FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story was written for JEM as their patreon commission reward for July. It contains M/Solo sexual acts involving a consenting adult male. :3

The Art of Self-Seduction

The rest of the crew were away. Drinking. Laughing. Revelling in a surprisingly successful mission with a surprisingly hefty and seemingly hassle free paycheck at its conclusion. For once though, Rocket was not the first to barrel his way into the space-port's bar. Indeed, though he had told the rest of the crew he would only be a short while and that they should not wait for him, the furred male had little intention of joining them for quite some time. After all, he had things to do, and a very, very important person to entertain.

Himself.

With Quill's zune playing music through the Milano's interior, hooked up to its main speaker system and thus allowing the deep, bassy tones of a slow and sultry love ballad to echo all around Rocket's bedroom, he shifted from foot to foot before his mirror. Not nervous. Not embarrassed. Shuffling with purpose and with rhythm. Dancing to the music, and for his own enjoyment as he watched his small, lithe form twist and turn. His feet moving lightly across the metal deck plates, toes curling and flexing as he arched his back and flicked his tail, wiggling his leathery work-suit's ass. Then he turned, and stopped for a moment. Growling. Blushing happily as his eyes fell upon the front of his attire, not simply neatly fitted but looking rather tight all of a sudden. Stretched and taut thanks to the arousal that had sprung from him at his own behest.

"Dirty..."

Rocket growled, lip curling in absolute delight as he teased himself with that lustfully laced word, one trembling hand reaching up and unfastening the shoulder strap on one side of his attire. For a moment his head turned. He glanced to the bed, and saw a flash of rich green resting upon it. He grunted. His arousal lurched eagerly, and rather more hurriedly than the song's pacing allowed he moved his hand over to unfasten his other strap, beginning to slowly, teasingly work his jumpsuit down the length of his torso, exposing the rusty brown, grey and white peppered fur of his lean torso. His chest rising and falling visibly in his excitement as he panted, and then...

"F-filthy... furry creature..."

Words that would once have caused him to tear the face off the person speaking them no longer made him upset or angry. The embarrassment, the humiliation of hearing him referred to in that way only served to intensify his excitement. Mere weeks before he never would have imagined that this would make him feel so good. That being mocked, even by himself, could evoke any kind of active sexual response. And yet, here he was, groaning loudly as his jumpsuit slid to the floor around his ankles only to be kicked off, and like more than one of the holographic lap-dancers Rocket had purchased for some fun in times gone by, he watched his naked and obviously aroused form slink forward closer to the mirror. So close in fact that he was almost rubbing up against it, almost grinding, frotting his rigid cock against the equally hard member of the figure in the mirror.

"Look at you. S-so naughty. So naked. Like a wild animal. L-like a... a raccoon or some trash animal like that..."

He thrust out his crotch and ran his hands down over his belly, down past his hips and over his thighs, framing his engorged member and swollen, fuzzy balls as he bucked against the air, grunting and gasping as he saw droplets of pre-cum form upon his urgently twitching, desperately needy shaft.

"You'd better put some clothes on, or people will start talking. Calling you a slut. A... a shameless, needy voyeur who'd spend all day dancing for himself, or... aa-ahh... or for anyone who asked, just to feel their eyes on his burning cheeks. Their gaze on his... mmhh... oh, god..."

Rocket tore his eyes away from the mirror and the actual version of his cock throbbing urgently between his legs, kicking aside his jumpsuit and darting over to the bed where the green leather outfit that his crew had forced him to wear in the recent past lay waiting for him. He shuddered, nibbling on his bottom lip as for a moment he hesitated, feeling as though if he were to try and slip the speedo-like briefs which formed the entirety of the garment's lower half onto his body right now, he might lose control. Cum right there and then, on, in that green, tight leather attire. The male blushed and huffed loudly, shivering as he considered that given his actions of the last week or two, it wouldn't be the first time if he did.

He resisted though, temporarily at least, and waited for his heart to cease racing quite so urgently and his cock to stop throbbing with such needy desperation. Only then did he slip into the green, hooded tunic that clung so tightly to his lean form, and finally those gorgeous, smooth, tight leather briefs that someone, somewhere had thought was all that was necessary at some early stage in his post-engineered life to preserve his modesty.

Grunting with mirth and desire as he tucked his stiff cock into those entirely exposed undergarments, the bulging, stretched green leather looking utterly obscene, Rocket shook his head. No modesty was being preserved here, nor did he want it to be. He wanted to see himself in all his glory, dressed up like some sort of retro sci-fi slut for the whole galaxy to admire.

"Oh... R-Rocket..."

He growled to himself as he stumbled giddily back to the mirror. Staring. Panting as he admired himself in all his slutty, unabashedly erotic glory. The outfit was shameful in how much it exposed him, in how much it made him look like some sort of sex worker. Add that to the music playing, this entire playlist which Rocket had constructed full of all Quill's most intimate and seductive songs, and it wasn't long at all before the furred figure found himself swaying again. Showing off to himself as he posed at all sorts of lewdly curvaceous angles, turning, twisting, bending back and forth to show off his body in all its glory within the confines of his new attire. Soon that posing turned to dancing, more elaborate and intimate than before, and after that... well, after that there was only one step further to go.

Closing his eyes, Rocket imagined himself not alone. Not in his room. Still dressed in this uniform of course, but on a stage. Shoved out onto it by unseen hands that pushed at his back and slapped his leather clad ass, pushed into a spotlight and blinking as all around him he heard a murmur of voices. Whispers. Gasps. And then... then a wolf whistle. A cheer.

They loved him. This unseen crowd. This gathering of voyeurs to observe and admire him.

To them, he wasn't some freakish experiment. He wasn't some novelty to be mocked and caged like a wild beast. He was beautiful. Gorgeous and sexy. Not just desirable, but irresistible.

The music shook Rocket to his core as he danced, lost in his fantasy, hands running all over his body both clothed and bare furred, groping beneath his tunic to rub his nipples, squeezing at the bulge of his speedo-like crotch and grunting between words slipping through his lips. Some murmurs as though echoing the crowd he was imagining before him, and others more coherent and tuneful. Lyrics, as he sang along to the current music luring him into this trance-like, lustful state.

"Am I hard enough..."

He shuddered as his cock throbbed desperately within his clothes.

"A-am I rough enough..."

He snarled as he thrust his hips forward sharply, spittle flying from his lips, sharp teeth bared as he bucked and humped at the air, hands positioned teasingly, seductively behind his head to emphasise the intensity of that motion.

"Am I rich enough, I'm n-not to blind to see..."

Rocket could feel himself rising towards his peak. He could feel his balls aching. His cock straining desperately, urgently for release. Even now, so close and so needy, he didn't know what he was going to do. Whether he was going to just whip it out, stare deep into the mirror and lash his reflection with hot streaks of seed, or if he was going to just keep dancing. Keep gyrating and grinding until he filled his tight leather briefs with cum, watching the bulge twitch and watching his thick white cum drip out around the sides of the leather pocket straining to hold back his fevered arousal.

"I'll never be your beast of burden..."

He sang with a sultry growl, every bit the beast in that moment.

"So let's go home and draw the curtains. M-music on the radio... so... so come..."

His body froze, his eyes bulged, and a stranged yelp escaped the furred creature's lips as another voice rose over his own, not to mention that of the Rolling Stones ringing out over the ship's systems.

"So come on baby, make sweet looooove to me!"

Rocket turned his head, slowly as though hoping that somehow in the intervening moments a black hole would open up and swallow not just the Milano but this entire solar system just to keep what he had been caught doing from ever reaching anywhere else in the galaxy. It did no good though, and by the time his gaze finally fell upon the bedroom doorway there was no denying it. No avoiding or ignoring the faces of Star Lord, Gamora and Drax, Groot thankfully absent, peering in at him.

Having fallen silent since crooning his line to the trembling, blushing male, Quill raised an eyebrow.

"Looking good there, Rocket. And here we were thinking that you hated that uniform we made you wear that one time. If I'd known you loved it that much, I might not have returned the rest of your clothes."

In his mind, still frozen, still paralysed by absolute humiliation, Rocket considered several options in a matter of seconds. He played them out in his mind's eye, scenarios ranging from dropping to his knees and begging the trio never to speak a word of this, slamming his head as hard as he could into his mirror and feigning amnesia regarding the whole incident when he awoke, pretending to be under the control of some Thalrissian brain-slug and demanding to be made emperor of this world, or, y'know, just grabbing a gun and shooting all the other Guardians square between the eyes so that there truly were no remaining witnesses.

After all those unworkable considerations however, and the perfectly workable but not exactly cool idea of mass murder, one more thought did cross the male's mind.

He was so embarrassed. So humiliated. So overwhelmed and... and excited. Just like in his fantasies. Just like in his wildest, most passionate imaginings. He was exposed. Caught in the act. And now... now the only thing for it, was to make them love it. Just like the onlookers in his imagination, who loved his brazen, shameless charm. Who revelled in his lust, and replaced his embarrassment with pride, with self-indulgent bliss.

Rocket growled, turned away from the mirror, towards his companions, and with a new song just beginning to play in the background he began to dance once more. To sway, to thrust, to rub his body all over with trembling hands, and to meet the trio of Guardian's eyes one by one.

"You put me in this outfit..."

He rubbed his crotch, his swollen cock, and felt it strain desperately in excitement beneath his touch.

"You picked it out and watched me walk around in it, ass on show, every part of me tucked in so neatly, so obviously."

He turned and waved his tail, his ass at the trio, eyes blazing with passion as Gamora and Quill blushed visibly, and Drax murmured without any attempt to actually be quiet.

"I... was not expecting this response."

Rocket grinned, licking his lips as he stepped closer to the trio, dancing and swaying more and more tenderly, rubbing himself and thrusting his body against his hands until once again he could feel that build up, that rush of pleasure sweeping towards him, now enhanced by the feeling of wide eyes fixated, unmoving and utterly transfixed by what he was daring to do. Drax might not have expected it, none of them might have expected it, but they were getting it. And as Rocket reached out, tugged the front of his green speedo down and wrapped his free hand around the throbbing, suddenly exposed length of his cock right in front of his fellow Guardians, he growled to himself in delight. They could see him. All of him. And in that moment he saw in their eyes that he wasn't some wild animal to them now. He wasn't some experiment. He was a living, breathing, sexual being. He was hot. He was ready. And gods, he was so close.

"You made me feel this way. Y-you... you did this to me."

Rocket panted as he pumped his cock brazenly, gleefully before the other Guardians' gaze.

"And I bet right now, you wish you were even closer. Feeling it. Tasting it. Not just watching, but making me... m-making... ah. Ah!"

His eyes met with Drax. With Gamora. And finally, lingering as he saw the human male's eyes heavy and lustful as they darted between Rocket's face and the blur of a hand upon his cock, Quill himself.

Rocket howled as he began to cum, as he pumped his cock and launched no fewer than six thick, potent strings of cum across the deck between himself and the assembled audience, continuing to milk and squeeze himself even after the majority of his load had already poured forth. His heart raced, and his body shook with the intensity of the action, but there was no shame. Not any more. No embarrassment as he poured himself out in front of his companions. Just pleasure. Just satisfaction at making them see what he was capable of. And even when he was spent, pride as he stared up at them, meeting their eye contact shamelessly until one by one the other guardians murmured and made their exit.

"You may be small and fluffy, Rocket, but you have awakened my own loins with your show of manhood. I will leave now, so I may manually achieve orgasmic release myself in my own bedchamber while thinking of this act."

Drax bowed out with his announcement, Gamora staring wide eyed after him before turning back to Rocket, her green cheeks flushing a more emerald shade as the shorter male raised an eyebrow at her as though asking whether she was going to do the same.

"I... I apologise for being present for such a private moment, Rocket. I'll go, now."

She did so, leaving only Quill. The human and Rocket stared at one another, not breaking eye contact as they remained silent for almost thirty seconds. Then, just as Rocket was starting to shift a little, feeling his cock softening in his hand and not sure whether it would spoil the intensity of the moment to slip it back into his leather attire, Star Lord chuckled.

"Well played, Rocket. I guess we know where you got your name, huh?"

He glanced downwards, the longest, the thickest of Rocket's ejaculations having launched itself all the way from the tip of the male's cock to just a few inches away from the ends of Quill's boots. The two males smirked at one another, Rocket in pride, Quill in genuine admiration and respect. Not just for the display of prowess, but... for everything, really.

"Anyway, I... I should go start up the engines. We, uh... we got into a bit of a bar brawl back there. Drax might have insulted the leader of an intergalactic money laundering syndicate, and... if they figure out which ship is ours...."

Rocket snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. You should get us out of here."

Quill began to turn away, but barely made it half way around to face the corridor beyond when Rocket called out again.

"Unless..."

The human turned back to him, one eyebrow raised and a slight glow upon his cheeks.

"Y-yeah?"

Rocket said nothing more. He just walked over to his bed, pulled himself up onto it, and began to slowly unzip his rich green tunic, toes dangling, wiggling off the side of the bed as he stared right at Quill all the while.

Star Lord swallowed thickly.

He looked around at the empty corridors, and listened to the sweet, seductive songs still playing throughout the Milano's corridors. Then he looked back to Rocket, slipping out of his tunic and leaning back on the bed, propped up on his elbows with only that skimpy, speedo-like leather underwear to conceal his modesty.

"Well, t-there are a lot of ships in the port... a-and... they all looked pretty stupid..."

He murmured, trying to come up with an excuse even as he stepped into the room. His cheeks burned brighter and brighter while Rocket growled tenderly, shooting him a toothy grin from the bed. One of the human's trembling hands reached out for the wall close by, and as Rocket's paws reached down and hooked themselves around the waistband of his skimpy attire, the bedroom door swung closed with a hiss.

By Jeeves

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