FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The night was clear. The stars twinkled above the vast black reaches of space. Neon signs, streetlights, and apartment windows shimmered in the distance, forming a kind of space of their own. For many, the glowing sights of the city were the only stars they'd ever see, and they served a similar purpose of navigation. After all, why squint towards the sky looking for Sirius, when you could look towards the skyline-dominating skyscraper with the giant sign proclaiming soft drink brands?

Lance didn't usually smoke, but today was special. He took another drag off an almost flavorless, mass-produced and cheap cigarette, and then tossed it onto the ground, quickly crushing it under a hard-soled leather shoe. He looked out towards the city, wondered, for a brief moment, about all the lives that lived there, totally disconnected from his own, completely anonymous and unknown.

He exhaled, smoke billowing from his mouth like the chimneys of the industrial district. It quickly disappeared into the fresh, cool night air. Absentmindedly, he straightened his white suit. He liked dressing sharp, it intimidated his enemies and helped seduce his lovers. It contrasted with his brown fur like snow on a winter tree.

The metropolis was still a ways away, but he saw it clearly from the winding mountain road. Between Lance and the city was Rudder Bay, which he'd have to drive around.

Not a problem.

He turned towards his car, which sat on the roadside, like an impatient child, saddened by having to stand still over unleashing the full power of its v12 engine. 0-100 in 5.3 seconds. It was such a monster it took up the entire rear of the car; didn't matter. The kind of people who drove these either didn't have families, or didn't care enough about them to bring them along. Who needed a trunk?

Lance stroked his webbed paw along the car's curves, caressing it like a lover. Truth be told, it was just a tool for him, but he was a somewhat superstitious man; treat a car like a lover, and it'll serve you well. Not that the cutting-edge Italian engineering wouldn't otherwise, but it was temperamental. Fast. Dangerous. Just the way the otter wanted it.

The door opened with a satisfying clack and closed with the same. The leather seat was still warm from before he had stopped. The car felt like a tiger, coiled up and ready to pounce in the blink of an eye. Reaching into his front pocket, Lance fished out a pair of pilot sunglasses and slid them over his muzzle, and then turned the key. The car roared to life, popup lights springing open like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue. Oh, If only you knew what was coming for you, the otter mused, and then stepped on the gas, sending his frosty white vehicle shooting off into the night.

He was the only thing on the cliff road at this hour, so he could drive fast and loose. He turned on the radio, and Danger Zone_started blasting through his overly expensive speaker setup. _Perfect.

The music was blasting as he drove, although he couldn't hear that much of it over the constant roar of the engine. Didn't matter, this wasn't a joyride. He had business to attend to. Driving like this, in a fast car at night, was almost erotic. Sensual. Like really wild sex in the bathroom of a club. Like diving off a cliff while masturbating. Lance could feel his rather bulky maleness straining against the fabric of his thousand-dollar suit. Couldn't let himself get distracted, he'd have plenty of use for that at the end of the night.

He gave his eager cock a quick rub, raising his hips from the warm leather seat to meet his paws. The temptation to stop and get some relief was difficult to resist, but ultimately, the otter preferred sinking his member into a warm and willing hole. Cumming was much more satisfying when you left a part of yourself inside someone, marking them as yours, at least temporarily. Though cumming on someone was sometimes even better, leaving behind a noticeable scent that everyone would notice.

He picked up the car phone. It was exclusive equipment; not many could afford one of these rectangular beasts for their vehicles. It was the newest model too, weighing in just below a kilogram, the lightest money could buy. Lance dialled a few numbers, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he piloted the car.

"Yes, hello?" a nervous voice answered.

"I'm almost there. Get ready," Lance replied, his phrasing terse and his tone deep and masculine. He hung up. They got the message.

He was on a highway now. It was a straight road all the way to the city, so he adjusted his seat to lean as far back as he could. Time to relax. He kept one hand on the wheel, rolling down the window with the other to get some fresh air; as figuratively hot as his ride was, it did get literally hot, and he found himself sweating. Had to cool down or he might stain his suit, and dry cleaning something this exclusive wasn't cheap.

He flew past the sign delineating city limits. With a sigh, he eased off the gas; this wasn't a night when he wanted to be chased by the cops. Although often a good sport, it was a bother when going somewhere specific. Around him, vegetation and trees were gradually replaced by industry, by project apartments, by taller and taller office buildings. His goal was on the other side, so he'd have to dive through this neon nightmare to get there.

The signs he had seen in the distance were now all around him. A visual pandemonium of red, blue, green and yellow, advertising all kinds of things from realtors to cigarettes. It all blurred together as he sped past, like the vapours after the 19th century. There were plenty of scantily-dressed beasts both male and female on the side of the street, offering services for money, and many focused on him, surely for his beautiful car and suit, expecting him to be a hungry playboy. While he wasn't normally opposed to the idea - as his erect cock gladly reminded him - tonight was a night for other things.

Modern life was excess. Sensory overload. Too much of every pleasure, to the point it made you numb to everything but the most extreme sensations. That's how it was. Everyone living on the razor's edge, desperately seeking anything to make them feel. The drugs were flooding the country, the music loud that ever, celebrating absolute decadence.

He arrived at his destination and pulled into the subterranean garage. The system scanned his license plate, and the door opened with a quiet sigh, inviting him into blackness. The garage lit up as it sensed his car in motion, and he parked in his designated spot. The lights dimmed, but glowing signs on the walls pointed him towards the elevator. He got in and punched in a code, and the elevator lurched to life.

It was slow. Painfully slow. There was no visual stimulus at all. He thought back to his car, now asleep in the garage. If only he could drive it up the elevator shaft, that'd make it more exciting. Alternatively, they could attach jet engines to the carriage. Everything else in society was fast nowadays, why were the elevators an exemption?

The doors opened and an effeminate red panda greeted him, fur as vibrant as a Miami sunset, or like the taillights of an 80s sports car. Lance force fully pushed him against a wall, and with a growl, locked lips with him, kissing him passionately while rolling his hips, grinding his fabric-clad erection against the panda's own. Feverishly, their tongues tangled with each other, caressing every inch of their mouths, breaking only for Lance to pull the panda's shirt off over his head. Lance switched his attentions to the panda's neck, licking and sucking on the sensitive skin, drawing several high-pitched moans and whines from his partner. Meanwhile, he squirmed out of his own clothes, tossing them on the floor in a pile next to the wah's, but not before snatching a packet of lube from his pocket. He tore it open while nibbling on the panda's ear, squeezing out the cool slick stuff on his fingers, and then teasing the panda's tailhole with them. He slipped inside easily enough, and he felt the panda's erection twitch against his own.

He hoisted the red panda up, holding him by his haunches and pushing his body against the wall, angling his cock for his ass, and then thrust in, simultaneously locking lips with the panda again, hungrily, like he wanted to eat the little thing whole, to taste every part of him. Even in a world of sensory overload, some things would still let you feel. This was one of them. The raging passion of two young lovers kept apart for days.

Lance thrust into the red panda's ass so hard the walls vibrated. In a normal neighbourhood, the neighbours might complain, but here, everyone was probably busy with their own drug-fuelled orgies, and besides, the apartments were very soundproof for that exact reason.

"Mmwah, please... fuck me..." moaned the panda, squeezing around the otter's length, and Lance was all too happy to oblige. The panda's walls were soft as silk around his turgid member, and with his naturally high body temperature, he was wonderful to sink ones cock into. He nuzzled into the panda's neck again and he instinctively bared his throat for the otter. It was the panda's weak spot, and they both knew it. The otter's teeth grazed the skin under the short neck fur, sending shivers down the wah's spine. Although the otter fucked him relentlessly, giving his ass a proper workout, he was a gentle lover when it came to everything else.

The otter's balls slapped into the base of the panda's striped tail with every movement. Both lovers were nearing their climaxes, having gotten fairly pent up while apart. Masturbating just didn't cut it; no matter how much you spilled your seed, you still needed to feel your lover clenching around you as you filled them up, or in the red panda's case, feel your partner's cock throbbing inside you instead of a lifeless dildo.

While he had one arm wrapped around the otter's shoulders to steady himself, the other paw was busy stroking his own red length to the rhythm set by the otter's rutting. Strings of clear precum already connected hips tip to his vivid fur, smearing off on both of their bodies. He was breathing faster and faster, his stroking growing more and more erratic. He could feel his balls starting to tighten up, preparing to coat his chest in sticky panda cum. He could sense the otter was getting close too, feeling his cock throb against his sphincter more often and more heavily, his lover's breath coming in short bursts and growly moans.

Still despite the fervour and passion, it was an affectionate act. One of not only arousal but also love, reducing their worlds to nothing but each other. Nothing outside the apartment existed as they danced their ancient dance, fulfilled impulses, urges and reflexes older than their own species. They came unbidden, every moan and every thrust hardwired into our brains since the very beginning of time, and in that act there was some solace, some shelter from the modern world.

It was a wonderful thing, but all wonderful things end. The otter grunted, biting down on the red panda's shoulder as he sped up his thrusts to a feverish pace, hammering in and out of the panda's well-used ass. Grunting and growling, he felt that familiar pressure start building up in his balls, every muscle in his body tensing up like nature just before a thunderstorm. He huffed and puffed into the panda's shoulder, which was already wet with his saliva.

With a few more desperate pushes, the otter came, digging his claws into the ground for leverage to push as deep into the panda as he could. With a heavy throb, his climax hit, spewing his heated cum into his lover's body. With every contraction, more cum shot out of his balls and into the panda.

The wah quickly joined his partner in moaning, higher-pitched whimpers in comparison to his partner's throaty, triumphant growl. His cum squirted all over his paw and chest, and his body milked at the cock inside of him for every last drop of seed.

With the otter's knees buckling under him from orgasmic bliss, both beasts sunk the floor, the panda slowly sliding down the wall. The otter's softening member slipped out of him and they ended up lying next to each other, panting and sweaty.

"Man, that was good," spoke Lance after a few minutes of recovery.

The red panda mm-hmm'd in response. Of course, he wasn't really just a random red panda; the otter knew his name, the panda being his long-term boyfriend, Tommy. It was a thing they enjoyed doing, this whole scenario. Casual sex without any of the risks, plus generally a fun way to spend the weekend. But of course, they weren't done yet. If any part of it aside from their love was real, it was that the otter had been away for a week on a business trip. That, and the fact that both loved fast cars.

"Mmh, looks like we still have a few hours left. Wanna go for a drive?" Lance asked.

Of course, there was only one possible reply to that.

After a little bit of cleaning to avoid staining the seats with any juices, or lube for that matter, they were off, once again transported a different world by the radio and, of course, the car. They drove a few miles, headed nowhere in particular. This was their thing; once every month or so; renting a fast monster of a car and pretending they lived in the 80s again. Sure, it wasn't a perfect era, but nostalgia was a powerful drug, even erotic in the right hands.

Soon enough, as the otter was shifting gears, the red panda's hand snuck to play with a different stick again, rubbing the otter's crotch, trying to get him erect and eager again. Soon enough, the otter was groaning, trying to keep his attention on the road as the panda pawed at him.

With a mischievous smirk, the panda fished his once-again hard maleness through the fly of his pants, to better get at the delicious, hot member. They were alone again, driving up some random highway outside of the city, so nobody would see their play, although the small risk of it happening was a powerful aphrodisiac for both of the males. The panda leaned over. It was his turn to be dominant; the otter had to focus on driving, which left him free to do whatever he pleased. And right now, what pleased him was taking the otter's cock into his muzzle.

He did, even though his head barely fit between the otter's body and the steering wheel. If there was one fault these old sportscars had it was the lack of space, but arousal makes a way; the otter pushed his seat as far back as it'd go, and Tommy slid his muzzle down his cock. Lance had washed himself after their previous romp, but he could still taste faint remains of semen around the tip.

Lance was fighting to ignore the warm, wet muzzle enveloping his cock, a feat that was almost impossible. The panda was somewhat of an expert at orally pleasuring his partner and quickly had him moaning with quick feathery licks, long loving slurps and the constant gentle suction, mischievously eager for a bellyful of otterseed.

Lance had slowed down to a leisurely cruising speed, but every time the panda's lips passed over his sensitive cockhead, it sent euphoric vibrations through his whole body, causing him to accidentally hit the gas. The result was a very stuttery drive, although neither of the two males noticed it, being almost entirely focused on other things.

"Just... hnh-don't spill any or we'll -hhgh- have to clean-" the otter managed.

The panda responded with an affirmative "mm", mouth never leaving Lance's wonderful maleness. He loved doing this, making his boyfriend shiver and quake, and doing it during a nightly drive in fancy car with 80s hits blasting from the speakers only made it all the sweeter; he wasn't about to let a single drop of the otter's cum go to waste. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, tongue caressing around the pre-dripping crown of the mustelid member, head bobbing up and down a little faster, and taking the shaft all the way into his throat every few seconds.

The sensation of the panda's throat constricting around his arousal almost made the otter cum right there and then despite having filled the panda's ass with his seed only an hour or so ago.

Tommy snuck his paw under the waistline of the otter's pants and begun caressing his heavy testicles as he was lavishing him with oral attention. He gave Lance's sack a gentle squeeze, rolling the heavy orbs between his fingers, so lightly it was almost ticklish, but intensely stimulating. He cupped them as if weighing them, estimating how much cum was left, and then moved further down. The otter slid down and forward in his seat to give the panda better access. His nimble fingers rubbed against Lance's taint, rubbing up and down along it in time with the movements of his head.

He could feel Lance starting to tense up again, the car swaying a bit from side to side, barely staying in their lane. If any cops had been a round they'd definitely have mistaken the driver's sexual pleasure for the alcohol-induced type. That's why they drove at night, to be able to do these special little things.

It didn't take too long for the otter to climax again. With an inarticulate moan of pleasure, his cock jumped in the panda's mouth. The first splash of seed hit the back of his mouth and he reflexively swallowed, gulping down the otter's cum. He pulled back, wanting to taste his lover, and the next few spurts of seed, watery after his recent orgasm, landed on the panda's waiting tongue. It tasted slightly salty, just a little bitter, and incredibly erotic. Tommy nursed on his lover's cock for a while after the spurts became a drool and then stopped, wanting to milk every single drop of cum out of him, both for his own pleasure and to avoid spilling any in the expensive car.

When he finally got up, he found that they'd stopped mere inches from a tree on the side of the road.

"I... phew, I think that's enough of the 80s for one night," Lance muttered, dizzy from his intense climax.

He let the panda drive the car on the way back, at a sensible speed, even though the vehicle seemed to protest, being designed to go excessively fast. It was time to return to the 2010s again; the sun was rising, drowning out the neon signs of the city as they entered it, the radio had been switched to more modern channels, and both lovers were too exhausted to pay much attention to any of it on the drive back through the town and to their apartment.

But like any good fantasy, although they all have to end, they never truly die. In a few weeks it'd be time to return to the excesses of the 80s. Although, Lance remarked, maybe he should be the one to get fucked next time.