FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The first step felt so easy. Jean looked out from the hilltop, surveying the town he'd spent his entire life in as it basked in the slowly setting sun. The turkey vulture harbored no ill will toward his home, but he couldn't consider it home any longer.

Not that it was a bad place. Far from it. The small town was just that though, small and stuffy. He'd felt suffocated inside it for the past few years, knowing how few opportunities he had and how unwelcomed some of his desires were. Jean couldn't go another day with the prospect of his best career choice being a fisherman, even with his college degree.

And so, he left. Even with his family's blessing, he didn't have much money. Most of what he owned was packed out in his luggage he rolled behind him or was being worn. A bright yellow open shoulder sweater and tight jeans were all that protecting him from the wind that buffeted the turkey vulture along his path. He'd held up his thumb for passing cars, hoping for a kind samaritan to help him cross the country for a little while.

None stopped. Not surprising to him, considering how few people actually hitchhiked nowadays. This wasn't the early 1900's where a person could tie all their belongings on the end of a stick and strike it out from train to train. "Actually, a train might have been a good idea," He muttered aloud. "Least I wouldn't be walking as much."

As the reds and purples of the setting sunlight sky turned to deep blue, Jean found himself reaching a crowded truck stop on the far edge of town. He'd been there a few times when he was younger, one of the best spots as a local teenager to hang out and get away from the town atmosphere. So close to the freeway, it might as well have been the only thing worth visiting on the exit, with most truckers not even realizing there's a town close by.

Well, most people coming down here don't come to visit. More to pick something up from a bigger down nearby. Swiftly stepping through the wide parking lots filled with haulers, Jean headed inside the main entrance, greeted with an electronic ding. Like most large rest stops, this one had a convenience store in the front that connected with a fast-food chain, McDonald's to be specific. Though a second restaurant was part of this stop, a remnant of the original bar that held the area before the owner decided to expand.

There were a few patrons in the evening. Two dogs playing pool, a ram woman in the back corner, and a bulldog sitting hunched over at the bar. Taking a nearby stool, Jean sat down and raised his hand for the barkeep. A grey-furred donkey gave him a funny look with tired eyes, then sighed and headed over.

"ID?" He asked, muscular arms leaning against the counter. Jean pulled out his wallet and the driver's license within, handing it over to the donkey in its only real use. Not like his family could afford a spare car.

With a look of suspicion, the bartender took the card and looked it over, eyeing Jean every few seconds to match it up. He wasn't sure why the donkey had to, the turkey vulture didn't look that different from his day at the DMV. Well, minus the eyeshadow. Shrugging, the donkey passed it back to him. "What do you want?" He asked with a rough but purely business tone. "We're out of bourbon, so nothing involving that."

"Actually, I'd like a ride. I don't drink that much," Jean said, eyeing out the rest of the patrons. Any of them looked like they could offer, but he wasn't sure who best to ask.

The donkey blinked, digging his hands into the front pockets of his faded white apron. "A ride?" He asked. Jean nodded. "Kid, what makes you think I offer rides here?"

"I mean, I don't think you do. But I figured maybe some people...well..." He gulped, slowly realizing how little sense his assumption made. "Do people not offer rides to hitchhikers?"

The bulldog chuckled gruffly, slobber slipping from his folds. "Hitchhikers. At least the kid is honest about what he is. Not some hippy backpacker like they call themselves in Europe." Turning towards him, Jean got a good look at the canine. His shirt tightly hugged his stout form, with part of his gut slipping underneath the grey cloth. Dark green trousers lined his legs, ending at tan workman's boots that had seen plenty of days. From the black and wire mesh style backside of the cap on the counter, Jean assumed he was speaking with a trucker. Forcing out a smile, he offered his hand.

"Hi, the name's Jean."

"Paul," the bulldog replied, casually batting the hand away, "So you looking for a ride? Whereto?"

"California," He answered. Raucous laughter escaped Paul's lips. He held onto the counter for balance, drawing the attention of everyone else in the bar. Jean curled his head into his shoulders, wishing he could vanish entirely from the attention like a turtle.

"Ca-li-forn-ia," Paul sounded out, each verse adding another bead of sweat to Jean's brow. "And why do you want to go to that big old tire fire of a state?" As he asked, the bulldog's eyes drifted down the turkey vulture's body. Realizing his error, Jean turned from his seat and hopped off before the shivers got worse. Paul grabbed his shoulder, "Hey, hold on there little lady, I ain't done talking with ya yet."

"I'm not-" The grip dug into his shoulder before he could respond. Paul pulled him in, leering down and reaching for the bird's backside.

"Oh, I figured," The bulldog said, slipping past his pants and grabbing the panties underneath. "But I imagine you're gonna pay like one if you want a ride." Panic gripped at his chest. Jean looked to the barkeep, only to find the space behind the counter void of any donkey. His throat tightened, fear choking him before he could call for help. "It's a little out of the way for me, but I can fly, so long as you buy with-"

"Give it a rest, jackass." A deep but feminine voice said. They both looked up, with one hand grabbing the bulldog by the ear and pulling it back. Paul whined, letting go and reeling backward as he reached for the figure.

A white-furred ram towered above them, heavy breasts restricted by a greyish black short sleeve shirt and a leather vest. His eyes scaled down, taking note of the Texas praising belt buckle holding her tight jeans at the ram's waist. She looked down with blue eyes, those strange pupils being impossible to read to the shivering turkey vulture.

"For Christ's sake, Barb, I'm just-" She pulled harder, nearly lifting him from his seat. "Ow, ow, ok, ok, I said ok!"

"I'm hearing ya. What I ain't hearing is an apology."

"I'm sorry!"

"Not to me, Paul," Barbra growled, pulling again, "To the kid."

Jean blinked, almost forgetting himself, sat up straight as the bulldog looked over to him. "I'm sorry I flirted."

"Not flirted, Paul. Inappropriately touched."

"Yeah, yeah, that," He whined. Barbra let go, letting the bulldog massage his ear. She stepped between them, letting Jean get a closer look at the muscles across her body. They were subtle, less a bodybuilder and more a powerlifter, but it was clear she worked out whenever possible.

"You need a ride to Cali, kid?" She asked. With a nod from him, she pointed over to her booth in the back. "Come sit over there and we'll discuss. I'm actually heading out tonight so I'd be willing to shuttle. Why don't you wait there while I remind Paul how to not be a jackass."

Nodding quickly, Jean kept his face to the floor to hide his blush. He'd never been saved like that before. Fantasies? Definitely, but it's not every day some big amazonian ram comes to his rescue. Sure she didn't have flowing golden headfur, but that wasn't something he could judge at this rate.

Taking a seat, he listened for her hooved feet echoing across the wood. The leather cushions strained as she sat across from him, beer in hand with a neutral look upon her. "So, you're heading to Cali?" She asked again. He nodded, watching her take a swig before her next question. "Any particular reason?"

"Mostly to get out of Maine."

"What's wrong with Maine?" She asked, "It's not an ugly state, like Rhode Island without snow, but it's kind of charming."

"Well I've lived here my whole life, so I guess I'm a little done with the charm."

She nodded, "Ok, ok. Makes sense. You got anyone waitin' for ya in Cali?"

"Huh?" He asked, acting like he misheard.

Barbra raised a brow, "Do you got any family or friends waitin' on ya there? You can't be going out across the entire country without any actual plan."

That was exactly his entire plan. Granted he did have an aunt in the state, she wasn't in the city he intended to go to. "My dad's sister lives in California."

"She know you're coming?"

"Yeah." She didn't, but Jean didn't feel like mentioning that. Truth be told, his dad and aunt hadn't seen eye to eye in years, but that wasn't going to be an issue. Because he had no intention of seeing her.

"Four and a half days." Barbra took a swig from her beer bottle, guzzling it down while Jean stared at her in confusion. Pointing to his pocket, she said, "Pull out your phone and do the distance from here to California." He did so, letting Google do most of the math and finding that the entire trip would take forty-nine hours.

"Um...That's about two days."

"No one drives for twenty-four hours straight, kid. At least not consistently," Barbra put her empty bottle down and leaned back, "I drive eleven hours a day, not including the time I take off to get lunch or use the can at rest stops. Then I gotta sleep, wake up early, and get moving again. This splits my schedule to be about four days to cross the entire country. Of course, this isn't accounting for traffic on the freeway, which is always likely to happen."

He nodded, not sure why she was telling him all this. Surely this ride would take some time. "And that means you'll be stuck next to me for all of it. Following my schedule. I'm not gonna have you swapping places with me while I nap, no one touches my hauler."

"Right, right, seems fair," He said, taking a point not to look at her chest. He noticed her muscles before, still amazed by them despite the sedentary lifestyle she lived. If she wanted, the ram could lock his head within those strong arms and keep him there forever. Jean couldn't suppress his blush at the thought, nor the erection growing in his tight pants.

"Then of course comes payment. I can't be doing this for free," She eyed him carefully, watching for any shivers at what came next. "I figured since I'll have to be ordering for two, you can chip in for meals. Or at least buy your own. You got cash, right?"

"I...well..." His fingers tapped against the table, "I do but...well it's not much."

"What do ya mean it ain't much?"

"I only have like, sixty dollars on me."

She blinked, staring at him dumbfounded. "You wanted to travel across the country with only sixty bucks? Kid, this ain't the 50's anymore."

"I know, alright. It's all I have. Maybe we can work out..." He leaned in, circling a finger across the table near her hand, "... another kind of arrangement?"

Was it hypocritical? Yeah, Jean would admit that. But in his defense, the bulldog didn't push any of his buttons. Barbra on the other hand, well, he wouldn't say no to her strong hands holding him down. And from the look on her face, she was thinking it, right with that little blush forming between her eyes.

Taking his hand, she forcefully dragged him up the table. "Do you know how many floosies have offered to pay with their bodies to me?" Barbra asked. His small confidence gone, Jean timidly shook his head. The ram smiled, "Plenty, but none I'd actually like to fuck. And, fair warning kid, I fuck. You fine with that tradeoff?"

He nodded, more than fine with such a prospect. Smiling wide, she let go and got up from her seat. "Well, let's get a move on then. I got a schedule to keep.

"

Following the stocky ram out of the bar and past the wide parking lot, Jean reached a large and deep cobalt blue eighteen-wheeler parked near the back. "Careful now," She said, opening the door and taking hold of his luggage, "Don't want you tripping inside." Grabbing onto a bar on each end, Jean hoisted himself up and past the driver's seat. Barbra followed, pointing him to the small doorway in the back covered by a tarp. Brushing it aside, the turkey vulture found a spacious cabin set aside for them. Well, spacious for a truck.

"I'd say it ain't much, but I invested a pretty penny into this." Barbra carefully set aside his bag and scooted past him. For her, it seemed to just barely avoid being too cramped, with a bed taking up half the space and a small countertop with a microwave above it and a minifridge across. "Bed functions as a couch too, and it's also for storage."

"What do you put in it?"

"Personal effects." She grinned, sitting her ass against the blue sheets. "Now, I think it's about time we make use of your payments. Not really in the mood to blow your ass open, so how about a handjob?" Unzipping and pulling down her pants, Jean took notice of her cock immediately. Even flopping out at half-mast, it was bigger than any he'd already seen back home, both in length and width. The panties he wore strained against his erection at the thought of that tool inside him. "Well?" She asked, grabbing her dick and flopping it side to side, "You gonna start paying, pretty boy?"

"Mind if I get a little more...comfortable first?" He asked. With a nod from her, he started stripping down, revealing not only the black lace panties he chose to wear but the matching bra over his flat chest. Her whistle had him shivering in delight. It wasn't the first time someone had seen him like this, but doing it for a complete stranger had its own special thrill to it.

"You look mighty fine in that," She said, smiling. "Better than some gals I've seen at strip clubs."

"Seems like a backhanded compliment."

"And yet your little buddy is twitching." She curled her finger, begging him over to do the deed. Resting his knees against the tarp-covered floor, Jean had his face mere inches from the ram's third leg. Its smell was intoxicating, and with both hands, he slowly started pumping. One working the shaft, the other toying with her cockhead, drenching his fingers in precum as she grew erect.

"Oh? Someone's..." She grunted, taking a deep breath as his hands worked their magic, "Someone's got an idea what to do."

"Well, this isn't my first time."

"Even better. Don't hate virgins, but the call for 'em is a bit overrated."

Eager to show his experience, Jean brushed his thin tongue against her urethra before coiling out around her head. The saliva lathering her as he tasted the strong mixed flavor of the ram's privates. Barbra tensed, her fingers digging into the spare bed with every move of his tongue and hands. "Fuck...kid, you're just a natural slut ain't ya?" She jeered, though her words didn't hurt, not if his erection had anything to say about it.

Letting one hand go free, he reached down to pull his hardened rod from under the panties, pumping it along in unison to her. He couldn't compare to her. Barbra's cock was the kind to make girls gasp in pleasure, where his dick would make them just smile. Jean both wanted and feared it. Desired for that fat cock to fill him up inside, making him cry out in ecstasy. Feared it for the discomfort, never having taken something that big.

And her stamina! Jean found himself edging his cock over and over, trying desperately to keep from cumming before her. Most guys didn't last more than a minute unless he tried to keep them going, but the turkey vulture swore she was well past that. "Gettin...gettin' close, kid...just a little..." Her grunts came with a spasm. He felt her cock pulse before the splatter came, covering his face and beak in her seed. Jean couldn't escape the taste, stronger than anyone else he'd met.

His orgasm came shortly after, pumping with renewed vigor until he splattered against her floor. While the desire drained, the comfort only grew as he looked up to her smiling visage. "That's a good look for you, slut," She teased, "Covered in my seed, it's almost like I've marked you. But I ain't no damn mutt, now am I?" He shook his head, erection still bobbing despite shooting his load. Barbra smiled and pulled out a towel, "Clean yourself up. Laundry goes in the bin under the cupboard."

Zipping herself up, the ram left Jean alone in the cabin she passed through the curtain and to the driver's seat. Part of him couldn't believe what was happening, figuring it was a dream. Pinching himself to be sure, the turkey vulture chuckled and wiped up the spunk from the floor. Pulling his own clothes back on, curiosity took the better of him what he knocked on the wall under the bed to hear a hollow noise.

Lifting the bed up, his face flushed at the bondage implements her found. Dildos, restraints, gags, and even chastity cages littered the little perverted treasure cove. None of it actually organized, but that didn't matter to this bird. A sane person would have run, saw this as a sign of trouble, and gotten out.

Jean just simply closed it and walked back over with a hunch, hoping Barbra wouldn't notice his erection as he took to the passenger seat.

"You not gonna nap?" She asked, "You can use the bed if ya want."

"I figured it'd be best to sleep when you do. Otherwise, I'd be alone for like, eight hours."

She laughed, "Eight hours he says. Kid, I'm lucky enough to just get six." The ram turned her key, revving the engine. She put out a timer on the dash, setting it for eleven hours. "Day doesn't end until this hits zero. Welcome to the road kid."

Welcome indeed.