FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The dream starts with me and some random guy in what appears to be a hybridized old-west town with some modern flare. Everything looks a bit like Saint Denise from Red Dead Redemption 2 but noticeably cleaner. I'm dressed in thick black jeans, hide boots, a conventional shirt, suspenders and a duster. My long hair, which reaches to the base of my ribcage, flows over both shoulders and my long beard is about the same. The man beside me I don’t quite remember, and for all intents and purposes, he’s an NPC in the world of my mind. Standing before a building on these old, cobblestone streets, we wait for a moment. It’s then apparent that he and I don’t actually know each other. I glance toward him and he appears nervous and I’m quickly distracted by the sound of a door opening.

Emerging from this building, which appears to be some sort of city manor, or perhaps an apartment building, are two women. The women are anthros/furries, or Voeldahn as I would call them in my many stories. Both women are mares, with blatantly obvious equine features, such as hooved feet that clop audibly on the ground as they approach. Both are at a minimum of six feet tall, and have ample busts that are visible through their very concealing Victorian era clothing. One has white fur and hair with many brown spots – research has informed me that’s called ‘leopard’ – while the other is a typical bay, brown with black hooves, ankles, hands, wrists, hair and the front of her muzzle. Both have very long, wavy hair that’s pulled up. One wears a hat that I’m sure I’ve seen in drawings, old pictures or cartoons from the 40s, with a massive peacock’s feather in it, and they both hold frilly parasols to block the warm sun.

“Well, good day to you, gentlemen!” They both say as the approach us.

“Hello, Abigail.” I say to the leopard mare. “Ma’am.” I nod at the bay.

My companion does the same, greeting them both as ma’am, because he probably isn’t familiar with either. Abigail stands before me, looking down as I’m 5’8” and at least 4-6” shorter than the mare. She nuzzles my face and kisses my cheek, telling me that she’s missed me. In the dream, I’m now aware that this is a woman I’m in an interracial/interspecies relationship with and we have gone on traditional dates before, though this is the first dream were I ever remember seeing her. I take her hand and pull her gently toward me as I lead her away. Bending my arm and jutting out an elbow, she quickly grapples onto it, as was the custom of the time. We walk as a quartet through the streets of this nameless town, which reminds me of several places I’ve been too. In retrospect, the triangular thoroughfare we traverse is a nearly perfect match to Dundee, Michigan’s downtown.

Entering a building, I purchase tickets to a “picture show”, and we pick our own seats. We are amazed that the place is more or less empty; though it’s later in the afternoon I subconsciously feel like such wonderous technology would draw more people. Taking seats near the front, the bay mare and the other human cowboy who’s with us sit a row behind. I can only assume that they want time to get to know each other. Sitting with Abigail, we watch the start of the picture, which plays a cartoony screen in vibrant colors that are very obviously inspired by the Red Dead Redemption series. The velvet image with gold and black lettering tells us the name of the picture, which is entirely animated. Abigail leans closer and speaks softly to me.

“I’ve truly missed you. It’s so nice to have you back in town.” She says.

“I’ve missed you too. Why do you think I came back?” I reply.

She grins but doesn’t respond. The look on her face is that of a shy and embarrassed “would you really inconvenience yourself for little ol’ me?!” I slide my arm around the seat in true 1950s teenager fashion, minus the fake yawning. I can hear the bay mare cooing at the sight and then egging on her date to do something similar. With only four of us in this relatively small, pitch black theater, I walk my fingers closer to her body and hook my arm around her frame. Though sturdily built, bigger and probably stronger than me, she’s not unfeminine and the mare shivers with delight as I touch her. My hand comes to rest on her right side, near the front, and I can feel the warmth of a large breast, at least a D cup, resting just over my hand.

“Well now!” She gasps, her breath shaking. “Is this how you are out on the range?”

“This is how I am in the city.” I say calmly and coolly. “You don’t want to see how I am on the range.”

She turns to look at me, her big brown eyes shimmering in the light from the projector. Leaning closer, she actively steals a kiss. I’m surprised, because in the culture of this time frame, that’s highly unusual and improper for a civilized woman. However, with the blood rushing to my loins and no longer caring about anything else, I kiss her back. This time, my hand grips her left breast, through her outfit. I gently squeeze the big, perky orb and she softly moans. She reaches over to me and places her hand on my side, sliding it down to my pants.

“I think I do want to see it.” She whispers.

“Where?” I ask.

She looks around the darkened theater, seeing only the visibly surprised bay mare and the other cowboy. She glances back at me and smiles lustfully.

“I don’t see anyone else of consequence here.”

Immediately kicking into high gear, I slide myself toward the front of my seat and pull at her. She rises out of her seat and sits atop my lap, an arm over and around me while both of her legs hang over my left leg. I can see her horse-like tail swaying quite happily as we French kiss and I fondle he breasts through her top.

“Should we?” I suddenly ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Don’t make me wait any more.” She answers between kisses.

With that as my cue, I begin removing the tied straps that hold her garment. As my own mother is a huge fan of the Victorian era, I’ve seen many Victorian style clothes in person, especially women’s; I often feel like my childhood was spent antiquing and exploring museums. With a skill on par with Abigail herself, I loosen and begin removing her clothes. It’s only now that I can hear the bay mare and the other cowboy making-out behind us. It’s as if the bay mare is in secret competition with Abigail and doesn’t want to lose, and of course the cowboy isn’t complaining. The bay mare tears at her own garments, trying to strip naked in the theater while the cowboy chuckles, asking her to slow down. I ignore them and return to my own lover, a hand stroking her muzzle as our tongues entwine. Abigail doesn’t disappoint, either. She undoes my pants, pushes off my duster and slides off my suspenders.

Standing up, Abigail removes her dress and stands naked before me. Still sitting in the chair, I rest my hands on her broad hips, kiss the soft, smooth fur of her modest belly, and then work my way down. She groans and rests a hand on my head as I kiss her groin, smelling the admittedly sweet scent of her arousal. My first girlfriend when I was a teenager had fluids that always smelled faintly floral to me, and now in my dreams and imagination that’s how every woman’s vagina smells, however true that may or may not be. I stand to my feet and push off my boots, which don’t seem to be held on by anything more than my feet. Abigail actively pushes down my pants and opens my shirt. Though it’s not period correct, I have conventional boxer-briefs on, which she promptly shoves to the ground.

Stepping out of my clothes, I take her into my arms, feeling her fur against me. We simply hold each other, swaying gently as if we were slow dancing. I now hear the cowboy groaning. I turn my eyes out of curiosity, seeing that the bay mare is naked, on her knees, and giving the equally nude cowboy oral sex. Her head bobs up and down gently as she really goes to work, and I wonder if the bay mare thinks this is some kind of race, or if she’s really that desperate for sex. Ignoring them yet again, I kiss Abigail and caress her back with my hands. She trembles with delight and I place my erection between her legs, which are longer than my own. The subtle diagonal angle causes the tip of my penis to grind against her flesh as I sway back and forth, teasing her. Her loins are dripping wet, and as hot as a furnace.

“Now what, cowboy?” She asks, as if challenging me.

I pull away, grab my duster and her dress and toss them onto the floor, which is carpeted with red velvet. As we walked in, I could feel and hear the wooden planks beneath it, so the clothing is my feeble attempt at padding the hard floor. I lean her back like we were performing a dance move, lying her gently down onto her back. Climbing over her, I can hear louder groaning, along with the bay mare’s carnal grunts. Glancing over as I place myself over my lover, Abigail, I see that the bay mare is holding onto the back of the first row of seats, her ample breasts jiggling subtly as she rides the cowboy, her back facing him. A little surprised, I raise my brow but I otherwise don’t care. I turn to Abigail and kiss her passionately.

It’s obvious to me that in this dream, I have a deeper connection with her beyond mere sex. We’ve dated before, she knows me well enough, and we’ve probably had sex before too, though not exactly in such a public place or during daylight hours. She bends her legs at the knees and I hear her hooves scraping the velvet carpeting. With a leg between hers, I move a hand down and direct her to spread hers apart. She opens herself to me, literally and figuratively. Now comfortably mounted atop her in the missionary position, I draw myself closer. I poke around her groin for a moment before feeling her nether lips on the tip of my penis. Flexing my pelvic muscles to keep my erection from undo travel, I push forward.

“Oh, God...” I grunt.

“Aahhh!” She exclaims.

Her arms wrap around me and squeeze rather tightly, smooshing my chest against her big breasts. Her legs tremble subtly as I push myself inside of her, the tip of my penis spreading her loins apart as I drive my somewhat thick member into her wet pussy. I can feel the slick flesh and the incredible heat from her vagina. Stretching her vaginal canal as I push ever deeper, I feel as though she’s searing me, or dare I say, branding. :3

“Oh, fuck. Nng. You’re as tight as ever.” I say to her, kissing her snout.

“Mmm, language, stud.” She coos.

“Apologies, ma’am.” I tease her.

Abigail giggles, a hand grabbing my buttocks and pulling. I respond by shifting my hips, swaying them gently back and forth though I’m not moving much. In effect, I’ve buried my cock deep into her pussy and am rocking it back and forth within her. I’ve found in reality that this is wonderfully effective, especially when sitting up together, and Abigail certainly loves it. Her legs squeeze against me as she tries to close them and she moans. She crosses her legs at her ankles and I begin my work. With short but firm thrusts, I pick up speed, driving my member into and out of Abigail’s mare anthro pussy. She wriggles and moans on the floor, holding me tightly. If it weren’t a loving grasp, it’d be rather constricting, but her intentions and feelings somehow make it enjoyable.

I rest my head by her left shoulder as I pump my flesh into her. My balls smack the plump, fur covered flesh of her buttocks. Her nails rake my back and we sway atop the floor as if we were one body. I can hear the bay mare and the other cowboy grunting and groaning loudly. Opening my eyes, I turn them toward the seats to see that they are now bent over them, but also running along them. The bay mare’s hands are on one cushion, her knees on another seat entirely, and the cowboy has one foot on the ground and the other on the same seat as the bay mare’s knees. He gives her furry buttocks a good, hard smack as he plows her doggystyle, a hand holding her hip. I turn my head away and neck Abigail, still working her with as much fervor as before. After several minutes of this, I reach my hands down and rest them on her buttocks, giving her perfect ass a squeeze.

“Nng! Nng! Ahh! I’m! Nnnnn! AAAGGHHH!!!” She squeals.

I can feel Abigail cumming hard, her vaginal canal clamping down on my penis like a vice. As I pull back with strokes so long that the tip nearly leaves her, I could almost describe is as pushing myself into a hot, wet, fleshy funnel. She was so tight I almost couldn’t stand it and I felt myself getting close to an orgasm. Abigail suddenly closes her legs and holds me inside of her. I can’t fight her strength, nor do I want too. I’m not quite ready to finish. She looks to me with a pleasant warmth and strokes my face and hair. Bringing her head and snout closer, we share a rather passionate kiss.

“Let me ride the cowboy.” She suddenly coos.

“As you wish, ma’am.” I tease her.

She giggles and opens her legs and I pull myself out of her. We both look down, and Abigail even cants her hips a little, tilting them upward so that she and I can thoroughly watch my cock pulling out of her tender pussy. I’m covered in a very familiar, white cream that soon turns crusty. She looks embarrassed at the evidence of her pleasure.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean too.” She apologizes.

I stroke her face, resting my hand on her chin and making her look at me for a moment.

“Why be sorry?” I ask.

I lean in and kiss her. Now even more aroused, possibly because I didn’t dislike her female cum, or possibly because I’m a bit of a romantic, she pushes me back and we trade places. The cartoon in the background takes a pure white screen, illuminating the theater. I now notice that several patrons are entering! I grow a little nervous, especially as some guy points and exclaims.

“Woo! Now that’s a show!” The shadow man cheers.

I turn to Abigail, who doesn’t even seem to notice them; if she does, she doesn’t care. Before this, she and I were almost entirely wrapped up in each other. Shaking the audience from my mind, I focus on her once more. Sitting up, she straddles me, her legs wrapping around my hips. She very eagerly inserts me into her vagina, swiftly plopping down atop my lap.

“Nnnn-god!” She exclaims.

“Damn, look at those two!” A male viewer watches.

“How indecent! ... Can we try that pose sometime?” A woman asks her male companion.

Voices slowly grow louder in the still darkened theater as Abigail and I sit up. I’m not sure what the bay mare and the other cowboy are doing, and I don’t really care. With my face buried in my lover’s big breasts, she swivels her hips and bucks against me. I hold her buttocks tightly with both hands and help guide her, pulling her into me as she rides. Abigail loves it, practically choking as she gasps for breath and exclaiming loudly in pleasure.

“Agh! Nng! Nnnn. Gahh! Nng! Ahh!” She gasps, groans and squeals.

My voice is muffled by her breasts, though I grunt and groan just as much. I feel my pleasure build, but yet again it’s cut short when Abigail cums hard. Sitting atop me, her entire body trembles like a leaf in the wind. My white and brown spotted mare anthro lover rests her chin atop my head and holds me like a small child hugging a teddy bear, on hand on my sweaty back and the other stroking the back of my head. Her fur has begun to matt with her sweat, damp in the most obvious places. Her inner thighs, belly, the underside of her breasts, small of her back and underarms radiate heat and have darkening fur from the moisture. Her body has a strange, feminine scent, almost a musk, but I absolutely love it. It reminds me of holding any of my previous girlfriends and, when they were not wearing perfume, smelling the nape of their neck.

“Woo!” A man cheers.

“That’s the way to do it!” A woman exclaims.

“Someone knows his way around a woman!” Another female voice cheers.

“Hey!” A man yells with a hint of jealousy.

“What?!” The second woman ignorantly asks.

Abigail pulls her legs from behind me, now kneeling over me and pushes me back. With her hands on my chest, I watch her as she looks lustfully at me, slowly resuming her work. She rocks her hips and grinds against me, moving slowly at first.

“Ride him, girl!” A man chirps.

Leaning forward, she looks me in the eyes as she begins to pick up speed. Now she actually moves my cock into and out of her, bouncing up and down. We share a few more kisses and she nuzzles my neck. I look down to watch, seeing the white fur of her groin illuminated by the light of the projector on the screen to our right. The pink flesh of my Caucasian penis disappears as she pushes down against me, her little pink nether lips swallowing my member whole. While certainly erotic, and while certainly feeling absolutely incredible, it’s also a strangely “cute” image. I pull her against me and we effectively hug as she keeps swaying her hips and riding me.

“Hot damn! Look at that bay getting at it!” A man cheers.

“Language, mister!” A woman scolds him.

“Sorry.”

I then realize that Abigail and I probably aren’t even being watched. I look over to see what’s going on and find the bay mare is now riding the other cowboy again. This time, he’s in a seat and she’s facing him, her hands holding the backrest and hooves planted firmly on the ground. The bay mare is quite literally slamming herself down on the cowboy’s penis, riding him so hard that the chair shakes and creaks, actually moving across the floor slightly and bumping the chairs beside it. I briefly wonder if he’s in pain or enjoying himself, though I soon ignore them and return to my own lover. I stroke the damp flesh of Abigail’s back and kiss her cheek as she nuzzles me. My mare girl really puts effort into her ride, grunting and groaning as she bucks and bounces. Feeling the peak swiftly approaching, I pull my arms tighter around her.

“Nnf. Don’t stop. Nnf. I’m. Nnf. About. Nnf.” I grunt.

“Yeah. Nng! Do it! Nng! Fill me with, nng, your seed! Ahh!” She tells me.

I’m more than happy to oblige. I place my feet on the floor and begin pumping my hips up and into her. She groans and moans, her motions stopping as she lets me pound her as I lay on my back.

“B-but, nng, I wanted to, nng, make you, nng, cum!” She whines.

“Nng, you’re my mare. Nng, and I’m, nng, in charge.” I tell her.

“Ahh, then were, nnf, are you, nnf, going to cum, nnf, mister?” She asks innocently.

I don’t answer her, merely kissing her deeply as I pound her harder and faster. Her forearms rest on my chest, putting quite a bit of weight on me, though it’s certainly bearable. Her hands grip my shoulders and her fingers squeeze tighter and tight. I can tell by her panting and moaning that she’s close to another orgasm as well. My climax inches closer and closer, picking up more and more speed before I’m figuratively sprinting for the finish line. Her hot, wet pussy quivers on my cock as I pummel her taut flesh, my full balls smacking her ass. I suddenly shove my penis deeper into her pussy, holding myself balls deep. She squeals and cums hard as she feels me doing the same. Jet after thick and powerful jet flows into her body, flowing past her cervix and into her uterus, flooding it with fertile sperm.

“Aaahhh-god!” She squeals.

“Oh, I think they’re done!” Some guy remarks.

“She took the Lord’s name in vain!” Another says.

“We all do that when it’s that good.” A woman retorts in Abigail’s defense.

“... Oh.”

Slumping over, she lay over me for a while and we cuddle. I leave myself in her, though she doesn’t make an effort to pull away either. We’re both well aware that in this time frame, what just occurred has only two outcomes, neither of which we can control with modern methods. She seems nervous. Stroking my chest with her fingernail, Abigail looks to me.

“What happens if...” She pauses.

“I’d like to see you again. I don’t think I’ll be leaving the city anymore.” I assure her.

“Oh! Good!” She chirps.

Her fretful expression fades as I, in a manner fitting of the time, assure her that I’ll remain with her.

“Those two are something else!” Some guy says.

“Yeah, they’re really getting into it! The two at the front are just lying there, though... I think they’re asleep.” Another spectator says.

Now realizing that we’re in a theater full of people are there just to watch the four of us having sex, Abigail looks quite shocked. I briefly wonder if she was so wrapped up in our intercourse that she simply didn’t realize the people pouring in to gawk. She reaches over and takes my duster, pulling it closer. I then drape it over her back like a blanket and we hold each other a while longer while we calm down. Eventually, I pull out and we relax. I can’t help but noticing that not a drop of my aftermath spills out and against my pelvis.

“Oh, they’re done. Well, there’s still those two!” A man chirps.

“Woo! Get it, girl!” Another says.

Abigail and I both look over, seeing that the bay mare and the cowboy have taken several chairs, none of which are fused to the ground, and flipped them. Lining them up, they built a platform out of the backs of chairs, using it like a table so that the bay mare could ride the cowboy. A crowd of people stand only feet away, watching the two having sex as the bay mare really works him. The cowboy remarks about how badly he wants to cum.

“You can last longer boy!” A man chirps.

“I wonder how much he has?” A woman thinks aloud, as if fantasizing.

“This is the best show I’ve ever gone too!” A teenage sounding boy exclaims.

“Wow... These people are really indecent.” Abigail remarks.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

We begin to collect our clothes and dress ourselves to leave, only for me to finally wake up.

Self-analysis: While comical in its own way, I can’t help but feel that it’s also social satire. There’s a stark contrast to my own personal views and reality as I perceive it. Abigail and myself are clearly the loving, spontaneous, fun relationship that I consider ideal, and the sex we had was above carnal pleasure and more in line with romantic love-making, minus the setting. This is the kind of sex that I consider “proper”, passionate, even loving sex between only two people who actually give a shit. The bay mare and the cowboy are unadulterated, animalistic sex; they’re the “I really want to get off so let’s fuck because why not” kind of people, of which I loathe. I can’t respect people like that. The crowd feel like humanity in general, and possibly the furry community. It bothers me that people focus more on penises and vaginas going at it than on the connection between characters, especially in art depicting things like public sex and tied up, cum drenched anthro women with 20+ notches drawn on them. All of the shows with adultery and cheap porn; I wonder if we’re really all that different from animals, or will we ever transcend the flesh. Of course, I could also be looking waaay too into this dream.