FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Montana's landscapes reminded me so much of the old American commercials involving cigarettes. The ones featuring cowboys from the Old West stoically looking off into a perfect sunset. What set it apart from other rural states like Idaho and Wyoming though was how much infrastructure I saw while passing along the roads. I didn't mean there was no farmland to be found, far from it. My Fjord truck clocked in enough miles so far that I felt certain the dealership I was renting it from would have his money's worth. Not to mention how many podunk gas stations I needed to stop at an order refill afterward, despite the good mileage.

Unlike Idaho however, it didn't take long for me to find a twink on Howlr. Named 'KinkyBearBoi4U', but insisting I call him Elijah when we started to DM, he was a farmer's son Fortunate enough to have parents incredibly inept with digital technology. According to the lonely bear straight out of high school, his papa still struggled around understanding movie streaming, often relying on his son for help. The parents were also out of town to visit family on the other end of the state and trusting him to keep the farm running in their absence. It would appear that he often invited strangers over for some fun whenever he got done with his chores.

KinkyBearBoi4U: Very carefully listen. The nearest neighbor is several acres away on the other side of a cornfield, but his wife sometimes stops by unannounced to check on me. Park in the area between the barn and the house, then go straight for the barn. It'll be open.

KinkyBearBoi4U: Understand sir?

Me: Sure thing, kiddo. Better get yourself ready for me~

I found the property easily enough via GPS. It lay a dozen or so miles outside of Last Chance. Composed of several acres and mostly catering to what I assumed were milking cows, as well as perhaps corn, The driveway led me to a ranch-styled home resting beside a large vintage barn. The recent coat of paint on it did well to hide the years, but what immediately caught my attention was the large door sitting ajar. Beckoning me to enter.

I parked the Fjord as instructed, then upon adjusting myself below the tacky cowboy belt I'd bought while driving out of Idaho, I opened the door.

The smell of musty hay and animal manure didn't distract me as much as expected. A working air conditioner on the wall took care of it plenty. Yeah, my eyes immediately fell on what stood in the center of the barn; a well-muscled yet slim-bellied grizzly bear with thick brown fur, leaning his backside against a large tractor while wearing nothing but a baseball cap and a pair of muddy boots.

Both of Elijah's ursine paws rested on each side of those wide hips, and I felt the growing erection under that tacky belt buckle beg itself to be free through my jeans.

"Glad you could make it, sir," he said in a wild but sultry tone. "How was your ride?"

"It was fine," I almost stammered, but recovered to give a knowing smirk. "But no, I'm looking to give you one, boy."

"That's the spirit!" He laughed as he got off the tractor. "Right this way."

Elijah turned to walk around the tractor, and I followed like a man in a horny trance. Once we came to a wooden ladder leading up to the second-story hayloft, the bear unceremoniously began climbing up as I trailed closely behind. Those mounds of his hypnotized me all the while. So round and firm beneath a layer of mahogany fur, carrying enough meat back there to still have it flex from each step up the ladder. It made drool trickle out of my lower jaw.

"Wait," I spoke up. As Elijah paused a good two-thirds up. "Can I...taste you back there?"

Elijah gave a surprised look, only to then giggle. "Of course, big guy," he replied. "I've actually always wanted to try it on here--oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck!"

His moans were music to my ears the instant I lapped hungrily up his trench. I tasted remnants of pine-scented soap, a young man's perspiration, and a drop of his earthly musk. The proper taste of a farm boy. Meanwhile, Elijah couldn't get enough of my ravenous tongue, holding onto the ladder in an audible death grip as he pushed his rear end into my muzzle. He gyrated his crack into my nose as I spread him wider open for easier access. One I no longer needed to, I gripped onto the wooden ladder and used my free paw to hold onto his tail, which wiggled in my paw like a vibrating joystick on an old console. The comparison didn't stop there, not when I clasped it in my palm, then rubbed it back and forth and around until he shuddered all over above me.

In the end, Elijah came out jets of his cum all over the hay underneath the ladder, and I had the opportunity to feel it all happen. However, a single awestruck glance at each other had us knowing we were far from over. Far, far from over. This was clear as day as soon as I scrambled up the ladder behind him and he was already tossing away his baseball cap and kicking off those boots to the foot of a conveniently placed blanket sitting atop a pile of hay. Me? I almost snapped off my belt buckle while tugging off my clothes in a feverish instant.

The truth was I didn't mind my twinks having some meat to their hips. It made bareback (heh, 'bear-back') fucking all the more fun, particularly when I felt his ass cheeks bounce off my thrusting hips. He squeezed around my shaft in a vice, but not to the point where it became difficult to push into his warm depths, then drink in the sensation of my balls swinging against his. Elijah whimpered less like a bear and more like a proud bitch in heat as I went to town inside his presented tailhole, growling when I nipped at his round ears. He then growled louder and louder as I fondled one of his hanging pecs. When my cupping and teasing became too much, I went to the other. Tweaking each nipple of his, toying it and playing with the nubs and pulling them like the teats of a cow to be milked, I made the lad produce pleasurable noises. They rang and echoed throughout the barn.

Still, we needed to be careful, not to be too noisy. We were able to quiet down his snarls by exploring each other's mouths, but it didn't stop Elijah from arching his back and giving a mighty grizzly roar when I finally knotted the farm boy, and he came a second time all over again. Then, we collapsed together in a sweaty, musky, panting, sore heap.

"Say..." he asked me between deep breaths of air, "it's almost dinner time. Want me to make ya some grub before going back on the road?"

That was around when my belly spoke up through a hungry growl, and I laughed, "I'd love some of this 'grub'. I'm starved."

Seriously, I needed to hook up with farmers more often.