FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Kevin idly thumbed through the magazine that he was attempting to read. He had failed to find an article interesting enough to merit his attention the first time through, so he was having another go at it. His hopes were not high however. The discarded publication was only in his hands because he had exhausted anything worthwhile on the internet and television, which ate up all of fifteen minutes. His search fruitless, he tossed the offending magazine aside. It hit the wall with a rather satisfying fwap and fluttered to the floor among empty shopping bags, old shipping boxes, and other varied detritus that littered that side of the room. Kevin glanced at the mess and sighed as he watched the magazine practically disappear into the debris.

He was usually able to shrug off the clutter, but it gnawed at him incessantly every once in awhile. It all belonged to his two roommates. Their "Chronological order by height" method of organizing their stuff had always ruffled Kevin's feathers. He was amazed by the shear volume of stuff that sat around in boxes, bins or disorganized piles downstairs. All his things were in his room, neatly organized in closets and bookshelves and other things that were meant for storage. He wasn't compulsive about it. A little disorder was just fine. He had yet to furnish his room with a dresser, so his clothes were kept mainly on the floor or in a laundry basket. That was a practical necessity though. What was the point of keeping all this junk around that really served no purpose?

Compared to his roommates, Kevin was an ascetic monk. A man at one with nothingness. It was a holdover from his tour in the military. Having to carry everything with you wherever you went really made you take a good hard look at the things you think you need, finding the list a little shorter every time you do so. Kevin came to college with all his worldly possessions in the trunk of his car. He had nowhere near the trouble that his roommates had moving their stuff in. Kevin carried baggage of a different sort. Little things like that magazine, the lack of suitable entertainment, and his conflict with his roommates cluttered his mind and made him question his decision to leave the service and go to college.

When his number came up and he was asked if he wanted to reenlist, he thought only of the bad times he'd had. How he always felt that he didn't belong, that he was too smart for the service and would be more at home in an academic environment. Not only did he find college to be severely lacking in intellectuals, he now found himself missing what he'd had only a few short months ago. It had torn him apart to leave his family at the start of his tour, but he found a new one. He now knew that he was much more out of place here than he had ever been with his fellow Marines.

Kevin realized that he had been idly staring off into space while he contemplated his regrets. Not the best way to spend your free time. But what does one do when you're alone on a Saturday night and utterly at a loss for something to occupy yourself? The few friends he had managed to garner thus far all had the same reaction to him. They thought that he had worked so hard in the military that he had "Forgotten how to have fun." He had always shrugged it off as a friendly jibe, but he was starting to think that they were right. He'd never had this much spare time to fill before, and thus never came up with the myriad of ways to fill it that his party-minded, fresh-out-of-high school counterparts had.

The only thing that he regularly did on weekends was call his mother. That was a holdover from deployment, when often his only chance to call home would be on Fridays. It wasn't really necessary anymore. He could call whenever he liked and his mother no longer worried about him constantly the way she would when he was in a warzone. Neither had said much during that call yesterday. It had been a pretty ordinary week for both of them. Kevin remembered even using the phrase "pretty ordinary week" during the conversation. He marveled at how boring life could be.

He settled on taking out the trash. He simply had to do something, and this satiated his need to combat the clutter without falling under the umbrella of cleaning up after the pair of pack-rats he lived with. Cleaning up someone else's mess irritated him even more than the clutter itself. Plus he ran the risk of throwing out something that one of them "needed." As he walked out the front door with the bulging trash bag he chuckled aloud at the thought of someone "needing" that bin of cassette tapes, or whatever devious implements were in the drawers labeled "things that cut stuff" or "missing a few pieces."

Kevin noticed that the door on the mailbox was slightly ajar as he walked out to the curb. He made his deposit, leaving the trash can lid in a similar state before walking over to check the mail. Inside he found a stack of letters that made the proximity of the trash can very convenient. Faceless solicitations addressed to "resident," "consumer," "Our friends at:" or half a dozen of the house's previous occupants flitted before his eyes as he rejected them all in quick succession. He flipped the door shut as he turned to go back to the trash can, but the sound that the mailbox made had him turning right back around just as fast. Rather than a metal clink, the door swung shut with a dry crunch and a squeak that he nearly mistook for a vocal sound at first. There was obviously a more reasonable explanation than his mailbox talking to him. Perhaps it had something to do with how the door wouldn't close all the way. In any case, such an event merited significant attention on such an otherwise painfully uneventful day.

A closer inspection turned up a manila envelope casually stuffed into the box such that it bent in half, following the arch at the top of the box and concealing it from view. Disappointed with the rather mundane answer to what was admittedly a rather mundane problem, he nearly left the parcel as it was. Yet his curiosity had been officially piqued, so he carefully extracted the envelope. It looked like it had been to hell and back. Wrinkles and odd edges caught on the opening of the box.

"I wonder how long this has been in there..." Kevin mumbled.

The scent that accompanied the envelope's extraction struck him as an odd chemical odor, but a soft, light one, rather than something caustic. Fresh glue, he surmised; his brain kicking into investigative mode at the slightest hint of something remotely interesting going on. The flap was sealed with a wide strip of packing tape. The sender must've been quite concerned about this making it here all right. He probably would've been disappointed about how it appeared to have been treated. He flipped over the now fascinating envoy to look for a postmark.

"Two weeks old." He mused, now talking out loud to himself. "There goes the fresh glue theory..."

The date was about the only part he could read well. The location was completely illegible. It looked like the stamp hadn't landed squarely due to the envelope's uneven surface. He wiped his fingers over the stamp hoping to clarify it. He could feel that the envelope's contents were quite misshapen as well. Whatever was inside yielded to the slight pressure as he rubbed the stamp, but it became no more legible.

A smile traced across his face. Old memories of the care packages he used to get from home during his time overseas bubbling to the surface. They often presented themselves in a similar manner; large, beat up envelopes filled with letters from various family and friends, with an assortment of extras included. Newspaper clippings, greeting cards, occasionally more practical things like blister-packs of aspirin. One had a few condoms in it. Someone definitely overestimated how adventurous he was. He never did figure out whom though.

Kevin was snapped out of his revelry the moment his gaze fell on the return address. The parts he could make out didn't look like any person or place he'd ever heard of. That brought up a distinctly different set of memories. The powerful apprehension of combat that he had worked so hard to overcome since his discharge had suddenly gripped him with an iron fist. Old mission readiness training flashed to the forefront of his consciousness. An unexpected package with an odd shape and an odd smell, sealed with a lot of tape, bearing an illegible address and postmark...

"Son of a bitch." Kevin whispered.

His breathing quickened, apprehension replaced by adrenaline. His legs tensed, telling him to run or panic. As it had so many times before, the stoic clarity of his combat training swept aside his base instincts, saving him from himself. He abruptly bit back his heavy breathing.

"Get a hold of yourself Kev." He thought desperately. "You've probably breathed in a half-million spores already."

He jerked the envelope away from his face, cursing himself for how closely he had been examining it.

"Maybe you got lucky. Two weeks in the hot, dry environment of the mailbox probably denatured the agent. That is, assuming it is agent and not a bomb."

The second possibility came to light because such a large envelope would've been unnecessary to mail a pinch of lethal powder. That didn't match up with what he felt though. The package had been bent into a curve; there was no indication of a circuit board or other hardware that comprised a bomb. What could be soft and flexible and also kill you? He thought of the package's smell.

"A chemical weapon maybe? Could they mail those?" Kevin began to notice that his conspiracy theories were getting unabashedly wild. "I've never heard of such a thing, and why would they waste a new and terrifying weapon on some no name grunt? Wait, who did they address this to anyway?"

The stack of propaganda meant for the trash thwacked against the curb and scattered in all directions as the unwanted missives were tossed about by the wind. Kevin stared in disbelief at the package. It was his address all right, but it didn't say Kevin Kahler, or Sergeant Kahler, or Mr. Kahler or whatever else. The name was simply "Spands."

This stunned Kevin even more than the thought that he could be the target of a terrorist attack. Spands was an online username that he adopted when chatting online with... a certain group of people. He hated to admit it, but that group was based on a fetish for latex inflatables that he secretly adored browsing. The thought that someone knew about that brought the panic right back. But it was dispelled by his ever-vigilant sense of humor, and irony.

"Hmph, I'm more worried that someone will find out that I get off to pooltoys with strategically placed holes than I am about opening up an envelope that probably contains some diabolical incendiary device that disperses a flesh eating bacterial strain using my own burning corpse as a wick. If I survive, my priorities are getting a major overhaul."

He stared at the name, checking again and again that he had read it right. Of course he had, it was one of few legible things on it. Would they really stoop that low? Pretending to be furries or guys with the hots for a petroleum byproduct just to sneak personal information out of people?

"Of course they would." He spat. Remembering the time he had to radio for an Explosive Ordinance Disposal tech when someone handed a member of his squad a baby that just so happened to be attached to a kilo of C4. EOD did their thing and no one died, that time.

"But still, how?" Kevin racked his brain. Many people were pretty nonchalant about information security, but he took it seriously. He avoided social-networking sites and dating sites and the like, they're pretty much designed to spread personal information as wide as possible. He wouldn't fall for anything like that online. Someone would have to straight up ask for his mailing address and-

"No..." He whispered as a certain event about a month ago came to mind. He slumped to his knees in defeat. They had found his weak spot and here was their strike directly to it. How could he let this happen? He was a freaking marine! He wasn't supposed to have weak spots! The guilt-ridden part of him that always seemed to speak up when he thought about such things chimed in with a little gem about how they're probably not supposed to fantasize about going down on Snoopy during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade either.

He hadn't thought of what a huge mistake he'd made until just now. When he'd come upon the ad for those balloon vixens a month ago, he thought only of how fantastic it would be to own one. He'd given more thought to the impassioned plea that he included in the e-mail than the mailing address he also provided.

"Beware of things that seem too good to be true..."

The old advice of his operational security rep echoed through Kevin's head. The online offer was certainly that. All those beautiful vixens, free to a good home. All they wanted was your address so that they could send one to you. More nightmare scenarios flashed across his frantic mind. The investigation into his death would certainly include his online contacts. He hid his vices well, but federal investigators could crack his computer's safeguards without breaking a sweat. All of those secrets would come to light, and that would be his permanent impression on the world. The guy with the thing for latex that never really made something of himself.

His thoughts drifted back to why he'd made that fateful decision. He knew it was unusual, but losing himself in those fantasies was among few things that made him happy. Really happy. There was certainly a reason latex was so popular in sex toys and the like. He'd found a local adult shop that he'd once dared himself to go to a few weeks after he'd moved in. His shyness about the subject quickly evaporated after he found that they catered to his soft spot for inflatables.

He now had a tab going there. He told himself that it was because a tab allowed the store to charge credit card purchases under the name of an inauspicious front company. 'Tripoli Enterprises...' Like the front fooled anyone. It didn't take a detective to make the connection from Tripoli to triple-E, as in Evan's Erotica Emporium. He really did it because he knew he'd be spending a lot there. So far he'd come home with several latex undershirts that he found himself wearing with ever-increasing frequency, along with a few other wearables.

He had of course come up with an excuse for wearing those as well, one that wasn't entirely made up. He loved the feel of the latex against his skin. The closeness reminded him of the bullet proof vest he used to wear. It was a great comfort in a place where everything was out to get him. It was nice, but what he really sought was a companion. A kind of inflatable stuffed animal. It was so hard to keep a stable relationship when his life was pledged towards a greater cause, and he could be swept away to a far off corner of the globe at any time. He had never managed more than a passing fling.

Even though he was in college now, where no such restrictions existed, he still felt as though he had become entirely out of touch with romance. That's why he had jumped on the offer when he saw it without thinking about what he was doing. Even now there was a little voice inside him that told him it might be the truth. The answer to his loneliness might be in his hands.

"Boy, they really got me." He said. "I'm considering risking my life for a chance at having a toy to befriend."

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he started to believe it. None of his conspiracy theories seemed to fit entirely. He acknowledged the possibility that it's just as likely that someone was not trying to kill him. Maybe he was stuck in the war mindset. Small noises in the night always woke him up, he was hyper-aware of any movement in the periphery of his vision, and he was unduly suspicious of, well everything. The most recent example being the current postal crisis he faced.

He shook the suspicious package gently. Rather than solid contents sliding around like he had expected, the contents remained in place. Slightly more vigorous shaking yielded a slight shift in the misshapen bulges that protruded from the surface of the paper. He squeezed a particularly thick bulge. He noted another texture beyond the crinkling of the abused paper. It was a soft, yielding substance. He definitely got the sense of layers sliding past one another under his touch.

"It actually seems kind of flimsy." Kevin thought.

He held it up to the sunlight, trying to get a better idea of its shape. He couldn't see much, but he noted that the envelope took on a slight green tinge. It was a rather dark shade of green, from what he could tell. The oblong mass did indeed consist of various layers and wrinkles, producing numerous variations of light and dark color. It looked like one solid thing. No little devices or intricate workings that might comprise a nefarious death machine. The small voice that told him he really had the gift he asked for got louder and more insistent by the moment. Kevin stood again, pondering this near-literal opening of a can of worms.

"One of two things is going to happen." He said, trying to compose himself. "Either it's really the thing I've been waiting for, or it's going to leap out and burn my face off."

He could actually think of a number of other things it could be. Another advertisement, a hoax, a very elaborate 'yiff in hell furfag!' from a forum troll, but he decided to focus on the two possibilities that really mattered.

"For better or for worse, if I open this, today is about to get much more interesting."

That sounded like an excellent outcome to Kevin's painfully bored mind. He weighed the possibly lethal consequences. Could it really be that bad? Death might be a nice alternative to the way he had been living recently. He'd considered suicide before, albeit under much more extreme circumstances.

He and his detachment had to drop out of their convoy in the middle of an uncontrolled zone to protect a crew while they repaired their broken down tank. They couldn't have been in a more vulnerable position. It was the greatest fear he had ever known, seeing a line of battered trucks, almost certainly filled with terrorists, coming over the horizon. The whole time knowing that help was beyond reach and that there was no more defensible position for them to take.

There had been plenty of time for them to take cover, but that just made the fight even more protracted when the attack finally came. It went on long enough for Kevin to consider, and then dissuade himself from committing suicide. The battle, the deployment, his contract, even the war would ultimately end, but the grief of his family and friends would not. He took the enlistment oath prepared to give his life, but he refused to accept a cowardly death by his own hand. But a heroic one, one that accomplished some good... that was what he signed up for.

He surveyed the scene in a quick glance, four beat up trucks, each with two gunmen in the cab, plus about a half dozen that had leapt from the truckbeds and taken up shooing positions behind them. One was already face down in the sandy road, and one of the trucks had a limp body hanging out of the passenger's side door. They didn't have a bomber or they would've used him already. No suicide bomber meant that at least some of them would prefer to leave this attack alive. They might retreat if he could hit them hard enough. He summoned up memories of all the terrible things he'd seen these men do to steel his resolve. He lit up a fury he never knew he had.

"I could get them to withdraw..." He growled. "Or I could fucking kill them all."

Kevin leapt out from behind the tank and charged his enemy with a primal shout. The lead truck had no windshield, he quickly took advantage of this, hurling a grenade into the cab. The occupants left themselves wide open to the shots of the other Marines as they leapt from the truck. As Kevin raised his M-16, the occupants of another truck started yelling frantically and took off, firing at Kevin as they drove past him.

He instinctively crouched to reduce his profile, turning the motion into a spin to keep his eyes on the truck as it sped off. He became aware of the scope in front of his eye, and the tightening of his finger on the trigger. Everything else faded away. He heard only gentle whispers and a soft whooshing sound that he would later find out were the shouts of his friends and the explosion of the truck behind him. All that he could perceive in that moment was the crosshairs falling on the head of the driver as he fired.

As the truck spun off and crashed into a ditch, sensation and awareness returned to him. Heat on his back from the burning truck, pinging of shrapnel and gravel against his uniform, the chaotic cacophony of battle. One sound rose above the rest.

"KAHLER!"

It was one of his friends, still behind the tank. He glanced behind him to see the driver of the truck with the dead passenger angling his AK-47 out the window at him. Kevin would never be able to raise his rifle in time, but the man who shouted the warning was a Marine, not the type to shout a warning and then stand there looking stupid. When a shot rang out, Kevin didn't feel the sting of a bullet, he merely saw the gunman tumble from the cab. He gave a quick glance back at his friend as he stood and turned to face the enemy again. That look conveyed everything Kevin was thinking as he took off running towards the final truck.

The marine on the receiving end would later say that he had seen the face of death at that moment. He didn't say anything to stop Kevin because he knew that would be impossible. And reportedly, because that look "Scared the ever-loving shit" out of him.

The roar of the truck's engine was a piteous mewl compared to Kevin's bloodcurdling battlecry as he charged at the oncoming truck. Them trying to run him down changed nothing, he would die in this charge, and so would they. Kevin might not have thought so, but it most certainly did change something. He had nowhere near enough time to stop running and level his rifle at the truck in the time it would take to hit him. The truck appeared to slow down abruptly even as it accelerated straight for Kevin.

In an unreal moment of clarity, he stepped casually up onto the bumper, as he would do if he were working on it and trying to get a better look at the engine. He planted a boot on the hood before the truck's momentum swept his legs out from under him. He rolled, hoping his body armor would take the impact with the windshield. He heard a sickening crunch, one he recognized as ribs breaking, that told him he was probably wrong about the body armor.

He found himself lying down amidst a hail of flying shards of glass as he began to black out, the driver's face right in front of him. The rifle across his chest just so happened to be pointed directly at it. Consciousness began to ebb away from him, a giddy warmth replacing the exhilaration of battle. He squeezed the trigger with all the strength he had left, and even laughed out loud as the darkness swept over him. It was finally over.

The next face he saw was that of a corpsman at the evac hospital. Kevin's sight was partially obscured by a bandage around his head. The medic placed a firm hand on Kevin's chest when he started awake and sat up.

"At ease soldier," He stated. "Your wounds weren't too extensive but you should still stay in bed for awhile."

Kevin couldn't understand. He had lived. His chest felt sore and weak, but remarkably solid under the corpsman's hand.

"How-" He stammered. "How did I not even break any-"

"Oh you broke ribs, make no mistake." The confident drawl of his commanding officer assured him. "They just weren't yours."

His beaming superior strided smoothly over to his bedside.

"After you smashed through the windshield and crushed that bastard to death with your own body, and then laughed in the face of the driver before blowing his head off, anyone that was still alive surrendered." He explained. "You were thrown from the truck when it crashed into our tank. A good twenty yards or so. The surviving passenger from that truck that tried to drive away got to you before we did. You were lucky though. He had thrown down his weapon and was on his knees next to you. Our interpreter says he was begging you not to eat his soul or something. Every last one of them thought you were some kind of berserk demon. Some of our guys included."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather-bound case.

"It takes balls of wrought iron to scare these SOBs." He quipped, placing the case in Kevin's hand. "But 'craziest motherfucker this side of Qandah?r' isn't a medal, so this will have to do."

Kevin flipped open the case with his thumb and looked inside.

"A Silver Star sir?" He gasped.

"The good doc didn't say anything about amnesia," the Captain scoffed. "You know what you did, correct?"

"Uhh, kicked ass as far as I remember."

"Indeed," he affirmed with a passive smirk. "But Marines kick ass a lot without their shirts getting any heavier. You saved lives soldier, a lot of them. I didn't have to consult with a tactical analyst on this one. Any idiot could tell that you and your boys were about to get fucked up. Best case scenario had 'only half' of your squad getting out of there in a bag."

"How many actually did?" Kevin asked, suddenly terrified that one of his friends got killed while he was out playing 'die hard.'

"Your internal hemorrhaging, torn ligaments, shrapnel wounds and that laceration on your forehead made you the most severely injured in the bunch. That make you feel better?"

"Not exactly sir..."

"Not as much as an itemized breakdown of the casualties? Fine. Staff Sergeant Miles got winged on the shoulder. Tried to refuse treatment for it too, freaking jarhead. Settled for getting stitches with no local anesthetic in the end. Lance Corporal Vickers took a bullet through his left hand. He'll lose some higher level function. You know, playing the guitar, crochet, performing surgery and the like. I doubt it'll bother him if he can still unhook a bra. Everyone else had wounds that could be legitimately be shrugged off, pepper shrapnel and superficial burns mostly. Better now?"

"Well I was actually going to say that the fact that I have internal hemorrhaging was not particularly comforting."

"You'll be fine too." He placed his hand of Kevin's bandaged forehead. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"That's thoughtful but I think I'll take my chances."

"Now that's more like it, Sergeant." The officer stated.

"I- I'm a Corporal sir..."

"You callin' me a liar Marine?"

He could only shake his head in response.

"Damn straight." He stood and walked towards the tentflap. "Now get some rest while you can. I'm sure you'll have some very enthusiastic guests tomorrow morning."

Kevin looked down and noticed that the medal he was holding had somehow turned into an envelope. The rough, woolen blanket and bloodied bandages on wrapped around him vanished as he was shaken from his nostalgia.

Kevin's instincts were now telling him to go for it. His last suicide attempt had certainly turned out for the best. Something that very few can claim. His resolve faltered though, as he approached the point of no return; his fingers gently pulling back the corner of the tape. It made his problems seem pretty insignificant when he was confronted by his own mortality in such a direct and physical fashion. Was life really all that bad? Was this really worth the risk of dying?

A smooth, buttery touch against his fingertip brought his attention back to the flap of the envelope. Apparently he had accidentally pulled hard enough to split the beaten and worn corner of the package open, its contents poking out of the small tear to encounter his fingers. He slowly stroked the tiny patch of green material. It was cool, soft and smooth, just like...

"Latex!" He cried; yanking on the exposed corner and rending the envelope to tatters. Those torn remnants flapped to the ground along with a small card as the no-longer-threatening contents were strung out into Kevin's arms. He cradled the wrinkled mass of plastic for a moment before stumbling forward, suddenly feeling faint. He caught himself, realizing that the whole time he had been wrestling with this decision he had been tensed up with his knees locked. It had been disrupting his circulation for some time.

The reflexive counter-balancing swing of his arms brought the toy up against the skin of his face. That bizarre, inviting scent assailed his nostrils, the smooth caress of the rubber stroked his cheek. He looked down through the material. The brilliant, deep emerald green made fantastic, dancing patterns in the sunlight. It was but a twisted amalgam of latex, yet Kevin was already enraptured by it. The surface was perfect, too perfect. He scanned the balloon, looking for any imperfection, or more specifically, the one imperfection he needed to find; a valve.

"Ok, I've got nothing." Kevin admitted, finishing off his third thorough inspection of the toy's body. "I guess that's why it came with instructions..."

Kevin draped the balloon over his arm, retrieved the card from the grass and read:

Hi! This is just a list of reminders and pointers I put together to help you enjoy your balloon vixen lover to the utmost.

1. Remember that this balloon is a living, sometimes-breathing, thinking and feeling creature. Treat her as such!

2. As far as food goes, your vixen is quite picky. Anything latex or rubbery will do as far as food, though I suspect that the bulk of her nourishment will come from your own semen, or vaginal lubrication if you happen to be female. They feed on this stuff, using it to thicken their skins and, 'customize' themselves. Don't be alarmed if she changes her appearance drastically over the course of your relationship, she's just making her 'template' body fit her personality.

3. Popping. I know this might worry you, so pay attention. Yes, your vixen *can* pop, especially when you first receive her. Her skin is thin, and any extreme pressure may cause her to explode. Don't panic if this happens! She's all right! It will take a little while to 'pull herself together,' that's all. Keep all the pieces in one place, all touching if possible. When the balloon looks to be one piece again, re-inflate her. You'll find her none the worse for wear. She may even like being popped; you'll just have to find out...

4. I won't spoil the other surprises you may receive from associating with the exotic and gorgeous vixen-balloons. Just remember, they can do things you've never even dreamed of! If you have further questions, either ask your balloon or email me. Good luck!

"Hmph." He said, shoving the card into his pocket and walking back into the house. "Good to know that there's someone out there crazier than me I suppose. But it doesn't say anything about how I'm supposed to get the air in."

He kicked off his shoes at the door and walked back into the living room, laying his precious cargo on the couch. He spread out the limp form and started to pull out some of the wrinkles in the limbs, hoping that he had missed something. The head was leaned up against the armrest, seeming to watch him as he worked. It was remarkable how well-formed certain details like its, well, her eyes were, seeing as the features were obviously feminine. Her gaze seemed distraught though, almost pleading, from what he could read of her wilted face. He was nonetheless drawn to her drooping visage. He practically drooled as he looked at her. Well, not quite practically. He heard the faint tap of a drop of saliva hitting the latex in front of him, but when he looked down, it was gone.

"I must've been hearing things." He muttered. God, he could just kiss her, and he wasn't just saying that. "Maybe I should follow my instincts."

He lifted the vixen up so that her lips, or some reasonable approximation of them, met his. The cold contact of her wilted muzzle was a bit of a letdown, but he did find that her mouth was open, and perfectly capable of accepting his breath. He took a second breath, seeing the air spread through the balloon and dissipate. He knew this was going to take awhile. He gathered his companion up in his arms and stood to that he could get deeper breaths. With his arms wrapped around her burgeoning torso, he could feel his warmth spreading through her body, egging him on. His chest felt tight, but he could do one more breath, just one...

"Wuh...ohh..." He mumbled, staggering a bit and flopping back onto the couch. "Phew, break time..." The heavy sigh aggravated his dizziness. He relaxed and leaned his head back, kicking back and putting his feet up in more ways than one. A euphoria unrelated to the hyperventilation filled him as he relaxed and watched the colors swirl before his eyes against the shiny green backdrop. Having the new slightly springy vixen lay on top of him made him happier than he had been in months. It was definitely worth nearly giving himself a heart attack four times. He smiled as he thought back on the scope of his overreaction; his eyelids drooping as his body unwittingly relaxed more and more. The light touch of his companion's form was strangely comforting. He wrapped his arms around her as he tumbled into the deepest sleep he'd known in many years.

---

It was very dark. He couldn't identify where he was, the room appeared empty, save for a very comely woman lounging in the corner. Her voluptuous, jet black hair cascaded about her shapely face. She was clad in a tight green dress made of a smooth, shiny material; green lipstick and earrings to match. She raised a bubble wand to her lips and blew gently. Emerald green bubbles leapt from the wand and drifted about, sparkling vividly even against the mysterious blackness.

As is often the case in dreams, the rational part of Kevin's brain that wanted things to be explained was turned off. He had not the slightest impulse to figure out what was going on. He was entirely content to watch the twinkling orbs glide about. One particularly large bubble drifted up to his face and came to rest on his lips. The touch was light, but still with more substance that he expected from a bubble. He puckered obligingly and the bubble popped. Yet the pressure on his lips remained. He tired to look to the strange woman for answers, but she and the other bubbles had vanished.

"Mmmuh, what?" Kevin opened his eyes, only for his gaze to meet that of two cartoonishly exaggerated eyes at the other end of a long muzzle that pressed up against his face. He heard a dull hiss as his breath slowly leaked into her through the kiss.

"Well now," He said, breaking the kiss. "Taking matters into our own hands now are we?" He felt a little foolish talking to the toy, but he couldn't help but revel in this amusing little coincidence. It appeared that the grip he had around her waist had squeezed enough air into her upper half to give some life to her head, and the two sultry orbs right below Kevin's chin as well. Now that he saw what potential she had, he simply had to inflate her the rest of the way. Practically leaping from the couch, he brought the vixen's lips back to his. With astounding vigor, he forced a rush of air into his companion. Ripples radiated out from her mouth, a testament to the force of Kevin's breath. Her body rounded and filled out with successive breaths.

Kevin couldn't help but chuckle as her tail sprang to life, premoulded into alluring curve. It was so innocent and fanciful, yet attractive in a very adult way. Kevin could feel the backpressure building on his next breath as his new vixen neared completely full. The warm air was beginning to leak back out of her mouth in between breaths. Kevin couldn't see a way to seal her mouth off, but who needed one? Kissing her forever sounded like a perfectly reasonable, and positively marvelous option. Small squeaks and hisses started to accompany the escape of air. Kevin had closed his eyes to bask in the warmth of his own returned breath when he heard what was unmistakably a heady moan escape with the hot breath.

His eyes snapped open, to meet those of the vixen again. She was looking at him, not coincidentally this time, her head turned independently to meet his gaze. He stared back, entranced, before a sudden slap to the face brought him around, causing him to drop the vixen in surprise. It didn't really hurt, his vulpine friend recoiled more than he did due to her barely existent weight. Kevin gaped at her as she crossed her arms in front of her and drifted to the floor, coming to rest on her puffy toes. He could think of nothing to say. Not only had he brought this ravishing beauty to life, he had somehow incurred the full force of her squeaky wrath. However, no such situation stayed her tongue.

"How could you leave me crammed in there all that time?" Her soft voice sharpening to the point that it made Kevin take a step back. "It's not fun you know, being all crinkled up and shoved into an envelope. All that blistering heat during the day, I thought I would melt! I tried to get out, pushing and pushing against the edges of that envelope but I'm just not that strong without any air in me! And when I finally made some headway with that stupid envelope you know what I found? It was locked in another box! What kind of sick joke is that?"

In the course of watching her flail her arms about, Kevin noticed that one of her fingers was still flopping about lazily, the edges having become stuck together while she was, as she said 'crammed in that tiny envelope.'

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Kevin was still utterly speechless. He couldn't help but watch her degenerate finger flop about. The one imperfection that marred her picturesque beauty. It was all he could think to do...

"Here," He said, extending his hand. "Let me help you with that."

She scoffed, but placed her hand in his. He noticed that her hands were quite detailed, despite the cartoon-like omission of a finger. Her shape mimicked musculature quite effectively. Kevin set to the task of restoring her deflated third finger. Having become unduly familiar with intricate balloons over the years, Kevin knew that simply stretching the digit would cause the two sides to snap apart, allowing it to fill with air. A satisfying smack signaled this as the finger neared four times its original length, seeming to require no effort or discomfort on the part of its owner to do so. Kevin let go of her wrist and finger, her hand snapping back to its proper shape with a resounding thunk that echoed through her body. The creature flexed her fingers experimentally before looking back to her human counterpart.

"Thanks, I guess." She grunted. "Though I wouldn't be all smushed up if you had retrieved me a little sooner."

Kevin thought over all the emotional turmoil he had gone through doing just that. It all certainly paled in comparison to having the life crushed out of you for weeks on end with no hope of rescue.

"I... I'm so sorry..." He choked. All the stress and bad memories of yesterday weighed on him once more, coupled with how terribly he had mistreated such an extraordinary creature. "I... It just... Excuse me." He ran up to his room before he totally lost his composure.

"Oh dear..." The solitary vixen sighed. "Now I've done it. I shouldn't have been so hard on him. I didn't think it was possible to be bad at this, this... whatever it is I'm doing. I should apologize."

As she walked past the couch, a familiar scent perked up her nose. She suddenly became aware of how hungry the journey had made her. The smell was remarkably similar to her own, but much less feminine. She traced it to a bunched up wad under the couch. The black mass stretched almost as much as her arm did and she attempted to wrench it from under the couch. A satisfying snap brought the unidentified lump up from its hiding place. She quickly recognized a pair of latex boxers, the heady musk that surrounded them alluding to what they had been used for in the past. Her mouth watered as she took in the thick, heady aroma, her body swelling notably as she took in as much as she could get. Latex and just a touch of the good stuff, it was the perfect food!

"Hmmmm..." She purred, slowly releasing the pressure she had built up and squeaking a bit as she licked her chops. "Looks like I'm certainly in the right place."

Already halfway through stuffing them down her throat before thinking of how she was technically stealing, she admonished:

"Well, he won't miss one pair. Besides, he has me now."

She finished off the thought with a low rumble. A new hunger filling her even as the shorts were rapidly dissolved by her gut. She gulped down the last of her slick saliva as she padded silently up the stairs, following that positively delicious smell back to its original source.

Kevin buried his face in his hands as he stood alone in his room. His dreams had just come to life downstairs and he couldn't even enjoy it. How did he get so messed up that happiness was entirely beyond him? He felt another pair of arms drape themselves over his own as he wringed his hands worriedly. The vixen's barely perceptible weight fell upon his shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I doubt that you've got the stones to strangle me vix." Kevin sighed. "Though feel free to try. Lord knows I'd be better off not breathing."

She flipped up and over his shoulders, coming to rest on the windowsill, facing him in a sitting position. A gymnastic feat possible only by those that happened to have digigrade legs and weigh three ounces. Her tail curled and uncurled reflexively at her side as she spoke.

"Oh you don't mean that." She cooed, her voice uncannily claming. "Wait, vix? Is that a nickname for me?" She asked with a bright, beaming smile.

If that smile had plucked Kevin's heartstrings any harder, they would've been ripped right out of his chest. The early morning light coming through the window behind her, indeed through her, gave the being before him an ideal, even angelic quality. Renewed tears squeezed out of his eyes, this time from joy.

"Well, no it's not a nickname really." He admitted sheepishly. "It's just short for 'vixen,' since that's all I really have to call you."

"Oh..." She said. Her ears, in fact most of her body drooped visibly. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"No it's not that I uh..." Kevin fumbled his words as he rushed to undo the damage. He wanted nothing more than for that smile to come back. "It's just, you never introduced yourself! What's your name miss?"

"Oh! You know I never did." She said, 'brightening' was quite apropos in describing what she did as she spoke. Patches and swirls of emerald light danced across the walls in response to her movements. "Well I, I don't actually have a name to be honest. That's the main reason I'm not too quick to introduce myself I guess."

A coy giggle followed. It was so endearing, Kevin almost felt physically pulled towards her.

"Fair enough," He declared. "Well, I'm Kevin. I couldn't be more pleased to make your acquaintance." He extended his hand and gave a slight bow, not knowing what sort of cultural traditions anthropomorphic foxes made of latex observed.

She grasped his hand, saying:

"Well it's lovely to meet you too."

As his fingers curled around hers, it seemed only natural to Kevin to pull his new friend closer to him and wrap her arms around her. The initial cool kiss of her skin waned as she warmed from the embrace. The contact seemed to fill her with chaotic energy.

"Oh I simply must know everything about you Kevin. What are you thinking about? What took you so long with the mail? What were you mumbling in your sleep back on the couch? Are you always hanging around an empty house late in the evening-"

Apparently she released such energy by chattering uncontrollably.

"...What size are your shoes? Do you like- mmmfffrrmm... mmmmm..."

A kiss from Kevin cur her off abruptly, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You talk too much." He chided.

"Oh do I? I hadn't ever noticed that I'll have to work on it sometime it's just you see I haven't had someone to talk to in a very long time and it's hard to- mmgrrmrrrrghhh..."

Her continued attempts at speech through the kiss quickly dissolved into a pleasured murr. Kevin was about to break the kiss to quip about his little chatterbox again, but he saw no reason to. In fact, he found himself drawing her closer and putting more force into the kiss. The energy within his companion seemed to be heating her from the inside. And she wasn't the only one. Her hand squeaked loudly as it stroked across Kevin's sweaty flesh. The sound was just out of place enough to make Kevin break off the kiss.

He found himself gasping for air. His companion too in her own way. He felt her whole body shrink and swell slightly with each breath she took. Her energy seemed to seek escape in a much different way now. Her arms were largely pinned down by the great big bear hug Kevin had her trapped in, but she apparently had enough dexterity in her wrists to pop open Kevin's fly and drop the zipper. Before Kevin could react, one of her legs curled up and shoved his pants and underwear down around his ankles in one swift swing.

"Whoa, now wait a second." Kevin sputtered, though without much force behind the words.

"Oh come now Kevin." She chided. "It's fairly obvious that you're just as excited as I am. If not more so!"

Kevin's now exposed member throbbed urgently, making it obvious that his protests weren't in line with what he was really feeling.

"Kevin junior doesn't speak for both of us you know." He joked as the agile beauty in his arms wriggled her way down onto her knees.

"You talk too much." She said, getting in position to get to know Kevin junior better.

"Do I?" Kevin mocked. "I'll have to work on- Guuurruh!!"

The sudden embrace of that muzzle around his cock made Kevin's whole body shudder. All thought was banished from his mind, save for the amazing sensation in his loins and his efforts to stave off falling forward from his convulsions. He wanted this to last as long as possible and had no desire to leave his teeth on the windowsill. Her cheeks and jaws massaged his length in ways he never thought possible. The mysterious heat from deep within his lover soaked into him, pushing back any resistance, not that Kevin had any mind to try to stop this. He held the back of her head and stroked her ears, wanting to feel as much of his lover's flesh against him as possible. The logical part of Kevin's mind kept trying to ask questions that were utterly meaningless in the moment. He could never finish a complete thought anyway.

"How is this possi- oh yes right there! How does she know how to-"

"Oh my God you have a tongue!" He cried. Marveling at both the amazing detail of her anatomy at her skill at using it.

Of course the vixen could say nothing, but she communicated well enough. A gentle "mmmhhmm" when her ears were stroked let Kevin know he was doing well, and sent indescribable tingling sensations shooting up his spine as the walls around his cock resonated sensually. Any time it looked like Kevin was enjoying something in particular, she obliged by doing it as much as possible, keeping up her occasional murrs for his benefit. When Kevin yelled out loud about her tongue, she wrapped it deftly around his shaft, drawing slowly upwards before shoving his foreskin down again with a force unbelievable in magnitude and sensation. That was a 'Damn right I have a tongue!' if Kevin had ever felt one.

Kevin thrust involuntarily, hilting himself in that magnificent muzzle. He squeezed out a few drops of precum, but could feel nothing but latex around his prick. Another question he had not the slightest desire to investigate. The strong, blissful stimulation finally made his knees buckle, dragging the pair to the floor. Kevin leaned back against the bed, relaxing to focus on this wondrous experience more. His legs kicked and twitched, finally free to react to the convulsions taking place in his abdomen. This was satisfying him in a way he could only dream of previously.

Deep within his mind, Kevin finally let go. He finally released the stranglehold on his emotions that he had taken up during basic training. He took down the walls around his heart that he had needed to keep on fighting even while untold carnage was literally exploding all around him. Finally letting his guard down was exhilarating, and so beautiful that Kevin wept. He wept blistering hot tears of rage, grief and anguish. He wept for the fate of every life destroyed by war, for the friends he had been helpless to save, for the orphaned children and widowed wives of the men he had killed, and for himself, who had given so much only to be rewarded with suffering and torment. The release was astounding, and in the moment even sensual. He cried out as another wave of ecstasy enveloped him, his seed spurting into the head of his lover. It had been so long...

As she finally drew her mouth off of Kevin's miraculously dry cock, his thick cream streaked down the inside of the vixen's head, then abruptly stopped, and seemed to somehow flow into her 'skin' as it were, rapidly fading and dissipating down into her body. He told himself he didn't care how that worked, but couldn't stop himself from mumbling in confusion.

"Mrwuh? What the-"

"Oh," She squeaked. "Don't mind that, I'm just- whoaaaahh!"

Her explanation was interrupted by Kevin suddenly grabbing her arm and throwing her onto the bed. Well, not so much throwing as she actually moved very slowly when suspended in the air, but she got there with remarkable speed. Just time enough for Kevin to literally leap out of his pants while tearing off his shirt in an extraordinarily smooth motion before throwing himself on top of her. In a fit of lust, Kevin had forgotten the rather precarious nature of the skin that comprised his new girlfriend. He was airborne by the time he realized it though, so he had to hope for the best. His lover-turned crash-mat's eyes widened slowly, then suddenly sprung open into terrified orbs that protruded sickeningly from her head as Kevin's bulk squished the air up into her head and limbs, exaggerating their cartoony proportions.

She was glad for the extra strength she had gained from those shorts, had Kevin been a bit less copious with his first load, or a bit more conservative with his choice of underwear, she might be splattered all over the room right now. Though that might be preferable, she was practically paralyzed, and the distortion of her head was very disorienting. But as Kevin realized his mistake and scrambled to get off of the now heavily extruded canid, she began to notice how his hips were grinding her clit up against her back, the two having been flattened together. It was like getting fucked from the inside. The feeling was so unexpectedly satisfying that she lost control of her reforming appendages. Her arms flopping about and her head drooping to the side as her tongue lolled lazily onto the pillow. Viewing this apparent loss of motor function, Kevin started to panic.

"My God. I'm so sorry, I just, lost control of myself there." He gasped. He began to despair seeing no response from his lover. When he started recognizing the movements as those of pleasure he felt rather foolish, nearly laughing at himself. He decided he might as well play it up while he had the chance.

"It finally happened." He sobbed. "I killed someone with my cock."

The enraptured vixen's tongue flopped about for a bit before being drawn back into her mouth. A sharp breath and a slow "Oooooohhh..." Let Kevin know that she was slowly coming back to him. Her vigor returned with avengance as she suddenly grabbed Kevin's wrist, demanding:

"Do... Do it again..."

"What? N-no it's too dangerous!"

She yanked his arm with a force Kevin thought the light wisp of a woman incapable of exerting.

"AGAIN!"

Kevin knew enough not to ignore an order like that. He decided that denying her would be an even more dangerous course of action. He reluctantly crawled back onto the bed and straddled the needful fox. Well, not so reluctantly once he saw the inviting lips of her labia spread before him, somehow dripping with juices that smelled powerfully of her. How had he not noticed those before? Once again adopting a 'questions later' approach, he supported himself with his arms and thrust his still-throbbing shaft down into her waiting opening.

She cried out, her entire body lurching in response to being filled so forcefully. Kevin looked down into the eyes of his new mate, the edges of her bright smile tugging at them as she rolled her head in ecstasy. Making her happy filled him with a sense of peace and comfort that made his whole being rejoice and revel in the pure joy that stemmed from her. Of course, the tight embrace of the slick walls of her entrance helped too, but Kevin liked to think that he was having a moment here.

Unable to do anything by bask in the pleasure that her mate brought to her, the balloon vixen relaxed and lounged on the bed, trying to let him penetrate as deep as he possibly could. She brought a hand to her chest, squeakily grasping one of her breasts. He was being careful not to put too much weight on her, but still, each one of his thrusts squeezed her just enough to make her bust swell admirably, providing her with sweet little aftershocks of tingly pleasure the danced across her chest. She noticed a few droplets of water fall on to the back of her hand, and looked up to see that they were Kevin's tears. Concern for her new mate gave her back enough sense to stroke his cheek and allow the placid smile to fade from her face.

"What's wrong lover?"

Kevin could feel the tears still streaming down his face from earlier. He wasn't sure how he had any left. It had been a rather emotional day. But just as before, the heat of his companion's love had forged his rage and grief into pure joy. Settling his chest onto hers, he mirrored the canine's gesture of caring. He stroked her long and elegant cheek and whispered.

"Nothing... Nothing is wrong. Not anymore, and it never will be as long as I have you to hold, and your arms to wrap around me."

He saw the reflection of his blue eyes in hers. The glow of his dark blond hair in the sunlight was tinted green by her shining skin. Kevin had never realized that he could be so romantic, but he had been waiting his whole life for someone he could say that to, someone that could make him feel truly safe again.

She wasn't sure if she could cry. She could do a lot of things your average party favor couldn't do, was that one of them? Oh how she longed to. She had never experienced a passion so powerful. She begged and pleaded to no one in particular, her very soul aching for a way to express how she felt. Her face squeezed, new structures taking shape at her command. Thin streams of her liquid latex lubricant leaked out from the edges of her eyes. It wasn't perfect, squeezing KY jelly out of your face was rather unromantic in any context, but it would have to do.

They lay there for an eternal moment. Still as statues, both simultaneously realizing that they had brought a joy to each other so great that most go to their graves without ever experiencing it. A delight so profound that it caused a man made of stone and a woman made of plastic both to weep as they never had before. For that moment, it was Nirvana.

Of course fate has a way of ruining such moments, and even events of this magnitude are no exception to its cruel sense of humor. Kevin's slick, sweaty chest lost what little purchase it had atop that of his mate. He slid to the side, offsetting his weight just enough to make the poor fox shoot out from underneath him and tumble off the bed. She landed light as a feather as always, barely bending the carpet fibers as she lit upon them, but the lack of injury did nothing to diminish how absurd and hilarious the event was.

Mirthful laughs escaped them both as Kevin extended a hand to retrieve his projectile lover. He appreciated her laugh as much as he did everything else about her. It was some strange combination of a childish giggle and a fox's yip. Alien, yet a melody that was universally understood. He rolled onto his back to hoist her up onto the bed. The effort was hardly necessary, as the exertion of his pinky finger or a strong current of air could've accomplished the same movement, but it made the motion of drawing her close to him again much smoother. Hoping to hear that beautiful music again, Kevin decided to make light of the situation.

"Sure know how to kill a moment, don't you?"

Far from falling prey to the giggles once more, his mate's voice slipped right back into a sexy drawl as she ran her hands up Kevin's sides, her lips edging ever closer to his.

"I like to think that I know how to revive them too..."

---

Things went much smoother with the lighter of the two on top. The walls of his lover's entrance gripped Kevin's length firmly, but were so flawless he was sure they were incapable of causing him discomfort. As he watched his lover enthusiastically force herself onto his shaft with wild abandon, he was quite sure that this was where she belonged. She needed something to do with all that energy and she had found it. It looked as though she didn't mind doing all the work. In fact she seemed to revel in it. From the way she was going at it, Kevin could tell that he had been going much too slowly for her taste. She grappled around his midsection, the only anchor point that let her get the leverage she needed to take him fully.

Each thrust squeezed a little bit of the liquid latex lubricant out of the vixen's entrance. Kevin wasn't sure where that was coming from, or why he wasn't lying in a pool of it at this point, but it felt tantalizing. A light tingle that soaked into him, amplifying the sensations from his loins and driving him onward. He noticed a similar sensation on his chest and looked down to see that the feral lust driving his mate had started to manifest itself in the form of drool. Hardly the passionate romance of moments ago, but there was something alluring about her bestial rumbling, the twitching of her tail that said 'you're mine!' and the general thrashing of her body.

The rubbery scent of the fluid wafted up in thick waves, mixed with Kevin's own sumptuous musk. Kevin began to notice the same odd feeling on his chest where the droplets fell. The vixen's saliva must have the same properties that her vaginal lubrication did. Kevin paid it no mind as his lover's frantic pace drove him to the edge. He started thrusting up to meet her, the eagerness of his mate rubbing off on him. The contractions of his abdominal muscles built on each other, bringing his climax rapidly closer with each thrust. Kevin wrapped his arms around his mate and drove his cock home hard, pinning the two of them together. The vixen cried out as the sudden force pushed her to her peak. The walls of her entrance rippled, rewarded with generous spurts of cum from Kevin's member.

His load spent, Kevin finally relaxed his hips, but kept his grip on the vixen's body, his need to be close to her as strong as ever. He stroked her back gently as he came down from the high. Her chest resonated with a gentle purr as she did the same. Kevin withdrew his flagging member as consciousness ebbed away from him. He noted that the sun had gone from the window; they must've been at it for some time. His arms ceased responding to his will. He was desperate to caress her more, to let her know that she was everything he had ever wanted. He hoped that he was whispering romantically in her ear, but an unclear mumble was all that made it to the air.

"You... youewer... eva... rreee."

A coy giggle punctuated the vixen's contented murr.

"Hmmm... Who's Eva?"

A flash of lucidity returned to Kevin as he took hold of what she was saying.

"You are, love." He whispered, hefting a very heavy arm up to her cheek, "Eva, my everything, my one greatest love in the world."

"Oh!" Came Eva's choked, elated gasp in reply. "It's perfect."

Kevin felt a few tears drop onto his chest as Eva was momentarily overcome, but it appeared that she was not the type to stay emotional for long. She played her fingers across his chest, smearing the pale green droplets and spreading the exotic tingling as the tiny spots streaked in thin lines from the small, slender claws that tipped Eva's fingers. Her seductive drawl returned as she slid down out of Kevin's arms. In her absence they fell limply to his sides once more.

"But I only know one proper way to say thank you..."

Kevin's paralyzing exhaustion made him want to resist, for a moment anyway. Sleep clawed at the edges of his consciousness as the blood flooded back into his member, it having been welcomed into the inviting folds of Eva's maw once again. She worked up and down the shaft in a slow, deliberate motion; her only focus was expressing her gratitude through pleasure. Kevin wanted nothing more than to enjoy it to the fullest, but his will began to fail at last. A warm sea of bliss gently ushered him out of the waking world.