FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The tow trucks flashing yellow lights pierce through the fog of this dull New Brunswick day, Mark watching the husk of his bike get strapped down. He should be in Quebec by now but chunks of his bikes crank case and pistons are scattered across the highway, he suffered a catastrophic detonation followed by a sudden loss of power an hour after he set off in the morning.

“You're good to go now – where you want me to take 'yah?" the tow driver hollers over to him, circling the truck.

“Know any good bike shops around here?"

“There's Lucas's, 'bout all there is for a couple 'o hours." With a heavy sigh Mark agrees and clambers in to the truck, cradling his helmet on his lap, and preparing himself for the long ride. He wondered how many days this'd set him back as the world around him started to speed up.

It's a good hour of highway, trees and more trees before they start seeing signs of life, colourful wooden houses dotting the infinite landscape of trees and plains. They start getting closer and closer together, and finally they pass a sign; “WELCOME TO BRIDGE CROSSING, POP: 752." They pass by a convenience store, a cafe and post office before they cross over a bridge and pull in to their destination, a dusty lot filled with cars and bikes, and a steel building bearing the sign “Lucas's Auto Repair" in red streaked with rust.

They get out, Mark watching his bikes get released and rolled down the ramp on to the dusty lot. It's a sober sight seeing something you've spent so much time, effort and money reduced to this. He really hoped he could get it fixed up, not just for the trip, but for the sake of the bike. Sure a 84 Honda Nighthawk was no Ducati or Indian, but this one was his, it was special.

“That Nighthawk yours?" he hears from behind, turning to see a young hyena wearing a dirty, blue mechanics jumpsuit. She walks around it, crouching down to look at the engine, seeing the hole in the crank case. “Well, there's your problem!" she chortles.

“Yeah I know! I was riding along and got a knock, tried to at least get to the next exit but uh, she didn't make it."

“When was the last time you did the timing chain?" she questions, leaning over the black and red machine, tapping the odometer.

“Never, guy I got it from said it was good." She's pretty tall, maybe a inch shorter than him and he's 6' clean.

“Well, he was bullshit'n you. These engines are rock solid but the timing chains always the first thing to go, and no one wants to replace them because it's buried deep in the engine."

“What makes you so sure it was the timing chain?"

“It's how I wrecked my first engine" She points over her shoulder to a bike hidden just behind civic on cinderblocks, the pair walking over to check it out. Another Nighthawk, this one in far better condition and in the rare red, white and blue livery.

“Holy shit! Where did you even get this thing? It's so mint!" He marvels over all the fine details only another owner could appreciate – the clear dials, the original turn-signal stalks, it even had the factory grips.

“Saw it in some old guys garage when I was painting his house. Apparently he bought it, rode it for a couple years till he threw his back out, let it sit for decades... Offered him a thousand bucks and that was that." She's smug as can be - they both knew that's the deal of the century, Marks jaw nearly hitting the floor.

“Did you buy a lottery ticket after that?" They both laugh, her cackles drowning him out. “You wouldn't happen to have a spare engine, would you??"

“I got a parts bike with a good one back home. 600."

“How much to put it in?"

“Hmm, for you... Free - if you help me out!" She turns around and heads toward an a old GM pickup and waves him over, Mark frozen in place and watching how her short tail swished and swayed with her hips. “C'mon, lets go get it!" He hesitates for a moment, looking around wildly - the tow truck had already pulled away as they were talking, it was just them.

“I didn't get your name! I'm Mark!" He yells over the radio blaring country, he doesn't even have his seat belt on when she floors it, kicking up a cloud of dust as she turns on to the road.

“Lucy!" she yells back, reaching over to turn the music down. “Where were you goin' anyway? You know, before you blew your engine up!" It's hard to tell which black marks on her face are oil and which are spots.

“Toronto! Just left Halifax yesterday, going on vacation, gonna see a leafs game and hang out for a week. You ever been?"

“Nope, barely even left Bridge Crossing." There's some resentment in her voice, punctuated with a heavy sigh as she turns off the villages main drag and on to a gravel road. “Gotta stay here, old man can't work any more so I have to handle the shop."

“Lucas?" he questions, leaning forward to get a better look at her.

“Yeah that's him." They fall silent for a minute or two, he didn't want to question any further and stick his nose in her sensitive business. Soon after she puts on the turn signal, taking the truck down a long wooded driveway to a small bungalow, with cars of all sorts in various states of decay all around. She just leaves the truck in the driveway, hopping out and making her way to a large, decrepit barn.

“These all yours? He asks, gesturing to the vehicles.

“Nah, most of 'em are my dads, and most of those he got from people that skipped their bills or just never came to pick their car up." She has to really lean in to the sliding door to get it open, then fumbling around for a light switch. The place is full floor to ceiling with junk - everything from a canoe, to a treadmill, old couches, lawnmowers and everything else in between. She takes a few steps before falling on to one of the couches, laying down and grunting.

“You – you ok?" His heart rate jumped, unsure if she's just tired or worse.

“Just... Dad works me hard, I never really get a chance to just rest. Or just be me." he didn't need to poke further, her voice and face said everything. He finds a weights bench to sit on next to the couch, by the armrest she's resting her head on. “Like, what you're doing, riding across half of Canada? That's cool, that's what I wanna do some time. But no, all I do is replace brakes and mufflers of some pensioners shitbox all day."

“I dunno what to tell you. I – I sorta had to do the same with my mom." Mark takes a deep breath, biting his lip. He'd never shared this with anyone, let alone someone he just met, yet it felt right. “She came down with early onset dementia, it was a few years bef-" he's stopped by her, two fingers on his lips to gently shut him up.

“You don't have to say any more. I know how it is and – and I know how it'll end." They share a knowing look, Lucy's face slowly morphing in soft smile. “You know, most the guys around here don't know how the world works. They never had any real problems, they just spend all day riding ATVs and hunting. They just – they just don't get it."

They share the quiet moment together, nothing else needed to be said. She could see something in him, something different, someone just as world-weary and grounded as her. Her mind wonders, for the first time she had an idea of a future that wasn't stuck in the middle of nowhere, with someone new and exciting.

“You wanna get going on the road again, don't you" she mumbles, her daydreaming broke as she watched how he look around the barn, fearing the worst.

“Nah, I wanna hang out with you some more." The hyenas cheeks go bright red, his hand reaching down to stroke her black hair and caress her soft, fuzzy ears, earning some happy chirps out of her. “Don't worry about me, I got a while before I gotta be there." His eyes wonder up and down her body, especially where her jumpsuits buttoned down, giving a peek of her cleavage and bra. He'd never really looked at someone outside of his own species like this, it felt strange, different and even wrong, but he couldn't deny his growing feelings for her.

“Really? Like what you see?" she cackles playfully as she catches his gaze, their eyes locking for a just a moment – he couldn't quiet place her emotions.

“I didn't mean to be rude, I was just-" Mark mutters, turning away and covering his face in shame.

“Oh shut it!" With a groan she pushes herself up to her feet, standing up before him. Even under her jumpsuit he can see how muscular her frame is, with a little weight in all the right places. Clawed fingers undo a couple buttons down her bust, then with a shrug and shake her jumpsuit falls down to her waist, hanging off her hips. He stares slack jawed at her furred form, everything from her toned belly to her muscular arms. “Does this answer your burning question?" He nods like a dope, Lucy straddling him, sitting in his lap.

“You know, you don't have to..." he mumbles, hesitancy slipping away and hands slipping up, grabbing and fondling her chest. He can see and feel her nipples even through her bra, rubbing her thumbs over them to earn all sorts of happy growls out of her. “I've never really been with a anthro before, your fur is so soft!"

“And you're my first human! You all got such weird, silly flat faces!" She sticks her tongue out at him, “How do you even kiss without a muzzle and such a small tongue?"

“Like this" he murmurs, a hand under her chin guiding their lips together. It's sloppy and awkward as each of them learns the other, but genuine, and lasts till they both need a break for air. “See, we're not so different!" he laughs, both staring in each others eyes, eager for more.

“You're different enough, but in a good way!" She unzips his leather jacket, pushing it off of him, running her thick pawpads up and down his smooth arms, then up and under his shirt as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra. “Do you have a... You know."

“A what?" he retorts, finally getting her bra off, tossing it on the couch and admiring her bar chest. He couldn't help himself, leaning in to sniff and kiss a sensitive, jet black nipple. “I don't have anything, I got checked up a few months ago."

“No not that! I mean yes that too, but something else! I, uhm..." she stumbles over her words, playing with her hair to try and calm her nerves as he focuses on her chest, the hyena leaning in to whisper; “You know... A condom." He takes his face out of her chest, looking a little shocked.

“You really wanna go there? We just met!" he pauses for a moment, they're both going so fast! yet it felt so right, he'd never felt this way with a woman before. “No, I don't, sorry."

“Fuck!" she yells, huffing and climbing up off of him, head in her palm as she paces back and forth . “Of course, there it is, the universe fucking up my chance with prince charming!"

“Hey hey hey, it's fine! I saw a convenience store on the way here, I'm sure I can pick up a pack there." he reassures her, reaching around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, her compliment not going unnoticed. “We'll get the engine, swing by the store on the way back to the shop, and maybe tonight..."

“No, we can't. Everyone in this town knows everyone, my dad'll find out and, look – he just can't know about this."

“What? No, you really think some store clerk would care?"

“Look the old farts and battleaxes around here have nothing better to do than gossip, I still hear about the time I got caught speeding... That was 4 years ago!" They share a sigh, his member poking in to her rear the entire time, taunting both of them. “I hate this stupid, dumpy town." He wanted to take her with him, help her get out of here, take her on his trip and then back to Halifax at the end. But it's not his choice, its hers and she's beholden to her duties here.

“Look it's fine, we can do other things!" It's hard to think straight, half of him wanted to comfort her more, the other could only think about getting the rest of that jumpsuit off. He concentrates, trying to say something poignant – and utterly failing. “We can, you know... Do... Other things!"

“You're horny, aren't you?" she cackles, half amused and half annoyed, turning around and pushing him down on to the couch, kneeling down in front of him. All he can do is nod along like a dope as she fights with his zipper. “Look, we both wanna do something, but can't do you-know... Why don't we do something fun and get you thinking straight?"

“Yeah! Yeah of course!" he belts, as if she needed his permission to suck his dick! Slowly but surely she peels his leather chaps down, raising an eyebrow at the sight of his dick.

“I mean, I heard humans had weird dicks... But I didn't think it'd be THIS weird." She takes him in her hand, rough paw-pads rubbing up and down

“H-how's it weird? It's normal!" His breaths are sharp and broken, every little touch driving him crazy.

“You're furless, but you got some fur around your dick? That's weird... And what's this thingy?" she grabs the tip of his foreskin between a finger and a thumb, tugging on it. “Weird!"

“Be gentle! That's... Just uh, pull it down, it feels good." She cocks and eyebrow at him again, shrugging and doing as she's told, pushing it down and back to reveal the head of his cock, Mark shuddering, stiff as a board.

“You're real sensitive here aren't yah?" she postures, hand around his member, thumb rubbing over his cockhead. He nods and moans, all the info she needed to keep going. Slowly she lowers her muzzle down, sniffing at first, then pressing her lips to his tip. Every fraction of a inch she slid down earned another delightful squeal and grunt out of him, ending up with her wet nose in his pubic hair, long tongue lathering over the his underside. She looks up to see how he's doing, smirking at all the wild and wonderful faces he's making!

Lucy makes her way back up, focusing on his tip with her lips and tongue, big radar-dish ears twitching as he got more and more vocal. He grabs a fistful of her hair, keeping her firmly in place as she did her thing. His hips buck and fidget instinctively as he finally reaches his peak her eyes going wide as she gets a mouthful of is his climax! Her face is as red as can be, cheeks bulged out, grabbing a dirty rag from her jumpsuit to spit in to.

“Y-you could have warned me, that's so gross – eww!" Lucy scolds, her brief flash of anger fading away seeing just how ecstatic and checked out he is. 'Did I really do that?' she thinks to herself, flashing a toothy grin and grabbing his shoulder, shaking him about. “Hey knucklehead, wake up!"

“Quit it! Quit it! I'm awake!" he grumbles, still a little dizzy. “What's the hurry anyway?"

“You shot in my mouth, asshole!" she punches him in the arm she sits down next to him, Mark yowling and clutching his arm.

“Hey! I couldn't exactly control myself, not my fault you're so, so - so good at that!" he goes to thump her back but she dodges out the way, then jumping atop of him after to shower his in affectionate nuzzles and licks. He reaches around her and starts inching his hands down her back and grabs a handful of her rear, loving how it made her eyes light up! He squeezes and kneads her, until a sharp, shrill ringtone cuts through the silence. She sits up, rummaging around her half-disrobed jumpsuit for her phone, pulling out a Motorola fliphone, her expression sinking as she looks at the screen.

“Eugh, I gotta get back to the shop, put your clothes on" she grumbles, pulling her bra back on and quickly buttoning her jumpsuit back up.

“Wait, what's going on?" he questions, pulling his bike leathers back on and following her as she beckoned him deeper in to the barn.

“I'm like, half the workforce and my dad needs me back or nothing'll get done, let alone have time to fix you up." Behind a few hanging sheets in the back corner is the donor bike she mentioned earlier, it's front wheel and forks are badly bent and misshapen. It'd already been harvested for parts, missing the seat, most of the body panels, exhaust and the gauge cluster – but the engine looked good. “Come on, help me push!" They struggle to maneuver it around the piles of junk, the wonky wheel and flat tires not helping. Slowly but surely they get it out the barn, lifting the remains of the bike in to the pickup bed together.

“Look Mark, I like you a ton but - my dad doesn't really like humans, doesn't trust 'em, hates even taking their money." She clears her throat looking over at him for a moment, then back to the road. “If he asks, you helped me get the bike out and that it. We took so long because a bunch of junk fell atop of it, alright?"

“It's ok, I get it. We got the bike, it was stuck, and that's it." The rest of the drive back is an awkward silence punctuated by country music. They both wanted to go further back there, but the universe conspired against them. Now they had to pretend they had no feelings for eachother. It'd only been a few hours but they felt far more connected than they had with anyone ever, yet they had this immovable wedge between them.

The sun is beginning to set over the old steel building as they pull in, a portion of the cars in the lot had cleared out already. The shop door wide open with a large, elderly hyena looking in to the hood of a 90s Pontiac Safari. He stops what he's doing to look over at the pair pulling the old bike out of the truck, content to watch them struggle.

“What took you so long?" he shouts at her from across the lot, but his steely eyes never leave him for a moment.

“The bike was stuck under some junk, it took us a while to dig it out and get it in the truck." Mark replies to him, Lucy side-eyeing him as they wheel it in to the shop, setting it by his own bike. “I'm Mark, by the way." He reaches his hand out to offer a friendly handshake, but Lucas just stares back at him.

“You calling my stuff junk, boy?" He's a boulder, expression unchanging, his gaze slowly dismantling all hope of goodwill or compromise between the two. His chest puffs up and he takes a step towards him, glaring down at him past his grey-speckled snout. He's got the look of a man that'd kill anyone that'd so much as look at his precious little girl, and probably already has.

“No, I-" he starts, but is cut off by Lucy stepping between them.

“It was stuck, Dad. It was it was tangled with the exhaust for my Vandura, it must've knocked a few things over when it fell." She speaks in that overly feminine tone she knows he likes, giving him a soft smile to go with it. The older, gruff anthro looks at her while shooting a brief look at Mark every now and then, finally relenting and nodding, turning back to his work.

“Do his bike tomorrow, we need this and Mr. Laheys truck done before sundown." he grumbles, more focused on whatever it is he's doing.

“Alright, dad" she sighs, feeling like she just defused a bomb. She gestures for Mark to follow, stepping just out of earshot of her dad. “There's a motel just down the street, near the bridge. It's pretty crummy, but they got satellite." She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to do so much more, but this is the best she can do. “Just promise me we'll see each other some more before you go?"

“I promise." He reaches to hug her, remembering where they are when she shakes her head, mouthing “sorry" to her. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Lucas isn't looking, blowing her a kiss once the coast is clear – Lucy making an exaggerated grab to catch it, planting it on her lips with a giggle. “I'll have to go for a test ride, you know, make sure you put the new engine in right. You could always come with me, make sure I don't get lost." They give a brief wave as he departs, grabbing his helmet and waking out of the shop, heading downhill towards the bridge with a lot on his mind.