FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

With the curtains closed and the lights down, the living room was the perfect romantic spot. We cuddled on the couch, my arm laying over his side and idly flicking his nipple now and then through his shirt, making him giggle and squirm like an excited puppy. For his part, he took every opportunity to press that cute butt of his back into my crotch, ensuring I'd been half-hard all evening. It was just good, horny fun, casually preparing for the more intense pleasures to come.

When the film finally ended, I'd barely turned the television off before I was being pushed down to allow the slim dog to slide on top of me. He licked my muzzle and grinned at me. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Nice couch you've got here."

"Thanks, it's my favourite."

We kissed, tongues testing out one another's tastes, and I let my hands grip his hips a little harder to hold him in place as I drew circles with my hardening cock. He'd been locked since our last meeting, and I could feel the wetness oozing through his jeans already. If he'd followed my instructions, he'd be just as wet on the other side: filled to the brim with his roommate's load. I had to get that guy properly involved sometime. It felt like we were communicating with an ancient form of Morse code: one load for dot, none for dash.

So far, the message was just a lot of fucking dots.

I was sliding my hand behind one cheek to begin exploring the message in his ass when a violent crashing sound behind us made him scream and throw his arms around my chest, eyes wide and fixed on something behind me. I already knew what he was seeing, and I tried to damp down my annoyance as I pushed myself up onto one arm to look at my own roommate.

Abraxos was leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand covering his eyes, the other fumbling at the lid of a bottle of OJ. His claws kept getting in the way, and every time his grip slipped, he swore in a language that sounded like it had been invented to end the universe. Behind him, the ground was covered in clothes where he'd smashed his way through the drying rack we kept in the hall. No fucking way I was paying for another of those.

"Heeeey, Abraxos..." I ventured.

He waved a dark, clawed hand in my general direction, eyes still covered. A groan dragged itself from his lips and fled for cover, and the bottle of OJ fell over and then onto the floor after a final failed attempt to open it. He groaned again and put both hands to his face, dragging in vast breaths that whistled as they swept through his fangs.

"Why the fuck do I *drink*...?"

The pup on top of me quivered as my roommate's distressingly loud voice echoed off the walls, and I clasped him tighter. "Yeah, heh. Hangovers suck, huh?"

Abraxos let his hands fall and felt his way along the kitchen counter to the fridge, pulling it open and snuffling about inside for something. He emerged with a container of eggs, peered at them warily, then took one and dropped it into his open mouth, making a face directly after. "Ugh. These eggs taste like shit."

"Well, I think you usually take the shells off first..."

Another close look, then a shrug as he ate a second one. "Not *bad* shit." With two eggs consumed, he finally stood up straight and looked at me, noticing my date for the first time. He nodded, his horns almost piercing a light fixture in the process. "Hey."

"This, uh, this is Abraxos," I explained. "My roommate." The pup said nothing, which was pretty normal. It'd be normal even if your first encounter with a weregargoyle was with one of the regular, seven-foot-height-and-with-clothes-on types. Abraxos, by contrast, was closer to nine feet, and only wore clothes under threat of eating them if they became uncomfortable at any point. In the apartment, he never did. Thus, as he now blinked around the room as if seeing it for the first time and cleaned raw egg from his fangs with a long, black, forked tongue, my date was mesmerised and distressingly distracted by the foot and a half of uncut demon dong the weregargoyle packed between his legs. To my chagrin it was currently half-hard: his fire-red cocktip smeared with semen and his smokey shaft glistening with lube. Apparently hangovers were no impediment to him getting his immense rocks off.

Abraxos lifted the OJ bottle from the floor with a dextrous foot and made another heroic attempt to open it, finally succeeding and immediately downing the entire thing before concluding with a wall-shaking belch. "Fuuuuuck. Tha's better." He scratched his crotch furiously, making his cock and balls jump about in a very distracting manner, followed by his chest and armpits, ensuring the air of the room was entirely suffused with his various scents. "Well," he said. "Bye." With a smaller belch he turned and made his woozy way back out of the living room, his crimson wings fluttering a little against his back and his perfect, globular ass bouncing with every step. When the door to his room crashed closed, I looked back at my date.

"Sorry. He's kind of a--"

"I want him." The canine's eyes were big, his mouth panting. "I want *him*."

Well, shit. Not again.