FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Brown truck, neatly pressed brown shirt, and brown packages. Remy checked his pearly whites in the side view mirror before checking the address on the house. The pine marten took a genuine pride in his job: setting up his routes, staging the packages, delivering them all with a smile and a little friendly chit-chat. He loved being the guy that delivered that anxiously awaited item, especially when it was to an attractive recipient.

It might be the stuff of "Dear Editor, I never thought it would happen to me", but Remy knew that not all those B grade porn stories were pure fantasy. Every once in a while his charming personality met up with some woman's delivery boy fantasy and he got lucky with his own package. It was a rare event, and took a certain boldness to go with it when the chance popped up. Most of the other drivers had a tale of an offer or two, but were quick to deny any follow through. Remy played the quiet sort with the coworkers. Nobody would have suspected that with every delivery the marten was putting his smooth moves on every pretty customer who'd entertain them.

It'd been a boring Tuesday. Some days were slammed from start to stop and Remy could hardly find the time to stop for lunch. Others, like that Tuesday, he could have finished up in six hours if he wanted a quick day. Sometimes on days like that he'd breeze through and get home early, but usually he preferred to string things out and pad his paycheck. He didn't have a choice that day, really. The last package of the shift had a special delivery request for 4:30. Remy hated that shit, and had it been a busy day he'd have just gotten to it when he got to it. It'd turned into a nice afternoon: a couple coffee stops, dine-in lunch, and a few episodes of his favorite TV show streaming to his tablet as the marten kicked back in the mall parking lot.

He had to take the bad with the good, though. There hadn't been any fun and flirty encounters the entire shift, not even a wry smirk or a witty remark. Hell, even the old ladies weren't responding to his playful banter as they met him at their doorways. There was always one last stop; the special delivery. Remy shook his head as he moved to the back of his truck to retrieve the last surviving package. It never happened like that. It was never the last house of the day when he got lucky. As cliché as delivery boy sex escapades were, they were never that cliché.

Or were they?

Remy cracked a toothy smile when he noticed the package's origin sticker. How had he missed the "Robertson Beauty Supply Company" earlier? The innocent sounding name and completely unmarked (except for the labels) brown box gave every impression that it was simply an order of makeup or other "beauty" supplies. People were nervous about ordering adult items through the mail, and so every company makes a big point of how "discreet" their packages are. Remy wondered why people felt so concerned about what their package handlers thought. The marten also wondered why people assumed that someone like him, who handled hundreds of boxes every day, wouldn't know exactly what those company's fake names were.

Remy tested the weight of the small box in his hands. Not too heavy, but dense, with the weight pretty even but a little heavier on one side. Dildo and lube? Probably. His perverted mind was already running through absurd scenarios where he'd get to demonstrate how the toys worked on a moaning woman before stuffing her himself; scratching her itch that could never be truly satisfied with a piece of silicone. He wondered if Miss Emily Smith would be a young college girl or a middle aged housewife in need of a thrill. Either way, he had things to show them.No, no he had to stop. The marten took a few deep breaths and felt the bulge in his pants tick down. Gotta play it cool, not run up to the door panting like a dog and with a big tent in his work slacks.

4:27, perfect. Just enough time to straighten out his fur and check his teeth for any lunchtime leftovers. Remy tucked the box under his arm and hopped from the side door with a display of bravado that nobody but himself would appreciate. He chewed up and swallowed the breath mint that he'd popped a few moments ago. Those things didn't help for more than a minute or so, but if he was talking to Miss Smith for a full minute then things were definitely going well.

Standing on the porch the marten could hear the TV on inside the house. Good, she was home. Would have really sucked to get himself all worked up and not even catch a glimpse of the gal. Remy took a deep breath at the door before giving it a pair of firm knocks. Off went the TV and then came eager sounding footsteps on what he guessed must be a hardwood floor. He felt a twinge of giddy anticipation as the deadbolt clicked and the door creaked open.

"Ma'am," he grinned and drunk in the sight of the wolf on the other side of the threshold. He couldn't have imagined that Miss Smith would be wearing only a red bathrobe. The wolf looked to be late twenties, on the tall side, and with lovely patches of black interspersed in the mostly grey coat. Remy's eyes wandered down, following the V shape opening in the robe till that fur turned white and where he could just start to see the top of her breasts and the outline of a bra. Scents of high quality fur conditioner and perfume hit his nose, adding to the just-out-of-the-shower look she had. He shuffled his hips a tiny bit, trying to stealthily alleviate the tightness in his pants that was becoming more and more obvious by the second.

Remy felt his ears flush in embarrassment when he heard Miss Smith clear her throat. Damn, he was being clumsy as hell about this. The usual smooth moves Remy wouldn't get caught staring like that. He had to look up slightly to meet the gaze of her golden-yellow eyes, but to his surprise there was no "my eyes are up here" comment from her; perhaps because _her_eyes were trained lower on his body than he expected.

"Hi," she squeaked out, as though she meant to speak normally but found her voice feigning. Her robe loosened and opened a sliver more than it had been, just enough to show it was intentional but not enough to come off as too forward. Too bad. Remy liked forwardness. "Do I need to sign for this?"

The marten shook his head, taking a single step towards her. She didn't recoil whatsoever. It was hard to tell through the perfume but he thought he got a tiny whiff of female arousal. This was it, time to make his move.

"I, uh," Remy looked up at her eyes, smirking. "I hear this company has some amazing beauty products." He put a strong emphasis on the word 'beauty', letting her know damn well that he knew.

This time it was her who took a step forward. "I've never tried them before..."

"Would you like someone to show you how they work?"

Remy held his breath, hearing only his heartbeat in his own ears for what seemed like forever. He was either about to get laid or get smacked.

Miss Smith took a few steps back and his heart fell through the floor before he noticed her finger beckoning him to follow. He did, closing the door behind them as he entered the unfamiliar house. Well kept, nice décor, smelled of wolf and...something else he couldn't put a finger on. The shoes by the door included a pair of muddy work boots: hooved variety. Definitely was a husband who probably wasn't going to appreciate his house and wife stinking of pine marten, but that wasn't Remy's problem. He'd be long gone by then. Miss Smith his ass, more like Misses Smith.

"We have time," she said, clearly having noticed his surveying. What she did next caught him off guard. Safe in the confines of her house from the potential prying eyes of neighbors any hint of shyness was vanishing. She growled softly as her long muzzle pressed against his surprised one.

Remy let the box fall to the floor as he felt his back being pressed up against the just-closed door. He whimpered and wrapped his arms around the robed wolf, letting her eager tongue into his maw. In the scarce moments of cognitive thought he had between mutual nuzzles and kisses he wondered if she too had a habit of delivery boy encounters. The robe, the eagerness, the sex toy delivery.

"Ooahhh," he shivered as Misses Smith's fingers found the stiff shaft trapped and outlined in his pants. She growled at him again and squeezed his desperately trapped cock. Remy could only whimper and press into her hand dumbly.

"Now, now, little marten, I believe you promised me a product demonstration." She stepped back from her quivering prey and glanced down at the box.

Remy tried bending at the waist to retrieve the box, but winced at the strain on his erection that that caused and had to squat down to get it. The wolf chuckled at his discomfort before walking down a hallway near the kitchen and letting her robe fall off, letting him see her exposed backside and perfectly proportioned curves. Her tail swayed opposite her hips with each step and she hummed to herself. The marten fumbled clumsily with the box, tearing and clawing at it until he was able to access the contents.

He was right about it: dildo and bottle of lube. The black silicone toy was bigger than he was, which Remy didn't like, and of the canine variety--knot and all. He grabbed it in one hand and the lube in the other and raced towards the room that Misses Smith disappeared into.

Maybe it was best that he hadn't followed her in immediately. If he hadn't been--perhaps intentionally on her part--distracted with the box he wouldn't have been greeted by the sight he got on entering her room. She was lying on her back, tail flicking off to the side and legs spread for him. Remy almost couldn't handle it. He tried his best to control his breathing as he climbed on the bed, so close to her exposed pink. She licked her lips as her eyes caught sight of the toy she'd ordered; no doubt one she'd been eagerly waiting for.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she scolded him as his hands fumbled with his belt. "You can get a turn once you give me what you offered."

Remy groaned in disappointment. He was so close to her that he could feel the heat coming off her and the intoxicating scent of canine arousal was inescapable. The marten felt like he was going to explode if he couldn't at least let himself free. He'd play her game, he thought as he took the dildo by the base and traced the tip of it across her inner thigh. He'd do anything she wanted if she would let him fuck her.

The touch of the toy made her thin fur twitch down there, and he teased it up towards the damp fur around her mound. Her toeclaws dug into the sheets as he spread her with the tapered canine facsimile. Remy looked on with fascination as the black shaft disappeared into the hungry depths of Misses Smith all the way up to that big bulbous knot. The marten bit his lip and gave the toy a slight twist, making the wolf moan and squirm in response. He wished that was his cock in there spreading her out, mixing his pre and her juices while he kissed her again. He wished he had a knot like that, too. Lucky canines getting to have all the fun features.

"Oohh, I see why this had five stars," she moaned as he pulled it out, drawing some sticky strands with it before pushing back in. He didn't say anything, just went to work with slow strokes in and out, teasing her lips with the knot every time and watching with amusement as her hips moved up to meet it. He'd never used a toy on a woman before, but he had to admit there was something fascinating about watching that thick thing working its way in and out of her. The fact that it was black was perfect for seeing her juices on it get heavier and heavier as he went on; making for quite the bouquet for the horny marten's nose.

Soon she was gripping at the sheets and squirming her legs about this way and that, muttering incomprehensible things to herself. Remy pushed harder. It only took a few times before the knot spread her wide open and then disappeared in an instant behind her full lips. The effects were just as immediate. Misses Smith cried out in primal canine lust and instinct as she felt the bulb trapped inside of her. Her legs and thighs quivered and trusted against the toy. Her hand found Remy's head and gripped it painfully as she rode out her orgasm.

It seemed to Remy to last for forever, and he was held in place until the panting female above him let go and relaxed, giving him a few apologetic pats on the head.

"Sorry, it's just been so long since I felt a knot inside me." She removed the dildo with a pop, a whimper, and a drizzle of fluid. Remy couldn't help but stare at that wide open entrance. "Your turn, cutie."

Remy didn't need any further encouragement. He stood up next to the bed and had his belt off and pants down in seconds, kicking them off to the side and crawling onto the bed. It felt so amazing to finally let his shaft out into the air after so much teasing of it.

She seemed content to stay on her back and let him fuck her missionary, which is exactly what he wanted. The marten steadied himself on his knees and pressed his throbbing head against her hot sex, watching his own shaft slide in this time. It was so much better than toying her. He gasped as those warm, wet folds welcomed his arousal. He placed his hands against her sides and nuzzled her as he felt his hip fur met hers. They kissed again, much deeper this time, while he started to rock slowly into her.

That's when things took a turn. Remy heard a door open. Not the front door, no, something much closer: the bedroom closet. He tried to turn and look but felt the wolf's claws dig into the back of his head and kept it facing right into her eyes.

"Remy, Remy..."

The male voice was familiar, and the Marten wanted to run from whatever was happening, and then he felt Misses Smith gyrate her hips and he felt pleasure again. Someone was behind him. He jumped as he felt a hand on his rump, then a finger traced under his tail and the Marten whimpered. It felt good. It had been a long time since someone touched him back there, since college at least.

The new voice came back. "I know you've been fucking customers for years on and off, trying to tickle their package boy fantasy. What you don't know is how long I've been looking at that tight little tail of yours. You can't believe how hot it was to watch you get my wife off and fuck her."

Remy swallowed when he realized why the voice sounded so familiar. That was his boss, this was his boss's house, and he was balls deep in his boss's wife. Smith was such a common name, how could he have known? He felt her let go of his head and he snapped it around to look at the big moose with that unmistakable rack of antlers standing behind him as naked as Remy and the wife were.

"John, I..."

"Oh, you're fine, Remy. This was my idea, you know. You see," the moose picked up the bottle of lube that was discarded on the floor next to the box and began to spread it across his fingers, "we like to have playmates sometimes and I knew you wouldn't be able to say no to my cockslut wife." John worked some of the clear liquid from the bottle across his dangling shaft. Remy would have figured the massive moose would be absolutely huge down there, but he really was only a little over average.

Remy wanted to be turned off or offended or scared. That was his boss for fuck's sake, he couldn't possibly see Mister Smith like this. He did, though, when he heard the squelching sound of a cock being lubed up and watched the moose stroke himself. It'd been so long since Remy had been mounted, he'd tried so hard to repress that side of him, but all he wanted was to feel that spot deep inside him get pressed again. His ears flattened and his tail twitched ever upwards and he knew he belonged to the couple.

The marten felt himself throbbing and leaking deep inside the wolf, even though they hadn't moved for at least a minute. A claw lifted his chin up, drawing him into another kiss with the wolf. He felt her longue tongue slide against hers while something wet pressed into his tailhole. Fuck, it wasn't even a finger, John was going right for it. Remy gripped the wolf below him as his backside was spread open nice and slow.

"That's a good delivery boy, Remy. I knew you'd love my cock."

The marten whimpered and squirmed desperately against the intense sensations of being penetrated while simultaneously penetrating the wolf below him. It hurt a little, but he didn't care, he let his boss fill him up until both of them were hilted in their respective bitches. The trio held still as everyone adjusted to the situation. Remy could have used some more time to adjust, but almost on cue the married couple both began to move, thrusting at him from above and grinding up into him from below.

The pressure from both sides was insane and the poor marten didn't know what to do except moan. They were using his body like a fucktoy, which is exactly what Misses Smith had ordered and he delivered; in more ways than one. Remy felt his head pushed out of the way and shoved down into the confines between the wolf's neck and the bed as the married couple nuzzled and kissed at each other.

Every time John bucked into him he hit that magic spot, making Remy yip and squirm. He couldn't handle it much more. Every move any one of them made stimulated him in half a dozen ways. John was saying stuff to him, calling him a bitch, but it sounded so distant as the throes of climax started to cloud Remy's mind.

He managed to brace himself up on his hands, getting a little extra leverage in his final thrusts. Misses Smith liked it. She moaned almost as loud as Remy did when he came inside her. He was so spent, so used up, but the moose was still huffing and puffing and pumping into him with abandon. The misses cooed with contentment and rubbed at the marten's shoulders, crooning her neck to the side to watch the show.

"Please," Remy squeaked out. It was a plea that didn't need any explanation.

John obliged him, lowering his massive head and thrusting fast. The moose grunted and pulled all the way out, leaving Remy feeling suddenly empty until he felt the splash of thick cum hitting his open hole and rump fur. The thick head smeared it around some and pressed back in him an inch or two before pulling back out.

The marten pulled out of Misses Smith, getting one last moan from her for the day. He admired his sticky handy work leaking out of her, and he reached a hand back behind him and felt John's on him.

John grumbled and stood up, wiping himself off with a nearby towel. "Don't be late getting back to the warehouse, Remy."

The dreary marten perked up slightly. He'd forgotten all about work. "What are you going to do, write me up for fucking off?"

The moose grinned as he got dressed up in the same button up and slacks he'd been wearing that morning. "Yep."

It took Remy a few minutes to collect himself (and a few more minutes in the bathroom wiping the cum off his ass). He said goodbye to Emily and they shared one last quick smooch before he headed for his--still running--truck. Every step felt funny as his still-slick ass cheeks glided against each other. It didn't really hurt until he took his seat behind the wheel. It would hurt more later he reminded himself. In the good type of reminder of a good time way, though. Every bump on the road registered in his hind quarters, and Remy could only smile. It didn't seem like a real thing that had just happened.

His end of shift routine felt awkward. Every time one of his coworkers would look in his direction or say something Remy could only smile nervously and nod along with what they were saying. They couldn't possibly know, but he felt like they did anyway. John was walking down the line of trucks, inspecting the check sheets nonchalantly.

"Remy! A word?" John waved him over to Truck 17, Remy's truck.

The marten felt his ears flush, but he went as called. As he got close his boss climbed in the truck. It always amazed Remy how John could move around in tight spaces so easily with that gigantic rack. Inside the two had a private place to talk, all while looking to be doing something work related. He looked down at his boss's crotch and thoughts of earlier came to his mind.

"I assume you're not planning on reporting any of this, Remy." John's voice was stern, but the look on his face betrayed nervous misgivings. He hadn't even considered how risky it was for his boss to do something like that. One peep and he'd be fired in an instant.

"I think that's a good assumption. If..."

The moose's eyes widened and he looked around for any possible eavesdroppers. "If what, don't toy with me."

"If," Remy smirked, letting himself have his moment, "there are more packages addressed to Misses Smith with special delivery times."