FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Kahnso's mansion wasn't exactly the kind of place Christine expected it to be. The place was immaculate and moody, full of black and burgundy like something from a vampire's castle. Monuments to the singer's ego stood in the foyer, marble effigies with fully-modeled breasts and sneering grins, yet even that was tasteful when compared to the rec room where platinum and gold albums covered the walls like photos of smiling children in a doting grandmother's sewing room. Christine nevertheless liked the wealth and the space, but she happened to particularly like the singer herself.

"What do you think, baby?" the singer asked, her grin huge and toothy. "Check it out! Fucking foosball right here, and a full-size bar over that way. You can party when-the-fuck-ever as long as you get your work done. I don't give a shit."

The shark affected a coy smile. She clasped her hands behind her back and let her tailfin sway. "Pretty sweet deal," she admitted with a nod. Her black hair bounced, though with nowhere the same volume as Kahnso's somewhat curled, incredibly teased blonde coif. Christine preferred hers smooth and straight. "All this room and board, all that good stuff, and all you want me to do is keep the pool PH balanced and clean, huh? Now, why do I get the feeling there's gonna be something else to this job?"

Kahnso sneered. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and for the first time, Christine felt mildly threatened by the muscular woman. "Are you trying to say I'm troublesome?" Kahnso asked. Her tail swished deviously. "Listen, Christine - or, what, can I call you Chris?"

"Christine or Chrissie," the shark said firmly. "Rather like just Christine. Who doesn't like sharing a name with a murderous Plymouth Fury?"

"I thought that sounded familiar," Kahnso muttered. Her chain of thought had been broken. She brushed past the shark, plush tail tickling her where her tank-top left soft gray hide partly bare. "Come over here, you got any drink preferences?" the vixen asked affably. "Let's see if I can remember how to mix."

Christine followed, grinning. "I'm not much of a day drinker, so, I don't know. Screwdriver? Anyway," she took a seat on one of the high stools and leaned heavily on the counter, her fin jutting into the air like a handle, "what were you saying earlier? About you being troublesome?" She smiled wanly. "Are you troublesome, Kahnso?"

"Oh, that." The fox snickered and set down a glass for the shark. Richly-colored blue flames were inlaid in its sides, giving it the appearance of stained glass. Along with a measure of vodka, she put in a splash of orange juice and a few ice cubes. Christine sipped it boredly. "I guess you'll be in for some overtime. Hold my hair when I puke, occasionally. Help run off shitheads now and then. Maybe I'll just wanna work out and have you spot for me. You work out, right?"

"I jog," the pretty shark said. Muscle tone creased her taut hide, subtle yet present. Her body was far more athletic than muscular. "Well. The beachfront stuff is starting to slow down. Nobody's in the market for surf shack sundries anymore. I guess I'll give you a tentative yes."

Kahnso joined Christine with a screwdriver of her own, though hers had barely a splash of juice in it. She downed it in one gulp and clinked the glass - which was also decorated with blue flames - sharply against the counter, leaving Christine surprised it didn't shatter. "Good," the vixen said through some small strain. "You can start whenever."

Whenever turned out to be that night. Christine showed up with the clothes on her back and a duffel bag in her hand, and she was greeted by Kahnso in a thick terrycloth bathrobe, looking freshly bathed as well as wide awake despite the hour. "Chrissie!" the vixen exclaimed, grinning big and wide. "Couldn't resist me, baby?"

"Oh, you know," the shark said on her way inside, "I'm eager to clean that pool of yours."

"Fuck the pool, you can take care of it tomorrow. C'mon, I'll show you where you're sleeping. I think you're gonna dig it - I call it the guest hole!"

The guest hole was on the second floor, up the hallway from Kahnso's master bedroom. The size of the guest room was as large as Christine's entire beachfront property, not including the surf shack, and something about that made her feel both inadequate and as if she had now made a good career choice. Furnished in the same moody, dark way as the rest of the mansion, it seemed to be the perfect place to snooze, and the shark dropped her duffel bag heavily when her eyes fell on the bed.

Kahnso took her by the shoulder, her soft paw slipping under Christine's smooth armpit. "I wanted to show you something else! I have this kick-ass machine in my gym that-."

"I was actually thinking of catching some Z's, if that's all right with you," the shark said tiredly. "I've been on my feet all day."

The vixen frowned. For a few seconds which seemed to last at least a minute, Christine thought she could see the whole deal slipping away in a drugged-up, spoiled rockstar's fit of anger. Kahnso unhanded her slowly, even delicately, and narrowed her eyes. "All right," the vixen at last said, folding her arms. "Yeah. That's fine. If you get hungry or whatever, just come downstairs and raid the kitchen. I don't give a shit what you eat."

Christine said as she sat on the bed, "Thanks. I promise I'm not a lazy-ass. Just been a long day."

To the shark's surprise, Kahnso sat beside her. The only discomfort she felt was in the fact that the softness of the bed saw her desperately wanting sleep, something the vixen got in the way of. "Nah, I got you," Kahnso said, and in an even more shocking swerve, she pulled open her robe and let her breasts breathe. Christine stared at them, and the silence was so thick that she heard her own eyelids click as she blinked. "What?" Kahnso asked indignantly. "You got tits too, bitch."

"I do, yes," Christine admitted. "I just don't-."

"You have a dick, too. Right?"

Christine smiled. It was an embarrassed, guilty smile, like she had been caught red-handed playing with said dick. "That's-, yes?"

Kahnso grinned, leaning close. Her fangs bumped the shark's neck. "That's hot as fuck. Chicks with dicks, I mean. You use it?"

The shark eased away from Kahnso. She expected the singer to scoot after her, but she didn't. "Is this part of my job?"

Kahnso shrugged. "Want it to be? I like to fuck sometimes."

"I reiterate," Christine said firmly, but patiently, "I've been on my feet all day long. Maybe after a little rest, you and I can talk about this." She smiled politely and then lied, "I'm not sure I'm interested."

All the vixen could do was shrug again. She stood up, slipping out of the robe only to grab it by the collar and throw it over her shoulder like a towel. "Whatever you say, baby. Sleep good." She shot Christine a sharklike grin, short but wicked. "My room's just down the hall, though. You come knocking and I'll let you in, I'm sure."

Christine indulgently watched Kahnso's heart-shaped behind swish as she strode out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut at her back. She took a look at the clock before she turned off the lights and closed her eyes. It was just past eleven when her head hit the pillow.

The clock read half past two when the shark woke up again. A quick wave of panic rolled over her. Did I sleep until two in the afternoon? The panic faded into nothing as she noted the blackness outside the curtains, and she sat up in the bed with a yawn which was cute despite the sharpness, shine, and volume of her teeth. Moving smoothly in the dim light of the room, which bled down the walls from inlaid fixtures, she slipped out into the hall and moved quietly to the kitchen.

It came as little surprise to Christine that she saw Kahnso there. Like those of a puppy with a new owner, Kahnso's eyes lit up when she saw Christine, and she began her imitation shark grin. "Hey baby! You back in the land of the living for good?"

"I have seen the afterlife," the shark said dryly as she brushed past Kahnso for the fridge, "and I give it a zero out of ten. Not going back there for a while."

"Last time I shot black tar, I was dead for like five minutes. I didn't see shit. Like, no white lights, nothing. What a bunch of bullshit."

Christine found a surprising amount of healthy ingredients in Kahnso's fridge, the sight of which led her to immediately believe that the vixen had a personal chef. She settled for the room-temperature pizza on the counter and sat beside the singer as she ate. "I don't do stuff like that," the shark said with quiet conviction. "But I believe in personal liberty. If you want to poison yourself, it's your business."

Kahnso nudged the shark's ribs. "As long as I don't leave you out of a job, right?"

"I think it would be pretty rude to admit that, so I won't," Christine said, and went back to her pizza.

"Yeah, all right, very funny." The vixen slipped off her stool and sidled up behind the shark, then suddenly trapped her in a hug with those disconcertingly muscular arms of hers. The shark blinked and tightened, looking over her shoulder with an expression of minor shock. Kahnso met her with a typical sneer. "Just giving you a little squeeze! Don't like hugs?"

"Hugs are all right," Christine answered softly. "Mind the fin."

Grumbling her most seductive growl, tail swishing like a reed, Kahnso leaned over the shark and nibbled the bridge of her snout. Despite being just as feminine as Christine, Kahnso was monstrously tall and built and she left the shark feeling tiny in her embrace. "Never had sharkfin soup. Don't think I'd like it, anyway. I do dig on shark meat sometimes, though."

Christine palmed the vixen's arms and wondered to herself how much exercise such a physique took to maintain. Coyly, "Is this how subtle you usually are?"

"When you have the money I do and you've overdosed on more compounds than science can name, you quit being subtle when it comes to wanting some strange," Kahnso replied, her voice reverberating in the shark's body. "How 'bout we fuck?"

As Kahnso started to lift her off the stool, Christine realized she didn't have a choice. In her was the urge to be difficult and insist maybe she didn't want to fuck, but the vixen pulled her to her feet and started to fondle her through the thin tank top she'd been wearing all day. It was hopeless. "If you insist," the shark spoke lamely, looking down and watching Kahnso's enormous paws grope and knead her thick bust. "In the kitchen?"

"Kitchen's always good," Kahnso hissed. "Sturdy island counter right here. Look how big it is! You can lay on this thing like it's a fucking bed."

The shark chuckled, leaning back into Kahnso. She felt her crotch begin to stir, the lump in her shorts growing more obvious. "Typical rockstar mansion, I bet. Every room's got a flat surface for optimal response times."

Like she owned the shark, Kahnso felt across Christine's smooth body then clutched the incongruous lump of her cock. Christine huffed and gazed at an unseen horizon, her teeth gnashing once. "Feels like you've got something nice and big in here, babe. Like, bigger cock than most guys I fuck."

"It gets the job done," Christine said modestly, reaching around the rockstar's body. Her fingers closed around Kahnso's ass cheeks and the singer laughed, pleased by the touch. "Needless to say, I'm all right with you taking the lead."

"Who gives a shit who's leading?" The vixen, as if to illustrate how little it mattered, took her hands off the shark and draped herself over the island counter. She pulled up a knee and let it slide across the granite, leaving herself obscenely parted. As if the display weren't explicit enough, she invited the shark to the smooth split of her cuntlips when she traced their edges with a finger. "Just do whatever."

Christine wore a poker face, but her hands fondled the rockstar's heart-shaped ass hungrily. She kneaded, squeezed, spread them apart. Kahnso grumbled hotly, parting her lower lips to show velvet pink glistening with readiness. The shark tugged down her shorts and eased in close to the rockstar, still groping her needfully.

The shark clambered easily onto the island counter with the vixen. She prodded Kahnso with her plump shaft, the black head of which throbbed in the open air, her foreskin taut below it. She watched her work and earned an unreadable smile as she slipped into Kahnso, only to purposefully pull back, leaving her member slicked. The vixen snapped after four such teases, "Are you gonna put that thing in or what? You need fuckin' landing lights?"

"Hey now, you said to do whatever. Maybe I'm a firm believer in just-the-tip intercourse," Christine answered, her cadence polite but the sarcasm still obvious. She leaned against the sturdy vixen, shifting a knee of her own so her leg spooned into Kahnso's, and she fully entered into the singer's muff. A shudder whispered past her teeth. Her nipples jabbed into the tank top she wore and she felt suddenly overdressed. The top soon joined her shorts on the floor.

"Just the tip," Kahnso snorted, noticeably relaxing as Christine's smooth, warm body came to rest on hers. The shark was motionless, buried in her but unmoving like a post driven into the ground. She gave the shark a moment, then bucked back sharply, and with a snarl. "You gonna fuck me or what? I'm offering you a prime fuck here, and you're just laying on me!"

Nothing ever fazed Christine. Riding out a category five hurricane from her beachfront apartment didn't break her, and neither did Kahnso's bitching and moaning. She only smiled placidly, tracing little doodles in the vixen's fur as she enjoyed that deep, wet pink she had been so generously offered. "I'm gonna fuck you," she said plainly. "Don't pop a vein on me."

The vixen bucked back again, shaking but not dislodging the shark. She hissed, "Then fuck me, god dammit!"

It actually surprised Kahnso when the shark capitulated. She thought she was going to have to knock the shark over and just sit on her dick, but Christine was actually starting to do the deed. She uttered a satisfied growl, gaining a trademark sneer to go with it. Sometimes, being a bitch got things done. It didn't matter if she was dealing with a live-in pool girl or a hot-shit photographer who wanted to shoot her only when she was being some gentle, submissive kitten. Bitching got things done every time.

Christine was feeling pretty good about herself too, and she felt even better when she pulled out of Kahnso. Her cock, a delicious gray shaft with a sharp gradient to black near its glans, was slippery with the bitch singer's honey. It was downright lubricated, in fact. The shark settled herself on the island counter with confidence now, both knees firmly on the granite. "I'm gonna fuck you now," she said. And with that small warning given, the shark abruptly nudged her meat into the vixen's pink, puckered anus.

Kahnso had just begun to ask "What the fuck-?" when Christine entered her. The penetration was swift and smooth on a cushion of her own vaginal wetness, but the sudden stretch still saw her cry out in pain. "You fucking-...!" she sputtered, trailing off and gnashing her teeth monstrously. She gripped the far edge of the counter, knuckles going white under silvery blue fur. "You coulda said something!"

"I did," Christine replied with a shrug. Her smile was still a tight one, but a hint of her teeth showed. "I said I was gonna fuck you. Starting now, by the way, if you wanted another warning."

The shark didn't disappoint. She started up with grace and strength, bouncing her thick hips against the pillowy cheeks of Kahnso's rear. In line with her steady thrusts, her balls swatted the vixen's cunt, which had been left teased and disappointed. Kahnso herself certainly felt that way.

"Mmh, god. Sorry," the shark insincerely said. "Asses are just more my thing. Still have a nice pussy, though."

"Yeah, well-, yeah," Kahnso murmured, pissy and glaring at the entryway which happened to be in the direction her snout pointed. Her toes curled slightly. "You better think again if you figure this is gonna be a regular thing."

Christine cracked a full-on grin now. Her tailfin swayed and swished, and her rhythm remained smooth. Humping against a warm body like so was not unlike swimming, at least for an adept and agile swimmer like Christine. "Oh, no," she said between breaths. "Not at all, no."

"Good!" Kahnso barked, squirming on the countertop. She grumbled, whined, huffed. In some slow-moving part of her brain, she was trying to figure out if she had been the victim of a loophole. "I'm gonna... I swear to god," she groused. "You're lucky I like you."

"I sure am," Christine answered, but then she couldn't help herself anymore. She laughed, starting to pick up some necessary speed. The steady rhythm always seemed ideal at first, but when an orgasm became obvious, she always let herself be quick and, sometimes, even graceless. "I'm gonna nut inside you," she said, drawing her eyes half-lidded and her smile yet more toothy. "That okay?"

The vixen groaned petulantly. "Oh, fucking fine. Whatever. Get it over with so I can-, just do it!"

Christine let Kahnso's undisclosed activity stay unknown. She rubbed along Kahnso's taut back, not knowing where her hands were going, letting them move on autopilot. She ended up massaging Kahnso gently, palming her shoulders as the sex went on and on unrelated to her groping hands. Her balls had once felt low and soft with the heat and humidity, but now they grew taut and firm, pulling into a snug coin purse as a climax crept up on her.

"Gonna go-, go and dig around in your cunt with a vibe afterward? Turn the music up so I don't hear it?" Christine suddenly asked, almost breathless. She was grinning almost to her gums, eyes clenched shut. She didn't need to see to know how to finish up.

"Fuck you!" Kahnso sputtered, so embarrassed and enraged that she began to grin with anger. The fact that the shark was absolutely right was what made it so infuriating. "Just dump your nuts already, fish paste!"

Fish paste, that's a new one. I've got some of that right here, thought Christine. The urge to go on teasing the rockstar was nothing next to the other, much baser desires she felt. She hunkered down over Kahnso so firmly that her breasts mashed into the vixen's back and her fin jutted threateningly into the air. Breathing sharp huffs through the fox's plush fur, plugging away at her ass as if each plump cheek weren't insured for more than most people had in their life insurance policies, Christine brought herself to climax in reverent silence save for her breaths. She bucked her hips into Kahnso's butt one last time, burying her cock to the bottom. It jerked with life, and then she exploded into the vixen. Fat ropes of salty spunk gushed from her tweaking, twitching cock, baby-battering Kahnso's ass not perfectly, but considerably. And tellingly, Kahnso moaned just once before she started to squirm.

"All right, all right, you popped your wad," the vixen snorted, bucking the shark off like an agitated bull.

The shark, although not happy to have her afterglow interrupted, slipped smoothly off of the vixen and sat on the generous space the counter provided. She watched Kahnso as she straightened up and skulked around the kitchen, moving like a caged tiger to her liquor cabinet. A trail of semen oozed down the vixen's thigh while she poured, and then sharply consumed a measure of tequila.

"Hey, about that whole vibrator thing," Christine said, her smile turned on to its full charm, rather than toothiness. "I could help you out. You know. No big deal."