FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story commission was written for Theory. It contains M/Solo masturbatory acts involving a consenting adult male, as well as hyper/cock growth and autofellatio. :3

A Private Blend

Caesar leaned back in his chair, placing his hands over his eyes and rubbing at them with the padded flesh of his palms. He stretched his hands out over his head and lifted his feet off the floor, back arching as a soft groan escaped him. All day he'd been at this project, and he was just starting to make progress. The fox looked back to the computer screen with a sigh. Eleven at night. He knew he should keep going, he knew he should take the opportunity to make progress while it was fresh in his mind, at least establish the idea that now seemed workable within the programme's design so that tomorrow he could return and not risk losing track of what his concept had been. But... god, he was already pretty damn tired, and last time he'd checked the only coffee or soda left in the apartment had been...

He paused for a moment in thought, then shook his head.

No. He couldn't. It wasn't his to use. Hell, it was even labelled specifically to prevent anyone else from drinking it, and since he and Theory were the only two in the apartment, that label was purely for his benefit.

And yet...

Pushing his chair back and spinning around within it so that he was now facing away from the desk and towards his bedroom door, Caesar pulled himself to his feet and padded wearily out to the kitchen. He checked each cupboard first, making sure that there wasn't a tub of instant coffee granules hiding somewhere or a bottle of cola stuffed into the back of a cupboard absent-mindedly after a shopping trip. But no. Nothing. Thus he made his way towards the refrigerator. He walked guiltily, knowing full well what he was approaching it to do and yet somehow trying to act as though he was still looking for an alternative.

The fox pulled open the fridge door, scanned the interior briefly and entirely in vain for any cans or bottles of anything remotely sugary or caffeinated, before finally turning his gaze to the interior of the door itself.

There it was. In a clear plastic bottle within the door's shelving, sitting as it had been for more than a day now beside their milk. Had it not been for the total lack of packaging and the permanent black marker pen scrawled on the exterior of the plastic this could easily have passed as one of those new chilled mocha type drinks which some coffee chains and stores sold nowadays. Nevertheless, unmarked and hand labelled bottle or not, the writing upon its surface still drew in the weary fox like the most successful marketing slogan of all time.

'Hyper-Active Coffee Blend. Do Not Drink!'

Caesar pulled the bottle out from the door, relishing the cool feeling of the firm plastic against his hands, itself refreshing and re-invigorating. The days were getting warmer and being stuck inside coding all day was not entirely pleasant when you could see bright sunshine and hear people enjoying the beautiful weather out on the street beyond, but a cool drink sure would hit the spot right now even if it had been a few hours since the sun had set for the day and the air had grown at least a little cooler. The fox chuckled. Who was he trying to sell on his reasoning? Himself? He knew it was wrong. He knew he might well incur a talking to from his room-mate for so obviously violating the unspoken room-mate's code of 'thou shalt not toucheth thine room-mate's labelled food in thine refrigerator'. But he needed a pick-me-up so very badly right now in order to keep on going for just a couple more hours. And if this coffee was as strong as the label appeared to claim... it was precisely what he needed.

A minute or so later, his decision made, Caesar sat back down at his desk with the bottle in one hand and a glass with a few ice cubes in it in the other. He had no desire to go overboard. There was no need for him to drink the whole thing of his room-mate's coffee if indeed an espresso shot's worth or something would do the job. Thus he poured an inch or so of the rather thick, creamy brown liquid into the glass, re-fastened the lid, and drew it to his nose for a testing sniff.

He inhaled, and his eyes widened. Caesar barely had time to set the glass down, turn away from the desk and cover his face in his hands before he sneezed violently, his nostrils simply overwhelmed by the intensity of the rich, savoury coffee scent that had come pouring up from within the glass.

"H-holy shit..."

Laughing as he turned back around and plucked the glass up again, Caesar sniffed a second time, a little less deeply and at a slightly more extended range this time around. The smell was so intensely packed with everything he associated with coffee, it was almost impossible to believe that he wasn't sitting in the middle of a coffee shop, or burying his face in a bean-grinder while it worked. It was like... like beef jerky, the way that somehow a hundred grams of jerky had started as more than double that of beef. Somehow, despite this coffee obviously having been diluted in liquid form to its current creamy state, it smelled like the volume of the coffee itself far exceeded the liquid in which it was now suspended.

And even as he considered that, even as he wondered how such a strong blend could even be possible without pumping it full of additional caffeine, he was raising the glass to his lips. Taking that first sip, and...

Once again his eyes widened. The fox chuckled, and he took another sip. Then another.

It was strong. Holy shit, was it strong. But, it was also kind of delicious. The coffee was just the right amount of bitter, with a slight caramel toffee sweetness mingled in that didn't counteract but certainly complimented the lingering bitterness. Caesar knew it was stupid to even consider that the coffee could already be having a physiological effect upon him, but right from that moment, as soon as the liquid had first trickled down the back of his throat, he swore that he felt more energetic. And physiological or merely psychological from the associations that coffee possessed, if it helped him stay awake and able to work for a few hours longer, that was fine by the fox.

Caesar got back to work, and for about fifteen minutes he found himself as focused and eager to get his work done as he had ever been. The fox's fingers seemed to fly across the keyboard almost faster than the coding he was typing could appear on the screen, and while that may have been a slight exaggeration it definitely wasn't one to say that in those fifteen minutes Caesar made more progress than in the first hour of work he had done when he began earlier that day. He continued, not touching the coffee again simply because it didn't seem necessary, until a thought other than those of coding slipped through his mind. Only then did he pause and take another sip, not frowning at the brief moment of mental distraction, but chuckling as he reached down between his legs with his free hand and adjusted his trousers, feeling the length of his arousal within beginning to protrude from his sheath.

"I wanted my mind to wake up..."

He smirked as he murmured to himself, not entirely sure why his body had chosen this moment to express its physical arousal, but fully intent on ignoring it for the time being at least. He might have enjoyed sex and masturbation as much as most any guy, but he had work to do and that came first.

At least, that was what he thought for about another twenty or perhaps twenty five minutes, until a soft but intense growl of frustration slipped through his lips and he sat back from the keyboard again.

"C'mon, Caesar. Focus. Get your mind out of the gutter and back on the job."

He stared down at his crotch again, shuddering and blushing slightly as he watched the outline of his six inch cock strain and twitch against the fabric of his trousers. The fox didn't touch himself though. Didn't indulge himself in even the smallest regard. He simply pulled himself back in, snatched up the glass from the desk and downed the last few sips worth of coffee within, determined to get his mind back on track and to make some more progress before either his sleepiness returned or he finally succumbed to the allure of a more physically satisfying distraction.

In the next half hour, Caesar's productivity both increased and decreased dramatically. The decrease came in regard to his coding efforts. Every letter he typed was an effort, every time he had to think of a command or where to begin a new line of code, it took him far far longer than it should have. It wasn't that he was tired again. It wasn't that the coffee had stopped working. Far from it. His mind was absolutely racing with thoughts and ideas. The problem was that he had been hijacked. His attention, his focus had been stolen away from the coding he had initially sought to achieve, and instead every free moment when he wasn't actively and desperately trying to keep his mind on matters of programming, he was thinking about sex. About wanting sex. About needing it. About having it. He thought of partners he'd had, partners he could only imagine having. And of course, more than any of that, he thought of simple and swift self-gratification which required no partner.

It was only after several minutes of sitting almost perfectly still at the computer however, hands upon the keyboard but fingers unmoving, eyes glazed and unfocused as they stared at the screen but saw nothing but the fantasies rushing through Caesar's mind, that the fox gave into his desires. He pushed himself back from the desk with a growl of frustration, and began to immediately unbutton and un-zip his dark slacks. He tugged them and his underwear unceremoniously down beyond his knees, staring at his cock where it stood proud and erect above his thickened and swollen sheath, shuddering slightly as before his gaze it strained urgently and began to dribble a little stream of translucent pre-cum down its underside.

It looked bigger than normal. It was probably just his mind playing tricks on him in its horny state. Some strange sort of self-indulgent greed making him feel that he was somehow hotter and sexier than he actually was to further excite and entice him into allowing his body release. If it was some sort of trick though, it was a pretty damn convincing one. Caesar gasped as he wrapped a hand around his cock and began to pump it slowly at first, relishing not only the intensity of each sensation now that he was finally granting his body what it felt like it had been waiting an eternity to achieve, but how thick his cock felt in his hand. How big it looked, the head protruding out beyond the range of his fingers more than it normally seemed to when he held it in this way.

He stroked faster, leaning back in his chair as his free hand un-buttoned his shirt. More than once in the past he'd ruined a perfectly wearable shirt with an over-zealous orgasm, and today it felt like whatever was coming had been waiting a lot longer than in his rational mind Caesar knew to be true. Only that morning he had jerked off in the shower, yet his balls felt heavy and full, his whole body reacting as though it had been days, maybe even weeks since the last time he had given in and sought to satisfy his sexual urges.

The fox's moans came faster and faster, louder and more obscenely lewd as he jerked himself with shameless passion and hunger. With his shirt now open at the front he tilted his cock back towards himself, almost tempting and taunting his body to do its best, to coat his chest in thick ribbons of his own cum. His legs stretched out ahead of him, toes curling as his tail thumped loudly against the back of the chair in what limited mobility it possessed right now. He was getting so close. His breath was ragged. His eyes moved between sightlessly wide and heavy lidded, everything in his mind a total haze of pleasure and energetic, eager desire.

Finally his head snapped back. His muzzle fell wide open, and with a strangled, giddy yelp, Caesar began to cum.

"O-ohh! Shit!"

He cried out in ecstasy of course, but in shock too at just how good it felt as he began to let loose. Thick streaks of his seed began to launch upward from his cock as it strained and flexed urgently within his grip, far more abundant and voluminous than they had any right to be. They coated his chest of course, painting his lean, toned stomach and the white fuzz upon both that and his upper torso, but these shots were far more powerful than any that Caesar had felt or in any way experienced himself letting loose before. His initial cry of shock had come as the first shot of his seed hit the underside of his chin and splattered up across one cheek, and before he was done several more waves of his almost impossibly productive high had launched themselves far enough upward to bring themselves raining down all over his face.

By the time he was spent, nearly thirty solid seconds of orgasmic pleasure later, Caesar was shaking with fatigue. He was lying limp in his chair, panting, blushing, huffing loudly as he looked down himself and saw his cock still standing erect, dribbling a few last residual spurts of cum while the rest of his body lay coated in its aftermath. It took another five minutes before he was coherent and together enough once more to get up, grab a towel and pat himself dry and as clean as he could get, and another five before his hands stopped shaking enough for him to pull himself back up to the desk, open up the coffee still resting upon its surface and pour another half glass-full for himself.

"Okay. Another pick me up, then back to work. No distractions this time."

He gulped down several mouthfuls of the coffee in quick succession, and as that almost immediate psychological boost kicked in Caesar put himself back on the job. This time however, determined to keep his focus at its maximum, he left himself enough coffee to keep on sipping at it as he worked. Once more his fingers began to fly across the keyboard. Once more his mind was alive and eager to get to work, and for a short while the fox was in total and complete control of his mind and the task at hand... even if all the while he was at least somewhat aware of the fact that even since he'd cum, and even since he'd re-dressed himself, his cock was still hard. Still straining to be contained by his underwear and his trousers beyond, with a slight shiny wet spot beginning to form and spread where his head was pressed up against the fabric of his slacks.

Caesar made another full thirty minutes of progress before once again he was stopped in his tracks by a fresh resurgence of arousal, stronger and more devastatingly intense than ever. By now he knew that something was amiss, but in that moment he was too horny, too worked up and desperate to do anything but follow along with the demands of his body. This time around he didn't even pretend that he was just trying to take a quick and casual fap-break before getting back to work. He stripped entirely. He groaned in embarrassment, in pride, in overwhelmed lust as he wrapped his hands... both of them, around the ten or eleven inches of thick meaty cock protruding from his sheath, and even as somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice asked him how it was possible that he had gotten so big so fast, he was already lost in the incredible sensations of a two-handed jerk off.

"Y-yeah... ohh fuck... yeah!"

The fox thrust up against his own hands rapid strokes, occasionally allowing himself to deal with just one hand furiously rubbing at the length of his increasingly monstrous member when the other hand was busily reaching down to fondle his balls, themselves swollen and engorged to an obscenely large and wonderful size. He barely glanced at the computer screen, he barely looked anywhere aside from directly at his throbbing crotch, not even considering any visual assistance to his pleasure. He didn't need porn to look at, no matter how focused he was on making this approaching orgasm the most incredible one it could possibly be. For right then and there, feeling as he currently felt, nothing could be hotter to him than the sight of his own glorious and impossibly huge cock.

"Cumming! I... aaa-aaahhhfuck! Yes!"

Before long thick cascades of cum were flying through the air as Caesar jerked himself in a frenzy all the way through his second climax, again feeling as though it had been an eternity since his last and watching as his body somehow produced more and more than it had the first time around that night, despite having supposedly been drained barely forty minutes before. Caesar felt his own cum raining down upon and around him. He felt it on his chest. His face. His hands. His legs. Everywhere. He watched as it stained the chair upon which he was seated, as it rained down upon his discarded clothes close by, and even despite having turned away from the computer and the desk for this exact reason he watched streaks of his cum hitting the screen and slowly, thickly rolling down its LCD surface.

Even when Caesar stopped cumming though, he didn't truly stop. Unlike last time, he didn't feel satisfied. He didn't feel spent. And as he squeezed his cock and stroked it a few more times to coax out those last few trickles of his seed that he could almost feel lingering within, he gasped not in over-stimulated anguish, but in pleasure. It still felt good.

"F-fuck..."

He was exhausted. Drained physically, far too tired to possibly go through that again right away. But, he could. His body was telling him, promising him, perhaps even slightly tempting him to do so. And if there was a way to make that possible...

Caesar looked at the still half full bottle of coffee upon the desk. He shuddered and growled as he read the label again. Or more importantly, the last part.

'Do Not Drink!'

It was his room-mate's coffee. He couldn't drink it all. He shouldn't have drunk any of it.

But... god, if it could give him the energy to feel that way again, right now...?

Less than thirty seconds later, Caesar dropped the empty bottle to the floor by his side, gasping and panting as the last drops of the rich, potent liquid disappeared down his throat and began to work their magic upon his body. Not just waking him up, not just reinvigorating him, but improving him. Granting him exactly what the bottle had promised. Not hyperactivity, as Caesar had first read and assumed, but hyper-activity.

Before his eyes, even as he rubbed and squeezed and masturbated himself more and more with the renewed surge of energy now powering his actions, Caesar watched his cock grow. He watched it swell and bulge and thicken and lengthen until it surpassed a foot in length. Then a foot and a half. In less than a minute, with all that coffee downed at once powering the change, he watched as his cock swelled to a two foot monster, his balls swelling to keep in proportion with it all the while. And the larger it grew, the more sensitive it became. The larger it grew, the more overwhelming the need for yet further satisfaction grew inside of Caesar, until finally, by the time it was done growing at just over twenty five inches in length from sheathed base to dribbling tip, there was only one thing that the fox could think of doing that would possibly be even close to enough.

He pulled the chair out way, way away from the desk. He tumbled forward off it, falling to his knees and then to his side upon the bedroom floor.

He twisted his body around, craning his neck downward as he thrust his legs up, and as the tip of his hyper-engorged cock soon found itself meeting with the tip of his tongue, then the moistened and welcoming embrace of his muzzle's lips, Caesar let slip a gurgling, soon deeply muffled howl of pleasure while he began to suck upon himself. The fox gasped and whined happily around his cock as he began to drink down thick bursts of pre-cum almost as potent and sizeable in quantity as the release of his first orgasm of that night. He felt his hips bucking harder and harder, thrusting more of his cock into his own mouth until before long his tip was pressed against the back of his throat, Caesar's body not even gagging once as it hungrily sucked and lapped more eagerly the more it was offered.

There wasn't even really a build up to the fox's orgasm this time. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming it was almost like he'd been cumming right from the start, so when he actually did cum and the pleasure still leapt up to a height equally high above anything he'd been feeling so far, Caesar saw stars explode in front of his vision and was barely able to maintain consciousness, never mind concentration on what he was doing. Floods of cum poured down his throat, but more still overflowed and gushed, dripped from his huffing, gurgling maw. All the while though his hips kept bucking and his neck bobbing, all parts of his body focused on drawing every last possible drop of pleasure and seed from that climax as it tore through him.

He didn't stop at just one though. Or two. Caesar had no intention of stopping until such a time as his body made him stop either through fatigue, over-sensitivity or some other enforced means of preventing him from achieving any further pleasure. Thus he kept going. Kept on suckling upon himself and humping at his own maw, hands almost constantly in contact with his heavy balls, supporting and squeezing them, unable to truly drain them dry but trying with everything he possessed to do so anyway.

The computer sat forgotten close by as Caesar came and came and came, his body stained, the floor of the bedroom around him becoming increasingly wet with streaks and outright puddles of the cum overflowing and escaping from his gurgling, slurping maw. Caesar's coding was no longer important. He only had one job now. To keep himself cumming. And cumming. And...

***********

It was almost 3am before Theory arrived home.

They padded into the apartment, closing the door quietly despite still seeing a sliver of light emanating from under Caesar's door. From there they moved to the kitchen, and to the fridge in search of a late night snack before bed. Just something light. A slice of ham if there was a packet open. A chunk of cheese, or...

Their eyes widened as they opened the refrigerator door and immediately noticed something. Or rather, the absence of something.

Through the kitchen wall, just a few seconds later, they heard a deep, thick, wet gurgle of pure lust.

Theory grinned, chuckling to themselves softly as they rose to their feet, closed the fridge door and began to walk back out of the kitchen. They stepped back into the apartment hallway and towards their room-mate's bedroom door, grinning wider and wider as another muffled cry erupted from within, the scent of sex, of cum now noticeably thick in the air alongside something else. Something slightly bitter, yet sweet at the same time.

The scent of coffee.

Theory grinned, opened the bedroom door, and as a louder gurgling howl of pleasure erupted from within, they began to take off their clothes.

By Jeeves

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