FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter Eighteen

Monday July 21, 2008

11:04am

"Ready?"

The distinctive blend of canine odor and perfume clung to gray leather, and a small paw fell from a gearshift to press and stroke green mesh.

"Yes."

The answer rumbled from deep in his chest, and Tyson covered the paw on his leg with one of his own.

He had slept well. Better than he had in weeks.

He silently looked across the front row of the Lexus GX as the vehicle backed from his parents' garage.

A wave of sunlight flashed across the sporty black sunglasses which obscured the black shepherd's eyes. A yellow, floral-print painted her svelte figure and accentuated her dark coat, and as she turned the steering wheel the warm sun played over the lines of triceps and biceps left exposed by her halter.

Tyson's grip tightened on the paw in his lap. His muzzle felt heavy, and he clenched his jaws so that he didn't slaver all about the leather interior.

The day of the trip was upon them.

Fields of corn, of great blue sky--hundreds of miles of Interstate and U.S. Highway wound from Sandy to Maxine. They wove south and east, through Indianapolis, through dozens, or perhaps, as it felt, thousands, of small, nameless towns bisected by their four-hour route. An excruciating drive. Tyson, restless, impatient, held his eyes sternly forward, listening as the black shepherd beside him rattled off rants and rumors. He just wanted to be there, damn it.

* * *

4:01pm

Black. An utterly endless darkness which reeked of citrus spray and was kept from the rest of the world by an electronic lock. Stepping forward, new colors emerged to Tyson's adjusting eyes. Vanilla-painted walls. Red carpet embellished by the delicate silhouettes of golden waves. White bedsheets, an olive accent pillow--a single king-size mattress.

Tyson took a long breath and set the bags he had bused upon the floor. "So," he said, turning as the hotel room's door thudded into frame, "what's the plan?"

"I thought we could spend some time together--" said Patricia, smiling, crossing the studio suite, peering into the adjacent kitchen and bathroom before skewing the curtain beside the bed and taking a gander at the first-floor, two-star view--a long, grassy yard and a row of runty houses.

As the curtain fell shut on the sunlit world, Patricia drifted to the foot of the bed, seated herself upon its white sheets. Her dark eyes targeted her son.

"--here."

Tyson advanced on instinct--covering the space between them in two large strides, and he fixed his paws around the black shepherd's bare shoulders.

Their tongues tied in hungry entanglement, teeth and breaths clattering recklessly. Tyson grabbed at the black shepherd's arms, her waist, chest and rump--feeling around, feeling through floral print and tight denim, flirting and eventually, unrestrainedly diving underneath the halter's hem. He traced every line of the black shepherd's abdomen, clawing at muscle, fur and rib.

Tearing from the kiss, Tyson delivered a bite to the black shepherd's neck.

"Oh, fuck yes," Patricia whimpered, back arching--feeding herself to the bite.

The voice dripped, arousing further want. Arousing something more. Something deeper.

Tyson grabbed the black shepherd's wrists, cuffing them, jerking them up and over her head. The shepherd below him stared back with large, lusting eyes--her muzzle open, slobber strung from black lips and pink, panting tongue. An ugly, obscene display. Infuriating. Invigorating.

Keeping the black shepherd's paws pinned, Tyson plunged forward, biting into the meat of one arm. Canines and incisors compressed, sinking through dark fur and flesh. Muscle fibers flexed 'gainst fangs, stirring impulses to bite deeper. Harder. His fangs sought her other arm--digging deeper into hardening muscle, evoking unintelligible whimpers and unnoted floundering. Harder still--so that the meat felt it might give to his canines.

Bite.

Harder.

Something reached through Tyson's fury and fire--reached into his shorts and closed firmly around him.

"I can't take it anymore--"

Heavy breaths.

"Get this thing in me," the black shepherd begged.

Tyson slowly raised his head, breathed heavily himself--his muzzle still clenched.

It was nothing like the sex shared with Elena. There was no air of intimacy. No tenderness. No love to make. Coarse, carnal, the incense of arousal driving him forward, driving his throbbing desire into the black shepherd. And as they fucked he contemplated the dark, thrashing form below him with uncompromising focus.

"Haaa--Yes, Ty!" sang the black shepherd, her entire being shaken by every slamming thrust.

Tyson said nothing. Pushing his length into his partner. Pulling back to his tip. Thought nothing.

And when the surge of his orgasm began to swell, he rammed his knot through the black shepherd's labia, let out a deep, rumbling growl and pumped his cum deep inside of her.

Their tied bodies expelled heavy breaths.

Beyond his primal state, Tyson could hear festive voices in the hotel hall and feet falling upon the floor of the room above. He could feel himself ejaculating, implanting his seed within the black shepherd.

Patricia lay limp, ravaged. "Good boy," she panted, and she weakly reached to stroke the whiskers and bristly furs of her son's muzzle. _"Very_good boy."

Unable to speak, his stomach and throat twisted by the onset of nausea, Tyson withdrew his cock from his mother and closed his eyes tightly.

"Done already?" she asked, and her muzzle birthed a wide grin.

* * *

7:18pm

"Oh, Ty!" giggled Patricia. "That's-- That's--"

The black shepherd doubled over, howling laughter.

Arms folded before an empty plate, Tyson observed his mother's fit and grunted embarrassedly, hoping to silence her, "Mom."

Omnipresent, omniscient eyes had turned upon them.

"Oh, Ty, I'm sorry," said Patricia, taking a drink from her water and continuing her fight for breath. "It's just . . . So that's why you've been looking so serious all evening."

Tyson gave a gruff shrug and felt a paw tapping good-humoredly at his leg.

"Ty, my tubes have been tied since I had Nessa," said Patricia, trying to keep a straight face around her smirk. "And," she continued, lowering her voice, "don't call me 'Mom' when you're talking about cumming inside of me."

Cursing, Tyson put a paw to his forehead.

"I figured you'd be used to sneaking around like this. I mean, you and that fox--"

"Yeah, yeah," grunted Tyson, glaring over the table at the wickedly smiling shepherd.

The dark eyes looking back shimmered in the restaurant's muted, yellow light.

She looked impressive, sexy--spots of cheetah-print running up her wrists, up her wiry arms, cutting to glossy black fur which shimmered in the restaurant's muted, yellow light. Shimmered as her dark eyes had whilst staring up at him hours before. Images of the black shepherd, quivering, crying, writhing, danced through Tyson's mind, and he realized then just how fiercely, how immediately he wanted her again.

* * *

Tuesday July 22, 2008

12:04am

Hours later, the two exhausted canines lay within their warmth and sex.

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow," sighed the black shepherd, her voice more pleased than pained whilst she lay curled herself 'gainst the side of her lover.

Blankly, the younger shepherd stared towards the ceiling.

The room was black again.

The gentle touch of the body against his, the aching in his loins, the loathing, loathsome voices in his head screaming disgust, screaming for _more._It all felt so distant.

Fuck it, he thought, closing his eyes to silence the unrest.