FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Rough Housing

Night shifts were a killer!

She'd just snort at the chill air, stripping away the smells of plastics, mildew and chlorophyll and allowing her broad snout to revel in the freedom that was the end of a yet another boring old day at work.

And sure, whilst Casey was used to it, it didn't mean that the young hippo didn't often wonder about perhaps winning the lottery or some such thing... all that endless daydreaming about a place closer to the clouds. The spires of Prime City, the smartest and most affluent residences in one of the largest metropolitan areas of Nexus, were always just out of reach. They seemed to grow organically, teasing her, taunting her... making her feel that they were eternally out of reach. These aren't for you.

Work, sleep, work, sleep... die. That was it!

Sigh!

Casey was an only calf who'd always lived in a city environment. A relatively independent twenty-five-year old who stood all of barely five-feet-two, she'd always been the free-thinker in her family, leaning towards having friends at school who weren't her creed. She didn't see her parents all that much anymore either. Work got in the way and, if she was gonna' be truthful with herself, being around older folks meant less time in the ever-high energy of the city. The whole place was designed to blow your mind. Everyone was encouraged to express their love physically. Such a freakin' awesome system, although... although... well, for Casey even the 'availability' wasn't enough to either satisfy her or indeed overcome her one big hurdle.

Shyness.

She was a hefty gal too, a bulky and stocky hippo with that classic rounded façade, tiny, flea-flickin' ears and devastating teeth. Her eyes were keenly blue to match her favourite hobby - swimming - and her tail was a rope of grey with a very carefully groomed tip of black, silver and auburn fur.

Each dawn she'd plod home from her job at the local hydroponics facility, tired and feeling every bit of her twenty-five years. Wow that was yet another grim thing to think about, right?!

Now, she wasn't one to complain all that much, but ever since she'd graduated and joined the big wide world of reality (and the joys of full-time work), stuff just seemed so much harder and... well... less fun, to be frank! Hours and hours of administrative work in a freakin' glasshouse didn't help. Felt like she was constantly wringing out her smart white cotton polo shirt, a stretching fabric that just about reached around her wide frame.

This morning her velvety grey forepaws caught the early rays as she walked home, a paper bag of groceries cradled in her left forepaw and cushioned against her bulky frame. Being at the local supermarket was no escape from her day-job cos' she was surrounded by suggestively shaped vegetables all day long. Brushing her chunky, cloven hooves across the lush watercress was an easy distraction, but even then it felt as though she should be caressing, gripping the gorgeously tough back of some hunky reptilian lover as he ploughed her. The ever-presence of that uber-clinical fertilizer aroma was always something that got her hot under the collar too. Everything about work was both boring and a turn-on all at once.

Casey'd always used the employee pool to chill, but it never helped either. To be honest, she was entering her oestrus and the smells and the visions were becoming too much. She shoulda' probably have told her boss a long time ago, but that woulda' meant she'd be transferred away from those endless innuendos. It was as funny as it was aiding the young hippo in finishin' herself off when she got a second to herself back home!

Hanging lettuces just reminded her of the sexy green devils that waltzed around her apartment building like they owned the fucking place.

The constant stream of water - the sound and the deeply clinical smell - was a fantasy of the fluids that those cum-riddled fucks could pump her full of. And the least said about the turnip-growing facility, the better, am I right?!

No one needed clues or cues on what images that conjured for the poor female ungulate.

So she'd just sit there in the cafeteria on her break - around about eleven at night - and sadly munch away on her cabbage wrap with grass mayo, her jaw rolling to chew the rather plain cud and wistfully stare at the hottest thing in the place... the janitor. What a hunk of reptile! She had this penchant for the predators in the city - and this was something she often took to her bed... a lot!

To cool herself off all the more, she'd hesitate at a familiar spot just shy of the traffic-lights and huddled into a sandstone alcove of the mini-mart store that lit the street but doors down from Mangrove Sky.

She always tried to stop at this teeth-grinding stand about a block from her apartment building if not just to chat to its very enthusiastic, if little eccentric owner. But he was a clever ol' bird, and always convinced the rather naïve young hippo to get her teeth checked... always seemed to be a discount when Casey was around. C'est la vie! They needed checking and she needed a distraction.

Clark was his name. Such a brave soul taking on the duty of seeing incisors and molars that would otherwise tear and chew 'im up somethin' fierce! He was a smart parrot of probably fifty-five years of age, with an outstanding red-yellow beak that ensured the very cleanest and finest treatment for Casey's tusk-like teeth. He was so diligent, but he was also a superb salesman!

"Soooo..." He'd murmur over his pince-nez, leaning in and under Casey's upper jaw to inspect and file away at some stray growth, "...you got plans for the weekend Case'?"

"Uhhhh... 'ell I... 'ot 'eally I... inda 'ont oo 'et ome 'o i..."

"Gosh, I'm sorry honey!" Clark shook his head and laughed at his own ignorance, leaning out of her jaws and allowing her to get the words out properly, "Get into such a rhythm you see. What were you sayin', darlin'?"

"No no, it's fine, I... I guess nothing much this weekend." Casey sat up with a heave, the old dentist's chair creaking with her weight, before swinging her bulky hooves off the side, "I kinda' want to get some of my stories written n' stuff."

"Oh cool, you write?" Clark murmured, wiping his talon'd paws on a handy towel, "Anything I might've read?"

"Uhhh." She blushed, her ears flicking backward, "Not really. I uh... I tend to side with the adult stuff if you know what I mean."

"Ahhh!" Clark winked and nudged her playfully, "Say no more, darlin'!"

Casey's muzzle was still flushed red as she got to her feet, running her tongue across her teeth to clean the chippings and residue of Clark's diligent file. Hurriedly reaching for her purse and handing her friend a generous tip for his time, the young hippo bent down to grab her food and got back to finalizing her long walk home. She was honestly flattered that Clark had paid her hobby some attention, but just talking about it was enough for her to feel something sinful bubble-up from within.

Casey had lived at Mangrove Sky for about two years now, a set of apartments toward the centre of the city. It was a five-storey, multi-unit building that was surrounded by parks and takeaway restaurants... and her fellow residents were pretty cool. Not great, but they all kept themselves to themselves and were really kinda' standoffish and... oh who was she kiddin'?! She loathed being alone and not having the bravery to step out and step with some of the dudes at her complex.

You had to seem 'em to believe 'em. Hawt hunks of muscle under dark, scaly skin that made her crave it rubbing against her own thick hide. It was too much sometimes, it really was.

Had she been watchin' 'em? Sure she had! Was Casey playin' with her sodden pussy every time she'd look out of the spyhole on her door as another swaggering male swished by with that ever-so-tempting dinosauric tail? No question! Had she not-so-secretly been trying to get a rise out o' some of the hunky crocs that frequented the laundry room? You bet your sweet ass, she had!

Christ she needed a fuck!

And whilst her creed's name meant 'water horse', all the male hippos she met were fuckin' douchebags. Nothing but bluster and blubber... and nothin' happenin' below. Not nearly enough to satisfy her fantasies. Nothin' wrong in aimin' high... or huge in her case! So yeah, 'horses' they may have been, but they certainly weren't hung like them!

For now, she just had to cope with the lonely silence and the dulled scent of her second-floor apartment. Casey kept it neat and tidy, or at least as much as she could manage, knowing full well that her mum may stop by uninvited as was usual. There was mail on the mat, the young hippo stepping over it for now as she bee-lined for the kitchen counter to put those hefty groceries down with a relieved sigh.

Case' wiped her brow and looked around... paws alive, the dormance of her dormitory was depressing! The TV was dark but casting a thin rectangular shadow across the carpet as the morning sun came streaming in. She had a little kitchenette to the right as you padded in, an expansive living area with a one-hippo sofa to its heart - it was a dark shade of bottle-green to match her passion... crocodilian males! Snuggling on it, even when alone (which was pretty much all the time), reminded her of the ever-possibility of her dreams coming true.

The cream-coloured walls were relatively high which helped her not feel so claustrophobic. Being such a big gal' meant the more space she had above her head was beneficial when the swamp wasn't available beneath her. She kept a couple of spider plants hanging from the ceiling and on the tops of her cabinets, draping greenery that reminded her of the forest and the marsh... an ancestral comfort that she loved feeling against her bare fore-hooves as she wandered past.

The bathroom was a corner affair with a huge tub, a secret pleasure of Casey's. She just loved to wallow in the bubbles, letting the warm water caress her thick grey skin and - with one hoof on her phone and another below the water between her legs - watch some horny croc paw-off. There were plenty of porn sites out there. Heck, the populace was encouraged to show off and explore their sexuality whether gay, straight or bi... so there was always something beautifully erotic to choose from for a lonely young hippo just wanting... wanting... and then sometimes, as she thought about this deeper, her head would come forward and her hooves would both return atop her belly.

She wasn't wanting just sex.

She wanted to belong.

Self-pity aside - there'd be plenty of time for that later in the tub - Casey made herself a snack with what was left of the cricket pate and lettuce wraps she kept in the fridge, munching on it slowly as she padded into the musty confines of her little home. That'd have to tide her over 'til dinner... or breakfast... well it was barely eight in the morning. These hours - a graveyard shift - ruined your body clock... but the pay was good and she had enough after bills to expand on all these fantasies. Not as much as she desperately wished, but it allowed the hippo to invest in a little laptop and a camera, bringing her thoughts to life through the printed page.

She'd got a few reviews, posting her erotic shorts to the SteamyWaterz website. She'd been writing one about an adventurous pair of lovers who fucked everywhere the heat got to them... a slender and handsome alligator and a very lucky water buffalo girl. Sure, these girls she wrote about, getting' hollowed out and fucked silly, were really her under a different name. These females she scribbled about were her being bent over and made to scream by dicks that were always ready to pleasure.

Huge, maw-watering, throbbing fuckin' cocks that she ached to have sink up her ass!

As you can imagine, all the lip-biting and whimpering in the world didn't stop her having to pause during her story writing all too often. With her laptop set aside to get up from the sofa, she'd regularly have to dash with it to the bedroom and grind herself to a sticky, loud finish on a handy pillow, or perhaps finger herself stupid whilst her tearful eyes read desperately through paragraph after paragraph.

So, no matter external opinion, these stories helped her get to sleep on numerous occasions. She was proud to be able to have the imagination enough to satisfy her own cravings... but nothing could replace the real thing, surely?!

Her favourite, her absolute favourite stories were those where she was actually written into the action... she roleplayed in fantastically naughty and sinful scenarios with the guy's here at the apartment building. Whilst she didn't use their names, she had their body types, personalities and even their scents down to a fine art. Under pseudonyms, she'd romp with them, surrender to their every whim and be totally and utterly there's for night after night after night.

Casey would be sodden wet as she typed with the specially-adapted keyboard (suiting those broad hooves), hurriedly scrawling about those red-raw cocks slammin' into her, shootin' load after hot sticky load up her backside. She could almost feel them throb, smell their orgasms as they gripped her thick hide to pump her full. And then there was the torturous temptation meted out by the larger of the crocs, a convenient replacement for the head of security at the apartment complex (cos' that's who she was really thinkin' about!). Paws above, he just loved rubbing that huge dong across her aching slit, teasing her with a whip between her buttocks, spillin' his load over her prone hooves... she could feel its lukewarm stickiness seep across her, the luxurious sinfulness of being this stud's bitch!

What an amazing set of thoughts!

She'd even tried a little camera action on the _SteamyWaterz_website, but showing-off on cam and writing about what she wanted done to her was only ever gonna' give her relief for so long. Casey was done with this virtual reality... she needed the real thing.

It was only then that she was desperately thinking of an excuse to leave her apartment. She padded around looking for clothes that could do with a wash... and shit, even if she couldn't find any, she was feeling so pawsdamned horny that she'd re-wash stuff that had only just gone through a cycle. Sure, there was little around, but it was closing in on nine o'clock and Casey knew that that was when those hunky crocs would hang out around the laundry room.

Grinning slyly, her senses loaded with stale grass and vague keratin from Clark's tooth treatment, the hippo whipped off her white cotton polo and chucked it into a very small pile of clothes. This'd do, for sure! And whilst she couldn't exactly pad down to the room butt-naked, she wanted to go in as little as possible to get as much attention as possible. Her near-transparent night shirt that only barely covered her pussy would be perfect.

With her very small pile of washing in her ample hooves, she breathed deep and opened her door, padding along the hallway to the laundry room down near the fire exit. The walk was one where she could feel her heart almost bounce outta' her chest. There were the nerves, evermore prevalent when her tiny but keen ears picked up the very masculine banter of those from which she craved the attention. Casey did a somersault in her mind, unable to keep the smile from get muzzle... yes! They were there! But she had to play it cool, real cool. Couldn't come off as desperate.

The boys had to work for this body!

Her journey was soon over and she wandered through the door, met with the sight of four crocs loungin' around, killin' some time as one of them had their clothes in the wash. Lee was the lad sat atop one of the machines, his sleek and slender muzzle so very handsome, whilst his tail was a lot shorter than any of the others. Dean stood opposite, leaning his huge six-feet-five frame against the motheaten plaster and puffing away on a cigarette, sure to keep closest the window so that none of the detectors would be set-off. He was the head of security, the guy about whom Casey had long fantasised. Paws almighty, look at that pendant bulge in those tight jeans! He was a vast hulk of muscle, darkest green with black flecks across his muzzle and tail. She was long smitten with this guy.

The other two - Ryan and Anthony - also worked here, and were stood with their tails to the door, clawed paws in the belt loops of their trousers. It was enough to smell their aroma before stepping in, let alone to see the sweat-soaked backs of their sleeveless shirts. Casey was already biting her lip in anticipation.

"Ooo, hey there Case'!" Dean murred, a sly grin making those dino teeth appear in serried, sharp rows. He heaved himself away from the wall, cigarette to the side of his maw and looking the young hippo up n' down.

When they realized their extra company, the other three turned, almost all of them doing double-takes as they noticed how much (or indeed, how little) Casey was wearing.

"Wow!" Lee murmured under his breath, paws either side of himself and readying to jump down.

That sentiment was in the dropped jaws and the tighter feeling in crotches as the hippo made herself at home next to the free washer. Casey just smiled at them, being as brave as she could. She was shaking with nerves but knew - or at least hoped - that her little display would be enough for them to know that she was serious.

The wag of her tail said nothing more than 'follow me... please!' In her rich oestral scent she was signaling that she needed to mate; and she left it at that, aside from - after turning on the machine - turning tail to her audience and wagging her whippy cord in flamboyant salaciousness, grinning over her left shoulder as she did so. Casey then padded out and away down the corridor, all the while feeling the crocs' eyes burning into her barely bare backside.

Dean was the first to make a move, swishing his tail in excitement and stubbing out his fag on the windowsill.

"Well I dunno' about you three, but I'm gonna' get me a piece o' that!" He grunted, gaze trailing the hippo's every hoofstep.

"Are you really gonna'...?" Anthony ventured, his keen eyes lazier now, dormant and brooding in the wake of the very impromptu display by a prey female. He was leaning back against the wall and thumbing in the direction of the hallway.

"What? Are you fuckin' gay or somethin'?! Course I am, donkey brain!" Dean snorted, "Can't you fuckin smell that? And shit, did you see that ass and that thong she was wearin?"

"Well yeah, but... well, I mean no I'm not gay but..."

"But what?"

Lee just gulped hard as did Ryan, but neither was about to get left out, especially when they saw Ant' shrug and smile with a shit-eating grin, joining Dean over by the door.

"You dorks gonna' join us or what?!" The larger croc called out with a horny nonchalance.

Lee was the more standoffish and romantic of the four friends but could definitely see why everyone was so interested in a hippo who was clearly intent on a very special kind of attention. Ryan on the other paw was a rather obnoxious type when he was alone or with only one other friend, but became a lot more submissive and prone when he was with larger guys. He was a bit of a wimp to be honest but had the nickname 'Rip' for a reason... cos' when he got goin' with a girl, he was freakin' unstoppable. Fuckin' ploughed like a croc possessed leavin' 'em screamin' for more. Buffalo, fox or croc girls, it didn't matter... he totally split 'em in half!

"I guess... I... well..." The two, left to their devices in the laundry, looked at one another and muttered and mumbled around like a couple o' old women!

"Come on already!" Dean wasn't about to let this chance get away, padding out the door and standing in the hallway, waiting to be joined by his friends, "I ain't called Dino for nothin'. I wanna' get this huge thing up that ass!"

The horny ol' devil was grasping and rubbin' at his dick, feelin' himself get hard at the thoughts of tight ass and pussy. He was getting wet to the aromas that his snout picked up... a piquant scent of a female in need. Anthony was the one who had his keen swamp-green eyes cast down the hallway, trailing the needy bitch... and ultimately the angst of those in the doorway drew Rip and Lee into the heady mixture, the gang of four padding confidently toward Casey's apartment.

"Basement open, right Ryan?" Ant' murmured out the side of his long muzzle.

"Sure! You wanna'...?"

"Uh huh, you bet I do! Freakin' been a week since I got any, and the smell o' that pussy ain't gonna' be enough for me. I wanna' give her what she wants!"

Back in her apartment, Casey was biting her hooves in desperation, her eyes trained on the closed door. Please, oh god please! Follow me back and teach me a lesson. Bring it all down on me. Cover me, fuck me, treat me like a whore. I want it so bad and... and then came the knock. Aside from her excitement, she swaggered over and opened the door without any hesitation. Coulda' been anyone, but she knew... she just knew!

Sure enough, her 'porch' was endowed with a quad of very horny crocs, two either side with two at the very mouth of the entrance.

"Oh security! I'm glad you came..." She padded forward, brushing her hooves across Dean's bare chest, "I uh... I have an issue!"

She sidled her broad muzzle to the croc's left shoulder and whispered to his cultrate ear.

"A wet, sore... tight issue."

The aching in her voice was coupled only with the physical heat of her thick grey pelt. It was coming off in waves.

"Well uh..." He growled, pushing his claws to her wide hips, gripping and riding-up her thin, white nightshirt, "...we have the answer to ya' troubles, Case'. Come with us, naughty girl!"

Her dreams were finally coming true. How true was gonna' be a surprise even to her!