FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Parking his car was the easy part, opening the door and stepping out into the world, that was always a bit harder.

The single story office building wasn't a spectacle, per se, but one could still appreciate its simplicity. The entire front wall was window glass, the whole roof being slanted, bearing flat, onyx tiles. As he got out and braced the cool air, he wondered how nice it would be if the inside was as uninteresting. Straightening his steel-grey tie, the ferret made his way across the parking lot and through the front doors.

"Hey," a deer said gently as Pierre came in. Aliyah's desk was right there when someone walked in, though she normally didn't greet everyone.

He glanced at her before waving hello, promptly returning his gaze to the floor. She, however, kept her eye on him until he'd walked all the way past.

The office was wide, the main working space being a single, large room. It was quaint; a typical, darkly mottled carpet, white plaster walls decorated by various drawings and paintings of the employees' own creation, and as Connor always pointed out, a nice, smooth ceiling. No ugly popcorn. Now that was professional.

The far left wall had one cubicle, while the space in the middle was occupied by three desks. Pierre plopped down in the one behind Aliyah.

She swiveled in her black, plastic chair, resting her elbows on his desk top.

"Do you drink coffee?" she asked.

He perked up at the sudden question.

"I love when your ears do that. They like, fold back flat against your head anytime someone talks to you. Sometimes I'll ask you a question just to see them go: boop." She imitated the motion with her furred hand.

He blinked, stiff of body.

She tilted her head. "Has anyone ever asked you on-"

"Hey! Uh, Aliyah." A tall hyena leaned over. She immediately looked forward, pointedly not at him, her smile going flat.

"I need the sales posse to group up by my office with everyone else real quick," he said, looking at the desk behind Pierre as well. Seeing that they had all heard him, he tapped the surface in front of Pierre and walked off.

"Awesome," Aliyah deadpanned, standing up just as Pierre did. As he gathered his things, he felt clawtips on his shoulder.

He spun around.

"Oh. I didn't mean to startle you. I forgot to greet you properly this morning when you came in. I was... occupied," Sam, a doberman with black and hazel fur, spoke, her voice impressively monotone. "So, good morning," she added.

He nodded.

Aliyah furrowed her eyebrows in concern that Pierre had accepted such an interaction so impassively. But at the same time, it was pretty goddamned cute.

The 'sales posse' made their way to Connor's office where two others, including Connor himself, had gathered.

"There they are," Connor noted. He stood to address everyone. "Alright, so I think collaboration is the keystone of success in modern business. But, what is collaboration without strong cohesion in the team?" He palmed a fist before shrugging. "The answer is nothing. You have to know each other, understand each other. Today is more than just a workday. It's a celebration of collaboration!" he exclaimed, his arms raised, slightly out of breath.

They stared on.

He clapped his hands, and cast his gaze downward. "Okay," he muttered.

"So uh, what we're gonna do is pair up. And then you're gonna guess the other pair's favorite kinds of donut."

Quizzical 'oh's and 'hmm's filled the air. Connor brightened some.

"I hope you've already been working on cohesion with your peers because whatever you pick will be ordered by the dozen per person."

Some pleasantly surprised murmurs.

"Whoever is most successful in this little venture gets Friday off, as well as some donuts on top. Sounds pretty groovy to me! I'll let you figure things out amongst yourselves," he finished, watching Pierre stand idly as the rest began discussing and negotiating. He huffed before retiring to his office.

"You look like the one guy at a party who doesn't know anybody," Pierre heard. He relaxed a little.

Valkynn had a distinct tone. It could be playful or teasing, but it was always soft and considerate underneath. The bird had been standing next to him while Connor had briefed them all. Her fluffy feathers were pure white, and contrasted nicely with her dark, black eyes.

"Be my partner?" She asked.

He nodded.

Aliyah snapped her head, hearing, and then seeing the two pair up. "Fuck," she cursed under her breath.

She looked to the right, then to the left, then down, processing. It was a lose-lose situation. Maybe the day would go by faster if she just went with it.

With one pair already made amongst the four junior employees, only one more possibility was left.

"This is out of circumstance, not choice," Sam clarified. Aliyah would have been her last selection out of the office. She had absolutely no understanding of professionalism or good manners. She was a stunning sight, sure, but what did that matter anyway?

"Of course, Sam," Aliyah said.

"And what was that?" Sam asked, her arms crossed.

Aliyah shrugged.

"No no, that little tone you had. Don't think I didn't hear it," Sam went on.

Aliyah didn't reply.

Sam's glare was somehow disapproving and indifferent at the same time. She turned away and began to note the other two. The avian had managed to snag Pierre; the dog had lost her little ferret prize. For now.

"I got no idea what Pierre would like. Never even seen him eat here," Aliyah commented.

Sam glanced at him. Aliyah had a point. Pierre was impossible to get the drop on. He hardly did anything that gave him away.

He was by far her favorite coworker. Despite being young and having little experience prior to his job, he brought in the most sales year after year, but he did not boast of it. In fact, he barely spoke at all, and at times seemed... timid. Such a strict and minimalist profile was very professional.

"What do you know about her?" Sam probed.

Aliyah scratched at her ears. "Well, she eats a mini chocolate donut, like, every morning." She chuckled. "And she always puts her 'sprinkle dust' on them."

She looked to Pierre. "Your guess is as good as mine on him, though," she admitted.

That was fine with Sam. One down, one to go. By the end of the day, she would know both of their secrets, and Friday would be hers. Pierre especially, with his shy, reactive demeanor. Practically asking to be hunted and caught.

After a while, the cluster dispersed, everyone getting back to work, even though the challenge burned in the back of their minds.

Just like any other day, fingers clacked keyboards, chairs shifted and creaked, the occasional telephone rang.

Connor cracked his door open and peeked out. Nothing too eventful. Yet. He closed it.

Lunchtime rolled around eventually. Everyone left to the mess area on their own time. It was a long room in the backmost part of the office, adjacent to the manager's office. Usually people chattered while they enjoyed their break, making something to eat on the counter in the back, or just relaxing on their phones, but that day was not usual.

The pairs kept hushed to their own tables. Sam scoured them with her analytical gaze. Valkynn ate silently, Pierre just sat there.

Aliyah was staring at Pierre, her palm on her cheek. Out of all the crazies in the office, he was simple, normal. He looked like he was pondering something, his demeanor soft but focused. His black and white striped fur was perfectly conducive to how he behaved. Even his simple white dress shirt and grey pants; they said very little, sure, but perhaps that was the point, to be perfectly neutral. His little whiskers too, those were good too.

"Pierre," two voices simultaneously called.

Aliyah and Sam locked eyes.

He turned his head, his eyes going slightly wider, fluffy ears folding back.

"What did you want with him?" Aliyah asked.

"That's between me and him," Sam replied.

Had her and Aliyah been thinking the same thing?

"Pierre, what would you do if you had Friday off?" Aliyah started.

"I would also like to know that," Sam jumped in.

He straightened in his chair. Valkynn smiled amusedly. "I don't know Pierre, seems like some pretty dangerous information to be giving out."

"He can decide that for himself," Sam said.

"I was just genuinely curious," Aliyah said, shrugging. Of course she knew there was more than Pierre let on.

Some people still had animalistic tendencies, far more than others, tendencies that often translated well into sports, military, construction, as well as some more private activities. It wasn't always an obvious trait.

Silence pervaded, and he sat frozen.

"You think they might be a bit fixated on you?" Valkynn piped up. She leaned back in her chair, taloned hands behind her head.

"Okay," Aliyah started, "Like you're not curious either."

Sam shook her head. "What would you do on a free day?" Sam said, gesturing toward Aliyah.

She pursed her lips. "I have a date," she said nonchalantly. "Friday would be a good day to plan for it, get everything ready and such."

Sam tilted her head, "What? You've never said anything about this before. Who is this supposed date?"

Aliyah said nothing but glanced at Pierre.

Sam's expression darkened. That pretty-little-princess deer was going to try to get Pierre? And to be so brash and open about it...

"Hmm, that does seem like a good way to spend the day," Sam began. "I might actually do the same," she said.

Aliyah furrowed her eyebrows, her question obvious. Who?

Sam glanced at Pierre.

Aliyah recoiled. She wouldn't dare. Not in a million years. But Sam's face told her otherwise, that she very much would.

"Guys," Valkynn said. "I think we gotta get back to work." Everyone collectively checked their watches, stood up and began to file out of the room.

As everyone settled back into their working space, the challenge was more than a small distraction, it was just about all they could think about. They stared at their computer screens, but they weren't really looking.

Every now and then, Aliyah and Sam would shoot one another a fiery glare.

Pierre closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, opened his eyes, stood up, and made his way to the restroom. It was tucked in the far right corner of the office, with a unisex symbol hanging on the door.

Aliyah turned and saw him go. She stood as well.

Crossing the office, she caught the door just before it closed, Pierre already having gone inside. She looked to see if anyone was paying attention. Satisfied that none were, she slipped inside. Sam's pointed ears perked and swiveled.

It was a two stall, two sink bathroom, more than enough room for one person.

Pierre was leaning over the sink, staring into the mirror, frowning, his eyes lidded. Aliyah came in, and the two made short, but impactful eye contact. Even if it was meant for multiple occupants, usually people tried to wait if there was already someone in the bathroom; an unspoken rule, but a rule nonetheless.

He lowered his head.

"Hey," she finally spoke.

He faced her. She sighed internally. This was literally the least classy place possible, but it was away from prying eyes and ears, and would have to do.

"Listen, do you remember this morning? When I was about to ask you something but Connor talked right over me?"

Pierre nodded hesitantly.

"I know we don't talk much, but that's kinda what I wanted to make up for. Does coffee after work sound good?" she asked.

Pierre was stock still. He met her gaze, and his mouth parted. The anticipation of his answer racked her with both thrill and fright.

The door opened again. They both twisted around to see Sam standing with her hands on her hips, the door closing behind her.

"What the hell is this?" She demanded.

Aliyah stepped toward her. "Oh come on Sam, I was just about to..." she sighed and shook her head.

All three of their figures reflected in the mirror on the wall.

"About to what?" Sam pressed.

Pierre shifted slowly, beginning to edge toward the exit, hugging the wall.

"There's no point talking about it. You already know what we both want," Aliyah said.

He'd made it a quarter of the way past them.

"Pierre, you don't have to stay here, don't let anyone make you feel obligated for any reason," she said.

He walked out as simply as that. She could smell the nervousness on him, the reluctance. It gave her tingles of adrenaline.

The squeak of the hinges, the dark green and red mini tiles of the floor, the stark light above, it gripped the tension and pulled it tighter.

"This is stupid," Aliyah said.

"No it's not. This is worth fighting for." Sam replied.

"Why would he pick you, you're like all scary and cold!" the deer pointed out.

"He's perceptive, the quiet ones always are. He can see what obviously can't." Sam rebuted.

"It's like talking to someone in a dream, Jesus Christ. Doesn't make any goddamned sense," as Aliyah spoke she brushed past Sam, leaving the room.

Sam was right on her tail, however. Literally.

"Ow!" Aliyah grabbed her own behind as she reentered the office space, hopping up and down.

Sam walked out cooly after her.

"What the hell was..." Aliyah trailed off, her eyes taking her focus elsewhere.

Sam stared too.

Valkynn was sitting on Pierre's desk. They couldn't hear a word. Pierre's lips were moving.

They both stormed over to him. Pierre, sitting at his chair, looked up to see the closed fists and tightly drawn faces of both Sam and Aliyah.

"Hey, you two," Valkynn greeted.

"What were y'all just talking about?" Aliyah asked, straightening out her blouse.

Valkynn slipped off the desk, flaring out her wings, the fabric of her dark blue dress catching some, but eventually falling with her. "A whole lot about nothing. Sometimes I just like to blabber on for the sake of it," she answered, her wings slowly folding back.

"Oh come on, that's clearly not true. I mean-" Sam stopped her herself, huffing.

Valkynn shrugged, already on her way back to her cubicle.

"What was she saying-"

"Samantha!" Connor called out, holding the door open, balanced on one leg.

Aliyah would never accuse Sam of being capable of murder, but certain expressions could lead to certain implications.

Sam took a controlled breath, and went to meet her manager by his office.

Aliyah watched as Connor invited her inside and shut the door.

"Pierre," she said.

The ferret's ears folded back.

"Are you a virgin?"

His whiskers twitched, and he clenched the armrests of his chair.

"Scoot back," she said.

She sidled up between him and his desk, forcing him to move. Facing him, she rested her hands over his, using the armrests to support her as she knelt.

She scooched backward, side to side, until she was mostly under his desk. Her red skirt draped over her splayed legs, both of which lied flat on the floor, her knees bent so that her calves hugged her thighs, her hooves pointing outward at each side.

"Come here," she said, pulling him.

He let his dress shoes drag against the carpet until her muzzle was inches from his pant zipper.

She ran her hands along the inside of his thighs, smoothing out the fabric. His scent was much stronger close up, as even through his clothes, the musk of a male was unmistakable.

"I'd be lying if I didn't think this was completely insane but..." As her hand neared his crotch, she lifted it and pinched his zipper between two fingers. "I honestly don't give a fuck," she finished.

She met his gaze.

Pierre's heart was beating so hard it hurt, his every nerve alive and electric, his lips trembling, whiskers twitching.

She pulled so that only a few metal teeth came undone. Her eyes begged the question. Again she pulled, halfway down now.

"Do you think I should?" she asked, her voice dripping with intent.

Pierre was beside himself. Of course he did. He wished for it with every bone in his young, hormone fueled body. That was exactly the problem.

"Um..." he began, barely audible. "I- I... Yes."

Her grin crept up slow, as slow as she pulled the zipper all the way down. And unbuttoned the top button. And pulled the two sides wide open. And laid her hand right over his manhood, shielded only by his thin compression underwear.

Her breathing would stop and start irregularly, sometimes coming in shudders. She looked behind him, scanning the background. No one was up and about, but at any moment that office door could open, and only Pierre's body would be hiding her.

She reached inside the flap of his underwear. Pierre tensed, his breath catching. The soft, fine fur of her hands tickled his sheath, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk, her touch becoming that much more firm against him.

"Mmm," she hummed at the movement. Her fingers explored, finding his balls, feeling the fluffy hair covering them, grasping them both, realizing their weight. Nice, big, and full. Perhaps the ferret was a teency bit pent up.

He sighed, the pointy red tip of his shaft already emerging from its sheath. The pulses of arousal kept growing stronger, the throbs of his heartbeat now also felt down below, pumping blood where attention was being lavished.

He couldn't believe it.

She continued to grope and caress him, kneading against his sheath, twisting and turning her wrist, applying only the gentlest of touches. Her other hand stroked his leg in a soothing back and forth motion. The longer her handiwork went on, the more he grew, the more blood filled his cock, the more his thoughts were drowned in lust. He wanted to fuck her, plain and simple. The way she sat before him, servicing him; the submissive position triggered something innate and anciently programmed. He was going to empty himself inside her, maybe more than once.

She guided his length through the hole in his underwear, the tapered end peeking through, gradually sliding further and further out. Closer and closer to her mouth. She licked her lips.

He bet that muzzle could take his cock like nothing else.

She began jerking him off, his full length exposed and eager for the lavishing. It was thick, almost too much to fit in her hand, burning an angry red, tapering at the head.

He spread his legs wider apart for her easier access. She indulged immediately in it.

His clawtips dug into the armrests, and he hunched over. She'd practically lunged, sinking her muzzle down onto him until her lips wrapped at the halfway point of his cock, her little deer nose flaring.

"Ohhh... g- ghh," he sputtered, hardly able to process the pleasure.

Those black eyes staring back up at him, the blossom white and hazel brown of her visage, the fact that there was a deer sucking him off, it all sent his mind into a tailspin.

She sank further, watching his expression as her nose bumped into his crotch. Staying still, she suckled, hollowing out her cheeks as best as she was able.

He couldn't moan out, he couldn't. Valkynn was still in the room, and who knew how thin the walls were in Connor's office.

This wasn't like him, but there was no way to resist. Not this.

Gingerly, his hands found the back of her head, just behind her ears, fanning over the smooth fur before taking hold.

She pulled back, leaving only a quarter of him still in her mouth, before she sank down again, pushed by Pierre himself. She let herself be moved, feeding his enthusiasm, positively ecstatic that he was taking to it, finally breaking from his inertia and acting on his desires. When he bottomed out in her muzzle, he thrust, semi-involuntarily, against the hotspring of moist warmth currently surrounding his cock. Her tongue played about the underside of him, even extending out her lips some, just so she didn't miss a spot. A soft little pillow for his dick to lie on.

He could feel it move, every little twitch, every lick was a flare of sensitivity, his very tip receiving the brunt of the assault. He pulled on her and thrust again.

"Mmm!" she made a little noise, surprised at the sudden deepening of the blowjob, but in no way did it make her less determined.

She reached for his waist, gripping at his sides, tugging on him.

He pulled her up. As she came off him the friction of her slick maw made his eyes nearly roll back. It dragged along the ridge of his tip, her tongue molding to him, sliding back and forth over it, stroking, teasing his delivering vein. The very one that was going to fill her mouth.

It was so wet and warm, hilting himself within her lips was a fluid, effortless motion. She even tugged herself down on him harder, using her grip as leverage, surrounding just that much more of his member into a nice, cozy refuge.

His hips jerked, and she came up a little. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

Holding her still, he repeatedly thrust in and out of her saliva-slickened maw. He watched himself do it. Watched himself muzzle-fuck his coworker of two years. It hadn't been what he'd envisioned for the day when he walked in, and even still, some small part of him regretted his instincts. Perhaps it took more than being quiet to keep people away. Too late now.

His shaft, which was already naturally moist, shone under the office light, coated to the very base.

With a faint grin, he noticed her eyes had gone a bit unfocused, and that one of her hands had mysteriously vanished from his hip, disappearing under her skirt. Now he really wondered what she was hiding under there.

He was reminded of his own pleasure as it mounted, each stroke he made another surge of bliss.

So good, so goddamned good, he thought.

The pace he'd set became sloppier. The cute white-tailed deer took it in stride, letting him use her mouth as his plaything, whatever he needed or wanted, she was only happy to provide to the fullest. The draw he had, it was intangible and difficult to pin, but it made her crave him nonetheless. This new treatment of his on top of it? She fingered herself with a newfound vigor.

One thrust would be fatal. Which? He could've had twenty more in him, or perhaps the next one was his doom. Her tongue cradled his cock as he pumped. He had maintained enough awareness to keep his own breathing down, which he was almost certain was loud enough for Valkynn to hear, even across the room. This was only made worse when Aliyah grabbed him harder, burying her nose in his crotch fur before she began to swallow. And suck. Swallow and suck, swallow and suck.

He practically whimpered. The tight suction of her lips and cheeks, manipulating his tip against her soft palate. Sliding over every stimulating ridge, rubbing every soft surface. He was nearing the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it.

In a final effort, he started thrusting against her muzzle, getting just that extra little bit of friction each time, that extra little taste of her hot spittle over his sensitive member.

It was more than he thought he could handle. His breath caught. He held her down and exploded in her muzzle even as she continuously swallowed, all his pent up cum painting the back of her throat in spurts. His eyes were cinched closed, his mouth agape, somehow able to maintain silence.

Reality came back at a snail's pace. But when it did, it smacked him in the face. He realized what he'd done.

"I- I... I'm so sorry-" he began, but was silenced with a finger to his lips, his eyes going cross to look at it.

She came off him with a pop, giggling as she licked him clean. "Someone certainly came out of their shell, didn't they?"

He tried to keep his panting down, and nodded.

"And by the way, I hope you know we're not done," she said.

We aren't?

Standing up, she took his softening cock and began to stroke it, pressing her bust to his chest.

"You're gonna fuck me right on this desk," she whispered.

Instant goosebumps.

There was no way, the front of the office was a literal giant window. Not to mention the others, but if even a passerby glanced in, there would be nothing to hide them. They'd been lucky enough not to get caught already. It would nothing short of pure, sex-induced insanity.

"Hey, do you guys think a pastel color palette would work for the new logo or would monochromatic be better?" Valkynn asked aloud, standing up from her desk.

Both Aliyah and Pierre froze.

She walked out of her cubicle and toward Connor's office with a paper in hand. She wasn't looking anywhere in their direction. Pierre prayed that she would just go into the office and nothing more.

She grasped the door handle, and he sighed internally.

Then she turned. "Guy and gal?" she asked, having not gotten a response.

She'd been smiling, probably proud of whatever she'd done on that paper. Valkynn was the only person in the marketing department for the local branch, and for good reason. She was gifted in digital art and design. Her smile became a confused frown.

Aliyah hadn't even let go of his cock. At least she'd stopped moving.

Valkynn blinked a few times.

My career is over, and so is hers. What the fuck was I thinking? How has this day gone so irreversibly awry?

Slowly, stiffly, she turned back around, opened the door, went in, and shut it.

He could already envision the conversation.

'Pierre and Aliyah are doing what?' Connor would say, followed by him bursting out of his office to confront them.

Aliyah yanked Pierre by the tie, her eyes wide. "Did you feel that?"

With just the two of them left in the room, it went dead quiet.

"You look confused. Like, just now, didn't you feel that rush? We just got caught!" she said.

They had indeed. What was Valkynn going to think of him? What were they all going to think of him?

He was ripped from his thoughts as Aliyah used his tie to leverage him into a kiss, her eyes closed, obviously lost in her own world of reasoning and sensations. She was a bit shorter than him, so it wasn't as direct an affair as he'd liked, but in the motion of things he couldn't care less.

The soft fur of her hand brushed back and forth over him, and even on his sensitive member, it began to stir lusts in him once more.

She really meant it. She wasn't done. Even though they were through. Even though they were seconds from being fired for being absolute goddamned perverts.

He leaned into the kiss. Started to rock his hips in time with her jerks.

She smiled, even with their lips connected. Then they broke off.

She stepped back, releasing him, moving instead to unbutton the top button of her blouse. The moment was let to linger, as she undid the concealing garment torturously slow. As the cloth parted down the middle, she let it fall off her shoulders. Her trim figure was bare save for her skirt and the blue sports bra she wore. She reached behind her back, and with a twist of her wrist, it fell away.

His eyes widened.

Well, those are nice, he thought.

She came back to him, and he immediately grabbed her tits, squeezing the smooth, perky mounds. He gasped as she strokes him off once more, working vigorously to get him hard again. The rest time had been short but sufficient, plus seeing and feeling her feminine body had helped rejuvenate his desire.

She saw it too. The glint, the way he breathed shallow and practical, tensing at every touch.

She spun around, her head still turned to keep her eye on him. Both palms planted on the desk, she let her back naturally arch toward the floor, her curves accentuated by the way her shapely rear jut out, front and center for Pierre to appreciate.

Closing the distance, he lifted her skirt. He feasted upon the sight of her heart shaped ass, her perfectly sculpted cheeks topped by that signature white tail her species was named after. Her smooth thighs were caramel brown, except for the streak of vanilla white that ran down her belly and framed her sex. A sex that was, unfortunately for him, veiled by her blue, lace panties. They did little to hide the shape. She meeped when she felt him pull the thin covering aside, exposing her glistening pussy. White nether lips with a line of her fluid in between, so taut that her inner flesh remained hidden.

"Oh fuck," he whispered to himself, steadying her rump with one hand and guiding his cock with the other. He really was gonna fuck Aliyah right there in the office while everybody knew about it.

The tip nudged her folds, parting them with the weight Pierre placed against her. Suddenly slipping past the friction, he lodged himself partly within, his fully hard cock jumping in her. He bit his lower lip, and she gasped.

He locked eyes with hers before he slammed his hips against hers, pushing his cock into the most intimate of her depths. His knees nearly buckled under him.

"Oh... f-fuhhh... ghhh," his words failed him. The pleasure that shot up his spine and embraced his member was unbelievable. He had to remain still for a moment just to gather his thoughts.

He pulled out some. "Mmph!" She whined beneath him.

God Almighty, no wonder some people have a deer fixation, he thought.

Her flesh was as smooth as it was soft, a firm vice that massaged his length from all sides in irregular contractions. He felt his own tip rub against her walls as he prodded, grinding his crotch against hers, her fur gliding over his. With awe, he watched himself draw back and sink into her clenching snatch, the tightness of her loins making it a real effort just to get inside. Her lips stretched around his cock, an image that would stay in his mind for long after this encounter would end.

He thrust back and forth, spearing her on his length, every passing through her slick innards adding to the sheer euphoria he was enduring.

She wasn't being quiet anymore. Lying her head into the desk, she began to moan openly.

He was having trouble keeping quiet himself, grunting through his teeth. She was just too good.

He'd never fucked anything so wet; her fluids literally dripping off his and her genitals alike.

Their fur muffled the slap of his hips on hers, but only by so much. The moist shluck of his cock stuffing her pussy with every rock of his hips was the more distinct of the two repeating noises.

After all this time, all his effort to avoid her and everyone else in the office, it ended here, in the most attention attracting, loudest display of private desire possible.

And a part of him, the smallest in fact, loved it.

The shlucks became more frequent. His glutes tensed each time he hilted within her, his cock throbbing violently, a sensation so vivid to her that her body had no choice but to clench down on him, only increasing the friction. The desk began to creak. She could sense it.

Her whimpers and groans became higher-pitched, more desperate and expectant.

He never wanted to stop; he wanted to forever escape and be lost in a sea of pleasure, focusing only on what mattered in the moment.

He squeezed her cheeks by the handful, indulging as much as he could in her heavenly rear.

A tingle swam up amongst the plethora of every pleasure and senses, a crowing bliss that started small, burning deep in his loins as he fucked her. Her young, feminine body, her child-bearing hips, her honeyed sex, it set off his primal urge. He grit his teeth and pounded into her, but did not pull back out. His muscular legs tensed. He pulled her against him, grinding to get his already balls-deep member even further inside.

Her focus on anything in the physical plane vanished, eyelids droopy and low. Her own legs began to spasm, her vaginal muscles squeezing and relaxing uncontrollably on his sensitive cock.

He went off like a bomb. The first spurt of cum alone blowing him sky high. The second came without empathy to his overloaded senses. The rest came with less and less intensity each time, but that was not to say they did not drench his mind in feel-good, a feeling that confirmed to him that this little ambush had been worth it.

The aftermath was slow to come. It was a welcome ride down the peak of the greatest orgasm he'd ever achieved.

Their heavy breaths were the only sound. He stayed pressed inside her. He felt like it.

People weren't his forte, and probably never would be, but that didn't mean they were all bad.

His ears snapped to the click of Connor's office door swinging open, his head following suit.

Sam's ears pointed straight up, tall and alert. She was not surprised, she was not confused. Her strides as she walked were confident, smooth.

"You can get off him now," she said.

Aliyah's satisfied smile became a disappointed grimace. As Sam approached, Pierre pulled out, quickly trying to tuck his manhood back in his pants.

"Keep that out," she ordered.

He stopped and let his hands fall to his sides.

Sam stood right next to the scene of the crime. "Since the manager himself doesn't want to deal with this, he put it on me," she explained. "I think it would be best for you to wait in the lunch room while I question the victim."

"Victim?" Aliyah asked.

"You're lucky I don't call the police for this. And I would've if not for Connor. Now, if you want your job still, he suggested that you listen to me."

It was strange how Pierre felt indifferent now. There wasn't embarrassment or fear. After the first shock of Valkynn catching them, the element of danger had dissapated in his mind. He could see it in Aliyah too, the way she casually addressed Sam as though it were just another day in the job.

Aliyah rose from the desk, wobbling a bit as her weight shifted back onto her shaky legs. She grabbed her blouse, putting it on one arm at a time as she headed to the mess area.

Sam was locked on her all the way until Aliyah closed the door behind herself.

Pierre, trying to distract himself from the moment, noticed two sweaty palm prints left on his desk, as well as a dark spot on the carpet before him.

Oops.

"I'm sorry about this, Pierre. I can't imagine how you must feel," she said.

Her previous demeanor faded into one of genuine concern, to Pierre's surprise.

"I know everyone's kind of been on you today, and with the challenge on top of it, we all got caught up in unnecessary fighting. But no more of that."

She reached out and felt his shoulder, one hand clasped to her chest as she looked him over.

"She didn't hurt you or anything?" she asked.

He'd never seen her like this. The motherly, soothing tone she'd adopted was getting to him. It brought back memories of childhood; times when he was even more vulnerable than he was as a twenty year-old man.

His ears folded back, he shook his head.

"Okay. I just feel bad. You're the quiet, innocent one. The last person I thought this would ever happen to."

I'm definitely not innocent, he thought.

"And if you don't mind me veering off the road momentarily, I'd like to say that I'm impressed with the work you've done with us. And all of it with a professional attitude on top," she paused, her eyebrows furrowing. "You notice the little things in people."

He swallowed.

She shook her head. "The deer won't ruin this day. She's not going to make you uncomfortable anymore."

She leaned in so that her nose nearly brushed his ear. "And I'm going make sure all of your problems are taken care of," her whisper was gentle, but firm.

"Go ahead and lie down, my training in dealing with stressed coworkers suggests this is an apt way to relieve tension."

That's not true at all, he thought, but didn't dare verbalize it, and complied with her demands instead.

The carpet felt frizzy against the back of his head, it felt more than a little weird just lying with his dick out. He craned his neck, watching as she knelt down at his side.

"Relax," she said.

She laid both hands on his stomach and began to press and rub rhythmically.

"Massaging has been used for thousands of years to relieve burdens of the mind and body," she explained.

Her motions wandered to his hip-line.

"It's really effective. Something I've been interested in for a while," she continued.

They danced around his flaccid member now.

"I'm just glad I actually get to put that practice to good use."

Shy at first, nudging only his base, her hands quickly took hold of his tool, caressing the underside, stroking up and down, fingers curling over his tip.

Under her ministrations, he quickly hardened, the embers of lust reigniting in his bosom, that mist settling over his mind once more.

He guessed this was how his day was going to go.

Before long his cock was standing straight at attention, and her hand settled at the base holding him still.

"There's no way she treated this delightful thing properly. I suppose amends are in order." After that last word, she lowered her head down, down, down, until her lips hovered just above his tapered tip.

His cock twitched as her tongue came out to taste it, cradling the lowermost half before deliberately retracting. The tongue of a predator is much different than that of prey. There were thousands of semi-stiff nubs all across the surface, stimulating him at each and every point. But her tongue was so slick and heavy with saliva that it went smoothly over him.

Without warning, she dove onto him, stuffing his whole cock between her jaws.

He gasped, and almost reached out to grab her head, but thought better of it. A part of him still feared the doberman.

From his angle, he could see just how far she'd trapped him in her maw. He could see her tongue playing about his tip and all the way down his length, the way she pushed it against the ridged roof of her mouth. Her long snout gave her plenty of freedom to work with.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his reaction, and he could've sworn he saw the corners of her lips upturn.

Then she began to move. Slightly worried about her canine teeth at first, his dismay was swiftly blown away by the sheer pleasure she induced. Her maw burned hot, hotter than even his own flesh, and that combined with the abundant lubrication of her saliva lead to a delicious friction, one that rivaled even Aliyah's blowjob.

He thought about it over and over: I'm getting blown by a canine. I'm getting blown by a canine.

Maybe if he repeated it enough he'd have an easier time dealing with it.

His whole body tensed when started to feel vibrations, however small, running down his length. Was she... was she growling?

It was hard to make out over the slurping, voracious pace at which Sam sucked him off, but there might have been a faint sound beneath it.

She spared no expense. Her carnivorous jaws clamped down, increasing the pressure, making it harder to go up and down, but it was no matter to her.

Her soft wolven lips kept a constant band of tightness around him at all times, surging pleasure through him when her nose would bump into his crotch.

He wanted to thrust into her wet embrace, it was the only instinct he held back. He was only left to endure it until he would inevitably pop, cumming right down her muzzle.

And he was close, having already blown twice that day.

The predatorial way she gorged on him, as if relishing his taste, satisfied in having caught him, ensnared him in a world of pleasure he wouldn't dare try to escape.

It seemed as though the closer his end came, the faster she went. That keen eye of hers still monitoring him the whole way. She knew. Somehow, whether his face gave it away or not, she knew. She sank down, even further than the last time, cramming his cock past her maw and well into her throat. The tightness that enveloped his shaft was so severe that it pushed him immediately over the edge.

He came, painting the inside of her neck, gasping out, unable to make any words out.

Every throb was so vibrantly tangible, launching spurt after spurt down into her throat, sending shockwaves of enhanced rapture through his system.

The moment rode on and on as he watched her suckle on his dick, even as he came, even afterwards. If a single drop didn't make it past her tongue, she was quick to clean it up all while keeping the organ in her mouth.

Eventually though, she pulled off, finally giving his cock some reprieve.

"We must feel at least a little bit better now," she stated.

That was one way to put it. He felt good to blow so many times in one day.

"I know you've already gone once already but... I also know that ferrets have no problem going time after time again. Besides, I've always wanted to know if beneath your quiet, you're really more feral than civilized."

His stomach sank. Could she sense it that easily? He'd never revealed anything to suggest it. It had to be just talk, she couldn't know anything.

"Why don't we find out?" she proposed.

It was then, after those words, that the desire in her countenance became tinged. It was seeking, hunting, a vigor held only by predators. Some of the fear began to return, even though he knew it was unfounded. She wouldn't hurt him. Of course not.

She practically tore her suit top open, revealing her nude body underneath. He wondered if it was everyday that she went braless.

Straddling him as he lay, she placed her knees on either side of his hips. He could imagine her womanhood hovering above his tapered shaft now.

He met her gaze for a second, and the fire and intensity that burned in her eyes forced him to look away.

She chuckled. "Don't be nervous," she reassured.

Whether his still hard cock was a sign that his mind was excited by this kind of treatment, or whether it was simply a testament to his stamina, she regarded it the same, moving to lift her dress suit skirt.

"Look," she said.

His chest felt heavier and heavier with excitement. Between the dark fur of her splayed legs, her pitch black spade shone; a trio of tightly cinched, puffy lips. It was certainly different than Aliyah's.

"What do you think it'll feel like?" she asked, the possibilities running wild in his head.

It seemed she intended to answer her own question, as she began to lower herself, planting her hands on his stomach for balance and control.

His tip nudged the very center of her spade, causing her legs to reflexively twitch, slowing her descent by only a second or so.

She did not stop as her lips spread around his very head. She did not stop as the thick of his shaft began to sink in, inch by rock hard inch, pulsing veins running along the sides. She simply could not go any further when her pussy pressed right against the fur of his sheath.

They both groaned out.

He felt the copious source of her liquid accept him, even now dripping past their joining of their bodies to soak up in his fur. The entrance of her pussy was a constant band of tightness, clenching and unclenching around the thick base of his cock. Seeing her billowed pussy spread around him made goosebumps rise on his arms.

He put his hands over hers as she ground against him, swiveling her hips in circular motions, prodding his cock at all different angles into the cushiony walls of her canal.

It wasn't just how her vaginal muscles held him, it was seeing and feeling her whole body move that made him throb repeatedly, eager to fuck his next load into her.

She radiated heat. A high frequency, high intensity fire that blazed right from her core and enveloped his length, making him immediately wish to re-enter it when she lifted off him halfway, merciful and obliging to his desires as she sank back down.

She rose again, and as her hips fell this time, she rolled them, creating a unique pushing sensation against his manhood accompanied by a spike of pleasure. She caught the look on his face.

His crotch was becoming matted now.

She rolled her hips again and again, proactively seeking what made his body tense, his toes curl, his cock jump.

"Are we close?" she asked, her muzzle slightly parted.

He blinked a few times, his own expression drawn into one of euphoria and exertion. He nodded.

She lit up, and bared her teeth just the slightest.

Her hunger reflected in the power of her riding him, the controlled cinching of her pussy around his cock.

Among her furious desire, the look of the hunter she expressed, he could see the chinks of her own bliss, cutting through her intimidating image. Her legs would shudder, her fluffy tail would stiffen or wag, depending.

She was close too.

He thrust in the middle of her coming down on him. And for the first time since he'd met the doberman, she looked surprised. He thrust a second time, grinding against her, shifting back and forth with the limited space he had to work with.

Her clawtips dug into his stomach.

He snarled, shocking himself with the sound, proceeding to do nothing short of ravaging her. It was the same thing that had happened with Aliyah. It was what he wished most to hide.

He pistoned in and out of her billowing lips, grabbing her by the waist to get himself just that bit much deeper, the sheen of her fluids on his cock running all the way down to his base and well into the surrounding fur.

Her lips parted and her eyes fell closed, her head tilting back as she lost herself in the experience of getting truly fucked.

All the sensations going at this pace were amplified; the heat, the wet lubricant, the grip, sliding back and forth: he knew it would be too much.

His thrusts became forceful. Jagged, terse movements, throttling Sam as she took it. He was going to fuck his seed right into the deep of her womb so that she would bear his offspring. His DNA alone would fill her, impregnate her.

His eyebrows furrowed inwardly, his nose wrinkled, his teeth bared all the way to the gums.

She would be the mother of his children shortly.

He pulled her down until his cock hilted inside her, at which point it throbbed and tensed repeatedly, shooting ropes of his cum deep inside her flesh.

Her legs shuddered. Her arms stiffened.

"Ohhh fuuuu..." Sam never finished. Instead she moaned, eyes still closed, the physical sensations being her only focus.

He growled as he came, satisfied in having inseminated his mate. The undulating rhythm of her contractions around him was delightful; rich with pleasure and bliss. The slow ride down ebbed away his instincts. And some of his thoughts came more into clarity.

Did he really think he was going to get her pregnant? He shook his head. His brain really was wired wrong. Just that taste of sex had set off the feral animal within him, an animal that thought more simply, more irrationally.

"I don't blame the deer anymore," Sam said between breaths.

Pierre scoffed.

Just as he was about to move to amend their mess, Connor's office door opened once again.

Standing with her hands on her hips and a fierce determination in her eye, Valkynn looked just about ready for battle.

End of part 1