FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_'So I'll go, yes I'll go. Yes I'll go, yes I'll go. Oh baby I'll go...' _

The Rocky Mountains loomed outside, dirty snow piled high on the sides of the road. Sandra sighed and tried to forget that in a few seconds she'd have to hit the skip button on the CD player. It was just out of reach, and she really didn't want to move.

'Before I fall to pieces, yes I'll go...'

Not that the front passenger seat of the '89 Chevy Astro was comfortable. It wasn't. But she'd settled into it so completely, and the hot air from the vent was hitting her leonine muzzle so perfectly, and in the back the kids were being so amazingly quiet...

'Yes I'll go before I fall to pieces...'

Miguel would push it, if she asked him to. But she wouldn't ask him to, any more than he'd have asked her to drive.

'Oh oh oh...'

"MOM! He's not letting me see it!"

There it was. She pulled herself upright and stretched, her fingertips casually hitting 'skip' as she did so and cutting the Scissors Sisters off before they could get to the parts she didn't want the kids to hear. She knew Miguel's English wasn't good enough to understand the lyrics, but if her husband ever wondered why she insisted on skipping that track every time, he never asked. Trusting her to do her job like she trusted him to do his.

"Gabe, let your brother see the screen." She glanced at the dash clock. "His turn anyway. Save and hand it over."

"What? But I just got it! He had it all morning!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

She sighed again. "It's his turn, Gabe."

"But it's not fair!"

Not for the first time, Sandra found her head filled with visions of herself flinging the gameboy - an old black and white model - out the window and watching its internals splash and skitter all over the highway behind them. But she was pretty sure it was a net win as far as keeping the boys quiet went, and there was no way they'd be able to afford another one in the foreseeable future, even if Miguel managed to do very well where they were going.

"It's his turn," she repeated. Gabe sucked in a breath in preparation to object further and she hurried to cut him off. "Look. If you're not gonna play by the rules you're not gonna play at all. Any more out of you and it'll be his for the rest of the day."

"That's not-"

"I don't care if it's fair. It's the rules. Got it?"

Gabe scowled, then abruptly seemed to get over it. "Okay. I just need another minute."

That had been too easy. She folded the sun visor down and used the mirror to study her children, attempting to gauge the situation and see if there was any brewing trouble which she might head off. The three canines were fully absorbed in their own little worlds, framed by stacks of flats of oranges. Adriana, her oldest, had her nose buried in a book that Sandra was sure the girl had already read at least twice. Arturo, the youngest, watched with hungry eyes as his big brother presumably wrapped up what he was doing. And Gabe...

The older of the two boys was focused on the gameboy, but she didn't like the look on his face one bit. "You've got sixty seconds," she warned him. "Better get to a pokecenter by then or else you're not gonna."

"Sure," he said, and smiled.

"What-?" she began, but cut off as plumes of steam shot out from around the edges of the hood. She glanced over to Miguel, who was already pulling off to the side of the road. He didn't look worried as he cut the engine, but that didn't tell her anything. She thought that the coywolf would be keeping his cool even if the entire van had burst into flames.

The kids all noticed that something was up and got to their feet, crowding the space between their parents' seats.

"Trouble?" asked Adriana, pushing her glasses higher up onto the bridge of her muzzle.

Miguel shook his head. "El radiador nuevamente." He flashed them all a reassuring smile. "No trouble."

The boys were almost instantly back in their spots, bored of waiting before Miguel had even popped the hood release. But Adriana stayed where she was.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

Sandra gestured at the stacks of flats, eyes on her husband as he disappeared behind the rising hood. "Have an orange."

But the girl shook her head. "I'm sick of oranges."

That was fair, but Sandra could hardly say so. "They're good for you. They've got vitamins. Come una'ranja."

The girl grimaced. "I don't care. I've had nothing but oranges for three days. If I eat another one I'm gonna puke."

Sandra nodded in sympathy, then hesitated, checking again in the mirror to make sure the boys weren't listening. "Mija... why do you think that is?"

Adriana frowned. "You mean, why do I think we only have oranges?"

Sandra nodded.

Adriana looked down at her toes. "Cause... we're poor, I guess?"

The lioness shook her head with heart-felt vigor. "Not poor. Nuestra familia es muy rica, and never forget it. But... it's true that today we don't have much money."

"There's a lot of money behind your seat!" piped up Arturo from the back.

Sandra smiled but shook her head. Always listening, that one, even when he didn't let on. "That's right, puppy, but that money is for making change. If we don't have that we can't sell the oranges, and then we're gonna be eating them for weeks. Or until they go bad."

Adriana rolled her eyes. "Or until we do."

Again, fair. "Look, mija. Your dad's got a job where we're going. Not a long job, but a job. So when we get there, and when he gets his first paycheck..." Three sets of long, pointed ears perked up, "We're gonna go to McDonalds."

"YEAH!" exclaimed Arturo, glee writ large on his face.

"You promise?" demanded Gabe, the gameboy momentarily forgotten.

Miguel was peeking around the hood, wondering what all the commotion was about. She made eye contact for a moment and decided that she could sell it to him. "Yeah. That's a promise."

Even Adriana, too old for happy meals, seemed delighted.

"But for now..." she pointed at the flats towering over the boys, "you wanna split one with me, maybe?"

Adriana shrugged and grabbed one off the top.

Good girl. But then, all her kids were good. "Here." Sandra took the orange, flicked a claw out, and made short work of the peel. One more way to be useful in a family of canines.

She was about to remind Gabe that he was over his time limit when the hood slammed shut and Miguel walked back around. He climbed into the seat and buckled up, but nothing happened when he turned the key. He cocked his head and tried again, with the same result.

The particulars of why this might be were well beyond Sandra, so she simply enjoyed watching him keep his composure in a situation that surely would have had her own father filling the van with obscenities.

"Why isn't it working, Papa?" That was Adriana again, sounding for all the world like the anglo people on TV.

He opened his mouth, paused, and shut it again, then shook his head, reached back down for the hood release, and climbed back out of the van.

Sandra's eyes flicked back up to her sons in the mirror. "Gabe, it's-"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Hold on. Okay, here you go. Batteries are gonna die soon anyway."

Sandra gave him a long, hard look, but didn't feel like picking this particular fight.

Arturo ignored the curse, at any rate, and snatched the offered gameboy from his brother's paws as though his life depended on it. He checked the cartridge in back, looked momentarily surprised, and hurriedly flicked on the power.

"Mom, what's 'fungible' mean?"

She turned to Adriana. What in the world was that girl reading? "You're gonna have to look that one up, mija."

"But the dictionary's under the oranges."

Right. "Sorry, baby. Guess you'll have to wait. Is it, um, one where you can maybe figure it out from the words around it?"

Adriana looked back at the page in dismay. "Not really."

"What...?" squeaked Arturo, a strangled edge of panic in his voice.

Sandra looked back up to find the smirk she'd feared on her older son's face. "Gabe, you-"

Suddenly Miguel was back in the driver's seat. Again he turned the key, and again nothing happened.

He put his hand on the back of his neck, and Sandra felt the first faint stirrings of worry.

"MOM!" bellowed Arturo. "Mom! He saved over my game!"

"It was an accident!" protested Gabe, far too quickly.

Miguel turned the key and nothing happened.

"NO IT WASN'T!" screamed Arturo at the top of his little lungs, achieving a peak of shrillness that made Adriana slam shut her book in anger.

Sandra found herself gripping the door handle, knuckles stretched tight. She swiveled to face her oldest son, fury rising in her chest. "You are in big trouble, little man!"

"But I didn't mean-"

"Yes he-"

"Why can't you all just SHUT UP?!" yelled Adriana, bringing her mother up short.

Arturo began to sob hysterically.

"Okay," began Sandra, picking her way carefully from one moment to the next so as to stay in control. "Okay, here's what's up. Arturo, do you want your brother's red game?"

"WHAT-?"

"Cállate," she hissed at Gabe. "Puppy?"

Arturo sniffed loudly, considered the proposition, and nodded.

Gabe shrieked. "But that's not fair! I didn't even mean-"

Sandra's mind reeled, caught among a hundred conflicting statements of frustration and disappointment and incredulity and, frankly, insult at the prospect of her being gullible enough to believe that her son had 'accidentally' switched cartridges and started a new game and saved over his brother's project of the last month. She opened her mouth, half-afraid of what would come out first, when-

"Gabriel," her husband spoke softly.

His eyes bored hard into his son's from the rear view mirror.

Gabe swallowed hard and nodded. And that was that.

Miguel ran his hands back over his ears, seeming to weigh the situation, then said, "Everybody... out."

Sandra thought about that while she helped the kids clamber out of the side door. He'd been addressing their children in English more often lately. Probably as often as he felt comfortable doing so, now that she thought about it. And he might as well have, since they only ever answered back in English anyway.

She wondered how good the schools were in Colorado Springs, and how much trouble she'd have getting their kids in mid-semester, possibly for only a few weeks. She couldn't decide whether she was glad there would be no strawberries for her to pick while the kids were in class. Less money, but her back wasn't what it used to be, either.

The kids all lined up against the van, waiting for their father's orders. Even the boys seemed to have forgotten pokemon and for once none of them were complaining about the chilly air.

Miguel sized them all up for a moment, and finally said, "Okay. I need... I go up the road. Tengo que encontrar una tienda. Find parts, maybe." He looked first at Gabe, then at Arturo. "Gabriel, you come with me."

Sandra looked on as Gabe grew at least six inches in height. It wasn't a bad idea. He'd be able to translate if Miguel ran into trouble.

But Arturo looked about ready to cry again. "Why not me?"

Miguel squatted in front of him. "Porque you... got to stay here. Got to keep your mother y sister safe. Hasta I come back." He favored his son with a big smile. Arturo didn't look convinced. "Plus, eh..." he briefly glanced up at Sandra. "When I come back, you're gonna help me fix the van. Okay?"

Arturo nodded vigorously.

"What?" demanded Gabe. "He doesn't know anything about cars. I'm way-"

"Yes I do!"

"No you-"

Miguel held up a hand to stop them, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Gabriel, you say you're better at cars?"

Gabe suddenly seemed less certain, but couldn't back down. "Well, yeah. Sure I am."

"Okay," said Miguel, coming to a conclusion. "So, when I come back, you help teach your brother. Sí?"

The boys looked at each other, then back to him. "Sí papá," they said almost in unison.

Sandra outright beamed. Her good boys. And her good man.

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Adriana. "I'm almost done with this book and if have to read it again-"

"You'll puke?" guessed Arturo.

Adriana gave him a goofy smile. "Something like that."

"Go, boys." Sandra walked around and opened the back of the van. "I'll take care of things here."

Miguel made eye contact and nodded ever so slightly before turning and heading up the road, Gabe walking tall beside him.

"What are we doing?" asked her littlest.

"Putting out the oranges. You never know who might drive by here, and we could use the cash. Maybe go get the change money from the seat for me, puppy?"

Adriana huffed. "Why bother? No one's come by the whole time we've been here and no one probably will."

"You never know," repeated Sandra firmly, and together they hauled out the flats and stacked them by the road, an unnecessary but colorful umbrella over them to protect them from the scant February sun (but really to draw the eye). With the flats removed, she reached into the van and pulled out the piece of plywood with the words 'Taste Summer' spray-stenciled on it in neon orange block letters and set it up against the umbrella's base.

She made sure to enlist Arturo's help in selecting a few rocks to place below the back edges of the uppermost flats, too, tilting them forward slightly so as to appear more bountiful and alluring to any customers.

Upon reflection, she undid the top of her blouse for the same reason.

Adriana noticed. "Why do you always do that, mom?"

"Hmm?"

"You always open your shirt like that. Even when it's cold."

Sandra considered this. The girl would probably have her own soon, if she was paying attention to such things. And then she'd understand exactly why her mother did it. Important to make sure that she understand how to be demure about it, too. "Cause sometimes I get warm moving the oranges out, baby."

Her oldest didn't look convinced. "O...kay. Anyway, oranges are set up. So what do we do now?"

Sandra took stock of their situation. The environment really didn't offer many ideas. The van had broken down near the crest of a pass and there wasn't much open land on either side that wasn't covered in filthy snow, the novelty of which her kids had long since gotten over. She might have the kids sort through the oranges, looking for any on the verge of spoiling, but intution told her they'd revolt if she put that demand on them just now.

"You have your notebook, Adriana?"

"Yes mama."

"Go get it. I'll show you how to figure out how much we need to make selling these oranges to buy the gas to get where we're going."

"Can I watch?" marveled Arturo.

"Of course you can, puppy. You're gonna help."

Adriana handed the notebook over, but rolled her eyes as though she had anything better to be doing. "Why don't you just do it yourself?"

"Cause..." Sandra clenched her jaw. Because someday you're probably going to have to do it, too. "...Porque soy tu madre, and I say so, is why."

Her smart girl sighed in exasperation, but didn't argue.

Sandra walked them through a few scenarios. Could they sell the oranges for fifty cents each? What about a dollar? Two? But she made sure to explain that almost no one would buy them, then. And what if the price of gas changed? If they weren't ready, they might not be able to afford it. Sometimes even enough isn't enough.

Arturo followed along as best he could, and helped work the calculator, but eventually he grew restless and she sent him out to gather clean snow to put in jugs for the radiator.

By that point Adriana had become wholly engrossed in the math. What if they had to buy the oranges instead of getting them as a favor? Now they'd have overhead to consider.

The girl had a head for numbers. Just for fun, Sandra had her work out how many oranges it would take to get the radio fixed. Her daughter was at least as invested as she was in having something else to listen to other than a single Now That's What I Call Music CD.

No one ever did drive by, though.

The sun was setting and they were just finishing loading the van back up when papa and Gabe came back over the hill at the top of the pass. Sandra felt a sinking feeling.

"Nothing up that way," reported Gabe glumly.

Sandra fought the temptation to try to read her husband's face and instead busied herself peeling and halving an orange for them. "You've gotta be tired. Eat something."

They ate.

Adriana looked up from the dictionary she'd turned to for entertainment. "We sleeping here tonight?"

Miguel nodded, and without a word the kids started breaking out their sleeping bags and blankets.

She turned to her husband and spoke in a low voice. "Last town we passed was...?"

He looked back down the road. "Quince... quizás veinte millas."

She looked that way with him. "Mañana?"

He paused, thinking the route over, and nodded. "Pero, Gabriel stay here."

She smiled. "I'll find work for him."

There was a brief scuffle before bed when Arturo boasted about 'his' level 100 charizard, but it was swiftly defused. Sandra suspected that it would be a day or two before Gabe got over his loss and started a new team on the blue game, during which Arturo at least would be busy. She made a mental note to ask Miguel to pick up batteries when he made it to the gas station. Expensive, but worth their weight in gold.

By the time the kids were fully settled Sandra was ready for sleep herself. But one last thing needed doing, and it was important.

"Miguel," she whispered. He looked up, surprised, from where he was reclining in the driver's seat. She jerked her head to indicate 'out.'

The children didn't stir as they exited the van. She took his hand and drew him around to the side where the windows were blocked by the orange flats within.

She wrapped him in a hug. "Gracias," she whispered in his ear, then decided to switch entirely into Spanish. "You helped a lot with the kids today. And I know you're gonna get the van figured out."

He exhaled just a little too loudly. For him.

She drew him closer. He had a lot on his mind. The job his cousin had told him about wouldn't wait, and without that the future was a giant question mark. Work had been harder lately, to the point that even a skilled carpenter like Miguel was hungry for the roofing job. If they weren't in Colorado Springs by Friday...

His place to worry about that. Hers to worry about explaining to the kids that McDonald's wasn't happening.

So close to him, she became aware of the tension in his neck, his shoulders, his spine.

She inhaled deeply through the fur of his neck, drinking in his scent. Only one thing for it.

Miguel didn't seem surprised when she lowered herself to her knees before him, or when the cold mountain air found its way into his pants only to be banished a heartbeat later by the warmth of her mouth. He just settled back against the van, relaxing as much as possible given the circumstances, and let her do her work.

She kept her thumb clenched tightly in her left fist as he lengthened and thickened, his hardness finally pressing into the softness at the back of her throat. She didn't know why it helped, but it did. She let go only long enough to take his hands in hers and draw them into place behind her ears, giving them a little push to encourage him to give into instinct.

It was all he needed. Almost before she'd let go he pulled her gently but firmly onto him, even as he continued to swell bigger and harder within her. She squeezed both her thumbs and tried to settle lower on her haunches, arching her back and tilting her head back to make herself more accessible to his sheer size.

How long had it been since she'd relieved him? Too long. Not since her sister had taken the kids for an afternoon and the two of them had stolen a moment for themselves while running errands. He groaned, deep in his gut, and she realized that he must be full to bursting.

Not itself a problem. She'd mastered the art of swallowing his massive dog-loads a long time ago. But the very idea was causing funny things to happen in her abdomen, and even as his balls started to hint at drawing up into his body she knew she had to stop him.

"Wait," she gasped after pulling back off of him, his erection bobbing in the air as his tip cleared her mouth. She licked her lips and took a moment to breathe.

Miguel actually whined. She grinned at that. "Wait," she said again, drawing herself to her feet. "I'll get the blankets."

His head thunked as he dropped it back against the van. "Hurry." He sounded like he meant it.

It took a little digging, complicated by her desire to avoid waking the kids, but before long she had the bundle of blankets usually reserved for warmer nights. "This way."

She led him to a grassy clearing behind the dirty snow bank, her feet occasionally obliterating the prints left by little Arturo. With practiced ease she flicked the blankets out to unroll in midair, needing to make only minor adjustments afterward.

Normally they'd have gotten under the cover first, but normally he wasn't looking at her this way.

She put her hands on his hips and pushed him down this time, then down again, until he was sitting on the blanket, leaning back on his hands, his manhood massively erect in the cool air.

She stepped carefully out of her jeans and paused. She wanted to feel him pushing into her at least as bad as he did, but a devilish thought occurred to her and she couldn't resist. She moved over him, looked down into his eyes, and then turned around and bent halfway over, pressing her hot, soaked panties into his face, the base of her tail resting between his ears.

Again he groaned, deep down, and suddenly she found his tongue lapping against the cleft in the fabric. Her whole body shuddered involuntarily, leaving no doubt in her mind what she needed. "Oh," she gasped. "Yes. More."

He took her hips in his paws and nosed forward, as though he could slip his entire muzzle into her right through her underwear. Her back arched and his grip tightened instinctively. He growled and nipped at her right buttock. She squeaked and leaned further forward, upturning her rear even further in the process.

He licked at the cleft in her panties again, but impatiently, and she had the conviction that if she weren't wearing them he'd already have pushed her to the ground and mounted her from behind.

Her turn to growl at the very thought, and at the restlessness of the lapping of his tongue. She'd have done something about it, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

But he could. "Woman," he declared, "I need to get in you right now or I'll explode and there will be nothing left of me."

She nodded absently even though he couldn't see it and slowly straightened herself upright and turned to face him. Off came the panties, and she had only the briefest moment to wish for his tongue directly on her before he had her hips again, before he was pulling her down to straddle him, before his massive erection pressed achingly against her stomach until she reached down and placed its tip between her hot, silken lower lips.

Miguel groaned and flexed, dragging her downward by her waist. His long absence had left her body tighter than usual and for a moment he struggled to work himself into her. Even when he had, progress was slow, and, gasping, they worked as a team to overcome inch after inch of resistance. When at last his tip brushed her core, her anus and sex reflexively clenched hard. He groaned in surprise and pleasure, loud enough that she had a paw on his mouth before she even knew it.

Miguel seemed momentarily catatonic, his eyes tightly shut, coming to terms with the sensation of her wrapped so tightly around his aching shaft. She had the presence of mind to unbutton her blouse, spreading it open, and then took his head in her hands. "Darling."

He opened his eyes and, judging by the way he jerked within her, liked what he saw. He gently nosed at her breast and then looked up to her. "You look like you did our first night," he breathed.

She smiled at that. In the starlight, and with the new moon, it might even be true. She knew he wouldn't have said it unless it was true to him, anyway. "The night you put Adriana in me?"

His lips parted as she constricted around him, and he nodded groggily.

She bit her lip, glanced back toward the van for a moment, and turned back to him. "You want to do it again?"

He froze, unsure.

She smiled a wicked smile. "Bind me, lover. Tie yourself deep inside of me. I want puppies again."

He looked warily up at her and for a moment she worried that she'd made a misstep. The last thing he needed right now was the prospect of another mouth to feed.

But then he gathered her lower back in his arms and pulled down, grinding his tip into her cervix. She'd always found this as unbearable as she did irresistible, and before she knew it she was panting into his ear. "You want to make me all big again? You miss the taste of my milk?"

He groaned in the affirmative. Perhaps he'd only been checking to make sure she meant it, before.

She started to roll her hips, gently at first, but slowly building speed. "Come on, husband. Get another puppy on me." Even as she said so, she wondered if it might be a little lion this time. But probably not. The thought was chased from her head as he again flexed up into her. She ground down onto him, pressing her mound against his abdomen, squeezing with her soft thighs in time with the rolling of her hips. His breathing became ragged. "Oh. Oh, yes. Yes, Miguel. Yes. Give me... give..."

His knot caught at her tight feline entrance and she slammed herself down decisively before it could swell too large to pass through. Another trick she'd long since mastered.

Her husband went rigid underneath her and for the first time in far too long she felt his knot assert itself within her, taking more space than she had to give and forcing his shaft further up into her until her cervix dimpled around his tip. She grunted and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. The only thought worse than this continuing was the thought of it ending.

Thick bolts of coywolf cum slammed into her compromised core as her husband yipped and snarled his release. Some fragmented part of her mind remembered to wrap her arms around his head and pull him forward into her cleavage, masking the sound and letting the children sleep, even as pleasure ripped down her spine like the glissando of a mallet sweeping across the keys of a xylophone. Her core yawned open against his tip and the better part of his eruption blasted almost effortlessly up into her wanton womb.

"Oh," she gasped in the tense silence afterward, "Oh, yes. Oh, yes, Miguel. Yes."

Slowly his body relaxed from its death grip on her hips and lower back, and his face unburied itself from her chest. He turned his head and relaxed the side of his face against her softness. She stroked his out-turned ear, her breath occasionally catching as rippling orgasmic aftershocks milked him for a few more rivulets of warmth.

They held each other for a long time. At least half an hour by her reckoning. By the time he'd softened enough to come loose, both were ready to crawl under the blanket and try to get some sleep. But the wind was picking up, and both grimaced at its icy fingers digging into the wet places where they'd just been pressed together.

"Back to the van?"

"Sí."

They cleaned up as best as possible, given the circumstances -- she outright used the blanket to wipe between her legs -- and piled back into their seats. Hers couldn't go back very far because of the oranges, but she was ready to fall asleep on anything.

But before Miguel closed the door against the wind a thought seemed to occur to him. He reached down, popped the hood release again, and stepped back into the night.

Sandra rolled on her side and listened to what he was doing in the silence, a satisfied smile on her face at the soreness of her loins and bottom lip. Good of him to try, when she knew how badly he must want rest.

He climbed back in and turned the key -- and the engine turned over and fired right up. "Hey!" she exclaimed.

The enormous smile of relief on his face told much of the worries he'd been facing. Sandra leaned over and gave him a big, wet kiss. There was a balance to the development that surprised her not at all. She did her job. He did his.

Wasn't that how it worked?

The kids woke up and crowded the front with big, sleepy eyes.

"It's running!" observed Arturo, awe in his voice.

"Yes," Sandra agreed. "Your dad figured it out." Whatever 'it' was. "Now get back to sleep." She looked to Miguel. "This will work in the morning?"

He nodded.

"Then, all of you, to sleep. We're not driving down this mountain in the dark unless we have to." And her husband really did deserve his rest.

The next morning they all woke up to the sound of the engine coming once again to life, and this time Gabe demanded answers.

"The fuse," Miguel explained. By the way he said it, Sandra took this to have been fantastically improbable. "I use the other one..." He shrugged apologetically. "No CD until we get to town."

"Thank God," muttered her oldest as the van pulled back onto the road from the shoulder.

"Watch your mouth," warned Sandra, but her heart was light and they all knew it.

She smiled, flicked out a claw, and peeled an orange.