FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I woke up that day, thinking it was going to be like any other. A distant owl hooted beyond the half-opened window in my humid bedroom, echoing through the mobile home.

My paw eagerly wandered down to the morning wood leaking tenting between my legs, then jack it to whatever lewd images came to mind; the athletic coywolf in his late teens who worked occasionally at the grocery store in the meat section (ironic, huh?), the busty vixen neighbor who loved sporting short jeans during the perpetual summertime, or maybe even to the sweaty bodies of countless furs I'd seen on pornos across the years. Gay, straight, ménage à trois, orgies, kinky shit, it never mattered to an old school bear like me. A hole was still a hole, if they were of age to consent.

Normally, I'd be likely to go on the Internet to find a good hookup, maybe even a fine piece of ass that'd be worthy enough for me to drive to their house. My old car worked well enough those days. Plus, there existed several faces in town who preferred greying old bears like me (my dick always got hard whenever a younger horny lad with daddy issues called me 'Papa Bear'). However, I didn't feel like bothering to get dressed that day, let alone distract myself with a willing partner to drown away my memories.

See...it was the anniversary of when I fucked up. Thirty years. Thirty years spent living a lie. Thirty years wasting away in an old trailer home tucked in the bayous outside of Cape Fiesta, far away from the bitter Minnesota cold I grew up in. If I saw another face while fucking them on my bed--or theirs--I'd only see the eyes and muzzle of the young man I--

"Nope, fuck, don't think about it..." I murmured to myself, my left paw gripping the base of my shaft.

Desperate to climax and get on with the rest of the day, I willed myself to imagine the grocer wolf's young, tight end, hear him whimpering as he slid on and off my cock. My lustful mind even threw in the sensational thought of nibbling on a tigress' pert nipples as my right paw teased her dripping folds. Yeah...perfect.

"C'mon, now...Mfh!" Spurts of bear cum squirted from my tip all over my bare chest, momentarily drowning me in waves of distracting nirvana. "Ah...Ah..."

Part of me regretted quitting the cigars. They really helped me with stress before retiring from the factory, as well as made me feel good after a (self-)lovemaking session.

Unfortunately, the memories trickled back as I showered and got ready for the day. Temporary images of Lucas and I in his car, shouting at each other until a barrage of broken glass and bending metal brought me back to the present. Rise and repeat.

A good bowl of cereal and some TV reruns did the trick to distract me. TV always helped, especially regarding all the entertaining crap you could find. Reality shows trying to be the next big hit, a 24/7 news channel displaying the next big controversy of the day; Lakertown finally decided to ban some herbivore-hating pricks from building a compound near the city limits, the President tweeted something stupid once again, another actor in Las Estrellas face multiple sexual harassment lawsuits, and Manhattan City faced a small blackout that lasted for a couple of hours.

Naked as can be, I leaned back into my chair and shoveled down the cereal before deciding to waddle back to the fridge for a beer. Hey, it's dinnertime somewhere on Earth.

The day went on like any other. Retired effectively since the year before and enjoying myself living the bachelor's life in a trailer park on the outskirts of Cape Fiesta, I expected nothing less than an eventful evening of being a couch potato. Now, once upon a time, I did go out and about and made the most out of life even before...well...ya know. I liked to hang out with drinking buddies, go out for a good shag, maybe see a good movie and listen to some music while taking the car out for a drive along the Florida beaches. However, retirement often brought out the laziness of furs in unexpected ways, to the point my social security checks guaranteed I'd never go hungry.

To be frank, some furs liked to be outdoors while others didn't. Me? I liked to be a mixture of both worlds, taking advantage of the fact I hated humidity to stay indoors with the A/C turned on high in my trailer.

Looking back however, I kind of wish I'd found the motivation to get my ass off the couch and get dressed, making the best of that day before a fateful knock at the door ruined the rest of my life.

Hastily placing a pair of used shorts on, I timidly answered the door...only to be face-to-face with a middle-aged rottweiler and calico police officer, the latter holding up a black-and-white image of a younger bear.

"Mr. James Anderson?" the rottweiler held up his badge. "I'm Officer Barber and this is Officer Mayfield. We have reason to believe you are a wanted fugitive named James Alette."

Thirty years. Thirty years spent escaping my past. Escaping the night that I officially ruined my life by driving one of my lovers back to his place while inebriated, killing another couple in the process when I hit their car. Blood was on my paws. Lucas' and the couple's, which had eaten at my very soul after all the years living under another identity.

In the end, I put up little of a fight other than asking that I wear a shirt to the station. What other choice did I have?

One of the officers cuffed my wrists and led me out to their vehicle, muttering aloud, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right..."

Everything blurred into nothing as they pushed me inside the back seat and brought me to booking. All this time, I wondered if they would ever come for me, but now, I couldn't help but feel relief.