FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Judging by how hard he still was when he woke up to his alarm, the prior day's exertions hadn't sated his libido. A slight twinge of soreness in his hips eased after a series of light stretches.

His cock, however, stayed quite stiff.

Relieving himself barely helped, especially when he jumped in the shower. It throbbed under the warm water. Twitched when he remembered Dez's touch or voice or scent. He wondered how she tasted, how she'd feel when he was balls-deep in her, whether she'd like to shower with him and help with his arousal.

"Fuck," he groaned, wrapping a hand around his cock. He couldn't remember ever being this hard the next day, as if he hadn't gotten off at all. Granted, he'd only gotten a tease of her tight grip, hotter even than the water cascading off his back, her svelte figure captivating him even before she'd started rubbing on him...

It took effort to pull his hand away before he started stroking in earnest. His hand wouldn't compare to the memory of her. Besides, it wouldn't be long before he saw her again. He finished washing, rinsed off, reached to turn off the water—and considered his still-hard shaft as it bobbed with his heartbeat.

"Okay," he murmured to psych himself up. "Plan B, then. You asked for it." A deep breath, another.

He turned the water to its coldest setting.

Hopefully, choking back a shout hadn't hurt his throat. Apparently, in some places, this was what you were supposed to do. Hot, then cold. Good for the pores. He hated it. He hated every moment of it. So did his cock. Even once it was all but shriveled in defeat he still kept the water on, determined to show it who was boss. Dez could warm it up later; when that thought didn't stir a reaction, he shut off the water.

A moment later, the water was back on, set to warm, though he kept it below the knees. No sense letting his feet go numb to spite his crotch.

Once he was dried, lotioned, and deodorized, he checked his phone. Two new messages.

One was from Dez, which he almost clicked on before seeing the other one. Ailani usually texted early if there was work. His heart hated to make Dez wait; but, his strong attachment to a roof, running water, and food reminded him that a paycheck was a paycheck. He started to read. Nearly dropped his phone. Stifled a whoop. Took a more careful look.

"Hey Ewan," it read, "good news for you, I got approval from the higher-ups to bring you on regular shifts! Comes with a raise, too. A few projects might be in the pipeline if things shake out right. Do you have time to come in for half an hour?"

He did, and replied as such. The timing left him some room for breakfast and a brisk walk. Dez sent her congratulations and said she'd see him at the office; he wasn't sure how that would look, but then, they were just colleagues of a sort, weren't they? Kindred spirits planning on further research into human-Pokémon interaction. Rigorous study. Cultural exchange. In-depth, hands-on, and repeated.

For science.

He hoped there wasn't paperwork for that.

---

"So, that's the gist of what you'd be doing for the next couple months, starting the week after next" Ailani said, wrapping up her run-down of the responsibilities. "Any questions?"

"None so far," he said. "I hope it's not too much to say I'm just looking forward to getting started."

She flashed him a thumbs-up. "That's what I like to hear. So! If you don't mind filling those out—why they need half of them, I don't know."

"I'm sure there's a good reason. Somehow. Somewhere." He picked up a stylus and the tablet. He'd already told her about the afternoon work, so he wouldn't be able to start on the training she'd mentioned. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You're paid for the full hour, don't stress it," she said, grinning. "See you when you're done!"

He beelined to the nearest conference room and texted Dez the number of the office. All that was left was to start on the various bits of information that they apparently didn't already have, or needed again, or whatever a trans-region employer got saddled with when hiring someone.

A few minutes and a third of the forms later, he heard her coming. "Hey, Dez. Good morning."

"Good morning," she echoed, padding up beside him. Her hand rested gently on his side, then down to his thigh. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"Not at all. Good to see you." He held her hand for a moment. "I just need to finish this, and then I'm free for a few minutes before I need to catch the bus. So what else brings you here?"

She tilted her head, and smiled. "Just you."

"Oh." He felt a flutter in his chest. "I wish we had enough time to grab lunch. How about fried rice for dinner, and malasadas for dessert?"

"That sounds delicious." Her tail swayed behind her. "Can I at least keep you company until you have to leave?"

"Absolutely, though there's nothing interesting about the paperwork."

"Good thing I'm not here for the paperwork." Dez hummed, and reached up to the arm of the chair. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to do. It probably shouldn't have been a surprise that her choice was hopping up into his lap.

"Well, hi," he said, as she nestled her back against him, weaved her tail under the raised backrest to go around his waist, and pulled his left arm to her front.

She tilted her head to glance up at him, amusement dancing in those lovely eyes. "Don't let me get in your way. You know I like it up higher."

It was nice and comfortable, he had to admit. Just had to keep himself from remembering the last time she'd been atop him. "I'd have thought you'd pick the table for that. Not that I'm complaining." He picked up his stylus and found where he'd left off.

"Mm, I thought about it." She seemed content to watch him fill in circles for a few moments. "This needs to be done first, I imagine."

"First? Before what?"

He felt her laugh more than he heard it. "Before you get stuck staring at me."

"Hey, now..." But was she really wrong? Damn. "... I'd get at least two more papers done before I got too distracted."

She stroked his arm, still mirthful. She didn't rise to test that theory. Her presence became serene, a welcome pressure suffusing him with warmth. He ended up leaning his head against hers while he worked.

He didn't register the footsteps until they were at the door; his heart stuttered in his chest, not sure how they would look or how to explain. Dez's head had already shifted as the sound had drawn closer. She patted his arm, and while she didn't say anything, he felt enough reassurance from her calm poise that he didn't reflexively try and jump away or anything else ridiculous when the knock came at the doorway.

"Hey," Ailani said, "just checking in—aww! You two look so cute."

He tried not to blush, and probably failed. At least it'd look like a reaction to being called cute, he reasoned.

"Hi! I'm trying not to distract him with questions about Pokéanthropology," Dez said.

"He's a good one for that, I know that... well, that it exists?" Ailani shrugged, then leaned over to look at the tablet screen. "Oh, wow, almost done. See? This is why I pushed to hire you. Diligent worker."

Another justification for blushing. "Just the last few packets, I think," he said, swiveling his chair so he didn't have to crane his neck. Thankfully he and Dez had kept their hands above the waist. "I'll drop them off with you—if I'm allowed to get up."

"Hmm." Dez reached back to poke his chest. "Comfortable."

Ailani's expression turned solemn. "I don't know, Ewan, Pokémon gravity is even more inescapable than regular gravity. This might be your life now."

"Alas." He pushed them a few centimeters backwards. "At least I have wheels?"

"See? Silver linings!" She gestured at the tablet. "I'm about to be in a call, so just roll on by and slip that under the door when you're done. Text if something breaks. The usual!" Her eyes landed on Dez again. "Oh, they might ask for you..."

Dez stilled for a moment before shaking her head. "I'll be out getting supplies and maybe some other errands—so I suppose Ewan won't be trapped for too much longer. Give them my regards, or text me if it's urgent?"

Ailani bit her lip, and then gave a dark little chuckle. "You know, I think they need to learn to schedule you in advance if they want your time. Good on you. I'll catch you both later!"

They both waved, and Ewan swiveled back to face the table. He hadn't been holding his breath. He still let one out anyway.

"I may have let slip that I was feeling lonely, in the social sense, when I talked to her a couple days ago," Dez murmured, her fingers trailing over his. "No need to worry."

He could have sworn there was a note of concern in the last words, something beyond reassurance of his anxiety. Gut instinct hadn't led him astray yet. "I'm not worried about being seen with you in general, or even together..." Unfortunately, the gut wasn't the best at words. "Well, I mean, I'd be very concerned if anyone gets the wrong idea, that I'm taking advantage of you or that you're... I don't know. I don't want anyone harassing you, or us. But I don't think this is wrong. At all." He took in a breath and swallowed despite his dry-ish mouth. "Does that make sense?"

She squeezed his hand and settled back on him. "It does. But. How often do you see people carrying Pokémon, or holding them, or otherwise being close like this?"

The more he thought about it, the more it blew his mind. Of course nobody would think twice about it. They'd see a cute, endearing scene, just as Ailani had. "Huh. Yeah."

"I understand your worry. It would be harder for you than it would for me, if someone 'made a fuss' over it."

He shrugged, realized he'd started rubbing her belly, and kept going. "Maybe. Probably. Didn't want to be selfish."

"You're not," she murmured, and arched a little to press herself deeper in his embrace. "Quite giving, I would say. Attentive." She chuckled. "And I'm distracting you from your work."

He shrugged again, finding it harder to care about that... though, he had to. He still kept his left hand moving as he ticked boxes with the right. She purred—there really was no other way to describe it, 'vibrating hum' just didn't convey the same experience. It reminded him of the way she'd felt in their cuddle the previous night, and of course, what they'd done to get there...

He had been doing so well in steering those thoughts away. The subject of those thoughts was now on his lap, with only one or two pieces of fabric separating them. Each breath filled his nose with the subtle, slightly spicy scent of her. He tried not to squirm in his seat as his body reacted despite himself.

It didn't take long for her to notice. "Everything okay?"

"You're fine, just..." Shimmying about without threatening her seat wasn't doing the trick. Best to just be honest, then, nothing she hadn't already seen. And more. "Readjusting."

Her head tilted to let her gaze follow his hand between his legs. He freed his partly hard cock from a fold of his pant leg and brought it up to the side. Sort of. There was no way to comfortably tent one's pants, less so with someone sitting on them, as the struggle went.

"Ah," she murmured, and made to reach for him before hesitating. "I wouldn't know how to help without, how to say. Making it more difficult?"

The thought of her trying definitely got more blood flowing. "I shouldn't be doing anything, you know, inappropriate at work."

Dez tilted her head and regarded him. "Sitting together is inappropriate? No, you mean... showing arousal?"

"That, acting on it, just... anything to do with sex."

"I understand." She leaned back again, and there wasn't enough room on his lap to keep things separated. "I'll be good. Keep working."

Focus, just needed to focus. He finished another page of the forms. Every beat of his pulse thrummed through his erection. Being trapped kept it from fully hardening, which almost made it worse. The work of the cold shower was all but undone; if he was at home, at least he could have unzipped to relieve the pressure. Then again, with Dez there, she'd probably start working him over, and then before too long she'd be riding him in the chair or bent over the table...

Her gaze was equal parts sympathetic and sly as he groaned. There was enough contact that she could certainly feel him tensing. To his relief and dismay, she moved forward, leaving the air seemingly chilled without her warmth. Then she slid down between his parted legs, pushing them a little further aside. For a moment, he thought she was going to reach for the tent. He wasn't sure he had the strength of will to resist.

She didn't, though her eyes did linger for a long moment. "I need to go to the bathroom," she said, finally tearing her gaze back up to his face. A sly smirk was on her lips, of course. "I'll meet you out front when you're done, and walk you to the bus?"

He let out a breath. "Sounds like a plan," he said. A wonder that his voice stayed steady. "Should be another... five minutes at most?"

Her smirk spread to a grin. "I won't have to wait long, then." She patted his knee, eyes slipping down before going back up. He was trying not to do the same with that borderline-hypnotic pattern. "I'll see you soon."

"Count on it," he said, smiling back and touching her hand before she sauntered to the door. One last wave, and then she padded down the hall and out of sight.

Her lingering scent and memory of her warmth gnawed at his attention even as he readjusted himself again to let things relax. The reprieve lasted until he brushed his pants off, or started to. A small damp spot—right where she'd been sitting. Maybe she had to stop in one of the restrooms to clean herself before she started dripping down her thighs...

"Arceus," he breathed, and stood; the tent was obvious, now, but he needed to move. The far side of the table had neutral air and plenty of space for him to start stretching. His thoughts still raced. Or rather, his imagination was eager to spin up various fantasies. He finished the paperwork in what felt like record time. When he was presentable enough to walk, he made his way to the nearest bathroom.

Dez wasn't there, of course, and there was no sign of her in the halls. He splashed some water on his face, relieved himself, washed his hands, splashed more water, and took some deep breaths. It was enough.

Once he'd dropped off the tablet and grabbed a snack from the break room, Dez met him out front. They talked about the malasada menu, of all things, starting a basket of their favorite flavors.

"I get the sense that you like sour," he remarked after lime-glazed made her third and final suggestion. You couldn't stop at just one, after all.

"Maybe a little." She slipped her hand into his. "I'd try some of yours, though. Spicy is an interesting mix with the sweetness."

"Spicy is very good." He was trying to keep the region-famous caramelized pepper blend out of his mind, lest he be hungry for his entire shift. "I might finish the basket with the black tea one."

Until that moment, he wouldn't have known how to imagine her wrinkling her nose. He tried not to laugh.

Something in his face must have given him away, because she looked up, and then huffed a sigh. "I tried one once. Too... prickly."

"Prickly? No, no, it's fair," he said when she looked away. "Different tastes, is all. I can skip it."

She squeezed his hand. "You don't have to give up your choice for my tastes, Ewan." Little furrows reappeared at the base of her snout. "Just eat something else first before you kiss me."

His heart thrummed a pleasant rhythm. "I'm just happy to hear that kissing you is still on the menu."

Dez looked back up at him, the creases fading as a smile took over. "We need to practice until we find good ways to do it, don't we? At least," she murmured, taking a sultry tone under the translation, "until we get hungry for more."

"I already am." He ran a thumb over her fingers and licked his lips. "Shame I have to work."

She squeezed his hand. "What is the saying? Work, and then play?"

"Pretty much. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"True," she said, eyeing the handful of people at the bus stop and gently tugging him to a halt, then down on one knee to roughly eye level. "At least we both have something to look forward to." And with that, she slipped in for a hug.

Or rather, a surprisingly sensual embrace, the kind that left no space between their bodies and no illusions as to what they'd be doing if we were in private. A soft churr rolled in her chest when his arms enclosed her slender frame. Slim, but not at all fragile. If anything, she could probably snap him in half. Not that she would. The thought of her taking charge, though, that sent his mind down some interesting roads.

Not at all helped by the warm breath and languid lick along the edge of his ear.

"Oh, whoa," he gasped, hoping he wouldn't have to feign a leg cramp until the surge of enthusiasm, so to speak, settled. The smart thing to do would have been to breathe deep, distract himself, or even pull back.

Instead, he leaned in and nibbled her neck, just underneath the translator. "And I was already looking forward to tonight."

Being so close, he felt the shiver as it went down her body and then back up. She was the one who took in a deep breath, and then with another purr, slipped backwards almost out of his grasp—almost. "You and me both." Her eyes danced as they locked onto his. "I promise to have my translator charger this time. How far is it from the restaurant to your place?"

He'd looked up routes the night before. "Ten minutes, give or take?"

"About the same from my place to yours," she said. "Text me when you pick up the food?"

"Will do." A thought occurred, and he tried to tease it out. Something to do with the translator.

Dez tilted her head, studying his face, but her head turned before she could say anything. A bus had pulled out of the intersection up the road, signal flashing as it changed to the curbside lane. "Is that yours?"

"No. Well, yes," he said, glancing at his watch. He hadn't accounted for Dez when he'd planned the walk to the bus stop. "But I can catch the next one and still have time." Probably. He'd worked the gig before, and stragglers tended to get the bottom of the barrel tasks.

Dez patted him on the arm, voice rising over the hum of the electric engine. "Go, Ewan. I'll see you for dinner."

"Looking forward to it." He stood, still not sure what he wanted to ask. At least he knew the subject. Might as well. "Remind me to ask you about the translator, if I forget."

"I will," she said, raising a hand perhaps unconsciously to the band around her neck.

He took a window seat in time to wave at her in passing. He had a job now, why didn't he call off the gig? He could jump off the bus, take her hand, and go home to get a head start on their evening. The reasonable side of him, alas, made a compelling argument for extra money—especially with a date—and against burning any bridges.

It was a nice fantasy, though.

A guy in travel clothes who'd gotten on with him frowned out the window, then looked at him. "Hey. Weird question, but, that Salazzle was talking to you?"

"Yeah? She has a translator." Ewan wondered how much he, or anyone else, had listened in. At least he didn't get any weird or accusatory vibes off him, even when his eyes widened.

"Oh man! I gotta ask where you got it."

"I didn't," he said, "she did. She's not mine."

The guy held up his hands in apology, though his enthusiasm didn't wane in the slightest. "But you know her?"

"We're coworkers." And technically, it was true.

"That is so awesome. Sorry, I had to ask. I used to be a trainer, still live with my best two teammates. And we talk, or at least we try. Get along with the basics. But sometimes... it's probably silly, but I'd love to hear words, you know? Not just hope I'm guessing the right sounds or what have you. I know we can get the meaning across, but... You know what I mean?"

"Communication is important," Ewan said, easing into the conversation a bit. At least it'd be a distraction on the ride. "Especially when you can get on the same page." He shared the company's info, even pulling up the page from his own search history.

The guy's grin was wide and heartfelt. "I owe you, man. Hey, do you know if it works the other way around?"

"Like us talking to Pokémon? I think they're working on that. It'd be just as huge."

The wheels in his head, meanwhile, kept turning over the thought he'd had earlier.

---

Hours later, the set-up was done and he hopped on a different line that would take him to the restaurant. He'd worked up a sheen of sweat that spotted his shirt in places. Nothing grimy, at least. He put in the order, including a couple egg rolls he could eat on the walk, and ended up in a moderately flirtatious text exchange with Dez.

He didn't make an innuendo out of "getting off" of work, but it was a close thing.

The exchange paused when he picked up the food and she set out. Typing while walking, apparently, wasn't easy for her.

No matter. The wait was nearly over. Thankfully he did not burn his tongue on either egg roll—he might get a chance to use it, after all. He was definitely hungry for more than just food.

He was almost inside his apartment when he glanced up the way and saw her turning the corner. "Perfect timing," he said, holding the door open for her before setting the bag on the table. "Need anything to drink?"

"Water, please," Dez said, and spotted the hand towel he'd set out for her feet. "Ah, you are a gentleman. Work went well?"

"Well enough, I was able to avoid crawling around under a stage since I was early," he said. She followed him into the kitchen and washed her hands while he poured water. "Mind if I freshen up before we eat? Oh, and will a glass work? I should have asked earlier, I'm sorry."

She chuckled. "It's fine, Ewan. Freshen up what?"

"Oh. Clean myself, change into less sweaty clothes. Won't take but a few minutes."

"Of course, of course. I can unpack the food. Although," she murmured, eyeing him up and down, "if you're warm, wouldn't less clothing help?"

He grinned and handed her a couple bowls and forks. "I can skip the shirt. Be back in a minute."

He stripped down in the bathroom. A quick rub-down with a damp washcloth and a touch-up on his deodorant was all he needed. All he put on was a pair of comfortable night shorts—which might not stay on long. Dez had set up their plates next to each other and opened the still-hot takeout containers. She turned and eyed him up and down, a quiet purr carrying through the air.

"Go ahead and have a seat," he said, moving to pull out a chair for her. "Unless you want to sit on my lap again?"

"That's a good idea," she replied, turning her gaze to the food. "I was actually going to ask... no, it's improper."

"Now you've got me curious."

She looked back at him, then at the chair. "I was going to ask if I could sit on the table. But, isn't that considered rude?"

A week ago he'd might have said so. Technically, it still was. He firmly shoved aside any impulse thoughts about it being unclean—utterly ridiculous given her borderline fastidious habits, and not worth considering further. No, he had no problem with her sitting there. That just left a growing smile on his face as he realized that, aside from accommodating her preference for perching, he'd get a very nice, up-close view.

She was studying his face, and chuckled impishly.

"That obvious what I'm thinking?" he said, adjusting the chair.

"I did suggest you not wear a shirt. It's only fair I return the favor."

He sat and ran a hand down her arm. "Lap or table, take your pick. I won't complain."

She rubbed his knee with a warm hand, and leaned in, eyes glinting. "I'll choose the table for now... and I might find myself wanting to move, if we want to enjoy more than the sights."

"I can't object to that, either," he murmured, licking his lips. "Need a hand up?"

"Please." She easily stepped up on the chair's base and into his arms, though he suspected pressing up against him and nuzzling his neck was something of a scenic route. No, he wasn't going to complain in the slightest. He kissed her head, her neck in return, his body already responding to her closeness, her heat. Before he could start exploring her again with his hands, she pivoted, rising and sliding onto the table's edge until her tail stretched and anchored her. She folded one leg under her and kept the other foot planted on his thigh—leaving her able to pull her bowl over, and also very much on display for him.

"You are gorgeous."

Her violet eyes met his, and she purred, toes gently kneading his muscle through his shorts. A hand's length to the left... he wasn't into feet like one ex had been, true. This, though? He wouldn't say no if she moved it closer. Any touch of hers was welcome, really.

The only thing competing with her allure was the growl in his belly. Dez pulled the takeout container closer, letting them both scoop a dish of the distractingly delicious rice-and-veggie mix. A few bites took the renewed edge from his hunger. He watched her scoop up what, to him, was half a mouthful, then carefully close her beak-like muzzle over the with a quiet click. Her jaw worked in subtle motions before she swallowed. He wondered what chewing involved for her—up until she noticed him looking, curled her tongue under the curve of the fork, and made a sensuous show of sliding it back out of her closed mouth.

That, followed by her other hand trailing down her front and side, had him thoroughly distracted.

"You could touch me, not just look," she murmured, patting her thigh.

He found his eyes sliding to her loins; her tail was back and behind her, angling her hips so he couldn't properly see, which was fairly enticing all on its own. "The thought had crossed my mind." He took another bite of rice first, chewing while he ran his hand up the leg she'd planted on his lap. Slender as she was overall, the only part of her that might have more muscle than her thighs was her tail. No rush, yet, so he just rubbed and slowly explored while his eyes drank her in.

She, meanwhile, had leaned over enough to look over the table's edge and see his own body, and probably the outline of his half-mast cock in his shorts. The suspicion was confirmed when he tucked the loose parts of the pant leg under him so no folds of fabric could obscure it. His reward was a throaty purr and a caress over his shoulder and arm.

There was no one big move to escalate things, just little touches and adjustments and motions until their bowls, some food remaining, were only paid heed because they were in the way. Dez huffed when he brought his second hand in to tease near her loins. It didn't take much of that until she moved the bowls aside and brought her tail under her, over the edge, right between his legs. Very deliberately pressing against him. And now, she was fully on display.

So, he placed his thumbs alongside her folds and spread her for his view. She was glistening, not quite dripping but clearly aroused, and the heat of her scent grew another degree. He wanted to touch, wanted to taste; he settled on the former, stroking a finger along her cleft. The sinuous length of her tail trembled and started to rub his quickly stiffening member. Especially when he found a hot ring of muscle that started to part before his probing.

This close, he could hear her breathless sotto voce clearly under the translation that followed. "More."

The angle changed and let his finger slip in up to the first knuckle. She tensed, not just around the digit but her thigh under his other hand, the tail against his groin. Her other foot found his leg, then slipped to the chair, nearly dropping him onto his lap. He shifted his grip to catch her, not that she looked at all off-balance.

"Couch is comfier," he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to her collar.

She hissed in his ear. "Take me there," the collar said, not that he'd have guessed any different. His hands were already moving. A chuckle, and then, "And take off your pants."

Lifting her was just as easy as several days ago. The only complication was figuring out when to disrobe, which turned out to be easier once she could brace herself on the armrest and free up his hand—hers was already under the front, tugging it over his length while he shimmied the rest down his legs until he could kick it aside. He thanked past him for putting a towel down, and he sat, Dez easily straddling him and rubbing herself against the underside of his cock.

He realized his heart was beating quite the tempo in his chest. Was he anxious after all? Moving too quickly? Maybe... but not in a bad way. There was only the excitement, the thrill of this exotic intimacy, a basic carnal need that, no matter their differences, they both clearly shared.

His lips parted, breath rushing out, as her hand gently gripped his length. Those fingers explored from his foreskin to the base, then down to his balls, cradling them as if in apology for the near-miss earlier. Another slide of his finger caught a droplet of her slickness, and he couldn't resist pressing in again, this time with a mind to do more than explore.

"I want to be in you," he murmured, kissing along her neck, her hips and his both trying to mimic that carnal rhythm already.

She took a grip on his shaft, and her thighs tensed as she rose up. Heat kissed his skin as she ground against him, their fingers spreading her natural lube over his length. Would it be enough? He reached over to the bottle of lube he'd set out and popped the cap. Her frown only lasted until she felt the stuff, and with an approving purr she helped him get ready.

Then she rose up and guided him in. He tried to support her as best he could, the tight ring of her entrance slipping over him once, twice, her hips angling as he thought maybe they could try a different...

Sudden heat gripped the end of his length. His low groan met her pleased hiss as she lowered herself a little further, squirming and rocking back and forth as she adjusted to him. Just as he got used to the sensation, she dropped further, slowly sliding down, taking more and more of him. Her hands, one still slippery, went to his shoulders and braced herself as she stopped. He definitely needed the breather to adjust, already panting and gripping her, trying not to shove to the hilt until she was ready. His own hips rose as she pulled up, trying not to let her leave, only for her to slide back down even further than before. A glance down saw more than half of him had vanished into her. It felt like so much more. The heat of her wrapped around him, her walls held him tight but not uncomfortably, even feeling like she was trying to pull him deeper rather than push him out. Not the best angle, though. Her thighs tensed again, and he could feel the echo of a squeeze around his cock. She made a fluid, languid bounce on him, once, twice, then dropped even more until he wasn't sure he could get any deeper...

"Fuck," he gasped, grasping her hips, fingers digging in. "Dez, you, this is... fuck."

She giggled, and licked his neck. "This feels... is so much better than that fake toy. Mm."

There was enough thought left in him to readjust his posture for comfort, bracing his feet better on the floor and moving his hips until the angle felt less awkward. He leaned forward and kissed her neck, wanting to feel more of her, touch her, to let their bodies get even closer if they could, to let this last the whole night.

"Ready, Ewan?"

Then again. He also had a need, a growing tension in his core demanding he move, grind her, rut her, whatever would bring him closer to release.

"Ride me, Dez," he whispered near her ear, or as close as he figured her ear might be. It didn't matter. She started to rise and fall, slow and smooth motions at first, and he did his best to move along with her. Her tongue made a slow stroke over the back of his neck, and he kissed wherever he could reach. Her body was so very warm against his, though he didn't feel like he could overheat. No, he just wanted to sink further into her, to let that heat melt away his inhibitions until he was just there, sharing in the very heights of pleasure...

Dez's arms wrapped around his shoulders, supporting enough of her weight to let her ride him. One of his hands trailed down her tail, and as it squirmed in his grip, he tugged on it. Her groan might have given him concern if she hadn't then growled and ground her hips against his; he put some strength into it, lifting as much as he could, feeling her clenching around him as whatever they were doing seemed to stimulate her.

"Hallway," she said, out of nowhere, and then huffed in annoyance. "Sorry."

He slowed, or would have if she hadn't given a particularly strong bounce on his lap. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," she said, her breath hot on his skin. A squeeze around his cock. "Don't stop."

Odd, but who was he to argue? He raised his hips to meet her riding, legs twitching as pleasure raced through him. He didn't care how wrong others might think this was, not if it could feel this good, not if she was gasping and gripping him with just as much urgency as he felt. This was no animal, no unthinking, unintelligent creature. Not that their thoughts were going to anything other than seeking more pleasure between them.

He tried to lean forward more, to give himself more leverage, right as she lifted herself on him. Before he could correct, he felt nothing but the chill of the room-temperature air and the smooth but unsatisfying touch of her skin. Not inside her, not where he needed to be. A couple clumsy attempts didn't bring them back together right away.

"Shit." He couldn't quite reach down to aim himself back in, and sighed in relief when she could. "Oops. Just trying to..."

"One second." The overly-smooth tone of the translator contrasted with the throaty rasps and hisses he could hear of her natural speech. Blessed heat surrounded his tip again. "There."

"Good, but... I need..." He looked back at the couch, and made a decision. "Switch with me."

"Hm?" She kept a gentle hold on his cock even after he slipped out again, until his fumbling attempt to pick her up and turn them around communicated his intent. "Oh! Good," she purred, working with him until her back was to the couch and wall. The pillow helped with the latter. She straddled him again once he was kneeling on the cushion facing her. Now he could easily slip back inside, and before he could go soft, he buried himself in that sensual grip. "Yes, good, mate me, Ewan..."

Now that he had leverage, he drove himself in with far more power. A throaty growl from his lover left no doubts about her approval. Her tail cupped his balls, better than he'd imagined it, as she curled it around his leg again, this time underneath them as he half-held, half-pinned her to the couch. At first she tried bouncing on him as before. Once he got a good rhythm, once the wet, lewd sounds and the spicy, carnal musk of sex filled the air, those thick legs wrapped around his waist instead, pulling him in as much as they gripped him for support, her arms around his back and fingers digging into his skin. He didn't care that any tighter and she'd probably leave bruises. He was just as needy, squeezing her rear and bracing his other hand on the couch as he drove into her again, and again. He needed her. It was desperate, instinctual. He needed to bury himself deep, to claim her, to mate her, to throw all their differences aside in favor of the very heights of pleasure. His balls slapped her tail as he fucked her, his fingers dug in as hers did on him, he sucked in air through his nose and mouth and smelled sex, smelled her, felt their bodies meeting, the world shrinking to only the two of them.

"Close," he managed to gasp, not sure he'd ever felt this good. His stomach tensed as she squeezed around him, his need drove him forward, deeper, desperate to hilt her but unable to stop moving, stop rutting. Wordless moans in his ear told him she felt the same, moans that grew louder when he repeated his warning. Her legs flexed, pulling him in with an almost worrying amount of strength, almost, not that he cared when she wanted all of him, needed him, and he needed her, Arceus but she was hot and wet and he was just bucking his hips into her without thought, and she moaned his name as she clenched around him, or he thought she had said it, and he tried to say hers back but the tension had built in him and it almost hurt it felt so good and he slammed his hips in one last time as deep as he could manage—.

It hit. He all but crushed her against the back of the couch, every muscle pushing his hips forward to bottom out inside her hot, tight depths; something popped in his back as her locked ankles pulled him to her. His entire world exploded in white-hot ecstasy, his wordless groans muffled against the couch and her neck. His hips jerked, grinding against her, the tension leaving him in thick spurts as she hissed her approval and moaned as he filled her. He kept pushing, twitching, even as he felt himself emptied and the pleasure peaking even higher. He didn't want it to end, didn't care that he'd get oversensitive. Biology saved him, drawing down the helpless spasms until he melted into shivery relaxation in her embrace as the last of his seed trickled into her. There would be a mess, but, fuck, he had wanted that and needed that.

The afterglow clouded his head and warmed his slackening muscles, and he still felt no regrets. He'd fucked a Salazzle—no, he'd fucked Desiree. And he would again, when he could.

That was a later-Ewan decision. For the present, he reached a clumsy hand over to the other pillow, and then turned halfway to let Dez lay back while he slumped against the back of the couch. He slipped out of her on the way with a soft shlick and probably more mess. Oh well, there was a towel. She was purring—not quite like a Meowth, but close enough to communicate unmistakable contentment.

"That was... you're incredible," he said, as soon as he trusted his brain to string words together.

She giggled, and the tip of her tail made a languid stroke where it still curled around his leg. "Even better than I imagined." Her fingers traced over his shoulder, and then along his side towards his back. "I hope I wasn't too strong? Rough?"

He moved his arm and spine enough to test them. A dull ache, maybe. "Nothing broken. Not that I'd care, after how good that was. Are you good? Satisfied?"

Her tongue caressed him again. "Until we're ready for more. Hold me again?"

"Of course." He pulled her into a warm embrace, rubbing her back until she was probably the most content Pokémon he'd ever been in contact with.

That she was leaking the results of that contentment on his thigh and the towel wasn't how he'd have imagined his dating life if he'd asked himself a month ago. Hypothetical Ewan's loss. Dez was wonderful. Amazing. Sensual. Witty. Comfortable. He could go on.

He felt the hint of thirst making itself known. The aroma of fried rice was still in the air amidst the strong scent of sex. "So," he murmured, looking down at her, "finish dinner, then... talk, or do you need to go home? Or, my bed might be comfier for that 'more' you mentioned..."

A low chuckle against his chest. "A little cleanup and dinner sounds perfect. And then, I think, I want to see your bedroom."

He kissed her head, and she rose up enough to kiss him more properly. Or as best as they could manage, differing mouths still posing a challenge. They'd just have to practice, among other activities.

And this time, they had all night.