FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Twinks in my category of sex partners often needed to fit certain criteria. The biggest and most important one (besides the encounter being consensual, on both our parts) involved him needing to be at least eighteen. Sure, I like to break the rules once in a while when it came to sleeping with adult men in countries that specifically outlawed homosexuality. Hell, I often relished doing it, but even I had standards. Which was why I preferred to make sure my eighteen, nineteen, or twenty-year-old hookups did happen to be the appropriate ages.

Boulder, Arizona was no different. After recovering in the motel room from another long drive, I woke up around midnight feeling horny. Like, incredibly horny. The kind of the last four horniness where I could literally fuck my pillows senseless until the feathers burst out. So, after showering meticulously and placing a complementary white bathrobe around my clean body, I perused through Howlr for several minutes. I ignored a few messages and messaged a few profiles, until a DM from a certain user (located within a couple of miles too!) can't my eye. A faceless jackal with a beautifully skinny body that had the most lusciously dark fur and finally sculpted ass I could ever imagine fucking. We traded a few pictures, talked about our aligned kinks, then waited as I invited him to my room. He claimed he could walk just fine from where he lived. I wondered about asking him if he owned a car until I figured the lad likely couldn't or didn't want to drive the short distance.

Half an hour after one in the morning, I partially opened the door. Dressed in dark clothing and staring at me like a transfixed fanboy stood a jackal. He appeared around the age of an average highschooler, but which age, I couldn't tell.

"Good, it's you," he breathed easily. "I was afraid you were another flaker."

"Wait," I held up a paw before inviting him inside, staring down at the short canine. "Identification, now."

"Seriously?" He complained.

I glared at him. "I'm completely serious."

The jackal lad tried to argue, "I am eighteen, you saw it on my profile, right?"

"I'm neither stupid nor desperate to fuck someone who is under the age of consent."

"But isn't Germany's at fourteen?" He tried to joke, only for it to fall flat as I continued frowning. He reached into his back pocket and groaned, "Ugh, fine."

Apps such as Howlr and Pred8r had a minimum age requirement of users being at least eighteen years old, no matter the state or jurisdiction. It didn't matter if the age of consent in one state was lower than another when both apps drew a hard line on how older a user had to be. Still, it didn't prevent stupid teenagers from trying to hook up with older men to feel more adult. Or, perhaps to get a thrill out of breaking rules. Legal rules, societal rules, family rules, whatever got them feeling alive. I'd seen such profiles over the years, but never risked everything just for a good way without knowing they were being truthful.

I examined his driver's license carefully. Timothy Joseph Moore, born eighteen years exactly since yesterday. No indents, strange textures, or discoloration. The annoyed yet relaxed and subtly apprehensive posture on the skinny jackal boy confirmed he didn't dare hand me a forgery. Otherwise, I would've thrown it out into the hallway, and slammed the door shut before reporting his profile to the admins. If not, outright blocked him afterward.

Thankfully I didn't need to.

"Heh," handing it back to the lad, I widened the door open and spread my arms out, "Then happy birthday, kiddo."

The jackal's face lit up. He stepped inside the hotel room and kicked the door shut with his foot, scrambling to remove his clothes as he followed me to the large bed. While the outside window was partially closed and completely dark, the room remained let thanks to a sole lamp on the nightstand. I wanted to see every inch of the lad that late evening. Pulling apart my bathrobe, I lay back on the sheet just in time for the younger canine to suddenly jump towards me. He pounced on top me like a hungry animal. I groaned when his knee connected to my hip, which was enough for him to suddenly grow pale.

"I'm so so sorry, mister," he sputtered while trying to pull away from me. I wouldn't let him though. "Are you hurt or something? I just got a little excited and--ooomf!"

I retaliated by switching our positions, roughly pushing his back into the mattress with his arms raised and me glowering down at the discombobulated jackal. My right thumb caressed both of his excitedly shaking rests while the other stroked his blushing cheek. The grin across my dark muscle either intimidated him or sexually aroused the cocky pup.

"Shall I call you by your username," I proposed, "or will Timothy do? You can either call me 'sir', 'Daddy', or 'Sebastian' if you want to be fairer."

"Ahhh," he panted with addictive arousal, giving a self-assured smirk before moaning heavily when I caressed One of his heated ears. "Ahh...all of the above?"

"Now we're talking," I licked my chops while slowly kissing him with more experienced lips. "Happy eighteenth birthday, Timothy."

For only being eighteen years and one day old, the lad knew plenty of things for his age. He didn't gag around my dogcock when it revealed itself from the confines of my comfy sheath, nor did he blink at my size. Drool like it was a fine steak dinner? Certainly, but not pause. He didn't seem phased about taking it up his tail, like he'd done it before on plenty of occasions.

I pushed it to the darker recesses of my mind. For all I knew, Timothy just had a friend-with-benefits on the side. Instead, my carnal inhibitions took control of the steering wheel. I showed my dominance on the cocky jackal. I fucked him, I sucked him, nibbled on his neck below the collarbone, stroked his sides until he squirmed around my dick, and made him come hard enough to nearly pass out. Had he been closer to my age, it most certainly would have happened, based on the way his back arched and how far he shot up to the ceiling, lying next to me like an exhausted runner after crossing the finish line.

"Holy...shit," he gasped repeatedly as we lay next to each other in a sweaty heap. "Don't think...I've been fu...fucked that...hard...since prom."

"Feeling okay?" I asked after regaining the ability to speak properly, having tired out myself too. "Did I...I go a little too hard?"

"Absolutely not," Timothy gathered his strength and shifted onto his side to face me. The smell of leaking semen permeated behind him. "That was...fucking...fantastic. You...oh, you were fantastic!"

"So, I have heard," I laughed in amusement, clearing my throat as I followed his gaze up to an uninteresting ceiling. "I uh, can carry you to the shower if you're still tired. It's getting late, and I doubt your parents will be happy--"

"Fuck my parents," he suddenly scoffed, having already calmed his breathing down. "I got three brothers and four sisters. I didn't even notice that I walked out the front door, or that I didn't go into school today. All too busy with their own problems and such."

One of my ears perked and then twitched at the implications of his home life.

"Well then, wanna stay the night then?"

My response from him came in the form of a surprised but happy kiss, followed by a sweaty cuddling together as we relaxed back into our afterglow. The shower could wait.

***

My tour through the continental United States taught me that despite the stereotypes of what Americans ate the most, their creativity knew no bounds. I never knew that so many different variations of cheese dip could be made until I went to a classic Arkansas diner. On impulse, I decided to bring Timothy along with me, on the condition that he messaged both of his parents to inform them he'd be out and about. Definitely not going out on a brunch date with an older man more than twice their son's age. Hell, even the waiter assumed I was the jackal boy's father.

Timothy and I had a good laugh about it. We enjoyed each other's company as well as conversed about various things. I let him vent about his home life, his siblings, how chaotic school could be as much as the house he lived in. Meanwhile, I listened to him and watched the young man become animated once the topic came down to what he planned to do upon graduating. If he graduated. He didn't know if he could survive the upcoming senior year. He didn't sound very motivated.

I reassured the jackal, "You can do it, kiddo. You just need to buckle down more."

"I've been held back once already in seventh grade and almost didn't make it in 11th grade last year," Timothy told me. "How...how the fuck am I going to make it to graduation?"

His self-confidence outside of the bedroom was apparent too.

So, I made a proposal to the eighteen-year-old: "Alright, tell you what? I am going to return to Arkansas by the end of your senior year. When I see you next time, you will be a high school graduate. When that happens, I'm going to invite you into my room again, then we're going to spend the rest of the weekend getting noise complaints from other hotel guests. Only when you graduate. How does that sound, Mr. Timothy Joseph Moore?"

I ended up leaving Arkansas another day later. Yet I knew I would return within a year or so, to give the jackal pup a graduation gift he would never forget.