FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Hmmm... Perhaps Horsing around? What do you-"

SMACK!

"No Horsing around... Soo... We got that out of the way. The Devil and the Centaur? A ride through hell? The Lustful Cavalier!"

"You're still stuck with the title?"

"I'm lacking inspiration. My muse is missing."

"Maybe you scared her away with all of your antics?"

"Hah, you're not wrong. Mhmmm... Go deeper. Perhaps it'll help."

Lying belly down, the legs spread, the blue eyes wandering on the unfurled vellum, Dayn grimaced and scoured the depths of his devious mind. Bard, adventurer, monster-connoisseur with an almost filled compendium in his backpack, the ashen-skinned Tiefling wondered. His pen scratched, crossed, and etched new words in a tentative to bring forth his muse or creativity. Although... She might be avoiding him as he was completely naked on a wooden stage. The curtains hid him from the crowd on the other side, but it didn't mean nobody could see his generous hairy butt, his lean stature, oh and... yes. Those big, tanned, and burly hands. The ones that were oiling his bums by going up and down in a sort of massage.

"You always say that," answered a gruff voice while the fingers explored the sweaty and hairy crevice, peeling it apart and the tail away so they could access the swollen rim in between. A caress and the Antlers-decorated Bard purred.

"Because it always helps me. Intercourses get the blood pumping. Blood goes up to your head, where all those good ideas are stored. More blood up there; the more thoughtful, attentive, and creative you are. It's as simple as that! Plus, it's a good reward," retorted Dayn, raising and waving his pen as if to prove his point before tipping it into an inkpot.

"Huh huh... You're craving for dicks," said the voice, owning that thumb pressing against the rim and... Plunging within it until the lean Tiefling moaned and bit his lips.

"It's... A beneficial trade for both of us," mumbled Dayn as his knees rubbed against the mat below. He lifted his backside, jiggling as it was, so his partner got a better angle... And allowed more room for his stiff dick to breathe... And spurt.

"I don't know how you managed to drag me into this."

"Silvertongue doesn't solely hail from my sexual prowesses," countered the Tiefling as he turned his head, that bearded face split into a grin as he glanced at Carlos.

Burly and tanned, with the lower body of a draft horse, Carlos was the typical vision one might have of a Centaur within Faerun. He had rough and bestial features, long hair, a long beard, a muscular body, and powerful hands that could crush a skull.

Yet, those hairy hands were on the Tiefling's ass, stroking and giving those buns a thorough caress that contradicted their outward mettle.

"I don't know what's worse. How you managed to swallow it without a fail or how you're planning to take it in the back?" said the Centaur, still sitting by the Tiefling, leaning so he could use all his strength against the sinewy flesh.

"I proposed to you a cunt. I can still use a bit of ma-"

"No, no thanks. We'll do it that way," answered Carlos, the oily hands up. A reaction followed by Dayn's chuckles and his spaded tail swaying playfully.

"Plus... You still owe me that favor for healing your hooves, so... Oil up! We need that ass ready and filled before my performance for the crowd is due, Bronco!"

SMACK!

That swatting hand was delicious, just as fine as the slight red hue forming on those ashen cheeks. But then, the "Bronco" stood up on his four legs despite the little wiggle-room he had on that stage.

Supposedly, Dayn was to sing and do a show for that inn's customers. Something concerning the usual lewd tales that made maidens blush and drunkards laugh. However, the old Tiefling never said when the performance would start. As for Carlos, he rolled his eyes as his "friend" again reminded him of that "Favor" he owed.

One of those favors the Bard seemed keen to collect until those old bones were so sore only magic could ease the pain. Bruised asscheeks were expected, not unforeseen.

Which wasn't different from when the brown-coated Centaur stepped forth and had his hooves cornering the Tiefling. Bottom and topside stuck in between, Dayn didn't seem afraid as he instead raised his butt and rubbed it against the Centaur's stiff cock. A pink one whose sheen had involved a very experienced throat-play, much saliva, and a bit of choked-up tears from the horned Bard. But its parts had been prepared: from the oversized tip to the distended sheath, passing over the median ring. All had been thoroughly kissed, licked, and coated the same way the Tiefling's hole had been coated, plunged, and stroked.

The moment was near, and none would back away... Especially not the smallest of the two, his pen still scribbling on the vellum while words seemed to come to him from that... Situation. His muse was back to admire the mayhem.

"Can you stop a second?" asked Carlos, exasperated as the Bard's swaying butt went from one side to another, dragging along the enormous shaft caught between the buns.

"Not at all; she's here! It all makes sense!" said Dayn, an idiotic grin plastered over his mouth while he wrote another line and nearly let go of that cock.

"We don't have all day! You said it yourself!" moaned the Centaur, his bucking pushing forth against the Tiefling's body.

"Fine... But give me a... Ohhh," began Dayn, stopping his movement... And his words as the tip pushed through his rim. The oiled rim, the wrinkled ring, opened right away and allowed the monster of a dick to push within the depths. Rather than retaining or slowing it down, it merely squeezed around the monstrous tip as it forced onward. Carlos was hung as a horse, wider than a forearm, if not more. So much so that even with a fraction of it inside, Dayn's belly bulged from the evidently veiny length... And that Bard's attitude went from a brash and cocky composure to a dumb but genuine smile. His blue eyes rolled, making the dark scleras more evident, and his tongue slid out to ooze that saliva over the graying beard.

"Y-You're tight!" groaned Carlos, bucking against the resistance the oily passage produced... yet, he enjoyed the sensation of the inner walls holding on and massaging.

"Hhh... Go on, push further! I can take it!"

"Are- -you sure?" continued the Centaur, feeling the spasm of the smaller man around his dick, like someone who was too frail to endure. Furthermore, the further he went, the more resistance he encountered.

Yet. "Y-Yeah, I- I'll adapt!"

Carlos' doubtful glance revealed how he wasn't entirely believing the writhing and gasping Tiefling were proof of his resilience. Although, he followed the order as he plunged his fat cock further. Shivers and quivers followed, next to the clenching of that tight orifice against the massive mast. Between those hooved legs, Dayn drooled all over the vellum and... His erect cock was sputtering fluids all over it, too. Whether that was precum or pure semen, it ended with drips and drops across the already written letters from the Bard.

"Hrmphh! That's- BIG!" shouted Dayn with an ecstatic grin, his nostrils dilating from the sheer shock his ass endured... The squeezes onto his prostate.

"Are you- okay?" said Carlos through huffs, his hands drifting onto his chest to grip it and massage those erect but tender nipples.

"Y-... I'm almost... There!" moaned Dayn, his fingers tightly clenched around the pen as another set of sounds echoed. Not a cry, a moan, nor a stomping hoof. No, that was the sound of lifting curtains and... An awestruck crowd.

"Oh-fuck... So... early? It should be... At nine..." stated the Bard, swallowing his saliva toward the crowd to see them. Drunkards, maidens, waiters, even the Inn's owner, who had been paying him a pretty penny for that representation, were there.

"It's nine and a half! Dimwit!" retorted the Centaur, bucking and trying to back off, only for that ass's death grip to keep it inside. "Let me go before I break something and your ass with it!"

Yet, the sole answer he heard from below his torso was that devious Bard laughing and chuckling, barely holding onto the pen, inkpot, and vellum.

"Heh... The show must... Continue!" laughed the Bard, high on needs and lust, his thoughts all-so-twisted marred by all those "good" sensations he experienced whenever that Centaur dick hit his spot... Or moved... Or throbbed... Or existed within his gaping hole.

"I-... What?" huffed Carlos, his voice low as the crowd started to murmur and some even moved from their chairs. A second more and-

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" boomed the Tiefling from below, his bellowing voice filling the tiny inn and stopping all movement. How did he manage to scream so loud? "TODAY'S PERFORMANCE IS UNIQUE! DOES YOUR EYES DECEIVE YOU? NO!"

Dayn kept shouting, still stuck between the Centaur and the stage with his ass up. Where did he find the place to accommodate the dick and those lungs? His voice seemed to come from everywhere.

"TODAY! YOU'LL BEHOLD A BRONCO GIVING HIS CAVALIER THE RIDE OF HIS LIFE!"

Carlos blinked, grimaced, and frowned. Then, he heard a whisper by his ear. Dayn's voice was there, adding up to the shout from afar.

"Follow my lead! Or else we'll be thrown out."

"Why should I?"

"Because it's not my first rodeo, love," answered the Bard, his suave laugh right by Carlos' ear until the latter shook his head.

"THE BRONCO WAS A DOCILE BEAST! AMENABLE AND STEADFAST UNTIL HIS CAVALIER WRONGED HIM! WHAT DID THAT VILE TIEFLING?!"

The crowd seemed placated... Or too surprised to react. Although the blushing faces and disgusted ones were in large amounts. Among them, Carlos's too.

"What?" he blurted, surprised as he was with his dick deep within the bard... and his shaft too pleased to lose in rigidity.

"Go on! Give them a reason!" whispered the Bard, his spell back at the Centaur's ear.

"What... Uh... Well!"

"Go on..."

"You... YOU HURT MY BACK WITH YOUR FAT ASS!" shouted Carlos, eliciting a few laughs from the crowd and an appropriate remark from a drunkard: "Hells yes! A big fuckable ass!"

"Continue, you can do it," egged on the Tiefling, his face surely split into a grin nobody could see from that angle, especially not Carlos.

"You... YOU KEEP DRAGGING ME INTO DUMB SITUATIONS! I MUST PUNISH THAT SMARTASS BEFORE IT GOES ON!"

It was time for Dayn's chuckle to come, but there was no answer. Was he satisfied? Was it enough?

Even if. Carlos puffed up his chest and grabbed his nipples as he pulled back, feeling that ass finally giving in after that shameful display. That Tiefling had dragged him into such a scene, forced him to participate.

He had enough room to pull back and leave the scene... But it also gave him an opportunity unlike any other. One to talk back at the Bard and mess with him.

A grin formed on those purled lips, revealing the Centaur's white teeth in a pure Machiavellian expression as he plunged into the Tiefling again and made him gasp. And again, when he pulled back up to the last inch before thrusting all inside the lithe slut.

Moreover, it seemed that Dayn had been right on one fact: he adapted. He adapted quite well to the size inside, and what had been a difficult penetration at the beginning had turned into a breeze. Carlos could thrust, push, ram, hammer. There was no resistance, and the Tiefling's moans were of little surprise for he had been known as a slut, through and through.

"YOU KEEP ASKING FOR ME TO BREED YOU! EVEN IN PUBLIC! YOU ARE A PERVERT THAT CAN'T KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS! A SILVER TONGUE WITH NO RESTRAINT!"

With each word, the Centaur pushed within and smacked those bums with his low-hanging testicles, painting in red the ashen skin while its owner seemed overjoyed and barely muffled his screams. It kept that blabbermouth shut unable to answer as the barrage of remarks continued. That felt good... To tell that pervert his truth. But the sex wasn't bad either as, after years of searching for a partner that could accommodate him, Carlos enjoyed the loose but clenching orifice.

His dick was squeezed and stroked, his balls battering that lifted-up ass with the might of an angry god. Although the sound resonated in front of the abashed crowd, each hit culling more whispers and remarks; the Bard didn't peep a word. But moans? Oh, he did. Moans, groans, sighs, moans again; it was a rolling procession of sounds in the room's dead silence. Peppered, of course, by their joined breaths and their thunderous intercourse.

"YOU'RE EMBODYING ALL THE SATIRES ABOUT BARDS! CAN'T! YOU! NOT! BE! HORNY?!" shouted Carlos, his backside bucking while those hips below rolled and squirmed further. His heartbeat was at its peak, his pleasure rising and about to burst.

Once more, he pulled away, listening to the hole suckling onto his shaft, with the muscles dragged by the mast's sheer size.

Before he could pull out and cry again, he... Felt it. Like a final squeeze onto his cockhead. One among many, yet so intense it stole him a faint gasp. His hands locked on his chest, his teeth clenched. Just like that, with another trap from the Bard, Dayn stole an orgasm from him.

He howled, he cried, and he shouted while he ejaculated what weeks of needs had accumulated in his churning testicles. He bucked again, eliciting more moans from the Tiefling... But at the same time, it felt so good to keep pumping while his orgasm coursed through him. His scrotum clenched at the same time it smacked that ass. His cocktip projected so much fluid it started to ooze from the gaping orifice.

"Ahh... Yes!" he gasped, his movement stalling and halting. It had been intense, powerful, so much so that he felt the need to stretch and straighten his backside as he remained on the stage and deeply impaled within Dayn. All that desire, those pent-up days, were satisfied in an instant.

But for the Bard, it had been a whole different experience.

His breath stolen by the battering against his prostate, by the assault his body had to endure; he had had no words to offer. Even his scribbling pen had drifted away from his lines, turning the delicate and flowery lines into straight bars across the vellum and drawn signs.

One thrust was a move forward; a pull would mean dragging the pen to the sides... And perhaps, it would get closer whenever the thrust narrowed on his prostate. A beautiful drawing befitting an idiotic Bard getting his punishment.

His blue eyes rolled in their orbits, drifting away from Carlos, the crowd, and his words to gaze upon something new: Pleasure.

Or perhaps was that Ecstasy as Dayn's orgasms had been manifold. Drips and drops, spurts or spouts. As expected, he entirely lost touch with time, unable to tell how long it had gone on. To the outside world, to the witnesses, he had been orgasming for straight minutes while his fingers attempted to claw at the wood, in vain. And when his "elected tormentor", picked through the circumstances, had his fill... So did Dayn.

Centaurs were hung; that was true. But profuse, that was a less known detail. One the Bard got acquainted with quickly, his magic turning from adapting to the sheer volume inside to breathing through the sweet nectar that was poured into him.

His distending belly was the first to take the brunt of the flood: from a bulging gut, it turned into a gravid one from the sheer amount of semen. Then, when his guts couldn't endure and the tenuous trickle from his oozing hole couldn't veer the flow away, the liquid had no other way but to move upward.

First came the aftertaste, right in the back of the throat... And then, the liquid poured from it, a tidal flood. A salty, delicious, and a tad acrid liquid that slathered all over his tongue before it dripped out... And formed a pool in which rested his chin and beard.

It didn't stop.

His mouth had helped; that was certain... And the crowd had been in awe from the lecherous yet spectacular display. But if having cum pouring from his depths wasn't enough, the pressure kept increasing until... it culminated with his nose.

That semen, so musky and salty, whose odor wronged the nose of the maidens, was into his nose. Sinuses, nostrils alike, all were invaded by the flood while Dayn savored the moment in its pure intensity... So much so another orgasm wracked his body, his ass reinforced its grip on the dick.

But he enjoyed it, didn't he?

Of course, he enjoyed it. His eyes rolled, and his expression was relaxed despite the obscene display. And by the end of Carlos' orgasm, when the massive Centaur pulled out without regard for the chaos he would produce, the Tiefling had even managed to lift an exhausted but present thumb.

"Are you okay?" tried to ask the Centaur, impressed but afraid for the Bard's wellbeing.

"Grbl-"

"ENCORE!"

Dayn's eyes stopped drifting and refocused on the crowd, similarly to Carlos. Within the crowd, one man had stood up with his little soldier ready to burst in his pants. He applauded, a devious grin on his face.

"NCORE!" he shouted, soon to be imitated by his fellows, who stood up with their closed fists lifted. Smiling faces and bursting pants were in accord as Dayn's eyes looked above. Cum still poured from his mouth and nose... As well as gaping and ruined ass. But those eyes... Oh, those eyes were glimmering with malice.

Hadn't he got his fill?

Not at all, as his voice boomed within the room, his spells were still active and working to fan the crowd's interest.

"After this Punishing Bronco's performance, allow me to grace your ears with my future song! The one I call, In my garden, he plants his seed!"

Carlos listened with open ears before they dropped, and he looked down to see the bemused expression on the Bard's face.

An expression he quelled with a deep thrust within that lifted hole, stopping the magical voice in a loud and resounding "Huff!"

"That's enough, Bard! Let the people enjoy the spectacle!" he shouted, mantling the Bronco's persona once more. Or was it something else?