FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

For a resolutely gay tiger I have an unusual fetish that catches a few of my partners unawares. When I click on a selection on X Tube you can see them looking at me quizzically, their brains in an infinite loop of wtf. I'm a Kinsey 6, and that's pretty obvious early on, and yet...well, I can't resist. Of course, I don't tell them why it works for me. For that I blame Damien.

We had lived across the street from each other for years when it happened, but despite my many jack off fantasies, nothing had yet transpired. I was about to consign myself to never having the chance to sample the more than ample wares sported by my stallion mate when the day suddenly happened. It seems horribly tame now, after all I have done, but at the time it blew my brain into the stratosphere. It still is one of my favourite jack off fantasies, and also the source of my little...predeliction.

Sixteen...and so horny I could hump air and cum. So playing basketball against my stud mate was an exercise in torture, not least because he was the athlete and I was more into cerebral pursuits as befitting a nerdy cat. But he had learned to take pity on me over the years, and instead of playing football or anything else where his magnificently heavy muscles not to mention his skill would give him the win, he chose to shoot hoops with me. I could pass as a shooter, no not that type of shooter, and while I never beat him it at least wasn't embarrassing.

But an hour of grinding against his body in the warmth of a spring Sunday afternoon, my ass rubbing against his groin, tail flicking his chest, sweat dripping from our coats and the scent of ripe colt in my nostrils, well, I needed a rest and not just because I was out of breath. I was more a sprinter than a distance athlete.

So we headed for his place, and a big comfy couch and a couple of cans of Schweppes because in spite of everything neither of us actually liked beer all that much, and let ourselves catch our breath. He had a nice big flatscreen, which he had hooked up to his laptop, and we checked out a few sites whereupon he clicked on a tab I hadn't noticed before and suddenly I was confronted by...it.

The video had stopped in mid-action but I got the gist. A bull, with an enormous set of nuts, was pounding a cheetah chick, or he would have if not for the pause button. Instead he was stuck in some electronic purgatory, his dick half way in, and the stupidest look in history plastered across his muzzle, like he was trying to do the eleven times tables and failing to get past eleven times three. Come to think of it, he looked like he couldn't do the two times tables but still...

"Ahhh sorry mate..."

Damien had the grace to look a little embarrassed. He gave a little sheepish grin, and hid his big green eyes behind a length of chestnut forelock, a length damp and dripping with colt sweat. He was twice as sexy when he was embarrassed, if that were even fucking possible.

"Hey, don't mind me. I can take it."

Bravado was my middle name back then, and I didn't want him to think I was a wimp. Besides, I could focus on the bull sort of, and he was kind of hot in a dumb as a bag of hammers kind of way.

"Really? But I thought you...ahhh..."

He was trying to be so good too. He knew, in fact he had been the first I had told, even before my sister. He won my undying love and not a little crush by giving me a big awkward hug and slapping my back then suddenly realising, pushing me to arms length as if wondering if gay cooties were contagious, realising that was not so good, then hugging again. I fell on the floor laughing after that and he managed to look hurt and concerned at once.

So I decided to help him out.

"Damo, relax. I don't mind. And I can at least watch the guy. He looks fucking hot."

My heart gave a small flutter as I imagined, or thought I imagined, a little grimace of jealousy then. But he smiled again soon after, and gave a wink, and hit play. Soon the air was full of those sounds...the sounds of straight porn.

Bad guitar. Even worse dialogue. Oh yeah. Fuck me with your big cock. Fuck me harder. Oh yeah.

OK, so it was every bit as bad as gay porn. Equality is overrated sometimes.

I sat back, watching, trying to see if it would get any better for me if I imagined them demonstrating Tupperware when I smelt it. The scent of colt, but not colt sweat.

He was staring straight ahead, eyes wide but a little glazed, lips open and a little bit of pink colt tongue extended. I looked down, figuring he wouldn't notice what with the thousand yard stare he was giving the screen, and there it was. A bulge in his shorts the size of a subcompact.

I watched it twitch, the flare swelling under fabric, the full majesty of his horsecock revealed almost but not quite. A wet patch appeared at the tip, right near the elastic of his waistband, and he reached for it subconsciously, fingering his own length. I let out a meowl, aroused to the point of rapture by his rampant self pleasuring, but of course I distracted the silly straight bastard and he let go of his cock like it was an electric eel and looked at me all guilty. I was determined to be a gentlecat though.

"Go on mate...I don't mind."

There is such a thing as heroic understatement. I think I managed heroism quite well then.

"You...you sure...?"

I gave his shoulder a little awkward kiss, and he let out the sweetest nicker. He had discarded his top after we came in, which was probably good for the furniture given how much colt sweat it had ingested, and I felt the soft hairs of his coat on my lips. They tingled, and I wanted to lick so much it hurt. Instead I leaned back, the model of an unassuming gay tiger unwilling to trespass my straight bud's personal space, and bit my tongue to stop a sigh.

"Yeah, go ahead. I might...ahhh...wait a bit though..."

So I watched, listening to the sound of bad straight porn, and then they disappeared as if by magic, as other sounds took over. The slick sound of colt hand on shaft, precum lubricating the strokes, and the gasps and moans of a colt enjoying his own body. I couldn't take it any more.

Turning to my side, I saw him still watching, half-lidded now, his tongue right out, sweat dripping from his forelock. His muscles were taut, the pecs and abdominals standing out under his beautiful paint coat. He had a white patch right over his right pec, next to me, and I was drawn to it, unable to hold back. I retained a shred of discretion though, and determined to use only fingers first.

His pecs had fascinated me for ages, growing as they had ever bigger and plumper as he hit the weights and hormones did their miraculous best. But best of all was his nipples. Two thick pink juicy finger sized morsels, surrounded by wide brown areolae and little rings of soft colt hairs. One thing we had in common, we both loved tits. His were still the best I have ever seen.

I sidled over to him, our thighs accidentally rubbing together, and let one finger just graze the tip of his nipple. He let out a frustrated cry, and I resigned my self to watching. Then he spoke.

"Shit Toby, retract the claws for fuck sake..."

Careless as only a sixteen year old can be, I had forgotten, my erotic stroke more rasp thanks to a decent sized kitty claw. I retracted as quickly as I could, and went for it again. He didn't draw back, didn't stop me, though he kept watching the screen.

"Oohhhhhh..."

That sound almost made me cream. His nipple hardened, fat and pink and perfect. The squelching of his strokes quickened, becoming louder. Figuring he would shoot like a cracker like me, I went in for the kill while I could.

First a sniff, drinking in the scent of colt sweat, then a lick. My tongue was rough, and I thought it would be too much, but instead it seemed to be just right for Damien. He let out a long sighing moan and sort of relaxed into the couch.

My lips parted, wanting more, and I suckled, feeling the heat of his nipple, and tasting his flesh for the first time. I was hooked.

It seemed so was he. He had stopped watching, and his head had lolled back over the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed. It was the most wonderful compliment a guy has ever given me. All he wanted was to feel.

"Ahhhhh..."

I became bolder now, tongue on the tip of his nipple as my lips slid up and down the flesh of his erect nub. My whiskers tingled, touching his chest, and I huffed out a pleasured gasp over his pec. He squirmed, and I used my paw to steady him...

And suddenly felt a horsecock in my fingers.

I hadn't intended to, just reaching for his sternum, but the length of his horsehood had undone me and instead I had found his flare, my fingers barely encircling the flesh of his tip.

His eyes opened then, and swivelled down to look at me, inscrutable. Then they closed and his nostrils flared. My heart restarted.

Nothing prepared me for the heat, or the hardness. He was steel, so much of it. I savoured the experience, assuming it would never happen again, my fingers dancing over his shaft, across his sheath. I slid one, claw carefully retracted, into his sheath, feeling the damp heat of him, then out to cup his nuts as he wiggled his ass to let his shorts fall further down his thighs.

He had his arms up now, hands behind his head, looking sightless at the ceiling, face transported in bliss. I was giving him that bliss. Me. I could feel it in his body, the tautness of his muscles, the scent of pleasure in the air, and most of all the sounds of his little gasps over the bad porno, over and over.

"Oh God...oh God...oh God..."

Wanting to make it good, I gave him everything. Long slow strokes with one paw, measuring the delectable length of his shaft, already twitching with impending release. I could feel the cumtube pulsing as I stroked.

The other paw felt his nuts, drawing tight to his body, just cupping them, supporting them, amazed at the heat and the life in those massive orbs. They danced in my paw, alive.

And all the time I sucked his nipple, but not hungrier than ever, my teeth became playful, a nibble here, a nip there, then a good old fashioned bite.

"AHHHH!"

I felt it before I smelt it, the jerk in his shaft, the tremble in his nuts, and then he came, a huge gush of colt seed, all over his chest and belly, one long streak splashing into my muzzle where it lay, close to his nipple, eyes wide in admiration of the spectacle of my stud horse in full flight.

He lay there, head back, panting for long seconds. My fingers gripped his shaft just under the flare in a death grip, unable to let go. I licked my lips absently, tasting colt. Rich, ripe, colt spunk.

"Oh God!" I gave my own cry in praise of the deity, but unlike him, I only managed one.

And I came, in buckets, into my shorts. My body convulsed, and I let out a wild roar, collapsing like him, breathless against the couch.

Well, I told you I was a sprinter and not a distance athlete.

Then he laughed, a musical, cute laugh, mixed with a nicker, and he rubbed his big hand over the spreading wet patch in my groin. That drew another roar, and another shot of cum.

"Fucking hell Toby...you need to learn some control mate..."

I looked into those big green eyes, wondering at the potential double meaning, as he winked and stood up, heading for the shower. And I watched the straight porn, suddenly aroused by its cheesy horribleness, remembering the feel of a colt cock twitching in my paw at the moment of release.

He came out wet, a towel around his waist, mane all frizzy, and sat down beside me again.

"Want to watch some footy?"

"Huh."

I was disappointed, and not a little pissed off. Wham bam thank you tiger. I know the signs now, the signs of uncertain straight boy, but not then. I should have realised him being there, in the towel, spoke volumes and let him come on at his own pace. Instead I gave him the silent treatment.

Still, that night, I replayed the afternoon in my mind, jacking out three more loads before I could sleep, all to the soundtrack of bad guitar and fake moans from some cheetah chick.

Did we do anything else? Well...that is for another time maybe. For tonight I have a hot date with a guy I met at the gym, straight but a little bi-curious, a big bruising wolf builder. And I have some straight porn already loaded, ready to go. And if he thinks I'm doing it for him, so much the better.