FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Farrah liked the way her scissors clicked as they sheared through hair. It was satisfying, like the gentle snick of the dead bolt on the door. She wasn't getting that satisfying feedback as she trimmed her current and last customer for the day.

The last customer looked enough like a panda bear that Farrah, herself an American black bear, felt some ursine camaraderie at first. It wasn't until her scissors started to grip and balk that Farrah realized her client was not entirely a bear. She was part hedgehog, and her hair - if it could be called that - was composed of countless spines which did not cut easily.

"Y'know, honey, I might have to get out the bolt cutters for this hair of yours," Farrah said jovially. Joking about it made her consider the possibility.

"Quills," the hedgehog-panda - a bearhog, her family sometimes called her - said quietly. "Apologies."

The mama bear smiled at her in the mirror. "No need to apologize, sweet thing," she assured the girl. As she clipped through the ends of the spines, she made a mental note: order a new pair of scissors. "You sure are a taciturn little thing, aren't you? Well, if you don't mind me venturing a guess," she moved more easily by trimming fewer spines at a time, and the snips became more frequent, "I'd say you're not too comfy with English, are you? I hope it's not rude to say. You just don't sound like you're from around here."

"Korea," the girl said. "South Korea," as though she needed to specify.

"Mmm, South Korea, huh?" Farrah murmured, scissors now gliding through the spines. The technique, it seemed, was to trim only five to ten at a time - they were fine enough to pass as hair - and notch them into the very back of the scissors. "Lotta cool stuff there, I bet. My boy, hah, he wants to travel around. I think South Korea is on his list."

"Korea is nice," the girl answered. Her expression was as unreadable as her tone.

If the girl couldn't speak English so well, that was fine, but nobody so cold had ever sat in Farrah's chair. "Mm, yeah, I bet," Farrah said quietly. She was almost through trimming the spines. Farrah liked to chat with her customers. It was very nearly a compulsion which embarrassed her son on the days he worked in the salon with her. She reached for one last thread of conversation. "Say... now that I think of it, I didn't catch your name. Some guy friend of yours made the appointment, didn't he?"

"Friend at my apartment, repairman. Helps with English, sometimes," the girl said.

I'd say he needs to help you more, Farrah thought, and immediately felt guilty because of it.

"Name is Needle," she went on to answer, after a moment of pause. "Prefer Nee."

A smile tugged at Farrah's black jowl-lips. "Nee, huh? I can remember Nee. I'm Farrah."

The steady sound of Farrah's snips accompanied by soft clicks as the discarded pieces of quill fell to the floor like toothpicks had become so normal that the girl felt briefly ill-at-ease when it stopped. She asked uncertainly, "Trimming done?"

Farrah started to reach for the coarse brush and stopped herself; quills didn't stick to the neck and shoulders liked trimmed hairs. "Sure is," Farrah beamed, whipping off the cape. She hit the foot pedal on the chair and it slid down with an asthmatic wheeze. Needle was such a short client that the chair was as high as Farrah usually lifted it for children.

Farrah walked with the short, hoodie-wearing bearhog to the register and meandered through the transaction. She was tempted to charge the girl more because of the unique challenge she presented, but decided not to. Needle's five-dollar tip offset the sting of a new pair of scissors.

"You come on back anytime, sweetie." The bear's words dripped with Minnesotan sweetness. Her smile, both on her lips and in her eyes, was genuine and warm.

Needle cracked an exceptionally rare smile in return. She raised a paw to wave, and then slipped out into the afternoon warmth.

Farrah padded her way around the counter, locked the door, and grabbed her push broom.

Over the next four months, Needle came back to Mama Bear's Hair Care for her regular quill trims. After the third time, Farrah began to surreptitiously use scissors which were made for stripping wires rather than cutting hair. Needle would never know that her quills were being done with industrial strength.

It was during Needle's sixth visit to keep her quills trimmed to the equivalent of a bobbed haircut that she surprised Farrah. The appointment began like any other. Needle had come in, said next to nothing, and been led to the open chair by Farrah's son, a handsome, sweet teenager who greatly resembled his mother and exhibited much the same passion for hair as she did. He only went so far as to raise the chair to the height of its lift and cape her before he left, ostensibly to head home and do his homework. Farrah understood that he was actually seeing another boy.

Industrial scissors in one hand and a spray bottle in the other, Farrah took to work clipping away the dead ends of Needle's dark quills. "What do you think of my boy?" she asked smilingly, knowing Needle wouldn't have much of an opinion. "He's sweet. Sweet and smart. Wants to take over the family business. I think I might make him do your quills as his final exam, honey."

"Can try," Needle said in her flat way, which Farrah had realized long ago was her amicable tone.

"He's good," Farrah said, clipping still. "Takes after mama, that little brat does." She laughed bashfully. "Did you-, did you happen to notice how sweet he is? Oh, I shouldn't talk about it with customers, but-, hm. You're in here so often I feel like I can talk to you, even if you don't say a whole lot in return."

Needle looked into Farrah's eyes in the mirror. A bemused smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Sweet?" she asked. "He likes men."

"At least your gaydar's on point," Farrah muttered. "Well, there. I think that wraps up this sesh, sweetie. What do you thi-i-ink?"

"Good," said the bearhog with a mild nod. Cut ends of spines rolled off her caped shoulders, clattering on the floor like spilled pills. As Farrah eased off the cape, sending more bits of quill to the tile, Needle said with considerable difficulty both in language and emotion, "Would you-? Would you visit me? My home?"

The black bear smiled awkwardly. "You want me to visit your place, sweetie? What, like, just us girls?"

"Yes."

Farrah pushed the release with her foot. Needle's chair sank to the bottom of its cylinder and chuffed. "Well, sure, yeah. I don't see why not. Watch a movie, do each other's claws?"

"Mhm," Needle answered solemnly, climbing out of the chair. She looked at Farrah impassively. "Like you."

It took Farrah a moment to realize what Needle was conveying. Her awkward smile turned sweet and motherly. To the girl who stood under five feet, the six-foot-four mother bear looked even more maternal. She patted the girl on the shoulder and nodded her head. Her brown, curly locks bounced. "I like you too, sweetie. You're such a nice girl."

It was the following weekend that Farrah made time for Needle. She finished up her last appointment of the day, and when her son showed up with his backpack slung over one shoulder, she greeted him with a peck on the forehead and got a hug in return.

"There's mama's baby bear," Farrah said without irony.

"Jeez, mom," he indignantly puffed. He set down his bag and sashayed to the chairs. His hips and ass moved with the same mesmerizing femininity of his mother's. Without saying a word or asking if it should be done, he grabbed the push broom and started to sweep the cut hair into a mound.

Farrah watched him walk and work. She wondered if it was wrong to acknowledge that her son was so provocatively attractive.

"Thanks, hon." She patted his shoulder, smiling. "Lock up for me? I've got a date tonight."

The younger bear smiled patronizingly. That, Farrah thought wistfully, was one of his late father's expressions. A wave of nostalgia with the smallest taste of bitter longing washed over her.

"Another date?" he tutted. "Gosh, mom, and you tell me I can't settle on a guy."

"Oh, shut up, you little-, shut up," Farrah said, laughing and grinning. That was his father's same deadpan sense of humor. "Do what your poor mother asks for once. I'll be home late. Get yourself a pizza or have one of your friends over. Why not both?"

"Yeah, yeah. Another night neglected by mother."

Farrah smiled and smooched his forehead. "Yep. Neglected and abused. So sorry you have to watch your single mom go be a social butterfly."

The boy took the big dustpan off the wall and started to scoop up the mound he'd made. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. See you tonight."

"Be good," Farrah said sweetly. Then more sternly, "Remember to lock up. Remember that one night? We're lucky-."

"Yeah, we're lucky nobody broke in and stole the ginger hair dye. I know, mom. You'll never let me forget it."

"Never," Farrah agreed, and left with a smile on her face.

What started as a warm spring day became chilly as the sun set. Farrah got out of her car when the sun was just a red-orange glare on the horizon and the street lights had begun to come on in rows. Farrah, in capri pants and an overly snug t-shirt, was thankful for her thick pelt when she exited into the cooling night.

Farrah stepped out of the dim hallway into Needle's apartment, and immediately beamed a smile at the familiar bearhog. "Hey there, sweetie. Good to see you."

"Mhm," Needle concurred, and led Farrah into her home.

Needle's apartment was spacious and modern, but full. It was not cluttered, but arranged as a monument to nerd culture. Shelves abounded, many decorated with hand-painted figurines in model cases. Bookcases sat flush to nearly every wall, full of DVD and Blu-Ray cases of all things even remotely nerdy. Most notable were the comic books, which were framed on the walls where a normal person would hang photographs.

Farrah did a slow turn and drank in Needle's museum of an apartment. She whistled. "Gosh, girl. You're a little bit of a geek, huh?" Her eyes fell on Needle again, who had moved a few feet towards the kitchen. The girl turned and faced her expectantly. "Not that being a geek is anything bad. Could be worse. Could be into something bad, like drugs, you know?"

"Yes," Needle said politely. "Thirsty. Yes?"

"Me? I-, yeah, sure. What do you have?"

Needle looked at her uncertainly. Words eluded her. Had this conversation been in Korean, Needle could have said anything she wanted. Oh yes, I have milk, Pepsi, Mountain Dew, even a little sweet tea if you prefer, and there's a bit of soju in the pantry for special occasions. The girl settled on meekly saying, "Look," with a beckoning gesture.

The two bears soon sat down on Needle's sofa, each clutching a cup of sweet tea. Ice cubes clinked in the sweating glasses. On the girl's large, flat TV, an uninspired sitcom failed to amuse either of them.

Farrah sipped her tea a few times, then turned on her bottom and lifted a leg onto the sofa. Needle started to do the same, then simply turned her whole body and knelt on the cushions. In her overlarge hoodie, she looked to Farrah like a little girl who got to stay up late and was wearing one of her daddy's shirts as a nightie.

"D'you still wanna do each other's claws, honey?" Farrah asked with a patient smile.

"Mmm. No." Needle shook her head softly. She sipped her tea. "Do you..." Her expression soured somewhat. Her lovely eyes appeared troubled, but her lips were a minor pout. "Do you-," a pause, as she mulled over if this was exactly how to phrase it, "like comics."

"Comic books? Like-, oh, Batman? Wonder Woman?"

Needle nodded. Farrah thought a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth, but it was impossible to be sure. With as well as she knew Needle (which she acknowledged wasn't very well), she decided the girl's expression had not changed.

The mama bear cracked a grin. "Well sure, honey. Comics are pretty cool. I used to read 'em when I was, I dunno - younger than you are?" Her grin faltered into an apologetic smile and she said, "Sorry, guess I outgrew them... I do like the Marvel movies, though."

"I do," Needle said sagely. "I do too."

Needle put on one of her favorite comic book-based films for herself and Farrah to enjoy. They watched it, going through a couple glasses of tea each and most of a bag of heavily salted pretzels, which in turn made the tea go even faster.

"God, there goes my perfectly sculpted figure," Farrah sighed, pulling another palm full of tiny pretzels from the bag. "Do you eat like this all the time, honey?"

The bearhog managed the tiniest of self-conscious smiles. It was as surprising to Farrah as a jolt of static, and equally as fleeting. "Yes," she admitted.

Needle's blunt honesty - the only honesty she ever had to offer - made Farrah laugh. "Oh, honey. You're a lucky little thing." She patted her own belly, which pushed into her shirt like a small pillow under a blanket. "Best hope you keep that girly little figure, though. But me? Aw, hell. Never seemed to matter how much shrubbery I ate. Always chubby. Can't diet or exercise it away, it's stuck to me like tar."

Needle one-upped her surprisingly smile and left Farrah truly speechless. "I like it," she said, indicating not necessarily Farrah's stomach, but her body as a whole with a simple gesture. She added uncertainly, "Desirable?"

The mama bear smiled, but it was a dumb, stunned smile. Her eyelashes fluttered; her cheeks glowed. "Sugar," she managed after ten year-long seconds. "Nee, sugar... are you trying to hit on me, honey? Because, if you are, well-." She shook her head, uttered a laugh. "Well, gosh. You sure are cute about it."

Why must my English be so poor? thought Needle not in that cumbersome language, but Korean. There the language flowed like warm honey, steady and rich and beautiful. A tapestry of words she wished to share with the mama bear was stuck behind the language barrier. And so she scooted closer, putting her small, soft paw on Farrah's thigh in the most universal language she could think of.

Farrah tensed and Needle felt it even through the bear's blubbery flesh and thick pelt. The girl let off, but Farrah caught her wrist and pressed her paw back in. "Don't quit there, girl," she said lowly, and fixed Needle with a hungry gaze. "I'm up for this if you are."

In her taciturn way, Needle said, "I am," and boldly slid her paw higher. Farrah parted her stout legs and Needle slipped her digits into the crook of the mama bear's thighs. Within the cooling apartment, Farrah Kushner was exceptionally hot. Needle, biting her lip, squeezed loosely on Farrah's loins and caused the mama bear a shudder.

Farrah relaxed into the plump sofa and sighed. "Don't be shy with me. Not at all."

"Mmn." Needle nuzzled up to Farrah and slumped against the couch with her. Her blunt claws raked Farrah's loins, tickling her. Without as much difficulty as she expected in conveying her desire, Needle said to Farrah, "Touch me."

Although some motherly instinct told her it was unnecessary, Farrah said as she turned on her bottom again and leaned low to meet the bearhog nose to nose, "If anything about this bugs you, honey... you know, that usual stuff. If you're not comfy with it, let me know." She smooched Needle's lips and tittered. "Heck, pull my ears if you can't get the words to work for you. Just let me know somehow. All right?" When the blushing girl did not immediately answer, Farrah pressed her in her most matronly tone, "All right?"

"Yes."

"That's what I like to hear. A smart girl knows how to say no. Let me tell you, honey," Farrah paused and chuckled, "saying no is a good ninety percent of dealing with boys."

Needle nodded. She touched Farrah's face, her lovely snout, her cheeks. Her fingers traced through the bear's thick, brown hair reverently. "Your hair. Want to brush it. Later on."

Farrah bumped noses with Needle and smooched her again. Looking into the craning bear's cleavage was like gazing into an abyss. "Oh, you wanna brush my hair? You can do that just about anytime you want to, honey. Lo-o-ove havin' my hair brushed." She pushed Needle gently, breaking off the girl's simple, reverent touches at once. Carefully observing Needle's body language as she went, Farrah tugged up the hoodie and was bemused to find that the girl did not wear panties. She considered asking if she had been so vulnerable all the times she had shown up in the salon or if going commando was a special consideration just for this visit.

The black bear kept her questions to herself, but not her fingers. Thick but articulate, confident but fond, her digits teased the subtle lines of Needle's lower lips in ways the girl herself had never discovered on lonely nights spent masturbating. She crooned weakly for Farrah, like some young offspring crying out for its mother's attention. Farrah indulged her.

Slowly and cautiously, Farrah eased one finger into Needle. It was her concern that the girl had never been fucked before, but although Needle proved exceptionally snug even for her tiny size, she was no virgin so far as the mama bear could deduce. And what was more was that Needle was wet. Farrah smiled not as mama, but as a far more sleazy character. "Well, well, well," she began, and never finished.

"Good," Needle murmured, turning her head to glance at her TV. It was still showing one of her favorite films, and nearly at the climax to boot, but it was impossible to focus on that. She looked at Farrah again, meeting the mama bear's eyes bashfully. "Very good," she said, hoping the intensifier would spur Farrah on.

"Mhm, very good," Farrah repeated, easing back her finger. The fur on it glistened in the TV's pale light. As her snout came near the bearhog's pussy which looked so innocent yet needful, Farrah remarked, "It's been, gawd, a good five years since I did this. Sorry if I'm a little rusty at it, honey. It'll come back to me."

Any anxiety Farrah had about her own abilities was assuaged as soon as she dragged her broad, honeycomb-pillaging tongue across the delicate split of Needle's cuntlips. The quiet young woman uttered a wavering moan and her toes curled. Her fingers played with the bottom edge of her hoodie, which was faded and frayed in the very spots her fists now closed around it.

Farrah drew back her tongue and pecked her sticky, jowly lips on Needle. The kiss she gave the girl was brief, more of a tease than anything meant to pleasure the girl, but Needle cooed softly.

"Very, very good," the bearhog murmured, tugging and twisting her hoodie's edge. As Farrah went in for the next slobbering slurp, Needle sank deeper behind the language barrier. It was difficult to speak in English at the best of times. Farrah's dirty work made the urge to speak in Korean unbearably potent.

Wet, hungry smacks cut the dry air of the apartment. Farrah thought in her twenties that the sounds of cunnilingus and good, snug blowjobs could be mistaken for the vigorous enjoyment of frozen treats, but she knew better now. It was a pleasure all its own to acknowledge that every noise she made by slurping Needle's hapless pussy could only be interpreted as what it was. Knowing that neighbors might overhear this emboldened rather than embarrassed her.

"Nnh, good. That is good," Needle whimpered. Her legs squirmed and pawed around as though she were a helpless, overturned animal.

Needle was an intensely hygienic creature, but Farrah was still sharply aware of the spiny girl's unique flavor and smell. Farrah was far from a connoisseur of pussy, but she thought the girl was tasty. She murmured into Nee's slobber-caked pussylips, "You taste pretty good, honey."

"Mmh," Needle replied. Her blush was nearly luminescent. Her eyes studied no particular part of her apartment's smooth ceiling. "Mmhmm..."

Farrah slid the same digit as before deep into the bearhog. It seemed she was even tighter now, and that made Farrah grin. She pumped Needle slowly with her finger, and in time added a second fuzzy finger. Her jowly lips and thick tongue suckled and slathered the girl's box in broad strokes. It was impossible to tell if Needle was growing any more wet, but Farrah guessed that she was.

The mama bear looked past Needle's plump and heaving breasts to see her pretty, youthful face. The girl was still occupied by her study of the ceiling, and this was a clue to her pleasure all its own. Another clue was how she fidgeted, twisting and tugging on the fraying edge of her hoodie. Her toes curled at the end of her short legs.

"Mm, mmn," Needle whimpered. "Uh, close. Going to-."

Shyness rather than the language barrier stopped the next word. The big, black bear smiled broadly. Her short tail wiggled. "Good girl," she purred sweetly. More firmly than her tongue but gentler than an invading cock, Farrah fingered Needle closer and closer to her climax. The girl was snugging up inside, causing Farrah to lose some feeling in the tips of her digits. She wondered how Needle would feel to a man.

"C'mon, honey. You can cum for me. Let mama bear take good care of you." Her warm tone was the same she had used on her children, when they had been cubs with a penchant for accumulating scrapes and scuffs.

Needle was tight as a vault inside, but she had begun to squirm cutely into the older bear's fingering. "Feels good," she squeaked. Her eyelids clenched as if she were squinting away from a bright light. "Oooooh, good," the girl warbled. Her nipples poked through the thick fabric of the hoodie. She tensed and thrashed as though seizing, and then flopped before becoming utterly still against the sofa's cushions. Her quills punctured them, adding more wounds to the countless rends already in her furniture.

The bearhog entered her orgasm with a shudder. Her small, somewhat stunted legs looped around Farrah like the mama bear was a pony she was riding. Thick, offwhite honey smoothly drooled across Farrah's fingers. Her unyielding snugness gave over to spasmodic pulses, which further gave way to her usual tightness as the climax wore down and reverent afterglow subsumed her already quiet personality.

Farrah tugged her fingers free of the girl and resisted the urge to tickle her on the way out. She did nothing so vulgar as licking her fingers clean, opting for wiping them on her exposed kNeedle instead. She sat back in the sofa and gazed satisfactorily at Needle's panting, but slowly calming form.

"Needless to say, sweetie," she said, "I'm happy that you're happy." She grabbed one of Needle's small feet and toyed with her toes, causing the bearhog to giggle.

"Mmm, thank you... thank you," Needle said, still calming after her ticklish laughter.

They enjoyed what was left of the film, though they had missed most of the climax. Needle politely served Farrah more sweet tea, and Farrah started to broach the idea of painting Nee's claws after all.

That was when the girl said awkwardly, "I have-, toys. My turn?" And she gestured at Farrah's loins, worrying she hadn't been explicit enough.

Farrah worked very hard not to smile and laugh. Patronizing younger people was one of the many talents of a good mother. She said with only a small smile, "You want to do me now, sweetie? You don't have to. I'm not a boy, I don't get all pissy if I don't get off too." She winked, and Needle smiled.

Needle said firmly, "I want to."

Farrah wanted it too. She downed the last sip of her tea and set the glass back on its coaster. "All right, honey. Show me to the toys, then. I hope you know I'm a size queen, though."

The hybrid girl gave Farrah a critical look as she stood up. "Size queen?" she repeated slowly.

"I like them big," Farrah said. She stood up too and remembered just how small Needle was. Needle was having the same thought in the other direction. "Not that I mean to say, um, that I can't enjoy smaller ones. But-."

"Have big ones," the girl said, and held her small paws about a foot apart to demonstrate.

Farrah couldn't stop herself from laughing. "God, you do? What's a girl your size do with one that big, use it to stop burglars?"

Needle looked away self-consciously. "Rub with it. It hums."

A knowing smile crossed Farrah's matronly face. She rubbed Needle's head carefully, but lovingly. "Ohhh. I got you, honey. I get it. Wasn't trying to pick on you."

Needle held no grudges. She led Farrah to her bedroom, and she spent the rest of the night with mama bear.