FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I'm Just Your Stud

By Dirt

Ahh, good mornin' world. I stir a little, getting wrapped up tighter in my sheets. Good night world. Mmf, I'm ready to go back to sleep, but the sun's been creeping in and cooking my room. Late risers like me benefit from a little AC in the house, but that don't exactly come standard in the communal apartments I'm staying in. Nah, all I got is my tiny ceiling fan and I don't leave it on at night cause it gets too cold then. Guess it wasn't meant to be.

An opossum like me can spend all day slumbering, but it ain't my day off and I've got people to do. I get outta bed and a not-so-warm shower wakes me up for the rest of the day. Slipping on a pair of tight jeans over my pink thong, I grab a white t-shirt and walk to the kitchen. Hot coffee to offset the cold water in my fur and I'm ready to go. Ding. What do you know? Just in time for me to finish my drink and work is ringing me. Now my day is really starting up and I'm feeling pretty good.

I pull out my phone and click on the notification for the Stud app sitting on top. While it loads, the screen flashes the Stud logo, a tacky looking mess where the S is 'spose to be a raised tail or something. We get it. I'm a sex worker, though, they ask all of us to refer to ourselves as Studs. That might sound cute to some of the higher ups, but I don't mind being called a hustler or an escort. I'm a professional at the end of the day and I'm good at my job.

I've got all my shots, so I don't have to worry about picking up anything other than fleas. Which, embarrassingly, I've gotten not once, not twice, but four times now. But that was back when I was just starting and jobs took me to shitty motels along the outstretches of town. Now that I've maintained a 4.95 average monthly rating, I'm one of the first guys you see when you turn on the app and I don't take any hook-ups in the seedy places no more. When you deal with me, you better be cleaned, groomed, and have a fresh set of sheets. Hold the fleas.

A flash and the screen lights up, throwing up a map along with a picture of a male tiger. Hey there, handsome. He looks to be in his early forties or is just taking damn good care of himself. Sharp dressed in a midnight blue pinstripe suit and a striking red tie, he's dressed to the nines and gots on a devilishly charming smile. I read the requested services and think it over for a second.

He ain't asking for too much, but he's in the middle of the city and it's a Friday. I'm gonna have to take the train which means once I'm out there, there ain't no coming back early unless I wanna waste the fair. Ahh, fuck it. City's better business anyways and I shouldn't be taking so many half days. Rent isn't much, but I still owe it and I don't wanna be dipping into my savings just because I'd rather be playing video games instead of earning cash.

I click accept and give him my time frame for showing up. It's well within the slot he's giving me and before I finish looping a rainbow set of earrings in, he's already agreed. Money in the bank. Getting down the high speed rail is a short walk from my building and I arrive at the terminal just in time to catch the 10:25 in. With a touch of my ID card to the turnstiles, the gate lets me in and I hurry to a spot towards the back of the train.

Like a cub, I'm getting all excited in my seat even though I've been taking this thing in weekly for the past two years straight. Oooo, here it comes. The elderly bear sitting next to me sees how giddy I'm getting and gives me a lil smile. She gets a wink of her own from me and I can tell she's got her own rush going. One warning from the front telling everyone that they better be in their seats before the damn thing takes off!

My fur is pressed to the back of my seat within six seconds of the train's acceleration. Another ten seconds and my whiskers are being pulled back to my muzzle and my ears and flattened against my head. Before we're even at thirty seconds, my guts feel like they're being rearranged and there's adrenaline coursing through my veins. At about the minute mark, we're zooming at three hundred miles per hour and still climbing.

I turn my head to see the other passengers and almost all of them are just kinda relaxing in their seats. Some of them managed to even hold onto their tablets the entire time. This is their daily commute and all of the life has been sucked from the experience. No fun, but I still get a kick outta it. Part of me wishes I wasn't the last terminal into the city just so I could feel the start and stop several times a ride. Oh well.

As I stroll out of the station, I flip open my app to see if I need to take a bus anywhere. Nope! Tiger's building is right in the financial district of the city and that's exactly where the train ends. Swept up out into the main road with a thousand other busy folks, I hafta break off to the side just to catch my bearings. Tall skyscrapers surrounding me block out the clear sunny day. Their plexiglass blues and greens make my eyes shine and the concrete and steel spirally upwards sets my expression awestruck. It's beautiful here.

But it's also just shy of $10,000 a month, and that ain't money I'm gonna have for a while. Also, my tiger's waiting for me and I ain't ever once been late for an appointment. Like I said, 4.95 average and part of that is punctuality. Actually, I'm sitting at 4.97 right now and so long as I keep it over 4.96, all the customer sees is a perfect five point O. With my backpack of goodies slung over my shoulder, I mozzie on down the street until I find the right building.

There's directions from the tiger in the app about what floor he's on and which hallway to walk down, but it's all pretty straight forward. As I stroll into the reception area, I'm greeted by a mare who's got a beautiful toothy equine smile that almost literally lights up the room. "Hello. Yes, I'm Mr. Yardley's 11:15." And the smile is gone. She doesn't even need to see the Stud logo on my backpack to know who I am.

"This way," she mutters without any of that same politeness I was given a second ago. Don't get mad at me, sweetheart. I'm just doing my job. By the way that she's sizing me up, I can sense a little bit of jealousy. She probably had my job up until HR got a whiff of what was going on in the back rooms. Ain't my fault policy's gotta problem with management fucking the receptionist, but turns a blind eye letting me walk up in here to handle some workday stress Heck, I'm probably on the company card.

At least she holds the door open for me as I step into his corner office. He's got one finger up for me and I can't tell if he's in the middle of a conference call or panic attack. Taking my time to get comfortable, I lock the door behind me and shudder the windows facing out to the rest of the office while he click-clacks away at the keyboard. 'Bout a minute of this and I'm getting a little antsy waiting on him. Maybe I should start stripping off some clothes all sexylike to encourage him to speed things the fuck up.

"Sorry about that," he apologizes and pulls away from the desk. "Shareholder meeting and I just really need something to take the edge off."

"No problem. Clothes on or clothes off?"

"On. Gotta wrap this up fast before my next meeting."

Clothes on it is. Mine, at least. I sit my bag down onto a little leather loveseat while he adjusts himself in chair. Guy's loaded, or at least his company is. The dark cherrywood desk and matching credenza behind him accents the plush red carpet neatly. I glance to the windows facing outside, but there's no curtains. Some people enjoy having an audience for people to appreciate my work, but like the clothes, he doesn't seem to give a rat's ass.

He's just waiting for me patiently as I walk around the desk and rest my rump on its edge. The tiger's wearing a suit just like the one in his profile picture, but no tie today. Instead, he's popped open the top button of his shirt and pulling off a few more to show me some chest fur. Not gonna lie, but I've got a preference for the big predators and he's kinda getting me going too. What can I say? Little opossums such as myself like a big man to take care of them every now and then. White fur drapes out and he touches a paw to sternum, stroking himself while he waits.

Oh right, I guess I got a job to do, don't I? There's no part in it for me to be enjoying myself, so I need to focus up and get going. He ain't making a move to his crotch, so I guess he's expecting me to work for it. That's ok. That's why I'm getting paid. Down on my knees, I grab hold of his pants button and shimmy it loose before unzipping his fly. Guy's got on some brass silk boxers, so he definitely either planned this from the start of his day or traded into them at some point. That, or maybe he just likes the feel, I guess?

They're gaudy as all hell, and honestly, just kinda in my way. Let's get a looksie. I reach up and wrap both paws into his waistband, careful not to pull any fur as I tug them all the way down. Aw, heck. He's a big guy. That's the problem with these apps. Customers get to know every single detail about me before they place their order, but I just get to go off services requested, a profile pic, and a map. It doesn't make sense if you ask me, but it's nothing I can't handle.

I'd rather not start my day off with a sore jaw, but I've trained for this and it's certainly not the biggest cock I've choked down. Paw wrapped around his shaft, I stroke up and down along his nine inches of barbs until I can get some pre going. Working his pre into his sensitive skin, I slicken him up before reaching forward and giving him a long kiss over his red tip. That earns me several new pearls that I lap up greedily.

He likes that!

Hopefully his doors are thicker than they look, 'cause he's purring like he's got a v8 hiding in his chest. Panting myself, I'm inhaling all of his scent and it's making my eyes see stars. I can barely hold myself back before I wrap my lips around his shaft and run my tongue in circles around his length. He puts a paw to the back of my head and helps guide me down his cock.

Careful with the claws there, tough guy! Don't wanna go damaging company property.

Alright, I shouldn't joke like that, but he's really digging those tips into my skull. Looking up, I clear my throat and he gets it instantly. Must be a regular problem cause he removes his paw altogether and settles it on the armrest. Before I keep going though, I notice him reach his other paw to his desk, slapping something down against the wood before relaxing himself. Oh ho ho, don't think I don't know what you're doing, buddy.

But that's beside my business, so I get to work. With my tongue expertly running down the veins of his shaft, I glide my muzzle up and down his length. His fat head just barely fits in my throat, flaring up to deposit more pre in my gullet. It throbs inside my muzzle, but I keep it clear from my teeth and my rhythm steady. My paws fondle his balls, playing with the heavy white orbs between my fingers.

He really wants to grab me and slam me down. I can hear his claws dragging curves into the plastic underneath. Good thing he won't have to, cause I go down myself, taking in all of his shaft until it hilts right into the back of my throat. My muzzle isn't quite long enough to hold in his entire dick, but I angle myself so he can continue to push deep into me. Moans and whimpers escape out into the office and there's no doubt in my mind everyone on the other side of that door knows what's going on.

"F-f-f-f-f-f-f-fuck," he mutters.

Without much warning, he slams a fist into his chair and I feel cum splash out straight into my gut. Holy crap, he really was pent up! I'm taken aback, forced to drink up as much as I can before it shoots out my nostrils. My lips wrap around him tightly, keeping everything inside as I drag his head back into my mouth. It continues to spurt cum against my tongue, but I gulp it down faster than it comes out. I suckle on his tip to drain his balls of every last drop.

Don't wanna ruin that pretty little suit you got on.

When he finally settles down, I open my maw wide so he can see his cock balancing neatly on my tongue. A few drops puddle up for him to see, but he's not quite paying attention. The tiger's eyes are half open, staring off into space before he slowly comes to when I lap up what he's left for me. Licking him clean, I help his shaft back into his boxers and pull them up for him. Didn't miss a single drop.

"Wow, you're really good," he mutters as I get to my feet.

I know. Okay, I'm more modest than that. I thank him for the compliment and wish him best of luck with his meetings for the day. Still bathing in his afterglow, he mostly just waves me out and makes some mention of a tip. Not a bad way to kick off my day, and my jaw isn't feeling a quarter bad as I thought it might feel. As I leave his office though, I notice the picture frame knocked over on his desk.

Right.

Walking out of the office, I pull my phone out and say some nice things to the receptionist on my way out. She wishes me a bright rest of my day, so I guess no hard feelings. Well, for her. I bring up my Stud app and when it loads, there's five empty stars ready for me to fill out. I give him three and click the send button. Now, you might be asking what went wrong, but nothing went wrong.

I don't work with cheaters. No, not cheetahs. I'm no speciesist. Adulterers. It's not that I have any problems with what anyone wants to do in their free time-- Well, that's not true. It's a little scummy and I'm not a big fan of it, but not only that: It's also bad for business. There was one time I was pounding away at this wolf and his rabbit boyfriend comes barging in the room. Starts screaming and swinging at me and I have to practically race out into the yard to escape him. Never again.

Out of curiosity I check his score, and, lo and behold, he's still sitting at the 4.9 I walked in with. He must be ordering Studs quite a bit for my rating not to shift his average even a tenth of a point. That's alright though, cause the three stars just guarantees that I'll never show up in his app again. Some other boy can do their dealings with him, and that ain't any of my business.

Stepping out into the street again, I remember exactly where in the FiDi I am and get excited. There's a killer froyo spot just a couple alleys up, and I haven't had them in a full week. Strawberry banana with granola and almonds is already making my mouth water until--Ding. My shoulders drop and I look at my phone. Of course! High dollar client making a request for services rendered ASAP and he's deep into the city. If I wanna make it, I gotta hop onto the nearest bus. Sorry tummy. Guess it wasn't meant to be.

I accept the request and spin around in a circle to orient myself, before remembering a bus stop near me. The driver opens the door just in time for me to arrive. Taxes on those $10,000 condos I mentioned early pay my fair, so all I give the german shepard behind the wheel is a smile. Ooo la la! He catches the rainbow set of earrings I got on and gives me this lusty smile. Sorry fella, but I'm on the clock. You'll have to buy me that drink some other time.

I pick a spot where I can look out the window, my muzzle almost pressed to the glass. The bus prepares its slow climb to the heights, and I fixate on the buildings passing by. Skyscrapers break for complexes as we move through the inner city. Those apartments might be a little more within my budget, but they're soulless and a little run down. I was lucky enough to get the little commune I'm in, though, I think they accepted my application mostly for my prior work experience.

Right, I should probably mention that. Back in the sticks, before I was getting ordered around by an algorithm, I used to be a kindergarten teacher. Whodathunk? Actually, second thought, fuck you, pal! I was damn good at my job, and the cubs loved me! I'm great with the kids and if the damn district didn't mix up my paperwork when I moved out here, I would be doing that instead. The only reason why I got into this job was that I needed some quick cash and didn't have a car to go driving chumps around all day.

Signed up with Stud, found some undiscovered talents, and the rest is history. I guess I could go back to the classroom. Could've reapplied at any point these past two years, but waking up at 5am wasn't really my thing to begin with. I kinda miss the tykes sometimes though, and you should see me in my blue checkered shirt and bow tie. Add the glasses, remove the earrings, and I go from sexy male order hustler to dorky ass opossum getting mauled by a dozen noisy brats.

Can't think about that now. I jump out about a block away from the clients house. This neighborhood is cushy as all hell. White tightly packed two story homes stand over the rest of the city like they're looking down their noses at it. I suspect these are a lot of old money families passing these houses down throughout their lineage. Most of the tech, researcher, and investor folks stick to places more lively than these quiet parts.

He answers almost as soon as I knock and my jaw just about drops off. He's so much more gorgeous than his profile pic gives him credit for. This snow white arctic fox is standing in the doorway with nothing but a bathrobe on. Groomed and scented pleasantly, he stands the exact same 5'4 as me with a gentle but nervous smile. Fingers tangled up, he greets me and invites me inside bashfully, taking a quick peek outside as if to make sure the neighbors didn't see.

Hun, you have no right using an app like this. Go out and get it for free at the clubs like everyone else. I wanna tell him that, but then I'd be out a job and this one is easy money. Also, I get it. Short guys like us get nervous sometimes when we're surrounded by big bustling bulls and hungry eyed wolves on the prowl. This is easy and he's got the money to pay for it, so why not get exactly what you want without any of the guesswork of hook-ups. Besides, this one really knows what he's looking for.

"Clothes on or clothes off?"

"Would you mind taking yours off, please?"

Puh-lease? Look at that! You got it, champ. I pull my shirt over my head as he leads me down the hall to his bedroom. There's a bench on the end of the bed for me to sit my clothes and backpack on while he sprawls himself out on the bed. Instead of pulling off his bathrobe, he opens it up and shows me his beautiful cloudlike body over the satin red sheets. His head goes back, the pink tip of his cock poking out of his white furred sheath. Hey, don't get too comfortable, cutie. You got some decisions to make.

He ain't so much interested in my package, not that I have a whole lot to offer him. I'm not even hard yet when I fold my shorts and thong onto the bench I'm kneeling on. Even if I was fully erect, I don't come up much larger than four inches and this boy needs something big in him. Don't worry your cute little head. I brought back up. Reaching into my backpack, I pull out my not-so-tiny team of helpers one by one.

In my right paw, there's Timmy the Tiger. In my left paw is Willy the Wolf and Hayden the Horse. Last but not least, I'm holding up Fanny the Fantastical Dragon in my tail for the vulpine to see. They're five, six, eight, and ten inches long respectively and get substantially wider the bigger they get. He seems hesitant to make a choice, glossing over them back and forth, but I see the one that he keeps side glancing to. Gotcha covered, kid.

Tossing three of the dildos in my paws into the backpack, I reach one paw across the bed and grab hold of his ankle. Come're lil' fella. He slides effortlessly across his satin sheets, squirming slightly and yipping as I bring him all the way to the bed's edge. Aw, don't be so scared. I ain't gonna hurt'cha. That'd cost ya extra. Behind me is the dildo bobbing in the air, waving around tauntingly while I bring lube out and squirt it all over my fingers.

With one paw, I grab hold of his emerging shaft, stroking his pink tip and coaxing more out of his sheath. He closes his eyes and murmurs softly as I reach down and finger at his sensitive opening. Whimpers fill the room as his chest lifts and falls in excited anticipation of what's coming next. One finger; no problem. Two, three fingers; still pretty good. Four, five; No biggie? Jeez, the stretching exercises on some of these foxes. Alright, buddy. Let's do this.

My tail brings Fanny over to me like an assistant handing tools to a mechanic. Thank you, nurse. It's heavy in my paws, but definitely not going to be a problem for my little friend here. Rubbing my paws up and down the length, I get it nice and lubed before lining the pointed reptilian head against his tailhole. That gets a teeny tiny gasp from him and stretches into a long deep moan by the time it's halfway in.

His tongue's dangling out the side of his muzzle and his eyes are rolled up into the back of his head. The satin sheets are no match for his sharp claws shredding into them. Psh, rich kids. Give my right nut to be sleeping on a bed this soft with sheets like that. I push another three inches into him quick, getting a high pitched squeal from him. A little too fast, but he'll survive. With the dildo mostly in him, I can just focus on getting him off.

Both my paws work in tandem, one keeping a steady rhythm stroking him up and down while the other pumps the toy in and out of him. My tail joins in, wrapping around his ankle to keep him close as I stuff the fox. I loom over him, reading his pants and whines like a second language only I can understand. Just a little faster with the strokes, add some knot squeezes in there, let the toy drag in him a little bit slower, tickle his soles with the tip of my tail and suddenly, BLAM!

His knot snot slaps up against the bottom of my chin with an audible splat. Whoops, guess I should be careful where I aim this thing. Angling him upwards, I let this fox frost himself in icing while I continue to ride out his orgasm. From the expression of shock on his muzzle, even he's a little surprised I got him to blast so fast. He doesn't try questioning it as he leans back into his bed and lets the afterglow set in.

"Woah, you're good," he lets out like a sigh.

Look at that. I've started a trend. I accept the compliment and give him one of my own remarking the jizz he's left slabbed on my muzzle. He chuckles and apologizes, but before I can begin to get him and I cleaned up, he's got something else to ask me. I can see it on his face before he even opens his mouth and part of me gets ready to kill his mood. "Would it be alright if I asked you to lick up the cum on my body, please?"

There it is. Well, the simple answer: No. How many times have you ordered a hammer in a hardware store and just expected a wrench to come free? I got my rates and you can order them whenever you'd like. Complicated answer: It doesn't cost me nothin' to just lean in and lick it up. If I know that I can squeeze out that thirty bucks just to suck up some cum, I'm gonna do it. But this fox has been cute and he did say please, which I probably only hear once a week or so at most.

Fine. You're lucky I like you. Leaning over him, I reach down and begin lapping up the pools of cum in his fur. He's a little salty, but otherwise pleasant tasting. The best part is the feel of the soft fur touching against my nose and the closeness of his body while I'm crawling over him. Something about this feels right, natural, and a little secure. By the time I'm cleaning up the last drops from his chest, he's staring down at me with those beautiful crystal eyes. I smile back, feeling a little hot at the cheeks.

The magic hangs only for a second until I make out the lusty smile curving up his lips and the arched eyebrow. Oh, hello again. His stiffness is rubbing against my belly and before I can even get back into position, he's diving for his phone on the nightstand. I chuckle as I pull my pants off the bench and give him five stars so he can order me one more time. See! It pays to throw a little something something on the side.

By the time I finish, he's covered in two hefty loads of his own spunk and completely worn out. Thankfully, I managed to keep most of his jizz off me, but I've gotta freshen up in his bathroom for a second. Usually, I try really hard to keep myself clean. Something about asking to use a stranger's shower feels awkward, like if your rideshare driver asks to use your restroom. When I come out, he's struggling to keep awake as he offers to share tea with him.

"Thanks, but no thanks. You just get yourself some sleep," I tell him as I'm packing my bag.

Before I leave the room, he's out like a light. Cute fella. Maybe I'm a little worn out myself, but I'm slow walking out the room just listening to him snore gently. Ain't no part in it for me to be enjoying myself, so I close the door softly and walk out onto the street. I finish giving him another five stars and pull down the 'more options' tab to add him to my preferred list. The next time he turns on his app, I'll be the first Stud he'll see. Heck, next time I might stay for that tea.

It's not even a full minute from giving him his rating that I hear that familiar Ding. Busy day today, I guess. When I check the app, my tummy gives me a little grumble in protest and I have to swipe on the dude. Sorry guy, but I need to eat something and I'm definitely not gonna do that on an empty stomach. I tell the app that I'm gonna be taking a break for the next hour, allowing me to schedule out my day without taking any immediate requests.

Appointments come in pretty fast and I'm booked full just as I lick up the mayo from my club sandwich off my whiskers. Today is going to be a good day! Right off the bat, I'm down on the northside spanking a hippo's ass red with a riding crop. Next up is a wolf out along the beach on the other end of the city. When I arrive he's got a ridiculous pizza uniform and an empty cardboard box for me. I put it on, go back outside, ring the doorbell, and he asks me if there's any other way he can pay for his pizza.

Oh don't laugh at him! Everyone's got their thing and he ain't hurtin' no one. Heck, there was this one time where some skunk had me put on a costume of a certain purple dinosaur. Even asked me to sing the song while he-- Actually! You know, I probably shouldn't be telling people that story as often as I do. All I'm sayin' is that pizza boy delivery fantasy isn't as weird as things can get.

I finish my day with some watersports stuff and a very very thirsty alligator. Don't worry 'bout him. His thirst is thoroughly quenched and I'm thoroughly pooped. You're probably wondering in your head, "what wouldn't this guy do?" and the answer is: you don't want to know. Anyone that I've ever told the honest truth to hasn't been able to look at me the same way since. Just know, I've done things, some of which I discovered to enjoy myself, and others I don't mind doing. 'Specially if you've got the dough for it.

Back on the rail, I'm about ready to turn it in when I hear the familiar Ding of my phone and cock my head. Whoever is knocking is about to be sorely disappointed unless they're packing some rocket boots to come chase me down. To my surprise though, they must be doing just that cause the map is showing them following me at 300 mph. I look at his picture and then turn around in my seat, looking for a second until I spot the big rhino in the back.

How the heck? Oh, right. He saw my backpack.

Alright, buddy. What's the services? Just a Handy J? Okay, that isn't such a big deal, but we're out in public and I can read this guy up and down like he came with an instruction manual. I accept his request, but don't immediately get out of my seat. We've got about thirty more minutes on this ride and I send him a message in the app to meet me in the bathroom in about five. Once I send it, I turn back to him to catch his reaction.

Ding. Oh yeah, it sounds the same on both ends and I can see by the way he's reading it, he's not so happy. What? I'm sitting on five point O, as far as you can tell, so you gotta trust me. He looks up, notices me and rolls his eyes before tucking in. Listen to me buddy, I can jerk you off in the back, but I can tell that you aren't gonna be quiet about it. When I want you to sing, you'll hit every note all the way up.

After about two minutes, he gets out of his seat and walks towards the back. So much for patience. I give it a minute before getting up and following him towards the closet sized bathroom. Without even checking the lock, I slide the door open and slip in as discreetly as possible. When I'm inside, he's on the toilet, pants and briefs down to the floor stroking himself for me.

That makes my job easy. No need to waste lube on this guy. I spit right into my paws and slick them up nice and good before getting to work. It's cramped in here, but I manage to find enough space to kneel at his side. It's kinda hard to grab hold of him cause, well, there ain't a whole lot to get a hold of. He's smaller than me and-- Well, I guess I don't have a whole lot of room to talk, do I? At least he's thick, so I can work with that.

As soon as I touch the tough rugged skin, I can tell exactly how he likes it. My grip is iron around his shaft and my strokes are long and slow. His foreskin folds over his head and pulls back down with each pump of his cock. He's leaning back and, just like I predicted, he's moaning like we weren't in a bathroom on a train. Something mutters out his mouth, and I almost miss it, but I think I hear him correctly. Sure thing buddy. I guess I'm feeling generous today.

"Mfff, you've got such a big dick. Bigger than any rhino I've ever seen," I lie to him.

It's exactly what he wants to hear. Moans bounce against the steel frame bathroom walls, echoing loudly and rattling my brain between my ears. He's got a hoof underneath his shirt pinching his nipples tightly and twisting them. The air is mostly his breath and pheromones mixing into an inescapable cloud of rhino musk. As I feel him reach past the point of no return, he throws his head back and moans out, 'That's a good Fa--"

Woah, jackass! This was just a handjob and I don't remember signing up for getting called that at any point. Degradation costs $30 and even then, there's a list of words that are not okay to call me even if I do agree to it. That one is right at the freakin' top. All I've gotta do is keep cool for the next five seconds for him to finish dripping cum into my paw. His eyes are closed, which is good, cause I can't really hide how pissed off I am.

When he's finished, I just wash my paws clean in the sink and walk out without a single word exchanged. Don't give a shit if he wanted more or not, cause I'm already giving him a one star in my app and a bill for the degradation added on top of what he owes. Stud might be an evil soulless tech app, but nine times out of ten, they'll side with me in any disputes. His rating drops from a 3.9 down to a 3.6. He better bring flowers to the next Stud he sees. If he gets anything less than a 4, he'll drop below 3.5 and the app will ban him.

Enjoy jerking yourself off, prick.

I'm walking back to my seat and there's sets of eyes on me. Fucker was loud enough that I'm sure the conductor at the front is snickering to himself. Yeah yeah, I get it: You all know. Oh no, I've been caught. Call a cop. I'm sure they'd love to hear all about how someone got jerked in public. Newsflash, buddy: I've whacked off at least a couple dozen dudes on this train and splashed their spunk all over the seats. That's right. You're sitting in the crusty remains of the work of yours truly.

Okay, maybe I just need to settle down. I get back to my spot and shoot a text to my group telling them I got a story about a two inch rhino they're gonna love to hear. Oh! What's that? You thought this was just between you and me? Ha! Not even. There ain't nothing in the rules that says I've gotta keep my mouth shut. Better yet, me and all the gals are yacking it up at the Habaneros Bar and Grill over margaritas and shots.

Me and about ten other Studs meetup every Wednesday night to talk about our week and our clients. When you get rid of all the negative stigmas and secrecy around sex, it actually ends up being pretty funny. Heads get bonked, tails get tangled, and the occasional dick gets bent. Alright, I've never bent anyone's dick, but as perfect as I am, mistakes happen sometimes.

My favorite story to tell is about me and this goat really going at it in his bedroom. He's got a dozen lit candles on the headboard though, thinking maybe it's romantic or something. Either way, his horns get lodged into the headboard, two candles come down right on my back, I'm screaming bloody murder coated in hot wax, while he's struggling to pull himself off the bed! We almost burn down the whole place!

Alright, that tale gets taller every day. One story I tell that isn't exaggerated is the time someone 'bought' me as a gift for their friend's eighteenth. Totally against the rules, but I can't see the harm in it. Rat kid wants to go down on me and I'm thinking who's the one getting the birthday gift. Not me! Swear he's got a cheese grater in his muzzle and I gotta beg him to stop. I give him head in exchange that he doesn't put those razor blades anywhere near another man's junk until he's practiced with a banana everyday straight for a month.

Good times.

I'm walking down the hall to my building excited to play some games when I heard the familiar Ding from my phone. Darnit, I thought I turned it off. The app will give me shit if I reject too many people on the same day and there's absolutely no way I'm going back out there tonight. Thankfully, when I open up the app, it's a familiar face staring back at me. Ohoho, has it really been two weeks already?

I accept it and then click the "last call" button so that it knows to log me out after my services are rendered. Instead of opening my apartment, I walk back down the stairs to the first floor and stop three doors in. A quick check to make sure I'm still looking my A game, and I rap lightly against wood. There's some shuffling on the other side and I can tell he's cleaning up as hastily as possible before the door swings open.

"Hey, Timmy," I say gently, my smile larger than it's been all day.

"H-hi," the otter mumbles back, unable to look me in the eye.

He steps out of the door frame and lets me through, his muzzle to the ground the entire time. He's heavyset, probably weighs two or three of me, and it's kinda hard to get around him with all his junk lying around. Don't think I don't know where your UBI goes to, kid. Action figurines, cardboard movie cutouts, superhero costumes, and fantasy movie replicas litter every square inch of his apartment.

Our little secret, but I'm just as big of a nerd as he is and I recognize most the shit he's got lying around. I'd like to talk with him more about the cardboard cutout of Doug Riot, but he's kind of a recluse. He probably leaves the apartment maybe once a week for grocery shopping and otherwise stays in his room gaming all day. Not even sure why he's in these communal apartments. Most people here are some form of education, skilled labor, or technician and I don't even think he's got a job. Maybe they took him in after he got kicked out for being gay or being a hermit. I shake my head. That's none of my business and my only concern is giving him the services he's requested.

"Would you want to just jerk off in front of each other?" he asks softly, still unable to look at me.

Well, three things. First, I didn't order me; you ordered me, so what I want doesn't really fall into the equation right now. Second though, no it would not be alright. There's nothing in the app for "mutual jackoff session" in the list of services I provide and you ordered a handjob. And third, I'm not gonna say any of this because we've already had this conversation at least a hundred times and I'm too tired to go at it again.

"Sure thing, buddy. Lemme help you out of those," I whisper, leading him into his own room and sitting atop his bed.

He takes a seat next to me and holds out his arm, accepting the offer without a word. There's a thrill that he gets when my fingers hook underneath his shirt and pull it up over his head. The tips of my claws drag through his sides, pressing through his rough fur so I can feel his soft body. A sharp inhale tells me I'm doing all the right things, but I knew that cause I feel his pleasure at my tips. I know he's enjoying this because I'm enjoying it a little bit myself.

When the shirt comes off over his head, he's looking at me now, staring with his maw agape. He leans in part way and I fill the rest of the gap, kissing him right on the lips. I'm rubbing his belly with one paw while the other fights to take off my own shirt while holding the kiss. We have to part only for a second as I rip the rest of my clothes off and he follows suit. I'm hard and so is he, already stroking himself while taking in my naked body.

"You're the m-most beautiful person I-I've ever seen," he chokes out.

You know, I'm one of the most top rated Studs that you can get, and still, he's the only one that ever tells me that. It's not that I need the compliment or nothin', cause I know to some extent that I'm good lookin'. But he didn't say good lookin', or attractive, or sexy, or hot, or fuckable, or whatever. He said beautiful, and right at this moment, I kinda feel like it. Crawling up onto the bed, I get comfortable on my knees and he does the same right across from me.

Oops, looks like he might've extended himself too far with that comment. He's not able to look at me anymore, abashed from being too bold. Nu uh, guy. You paid for me, so you're going to watch the show now. Reaching over cautiously, I touch his chin and guide it slowly back to me, while I begin to touch myself in front of him. I'm all the way out of my sheath, but instead of strokes, I'm just dragging a finger along my shaft so he can get a clear view.

Now, I've got big rules about finishing with a client. Mainly, I don't. I only like to cum when I'm in my room enjoying it by myself. If I peak halfway through my day, then I'm just gonna turn off the app and head home to lounge about on my couch. But, it is at the end of my day and technically, I'm in the same building so that kinda counts, right? Either way, I know I want to do this with him and so I start jerking it.

My paw shifts to his shoulder, leaning up against his weight while beating myself off. He's huddling into me as well, watching my strokes and pacing himself to my rhythm. I've been kinda pent up all day and feels good to just let loose. Our panting becomes one and our breath mixes into an aromatic cocktail. Biting my lip and digging my claws into his thick pelt, I feel my orgasm rushing forth quickly. Hope you can catch up kid!

A muffled cry squeaks out my muzzle before the first wave of my cum shoots hard enough to coat a line on the otter big brown belly. I throw my head back and moan, closing my eyes tightly as I climax without care of the mess I'm making. Probably should have laid down some towels, but I don't give a shit. If I can make my clients feel half as good as I'm feeling right now, It's no fucking wonder why people pay me to do this.

Coming down, I lower my muzzle until I can look down at the damages. To my surprise, most of my cum is on the otter and my paws, but that's not the only thing. My orgasm must've been pretty intense, because I didn't even realize that the otter had glazed me similarly. It's all over my chest, my stomach, and, what's this, a little bit on my whiskers. Jeez kid, you got a scope on that rifle?

We see the mess made on ourselves and laugh at the same time before collapsing onto our backs to enjoy our afterglow. There's barely enough room on this bed for the two of us, but I just need some time to catch my breath. Without even thinking about it though, I position myself so we're touching side to side. At this moment, it's the most comfortable bed I've rested on in my entire life.

"We're gonna need to shower," I tell him before he passes out.

I worry he's fallen asleep, but he answers hesitantly, "You can use it first."

"Nah, let's get in together. I know we can fit."

We do and we take our time lathering each other up while remaining silent. There's something on his mind and I know what it is, but he's gotta ask me so I can tell him no. Tonight was a night, I had a lot of fun, but it's time for me to go home and get back to my computer. Those videos of grandmas tripping into pools won't play themselves, will they? I've got a social media account to scroll through! Who knows what crazy things my aunt Dawn has said today.

I'm out drying my fur in his bedroom when he finally asks, "Can we cuddle on the bed?"

Nu uh, buddy. Don't go fallin' in love with me, mista. I'm just your Stud. You ordered me, pal, and as far as I'm concerned, our business is concluded. There ain't no service called "Cuddle and fall asleep together - twenty bucks" anywhere in the app. Doesn't matter anyways because the app is off and nobody can order me again until I turn the damn thing back on. That's that and there ain't no way--

"Yeah, buddy. Let's do that."

Ohhh, why you doing this to me, heart? There ain't no place in this for me to enjoy myself, but I wanna anyways. We crawl up back into the bed, getting underneath the soiled sheets. Tomorrow, we'll get them down to the laundry first thing in the morning. I don't really mind his smell and his scents already thick on me anyways when he wraps his arms around me.

He doesn't last much longer than a couple minutes before he's snoring in my ear. It's not loud, but just a comforting reminder that he's there. I slip out from underneath him, thinking that I can just get dressed and go back to my room. It's not like I haven't done this before, so he can handle it. I don't though, and instead just pull out my phone from my pants and tuck back in with him.

Flipping open my app, I can see that I've made over six hundred dollars today. That's pretty damn good. Good enough to pay rent but maybe good enough to take tomorrow off. Maybe I can convince him to go out for coffee or some breakfast. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to get back into the classroom and see the cubs again. Maybe, but right now I'm feeling kinda tired. Anyways, we'll see what happens. In the meantime, thanks for sticking around. Ahhhh, good night world.