FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Veronica put on a brave face in the seedy, dim lit room, pushing her luck. This was nothing like the mall, where she could always make the security guards frown at her disapprovingly, knowing their eyes were aimed low as they watched her leave. She'd heard about the place from her relatively new boyfriend, but Will hadn't had the guts to actually come. Her heart raced as she stayed near the edges of the bar, wondering what her Dad would do to her if he ever found out where she'd come. She perked her ears up, feigning confidence. After all, the underage fox-wolf hybrid had a fake I.D.

Curious as to what one appearing so young might be doing hanging around in a place such as this, an otter takes note of the folf's presence and taps his phone screen a few times, intent on distracting himself. It didn't seem to him that sticking his nose into her business would win him any friends. But still his eyes followed her.

Her trepidation was showing, and it was becoming more and more obvious to him that the young girl had stumbled into some kind of trouble. This dive was a known hook-up for some of the worst people the town had to offer, and a pretty little girl like her was going to draw the wrong sort of attention. None of the other patrons seemed to take note of her just yet, but such a vulnerable girl wouldn't stay unnoticed. Grumbling a little as he stubbed his cigarette out, Ryder put his phone away and went to the bartender to place an order. The bartender nodded and returned after a moment or two with a glass and a can of lemon-lime soda. Pouring the contents into the glass, Ryder turned and started towards the white-furred folf, closing in on her quickly. He managed to cut off a seedier looking fella that had been working his way toward her. He set the bubbling soda into her paws and leaned over towards her ear. "Drink this and take a deep breath before you hyperventilate. You're obviously not supposed to be in here."

Surprised, the young lady accepted the drink without really thinking about it, then turned to face the otter. "W-hat do you mean?" To her credit, at least she didn't drink the soda without first glancing down at it. She sniffed it, and not sensing any alcohol, smiled and said, "Thanks," tossing her hair slightly with a smile like she'd seen in the movies.

Scoffing, the otter leaned his back against the wall and stood next to her, eyes fixed down on the hem of her top. She'd been nervously tugging it since she'd come in. "There's nothing in that glass but Sprite," he promised, whiskers twitching slightly. Then, he offered her a wry little smile. "But good on you for checking anyway. Hard to trust anybody, especially one as cute as yourself in a dump such as this."

She looked up at him, running her hand through her bangs to pull them out of her blue eyes. "Fine, you caught me. I'm only eighteen," she lied brazenly. "But I've had alcohol before," she lied again, taking a sip of the soda gratefully. Perhaps not the wisest to accept a drink from a stranger who wasn't the bartender, alcohol or no alcohol. Ryder was more sure than ever that if he didn't intervene, the folf would end up sprawled over somebody's bed, whether she wanted it or not. Taking a deep breath, the nervous folf said, "You're pretty cute, yourself."

Pushing the rims of his glasses back into place with a fingertip, the otter flashed another smile, showing off his pearly grin. "I have my days," he quipped, glancing her over once again, a little more brazen about it. The short, white vixen was wearing a tight blouse that showed off how much she wasn't wearing a bra, though she definitely could have used the extra support. And her curves only got more appealing as they arced outward to her wide ass, covered rather ineffectively by a short skirt. Her long, bushy tail was tipped in black, more fox than wolf. An early developer. She was young, of that there was no doubt. Eighteen? Sixteen would've been his guess, and he'd put money on it if given the chance. "Takes a lot of guts to come into a dive at the tender age of 'eighteen'. Some grimy locals come here. Who told you about this place?"

She leaned against the wall, trying and failing to look cool doing it. "My - friend," she said, pausing weirdly. "He was bragging that he even knew about the place, but he's never even been here. But I'm not afraid," she added, swishing her white fox tail. Her pleated skirt was longer than she liked, but she'd hiked it up at the waist a few inches to show off more leg, if not what lay between them.

Biting back a chuckle, the otter watched with deepening interest as the young folf swished her adorable tail behind her, lifting her already scandalously short skirt. Despite her age, she was well put together. Another year or two and she'd have heads on a swivel wherever she went, if the charmed young lass didn't already. He knew he shouldn't, but he'd always had a thing for arctic foxes. Sliding right over to lean against the wall beside her, he said, "Oh? You don't need to worry, as long as I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Veronica smiled back. This was going better than she'd imagined. Years of pudge had finally fallen away to these sultry curves. Boys at school never looked at her until now, and she thrilled when even adults watched her as she passed by. "From what my - friend - said, some people who come here want to get hurt," she laughed. She took another sip of soda, side-eyeing the otter. He was definitely older and stronger than her mongoose of a boyfriend, but he had all the sexy svelteness, too. Too bad he was so old - still, it couldn't hurt to tease him a little. She put a paw on his arm, white fur on brown.

"We have those types too," he said with a nod, the paw on his arm drawing his attention, his blue eyes shifting up her arm to her face. His nose twitched and he smirked, then slipped one of his own paws down around her waist, just to see what the young folf would do about it. Closing his fingers down around her hip, he brushed his thumb along the hem of her pleated skirt, teasing the fur of her midriff with a cone-like claw. She smelled like lavender and sandalwood, the light perfume that clung to her fur drawing him in further still.

She stiffened at first. None of the boys at school who have been nearly so forward. But she was playing eighteen, and she knew from reality television how girls were supposed to behave. She let him keep his hand there, forcing herself to wag her tail, and she leaned against him, nursing her glass. "So - why are you here?" she asked, meeting his gaze again, only a half-foot away from his broad face.

He felt her stiffen under his touch and nearly withdrew his paw, the realization dawning on him that, despite being so brash, the young girl might simply be acting mature for his benefit, as well as to prove that she could hang with a tougher crowd. He was prone to bouts of carnal weakness, especially where vulpine females were concerned, but he wasn't a sleaze. At least he thought he wasn't. "Me?" he repeated, ears swiveling. "Just wasting a little time I suppose. Don't get out very often. Just... a little tired of looking at the same four walls, and this place is close despite being a bit of a sewer."

She laughed, glancing around the place. "Not just looking for a quick hook-up?" she asked, her heart thumping. She wasn't really planning to do anything, of course. Not really. Right? She smiled up at him questioningly, trying to make her chest protrude as much as possible without breaking her back.

"I've gotten lucky here once or twice," he admitted, his cheeks warming a little. Her back arched off the wall, showing off her womanly assets. He glanced down for a second, his azure blue eyes darting back up the moment he thought she might catch him looking. "But it's a rare occurrence. Still... one does have to hold onto hope, no?"

"Is that why you're holding onto me?" she giggled, wiggling her butt.

"You grabbed me first," he interjected, giving her side a little pinch. "Or did you forget?"

Veronica yipped at that, giggling and thwacking the otter in the arm. "My name's not 'Hope'," she smiled. Holding out a paw she said, "Veronica." Her nickname, 'Ver' sounded too childlike to her, so whenever she was flirting, she used her full name.

Tensing up, her blow landed on his bicep and he took great pains to tease her, not even so much as a flinch breaking his composure. His cheeks dimpled as he grinned, the outstretched paw she offered quickly taken up. He held onto it for several seconds, pressing his thumb against her palm and giving her fingers a tight little squeeze. Veronica, he repeated silently to himself. He liked it. He liked it quite a bit. "Nice to meet you, Veronica. You can call me Ryder."