FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_ This one's for Cheetahpaws..._

Harlan had never thought that wearing shorts and muscle shirt would make him feel overdressed, but this particular beach sported a crowd of males (and some few females) that were as close to "fur only" as he'd ever experienced before. The effect was a little confusing, particularly with some of the males. He couldn't figure out how so much meat could be packed into such small containers. Those little bits of cloth - what were they called, thongs? - must be like the TARDIS, bigger inside than out. As a doctoral physics candidate at the university, he'd probably have had to work up a great deal of theoretical quantum mechanics to figure out how to make that work. At the moment, however, his brief summer break beckoned, and all he really had to figure out was where to purchase one of the damned things so that he could strut his stuff.

Strut his stuff. He chuckled at the phrase, having no idea where it came from. That sort of confidence was not his long suit. He'd always thought of himself as a geek first, your basic physics nerd right out of the old film Real Genius, and just about as clueless. Most often seen in an all-concealing white lab coat, Harlan could never quite figure out why anyone would be interested in him. He could open his muzzle about his work and bring the conversation of a dozen people to a grinding halt. Truth was, he doubted that even a thong would improve his luck in finding someone who'd be interested in him. He'd been told that he was physically attractive, although he wasn't sure he'd be so self-confident. "Fit" was a good word, "healthy" perhaps. Attractive? In quantum physics, that had a specific meaning, but in what was called "real life," it could mean anything. The English language was unspecific enough; American was even worse. In terms of the summer beach, it would seem that his body would have to do his talking for him. He hoped that he knew the language.

Of the several small shops along the beachfront, only one seemed to sell various sorts of seaside accoutrements, including clothing... or what passed for clothing in the circumstance. The young tiger made up his mind to investigate. After all, he'd been sent here to get out of the lab for a while, to quit thinking so much like a scientist and more like... well, whatever. His brain was wired that way, and he doubted that "a few weeks off" was going to change that. Still, what good was a vacation, not to mention a bonus check from your boss, if you didn't splurge a little? He didn't need an advanced degree in economics to figure that one out.

Harlan entered the small, cramped shop, tail twitching nervously, taking some time to let his eyes adjust to the near-darkness. His nose told him that someone enjoyed incense, something relatively earthy in scent, perhaps to counteract the sea-salt and sandy aromas of the beach. He sensed, more than saw, that the place was more or less empty, the vast majority of the locals enjoying their beach time outdoors instead of shopping. Apparently, the tiger realized, one was supposed to arrive here with everything taken care of already. Still, the shop existed to help those who hadn't been properly outfitted. Various types, sizes, styles, colors, textures, and concepts of clothing, for male or female, seemed to be more or less scattered throughout the place, with little thought to order or convenience. Perhaps the owner was on vacation as well.

"Hi!" rang out a deep baritone enthusiastically. "Help you find something?"

The voice turned out to belong to a timber wolf perhaps a few years older than Harlan, who also was dressed in shorts and a tank top, and who appeared to be as sculpted and toned as the surprising majority of the males at this end of the beach. He supposed that it was only natural for the canine to fit in better with the locals, but the effect was still striking, and the tiger lost his breath for a moment, feeling yet one more level of being intimidated. Why did everyone have to look so damned good? The word "tasty" tried to float upward in his mind until he thrust it away forcefully. It wasn't a sensible term, in the circumstances, and he had no idea where it had come from.

"Hi," the feline attempted wittily. Clearing his throat, he finally managed, "Just looking, mostly. Seems I'm sorta overdressed for the beach."

The wolf chuckled a little conspiratorially. "As the old saying has it, if ya got it, flaunt it. You could just doff the tank, if you wanted, or were you looking to get a little more daring? You've certainly got the build for it."

The tiger found himself a little overwhelmed by the compliment, wondering if he was blushing under his fur enough for the wolf to see it in the dim light. Whether or not he did, the wolf did take a half-step back and put up his forepaws. "Sorry, I shouldn't be let out in polite society. Didn't mean to get too personal. Let's start over. My name's Shad."

Taking the proffered forepaw, the feline managed, "Harlan."

"Good to meet you, Harlan, and welcome to I'm All Dune In." The wolf smirked a little. "Yeah, I can't say that the owner gets bonus points for wit. Story goes, this is his retirement investment, so I do the best I can for him. It's sort of where I ended up after university."

"You were at uni?" The tiger exclaimed a little too loudly, realizing about a half-second too late that he probably sounded condescending as hell. "What did you study?"

"World economics." Shad grinned broadly. "And as you can see, this is about as much of the world as I've been able to conquer, and the economics aren't all that challenging. How about you?"

"Physics. Quantum and string theory, with an emphasis on strange... particles..." He drifted off, sighing a little. "Sorry. Not exactly party conversation."

"Neither is Keynesian economics and Nash's theory of equilibrium points in n-person games. Trust me - I know from experience. I think I managed to bring down an entire bar." The wolf chuckled easily. "I'm glad that you stopped in, though, Harlan. Us nerds gotta let it out once in a while." He clapped his forepaws, rubbed the palms together, as if ready to start a new project. "Now, let's see what we can find for you. What sort of thing were you looking for?"

"I'm not sure, really. I mean..." The tiger waved a paw around the store, encompassing everything and hoping that he could buy some time to keep from sounding like a complete idiot. "A lot to choose from."

"Well, let me try it this way. You said that you felt overdressed. Would you like to try something a little more revealing?"

Harlan knew that the wolf was trying his best to make his conversation sound casual, but he still wasn't really used to the idea. "Well... yeah, maybe. I'm trying to guess based on what I've seen on the beach."

"On this beach, you've probably seen a lot." Shad's toothy grin conveyed a lot of messages, some of which Harlan wasn't the least bit sure that he could translate.

"I'm having to guess that's a good thing." The tiger wavered from one hindpaw to the other, all at once uncertain about anything. "I, uh... I don't get out much."

"Okay," the wolf seemed satisfied with this, or at least didn't press further. "Let's have a look at some Speedo-style shorts and thongs, see if we can find something you'd like to try. We'll start here."

With that, Shad turned and moved a little further toward the back of the store. Harlan watched him, unable to keep his eyes off of the wolf's tight musculature and the denim-like shorts that covered all and concealed nothing. It made the tiger more than a little nervous, as he wasn't sure whether he should be attracted or not. He found himself reviewing the rules about what opposites attract and what like elements attract, but that was physics; in biology, or sociology, or psychology, there was no set rule or limitation. He'd heard the expression that someone who prefers one sex to another might be said to "bat for the same team" or "bat for the other team." Truth was, just like back in grade school, he was still standing alone on the sidelines at choose-up, and both sides were arguing about which side would be forced to take him. Sometimes, he wondered if he really was equipped for either team, physically or emotionally. Even so, the timber wolf's tail did seem quite hypnotizing, swaying as it was in the limited confines of the closely-packed aisles of the shop. For some reason, Harlan found himself wondering if a wolf's tail wags in a shop, will it rain on a butterfly in New Delhi...

Shad stopped at a rack of (presumably) clothing and presented it to the tiger with a flourish. "We can start with these. There's a changing room just over there," he nodded to a curtained alcove at the very rear of the store, "and it's got a mirror, so you don't have to go parading around. No one else is here, just shout if you need anything. Got a favorite color?"

"I'm sorta partial to blue." For all Harlan knew, he was lying through his fangs; the idea of a "favorite color" sometimes actually confused him, since it was all frequency vibrations anyway. Mostly, he was just looking for an excuse to get away quickly, so he chose the color because of the material closest to paw on the rack. He pulled it off, smiled nervously and said, "I'll try these." It was all he could do not to run for the changing room.

He pulled the curtains closed quickly and gave himself time to exhale. He then proceeded to get his shorts off before they actually began to hurt. Whether he liked it or not, his cock was in the process of waking up, shrugging off the blanket of its foreskin, and (for all he knew) yawn in greeting of a brand new day. He wasn't sure what it is that was making his body react sexually; he'd never had enough chance to read about, much less experiment with, the various factors involved in arousal. He thought it was supposed to be more or less automatic, as a physiological response to some stimuli or other (visual, olfactory, tactile), but he had no idea what might be causing it now. Maybe just ordinary excitement of trying something new, maybe embarrassment. Whatever. He was already half-naked; simple logic dictated that he pursue the experiment to its conclusion. He doffed his muscle shirt, hanging it and his shorts on the hooks on the wall, and set about trying on the blue thong.

There seemed to be so little of it that he had to turn it about a few times to figure out that, yes, that was the front part. He raised a knee straight up to his chest, pointed a hindpaw through one hole, repeated the process for the other, then started tugging. The fabric was much more elastic than he'd thought, and smooth enough that it didn't catch on his fur, but even so, he had some trouble pulling it up past his thick, hard thighs. Even worse was trying understand how it would be legal to have so much of his fuzzy rump hanging out in public display. He'd heard the term "butt floss" before, but until he had tried to put on this damned thing, he'd never really understood it. Now it seemed rather painfully obvious, in the fullest extents of both words.

Physiology clashed with physics (not to mention common sense) as he came to realize that the thong wasn't about to stretch anywhere near enough to accommodate his aroused length. Worse, it exacerbated the problem by cupping his large furry balls quite closely and, he was surprised to admit to himself, enjoyably. The smooth, clinging elasticity of the fabric seemed to squeeze his balls in such a way that it was like being gently teased by someone who was, well, trying to get a particular response. That was Newtonian physics, after all - things at rest (his balls) tended to stay at rest unless acted upon by an unbalanced force (which was as good a way as any of describing how that thong was squeezing him). The result seemed be a sort of delta-vee of his cock, which was now hard as Chinese algebra and pointing almost to the ceiling. He found himself pressing down on it with one forepaw, focused so much on it that he didn't hear the words that were slowly getting louder as the voice approached his curtain.

"Hey, I'm not sure that one will fit you; I've got a bigger size here, it's not blue, but it's..."

The curtains parted and the words stopped as the wolf stared wide-eyed at what could only be described as partially-packaged tiger on full display. Harlan felt himself going into turbo-blush, only able to stand open-mawed with humiliation as the wolf simply continued to stare for what felt like a dozen minutes but was probably not even that many seconds. It would have made an interesting study in Einsteinian time dilation effects, but the wolf seemed to have other ideas.

"Never thought of wearing it that way," he said softly, finally looking up into the tiger's eyes. "You'll be very popular out there."

"It's... I... I'm not... I wouldn't..."

"Harlan..." The tiger's name on the wolf's breath was so tender as to be almost a caress.

"Yes... no... I mean, I'm... are you... what do you... what should I..."

Further speech was rendered unnecessary or impossible (depending on which side of the equation you were on) when Shad leaned in and kissed the tiger softly on his lips. Harlan found himself completely unable to think as the wolf pressed with gentle pressure yet without insistence. It was as if the sole purpose was to make the tiger stop trying to talk, or even to think. After a very long moment, the wolf pulled back and smiled softly.

"I hope that was okay." He glanced down, as did the tiger. "Someone seems to like it."

Harlan was certain that he was blushing sufficient to light the entire store with an incandescent sheen of bright red. He wanted to say something, but it was difficult to think, much less form words, as the wolf tenderly placed his forepaw underneath the tiger's impassioned length. His breath caught, and he felt himself being subjected to Newton's second law - the situation was definitely being accelerated, and although there was significant mass involved, there seemed to be almost no force needed to set it in motion.

"You seem to be having a little trouble with that thong," the wolf's voice rumbled, seeming almost to purr. "I'd be glad to help you. I'm told I'm very good at customer service. Thongs need a special touch."

"Could be," Harlan managed through his quickening breath. "I've never... tried one before..."

Shad's free forepaw cupped the back of the tiger's head gently. "Never?"

Slowly, the feline shook his head. The wolf paused for a very long time, not moving, looking gently into the tiger's eyes. The well-built canine was near enough for the tiger to see every detail, every long silver-gray hair in his thick ruff, the smooth short silvery fur of his muzzle, the dark patches of the mask around his eyes -- his deep blue eyes that seemed to be searching for something, maybe even finding something, maybe even liking what he finds...

"Why not?" asked the wolf, his voice almost a whisper.

Harlan swallowed. "Wrapped up in my college work, I guess. Never had time. Or a chance to... find out what a thong is like." He tried to smile, wasn't sure he actually did so. "Maybe you could call it uncertainty theory."

Still keeping his gaze locked, Shad nodded slowly. "It was like that for me. Symmetric and asymmetric games, to describe economics. I rarely got to... find a thong, much less try one on." A small smile played about his muzzle, his lower forepaw slowly massaging the tiger's hard length. "May I offer a lesson in simple supply and demand? From one nerd to another?"

Heart racing, a tiny whine escaping his lips, the tiger found himself nodding. He watched, unable to blink, unable to react, as the wolf held his eyes and knelt slowly before him. Still gazing up at the tiger, he moved his muzzle close to the feline's hard cock, opening his maw and extending his tongue. The first touch of tongue to tip caused the tiger to inhale sharply, his eyes widening, continuing to stare into the wolf's eyes as if to tether himself somehow to something known, as the unknown came forth to claim him.

Slowly, deliberately, the wolf moved his muzzle forward, enveloping and embracing the tiger's length deep into his maw. The forepaw moved down to cup the tiger's large, full balls, or perhaps just to check on how the thong was fitting, confirming that a larger size would be needed. Between the paw and the elastic, Harlan's balls were now firmly in a position probability density at infinity and tending toward zero... a quantum bound state. But even as his brain tried to start working on the wavefunction dynamics, the sensations coursing through his body threw his thoughts into a scattering state that refused to conform to any known wavefunction. In a form of biological revolution, his primitive hindbrain leapt up and throttled his overeducated analysis. He was now in a territory so unknown, the tiger's name might as well have been Schrodinger.

The canine's other forepaw had slid behind to grip the tiger's hard-muscled rump, causing the feline's tail to jump and twitch even more than before. Harlan found himself letting his eyes close as one of his own forepaws found the wall of the changing room (steady state) and the other moved almost of its own accord down to the wolf's head to pet him softly as he paused, holding the tiger's cock in his maw, rolling his long, thick, nimble tongue around and over the swollen length. Sensory input swiftly overwhelmed all other thoughts, his nostrils flaring (was that scent his own arousal or the wolf's, or both...), his body beginning to tremble at the intensely pleasure-filled touch of Shad's muzzle, making real an idea he'd only imagined before. After only a few moments, the eager canine began to bob his head on Harlan's cock, slowly at first and then with greater rhythm and determination, as the tiger's paw rode atop Shad's head. The tiger's hips gradually fell into synch with the wolf's movements, finally bringing the relative simplicity of Newton's Third Law into the single most gratifying application Harlan had ever experienced. Rockets blasting off had nothing on this, although certain aspects of the situation were very similar. The tiger climaxed swiftly and, with choked and startled cries, emptied his elastic-encased balls into the warm and welcoming depths of the wolf's maw, to the accompaniment of very satisfied murring and slurping noises from the canine himself.

Shivering from the sheer overload of the sensory experience, panting and trying to get his breath back, Harlan felt his twitching cock being slowly released from the canine's muzzle, and then, his eyes still closed, he felt the warmth of the wolf standing and wrapping around him almost protectively, petting his head and back softly, his chin resting on the feline's shoulder. "Thank you," the wolf whispered in his ear.

"For what?"

"For supplying my demand."

Harlan's laugh caromed off the walls of the small dressing room, tinged with something that might be hysteria, or relief, or simple pleasure. He reached up to hug the wolf close to him, feeling something like joy and sadness all wrapped up and making everything confusing in his head and his heart. "Thank you," he said.

Pulling back to look in the tiger's eyes, the wolf smiled softly. "You're not kidding. This really is your first, isn't it?"

The tiger nodded, blushing a little.

"I guess it's a little late to ask, but... I hope you liked it."

"If I'd known it was this good, I'd have tried it a long time ago."

"Why didn't you?"

"No one..." Harlan paused, his face screwed up with confusion. "No one ever wanted to. They said I was too nerdy."

The wolf touched the side of his muzzle against the tiger's, tenderly. "They don't realize that the biggest sex organ we have is our brains." He chuckled softly. "Although you've got plenty of ammunition to make a counter-argument."

The younger male snorted a little, embarrassed yet pleased. "Is this what sex is like, between nerds?"

"I'd say there's a good chance of finding asymmetric equilibria, with some further experimentations." Shad grinned. "I hope you find intelligence sexy."

"Let's say it this way," Harlan smiled, touching the wolf's cheek softly. "Your quarky behavior is strange but charming."

"Is it sad that I actually got that joke?"

"Not to me." The tiger leaned in for another kiss, a deeper one than before, deeper than he'd ever known before. Damn the butterflies, he concluded, in New Delhi or his stomach... not everything need be subject to the principle of uncertainty.