp. He grunted as the coyote moaned and braced himself against the tree to keep from falling over. He could hear the buck shuffling around behind him but he didn't pay much attention to it until his strong paws fell on his shoulders again and forced him to his knees.

He turned his head and looked up at the buck over his shoulder. The buck smiled coyly once again at the coyote and then closed his eyes and grit his teeth. The canine was a little surprised when a warm stream of the buck's urine suddenly splashed against his face. He closed his eyes to keep the liquid from blinding him as the intense musk and wet warmth soaked his fur, trickled down his neck over his shoulders and back, soaking into his clothes.

The coyote felt the stream pick up to it's full intensity as the buck continued to relieve himself on him. He eased his body more toward the buck and sulked a little lower, opening his muzzle to let some of the urine graze his tongue. The taste was so strong, probably because of the added pheromones from the rut. It was every bit as intense and enjoyable as sucking on the buck's cock was.

The buck's bladder didn't hold out long though, and much too quickly for the coyote's taste, the stream turned into a trickle, then a dribble, and then an occasional drop. With a heavy sigh of relief, the buck stepped back from his newest doe. The little doe looked up at him again, opening his eyes to see his new buck. The buck smiled like he knew that the coyote understood what this meant.

"Stick around as long as you like. I might come back and give you another go after I chase down that other doe that all your moaning probably scared off." The buck said as he turned and picked up the hunter's rifle. "I'll just hang onto this so you don't try and bear your teeth at anyone again. Shouldn't be an issue now that you know your place."

The buck fiddled with the detachable magazine release and dropped the magazine on the forest floor, then worked the bolt back and ejected the chambered round. He dropped the rifle at his side in one paw and sniffed the air. Fortunately, he was able to pick up the scent of the doe he was originally looking for when he found the would-be intruder.

He took to steps away and then heard a loud snap, like a branch breaking. It was close and distant at the same time, and the sound echoed in his ears, and then was replaced by a ringing. His chest suddenly felt heavy, and his knees weak. He managed to turn around and see the coyote looking at him with the same coy smile that he had given the coyote, now a full lifetime ago.

A small wisp of smoke trickled from the barrel of a revolver that was leveled at him, and that was the image burned into his eyes as he saw his vision blacken from outside in and toppled backward. He could hear the coyote shuffle around, his belt buckle fasten, and then the smoking iron slide into form fitted leather. The leaves on the forest floor cracked and crinkled under the coyote's feet paws, and he heard the magazine and loose round picked up from the ground. The magazine slid into the rifle and the bolt clacked as the chamber was primed again.

It was very surreal though. He could hear it all, see in his mind what was going on, but it was like listening to it through ear muffs. He drew a breath but it was suddenly cut in half and he coughed hard. He could actually feel his lungs filling with his own blood. He'd never been killed before, and he was grateful that it was something he only had to do once.

"Well ..." He heard the coyote say from miles away as he knelt down beside him. "If you taste half as good as your dick did, my kids are going to love the steaks I make outta you."

It was funny. He didn't know why, but if he was capable of laughing, he'd have laughed at the city hick's joke.

"Now don't take it hard and don't take it personal. You know how it goes. After all, I am the predator, you're the prey." The coyote leaned down and kissed the buck softly on the cheek, then eased away and pulled a large bowie knife from its sheath on the back of his belt. "Besides, you may not be the biggest buck I've ever bagged, but you'll certainly be one of the most memorable."

The whitetail was oddly comforted by the last thing he heard from the coyote. He felt the cold sharp steel edge of the knife rest against his throat, and with almost no effort it was dragged across the length of it to mercifully end him. It was only a matter of seconds as he felt his consciousness slip away from him. Just like the rest of it, there was no pain. The only thing that was on his mind was the feeling that they both knew that at this moment, this was exactly where they were both meant to be.

THE END