FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Ah - fuck-"

The cat clutched at the pillow between his paws, claws digging into the fabric as the familiar burst of hot pleasure rippled through him and he spurted his load out against the mattress beneath him. The large wolf whose paws held his hips pounded into him a few more times and then also gave voice to a low, growling moan, pressing the wide bulge of his knot against the rim of the cat's tailhole, his shaft throbbing and pumping his seed into his smaller and younger partner. Then, panting, the wolf slumped forward, buried his nose in the fur of the cat's neck...

"How's..." He swallowed, and licked his lips. "..._that_for a good time?"

The cat beneath him shifted, straining under the weight of a guy at least twice his age combined with a thick cock beneath his tail... he was a student at Hatchworth State University down the road, which certainly had its fair share of attractive guys - but he'd had a lot more luck with actual hookups at the nearby bar. That was where he'd met this wolf, a tall, slightly heavy-set fellow who smelled faintly of tree bark and cigars, and who also had an impressive shaft and sack to show off; the cat had known he'd picked the right guy as soon as his paw had been guided to slip beneath this wolf's waistband and feel the shape of his sheath, the weight of his balls... 'What's a cute college kitten like you doing here on a Thursday night?' the wolf had asked; 'I have an exam tomorrow, and I'm looking for a good time to take my mind off things' was his reply. Then, bright amber-yellow eyes glinted in the half-light of the bar: 'Mind if I help you find that good time?'

Only twice before had he been forced through a hands-free orgasm, and once was with a toy while he was putting on a show for some internet friends. Already he could feel the sweet shivering that let him know he'd have trouble walking straight... his mouth was dry, and he, too, had to swallow. "It'll suffice. I - already forgot what the essay questions are gonna be over..."

"Mmph. God." He heard the wolf's breath hitch as he tugged out - and then felt a warm, slick stickiness roll down the back of his sack. "So I guess you'll be heading back to your dorm to study, then?"

"Once I catch my breath..." The cat rolled onto his back, and then instantly regretted the action when he felt his cum stick to his fur. He wriggled to the side. "...and can be sure that I can walk... y'know, I've seen you around before, but never see you go off with anyone - if you let people know that you have such a - damn nice cock..."

"When you get as old as me, you learn that sometimes it's better to save up for something you really want."

The cat kept his eyes on the wolf's cock, still standing out hard, easily seven and a half inches with the thickness to match, faintly twitching and drooling out the last of his cum... if it wasn't already past eleven PM, he'd definitely scoot forward to the edge of the bed and request that that length be buried in his throat just as it had under his tail. However, it was soon obscured from his view, as the wolf tugged his underwear and then pants back up his legs.

"You? I thought I could make an exception for a cute cat like you."

"Yeah, well... I really do have to get going..." It was too late to take a shower after he got back to the dorm - looked like he'd have to spend tonight with one full load in him and another still stuck to the fur of his chest and muzzle. After meeting at the bar, the wolf had driven him back to his apartment... and on the way there, the cat had gotten impatient, tugged his pants open, then run his nose and then tongue along the steadily growing shaft... and then finally ended up with thick throbbing wolf flesh pressing against the back of his throat, while stopped in a parking spot. Halfway up the stairs, this guy was already ready to go again. "So. Um. Thanks for the lay."

A charcoal-furred paw held out his pants; he took them, and looked up. The wolf grinned down at him. "Damn - and here I was, hoping you'd spend a little more time with a lonely old dog like me. Can I at least get your name?"

"Matt." The cat looked up from buttoning up his fly. If only he'd worn underwear today... nothing was more embarrassing than feeling cum ooze out of his stretched tailhole and against the back of his pants. That had happened one time last semester when he'd gotten _distracted_in the bathroom with one of the otters on the college swim team, when Matt had a presentation to give in his next class... "You?"

"Brent."

"Cool. Hey, uh, Brent... mind... givin' me a ride back to my dorm?

This time, that bright grin - the same one he'd worn when Matt agreed to coming back here with him, the same one Matt had looked up to see when first diving down on the wolf's hard cock - gave way to a softer, gentler smile, as Brent did up the buttons of his shirt. "I was planning to anyway. Can you walk? Or do you need me to carry you?"

"I think I got it..."

Still, though, on the way down the stairs and to the car, Matt found a large paw resting on his hip. It was a nice gesture, but honestly, a little much for his tastes, and he felt almost glad when they finally got to the car so he could pull away... the whole reason he'd went off with Brent tonight was so he could get pounded into a bed and forget about the stress that came with each thought of tomorrow's exam. Having gotten just that, his interest waned considerably, and now he just wanted to get back to his dorm, climb into his bed, maybe paw off again, and then sleep.

In fact, he almost forgot to say goodbye to the old wolf after stopping in front of his dorm - but a low "Wait" stopped him from closing the door. Ears perked in curiosity, Matt bent down and met Brent's eyes, bright in the shadow of night.

"What? D'you want another blowjob? As much as I love giving oral, I really have to get to sleep-"

"No, no. I was just... wondering..." Brent briefly fished around in his pocket, and tugged out his cell phone. "Can I have your number?"

Matt looked down at it, about to ask 'why' when he remembered just how this wolf had tugged his head down into his lap, how he'd turned him around and grinded against him halfway up the stairs, how he'd set his teeth into his neck and growled I want to make you mine... "Yeah, sure..." and he tapped his number into the 'New Contact' menu.

"Mind if I send you a text sometime tomorrow? I'd like to get to know you a little better," Brent asked once he'd finished, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

"Only if it's after noon. After my exam tomorrow, I'll need some time to unwind..."

"Yeah, we'll see."

Bright yellow eyes, a soft smile; the slam of the door closing, the noise of the engine coming back to life, the dimming of the headlights as he backed out and then turned onto the street. Matt stuffed his paws into his pockets, legs still a little shaky from the energetic breeding, and turned towards the door of his dorm.

~ ~ ~

"What was President Johnson's plan for Reconstruction, and how did it differ from the policies of Congress at the time?"

Matt scratched his head, reading over the question over and over. Thirty minutes into a fifty-minute class period, and he had one essay and twelve short-answer questions remaining... his mind had gone blank for most the ones he'd answered so far, forcing him to just jot down something that sounded like it might be the answer.

This morning he'd woken up first to his alarm, and then to a picture message... followed by a second... and then a third. The first was just a picture of the same dark-furred sheath he'd dragged his nose up along last night; the second had both this and an inch of glistening red flesh revealed from the end, dripping thick pre; and then the third was Brent's cock in full resting across the wolf's belly, knot swollen and white cum streaked out across his body. Thanks to those messages, that cock was all he could think about during this exam, and the cat often had to readjust the position in which he sat.

"How and why did presidential reconstruction fail, and what policies took its place? What was the political alignment of most of Congress at this time?"

Brent was not his first hookup - by far, no. Matt had first started exploring his sexuality in high school, with a friend from Biology class that had resulted in him sucking his first cock behind the gym; then he won a bet with a friend by waiting in the locker room naked, gladly giving up his virginity to the hot German shepherd who headed the baseball team (and then the stallion designated pitcher, and then one of the hyenas who he'd seen doing a lot of running on the team)... he had gone in with a whole bunch of worries about getting fucked for the first time, but left the locker room dripping three different guys' cum down the side of his leg feeling more satisfied than he had in a long time.

His expeditions had slowed down near the end of high school and at the start of college, but then he turned twenty-one, learned about the bar down the street... and ended up spending at least two nights a week with his head squeezed between someone's legs or biting down onto a pillow. Every now and then a week would go by when he had too much homework or just couldn't make it out, but without his weekly dose he got impatient and brusque... there were two favorites of his at the bar, two guys that he kept on speed-dial in case he got a sudden want to get railed in his dorm: a fruit bat that he thought he had calculus with two semesters ago, and then a skinny but well-hung coyote who turned out to be the TA for his calculus class the _following_semester. He traded a lot of blowjobs for good grades in that class.

Thing was, though, neither of those guys - or any of his hookups, actually - left him with this odd mix of being both satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time. Last night, being bred by that big older wolf... hell, Matt was almost too exhausted to paw off once he'd climbed into bed, and the sweet glow of his hands-free orgasm actually carried over into the morning. So, he was quite satisfied with the sex, but then... unsatisfied that it had to stop, despite how he didn't like the wolf's closeness. Consistent variety in partners was half the fun, and his two nights a week were hardly ever with the same guy... but here, struggling to rake through his thoughts for what President Johnson's first name was, he had sort-of maybe already decided that he'd call up the wolf for another round tonight.

After all the stress of this exam, Matt felt like he deserved it. I'd like to get to know you better, Brent had said; Matt wouldn't mind getting to know just how the wolf's tongue felt on him.

"Explain the mechanics of the sharecropping system and the main reasons why it was criticized."

He sighed and shook his head. Thinking about hot boys (men, in Brent's case; guy looked like a damn high school teacher, and fucked like he'd already fathered a handful of pups) would get him nowhere. Besides, another glance up at the clock let him know that he'd wasted another five minutes... did he regret spending last night bobbing on a hard cock instead of actually looking over the outline of the exam, which the professor had emailed to everyone in the class?

That was an easy one: no, he didn't. He just simply wished for this exam to be naturally easier.

~ ~ ~

How did your exam go?

Matt had started texting the wolf before he'd made it out of the lecture hall. Try as he might to keep his mind clear of hot guys and hard cocks, he still hadn't been able to focus, and ended up turning it in with the essay question half-finished, with the answer there a bullshit one anyway. Reading the text (which he'd received within minutes of sending a 'hello') brought him a strange warmth rippling beneath the heat of his true interest, one that he couldn't quite explain.

He'd skipped his morning classes in aims of getting some last-minute studying done, but thanks to the picture messages he'd woken up to, spent that hour and a half doing something else. Now he was one his way to get a snack from the vending machine, fully aware that he probably shouldn't be texting in public with his intentions...

"Exactly how I thought it would," he texted back, looking up every now and then to be sure he wouldn't walk into anyone. "Glad it's over though. Now I can focus on more important things."

He could make a proper lunch once he got back to his dorm, but since he had the pocket money, might as well go ahead... the small bag of little bite-sized cookies down near the bottom row of the machine caught his eye, and his phone vibrated in his pocket just as the dollar bill disappeared into the slot.

More important things? Like homework, I hope? ;)

...Shit. He'd forgotten that he had two chapters of calculus homework due tonight, verified by a quick look at the school calendar he kept in his phone. He had been planning to turn the course of this conversation towards setting up another hookup, but... that would have to wait. His four-points-from-failing grade actually took priority over sucking dick for once. Though he had just taken an exhausting exam...

"I was thinking more like... telling you how much I wanna shove my nose between your legs again." After sending that message, he had to stuff a paw into his pocket so his slight tent wouldn't be too obvious.

And that's more important than homework, huh? :P But, if you want to, I'm not going to stop you. Unless you want me to, that is... there's nothing hotter than a younger guy who knows how to follow commands.

Matt did enjoy getting dominated every now and then. That was a good thing about meeting guys at the bar: most of them were older than him, most of them knew what they wanted, and most of them weren't afraid to take what they wanted. He'd been commanded to close his eyes and open his muzzle, been commanded to wait on the edge of the bed with his rump in the air while the guy went to get his friends, been told that he wasn't allowed to cum until he rode the top through two of his own orgasms, been told to keep his nose buried in his partner's pubes and swallow everything that came out of the cock pressed into his throat, or else he'd have it rubbed into his fur... he intentionally went after older guys, too. Really, this one was no different than the others.

"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow if I get to see you, I'll open your pants, slide them down your legs, shovel my nose up against your sheath like you had me do in the car on the way to your place." He opened his bag of cookies and started munching on one, casting his eyes around the hallway in search of somewhere to sit. There should be a small lobby around the next corner with tables, if he remembered right.

But, instead what came into his field of view was the bathroom sign and, after reading the next message he received, he decided it'd be a better idea to duck into there: You know, you're a good little kitty, Matt. Next time we meet up, what do you say to me claiming you as mine?

Matt had sent back _"What do you mean?"_even before making it into the bathroom. One of the stalls was already occupied; he stepped into the other one and made sure to lock the door behind him, then started undoing his pants. The firm warmth of his cock pulsed against the back of his paw.

Well, really, that's up to you... I like you, Matt. I understand if you say no, but I can claim you either by pounding you fast and hard like last night, or telling you to stay still while I blow my load over your naked body again and again... or, if you're into some 'wetter' fun...

Claiming. That word made the cat stop, paw half-closed around his hard cock as he sat back on the toilet. That sounded like a bit of a commitment, and for someone like him? Hell no. It was like flavors of soda: why decide to only drink one when he still had countless more to try? Sure, it would work for a while, but soon enough he'd end up getting bored of it, right? Besides, it could have been a fluke: once or twice before he'd scheduled a second time with someone, only for him to go soft halfway through or lose his want to do anything.

As for this whole bathroom situation, he'd already whipped it out... "What do you mean, 'wetter'? How thorough of a wetting are we talking?"

Oh, he knew what Brent meant by that; he just wanted to see the wolf put it into his own words. Matt was no novice to swallowing more than just cum during a hookup session. In fact, he'd stumbled across it by accident fairly early on into his college years, after winding up in the shower with a German shepherd under his tail. The shepherd unloaded into him, Matt unloaded over the tiled wall, and then the shepherd pulled out, remarked slightly drunkenly that he had to piss... and started emptying his bladder over Matt's back.

Even though the cat had just finished, that still ignited a hot little flame in him, and he soon found himself on his knees with his muzzle positioned so that the dog's yellow stream splashed unevenly across his muzzle, down his cheek, over his lips, and dripped off his chin. His mouth had been kept intentionally shut that time, but that wasn't true for the following morning. Perhaps that was a bad first tasting, though - the morning piss of a hungover dog... again, though, it'd be wrong to base his opinion off of one time. Matt swallowed piss nowhere near as much as he did cum, but God, the thought always made him wriggle in his pants.

I mean I'd push you down to your knees, tell you to close your eyes, and then I'd mark you from head to toe and back. I wanna see my piss dripping off of your sheath and chin and ears - and maybe about halfway through, I'd tell you to open your mouth and catch every drop on your tongue. How does that sound?

The feeling of warm piss on his tongue, splashing against his lips, dripping off of him... that was something that he admittedly pawed to the thought of fairly often. It had even gotten to the point where, after class on days where he got out early, he'd intentionally drink four glasses of water, and then go to start a shower... and then while waiting for the shower to warm up, Matt would get into the bathtub, roll over onto his back, lift his legs way up over his head... it took practice, but he'd gotten to the point where he could almost easily start pissing on himself, and more often than not would catch as much as he could in his mouth and swallow it down.

Matt leaned back against the tank of the toilet, one paw stroking his length slowly while the other held his phone. Pawing off in a school bathroom was something he'd done several times before, but it still brought him the same taboo pleasure as the first time - back then, though, he'd stop nervously when someone else came in and wait for them to leave, but now, he just kept on going if that happened (which it did when he was halfway through typing his response one-handed). Part of him almost hoped that they'd be able to hear his slightly elevated breathing or the soft rustling of his paw against his pants.

"That sounds excellent to me. What next? Would you just leave me there, so that your piss will dry into my fur and anyone who walks by me will be able to smell it? Or will you flip me onto the bed, still wet, and fuck me there?"

Whoever was in the other stall finished up, flushed, opened the door, and left; Matt took the opportunity to adjust his position a little. Just barely speeding up his stroking. The thoughts in his head were almost entirely of last night, save for a few memories of older and similar encounters: one time he was assigned to an otter classmate for a group project, and ended up going over to that otter's house for research and study. Of course, very little studying went on, and instead what happened was more like when he hung out with his high school friends - lots of video games, movies, and gossiping. He learned that this otter had a wide interest in guys as well as girls, so Matt decided to come out to him, too... and then next thing he knew, his paw was rubbing into a hard bulge in the otter's pants while_The Phantom of the Opera_ played on the TV.

The otter's mother was in the next room, so they couldn't be too loud - but of course that otter had a tendency to moan when he came, so Matt ended up stuffing the side of his paw into his mouth when it happened, and brought it back with several little bleeding teeth-marks. The next morning, the otter's mother had work; so Matt spent a considerable amount of time under his desk, also working. He saved the otter three bathroom breaks, thanks to him having a few 2-liter bottles of soda sitting nearby.

Well, I'd keep my sheath right in front of your muzzle, still dripping, and tell you to lean forward and lick it off - and then clean the inside of my sheath with that textured tongue of yours, too. You'd then have a hot, dripping wolfcock throbbing above your head, and your one job would be to make your face smell of my musk and then suck me off.

Matt exited out of his messenger program, opened up his camera, angled the lens at his hard length... snapped a few pictures, and then sent them. While waiting for the response to these, he lifted his shirt a little with his other paw, ran it over his chest and belly, fantasized that he could feel the warmth of fresh piss rolling down his skin and soaking into his fur... by the time his phone vibrated again, a small bead of pre had oozed out of the end of his cock and clung to his thumb.

Or, if you'd prefer... ;) I can lift you up into my big arms, rest you down on the bed, and then kneel between your legs and blow you. Of course I'd make sure to thoroughly douse your belly and crotch before going down on you - add a little familiar spice to your feline musk. Have you ever felt a canid's tongue, kitten?

God - kitten - some part of him loved_being called that, not only by this older wolf but by any of his partners. It had all started with when he first lost his virginity, in the high school locker room; "that's right, kitten," the first one to claim his tail had growled into his ear, "I want to see you moan"... and just at that time, the guy had hilted in him at just the right angle so that Matt ended up squirting out a thin strand of pre against the leg of the bench beneath him. Panting and getting steadily closer, he typed in a quick _"Yes" and hit send.

The next message was quick, and was also the one to send him over the edge: Oh, but you've never felt mine. You mentioned before our romp last night that I'd be the oldest guy you've ever played with - and with age comes experience, you know. You're not the first cat to take this wolf for a ride. Of course, I'm a man of priority: we'd have a little exchange - your cock in my muzzle, your nose against my sheath. Maybe my knot pressed against your lips, or if you're feeling adventurous, that rough tongue of yours under my tail... I'd want to feel you wriggling against me, want to feel each time you twitch and throb and moan. I like to think that I have a skilled tongue... ;)

Attached was a picture of the wolf's hard cock, taken behind an office desk with an open door on the other side of the room - and an official-looking tiger holding a conversation with someone just past that door. Veiny red flesh, glistening in the light with slickness, pre sticking between all of the wolf's fingers... Matt sucked in a breath, bit onto his lower lip, tugged his shirt up a ways - and spurted his load out over the short fur of his belly, the first energetic enough to fly past him and splatter against the lower wall. He was well-accustomed with the scent of his own musk and cum, recognizable within a few short seconds even when almost overtaken by the considerably less pleasant odor that hung around the bathroom; after taking a moment to catch his breath, Matt swiped a length of toilet paper and tried to clean up a little. Sometimes he intentionally left some of his (or someone else's) cum stuck to his fur or clothing - walking around with that, just enough for a discerning nose passing by to barely pick up, also brought him a guilty sort of excitement...

The cat knew what he was going to send in response even before he'd finished doing his pants back up. Turning his phone screen back on brought that picture back into sweet focus, and he took the brief few seconds to save it before going back to the messaging interface.

"Come over before class tomorrow and prove it to me."