FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

As always, if you are not into male on male furry action, you are certainly in the wrong place.

The sun crept across Austin's carpet at a slow, measured pace. Austin and Trey had managed to tangle themselves together during the night. There bodies were as close as they could be without breaking any laws of physics. Where they touched, the fur had matted with the combined forces of heat and pressure.

Austin awoke first. He felt as he did when he was a freshman going to State. The thought of missing your 8:00 class makes the idea of sleeping in all the more tempting. There was something about doing the wrong thing that makes it feel so much better.

The shades were drawn over the window, but the sun would not be stayed by mere fabric. It's rays penetrated the room, an incessant reminder that the real world was, indeed, still out there. Austin extricated himself from the fox. Somehow, Trey's arm had managed to snake around the back of his head. The fox paw had grasped his left ear as though he were hanging on for dear life. Austin took his time to get up carefully, so as not to disturb his fox. He managed to maneuver himself off of the bed. His pads were soft against the hardwood. As he looked back, he saw Trey curl up around his own tail. The fox had his mouth open, tongue stretched across the surface of his pillow. It was gross, and cute. Mostly cute, Austin thought, he let a smile cross his face. The shepperd did his best to make his way silently down the hall and into the kitchen. He nearly made it all the way before a yawn broke past his defenses and rushed out his maw. "If there is a God, he certainly isn't awake at this hour," Austin mumbled to himself as he fumbled about on the counter. The simple process of making coffee was compounded by the fact that his brain was at least a half hour away from working at all. Needless to say, Austin was not a morning dog.

The coffee pot was hissing and dripping and generally being far too slow. Austin decided to walk out into the living room and start his morning exercises.

In the other room the sun wasn't done wrecking dreams. The bright light had finally reached the fox and he awoke, dazed and half blinded. He sat up and pulled the covers around him further, only then realizing that Austin was missing. Like usual, his mouth tasted like pillow. "Austin's pillows taste a bit better than the ones I'm used to," Trey mused. He slowly turned his head, hesitant to inspect the damage. "O God. I hope he didn't see that."

"Trey, honey, you really shouldn't think out loud." Austin had come back into the room panting from exertion and carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. You wouldn't think it possible, but Trey turned even more red than usual and pulled his tail up over his face.

Trey felt the bed shift with the weight of the German Shepperd. Trey stayed motionless, sitting Indian style. Clearly he was still embarrassed about the spot on the pillow.

"Ah come on, don't be like that. Look, I made you some coffee," Austin waved the mug in the general vicinity of Trey's face, since he was still hiding it.

"Normally I wouldn't care about stuff like that, but this time I'm with someone I really like." Austin had heard the words, but he still couldn't see Trey through the bushy red and black tail. Austin set down the coffee on the bed stand and extended a paw to slowly move the tail down from Trey's face.

"About that, I need to talk to you. Here, take your coffee so we can talk properly." Austin handed over the cup.

Trey responded, "I can guess what you wanted to say. I'm a whore and your a cop. We can never be together." Before Trey had finished his sentence, his tail was back up over his face and a small sob had managed to make it all the way through the bushy tail and into Austin's ears. The shepperd moved closer and wrapped an arm around the fox. With his other arm, he set down the coffee. He was beginning to think it would go wasted anyway.

"That's really not it at all. I know that we, um, professionally seem incompatible. I think we can work through that. I just wanted to talk about more short term stuff. Like your pal Clinton." Austin was tense and clearly uncomfortable, but he plowed ahead anyway; "That pit bull is nothing but bad news. If we are going to be together, you have to promise not to see him anymore." Having finished his speech, Austin waited, not so patiently, for Trey's reaction. The tail came down, slightly, and Trey looked him in the eye. "I know I need to change, but I can't do it on my own. I promise not to see him anymore," he muttered. Austin's reply suited him; it was simple, classic, and full of heart-- "I love you." The tail came down further. At this point Austin suspected that Trey's comfort level could be scientifically measured by how much of his anterior and thorax was concealed behind the tail. While the shepperd was lost in his own mind, concocting a contraption that would be able to gauge and record the status of a fox tail, he suddently discovered that a fox tail was wrapped around his back. The fox attached to the tail had jumped into his arms and was currently smiling. "I love you too big boy, but I gotta tell you, when you put your arm around me...you stink sweetie."

The shower head started to steam as the two stepped into the tub. Austin was doing his best to tickle Trey, and the fox was doing his best to pretend it didn't bother him. "You really are the fox of my dreams, you know," Austin looked down at the smaller male. He pulled him close as the water fell down over them both. For a moment, they just held onto one another sharing the moment. They were rudely interrupted after only a few seconds by Austin's hardening erection.

"Oh, sweetie, what exactly do I do in those dreams," Trey asked as he felt the large doggie cock poking him in the ribs. It was Austin's turn to be embarrassed. "Well, uh, you see I kinda gotta get to work pretty soon. Maybe we sh..." He was cut short by a fox paw reaching down to cup his balls. Trey leaned in and stood on his tippie toes, planting a kiss on the shepperd's maw. "Austin, hun, stop talking."

Just the other day he had tried to think about what this would be like. His mind did it's best to exaggerate certain details, and yet the real thing was better. There he was, his dream fox, kissing his stomach and fondling his balls, slowly working his way down. When the fox got to his knees he looked up at Austin as he took the shepperd cock into his mouth. Austin was overwhelmed with feelings. He leaned back against the shower door and looked down as his black dick disappeared into Trey's mouth. As he was watching, he felt big and strong. He felt powerful. He mused that this must be how a rock star feels when he walks out on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans. And yet, he only had one fan. "Jesus, It really must be love," Austin barely had time to get this thought through before Trey started bobbing furiously on his hard cock. The fox used both his paws to stroke the shaft while he sucked. Austin moved his paw down to grab the fox by the scruff of the neck. Trey moaned around the big dick, he loved to be dominated. He loved the way Austin was looking at him, eyes focused with sexual need. Trey's own cock was fully hard, but it went ignored as Trey used both his paws to pleasure his german shepperd lover. With one paw, he reached around Austin's heavy ballsac, fondling the precious contents. Austin moaned and used his paw to force trey deeper and faster, face fucking him. Austin, seeing how much his lover liked the rough treatment, decided to up the ante.

"You just love a big cock in your mouth, don't you," Austin growled. Trey looked up at Austin, his eyes almost pleading with the bigger dog. There was nothing more he wanted at that moment than to have Austin fill his mouth with hot cum. Trey used both of his paws to wrap around the base of Austin's knot. For Austin, the pressure was unbelievable. His orgasm was coming fast, and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Austin used his strong paws to hold Trey all the way down his shaft. Trey could feel spurt after spurt of hot dog cum spraying against the back of his throat.

"Ahhh, God. That was amazing." Austin was holding his slowly deflating cock in one paw and trying desperately to clean himself with the other. "Look, I'm really sorry but I have to get to work. I don't want to be late for my first shift without McKinley breathing down my neck."

Austin turned the water off and they both stepped out of the shower. Trey did sort of a pirouette, flinging water all over the bathroom. While Austin was busy trying to get the new wave of water out of his eyes Trey said: "I bet you want to punish me for that, but it'll have to wait until later. Really tho, it's OK sweetie." "You're the best," Austin managed to get out while he sprinted out the door and into the bedroom. Before Trey had even had time to dry his tail properly, Austin was out the door.

As the sound of Austin's pickup faded, blending in with the natural sounds of the street, Trey sat at the dinner table, looking dejected. He sat for a while, perplexed. The fox was uncertain as to what was making him feel so depressed all of a sudden. "After all," Trey thought to himself, "Austin is a really sweet guy." He cares for me, I know it's true." "And yet, when we have sex, its not all that different from back when..." Trey stopped himself as a shudder rand down his spine, all the way into his all too acute tail. "Other guys have treated me the same way, talking dirty and using me for their own pleasure." "I really do like that sort of thing tho..." Trey remembered the other night when Austin had taken his tailhole in the bedroom. His sheath swelled. "There's no denying it, I'm a little bitch in bed." "I'll just have to remember that Austin isn't like the others." He loves me.

Trey looked down at the table, a single tear fell, splashing into the dark wooden surface. He sat thinking about how much his life had changed. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the LCD readout, "The more things change..."

Meanwhile, at the police station, Austin had been called in to McKinley's office right before his shift started. The room was roughly the size of the jail cells one floor below. An antique wooden desk commanded most of the space, it's top covered with file folders and pictures of Mrs. McKinley. Austin took a seat across from the doberman, a little uneasy. He wasn't sure why exactly he was being called in so soon. Before he could get himself too worried, the older dog started talking: "Look, the gruff old doberman said, "You've done your homework, and its clear at this point you can stay cool under pressure." "That cool is your life jacket, so don't loose it." McKinley was apparently trying to impress the importance of this moment on Austin, because he kept pointing his finger at him. The old dog was gesticulating as if he were the President addressing the White House Press Corps. Austin was amused, but he continued to listen intently. "You can't fight your way out of every situation, so you have to think on your feet." "Remember what we've talked about and, when in doubt, recall your training." "Being a cop can be as hard or as easy as you want it to be. "I know you are a pretty good fighter, but remember that your mind can save you from having to fight." Ah, shit, I guess my point is just to think out there, and good luck." McKinley's speech being apparently over, Austin reached across the stained desktop and shook the veteran's paw. Without another word, he got up and proceeded to the carpool. The tips of his fingers were tingling. He had been on patrol plenty of times, just not by himself. I know it sounds corny, but it really felt like a big step.

A few short minutes later Austin was sitting down in his very own patrol car. Just like they say in the Marines: It was just like all the others, but this one was his. It was a brand new Dodge Charger Police Package. The agency didn't skimp on it's new patrol cars. Austin sat for a moment admiring the new car smell, the shiny new laptop, the lexan divider that would keep him safely distanced from the undesirables that were sure to be hitching a ride in the back seat. Austin turned to key. A smile crossed his muzzle as all eight cylinders began playing a symphony under the hood. "Oh yeah." Austin put on his sunglasses and slipped out of the garage.

For Austin, the first few hours on the street were relatively uneventful. One domestic, a drug sales take-down assist, and a transport request. Austin was feeling more sure of himself. When he was with the other officers at the drug hit, he no longer felt like a newbie. They treated him like a brother. Things were looking up, but it was definitely time for lunch.

"Metro, Adam 19, show me code 7 please." Austin used his car radio to call in his lunch time. He hear back almost immediately. "Adam 19, code 7." The female dispatcher was nothing if not succinct.

"Hmm. Its kind of a taco sort of day, don't you think?" Austin was speaking to his laptop. Just as it occurred to him how strange it was to speak to a computer like that, his favorite taco stand had come up on the right and he had to turn. Marissa, a cute little chiwawa mix, served his four chicken tacos just like always. "On your own today, are you?" "Yeah, I got tired of McKinley slowing me down, so I thought I'd fly solo today," Austin joked back. McKinley had turned him onto this place when he was still in training. He said he liked it because the tacos were great and you could sit outside on the park benches. As Austin sat down, he had to agree. He had just gotten a bit of his first taco when his radio crackled. "Metro, I've got one running east on Lincoln from 32'nd. Pit Bull, looks like he's gunna bail..." "Adam 11," the dispatcher, was calm and smooth as always, even if the officer was clearly excited, "felony suspect foot pursuit east Lincoln from 32'nd, response code 2." The call was outside of Austin's officially designated patrol district, so he continued making short work of his tacos. His radio was going non-stop, so he turned it down. He was in the middle of the fourth taco when he heard something interesting. "Metro, Bravo 6, we need EMS to my location. Single male victim. Fox. About 20 years of age. License reads tango, romeo, echo, yankee..."

Time seemed to slow down as Austin deciphered meaning from message. His pupils became dilated and his breathing rapid. He vaulted over the picnic tale, tore open the car door and grabbed the dash radio. "Metro, Adam 19, locate Adam 11 for me please." His laptop beeped, signaling an update. The map of the city showed two pins, ten blocks apart. Austin turned the key, the engine had barely started when he shifted to drive and let the weight of his foot push the accelerator to the floor. The car slid out of its spot and into light traffic. Austin could smell the smoke from the tires as he slid the car sideways onto 32'nd street. Nine blocks. The car was a physical representation of the fury he felt. The 5.7 liter HEMI roared like an urban tiger as he literally flew through the intersection. Austin was well above the regulated sleep limit, even for code 2 calls. He was beyond caring, the speedometer read 95. Four blocks. Austin could see the lights ahead, fire and EMS were already on scene. He was panicking, but the radio brought him back. It was Adam 11, they had lost the suspect.

When Trey awoke, he immediately wished that he hadn't. Pain shot down his legs, up his arms, and through his core. His head felt like a balloon ready to burst. He tried to take a breath, but the subsequent pain in his chest snatched it from him. He looked around the room. There was a doctor in one corner, looking at some paperwork. He panned his head around, ignoring the pain. There he was, in the opposite corner. Before he was in the hospital, before he became unconscious, before Clinton had finished with his first punch, he knew that Austin would be there. Austin's fur was disheveled, his uniform top was not tucked in, but he was there.

"You've had a pretty rough day." Austin shared a split second, sideways glance at the doctor, who packed his stuff and left without a word. "The doctor says you'll live, so that's good." Austin managed a weak smile. Trey smiled, not because of the joke, but because of how uncomfortable Austin looked. Trey was sure his big bad sheppard just wanted to cry and tell him how much he loves him. Austin, of course, has seen too many John Wayne movies, so he chokes down his tears, takes a step closer, and places his paw gently over Trey's. "Was it Clinton?" Trey looked at him carefully. His was scared of Clinton, sure, but he was even more scared of that glint that Austin had in his eye. "Austin, I know what your thinking. Don't," Trey pleaded. He tried to squeeze Austin's paw, but his arm hurt too much.

The doctor who had left earlier poked his head through the door again. "Officer, it's time."

Austin looked at him and nodded. "Trey, they won't let me stay with you. They said I would just get in the way." "I'm really sorry." Austin couldn't hold back anymore as he leaned over his fox. The love of his life lay before him, bleeding, bruised, and broken. Tears dropped steadily onto the bedsheets as Austin leaned over and whispered in Trey's ear. "I love you."

Austin sat in his patrol car looking up at the large, brightly lit cross at the top of the hospital. There was no doubt about it, he was a privileged fur. He got to go to college, got to choose his classes and decide his direction in life. He had the luxury of even studying flippant topics like eastern religion. As Austin sat there, lost in thought, he knew that what he wanted to do was not Zen. He tried a trick they taught in police academy. He did his best to separate himself from his emotions and judge the situation dispassionately. "OK, what are the facts," he mused. Clinton is clearly insane. His actions today suggest that he was trying to kill Trey. Likely, he decided that if he cannot have Trey anymore then nobody could. With thoughts like that, it is unlikely that Clinton will leave Trey alone. He thought of another class he had taken in college. European Literature.

"If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."

Austin started the car and drove back to his apartment. He ascended the stairs, his mind thinking hours into the future. "I know that Clinton is a pompous ass. He probably likes the clubs. The first time I saw him, there was a club across the street." I'll start there first.

Austin made his way to the bedroom. He put on a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. He went to the closet and moved back his dress clothes to reveal his gun safe. He took out a rifle and lay it on the bed. The Remington 700 LTR certainly looked serious. The long, fat barrel was fluted, to reduce weight and help dissipate heat. Thick steel rings held the Kahles 4-12 power scope firmly in place. Austin's dad had given him the rifle as a birthday present after he had learned the Austin aspired to be a SWAT sniper. The two had spent many a day on the rifle range, carefully documenting the deadly capability of the rifle. Austin went back to the safe and recovered his collection of .308 rounds. The boat tail hollow-points were the most accurate, but the remaining bullet fragments could be used to identify which gun fired the round. There was only one real option, the frangible ammunition Austin used when he went to the indoor range. Frangible rounds are designed to break up on impact, so they don't hurt the downrange equipment at the range. They could be used for other things, though. Austin took a deep breath, packed his equipment into his black range bag, and headed for the door.

When he got to the club, he circled around the block, looking for a suitable location. There was an apartment building across the street and down the block from the club entrance. Austin parked his truck in the alleyway behind the apartment building and started climbing the fire escape. Austin had to jump from the top of the fire escape onto the roof. There was a large air conditioning unit at the center of the roof. The unit was block shaped, and stood about four feet above the roof. The gravel crunched under his footpads as he slowly made his way across the roof and onto the A/C unit. From there, he could see down into the street. There was no line at the front of the club. He checked his watch. 2 AM. Last call.

People began to walk and or stumble out of the club. Among them was a pit bull wearing a white suit. "You smug son of a bitch," Austin muttered. "Nearly beat my boyfriend to death in the morning, and go partying at the club at night." Clinton was busy giving some scared looking young dingo a stern talking to. Austin took the opportunity to load a round into the chamber. He focused the crosshairs and calculated the distance and declination silently in his head. Austin held his breath, pressed his finger to the trigger, and squeezed.

They say that a bullet never lies. This one sure didn't. The 168 grain projectile made a boom that surely rattled the nerves of everyone within earshot. Clinton never heard it.