FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Sucks you've got your first shift at eight, bro," said one of the waiters to a similarly dressed male. Both were wearing khaki slacks and a dark-black polo with a small embroidering of a Lunatone above the heart. The iconography represented that very club the two were in, Pokémon Night-Care, a bar and pleasure hotel for Pokémon and their trainers. It was a classy affair--mostly. The newbie in question had medium-length brown hair and a pair of green eyes. On the opposite side of that embroidered moon, a name-tag glinted in the dim light: Marcus.

"Gotta start some time!" he replied with a cheery smile. In truth, the male was a bit nervous about his first shift at Night-Care, especially as it was during one of the busiest times of day--on a Friday no less! The various waitresses and barstaff that ran the floor seemed to have a small sheen of sweat to them already as they bussed from table to table, sometimes carrying large platters with a rainbow of assorted drinks upon them.

"Heh, we'll see what you say after your shift is over, new-guy," that greeter replied. "We've got a few set up at booth nine for you. Don't screw up too badly--we pool tips."

Marcus couldn't help but sweat a little bit at this, giving a small anxious laugh. He made his way over to the booth section, thankful that their numbers were posted at the edges of each table, having not yet memorized the layout of the place. The clientele at the club were as diverse as the drinks served, ranging from Sky Trainers and their flying Pokémon, to Veterans and Aces. Coming up to his table, the new waiter saw the characteristic outfit of an Ace trainer, and a large-eared Pokémon. He put on a smile and gave his greeting spiel.

"Good evening, my name is Marcus and I'll be your host for tonight," he began, passing out a drink menu to the sole human at that booth and giving a short smile to the male's Pokémon, now discernable as a Noivern. "May I get you or your Noivern something to start off your night with?" asked he.

The trainer shook his head, although he glanced down the menu at the list of Pokédrinks. There was a silent exchange between the Ace and his Noivern, human tapping at various drinks on the list and receiving a shake or nod from the dragon-bat. At last, it seemed, a decision was made between the two of them, and the trainer brought the drink-list back to himself, tilting it towards his host.

"I'm not going to be staying long, but Hindel will have the Oran Screwdriver," ordered the Noivern's owner, folding up that menu and sliding towards the edge of the booth. He tugged a bit at his shirt collar, as if he found the club atmosphere stiflingly hot. "And just give me a water."

Marcus nodded, taking that menu and leaving the two to themselves for the time being. Due to the nature of the job, as well as his newness to it, he was only in charge of that single table for the night--not that he minded. Ace trainers tipped stereotypically well according to the other staff, and he found it lucky that he would be hosting one for his first shift.

He relayed the drinks to the bartender, a Lucario dressed up in a black vest. The Pokémon's spike poking between the center-line of buttons, fabric stretching a bit as he mixed the Screwdriver into a glass, squeezing an Oran right above it, juices dribbling down into it and giving the drink a bluish tint. That fighting-type gave a wordless grunt, setting the glasses onto Marcus's tray, who then ferried them back to his customers.

"Here you are, sirs," the waiter said with a smile, setting the drinks in front of their respective requesters. Marcus slid a chair up to the edge of the booth, sitting down and resting a pair of clasped hands on the table-top. "So what can I interest you in this evening? We have a wide variety of services and drinks..." His voice trailed off with the trainer's stare.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," the male said, taking a sip of his ice water after. "I'm a--well, Hindel is a regular here, and he doesn't seem to recognize you either."

"Ah, well, this is my first night working here, so I apologize in advance if--"

"No need for that," the trainer cut off, drink back down on a cork coaster. "I think the hour-special would be a good choice for Hindel," said he, turning to look at the bat. The critter gave a nod of approval, his large ears bobbing a bit with the motion. "You've got training with that, right? You can handle my Hindel?"

"Of course sir! We at Pokémon Night Care take great pride in our training procedures--so much so that even a newbie like me can handle an experienced Pokémon or person." The way Marcus replied seemed almost scripted, and true enough it was one of those lines from his training that he had memorized in its entirety.

"Alright. I'll leave him in your care, then," the Ace replied, taking a long swig of his water, finishing it off and clacking the empty glass down on the table. "I'll be back in about an hour," he turned to the Noivern, "Hindel, don't be rough." With that, the trainer slid out from the booth and made his way to the front, paying for the drinks and the special service.

Marcus stood, replacing the chair from where he swiped it from. He made a move to take the spot where that trainer had been sitting, only to get a sharp, quick chirp from the Noivern, who scooted to the side to make room, and patted next to himself. The dim lighting made that bat look almost intimidating, even more-so than it'd look under sunlight. It cast prolonged shadows in the center of those large ears, and the red "v" of his nose gave a glint. Hindel had finished his drink sometime during that talk with his trainer, and his breath already held the tinge of alcohol.

"Noii," grunted the Pokémon, leaning closer onto Marcus, wrapping a claw up and around the waiter's shoulder. He was pulled into the dragon-bat's chest, face stuffed to that fluffed-up mane smelling of some mixture of berries and dirt. "Vrrrn..." he rumbled next, one of those winged hands gliding all the way down the waiter's side, groping at his hip, frisking him.

"Aah, would you like me to get you another drink, sir?" that host mumbled, finding his hand to fall right onto the Noivern's thigh, squeezing it a bit. The question received a grumble in return, but the squeeze made that bat open up his thighs, leading Marcus to fall further forward, landing face up in that lap. His face flushed redder, worsened by the lecherous stare given back to him by that Pokémon.

With a grin, Hindel brought a claw up to stroke down the waiter's chest, untucking and slipping under that polo to circle a single clawtip around the other male's bellybutton. The Noivern lifted that shirt up further and further until finally Marcus brought his hand up to the dragon's winged wrist, giving it a slight tug in the opposite direction.

"If you like, we could go back to the rooms now," said he, looking up at that Pokémon, his large ears blocking most of the light from above. He gave a rumbling churr in reply, slipping his paw back to himself, and pushing on the waiter's back with the other. "Alright, alright. I'll go get us some keys, wait here for me," Marcus replied, fixing his shirt as he slid out of the booth. Before he could quite leave it completely, the Noivern reached out, giving him a quick pinch to his backside, as if to tell the waiter to hurry himself up.

In no time at all, the host had returned, keys in hand. The Noivern's glass had been removed from the table, and said surface was wiped clean by some opportunistic dishboy. Upon seeing his waiter return, Hindel trotted towards the backrooms, as if he was leading the way to them. It seemed as if the Noivern knew the layout of the club like the back of his hand--definitely better than the new employee. He paused at the row of doors lining the hallway, looking to Marcus for the room number.

"We're in seven," the host replied, and that Noivern continued his trotting down, waiting impatiently in front of the door, tapping his feet on the ground a few times. As Marcus unlocked the room, the bat gave the male a sudden push from behind, shoving that waiter inside and swiping closed the door with his tail. He pressed himself against the human, tugging at that shirt once more and this time slipping it halfway over Marcus's head and guided him towards the room's bed. "W-wait!" the newbie worker managed to sputter out, unable to see as he stumbled over himself and fell backwards onto the mattress with a thwumph.

"Noiii," that drake replied, stretching out his wings and leaning over the blinded human, claws tugging at his waistband, somehow managing to undo the button and slide them down halfway to the waiter's thighs before Marcus could yank his shirt off completely, tossing it over the side of the bed, wiggling a bit in his tugged-down slacks.

"Haah, your trainer was right to tell you to be gentle," the waiter huffed, face a bit flushed. Sure, he understood his duties, and even had some experience of his own, but that Noivern was so dominating--it took charge of the situation and didn't seem to want to let it go. Yanking on the waiter's pants once more, the bat managed to strip them off completely, shoes as well, leaving Marcus in naught but a pair of black underwear. "Sheesh... you know what you want, don't you?" he muttered. That blush remained on his face a little while longer, burning at his cheeks as the Noivern stared him down.

"Verrrn." A short reply came back from that dragon's lips as he unceremoniously dropped that stripped clothing onto the floor. He grabbed at the waistline of that pair of underwear next, relentlessly tugging on them until Marcus's body was fully exposed, lying naked on the bed.

Almost immediately after, Hindel dragged that poor waiter to the edge of the bed by his ankles, spreading apart his thighs and tilting him back just a little, to reveal Marcus's entrance. The human struggled a bit, stammering some.

"Aah! W-wait a sec!" he called out, stretching as far as he could and managing to reach the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. The dragon-type didn't break five feet in height, but Pokémon tended not to be very proportionate in their genital regions. "C'mere and let me lube you up, first," the host said, beckoning with a finger. He squeezed a dollop of that clear jelly onto his palm, squishing it with his fingers to coat his entire hand.

The Noivern let out a puff of air from its nostrils, turning his head away almost indignantly. Even so, he took a few steps forward, lifting his hips up enough to plop his erect malehood across Marcus's soft one. It had the same stark red coloration as his nose-piece, though that was intermixed with a few lines of purple veins. As expected, it was rather large for the creature's height, a thick eight inches, and a complicated form. Bumps and ridges lined along the top of that shaft like a spine as it tapered out from a finger-sized point at the tip to nearly wrist size at the base.

"Let's get this nice and slick, huh?" Marcus said, looking up at the Noivern, who still avoided eye-contact with the waiter. Maybe he didn't like this part? Grasping hold of that rod, the bat gave out a hiss of disproval; his malehood twitched aghastedly. Marcus could feel the heat of that Noivern's arousal, even through the cool jelly. The violet veins upon it pulsed under his fingertips as he slickened the member from base to tip, sweeping his palm over that opening sensually. With a thick lathering of lubricant on that length, the waiter dipped his hand a bit lower and slid a few fingers over his pucker, spreading and wiping into it the excess jelly. Despite the warmth of that dragon's length, it was still cool against his ring, causing Marcus to clench up.

"Verrn!" The bat looked pointedly at the clock on that nightstand, returning to face the host. Time certainly seemed to fly when one was a bit buzzed, and there was a scant ten minutes left in Hindel's session. Taking the hint, Marcus smeared off the last of that jelly onto his taint, making it glint in the low light before lifting his legs up high and by his shoulders. Becoming so exposed caused a flush of heat across his face, invisible in the darkened room. That dragon-bat slipped himself forward, prodding his thick tip at the entrance to his host's rim, giving a short press forward.

"Hffhh... easy now..." the waiter muttered, though at this point it'd be impossible to control the Noivern should he decide to have a rough time with him. Hindel slid deeper and deeper into the human, giving off a low chur as he did. Marcus remained thankful for that lubricant, allowing what could have been a dry and splitting stretch to become something almost pleasant as the beast invaded his rear. "Aahh... there we go..." he groaned, feeling the base of that dragon come up to his cheeks, hilting inside his ring. Hindel wasn't the largest he had taken by far, though he was the first Pokémon that didn't belong to him. Something about that made the situation even more erotic--to the waiter, at least. It didn't seem like the Noivern cared either way--a hole was a hole to him.

"Noiiiihh!" that creature suddenly grunted, pushing himself forward and atop of the waiter. The bat's yellow eyes stared down into Marcus's holding eye-contact as he slid his hips backwards just a touch, and then suddenly pressed forward with a loud grunt across the host's face. Had the bat external testes, they would have smacked at the base of Marcus's spine, but instead only the smooth-lipped opening of that cloaca pressed up between his spread cheeks.

Curling his claws around the human's shoulders, Hindel began to steadily rut with the male, his lubricated member making lewd slurp-smack sounds as it invaded into that tight hole. Its ring throbbed around the bat, squeezing tightly whenever that red-violet rod smacked into a sensitive spot. Marcus rewarded those efforts with a strong groan, his own malehood stiffening upon his stomach, twitching as it neared an orgasm from just the dragon's fucking.

"Oohhh... hffhh..." he breathed, reaching up and wrapping his arms around the Noivern's back, pulling his upper body up just enough to breathe in the scent of the bat's fluffy mane. The human squeezed down on that member, trying to keep up with those heavy, deep thrusts, clenching his fistful of dragon-mane. He tugged on it, pulling the Noivern closer and closer until Hindel's body practically lied down on his own, grinding in contact as that beast came closer and closer to his peak.

With a shrill cry, Hindel slammed himself to his hilt inside the waiter, squeezing Marcus's shoulders as he orgasmed. Thick, gooey splurts of seed erupted from that shaft, rope after rope flooding into the human's rear and plastering its insides with a gooey covering that, not content to go further into the male, splurted out of his hole and onto the sheets below. That dragon's member throbbed hard within the confine of Marcus's squeezing ring, smashing up and grinding against the host's prostate, until he too hit his limit with a loud cry.

"Hhaaahh!" came the human's estactic moan, thick splurts of cream spluttering out his tip and onto his stomach, the Noivern gaining a small amount upon himself as well from the arc of those spurts. Panting hard, the waiter tilted his head to the side, trying to glance a look at the clock. Still a few minutes left, and so the Noivern remained inside. "Aahh... haahh... You know your stuff..." mumbled the waiter, dropping his grasp around the dragon and falling onto his back. He rubbed a few fingers through the mess on his stomach, smearing it into himself. He'd take a shower after the job was done--then it'd be another client.

"Vern." Hindel replied in almost a conceited fashion, as if to say "Of course"! Taking a glimpse over to the clock, the dragon pulled himself free of Marcus, whose legs flopped back down to a normal position. "Noi, noi." One claw pointed at his sticky length, the redness of it muted by a cloudy covering of seed. It seemed fairly obvious as to what he wanted done before the end of his hour.

"Not gonna waste a second, huh?" the waiter asked, though he slid to the edge of the bed and off of it, kneeling down in front of the bat. Sliding his tongue from the base to the tip was an easy job, though slightly messy with the Noivern's movement. Hindel wriggled his hips just enough so that malehood swatted Marcus's cheek, leaving a sticky line there before the waiter could clean up the dragon fully. He slobbered all the way up to the tip, suckling it clean before coming off with a pop. Despite his efforts, the drake was still in that refractory period, and the girthy eight-incher retracted back to its internal sheath, until just a little blip of red was visible between the Noivern's thighs. Right before the clock struck time, Marcus slid his tongue up the belly of that dragon, licking clean that bit of cum spurted by himself. It had a distinctly different taste in comparison to the bat's fruity flavoring.

A knock on the door came almost immediately after the clock hit its hour marking, and Marcus stood, slipping a robe over his nude form. The Ace trainer was back, at almost the perfect time. The experienced club-goer he was, he stood clear of the door's entrance as that Noivern exited, looking down at the shorter dragon-bat.

"Enjoy yourself, Hindel?" he asked, to which he received a nod to. The Noivern gave a few vocalizations, and the trainer nodded, as if--and probably--understanding. "Hmm, I see. That so? Well then," this time he turned to Marcus. "Hindel likes you, it seems; pretty lucky for you, since that was your first time with him and he's always a bit rough on first timers. Take this," the Ace continued, handing over a small bundle of cash. "I'm sure we'll see each other again sometime."

Clearly the Ace trainer wasn't one for small talk--at least not with other humans--and he quickly left, making his way to the front. Marcus gave a stretch, closing the door clicklessly. He had a fifteen minute window to shower and redress for his next client, and so he made his way to the far side of the room where the bath was hidden by a cheap divider. With a twist to its knobs, the shower came to life and Marcus disrobed as fast as he had put the garment on. Steam rose from the stream of water, and soon rose from the naked waiter himself as he rinsed himself thoroughly clean--though careful not to spend too much time in it.

Outside that divided bathroom-area, the door to the room started to creak open, and in poked the head of a Breloom, brought in curiously by the smell of sex. The grass creature trotted its way towards the bed, sniffing at the semen-marred sheets, before wandering its way over to the human's discarded clothing. The scents permeating the room only grew stronger with the humid moisture of the shower's steam, blackened windows beginning to fog up. The grass-type hopped up onto the bed, standing over the quasi-imprint of where the human had lain. It too had a strengthened odor, salty and musky in an exciting way to the wild critter.

The sounds from the shower stopped, and that Pokémon's head turned towards the divided off section curiously, tilting his head. A few moments later, a completely bare--save for the towel rubbing against his face--male walked out. He was dry, for the most part, though blind and naked without his clothing.

"Hfh, should've brought that in with me," he muttered, wiping his clean face dry before flicking the towel over his shoulder. For a moment he didn't realize that the room had been invaded until that Pokémon gave a vocalization.

"Loom!" It was a quick sound, almost as if the grass-type was giving a bark. Marcus's head whipped towards the bed, eyes widening a bit. He hadn't felt a need to cover himself due to the nature of his job, seeing the critter as another customer rather than some creature whom had wandered in a back door.

"Oh! I'm sorry sir, did I keep you waiting?" he asked, quickly folding up the towel and setting it down near the base of the bed. "I'll be glad to help service you now, and credit you for the time I was showering," continued he, running some fingers through his thick hair, ruffling it up a bit until it settled into a neat mess.

"Loom, loom," the creature replied back, not quite understanding what the human was talking about, it tilted its head to the side, examining the male's nudity curiously. Marcus took a few steps closer to the bed. "Breeh!" grunted he, taking a small scoot backwards on the bed, tripping over the blanket and falling onto his back. Like the Noivern, the Breloom had a slit right between his legs, interior lined with a slight pink-red flesh. The scents enveloping the room seemed to have caused some manner of arousal in the wild Pokémon, as a short tip peaked free from his cloacal lips, glinting with moisture.

Interpreting the Breloom's trip backwards as an invitation for other things, Marcus leaned over the side of the bed, giving a gentle stroke to the insides of that creature's thighs. His fingertips brushed gently downwards, sweeping over that cleft of a cloaca, flicking up between and down for a brief moment. He lowered his head a bit, giving a soft exhale against the Breloom's slit, the breeze coaxing another centimeter of it out. It had a similar shape to the Noivern's as well, though it was missing most of the bumpy ridges atop it.

Marcus brought both hands down to the center of that Breloom's groin, stroking at the sides of his opening, applying a little pressure with his fingers. The soft groan of that Pokémon encouraged him further, and he dipped forward giving a quick flick of his tongue along the Breloom's tip, swiping from the very bottom of that cloaca to the wettest part of that tip.

"Mmfn..." mumbled that waiter, closing his eyes a bit to nurse at the exposed inch. He wriggled his tongue against that warm shaft, lapping up whatever moistness he could. It had an earthy taste to it--not quite like mud or dirt, but of a peculiar bitterness that was somehow just the slightest bit sweet. At some point, Marcus gave up trying to mentally describe it in his mind, just focusing on the way it tingled upon his taste buds, bobbing just a bit back and forth to draw the malehood out further into his lips.

"L-loom...!" grunted that grass-type, his paws now clutching at the bedspread suddenly. He hadn't expected the human to do that of all things. At the same time however, it just felt so nice and good that he couldn't bring himself to fight it, growing more and more aroused, albeit at a slow pace. Precum drooled from his tip, laced with almost addictive spores that were characteristic to his species. They had no real harmful effect aside from some lightheadedness to those who weren't accustomed to them--namely non-Breloom species.

Inhaling deeply at the base of that grass-type's crotch, the host immersed himself unknowingly in those effect spores, feeling his body start to tingle all over, member stiffening despite its recent release with the Noivern. Bobbing one last time down that prick, the human pulled himself off of the three inch thing, breathing haughtily. The pink-shaped rod gave a slight twitch as it left the warm confines of Marcus's mouth, though once those lips dipped lower and a particular tongue pressed up against the Breloom's rear entrance those twitch-worthy thoughts were forgotten.

"Mmgglhkh," made that wet sound of tongue in cloacally hidden ring, Marcus's taster pressing past those firm, almost defiant, lips as it wiggled against the grass-type's exit. His thumbs tugged on the Breloom's lower half once more, spreading that cloaca wider as the human seemed to make out with it, slathering it with drool and spittle, soaking it to a shiny sheen of moistness. At this point, the Breloom's maleness had reached its peak, a modest four inches in comparison to the Noivern from before, but still a well-off size for a Pokémon of his stature.

"Loooom!" grumbled he indignantly, glaring at Marcus as he left his spot from between those legs, leaving his rim moist and prick needy. Through his glare he watched the male squirt some clear jelly out onto his palm, then glide it over his nether region, which appeared larger than before. He tilted his head a bit as the human stepped forward, and pressed a few cool fingers to his pucker, sliding them inside, and making a wriggling motion with them, stretching out that already wet ring. "Br-breh!" he whined, lower-legs kicking a bit, though the motions made by that human felt strangely well.

"Relax just a little bit," the host said with guiding tone. His face was flushed, though not from embarrassment. He had a dazed look on his face as his digits slipped in and out of that pucker, finally plopping out with a wet sound. "There we go... ready for it?" he asked, looking down at what he thought to be a client.

"Loom...?" came the reply, adorned with yet another tilt of his head. He wasn't quite sure what the human was asking, but up until now it had felt nice. Seeing that the male was waiting for some sort of response, the grass-type gave a short nod, curious to what would happen next. The bed creaked just the tiniest bit as the human added himself to it, leaning on it from the side. A wet glans prodded at the lower opening of that cloaca, pushing past the slit's opening to nestle right up against the Breloom's pucker.

"Haah, here I go," said the host, placing his hands upon the creature's hips, giving a soft grunt as he slid himself forward and into the Pokémon. Almost immediately the critter squeezed shut, giving a low grunt of almost disapproval, fighting the entry of that cockhead. Ultimately Marcus won out, and with a pleasured huff his shaft soon followed. The Breloom must have been new to this, thought Marcus, on account for how tight he is. Moving at a gentler pace now, the waiter rocked his hips back and forth, adjusting his entry bit by bit as he searched around for the grass-type's button.

It didn't take long to find it, the Breloom giving out a cry of pleasure as its prostate was prodded. A thick splurt of precum jetted out from that four-inch prick, splattering onto the creature's chest, and starting to drool off of it. With that little button found, the human began a series of rhythmic thrusts into the grass-type, feeling that tail flex up and swat his tailbone with each successive hilting. The Breloom's rim clenched tighter and tighter as time went on, until finally that Pokémon gave out a long moan and reached his limit, sending spurt after spurt of gooey 'loom-seed above his head in a tremendous display of ejaculate force.

His ring squeezed down tightly upon the invading member, clenching it hard and heavily, rim throbbing around Marcus as if he was trying to milk a load out of the light-headed waiter. And, just a moment after the Breloom had orgasmed, the host followed, giving a long groan as he hit his second peak of the night. It wasn't nearly as impressive as the first, though a good amount of cream splurted its way into the Breloom's bottom, some even leaking out of that tailhole with Marcus's final few thrusts.

"Haahh... hahh... oh jeeze..." breathed out the waiter breathlessly. He held himself inside that tight rim for as long as he could--a few seconds--then a knock at the door. "Hah... one second!" he called out, slowly slipping himself free. The bathrobe being by the shower now, the waiter wrapped a towel around his waist and answered the door, coming face to face with the manager.

"The heck you doin' back here?" grunted the manager, his nose scrunched up a bit.

"A client, sir, didn't you send him back here?" replied Marcus confusedly, pointing at the Breloom on the bed. At this point the critter was in a post orgasmic daze, eyes glazed over a bit.

"Sonny, that's no client o' ours. He looks wild, too." The manager stepped into the room, snapping his fingers over the Breloom's face. "Yep. Wild," he nodded. "Tamed him right nice 'n good, though," continued he, rubbing his chin. "I guess I'll consider yer provisional period a pass--if ya can get a wild 'mon like that to pass out then ya've got to be some good at the job."

"Oh! Uh, thank you, sir!" Marcus replied, a bit embarrassed. In hindsight, it should have been obvious that the Breloom wasn't a client.

"Yeah, yeah. Get yer shower and get back to the bar, we'll have more guests comin' in soon."

"Yes sir, right away!"