FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

"And then what happened? You said the blood was shooting out of his--!"

"Ugh, goddamn, stop," Francis moaned. "Shut the fuck up, Nolan."

Both Nolan and Paul turned to look at Francis. It was Paul's story, a harrowing tale about an IED in Afghanistan, and it had Nolan's rapt attention. Because he was a velociraptor, his ghoulish tastes went unquestioned except by Francis.

Francis, he'd been told, was too soft. How a former ranger in the US Army could be soft was anybody's guess, but if Bob Ross could be a drill instructor, then Francis could be a little soft. He could still kick an ass, as he'd demonstrated when his credentials came into drunken question by a patron not a day over twenty-one who declared himself an authority on all things rank-and-file. The two weeks off work without pay had been worth it to bloody the kid's nose and stomp his nuts into the pavement, and it quashed the rumors that Francis was too much of a pansy to have been a ranger. At least it had, because now that Nolan knew Francis was grossed out by a story about roadside gore, he'd have to get into another fight just to clear his name. At the moment, he was thinking of cold-cocking Nolan just for the hell of it.

Really, Paul hadn't wanted to tell the story in the first place. It was something nobody should have had to see, let alone suffer through, but he'd been there with the difficult honor of triage. Laughing about it a few years after the fact was just how he downplayed it. The young blood like Nolan seemed to gobble up the sickening details, and with Halloween so close and some corny decorations up here and there (along with the terrible pumpkin spice-flavored drinks that nobody was buying), it seemed oddly appropriate.

"Come on, man," Nolan said, putting his predatory eyes back on the panda bear, "finish the story. What happened to the dude who lost a leg?"

Paul saw how pale Francis was. He smiled, stood up. When Nolan stood too and started to stick out his chest in a sudden pomp, Paul condescendingly patted his shoulder. "Like my friends and I used to say jackin' off to Sears catalogs - use your imagination, kiddo. Now get back to work, those shitty pun'kin drinks ain't gonna pour 'emselves."

The bear really meant fuck off, you gross little prick, and Nolan detected that. He huffed and glanced disdainfully at Francis as if to say this is your fault, candy-ass. He strutted off to the bar, tuxedo-patterned jockstrap bobbing under the bulk and weight of his genitals.

"Thank you," Francis quietly said. "That shit hits too close to home for me."

"You coulda gotten up, walked off anytime," Paul said, talking gently rather than condescendingly. He couldn't bring himself to rag on someone else who had seen unseeable things. If anything he appreciated the camaraderie.

The Doberman smiled thinly. "You know it's not that easy. Morbid curiosity." Paul seemed to accept this without questioning it. He stood still, Francis staring into his bulging red jockstrap without really focusing on it. A beat, and then: "Did he make it?"

"Eh?"

"The kid." Francis looked up into Paul's cold blue eyes. "Did he survive?"

Paul smiled. "Yeah, he made it, gets around all right on his crutches," he lied. "Let's go get a drink or six, pal."

"From the northern bar," the dog coyly added. "Tristan pours a better drink than Nolan anyway."

Neither subtly melancholy like Francis and Paul nor flippant in his love of the disturbing like Nolan, Madison was simply at Nature Calls on ladies' night for the same reason as every other woman: she was dying for a good time. Beefy bodies smelling of musk; a funk of testosterone hanging in the air like morning fog; trance-inducing lighting and pulsing beats. That was what she was after. She was a tiger, a big orange kitty-cat with a love for bright lights and all things shiny, such as the oiled hide on the couple of dragons she'd seen.

Madison had heard from friends that Nature Calls had a notably hands-on policy. So long as the talent was down for it, you could bang whoever you wanted. Rubbers were compulsory, and that was a drag, but she could put up with using a spork if it meant access to an endless buffet of beef - especially if there was some salad-tossing going on. All the hard, sweaty asses in sinfully snug jockstraps gave her a powerful hunger for some butthole. Madison could eat ass like nobody's business, and all she needed was the right stud or five.

It was usually the dragons Madison had her eyes on. Tight, scaly asses damp with sweat and filthy with musk, all hers for the taking. Nothing quite like stuffing your snoot underneath a big, strong tail. Making a nine-foot-tall stud groan and curl his toes, that was where it at. Making him touch his toes was even better. Madison loved that more than the ass-eating, because Madison had a cock. Compared to the median prick size at Nature Calls, she was hung like a pencil, but was nine inches all that bad? Certainly not.

All Madison needed was the right dragon. Catch him coming off the stage, lure him into a VIP room, and give him the shock of a lifetime when she took off her pants. It would be great.

Madison sashayed up to the bar. All the stools were taken, and mostly by the workers on break. But men, she found, never minded when she leaned over them to call the bartender. She did exactly that now to a Doberman Pinscher sitting close to a panda bear, putting her jugs on the back of his head. They were struggling to escape from a purposefully ratty halter top in a jaundiced shade. It went well with her black jeans, the combined eight rings she had in her ears (five in one, three in the other), her lip ring, and (when she opened her mouth) the barbell going through her tongue. Anybody who got her clothes off would find more hardware, specifically a simple ring in the slack flesh along the bottom of her ballbag and door-knocker nipple piercings. Madison enjoyed the canvas that was her athletic body.

"'Scuse me, sweetie," Madison said to Francis, whom glanced at Paul and smiled in a manner both amused and bemused. "Hey you! The Dane doggy! Can I get a screwdriver over this way?"

Tristan nodded at her, big jowls flopping, and went to work on her drink. Paul turned on his bar stool, put his arm on the counter, smiled at Madison. "Ain't shy, are you?"

The tiger grinned big and toothy. Her reply was weirdly personable. "Why the fuck should I be?"

Madison was pressed so close that Francis couldn't turn his head, so instead he looked at her from the corner of his eye. She looked right back, staring with those wild orange eyes of hers. "I don't think he's saying you ought to be," the Doberman affably said.

"Yeah," Paul chuckled. "Just remarkin' on it, kid. S'yer name?"

The panda stuck out a meaty paw. Madison mannishly squeezed and shook it. "Madison," she answered. "Call me Maddie, and I'm clawing your nuts off. We cool?"

Francis and Paul pressed their thighs a little tighter together. "We're cool," the Doberman said, shifting aside when Tristan handed over her drink. "Me and Paul here, we're just a couple of dancers."

She took a good look at both of them. The Dobie wasn't bad, but the bear was better. He was taller, older, talked with that kind of rough cadence that didn't seem to give much of a shit about anything. She loved that breezy attitude almost as much as she liked his thick, round ass, which was the primary reason she liked him. The smooth, lickable dragons were becoming a distant wanting, pushed aside but never forgotten.

Madison found herself grinding on Francis, pushing her crotch against his flank. He and the bear exchanged looks of disbelief followed by little grins which asked what can you do?

"I'm here for a good time," the tiger said without prompt, followed by a long slug of her drink. Droplets of orange juice splashed around her mouth. She pulled her tits off of Francis' neck just enough for the dog to turn his head, and she grinned at his mild expression. "Either of you guys busy or what?"

"We're busy," Francis coyly said.

Paul nodded to that. "Busy holdin' these stools on the floor."

"Ha-ha, aren't you both fuckin' comedians," Madison dryly replied, forcing a huge, toothy grin that made the Dobie recoil. She mellowed it out to ask, "Well, you guys wanna be busy doing something else?"

The panda sucked on one of his jowls, quirking up a smile at the corners of his mouth. He reached for Madison and rubbed her hip like tentatively petting a sedated lion at the zoo. "What you got in mind, baby? You look like the kinda chick, yeah, likes to knit, I bet."

Francis chuckled. "Maybe you wanna play a game of checkers?"

"Oh, yeah, you fucking got me nailed there," the tiger scoffed, and polished off her drink. There had been three shots of vodka in that. She put down the glass and leaned on Francis again, just beginning to feel the effects of the booze. "I'm a real slut for Chutes and Ladders, lemme tell you."

The bear slid his big paw down around Madison's hip and ass. He covered up most of her booty that way, and he squeezed her tightly, making her mewl. He watched her tail straighten out, becoming a stripey line jutting from the small of her back. "Whaddaya think, Francis? We gonna play wit' her?"

She leaned over Francis, nuzzling up against his cheek. "Mmm, ye-e-eah, Francis. You gonna pla-a-ay with me?"

--2

Madison didn't care about the private pole or the minibar or the soft shag carpeting. Madison only cared about getting the jockstrap off of Paul's big, muscular ass. She slipped around behind him with her slinky feline grace and grabbed the waistband in eager fingers. She raked with her claws as she pulled the jock down, making little ruts in the bear's ass cheeks which didn't bleed but caused Paul to huff and bite his jowl, looking at Francis with a mildly embarrassed smirk.

It was clear whose body Madison wanted first. Gentle Francis was okay with that; the fact that he was there at all implied he was going to get a turn. He walked past the bear and the tiger, turning his head to catch a glance at what she was doing: she pulled his jock down around his knees (where gravity did the rest) and pried apart his ass cheeks, baring the tight, pink prize she was after. With her tail lashing wildly, she stuffed her snout in the crack of his ass and started to slobber on his asshole, smearing the winking ring with drool. The barbell in her tongue caught and tweaked against the bear's snug anus, adding pleasure to what was already an abundance of the stuff.

Paul puffed from the sides of his mouth, still biting his jowl. He doubled over, braced his big paws on his sturdy knees, and the motion pushed his thick ass out into her face. Even though he was muscular and taut like the rest of the Nature Calls staff, Paul was still a bear, and there was a satisfying carpet of fat on his hard ass. It jiggled, making his shiny black fur ripple like a wheat field in a breeze. "Y'havin' a good snack there, babe?"

"Sure looks like it," Francis chuckled, now feeling a little pang of jealousy. He kept on his original course, walking around behind the bar where he poured himself a couple fingers of bourbon. Nobody had bothered to stock that awful pumpkin spice grog in the VIP rooms, and that said a lot, however subtly, about how much the management actually believed in the stuff.

Francis sipped his drink and fondled himself idly, his fat prick leaving a stain of precum in the pouch of his jockstrap. Watching Madison go at it was easy material to rub one out to; she munched the puffing bear's big ass with such ferocity and noisiness that she could've been a porn star. She was, in fact. Just an amateur one, but right then and there, Francis thought she had the chops to be a pro. Paul would have agreed, he thought.

"All right, so-o-o," Francis chuckled, following Madison's lashing tail with his eyes, "how's about I take up the rear while you slobber Paulie's ass?"

"I told you not to fuckin' call me Paulie," the bear warned, and he wasn't playing.

The dog gulped down his drink and said, still tasting liquid fire, "You're getting your ass tongued. You can deal with being called Paulie, Paulie." The polar bear just grumbled.

Madison yanked back her snout, suddenly laughing. "Wanna hold him down while I stomp his nuts, Paul? I hate being called Maddie, I'm on your side here!"

Paul stood up and made a deliberate show of cracking his knuckles as he wheeled around to face the dog, who was leaning over the bar and smirking. "Eh... nah, kid, he ain't worth it," he verbally shrugged, waving it off. "But 'ey," he grinned, "been a while since I licked some pussy." He pulled her up on her feet and nipped one of her ears. His slobbery jowl lingered on it, making it flick. "How 'bout it, girl?"

While neither of them were looking, Francis dropped his jockstrap and walked into the adjacent restroom, his uncut prick wagging back and forth in front of him with a swagger.

Madison couldn't help but snicker. It had an evil, scheming quality to it. "You wanna eat me out, huh? Tongue me good and deep?"

"Yeah, babe." Paul growled, palming her ass. "Lick yer cunt until I hit bottom."

She dragged her tongue over her pierced lip and chuckled. "'Till you hit bottom, huh. All right, babe. You can eat me out." She smooched the handsome bear on his jowly lips, giving the bottom one a suck, pulling it out a bit. He huffed and went along with her a few inches before she broke it off, and he followed her as she backpedaled to the big leather sofa.

Francis was just coming out of the bathroom, still hard but now with a bubblegum-pink condom sheathing his meat. He had five or six others in his closed fist; it was no fun to have to get up for more when you were in the middle of a lay. Their colors varied, but they were all eyeball-searing primaries.

"Hope I didn't miss anything," the Dobie wryly said, watching Paul kneel before Madison, who was unzipping her fly.

"Nah, baby, you're just in time for the best part!" she cackled, pulling open the denim flaps of her dark jeans. There, plain as day under her matching black panties (she hated being labeled a goth but loved the color black) was her erection, visibly bent by the fabric and throbbing sharply. "If you wanna eat me out, hot stuff, you gotta go under my nuts," she sniggered.

Beyond a confused blink, Paul was game. He tugged down the tiger's panties, and her cock sprung free from them, pinkish and swollen with a tight hood of foreskin. The bear licked his lip - more in thought than lust - and grabbed her prick in his strong paw, making it disappear almost completely. The big cat at once moaned and bit her lip. "Mmm, wasn't expecting you to be cool with it," she admitted, letting out a guilty chuckle.

Francis sat heavily on the couch, dropping the rubbers on the sleek, modern coffee table at his side. He wrapped his arm around the girl and smooched her cheek. "You like to play the trap, do you?" he asked with a sneer, as the panda started to stroke her.

"Mmmh, it's fu-u-un, yeah," she giggled, sounding malicious. She grabbed Francis by the cock and gave it a squeeze. "I wanna fuck one of you."

The Doberman couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Paul take it in the ass. Even now, the panda just looked at him with a lopsided smirk, as if to say you're it. "Uhn. Well," Francis groused, "I'm down, I guess. But you're using lube."

"Oh, for sure."

"And you're gonna rim me when we're done."

"I was gonna even if you said no," Madison chirruped. She batted at his cock and put a booted foot on Paul's shoulder. "All right! You're gonna ride me then!"

Although the girl didn't shove him with her foot, Paul unhanded her cock and pulled back. "Thought you wanted me to eat you out?" he asked, cranking up his smirk again.

Madison scooted over when Francis got up, and he looked over his shoulder. Without being told to, she grabbed a rubber - from out of her pocket. The magnums on the table wouldn't have fit her without a rubber band to loop around the bottom a couple times. As she rolled it on, sheathing her uncut dick in indigo latex, she said to the bear, "You can eat my ass after I fuck your boyfriend. Lemme work up a sweat."

"Francis ain't my boyfriend," Paul said indifferently. "Either way, babe, I'm on board."

"There's some lube there, with the rubbers," Francis said with a nod. Firmly he added: "Use some."

In short order, Madison got her cock slicked up and the bear sat beside her, thigh to thigh with her. Both had their bottoms on still, but around their ankles and pooled on the floor. "C'mere now, doggy," she snarled, grabbing Francis' muscular ass in slick fingers. She pulled him down, yanking him even as he descended. Madison didn't care that he was so big he'd break her pelvis if he dropped on her; she just wanted her dick up the stud's fuckhole. When he finally was in her lap, he braced himself with one paw on the armrest and the other on Paul's thigh. He got his behind near Madison's cock, and the tiger guided it in, letting out a lewd, long hiss when the dog's weight helped him impale himself on her. Francis was more reserved, just groaning quietly, but his cock twitched and drooled precum into his rubber.

Francis put only a portion of his muscular weight on the girl. He didn't even try to look over his shoulder. As she fondled his naked body, groping and clawing him in an incredibly possessive way, he growled, "This what you were hoping for?"

"Fuck yeah," Madison snickered, and she smacked the dog on the ass. Francis just huffed, but it was more of a reaction than she'd expected to get from him. Still snickering and more evilly than ever, she yapped, "C'mon, ride me!"

"Yeah, ride her," Paul dryly cut in, putting his arm around Madison's shoulders.

"Stuff it, Paul. When I want shit from you, I'll squeeze your head," Francis admonished. Using a slow, awkward pace, making obvious attempts not to drop on the girl, the Doberman bounced his fine, hard ass on her. His docked stub of a tail wiggled; his penis throbbed in its rubber and made the reservoir bulge thicker with pre. "Fu-u-uck," he puffed, squeezing tightly on Paul's knee. "Forgot what a hard one up the ass feels like..."

Watching as Francis rose and fell on Madison was interesting to Paul, but not as interesting as the girl herself. Chick with dick or no, she was a pretty girl, with a pretty face (at least under all of that metal) and very pretty tits. Paul leaned in closer to her, and with his free paw, clutched her breasts through her halter. Rips in the fabric here and there let him touch her naked breast fur without impediment. She let loose a sultry mro-o-owl! which seemed somehow both challenging and needful, then smooched him firmly on his handsome, broad snout.

"Mmh, too bad you don't wanna take it up the ass," Madison sighed. She kept a paw on Francis, but groped Paul with the one closer to him. She unabashedly fondled his naked penis, gripping its fat glans though keeping mindful of her claws. "Nice fucking dick you got..."

"Yeah," Paul uttered, "I don't get fucked. Sorry." He smooched her temple and all but purred, "An' if you like my dick, girl, I think I know just the place for it..."

Francis licked his lips. He was starting to feel the burn in his muscles; holding himself up without actually dropping was proving to be more of an exertion than he realized, but the sensation of that thick lady dick in his clenching ass was wonderful. He slid his paw up Paul's knee and absently batted the bear's cock. "Hey, if you're gonna fuck her, I'm gonna do it first," he huffed. "Your dick's an awful lot bigger than mine."

Being fought over put a nasty smirk on Madison's face. Quite purposefully, she pinched the Doberman's ass cheek and laughed when he gasped. "As if you're gonna fuck me! No. You're getting fucked, boy. Got it?"

"'Ey," Paul murmured, and now he slid his beefy paw under her ragged halter, stretching it tight enough that its rips widened dangerously, "that's not a very nice way to talk to my friend here. If you want my dick up your ass, you're gettin' his too. Capiche?"

Madison found herself grinding up into Francis. That tight, muscular behind was too much to resist, and seeing her rubber-wrapped dick pushing into him and making his asshole swell invoked a response not unlike a prey drive: she liked to inflict damage, and that was exactly what the puffiness in his butthole was. But even as she rudely ground into the dog, the tiger muttered, "Mmh, well, I guess... if I have to, anyway. I'll take his dick too."

"Atta girl," the bear cooed, and smooched her on the temple again. He felt across the fairly large, metallic door knockers hanging from her nipples and imagined giving them a fierce yank just for the hell of it - but he didn't. Even though Paul was tough and damn near twice her size, he was still respectful of Madison's claws. "How close're you to poppin'?"

"Nnnot very," Madison huffed. "Too much talking!"

Paul gave one of her piercings a loving tug, and the gasp she let loose was exactly as gratifying as he hoped it would be. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly," he remarked - whether agreeing with her statement or her gasp, he left unclear. "Francis, hey. Get down from from there 'fore you hurt somebody. And as for you, baby, let's get that lil' fuckhole of yours good 'n slick, 'cause you're gonna need it."

Possessive and huffy with a hiss in her throat, Madison raked her claws along Francis' ass as he pulled himself up for good. She left red marks his bottom, unseen through the fur; a little more pressure and she'd have drawn blood. To her pleasure, Francis clenched from the mild shock and pain before her member left him. The kitty's cock hung then in the air, her condom's reservoir slightly swollen with precum. She pulled herself out of the couch, finding it difficult and furthermore undesirable to leave the soft cushions.

"Get'r lubed up," Paul offhandedly said to Francis as he rolled a rubber down on his cock. Garish cyan latex sheathed his meat, popping in relief with the pulsing veins along his penis. Precum which had previously been allowed to drool down the shaft instead drip-fed the reservoir and gradually made it fat.

"I can lube_myself_ up," Madison said after taking stock of Francis' enormous fingers. She yanked off what little clothes remained on her and flopped on the floor, tilting back to put her weight on her shoulders. Toes splayed, legs wide and balls dangling, she squeezed the single-serve pack of lube across her fingers and, after taking care to retract her claws, simply thrust her fingers deep into her tight, pink asshole. She shuddered, letting loose a wild yowl. The studs watched with tight, coy smirks, lubricating their shafts with identical packets of lube.

Francis, standing near Paul, glanced at the panda's cock then looked up to find that the bear was following his eyes. "Later on, just you and me," Paul whispered, and winked. "If that's why you're lookin' at my dick, anyway."

Madison interrupted the quiet, gay moment when she righted herself, straightening her legs before throwing them out. She hurled herself into a somersault which took her up to her feet. Aside from a brief wobble with stopping her movement, it was a perfect ten, and the panda slowclapped; Francis laughed. "Yeah, fuck you," Madison spat. She pointed at him severely, grinning. "You shoulda been lubing me with your tongue!"

Paul glanced at Francis, nodded towards the tiger. They closed in on her, each taking a side. Paul grabbed her under the armpit, Francis by the elbow and a tit. "What we're about to do, just trust me," and now the Doberman smiled lewdly, "slobber wouldn't have cut it."

"Yeah, I dunno if the lube's gonna cut it, either," the bear sniggered, cock rubbing on the girl's thigh. He took stock of her wary, slightly worried face, thinking she looked cute with such a pouty lip and narrow eyes. "Francis, sit down." He said it brusquely, like one word: siddown.

Speaking in a mildly pissy tone and being walked toward Francis, whom sat where she had been before and held up his thick, latex-wrapped cock, Madison growled, "What are you assholes tryna pull here?"

It said an awful lot about Madison's compliance when she, led by Paul, climbed into Francis' lap and straddled his cock. She even slid it into the crack of her ass and smooched him on the lips, but it seemed like a nervous gesture. She was seeking comfort.

"What we're tryna pull," said the panda, bending his knees and taking up the rear, "is two wieners in one bun, babe."

From his vantage point, Paul held his cock together with the Doberman's and pushed both their fat cockheads against the tiger's little, slippery pucker. Madison glanced over her shoulder at his intent, downward-focused eyes and swatted her tail across his snout. He blew on it and batted it away with his free paw. "You guys have some fucking balls, I'll give you that."

Francis fondled and squeezed Madison, smiling impishly. He grasped the tiger's cock and gave it a grope. "Gonna assume you mean figuratively, since literally, well, duh." He kissed her lips and said, nose to nose with her and therefore quite intimately, "But between you and I, I like those claws. So having you a little stressed-out and wild is all right with me, kittycat."

"Think I got it now," Paul muttered. "Hold on tight."

Even as much as she appreciated the warning, there was no chance Madison could handle two gigantic, throbbing dicks at once without a little crying and yowling. She did both, the first minimally, the latter in excess. "Fffu-u-uck!" she whined, slamming herself chest to chest with Francis. She could feel her poor, small anus pulling into an awkward oblong. Like switchblades, her claws sprung out, and she plunged them into the backrest of the sofa, producing a decet of rends in the leather.

Francis wrapped his arms around her, uttering soft, loving shushes, but he grinned over her shoulder. Paul grinned back and winked at the dog, grabbing Madison by the hips and pulling her down.

"Aw, god," Madison bleated, all of that sass and cute bitchiness wrung right out of her. "Christ..."

"Want us to quit?" Francis asked.

Some of the attitude came right back: "Like hell!"

Tight as the girl was and easy though it might have been to savor those snug, gulping muscles alone, Paul found himself loving the frot of his balls on Francis'. They both had a plump set, and they were both throbbing in idle pleasure; the sensation of their nuts grinding as their slabs of meat kept the girl wedged open was queerly romantic, emphasis on the queer.

To the extent that they could, Paul and Francis found their cocks bottomed out in the girl. The fact was that their penises couldn't get perfectly flush bottom to bottom, not without busting their balls, and going any further would have stretched Madison so far as to completely ruin her asshole, and not in the fun way they intended to. Paul conceded this defeat when he rubbed her shoulders and rumbled for her sake, and as instruction to Francis, "We're gonna pick y'up between us now, girl. Hold on. And try not to clench too much or your butthole ain't gonna make it."

"Ooh, ga-a-awd, I hate you fuckers," Madison sighed, clinging to Francis as the Doberman clumsily stood up. Carrying a table as a team was hard enough, with one person always moving too quickly for the other; carrying a girl whose ass was speared around two dicks offered an even tinier margin for error. They didn't move very far before they pushed in together and sandwiched her between their dense, sweaty bodies.

"You all right?" Francis cooed, and this time he wasn't smirking at Paul.

Madison let loose a long, careful sigh. "Mhm... it's just been, li-i-ike, two or three years since I've done this." She looked over her shoulder, twisting her head around quite far in yet another display of feline flexibility. Meeting Paul's blue eyes, she growled, "Well, you guys gonna fuck me?"

Paul tried to kiss her lips. He got his bottom jowl bitten and tugged, but that quick dose of pain made him shudder. With a grin, he squeezed on the tiger's thighs and bumped his balls against Francis'. "Guess so. C'mon, Francis, les' fuck this slut."

The two studs didn't exactly move quickly, but they worked hard. As they lifted Madison up and pulled her down, they also ground inward, partly because they both loved the way their ballbags ground together, but even more to better stuff their cocks into the tiger. Madison herself squirmed and panted, her toes often splaying. She grit her teeth and threw back her head, but instead of a roar, a submissive, tiny mewl escaped her.

The reservoirs of the condoms were getting full with precum, and their bulbous shapes put odd pressure on the already gouged flesh of Madison's rectal muscles. She had a prostate, it being standard equipment with her cock and balls, and the stimulation to it was adding to the pleasure she'd gained from the Doberman's slow, if not short ride. She rested back against Paul, letting her pierced tits breathe a little bit, and she grabbed her stiff, purple-clad cock. She pulled the rubber off quickly, tossing it on the floor, and she masturbated eagerly. The wet suck and smack of her gliding paw added neatly to the lazy sounds of the double penetration.

Francis, amber eyes nearly closed and docked tail wagging, leaned close and slopped his long doggy tongue up through the girl's cleavage. Madison gasped and grabbed his snout, pawing at his nose clumsily.

"Mmh, gawd," Madison whined. "Fuck me harder, you assholes...!"

A grunt from the bear and a chuckle from the dog were the first answers; the way they yanked Madison down and sloppily bucked upwards was the second and more resounding reply. Their cocks wedged her even further apart, and the violent insertion wrenched a shriek of painful pleasure from her pierced, punky mouth. "Oh--! Oh, fuck, that fucking hurts!"

"You asked for it, honey," Paul lowly, matter-of-factly said, and the ruthless assfuck went on. They made quite a rhythm of it - lifting her nearly to the tops of their shafts before slamming her down, driving their members into her like stakes. Her anus stayed pliant, never tearing, but the pain was as sharp as the pleasure. Madison's cock was twitching and spitting pre into her fingers, but her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were wet.

That Madison was deeply masochistic was obvious. Even the mild Francis was delighted in the brutality of the moment; he was so used to being gentle with smaller partners that to find one who not only could take, but actually wanted to be insanely gaped was bewitching. He licked through her cleavage again, then bit on one of her tits. The feline shrieked again and grabbed him by the ear. "Oh-fuck-me, oh-god-fuck-me," she bleated, talking so rapidly and shrilly as to be blurting out an awkward, frenzied chant.

Francis suckled the whole of Madison's thick tit, then closed his teeth around the doorknocker. He gave it a tug on his way back just as he and Paul mashed their meat into her in unison. Her head thrown back, Madison screamed inarticulately, a dramatic skyward yowl to accompany her climax. She shot into her clenching fingers then slid her paw down, pulling the hood of her foreskin with it. Her mess splattered on the tight washboard of Francis' belly, leaving a crazy white stripe. She whimpered miserably, the tears falling away from her cheeks in a steady flow as her bottom clenched wildly - and agonizingly - on the two shafts keeping her spread open.

"Oh, ain't you a fuckin' easy lay," Paul sneered, but his voice had that telltale strain. Francis looked across at him now and saw the pleasure boiling in his eyes. He was just about to pop, and the Doberman thought he looked all the more handsome for it. "Oughta yank this rubber off and dump my nuts right up yer dickchick ass."

"Uhn, gawd," Madison blubbered. "Fuck, my butt hurts..."

"It's gonna, for a while," Francis muttered, focusing on her again. The tears and scowling made her look... prettier, somehow. It cut off that sass at the knees, made her look like a scared little girl. He smooched her on the cheek and was surprised when she smooched back. He was still grinding in time with Paul, or at least trying to, because the bear's rhythm had gotten even sloppier. His balls were taut in the crook of his legs, and his breathing was harsh and rapid.

"You gonna blow?" Francis asked, speaking in an admiring tone. He suddenly felt very jealous of the fact that Madison was the one being fucked by him.

Paul nodded, face scrunching, and drew a sharp breath and his jowls pulled back, showing huge ursine teeth in a silent roar of an expression. He threw back his head, and he uttered a long, quaking moan, just as he began to shoot. His teeth gnashed just behind the girl's head, startling her, but nothing could entirely distract her from the bulk of his orgasm; he just came and came, filling his rubber with the kind of virility even the stallions and dragons at the club would've found excessive. It was all down to those big, fat balls hanging from him - the same ones Francis liked feeling against his own.

"Uhhhn, fuckin' shit," Paul grumbled, easing into a more normal posture, putting his chin on the girl's shoulder. "Jee-zus Christ, that was a good nut. Ah, you gonna pop too, Francis?"

Madison squirmed uneasily. The alarming full feeling that the bloated condom gave her was awkward and embarrassing. "Goddamn, I don't think I can take it if both you guys jizz inside of me... come on, juh--, just give me a breather here and I'll suck you the rest of the way or something, Francis, okay? Please?"

As the two studs agreeably pulled out of Madison, leaving her asshole reddened and gaped and gulping at the open air, Paul took careful note of the Doberman's bedroom eyes. All interest he'd had in Madison had seemed to wane, and he found himself pompously thinking well of course he wants me - who wouldn't? But there was, of course, something a little more romantic to the way Francis was looking at him. He knew that look. He'd seen it here and there at the club when the talent shacked up. Did Francis want him as a boyfriend? Was he just feeling cuddly and sweet? Paul gave the whole idea a mental shrug. He helped Madison hobble to the couch; he even bent over and gave her destroyed anus a couple of soothing licks. He waited that way with his ass purposefully exposed.

Francis put a paw on Paul's slightly fat ass - a little body fat being the prerogative of a bear, no matter how muscular. Paul wore it well. "Hey, uh, Paul," he quietly said. "You and me. What do you think?"

Madison rolled onto her side, pulling her butt away from the bear's soothing tongue. She cracked a smirk; the old Madison was coming back. "Are you guys gonna fuck? That's hot."

Paul licked his lips. They were slick with leftover lube smeared on the girl's asshole. He looked at Francis' eyes, then at his cock, still slick and wrapped in that ugly pink rubber. His own condom, the cyan one, was tied up and sitting unceremoniously in the trash can.

"Yeah," he muttered, not sure if he was talking to Madison or Francis.

The Doberman's eyes lit up. Madison got to watch Francis fuck Paul's supposedly exit-only ass. Francis and Paul got something arguably more important out of the deal, and when they saw Madison again a year or so later, they invited her to another night with them - this time celebrating their one-year anniversary.