FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Are you... Are you sure it's OK?" The voice beneath Swanson wavered, a touch of excitement, a touch of fear wavering the red vixen's normally soft and whispery vocals. The centaur couldn't see much more than the tip of her nose beneath him, or her heavy paws as they slung over and clenched into the upper bar of the barnyard gate. He adjusted his hooves carefully. Planting the heavy black walls until they were just a bare inch from her fingers. Shifting wearily, he found his balance, and braced for it, back hooves digging in to the hard packed dirt. They were alone, likely for miles around unless a car happened by. A wide field behind them and a near forest of trees to either side, the barnyard and main house to their front. It was an isolated place, at the edge of a nature preserve, Swanson's ownership coming from a lucky bit of land purchase that came down from generations within his family. And now he lived there alone, father missing since the day of his birth and mother gone off and lost herself somewhere. It'd been years now, and he couldn't say he ever really cared for her. He was his own man, enough money to cover the farm and any additional work affording him any luxury he wanted. He didn't work very often though- Most of his time was spent at the community school, where he met pretty foxes like Rispa here.

"C'mon. I've done this plenty of times before, didn'tcha know?" The black haired, black furred and very nearly black skinned stallion snorted, running a hand along his thick forearm. He was a few quite a few shades off from his skin matching completely- Many of his friends likened it to a lightly creamed coffee, and while he couldn't say it was exactly a polite comparison, he couldn't say they were wrong. He was already exotic enough as a centaur in a region where most people wore exclusively fur, humans not more than a tenth of the population, and almost none of those held anything but white skin. It left him a little lonely at times, but at other's... Well, he didn't even know this girl's name at the start of the day, and now he could feel her twitching with excitement as he rested the weight of his growing member upon her back. It was nearly as thick as one of his arms, the dense and meaty length pulsing as it touched upon her downy fur, dragging along the slight curve of her back until it started to slip off by the slope of her tail, causing him to grind back forward. Her hips perking up, bumping against him while feeling the size. He could hear her breath quivering, tension rising, excitement melding with her fear, her determination. There were certainly benefits to being someone unique.

"I *didn't* know..." Rispa's voice sounded rather disgruntled. He knew her pretty cheeks would be puffing out and pouting right about now, that slender muzzle jaw clenched. He just grinned, leaning his human half down and rubbing her along the neck, scritching into the scruff in just the right spot that he knew she liked. He could see her, but he could feel the way she shivered, her bare back bristling and tickling along his equine chest, that bushy tail lifting and tickling against his thighs. "Well... Well be gentle at least. *I'm* not use to this sort of thing." She dropped her voice to the barest murmur "Especially not with a horse..."

"You'll have to guide me in with your tail then, or maybe a hand. I won't be able to hit the mark so sweetly without you dear!" His ears twitched with irritation over being called a horse, the thicker membrane clad with fuzz, but not quite as long as they would have been on a proper equine. Swanson did not let it effect his voice though, sounding silky-smooth and what he hoped came across as suave. He'd been told his voice was a little too gravelly for it, but girls seemed to take it well enough. It seemed to work for her at least- Her tail wrapped against the girth of his cock, cradling it gently along the base, and he slowly pulled back. Letting his fat, blunted head drop away from her upper curves, pressing in to her pucker and making her inhale sharply and hiss out 'Not there!', a splotch of his wet pre smearing along the fur as it grazed on by. He probably could have found his way without her tail, but being wrapped in that fine, bushy fur was a sensation he adored, something he'd savor until he found another nice equine beside himself to call his own. Any mare in town seemed to be old enough to be his grandmother, or lacked the sapient brain to converse with, and neither really appealed to him in any way.

Down, down he went, he could feel weight of his cock making her tail strain and sag as his arousal grew. He couldn't help it- It was a heavenly sensation- But he was a little worried he might grow too stiff to fit in before he rached. He could feel the edges of her slit as he worked and shifted with her- And sometimes against her- To get properly lined up. And then, with a hoof stepping forward, he slid himself in. Flat, blunted skin pushing and straining against that pocket of fuzz and flesh. Straining her, making her grunt and whimper out a little 'Oh no', but blood surged through through his member, and with a second, shimmied step he was in. Heat and wet and a slight tugging from fur that had plastered over her head bloomed around his nerves, wrapping in from every direction, leaving Swanson to tremble with delight. Rispa was heaving beneath him, her muzzle wide as she panted out, her knuckles clenching the bar of the gate so heavily that they trembled. The gate held still though- It was well built and well-maintained. Perfect height for acts like this, and he never wanted it swaying.

"T-too much. It's too much Swanson!" Her voice caught as she choked out the words, swallowing halfway through them to complete the thought. She shuddered, body so tense that she was frozen in place, at least for the moment, and Swanson took full advantage. His shaft rolling, pulling back half an inch for better alignment, then surged forward again, three full inches driving forward, her wet flesh slipping apart under that unstoppable mass even as it strained to hold him, the vixen letting out a pinched cry.

"Swanson! Stop it, stop it. Take it out!" Her voice was rendered hoarse, and she tried to pull back, but his next thrust made her stumble forward, chest slamming on the center bar, her legs giving a little spasm as they tried to drop away- A couple inches spilling out from the reduced angle- But he rolled his hips downwards and thrust back up, making up for the lost space and adding a bit more, her hips jerking and tail giving a spasm as it tried to uncoil from his remaining length. "You're too big, it hurts..." She almost wheezed the words, panic clear.

Allistor felt irritation flash through him, a little snarl touching his voice "I'm not too big, you're just too small, you dumb girl. I thought that foxes were supposed to have a large capacity" His voice reeked with sarcasm. Never any mares... Everyone was too damn small. It had stopped mattering to him long ago. He needed relief, he deserved relief, just like anyone else did, and he couldn't do it himself. Nobody else did it in the right way either. He stepped forward again, feeling the tightness of her walls, how they strained over him like the sides of an overfilled sack, how he crammed in inch after inch and the flesh pulsed and resisted even as the tenderness accepted him all. Blunted head curving and compressing as it struck a pliable barrier held deep within- Yet not even half of him was pressed inside. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. His frustration grew.

The girl was whimpering, tears forming along the lids of her eyes, her chest pressed tight to the middle bar, flat, one of her breasts impacted directly, while the other was straining over the upper curve. She was so panicked, so overwhelmed, that she hadn't thought to use her arms to slant off and move away yet. He denied her the option by shifting a forehoof over one, his full weight bearing down upon it, neither the crunch of bone or the resulting cry bothering the man at all. His hips tucked down in, cupping either of her thighs, stabilizing her and aligning her in a way a feral horse wouldn't have the sense for as he began to thrust in earnest.

"It hurts..." The vixen moaned the words out in a sob, repeating them more quietly as he body quaked beneath his. Wet, slopping slaps would have made anyone think he had cum, and there might very well be some small bit of his pre mixed in with the blood that had begun to trickle down, but the truth was that that the sheer girth of his cock was tearing her, expanding her with more vigor than her body was ever meant to handle. Battering down her cervix core, the roughness not pleasant for even Swanson- It was like smacking his dick on a sponge, not dangerous but not enjoyable either- But he wanted to go deeper. He needed to go deeper. He needed more!

"You're hurting me... Please. It hurts so much. Just stop, I won't tell anyone..." Her pleas were rushed and continuous, devolving into babble as she quaked beneath him, deep sobs breaking them up entirely. They annoyed him, but he ignored it, focused on working his hips, tail flicking as he rolled his hips back, feeling himself sliding through her womb, the rush of wet and heat gripping those new inches. It wasn't enough. He pulled himself back again, slammed forward, deep and frantic, moving entire inches at a time yet faster than males a quarter his size could sometimes achieve. Rispa's body sagged, Swanson's breath catching as pleasure started to bloom through him with the warmth, her walls felt softer than when he'd started, the pressure seeping in down to his very nerves. It wasn't enough.

He wasn't quite aware when it happened, mind and body starting to integrate, one feeding off the other to feed into raw instinct, his thrusts growing more shallow until suddenly he was delving in deeper than he had before. The vixen's stomach bulging grotesquely as he slid through a canvas that was slick and slippery, Rispa's breath exhaling in a sharp woosh like she'd just had the wind knocked out of her. Shock made her fur fluff out, her muscles clenching and tensing with such vigor that she shook, hot urine leaking down the length of his cock as she lost control of her faculties. Swanson didn't care. This is what he needed. His hips rolling as his flare expanded across her organs, hips very nearly growing flush with her own, only the natural differences in their curves keeping them from locking together completely. Their bodies rocked together as one, his knuts brushing against her tail, against even the backs of her thighs as they swayed, the gate rattling as he humped upwards as much as in, trying to savor the sensation as his veins gave their telltale pulse and swell.

His cum flooded through her guts as she muttered out a hazy "What have you done?" He ignored her, of course. She was as good as dead now. He had no idea the amount of damage he did, breaking into a girl's belly like that, had felt so guilty the first time it had happened, but there was no way the body was equipped to handle the gushing waves of semen that flowed out into it as if being pushed from a hose, his first orgasm in nearly a whole month. There was no matching that sensation of relief, of pleasure, no matter how hard he tried. Infection would surely kill her even if she received medical help for the damage and blood. It wasn't his fault that he had no other choice.

He rocketed his shaft along that squishy belly a few more times before the sensation grew too overwhelming, pulling back and stepping a second hoof over the small of her back for additional leverage, pushing hard enough that he was sure he felt the bones shift, but it wasn't like he did it to cause extra damage. He could feel his flare tugging at her flesh, catching on this or that, squeezing back through the new hole he had torned, and passing far more easily through her ruined canal than it had going in, the way it squeezed over that fat ridge making him release a splatter of cum right over all the other liquids. He heard the gush of fluids as he vacated the hole, of something meaty and slimy-wet splatting down with it all, but he didn't care to look. It was gross, after all.

She wheezed at him, hips slumping into the puddle, eyes pleading as they stared after him, her strength all gone. He was grateful she didn't scream more or protest- It always irked him when it happened- And he passed her a glance back. Her good hand was gripping the lowest of the gate bars, and her fur looked half ragged, half as pretty as if freshly brushed, largely boiling down to where she'd brushed up against him or the bars. Her thighs were stained red, and her belly had a lopsided bulge- Something was hanging out of her crotch. Swanson paused, considering for a moment if he should do something, then shook his head and turned his head away with disgust, making his way for the farmhouse. A hose or rain would take care of the mess, and he could drag her body into the pen for the pigs later.