FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

You never know what curve balls life will throw at you. One day, you can be riding a bike and not see a thrown ball from a neighborhood pack of children playing catch before you're suddenly going face first into the asphalt; one day, you can be in the convenience store trying to buy a soda only for some random thug to come in ready to shoot at anything that moves trying to rob the place; one day, you can find a one hundred dollar bill lying on the ground only to find that it's a very well-disguised ad to go to church every Sunday in the name of Arceus; and one day, you can get pantsed in front of a crowded football field on live television.

Or you can be Sam, and break your bong after tossing your backpack loaded with 'goods' on it by mistake.

The sound of it shattering felt like his heart had been broken by his ex-girlfriend all over again, only this time instead of getting socked in the face to make sure he couldn't snap at her for being a cheater by her new man he lost the only other love in his life. Sam sank to his knees at the wreckage, carefully unwinding the cloth layers that were guarding it from this very phenomenon only to hold back a whine at how much damage was done. The body was teetering from falling off the whole thing and the bowl was a war zone of sharp glass edges, however the tragedy was the down pipe. Having that was too crucial from smoking weed, and having it broken meant he was doomed to get another.

The Simisage gave up on trying to be silent about the mess, because when he heard someone clear their throat behind him he jumped and nearly cut his fingers being startled. It was his dad, Sal.

"Y-yeah, dad...?" The Simipour hadn't said anything, so the younger simian wanted to make sure they were back on earth before responding.

"...So you wanna tell me why I shouldn't be giving your ass a ride for breaking my bong? That got me through college, Samson!" Normally, the aquatic monkey was mellow and didn't let menial issues bother his natural, encouraging smile. But seeing that broken instrument of relief on the floor was the tick that could never be removed.

"I'm sorry, okay!?"

"Sorry won't get that shit fixed, boy! What will is your next paycheck!" Sam gulped, as he had been planning on using that money to buy himself some toys for the upcoming break from early uni. Two weeks, nothing but a bong, cannabis, him time and occasional munchies until it's back to the books-now all in the trash as he had to dispose of the useless bong now.

"W-wait, dad! I-i can get another! I know a guy!"

"You know a guy that can fix that shit? Fixing a bong ain't cheap!"

"He'll do it cheap, honest! He owes me favors anyhow, I'm sure I'll have it in before you know it!"

"Uh-huh ...Get that mess off my floor before I end up getting the paddle for you. May be old but it's enough to tend to you..." The 'Pour walked off, mumbling about some punishment that used to make Sam want to piss himself in fear of the lashes to his back end that left him having to sit funny or lay down on his stomach to avoid irritating the stinging agony while the 'Sage carefully picked up the cloth that held almost every bit of glass to dump into his nearby waste bin.

Almost, because Sam felt a shard dig into his sole just as he stepped away from disposing of the dangerous debris.

"F-fuck....!" He hurriedly whispered his curse, as being under his dad's roof meant no cussing whatsoever. Sam hopped on one foot looking for it, coming across it without further damaging himself and holding back a whine as removing it was still a very sharp pain to deal with. Man, he hated getting hurt-in his own room, no less!

After flicking off the piece that thankfully left no blood, Sam carefully made his way to his closet to grab a jar hidden behind some boxes. This was his weed and sex toy fund, but now that he had to buy a bong before he could refill the jar with cash there was no point in living the dream. He begrudgingly dumped out the bills and few coins inside, grabbing a shirt to wear before sliding his gym shorts higher up his legs. Let's do this...!

---

"Seriously, Amadais? You can't be out!"

"I told you already-cops were raiding my building, so I had to dump my stash into the nearby dumpster and say I had a gassy Skuntank over before they arrived to pass off the damn smell. If I had one, I would have let you see it, but I'm ass-out myself."

"Fuck.....thanks anyway...."

"No prob, Sam."

And with a shut door, the Simisage was back to feeling as if he were never gonna get back on his dad's chill side. When they guy exploded, he never lets it go and Sam would rather not be stuck living in a house with his dad and grandfather forever. He made his way downstairs and back onto the road, making sure his backpack was secured over both of his shoulders before he started for home. Maybe if he were lucky, his dad could tell him where he bought his bong and Sam could try haggling them down so his fund paid for everything.

But all of that was cut short from thought as an outstretched hand reached towards him from an alleyway to his right.

"AAAH!" The simian jumped, completely thrown off-guard from the sudden limb trying to grab his soul-which had left the building the second his feet left the ground. The city was too lively for him to be heard, so he was allowed to get his heart back into his chest before coming to notice that the arm had not drawn back. "Uh ...I don't have any food."

Finally, the seemingly disembodied limb made a move-beckoning the monkey to come hither. Every red flag concerning strangers came to mind as not only did they do that they retreated back into the alley, but Sam had been struck with curiosity for the intent. And while he hoped that he was right to give this stranger the benefit of the doubt, he couldn't help but feel that his life was in danger.

Of what, he had yet to know.

He walked in, keeping a steady eye out for anyone standing out some window with a knife or something ready to jump down to him, or being on the ground hiding behind a barrel or dumpster to mug him, but all he saw was the retreating back of who he assumed called for him to be here heading for the open back end of a van. Oh yeah, that fear was crawling up his back like a swarm of Joltik now. And that's never a good thing. Fortunately for Sam, they only stopped to sit on the edge and turned to look at him from beneath the parka they were wearing.

A Morelull. Interesting.

Their visible lack of a mouth was more than enough to convince Sam that questioning the guy for answers beyond yes or no would be fruitless, so he only looked around before bringing his gaze back to the small 'shroom man with as much confusion as one can muster before it was taken as cringe. They merely gestured around the area the two were situated in, nearly getting Sam to think the guy-or girl, can't really tell with their protective getup-was delusional, only for their arms to gesture to the inside of the van. A light flicked on in tandem with the Morelull's presentation of a...

"A bong?" Yep, there it was, as if it were on display in a museum with an overhead light. It looked almost like the one his dad had before he broke it, but the body looked rather...narrow considering the bowl was big. The 'shroom nodded, the light fading from view but all it was doing was preceding the retrieval of Sam's target of interest. With a Vine Whip, which Sam was very wary of. They held it out towards him, so he went into his pocket for the money.

"It's not a whole lot but I wanna thank you for at least showing me you h-" Sam looked up to notice the 'shroom was shaking their head, bringing their hand up to shoo away Sam's offer to pay for the bong. They held it out for him again, as if giving a clear green light to just take it, and he hesitated. Since when did getting high become a courtesy and not a fun, private pastime that people were very antisocial about?

"Are you sure? I can try to pay ..." It felt wrong to just take an offering, but they wouldn't budge, standing up from their van and practically shoving the bong to Sam. He caught it before he dropped it, because who needs another pile of glass to clean up, and right when he made sure he had a grip on it he saw that the van door had been closed and the Morelull man was out of sight. Guess they were serious about letting him have it, but now he had to walk it home safely...

And he only had his shirt to cover it from sight...

Yep, the glass was cold sticking it up against his back, keeping his tail up high as to cover the down pipe sticking up from his shorts while he awkwardly skip-stepped home. He was glad this was the quieter side of the city, but he had to cut through the populated section to get towards home and waving off curious stares were getting less and less effective as those who went past looked at his butt and saw that one of his cheeks looked 'disproportionate'. Sam was saved when there seemed to be a loud traffic jam that caught everyone's attention, taking the time to dash his way on the right track before he had some form of law patrol wondering why it looked like he was hiding a second tail in his shirt.

Sam didn't get time to feel relieved until he was on his street, seeing the young Pokemon playing around on their yards unsupervised by their parents. He remembered when that was the norm for him but he wasn't gonna bore himself to a somber tone now that he was walking up towards his front porch. Thankfully, his father had gone off from the house while he had been gone, so he only had to worry about not waking his grandfather.

Shawn, the Simisear with a cane almost always ready to be used for walking or clocking someone on the head if they get a smart tone with him, was fast asleep in his armchair in the living room so Sam had to carefully lock the front door behind him and slowly dart upstairs without breaking the bong. It's been a while since he prowled on all fours, and it felt like he was a Liepard for a bit, but his relief to reach the top without hearing the 'Sear get snappy was well worth fixing himself. And removing the bong, after feeling it jostle itself towards his back door. Metal was not meant for asses, and that's a fact.

Sam kept his quiet streak up all the way up until he got into his room, swinging the door to shut with his foot and reveling in the success of getting a bong through the city without any interference or cops. Maybe it was lucky glass, as Sam's loo-see on it gave him the impression that the Morelull stranger gave it to him for more than just to smoke with it.

Oh well, no point thinking about it when he can just use it.

He set it on his desk before grabbing his backpack for his weed, glad his dad hadn't raided him of his recently obtained cannabis while he was gone before leaving themselves, and slowly got to work grinding it all down for the pipe.

Today has been stressful enough, but getting a free bong and not having to worry about losing out on getting some toys to occupy his free time besides awkwardly jerking off to porn vids off the internet into a sock was a relief worth smoking over. Sam loaded up the down pipe with his crushed grains of weed, digging up his lighter-which he totally didn't steal from someone when he went to a party-from his discarded pants and sitting on the bed. The water came to a quick boil for him the second he flicked a flame up, and after a bit of brewing the real deal was frothing up like someone cooking mac and cheese shells. Once Sam took an inhale of smoke piling inside, something snapped in his brain and he slowly came to lay down on his bed.

The ceiling was rippling like water, making it seem like he had taken a swim but dove down for a while to escape having his head cooked by the sun, but the more he stared the harder it got to focus on the surreal structure above him before he noticed that he was drifting. The ceiling left, the world getting dark around him until he felt himself falling someplace brighter. When the sudden shift was over, Sam found himself laid out in a bed of grass, hitting home in having him miss the days he just went out and got himself alone in the wild where nothing lived. It felt so riveting to just feel like the world was his to isolate himself to fully enjoy what it had to offer in terms of wonders, and before he knew it he was trying to make a grass angel. However, he only got to make the grove of his imprint in the dirt for about seven or so cycles of waving his arms and legs in big pie pieces before the sun bathing the land in light suddenly kicked up in warmth and the grass near him was on fire. But it wasn't threatening him; it seemed more like the kind of fire that turned out to be an audience in the making of a theater where the air conditioning's broken.

All of this and more coursed through Sam's befuddled mind, his eyes already glazed over like a donut from a bakery and his body looking almost taxidermied with how little he was breathing in. One hit and he was out of it, which was saying something since getting high was hard for a grass type on account of their plant affinity. Before the dazed Simisage knew it, he slowly lifted his head and saw he had grown erect in the midst of him losing it. It was probably a bad idea to jerk off dry, but there was an urge in the back of his clouded mind telling him to pleasure himself-even though his grandfather was still in the house-and he was doomed to honor it by dragging his hand into his shorts.

He never wore underwear when he went out, because it was easier to get them dirty from sweating so much and it was one less layer to get off when it was time to visit the oval office, so it was a straight shot to his cock once he got it in his blazed hand. The nerves on it seemed rather active today, as the first stroke had Sam gasping for air at the intensity of which his body was jolted with the electric sensation of bliss all over, so being him he decided to see if that was just a trick of the touch. Though it seemed to get even stronger with more, so he was all for keeping it up. His eyes went shut, thinking about his next door neighbor Zebstrika and how they had a nice set of balls for someone their age casually hanging out of their shorts whenever they tended to their garden in their backyard. It was weird to think of older guys in that way but Sam's always had a thing for folks with a dick that looked like a challenge.

He never backed down from one.

In the midst of his pumping, Sam noticed that his stun rod of a dick was starting to slip out of his hand more. Odd, he hadn't even shot any precum yet. There was still time to feel it up, so he put every ounce of focus he had into rubbing it in its hypersensitive state until the 'slipping had him just aggressively brushing the head with his palm to keep things up. His balls were pulling up hard and his cock felt like it was on fire with how much Sam wanted to keep the pleasure up until the end, so he reached down to keep pulling on them only to come across a new portion of nerves that made him blast all over the bedding between his legs. That felt like a mini-orgasm on its own combined with touching his dick...

Sam brushed over that spot again, motioning both hands in a circle and feeling a wave of ecstasy crash down on him like he was out swimming in the middle of a tsunami. That felt amazing, like his prostate was big and packed of unmassaged nerves that had been begging for this kind of attention, so Sam kept it up. The hand lowest between his legs steadily grew wet, finally being graced with some precum that smelled as sweet as Pecha berries once he got a whiff of it, and before he knew it he felt his hand pressing in deeper...

Sam let out the girliest moan he ever heard in existence as he found himself cumming all over the bed, the sweet smell practically intoxicating to his senses as he swam around between consciousness and being flat-out gone from the world. But his hand was still going, still making his body react with twitching forelegs and white-knuckled toes. Sam whimpered, as he brought himself past halfway towards yet another climax and didn't have the heart to stop. He hadn't a clue why his dick felt so good to merely brush, but he wasn't gonna question why if it made him feel so ecstatic.

Though when he felt a slimy something worm its way past his fingers and into his new "sweet spot", his mouth didn't even bother trying to stay quiet.

It wormed up into him like a cetacean toy as he's seen on websites, digging in almost as far as his fingers could go but still taking the time to explore what it could reach and leaving Sam throwing his hips up in the air. Only to hit something that didn't let him go far. And a pair of hands grabbing his ass.

And that was when Sam knew there was something off here.

He brought himself up, and right away his hazed mind felt panic settle in as there was nothing but red between his legs. No, not from blood. It was his grandfather. But there was more! Instead of his new sweet spot near his 'cock' as he had assumed, Shawn was face-deep into what was obviously...a pair of succulent lips that dotted the presence of a pussy. Sam's poor cock and balls were reduced to nothing more than a bitch hole with a 'burst' button on top, and he couldn't even be fully shocked about it with Shawn still slurping his depths without a care that they were related.

"Gr-granddad...." Sam had his hands removed during his revelation that he had somehow switched junk for a girl's folds and tried to use those glistening digits to push the older monkey off of him. But whether it was the rising pleasure of having something that wasn't from his own body digging into his cunny or some secret desire to be in this situation, Sam didn't have the strength to get Shawn out from between his legs and trying to move away from him was impossible with his vice grip on the Simisage's ass. He was trapped.

Trapped with his new pussy in his grandfather's jaws.

"Pl-please g-grampa...stop...." He didn't want it to feel good, but it wouldn't stop and the damn Simisear wouldn't let up with his tongue. This was new, since they always seemed to be lethargic and barely able to do much other than walk to the kitchen for water or to the bathroom to piss out what he drank, but here they were eating out Sam with the vigor of an Arcanine. The young monkey was helpless to another climax, stronger thanks to Shawn's hard work to make sure he couldn't break free from their hold, feeling those juices of his splash on the 'Sear's face like shower water hitting the floor over and over. It lasted longer too, leaving him to feel like he was back in that falling sensation when he got high for all of however long it's be-

He was out of it for twenty minutes!?

His prolonged time blitzed was hardly worth forgetting that his grandfather just got done treating him like a first date too steamy to leave off with a goodbye hug, the urge to shudder passing as the older simian's face was matted down with slick and there was a thick strand of it connecting their tongue to those folds while they pulled back for a real breather. Sam's face must have been asking the questions he couldn't utter, because after wiping their mouth clear the Simisear spoke.

"Ah smelled pussy...jus' doin' wut Ah was born t' do..." Shawn's reply didn't help calm Sam, and especially not when the old monkey got to climbing their way over the 'Sage. He was scared, for he didn't know why he was getting that look and feared that Shawn had something in mind that would be painful, but it was a different type of pain that befell Sam as he screamed up to the ceiling above the two of them.

The old man had penetrated him and broke Sam's hymen.

The only sign that he was a virgin all over again was gone, leaving the Simisage to whimper in the resulting discomfort as he felt a warmer-than-warm cock slide its way through his folds slicked from his previous orgasms and Shawn's saliva. He didn't want to look away, because that'd not only incite the idea of submission but it'd show weakness in the face of his hardy grandfather and he still hated the days of dealing with both his parents and them to this day, so he made sure his unease was evident on his face while they held eye contact. The Simisear didn't seem deterred for a bit, but once their warmer fur came to a stop against Sam's hips he knew they'd be merciful this time around.

This was every bit of wrong, in so many ways beyond the likes of which one can imagine, but as the two of them just laid there basking in the pleasures they offered each other Sam slowly felt himself calm down. He could see his grandfather-truly-and he saw someone bogged down with some motivational catalyst that made him get like this despite their relations. In a sense, he was high-and off of Sam's pheromones.

And as if his body was waiting for him to come to that realization, something hot blazed within his midriff and he groaned like he took an Ember in the...pussy. Yeah, still weird to think he went from having a fully functioning dick and nuts to a full-fledged cunt. Sam didn't know what that was, but Shawn seemed to get the idea as they began to pull back.

"Oh y-yeah....yer in heat, boy ...Gotta get that dealt wit' 'less yuh want wild ones bus'in' in th' house." Sam didn't want to think of what could possibly detect the smell of ripe cunt from out in the wilderness, but with how many species there is to discover on this planet he wouldn't put it past his granddad to warn him not to let this estrus boil within him like a Scald, so he allowed the older simian to continue humping him like they were a married couple.

Ironic considering his grandmother was a Simisage as Shawn told him.

The old man actually knew what he was doing despite being hyped up on eager pussy juice, going in hard but not to a painful degree and pulling out slowly to make Sam want it. The lad thought he was being teased most of the time, rather than plowed like a fresh catch too good-looking to some hunters to ignore, and it was made worse when Shawn kissed his way into the 'Sage's neck and started hitting deeper after leaning in closer. Sam gasped with each thrust, because that cock head was knocking against a barrier in the back of his new snatch and it made his whole body quiver in a mix of mind-tingling pleasure and sharp, pinprick pain. He wished he could move his arms, but the old monkey had pinned them to the side of his head and the 'Sear was a very strong holder. No chances in breaking through unless he was legitimately hurt.

And there's no convincing your screaming is of pain when you're squirting juices alongside them.

Sam felt like his lungs couldn't refill with air at the rate they were going, and having Shawn breathe into his ear to let him know the Simisear was giving it their all in effort as their hips moved with renown vigor. Confused, Sam moaned in question and got the old man's attention.

"Y-yer ah tight fuck...gettin' ah li'l too hard t' not nut in yuh already..." That would explain the speedier pumps of that hot dick through him, and the new warmth 'splattering' against his wall that Shawn couldn't break through. Being a grass type meant hot liquids were about as effective to his body as a Flamethrower stream, so he was squirming up a storm beneath Shawn and thus getting the old Simisear to bear their weight on him more firmly to keep him still while they continued to strip Sam's flower of any trace of innocence.

"Granddad..." Sam began to feel...floaty again. But he was still right in the head rather than wasted off his soul, so it took a while to realize that he had cum again because the Simisear was growling at him like he just punched them. His juices splashed against the old man's crotch and both of their inner thighs, leaving a thicker cloud of their collective smells to leave the bedroom feeling like a sauna with no steam with the sweat piling into his fur. Sam was left sucking in air like someone who was Seismic Toss'd so high into the air they had their lungs empty for longer than intended-or just an asthma attack for realism-while Shawn kept on moving forward, teeth remaining bare while they nearly kissed the 'Sage on multiple occasions where they hung their head low. The air between them was suffocating, the old man's breath was tainted with the aroma of Sam's cunt and whatever there was for breakfast.

Sam wouldn't have known because he had college food to eat, but he didn't dwell on it forever as Shawn suddenly slammed into him without warning, a scalding hot rush of what was blatantly spunk streaming all over the place in his cunny before he felt something almost as hot flare up within his midsection. He should have been screaming from nearly being burnt from the inside-out in his alien organs but he was huffing from the sensation of being...displeased. Yeah, that's what it is. He wasn't satisfied with his grandfather nutting so hard without actually giving him what he wanted...The more Sam thought of being sated, the more rational it seemed to go.

When Shawn came to, the Simisage beneath him wrapped his arms around the back of their head to pull them down. "G-give me...m-more..."

"Yuh want more, eh kid...?" The old Simisear was winded, but the younger simian didn't seem to take that as a reason to be deterred as he pulled on them harder.

"G-give it to me...!"

Shawn snorted at that, looking down at his flustered grandson and peeking the rather lustful haze that took over their sight. Seems their estrus finally won the battle between uncertainty and misunderstandings, and all that remained was a need to be bred, so the old man began to oblige once he was sure his hips weren't going to give out on him the second he started moving again. Now that he knew the boy wanted it, he didn't bother being slow. He damn sure didn't bother being gentle either, those lips puffy from being smacked against by rather firm hips and the recently dumped cum from that first load oozing out from the excessive impacts and disturbances brought on by Shawn's resuming of their fuck.

Sam went from quietly whimpering in hopes that this new set of feelings were just a dream and that they'd come to pass to shamelessly moaning like he were getting milked by a machine nonstop, his legs finding their way around Shawn's waist and helping them stay deep. Their aim needed to be true for this round or the old man might break something continuing on to properly pleasure the needy simian below him.

"G-get it...in the right place...th-this time...." Sam's tone was demanding, the real mark of a woman who was tired of faking her 'pleading for Arceus as she gushed' moments, but Shawn remained firm to what he offered.

"D-don't sass me boy...Ah'm th' one breedin' you...an' y-yuh best respect that." True, but that didn't stop Sam from being a lot more aggressive with his clinging onto Shawn's body. No more words were exchanged, so the old Simisear let things ride from there as he pounded his way to exhaustion. Fatigue ebbed through his limbs, starting to yawn in aches that would debilitate the common man at his age, but Shawn kept pushing on for the sake of freedom-after all, Sam was pretty much digging into his bones with their clutches on him.

That pussy looked raw by the time Shawn started showing signs of a coming climax, reddened folds looking freshly spanked thanks to those hips and both those and the boy's taint left a creamy mess of semen that escaped from Sam's depths. The bed was already awash in their shared fluids but the deluge would definitely be a problem for them later. Or maybe just Sam, since Shawn doesn't sleep in here unless the boy's gone on business or something. But he didn't need to know that. At any rate.

The old Simisear worked up a good sweat by the time he came to a pause and ground his hips against Sam, letting out a low growl as his nut refilled what was lost and even added some within the boy's womb. The second that hot spunk seeped past that cervix, some of the heat began to simmer down and Sam groaned as if he had been attacked with a bomb to his nerves from the sensation. It felt amazing to have nut in his new baby maker.

"M-more...." Shawn glanced down at Sam, catching their horny set of eyes doing the begging for them.

"Really now? Yuh want me t' keep fuckin' yer tight li'l pussy, boy?" At this, the 'Sear gave a few thrusts to the cunny he just dirtied up with his seed, and nearly smirked a little too hard for his age at the Simisage's whimpering.

"Pl-please...it burns...I want it to go away..."

"Well...if yuh say so, boy...~"

---

Sal didn't think he'd end up drinking with the boys for so long, thinking it'd just be an "in and out" deal as they had promised only for the first glass to send him in a greedy frenzy for as many as possible. Now he was barely able to drive with a right mind, narrowly avoiding the usual signs that a drunk driver was behind the wheel with several glasses of water and a quick splashing in the bar's bathroom before he left, and he felt like a great wave of comfort took him as he stepped into his home. Sheesh, it was late. Boy's probably upstairs asleep or something...

Huh Shawn's not in his chair.

Sal never took his old man to do much moving except to the bathroom, so this was definitely news for him. Though he was cut off from thinking about how long the old man fell asleep on the can until he heard them let out a 'pained' groan upstairs. Must have been constipated, or something. Though it was Sal's job to make sure that man didn't break a hip or something, because they sure didn't have the cash to just take care of the expenses.

The Simipour dumped his jacket off at the coat rack and hauled his way upstairs, already imagining the conversation he was gonna have with his dad.

The second he got on the landing, he heard Shawn groan again. From Sam's room.

The door was cracked, but all Sal could pay attention to was the fact that it reeked of sex from within. The Simipour wished he didn't peek in.

He saw Shawn on the bed, straddled over a body while he hunched over the headboard towards the wall. Judging from the slimy sounds in motion, he was getting some head and the recipient wasn't keen on letting him slip free at any moment of time. Once he stopped focusing on his dad's thrusting hips, he saw the green fur and knew who exactly...Wait, no. Sam doesn't have a puss-

"M-more ...granddad...." And there was the confirmation that this vagina-bearing simian on the bed getting skull-fucked like a bound lady in a kinky BDSM porno was indeed Samson. Instead of the cock that Sal has unfortunately seen time and time again whenever the young 'Sage forgets to close his door all the way when he's jerking off or sleeping off the heat in complete nudity, it was a full-fledged snatch between his legs which Shawn must have used plenty before giving up on account of his age. Things only kicked up in 'strangest shit in history' when they started chatting some more.

"Sorry kid...Ah'm all out...gonna need t' ask yer ole man fer more..." The boy whined as the Simisear slowly got off the bed and stretched his limbs, leaving Sal to slowly widen his eyes as Shawn met his with a knowing smirk. "If he comes in."

At that, the Simisage looked up from his lax state on his bed towards the door, biting his lip with a whimper while his pussy audibly winked towards Sal. Oh yeah, this is going straight into his file after some therapy. Though, since the Simipour was caught, he might as well come in and break the ice.

"I'm not gonna ask how, because I bet not even he knows...But I am gonna ask...why the FUCK are you two screwing around in my house!?" Samson ignored the question by rubbing his chin-he smelled like Shawn rubbed his balls all over his body and it was obvious with a nose like Sal's-so the old monkey answered.

"Pussy is pussy, son. Not like we're blood."

Sal thought he was gonna pop a blood vessel from the sheer dumbfounded anger that spawned with Shawn's answer. "That's not an excuse, old man! You could still get him pregnant if he's like this."

"He wouldna been askin' fer more outta me if he got knocked up. Besides, Ah don't recall there being a problem wit' screwing fresh pussy-last Ah checked, that's how ya were wit' yer wife til she left yuh fer bein' ah sex freak."

Sal snorted at the quick jab at his past. So what if he loved fucking her? She sucked his cum up like a Heracross drank tree sap or honey, so it was always a challenge to just keep pounding into her until she didn't absorb Sal's nut up. "So? That's my ex-wife, that's your grandson!"

"He ain't muh blood. So it don't count as inbreedin'."

"Technicalities, my ass. He's still related to you, smartass."

"So when are yuh jus' gon' have at him? I know yer probably livid, but that dick o' yers don't lie." Sal growled but turned away instead of answering, trying to will down the erection that made his yammering seem moot with how serious the situation is. So what if he was aroused? It smelled like pussy and it was fully natural for a guy to get horny at the smell of some. Sure didn't seem fair considering Sam looked like he was about to jump Sal any moment now with that look he was giving the 'Pour.

"C'mon, it'll be quick, easy an' jus' like th' ole days wit' yer wife. Boy sucks up nut like a plant anyhow, so Ah see why yuh always made ah big fuss about how she was." Sal really wished Shawn would shut up already but it seemed the Simisear was just as keen to get Sal into the idea of fucking the young Simisage on the bed before him as they did with their beckoning gaze. Sam looked like those needy girls you find in alleyways making ends meet, and it was still getting to Sal considering the last time he got genuinely laid was the day before his wife left. Fucking Shannon and her grade A cunt. Eventually, Sal's dick did the talking in his pants with a throb that nearly made him groan and he caved in.

"If I do this...Never again. I don't even care if it's temporary." Shawn merely shrugged at the criteria.

"Yuh ain't gotta tell me. Tell yer boy that. Ah'm goin' t' sleep." Huh. Here Sal thought Shawn was gonna watch the proceedings like the secret pervert he was slowly turning out to be in the Simipour's eyes, but no the 'Sear only patted him on the shoulder and left the bedroom as it was, leaving Sal to come to stare at Sam. Having attention on him seemed to be what drove him to be more extracurricular at displaying his arousal, because no sooner did they make eye contact did the Simisage roll around onto his knees and let his hips stay high in the air so his ass faced Sal. The Simipour's dick jumped on sight and the older simian grumbled to himself. Fuck sake, why must he love toying around with grass types?

"Listen up, kid. Blood or not, I'm pulling out of ya. I'm not risking that chance even if we ain't blood." Sal took that as his reasoning for continuing to go through with this nonsense, getting on his knees since Sam was up too low to stay standing. But the 'Sage didn't seem to like that answer, just about ready to cram the 'Pour's dick inside of him right away.

"N-no ...breed me..." That used snatch oozed out some more leftovers from whatever Shawn dumped in there, leaving Sal wondering just how long they've been up here screwing. Though, the soggy bed was proof enough that they didn't stop at one measly round and the Simipour sucked in some dignity as he shoved his pants down to stick his cock inside of his son. Oh yeah, definitely not something he'd be thinking of doing tonight.

Sam seemed to enjoy this nonetheless, for having a dick inside of him after an hour of dealing with Shawn attempting to be kinky left him in a burning need that revitalized after the Simisear left him high and metaphorically dry. The remains of their fucking were barely noticeable for Sal, so at least he didn't have a solid excuse to pull out and further torture the poor simian on the bed in dire need of dicking down.

"F-fuck, why is it so damn...h-hot...?" Sal's dealt with fire type pussy before, on account of him being able to quell the scorching heat their orifices offer with his personal body lube, but when it's a type disadvantage mixed together with an advantage then the tables turn for...the better, it looks like. Despite the inflamed fleshy muscles around him, Sal couldn't help but throbbed harder than ever before. Shannon was never this...inviting. She was either snug or loose, and ready to receive some monkey cream, so this was definitely a step in the right direction...

Sam yelling down below shocked Sal out of his stupor to notice something. Balls-deep on the first try. And the boy was wiggling around like it weren't enough, as opposed to discomfort as Sal had hoped. Oh well, guess there really was no backing out. He made sure to keep a mental timer to pull out when he nutted as he took to thrusting right away, not letting the Simisage adapt to his cock and hurt his ears shrieking for something he couldn't have. The green simian didn't seem to care that Sal was being inconsiderate for his pleasure. Whatever got them to cum inside of him sooner. He was already drooling into his damp pillow, so he could care less about roughness while those hips smacked into his pussy like a paddle.

Sal didn't want to admit it verbally-or mentally, but here he was-but Sam was really rocking the kind of pussy he needs. The 'Pour didn't want to remarry some cheap slut that'd last a month with his libido, he wanted someone who could match or surpass Shannon in quality. And ever so slowly did the idea of letting this be temporary fade away...

In the middle of Sal's rapidly increasing slams that steadily became a blur of hair and muscles colliding with each other, the Simipour noticed some strange object on the floor made of glass. One look at the bottom and he saw it was a bong. Weird one too, especially with that down pipe. He'll definitely use that sparingly if he had to. Sam shouted again, but it was followed by a quick gush fest from his pussy that left Sal biting his lips to hold out. Nah, he didn't cave in to a lady's orgasm like most virgins. He went in until he was ready to nut, and there was gonna be a while before that came.

So unfortunately, Sal had to go through not one, not two, not three, not four, or five orgasms until he even let out some of his runny precum within Sam's cunt. It was goddamn thirteen whole loads from that deep red snatch before the Simipour actually showed signs of his own climax. Whatever Sam was on made him a living fire hose, for the older simian was left with soaked pants hanging off his knees while they continued to pound that cunny like there was no tomorrow already on the horizon. Must have been four AM or some shit, doesn't matter. Sam didn't have classes to go to, and even if he did, he would probably be ready to fling himself on the nearest bus to get home for two helpings of cock.

"D-dammit..." Sal felt his precum spurt harder inside of Sam, flushing out the last of Shawn's cum and leaving those velvet walls lukewarm to push through. There goes the warmth of that pussy, but still he couldn't bring himself to stop. Sam was just too good to pass up on. The fleeting reminder to pull out came in the middle of Sal pushing back and he ended up slipping further than how he'd been going for who knows how long, but Sam had been pushing himself against the older simian's crotch like he were a personal toy and wouldn't let him get any further than three-fourths of pleasure-inducing meat before they were back together again.

"N-no..." The Simisage was practically hoarse from screaming so much. "Inside...st-stay inside..."

"C'mon kid, give me a break ...Trying not to knock you up..." Honestly, Sal didn't even know if all of this was heat. A monkey in heat was a lot more aggressive than what Sam was pulling and all the Simisage was doing was laying there and taking this dick like a champ.

"Br-breed me, dad...It hurts..." At that, the very end of Sam's pussy began to heat up a fuckton, leaving Sal wondering if the guy had a Fire Stone stuck in his womb or something to actually pull that. But that was absurd to think about-especially since that cervix was definitely notrawed open. And the obvious answer wouldn't stop slapping Sal in the face.

He had to give his son some nut. Or they would get themselves in deeper shit trying to get relief.

Sal wondered if he was being personally called by the boy's womb, as things started to heat up as his dick neared the entrance to that pocket of heated space yearning for a baby, because the second he pushed against that cervix his meat was snagged by its overly snug presence and left to be attacked by another orgasm from Sam. This time, it was more than enough to finish off Sal thanks to how restrictive movement was.

The Simipour's cool spunk splurted everywhere within Sam's core, dousing that 'inner flame' like a hose to a fire and leaving the Simisage slack beneath him. Really felt like he was letting loose a whole nut inside of his son and he couldn't try taking it back. However, being a water type meant there was always excess to be dealt with and soon there was some oozing past his crotch and drooling down Sam's nethers and inner thighs. At least they were both satisfied.

Sal waited until those walls quit trying to milk him like a Bellsprout-trust him, that's NOT something you wanna try out when you're high-before attempting to pull out, gritting his teeth from how slimy things had gotten inside of Sam. But soon, he was out and watching the mess push itself out as the Simisage unconsciously winked towards the older simian.

Fun as that was, he said one time and that was it. So Sal made his leave after removing his pants. No point in wearing clothes that smelled like pussy if he didn't have one.

---

There was a van parked outside the Simi household, having arrived at an unknown time since no one had seen or heard it come in. It was plain green, a stark contrast to the usual black, blue or white. It never moved by morning and it always seemed as if the driver had run out of it. Must have left it behind.

But you'd be wrong, for the driver was very much inside, well and being sure to keep himself occupied.

The Morelull was in the back, lit up by that overhead light with no visible source while they sat in the middle ...or he, as they were busy jerking themselves off with their thin fingers. They didn't make a sound, only their eyes were a portrayal of how they felt at this point of time and they looked to be in a full elated state while their hands worked their cock in a flurry of movement. Suddenly, the Morelull tensed up and cum fired up towards the van roof like fountain water. As seed rained down on their mushroom appendages, the mess was absorbed into the diminutive being's body like it were never meant to be. They came to an afterglow after maybe two minutes of nonstop spurting into the air, but that was only because their cock was shrinking out of their grasp and oozing the remains of their load into their hands.

Unfortunately, that orgasm would be the last to have for the Morelull, as those loins slowly melded into their body and that cock shrunk into nothing more than a button of nerves. A pussy.

They looked apprehensive for a minute, only to look to the wall on their right. Where Sam's house was.

He'll get high soon. Then they can go back to jerking off with a dick for once.