FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"BEAR-ING THE BRUNT; SENATOR CAUGHT IN SEX SCANDAL"

"SEN. CONNOR CHEATING ON WIFE WITH HORNED SHE-DEVIL!"

"STATE ASKS ROB CONNOR TO STEP DOWN"

Dave buried his head in his paws. How? How could this happen? He did everything the senator wanted. He found the flash drive with the sex tapes on it hidden inside the horse dildo, and handed it right to him. How did the tapes go public? Did the bear release them himself? Why? Senator Connor knew it would ruin his family and his career.

Unless the seductress Casey--or her boss, the Matchmaker--had already made copies of it, and had only been waiting for someone to try to retrieve them.

Dave's stomach felt like someone had reached in and twisted it completely around. Was all this his fault? Did he mess it up himself, or was he set up to fail? The senator had been so happy when the fox had handed him the tapes--what would he think now?

And what of Allison, who put him on the case in the first place? This was the first assignment Dave had every truly failed, and it was the most important one yet. Could he be fired? What would happen to Discreet Adult Detective Services?

The brown fox growled and dragged himself out of bed. Maybe some coffee would make him feel better.

Dressed in only his shorts, he went to the bathroom, selected a mocha-flavored one-time-use plastic cup, put his mug underneath the shiny machine, and waited. Dave gave a heavy sigh. The coffee maker had been payment from Allison for the successful completion of his first case. It felt wrong using it after his first defeat.

Just as mocha started dripping into the mug, Dave heard a light knock from the door. He groaned. It was probably Allison, here to berate him on the catastrophic failure. Tail between his legs, he trudged to the door, unlatched it, and pulled it open.

Instead of an irate otter, he saw hooves poking out from beneath black dress pants. His gaze swept upward. Cummerbund, pleated shirt, tux jacket, bowtie, and on top, the head of a well-groomed white horse with black lips, a black nose, and a silver mane. The visitor's ears were back against his head, and he looked at the smaller fox and the hotel room beyond the door timidly.

"Pardon me," said the horse, "but are you Dave?"

The fox was tempted to say no. He nodded wearily. In moving his head, he noticed the large bulge in the equine's pants. Dave realized he was still only wearing shorts.

"Excellent. I was told I could find you in room 122." He pulled a letter from his pocket. "My Master requests your presence at dinner tonight."

Dave's face scrunched up. "Huh?"

The horse held the letter toward him with both paws. "Please, take it. You'll find all information relevant to the time and location inside."

Dave took the letter. In the center of the envelope was a silver cursive 'M.' He looked up at the servant. "Who's M supposed to be? The Matchmaker?"

The Andalusian horse averted his gaze. "M-my Master gave me orders not to say. He's a very private person."

"Right." The fox weighed the envelope in his paw. The paper was sturdy, well made, expensive. "I don't suppose there's any refusing the Matchmaker's request?"

A panicked look came to the servant's brown eyes, but the rest of his face remained composed. "You are at liberty to do so, sir, if your schedule cannot be altered. But I'm afraid my Master insists. And when he insists, he doesn't like being refused." The horse's well-groomed tail swished nervously.

Dave wasn't sure what the Matchmaker wanted with him. To threaten him? To gloat? To show off his magnanimousness, like some spy movie villain? The fox knew he should say no. It was best to stay out of the way of people with this kind of reputation.

But a tingling sensation was slowly filling Dave's head. His mind was shaking off its slump and returning to detective mode. Who was the Matchmaker after all? What was he like? What would make a man devote his life to blackmailing others? And how did Casey get involved?

The sex scandal case was over. The Matchmaker would be his new mystery to solve.

"You can tell your master I'll be there," Dave said.

The horse breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. He will be most happy to hear the news. He asked me to tell you that you may bring your significant other, if you wish. He only asks that you two come dressed for the occasion."

"Uh," the fox said, "I don't have a suit anymore."

The equine servant pulled out a cellphone and started tapping away. "Leave that to me. Check in at the front desk at seven o'clock; I'll have the suits delivered before then." The horse smiled timidly. "The limousine will arrive at seven thirty, and we will see you at eight." He bowed slightly and started off down the hallway.

"Don't you need my measurements?" Dave called after him.

"My master already has them," the horse said.

"Wait, how?" No response. "What's your name?" Dave asked, finally stopping him.

The servant smiled and shook his head. "If you must call me something, call me 'Mr. C'. Good day, Mr. Detective." He turned his broad back to the fox and disappeared into the hallway leading to the lobby.

* * *

Warren tugged at the collar of his dress shirt again. "How am I supposed to eat if the neck is this tight?" he grumbled. "Everything's just a little too small. How is it yours fits so perfectly?"

Dave tore his eyes from the well-dressed dragon and looked at his new suit's sleeves. He lifted his arms, and the edge of the cuff sat right on his wrist. His dress pants rested lightly on his new, shiny shoes, with just one crease in the crisp pleat. The bright white shirt was soft and breathable, and the charcoal-gray suit lay against the curves of his torso tightly, but not tightly enough to restrict movement.

Everything fit perfectly. How had the Matchmaker's servant gotten his exact measurements? And if his were so exact, why did Warren's fit poorly?

The elevator they stood in was of the early 20th century style, complete with wire gate and an operator (a short iguana in a burgundy uniform who watched their every move). Brass accents around the controls, marble floors, and a set of tasteful incandescent lights above rounded out the opulent space. They were taken up to the 31st floor--the highest in the apartment building--and let out into a small coatroom. Dave and Warren stepped out, and the elevator retreated.

"I know you're curious about this 'Matchmaker' guy, but are you sure this is a good idea?" Warren asked, looking around the plain, white room.

"Absolutely not," the fox said truthfully. "I'm sure the Matchmaker didn't take kindly to me trying to interfere with his little blackmail arrangement with Senator Connor. Rich people don't seem to like poorer people meddling in their affairs."

"So why did you drag me into this?"

Dave shot him a toothy grin. "We were supposed to have a date night tonight, right?" he said. "This way, someone else is paying for dinner."

The door opened: a bovine figure loomed. With the light behind the cow, it was hard to make out facial features, but the curve of her wide hips and round breasts stood out from her silhouette. A powerful yet soft looking paw covered in tan fur thrust itself toward them. "Phones, please." It could only be Casey.

"Why do you need our phones?" the fox said.

"Running around the Matchmaker's inner sanctum with cameras? In this business, recording devices are everything. Aren't they, Dave?" she said with a smirk. "You sure took your sweet time with that horse dildo."

Dave blushed in embarrassment and handed over his phone. Warren reluctantly complied as well. Casey turned the phones off and set them on a table on the other side of the doorway. She stepped aside and motioned for them to enter.

The room before them was vast--it must have taken up the entire top floor of the building. Tasteful, expensive-looking decorations (vases, paintings, polished antiques) had been placed around the concrete room with care, making the space look classy yet inescapably urban. In the corner over there was the kitchen, to the left appeared to be an office space, and a lush living room to the right, all laid out in an open floor plan. Before them was a polished steel table twenty feet long and set for four.

Casey motioned for them to sit down at the two spots at the end of the table closest to the door. Across from them was some sort of seat--or modern art piece--that vaguely resembled an equine sitting cross-legged with its arms bound behind its back. It was jet-black in color and shiny.

"Dave, darling," a voice from behind them drawled. "How do you like my new place?"

The fox froze. No. No way. It can't be.

Dave turned and saw an otter standing behind him. He was completely naked but for his tie, yet nonchalant. His chest, chin and groin were a golden tan, while the rest of him was as milk chocolate. The red tip of the otter's penis was poking just past his sheath, and his light blue eyes sparkled mischievously in the light. He looked much thinner than Dave remembered.

Warren now turned to see the speaker. His eyes widened, lingering on the mustelid's fuzzy sack. "You're, uh..."

The otter giggled. "Yes, I admit I'm a little underdressed for the occasion, but this is how I do most of my work. Any clients who come in are either made uncomfortable or aroused. Either result is useful in business dealings."

This can't be happening, thought Dave, burying his head in his paws. This cannot be happening.

Warren's eyes returned to the otter's face. "Then you're... the Matchmaker?"

"One name among many," he replied, waving a webbed paw dismissively. "That's the one I use for business. But tonight's a more personal affair."

"You would know about affairs," Dave mumbled, barely audible.

The Matchmaker chuckled. "You don't even realize the irony there, do you?"

"I'm sorry--do you two know each other?" Warren asked, searching both the otter's and the fox's faces.

"Oh yes, darling, we go way back. As close as you are to Dave, I'm sure you've heard of me by now. Or didn't he mention poor little Grant?"

"Wait, Grant?" The dragon turned to Dave. "Grant, like your ex-husband, Grant? He's the Matchmaker!?"

The fox was silent.

The otter now went behind Dave and started rubbing the vulpine's shoulders. "Aww, don't be mad, dear. I told you I had a job in public relations. You just never cared to dig deeper than that. Now come, everyone. Dinner will get cold if we dally much longer."

The four of them sat at the table, Grant and Casey on one side (Grant in his strange, oversized chair), and Dave and Warren on the other. Casey had brought over a tender cordon bleu for everyone from the kitchen, after which she poured everyone a glass of Pinot Noir.

The only sound in the large concrete chamber was of silverware clinking against porcelain dishes. Grant ate almost daintily, cutting off small pieces and chewing them carefully. Casey was less reserved about it, cutting off larger pieces and slurping the wine. Dave finished his wine in record time but hardly touched his dish, instead choosing to glare across the table at Grant. Warren finished his dish in just a few bites, and spent long enough looking hungrily at Dave's cordon bleu that the fox quietly transferred it to the dragon's plate, where it too disappeared quickly.

"Whiskey, anyone?" Grant asked, finally breaking the long silence. "I know an artisan distiller from Japan. Small batches, smoked cherry wood barrels... No? Another time, then."

"Where's your butler?" Dave asked. "I thought he'd be joining us."

"My b-...?" Grant chuckled. "Of course. You mean Monsieur De Chair." He slapped a paw against his leather chair. To Dave and Warren's surprise, the chair grunted.

"W-what the--" the dragon stammered.

"Hmph," Dave said, crossing his arms. "I didn't know you were into bondage play, Grant."

The otter took another sip of wine. "Frankly, darling, you never asked."

"So is this who you left me for?"

Grant shook his head and smiled. "So funny how the memory distorts things, even after less than a year. No, this sexy stallion is my doctor, Dr. Philippe De Chair, one of the country's most renowned doctors and surgeons, specializing in cancer treatment."

Warren frowned. "Is his real surname De Chair?"

"Of course, darling. It's just convenient that he's also into acting as furniture."

"So you left me for a doctor because he gets a bigger paycheck, right?" Dave growled. "Or was it the bigger dick?"

The otter took another careful sip of wine. "Really, now. You thought all those times I was away without explanation I was seeing someone else? You really had that little faith in me, even after our vows? You weren't the least bit concerned something else was going on?"

The fox's eyes narrowed. "Please. You're sitting in another person's lap right now. You're the cheating bastard who broke my heart and left me nearly penniless. What other explanation could you possibly have?"

"I was dying, Dave. I had cancer."

"...What? Bullshit."

Grant pursed his lips. "Intestinal cancer, in a quite advanced stage. Monsieur De Chair here didn't think I was going to make it. As soon as I got the diagnosis I started aggressive treatment, going to the hospital every day, but nothing we tried was stopping it from spreading. At around that time, you started noticing me not being around the house as much and assumed I was cheating. I..." Grant cleared his throat. "I didn't want to break your heart telling you I wouldn't be around much longer. So I let you believe you were right so you would write me off and continue with your life.

"By then, the cancer was in both my small and large intestine, and we had just one final way to fight it: to remove 85% of my intestines. Dr. De Chair performed the procedure, and it was a success, though for the rest of my life I'll have to get daily nutrient drips from an IV to make sure my body is getting everything my remaining intestines can't get. I'm still not completely in remission, but my outlook is good. Isn't that right, Chair?" The leather chair nodded stiffly.

Dave shook his head slowly. So that's why he looked so thin. "That's... that's great. I'm glad you're on the mend."

"Yes, I'm glad, too. The day I was told I was expected to live, I was going to meet you at your hotel, invite you to dinner and tell you everything. I was going to apologize for misleading you. I felt bad about that--I really did. But before I called you, I looked you up on social media, and what did I find your new profile picture to be? You and the dragon kissing."

Dave gulped. Shit.

Grant leaned closer. "I lied to you so you wouldn't hurt as bad. I fought for you. I beat this sickness for you. And I was going to come back to you. But in just a few short months, you'd already moved on."

"Grant, I swear I--"

"So then I was alone. No support system except my live-in doctor and a few business acquaintances," he said, motioning to the chair and to Casey. "But having a doctor with you 24/7 to make sure all your IV equipment is sterile and the nutrient solution mixed correctly and to do regular blood tests and myriad of other things? That doesn't come free, and the earlier treatment and surgery certainly wasn't, either. My only job up to that point was blackmail. I was self-employed; I didn't have insurance. So the hospital bill arrives. Guess how much it was. Anyone?"

Warren cleared his throat. "Dave told me the price to prevent Senator Connor's videos from being released was $1.8 million."

"Bingo. I hired Casey here, found a perfect target, and executed my plan. The tapes were made, and the price was named. I had originally expected a family man such as Rob Connor to pay up and preserve his name. But instead he hires an amateur investigator. And not just any amateur investigator: my own ex-husband, the one who started seeing someone else while I was fighting cancer. When I saw you on that camera, digging through that bedroom..." Grant shook his head. "I'm shocked, Dave. I still am. I didn't think you could make it so personal."

"But you still got the money," Dave said, "you still paid--"

Grant pounded his fists against the table. His wine glass fell over and shattered. "There is no money! Senator Connor crossed me, so I had to release the tapes and destroy him. That's the way blackmail works. And that means I don't get paid. I still owe nearly two million dollars for cancer treatment, all thanks to you."

Warren stood up. "Rob Connor would have sent someone looking for the tapes, even if Dave had refused to do it himself. You can't blame Dave just because it happened to end that way."

"But it did end that way, my scaly replacement. And now I have to treat both of you as I would someone who doesn't pay up: I destroy you."

* * *

"Well. That could have gone better."

Dave nodded and stared out the window of the limousine. These last few months, he'd hardly thought about Grant. He had no idea what the otter had been going through. He knew they hadn't ended on the best of terms, and he'd always told himself that the divorce was Grant's fault. But now he wasn't so sure. Was he himself to blame? Should he have tried talking with Grant more? Should he have--

"Dave, did you hear what I said?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah."

"Dave," the dragon said, sliding over on the soft gray leather seat. "I can only imagine what must be going through your head. And listen. It's not your fault. Even if he was battling sickness, the fact he lied to you about something that important meant he couldn't be trusted to really open up to you. That relationship was going nowhere, and you were right to call it off."

"I guess."

"You heard how he talked about you. If he really still cared for you he wouldn't have been so harsh. And, y'know, sitting on a horse's lap. No idea how that dick is supposed to fit in there when they're doing it."

"Without 85% of his intestines, I guess it just goes straight up. Theoretically, he could take a dick of any length." There was a stereotype somewhere in there. Dave shook his head. "Funny. When we used to have sex, he was always screaming 'more, more!'. I guess he got what he always wanted."

"Hey," Warren said. He leaned in and gave Dave a long kiss. He squeezed the fox's paw. "Forget about him."

"I can't," Dave said. "Not the fact he's my ex-husband, but some of the things he said. Like that he'd 'destroy us.' If we don't take care of this, he's going to figure out some way to get us fired, or get us split up, or otherwise make us miserable for the rest of our lives."

"I don't think--"

"He will. He's already got video of me sneaking around a hotel room, and while not enough to get me fired, it's a start. Trust me, I know how determined he can be once he's set his mind to something."

It was Warren's turn to sigh and stare out the window. "So what do we do?"

"I don't know."

The speakers above them crackled to life. "Gentlemen," said the chauffeur in a small voice, "will you be going straight back to the hotel?"

They looked at each other. Warren smiled. "This is supposed to be our date night, right?" he said. He leaned over and opened the limo's mini fridge. It was well-stocked with expensive wines and liquor. "Let's have some fun. On Grant's tab."

Dave grinned. "I like the way you think." He hit the intercom to speak to the driver. "Do you have any more rides you have to give tonight?"

"Nah, you're the last one."

"I think Warren and I would like to enjoy the limo a little more. Why don't you pull over somewhere and we can have some fun? You can come back for a drink, if you like."

A pause. "Eh, what the hell. I don't work tomorrow." Dave soon felt the limo slowing down and pulling up to a curb. It looked like they were still downtown somewhere.

Warren selected a bottle of champagne and swiftly removed the foil with a claw, but when trying to take the cork out, the same claws broke the cork and left him with only a small nub. "God dammit."

"Allow me." Dave and Warren looked up. Coming through the door from the driver's compartment was a minute fennec fox in a charcoal-gray suit. His tan fur was well-groomed, and he nodded respectfully to them and held out his small paw. Warren handed the champagne to him, and he took it and pulled out a multitool. "Dom Pérignon, 2004. A hundred and eighty dollars per bottle." He twisted in the corkscrew and pulled it out with a loud pop. Before the precious liquid could fizz over onto the floor, he already had glasses ready to go and was pouring. He handed Dave and Warren a glass each, and made one for himself. "A wine this fine needs to be treated like a lady."

Dave gave it a sniff. Just smelled like champagne to him. "I'm not exactly an expert on how to treat ladies," he said.

"Neither am I," the fennec fox said. "I only dabble on that side of the pond from time to time."

Warren perked up. "Same here." He held up his glass. "To dabbling with new things. And new people."

"Here, here," Dave said. Their glasses chimed when they clinked together--they must have been made of crystal. Dave took a swig. It was crisp and fruity, and the bubbles tickled on their way down his throat.

"So what's your name?" Warren asked.

"Benjamin," the fennec said. He finished his glass on his second gulp. "Though friends call me 'Benny.' Refill, anyone?" Dave and Warren held out their glasses.

"So Benny," said Dave, "do you work for a limo company, or for Grant?"

"Who?"

"The Matchmaker."

"Oh, yes, I work for him exclusively. He pays me much better than a limo company would."

Dave nodded. It would make sense for Grant to have his own chauffeur, not only for his own transportation but to entertain wealthy people he was blackmailing. A show of wealth and power was definitely Grant's style.

"How long have you worked for him?" Warren asked. He finished off his glass and was eyeing the mini fridge for more.

"Oh, about four months now. I've driven around quite a few interesting people in that time."

Warren cocked his head. "Like who?"

"I'm not allowed to say. Non-disclosure agreement and all that."

"Right. What do you have in the fridge that's good for shots, Benny?"

The fennec opened it up and pulled out a bottle of light brown liquid with kanji on it. "The Matchmaker's favorite Japanese whiskey. Not supposed to be for shots, of course, but then again I'm not the one paying for it." He deftly took out the cork and got out three shot glasses.

"You're not going to get in trouble for this?" Dave asked.

Benny gave a sly smile. "My job is to entertain The Matchmaker's guests. I'm doing just that, aren't I?"

The shots flowed freely. For the first few minutes, Dave tried to keep up with Warren, but after his third realized the dragon had much more body mass than he did and would need twice as many to achieve the same level of buzz. Their new friend, Benny, was having at least as many as Dave was, and soon he started loosening up and being much more open.

"You two," the fennec said, "have to be some of the sexier clients I've ever driven around."

"Ah, you're just saying that," Warren said, and pulled Benny in close for a hug.

"Nah, I'm serious. Most people I drive are crusty old businesspeople. No energy, no party in them. But you two. You two. Are hot." He wiggled out of Warren's tight embrace and walked unsteadily to the bar. "Another round?" Dave and Warren voiced their assent. The fennec rummaged around for a new bottle, stealing glances now and then at his passengers. "Now that is some bulge," Benny said, pointing to Dave and blushing.

Dave looked down. He was definitely starting to feel tingly. "I... I guess?"

"You guess," Benny chided. "And you, Mr. Dragon, are you gonna be so modest?"

"No way," Warren said, and rubbed his own growing bulge. "This speaks for itself."

"Mmm, I bet it does more than that," the fennec said. He began walking toward them with a new whiskey bottle, but tripped, fell, and landed on Dave's lap.

"Ah shhhhit. Sorry, uh, you," Benny said. His nose was close to Dave's crotch. "Man... That is even bigger up close."

Dave's cock twitched involuntarily, transfixing the smaller fox. Dave glanced at Warren for permission. The dragon grinned and nodded.

"You want to see it even closer?" Dave asked. Benny nodded vigorously. Dave unzipped his fly and pulled down his underwear to reveal his pink vulpine cock sticking halfway out of his fuzzy sheath.

The fennec fox's large ears twitched. "S'like mine, but way bigger," he said, as if in a trance.

"Give 'er a sniff," Dave said, feeling uncharacteristically dominant.

Benny complied, putting his cold, wet nose on Dave's sensitive prick and inhaling deeply. He let it out with a contented sigh. "Mmf. Wish I could taste it."

Dave smiled. "What's stopping you?"

Benny opened his mouth to reply, froze, and shut it again. "Nothing, as long as e's okay with it," he said, motioning to Warren.

Dave looked over to his boyfriend, and his eyes widened. The azure dragon already had his pants unzipped and was slowly stroking his black cock from tip to base. "Hey, don't stop the show on my account," he purred.

Steadying himself on Dave's thighs, Benny leaned in and teased the pink tip with his tongue. The cock twitched and tapped Benny on the nose, startling the smaller fox. He gripped the base for better control and started again. Dave groaned as the wet tongue systematically covered every bit of exposed penis, making him shiver at the sudden cold and coaxing more cock out from the sheath.

"Mmm, yeeesssh," said Dave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Warren opening the new whiskey bottle and taking a swig with one paw, the other never leaving his own stiffening dick.

With Dave's entire cock now sticking proudly from his sheath, Benny now started rubbing the base with one paw while he lapped at Dave's tip with the other. After a few pleasurable moments, the fennec put his lips around the fox's prick and went down.

"Mmmmff..." Already he could tell this was going to be tight. Benny bobbed up and down on the first two inches rhythmically. Dave restrained himself from bucking his hips and cramming the whole thing in Benny's mouth, but the impulse was hard to fight. Already he could feel himself pushing forward slightly when the fennec went down.

Luckily, Benny wasn't going to take it slow. Soon he had half of Dave's cock sliding in and out of his mouth. The larger fox could feel his balls clenching already to send pre down the fennec's throat.

Due to his inebriated state, orgasm was building up before he was even fully hard. He tapped Benny on the shoulder. The fennec pulled away, slickened tongue lolling out of his mouth and a lewd grin on his face. "Too fast?"

"I just want to do something else before we get there," Dave said. Benny backed away as he stood up and took off his shoes and pants completely. He laid himself down on his back on the long seat of the limo and patted his lap. "Wanna ride?"

The fennec grinned and took off his own shoes and pants. Underneath were form-fitting black underwear, clearly displaying the surprisingly large bulge underneath. Benny dropped these, too; his bright red cock stood fully erect, about five inches long and already with a bulbous knot at the base.

"Damn," Dave said. "You're hung for yer size."

Benny smiled and climbed up onto Dave's chest. "Someone else looks pretty hung, too!"

Dave craned his neck. Right above his head was Warren's black cock, at full length and with the five fleshy ridges on the underside prominent. He chuckled and gave it a lick. The dragon rumbled in appreciation.

Benny maneuvered himself back onto Dave's belly and put his ass on Dave's shaft, rubbing his taint along the larger fox's length. The fennec smiled and reached for a crack in the leather seat. A cupholder? It opened up to reveal an assortment of condoms and lube. "For when the mood arises," Benny said.

"Heh. Tha happen much in y'limo?"

"Never enough." He selected a bottle of silicone-based lube and squirted a glob out onto his paw. He reached under himself and rubbed the cold gel onto Dave's eager dick. The foxed gasped--he always loved the feel of lube. Benny took his time rubbing it in, making sure it covered every surface. He applied another dose around Dave's thick knot, and one more glob for his own pucker.

He set the bottle of lube back in its place. "Watch this," he said with a smile, and pressed a button inside the compartment. The ceiling lit up a deep blue, then slowly turned to purple, then red, then the whole spectrum in a slowly pulsating light show.

"So pretty," Dave said in wonder.

"Are you ready?" Benny asked, closing the compartment.

Dave nodded. "Lessee what that tight little ass of yours can do."

Benny grinned. He reached back to get a grip on Dave's cock and guide it to its destination. Dave could feel his tip pushing against the fennec's soft entrance. "Well?" Benny said. "You gonna take me?"

Dave thrust his hips upward. Benny gasped. The fennec's hole was tight, but the lube helped him slip right in. He was worried that he'd entered too roughly, but Benny threw his head back lowered himself even farther onto his cock. It probably helped that Dave wasn't fully hard, thanks to the booze.

"Mmf," said Benny. "Big foxy." He put his paws on Dave's hips to hold them down and let him control the speed. He slowly went up and down, letting his tight taint pass over Dave's sensitive tip. Dave shuddered in pleasure. He felt dizzy.

Benny leaned over to grab a bottle without letting Dave's shaft slip out. He felt the fennec's tunnel flex with the motion, eliciting new sensations. "Another shot for the big boy?" Benny said, holding up a bottle of pale-gold tequila. Dave nodded excitedly and opened his mouth. The fennec unscrewed the cap, held the bottle a foot from Dave's head, and poured.

The alcohol burned. Tequila usually wasn't Dave's thing, but he wasn't sober enough to care. Benny mercifully stopped the stream and allowed him to swallow. The fennec handed the bottle to Warren, who took a swig and rubbed his thick cock a little faster.

"Good boys," Benny crooned. "Drinks are on the house." He leaned back and sank his hips lower. Dave moaned as the fennec's tight tunnel enveloped his length. His knot was only starting to puff up, and he could feel it tug on Benny's sphincter with each up-and-down motion.

Something loomed right over Dave's face, blocking out the dancing lights above. It was Warren's shaft. "Help me out here?" the dragon said.

The fox smiled, leaned his head back and gave it a lick. Warren rumbled in appreciation. Dave licked again, slowly coating the underside with saliva from tip to base, running his tongue over each soft, sensitive ridge. God, he wanted that thing inside him. Warren reached down and fondled his balls while Dave continued to work the shaft.

"Mind if I join in?" Benny said. The dragon smiled and beckoned. The fennec leaned forward until his chest was almost parallel with Dave's and his knees touched his chest. It was just enough to let him lap at Warren's tip and sensitive slit.

"Mmf," Warren grunted, and shivered in pleasure. Dave knew the dragon was happy enough to be a voyeur, but to have two foxes licking his cock was always better.

Benny hadn't missed a beat joining the fun, but in his new position Dave's dick wasn't penetrating as deeply. He held onto Benny's hips and thrusted upward. His knot was too thick to get inside now. But the larger fox was determined. He was going to knot this fennec. He thrust into Benny's tight hole rhythmically, clenching his abs and arching his back each time, gradually building up speed. Benny reciprocated by leaning into each thrust, making Dave's knot press harder and harder against the soft entrance. He was so close. If only his head would stop spinning.

Pre dribbled down Warren's length freely, and Dave lapped up what Benny missed. The dragon was getting close--the two foxes were working him into a frenzy. He put his large paw around the base of his shaft, where Dave could only barely reach, and started jacking himself off while the foxes continued their teasing. More pre flowed from the tip. "Fuuuck," Warren groaned. He gripped his rod tighter and went faster. His balls clenched, preparing to release the oncoming load.

Benny leaned in a little farther and put his small mouth around Warren's tip.

The dragon roared as he hit orgasm. After only two spurts, cum was already squirting from the edges of Benny's lips, and the fennec pulled away. Strings of semen shot out, hitting Benny's face, his chest, Dave's chest, the leather seats. Warren jacked off his shaft feverishly, coating the foxes with load after load of hot seed.

Benny moaned at the sensation. Dave's thrusts into him were getting more erratic, harder to keep up with. The fennec sat upright, his large ears brushing against the ceiling, and suddenly sat on Dave's dick. Dave felt his knot go in with a pop.

"Nnngh!" Benny cried out, and shot his load. He brought his paw to his dick and helped coax out each string, firing back at Warren and coating the dragon's suit with his vulpine semen. Several strings hit Dave in the chest and muzzle.

Dave moaned. Benny's tunnel was clenching down on his knot with each orgasm. It was too much to handle. Dave moaned and bucked his hips, shooting his own load into Benny. The two foxes released stream after stream of semen. Dave could feel his seed filling up the fennec's insides and start seeping out around his thick knot. He felt lightheaded. He thrust upward again and again, pounding the fennec's rear and making more semen dribble onto his groin.

Dave felt woozy as he was slowing down. Everything was spinning and getting darker, but the endorphins kept him from caring. He had a tight fox tied to his dick, and he was covered in both Benny's and Warren's hot, sticky cum. Everything felt so warm. He was sleepy. I'm just gonna close my eyes and relax, just for a little bit, he thought to himself.

The last thing he remembered was the slowly pulsating rainbow of lights on the ceiling and the mischievous grin on Benny's face above him.

* * *

The first thing Dave noticed when waking up was that he couldn't move his paws. He could wiggle his fingers fine, but something was preventing a full range of motion. Something cold and metallic. The second thing he noticed was that he was completely naked. He didn't remember taking off his suit after coming home.

The third thing he noticed is that he wasn't at home.

Dave sat up. Instant migraine. "Ahh, fuck..." He covered his eyes to block out the hateful light, and his nose brushed against the handcuffs. They felt incredibly heavy-duty, not just the I-can-break-out-of-these-if-needed handcuffs in most bondage play. Did Benny put these on? In the distance he heard shouting, laughing, footsteps on concrete, the jingling of keys. His hungover mind slowly put it together. "Fuck."

He was in jail.

***

What naughty acts will Dave's investigation lead him to next? Tune in to find out!

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, feel free to drop a fave, vote, subscription or watch. I'd really appreciate it!

---

Like what you read? Consider supporting me on Patreon! www.patreon.com/jordanhalsted