FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Dathunk-dathunk-dathunk. Rattling and clanking. It was the Bronx EL train rolling by. Most of what cut through the boroughs was subways, but not this one. Some genius decided to elevate the train tracks instead, spanning Gun Hill Road to South Ferry. Though who would want to stop at Gun Hill Road, God only knows.

Squeezed into a little former shop turned abandoned building was an arms dealer's worshop. Above, the train. Below, a basement of ammunition and finicky trinkets and tools. The place looked like shit on the outside, smashed windows and vine choked bricks. But deeper in, things got a little cleaner. A little. Each thump of the wheels to tracks above shook off more plaster from the rotting ceilings, no amount of sweeping or dusting could fix it.

When a gunsmithing shop shakes off dust from the ceiling every fifteen minutes, and when bartering has to stop so the train can roll through, it leaves an impression. Whether he wanted it or not, his name was Ell now. No one selling illegal firearms was going to be sharing their real names, and he would be dumb as dirt if he did. Thus, Ell.

The bell attached to the front door chimed, and Ell's eyes flicked up from his work. He wiped his hands off on a rag, getting the cosmoline off his fingers before brushing back his bangs. The slight scratch of claw and heavy footfalls could only mean one customer.

"Hola. ¿Cómo andas?" Her voice had a slight strain to it, sweet but with a minor hoarseness.

It was Ivy. A repeat customer and awakened gargoyle. Her yellow eyes glimmered with a dull light in the gloom of the workshop. And a smile creased across her overbite.

Drumming up what little Spanish he'd picked up from shouting at the bodega, Ell replied. "Bien. ¿Y tú?" His words came across a bit sluggish and forced, even those few syllables.

Her long ears twitched in weak flaps. Her wings joined them, stretching out a few inches from her slouched frame. Her maw of fangs demanded a certain level of mouth-breathing, giving each second the inhale and exhale of the gargoyle. A smile played at her lips, bad as his Spanish was, she enjoyed hearing it.

"Jamming again?" Ell asked preemptively.

"Sí. Damn thing is so hard to clear too, else I'd just live with the misfiring now and then."

She hefted up her abomination of a gun, draping with vines, and a dual mag feed. He took it from her and placed it on the worktable between them. The magazines were in the vertical position, empty. Looking at her gun, it was in as good a shape as he could expect for something that runs through hundreds of rounds of fire so often.

The firing pin seemed fine. The bolt seemed okay. The barrel wasn't warped, somehow. He ran his fingers around the magazines, examining them and their unique mechanism. When the bolt was pulled back, it pulled back a set of springs that retracted the magazines from horizontal and feeding to vertical and idle.

"I could sell you a different gun? If you like .45, I have guns in the same caliber this one shoots."

She held her hand up, stopping him before he continued. She crossed her arms and shook her head, the cabby hat on her head shifting on her black hair a little. "Nope. Sentimental value. It stays."

She ran her thumbs down her suspenders. They covered nothing but the grooves cut into the stone of her skin, but even then, Ell felt himself looking away. It wasn't quite right to just stare at a lady's chest. Flat rock or no. Ivy caught his look and stiffened up, darting her eyes away.

He tried to focus on his work, troubleshooting all the usual suspects. But each time he crossed off a potential problem, he found himself looking up at the gargoyle.

To call her pretty would not be proper. She wasn't comely like a girl on the silver screen. She had a puggish, snarling nose, with a thick golden ring set to the septum. Her mouthful of fangs didn't seem too appealing to kiss. Her high set cheekbones conjured to mind memento moris, too much like a bare skull's.

Of course, these are all what lesser men saw. When Ell looked at Ivy, he saw a proud and dedicated girl. He saw a confident and playful smile. Cute snaggleteeth, a nose that deserved a kiss, and a form he wanted to hold and feel in his arms. Then again, it was bad form to hit on your clients. Besides, do girls made of stone really like regular guys?

Like a work of art, she was beautiful. But she wasn't pretty.

"Something tha' matter?" She tilted her head, perking her brow inquisitively.

Ell had been staring. He shook himself from his daydreaming and tried to save some face. "Ahem, yeah. Here."

He beckoned her over to his side of the table. The garg padded over, the shift of wood flooring groaning at the weight of her body.

"See this, here?" He tilted the gun so the light from the single bulb above could be caught the best. His finger poked at the spring in the magazine.

She got closer, her shoulder brushing his. Her wing stretched and flexed. He held his breath, wondering if it would wrap around him, curious as to what it could feel like.

"The... spring?" She asked, not understanding. "Seems all curly like a pig's tail, just as it ought to be." Her voice became a whisper, almost naturally intimate seeing as they were huddled together.

"It's bent. Have you been getting problems around, say, the middle of the magazine?"

She nodded, her face showing surprise at his good guess.

"Watch." He curled a finger and pressed down on the spring with the flat segment, pressing and pressing. He tried to hold it down like a bullet might, while also offering a peek inside. Around the halfway mark, as the spring was compressed, it was bending toward the side of the magazine. "Completely full, it's fine. Completely empty, seems fine too. But looks like it's catching right here. Some bend in the metal."

"Expensive fix?"

"Nah. Not at all."

"Good! Little low on souls." She snorted a little laugh, face rising in mirth.

"Tough out there, huh?" Ell felt his chest get warm and fuzzy, shoulder to shoulder with her. So close their lips could meet if he just leaned forward a bit. Whispering and staring at each other.

The tilt of her cabby hat shaded one of her eyes enough he almost couldn't see it. But the other distinctly twinkled while looking him over. "Well you know, never easy for us former statue girls."

"Things'll pick up. Nothing is ever set in stone."

The blush set to his cheeks just as soon as the words fled his tongue. But any fear of embarrassment was chased away when Ivy cackled and slapped him on the back. "Dios mío, tontito." Her nose ring clinked with the jangle of it against her lip as she laughed.

"What?" Ell asked, chuckling along with her.

"Don't worry about it!"

He stood up from leaning over her gun, and she turned her back to the table to face him. She was shorter than him by a bit, easily a head or more.

"What's that mean?"

She shrugged, playing things off. "What? It's nothing. Little joke name."

"Oh, it's a name, eh? Ell not good enough?" Feeling a surge of confidence, or perhaps just maddened by that feeling of sensual and emotional longing that burdened his chest, Ell put his hand past her and to the table. He locked her in with his body, putting his height around her. The intimacy of their closeness and the shared, buzzing mirth, it was palpable.

His heart felt heavy with a sort of warm honey, pounding in chest as he tried to read her body language. Was she thinking just what he was? Was he reading into the spread of her lips too much? Was that glimmer in her eye just wishful thinking?

Ell didn't care. He closed his eyes, slid his other arm around her shoulders, and pressed his lips to hers.

"Mmmff!" An immediate sound of protest. His confidence wavered just a second. Until he felt her arms squeeze across his middle back. The touch of her lips was cool. Not cold, but not warm. Like stone that had just had someone leaning on it.

Her throat croaked with wavering, soft sounds of what seemed like protest at first. Confusion? Nervousness? Ivy squeezed tighter around him, the touch of the vines on her forearms digging into his back as she held on for dear life. Not that her gunsmith would know, but she was dizzy. Hard to keep on your feet when having your first kiss after all.

When he needed breath, seeing as he was holding stock still with adrenaline the whole time, Ell peeled off. He looked down at Ivy with eyes just as wide and surprised as hers were. The two panted at each other for a few seconds, before she grabbed at the placket of his shirt and pulled him back down.

His hand went to her thin side, his thumb rubbing over her exposed hip and tummy, while his fingers clutched her lower back. Now he was the one making little moans, feeling her tongue press to his lips. She found a stride, assertively entwining her tongue to his, expressing all her pent up passion with her lips.

The feel of her body was cool like her mouth. Her body was soft and firm. But not like flesh and muscle and fat. Firm like something more earthy, sensible seeing as she was made of stone. His hands traveled up and down her body, feeling all that made her, 'her'. His fingertips glided against the smooth stone, and he gave his silent thanks to whoever carved such a beauty.

Up to his shoulders his fingers played, and then down to the waist of her baggy trousers. Her own exploring hands weren't idle either. They didn't just wrap around the middle of his back. She wanted to feel every part of him too. She lay a hold to one of his cheeks, feeling his smooth and warm skin in her palm. Her other hand grabbed and cupped his butt, pulling him closer to her and making him perk up in surprise. The gargoyle had to be extra careful not to poke an eye out or pierce his clothes with her claws, so each of her movements came with slow and artful grace to them.

Ell's mind buzzed, feeling himself stiffen in his pants from the excitement and closeness they were sharing. He mimicked her earlier gesture and affectionately cupped her cheek, playing with the long lock of black hair that hung from under her cap. He removed it, sweeping back the hair behind her ear and watching her eyes flutter with the feeling of having her hair brushed.

When their kissing broke again, Ivy leaned further against the table. She looked to the tinkerer trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest with an expression half-lewd and half-uncertain. She shrugged her shoulders up and slipped her hand under her left suspender. With a single move it flopped off her. She repeated it with its twin, and her trousers sagged down past her hips to her thin, stony thighs.

Her breathing got hard and uneven. Ell didn't look down yet, though his dick begged him to. Instead, he groped her chest. There was nothing there, but he did it anyway just to see her shift and twist and moan. He rubbed his palms to her belly and breasts, groping the flatness there.

"A-ah! Hnn," Ivy could only make passionate little sounds, her hips rocking this way and that as the feeling of being handled so salaciously coursed through her. She lifted her arms up, putting her hands behind her head. Ell got a look at her hairy underarms, fluffy with a bit of the same straight black hair as was atop her head.

Something about seeing her raw and natural form got him elated. He dived for her chest, smooching her midsection in dedicated kisses. But each one drew him further down toward her waist. First he leaned, then he knelt, until his lips were just above her mons. He could feel her tremble as he got lower, until his mouth was parallel with her exposed box.

Just like her underarms, she had a bit of bush. It was thin enough he could clearly see all of her splendid flower, but scraggly enough he couldn't deny it. Dense in its dark color, black pubic hair wreathed her pussy and asshole both. She lifted a leg up and with a shifty precariousness to her expression, put it on his shoulder.

Her nethers, now spread just a bit, got him a full view at her lower half. The bushy tangle of her dark pubic hair playing against the greyish tone of her labia, with the exciting hint of pink within, begged for a tongue to greet it. Her pucker likewise faded from the grey of her skin to a more internal pink, black hairs circling it.

Her scent was light and earthy. It reminded Ell of the city park after a rain. With her arousal came the warm and pleasant fragrance of petrichor.

"¿Por qué hoy? Debería haberme afeitado," she whispered. Meaningless to Ell, but he could read plenty of nervousness in her face and trembling body.

He settled all that fear with a now familiar move. He closed his eyes and kissed. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her labia and clit, kissing her box. The tickle of her pubes to his mouth, soft and inviting, encouraged his tongue to lash out and slide across her cunt. What really inspired him to drive forward was the sharp inhales she took upon feeling his warm tongue.

Ell, unskilled and novice, did his best. He was on the same level of experience as Ivy, that is to say, none. Clumsily but passionately he ate her out, devoting his licking and kissing to her pussy with the energy of the throbbing need between his legs as a guide. Though, her grabbing his head and running her claws through his hair helped.

As he kept going, he felt soreness rise in his mouth, but determination bit back the weakness of his muscles. He needed to hear more of that Spanish gargoyle panting, moaning. And she was. Uncertain as his motions were, her virginal snatch craved each whip of his tongue. The warmth, the slickness of his spit joining the wetness of her nethers, drove her mad.

"Me voy a venir," she said with a hissing whisper from her throat, speaking down to Ell between her legs.

Probing and exploratory, he entered her passage with his tongue and she replied with a lusty cry of excitement. Her clutching at his hair begging him to pick up the pace. And he did, feeling her sex quiver at his lips and her thigh twitch on his shoulder. It was no time at all until Ivy clutched at his head, shut her thighs against his cheeks, and called out from past her clenched fangs, "me corro!"

The flash of warm, wet cyprine fluid across his tongue and chin was reward enough. He licked her clean in slow, long laps, seeking that taste and giving his tongue a rest while she wound down from her orgasm.

He stood with lightheadedness making him imbalanced. And he hardly had a second to rest. He hadn't said a peep about it, nor reached down for himself, but he was twitching and hard. Pre-spunk dampened his boxers and his cock bulged against his zipper.

Ivy was eager not just to feel what a dick was like, but also to return the favor to Ell, and she deftly undid his pants. His belt was unlatched with a snap of leather, and his button undone with a bit of fiddling. They didn't exchange any words, but glances and panting served as their communication.

A longing, needy stare was shared between the two as she finally got his phallus free. She held its heft in her palm, feeling the slight give it had even with the stiffness. It had life, warmth, thickness. And a reddened glans swollen with arousal.

He held her by the shoulders, fingers gracing over the IV carved to her back right shoulder blade, tracing the grooves with his tips as he let her take the reins. Each long and slow pump of her hand gave her more certainty in her actions. She watched closely the subtle changes on his face for what felt best.

Aiming his dick at her slick pussy, it was easy to lube him up. Between her cunt-honey and his pre-jizz, her hand was gliding across his length. She was deadly careful with the claws, keeping a firm but reserved grip around him, stroking him off toward her with her palm on his underside. She sped up in increments, following his increasingly labored breathing, encouraged by his nodding and the kisses at her neck and cheek he left her.

The feeling of another hand on his prick other than his own was exciting enough. For it to be Ivy's was a gift. Being so deliciously close to the hairy pussy he'd just worshipped, and now being worked toward an orgasm against it, Ell was on cloud-nine. Her wings spread out in a long, fanned out span, and closed around him like a cloak. She pulled him closer and closer until they were practically chest to chest.

"Do you want to cum for me?" She asked in a seductive tone, the twang of her Spanish accent tickling Ell's senses and sending shivers up his spine.

She pumped his cock faster, amping up her handjob for the finale. "You wanna cum on my pussy?"

With her free arm she wrapped around his shoulders and forced him into a tongue kiss, feeling him moan into her mouth as spurts of hot jizz shot across her bare cunt. The human's sticky seed spurted on her stony thighs, and the gargoyle felt her skin prickle with a foreign tingle at the feeling of being lusted after.

The lively twitches of his dick in her hand didn't stop until every droplet was drained from him. With one final squeezing pull, she let him go. A sleepiness fell over Ell's eyes, contentment in his splendorous orgasm.

The tremble of naughtiness filled them both, an almost innocent elation at their shared experience. They didn't speak for awhile, first just smiling and snickering at each other like dorks for awhile. After a bit, they both redressed, feeling strange and sore and lovely in new places.

"Wanna come to my place? I made pollo al ajillo y plátanos."

"I don't know what that is, but yes."

With a warm smile, she forgot all about her gun. He did too, lacing an arm around her back and below her wings. The two walked out together, a mutual feeling of pleasant surprise and romantic static clouding their thoughts.