FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The wingtips were nearly touching, both fighters so close the pilots could and did exchange looks through the windows. Fox grinned; Falco threw a thumbs-up. Then they broke away in mirrored maneuvers, their sleek Arwings splitting wide around the body of the Great Fox.

Steady red lights indicated the target drones. One by one the pilots picked them off, their lasers pounding the delicate hulls and igniting the fuel cells within. Falco crackled over the radio, "Slippy ever gonna get to work on those drones that actually move?"

Fox countered, "You have a hard enough time hitting a stationary target, Falco."

Falco's reply was to pick off six more of the drifting drones, one blast for each, and to make the message clear he crossed over onto Fox's side of the Great Fox and pilfered one of his targets.

"Hey! Shoot your own drones!" Fox snapped. He cut close to Falco's ship, plasma exhaust flaring across the bird's cockpit. He heard Falco's squawk over the radio and laughed.

"Watch it, Foxie," Falco said, and he sounded both indignant and smug - a mix of tones only Falco Lombardi could manage. "You ain't taking this very seriously!"

Fox scoffed. "I'm not taking it very seriously? You're the one stealing kills."

Over the radio into their cockpits, sharp enough to startle both pilots, came Peppy's wheezing, twangy voice: "Neither of you are takin' it seriously! Get back here and stop pollutin' the radio with your moaning."

The fox shook his head and chuckled. "Sorry, Peppy."

Falco jetted ahead of Fox, coming from below but never startling McCloud - he was accustomed to Falco's showboating. Even then it impressed him the way Falco could cut his propulsion, swing his ship into an about-face and bring the engines back online, all without going off-course or stunning himself with the Gs. He beat Fox into the hangar by ten seconds.

The smug blue bird was already out of his cockpit when Fox's Arwing penetrated the field separating the hangar from cold vacuum. The blue curtain of energy rippled as his ship passed through; the effect never failed to draw Fox's eye. It was like breaking the surface of a pool.

Fox opened his cockpit in the middle of Falco's victory speech: "...once again, of course, that I'm the best pilot you got and I carry your sorry tail every time we take off. Of course, I ain't lookin' for any medals. Just for Mr. McCloud to make good on his half of the deal."

Fox hopped out of his craft. Ordinarily he climbed down but he was fiery from the botched training run, angry with Falco in the playfully competitive way they always exhibited on a mission. He said sharply, "The deal was who could shoot down their drones quicker."

As if Fox was speaking nonsense, Falco quirked a smirk onto his beak and shook his head. "Yeah, and? I shot down mine and one of yours before you got even halfway through 'em."

The fox grinned savagely and stabbed a finger into Falco's chest. "Yeah, you were stealing targets, again. That's a disqualification as far as I'm concerned."

Falco squawked indignantly. He straightened his flight jacket, made of leather and embroidered with patches including the winged Star Fox emblem and the stylized outline of a pink cat. "Sounds like ol' Foxie just doesn't wanna take his ordained place," said Falco, slyly. He leaned close and made Fox backpedal into the landing strut of his Arwing. Fox's startle was just the advantage Falco needed and he pushed into the fox's space. He said, beak close to Fox's ear, "You sure as heck loved it last time. I didn't hear no complaining."

Fox blushed, grinned, and shoved Falco back. "Why don't you just admit you screwed up? Scared you might like it?"

"Psh! Scared!" Falco spat. He strutted toward the elevators, meaning to make his way to the bridge.

"Yeah. Scared. Like you got when you couldn't fly straight and I saved your feathery butt on Corneria."

Falco whipped around, scowling and pointing at Fox. "That! Was not my fault! It was Slippy's for not fixin' the G-diffuser, otherwise I coulda handled my own tail." He turned back to the elevators and huffed, "And speaking of that little green squeak toy, I wanna know what the deal is with those moving targets he's supposed to be building. I'm sick of shooting ones that don't move."

The fox followed him into the elevator. Built to move cargo, it was big enough they could have spread out. But Fox pushed himself on the falcon, pressing up against him from behind. He kissed Falco's neck and grumbled into the downy birdfur there, "Own up to it, Falco, you lost."

The bird grunted. He struggled lamely but Fox held onto him. As if giving in he reached back and cupped McCloud's taut bottom, the curves of which the flight suits accentuated beautifully. "Yeah, well, I guess it's easier to just shut you up than try to explain why I was totally justified in shooting your target. Even though you were taking your sweet time getting to 'em."

Fox snickered. He slid his paw under the waist of Falco's jeans - the bird never wore a flight suit, but at least he flew the colors on his patches. Falco wore his jeans snug but there was room enough that Fox cupped his groin. He said, "Not even bothering with a jockstrap, Falco? I bet you were expecting to lose."

"Shaddup, Fox," Falco hissed. He touched Fox's groping paw outside the jeans. His penis stiffened in McCloud's fingers. Plump, uncircumcised, hot. He closed his eyes, tilted back his head, and said lowly, "Much as I hate sayin' it, Fox, nobody touches me the way you do."

"I know," was all Fox said. Conveniently near the control panel for the elevator, he pressed one of the worn-smooth metal buttons. The elevator jerked to a halt, then reversed its course, descending along the middle of the ship. The display above the buttons read: Destination: Crew Quarters.

Fox and Falco had barely made it into the bird's quarters when Falco roughly stripped off his jacket. His quarters were closer to the elevator than Fox's; convenience led them there. Fox's flightsuit was gone, left in the elevator like he'd been teleported out of his clothing. It annoyed the old rabbit when Fox and Falco let their shenanigans get the better of them; his elderly bitching would make for an entertaining distraction later.

McCloud pressed the falcon to the cool steel wall. His taut vulpine body was dressed only in a jockstrap, a masculine scent ingrained in his fur. It was a fermentation of sweat and musk only a tight flightsuit could stew so perfectly. He licked Falco's neck, smearing up the birdfur with drool. Then he nuzzled into cords of tendon and artery, pinched with his teeth, and made the surly bird gasp.

"Jeez, Foxie, lemme get my pants off at least," Falco sputtered.

The fox slurped over Falco's neck. A bead of blood welled into his down, twinging blue hairs red. His brush tail swishing, Fox grumbled, "Yeah, just don't take too long. It's been ages since I got to top."

Although he was blushing, making a tent of his jeans, Falco's smirk was irrepressible. "Top Slippy," he snickered. "He's not so bad."

Fox shook his head and laughed. He watched with no small amount of lust in his stare as Falco popped open his fly and slid down his jeans. The bird's bare legs were long, toned; his penis was fat and pink and very familiar to Fox. Precum beaded at its tip. "You talking from experience, Falco?"

The bird shrugged. In just his undershirt with his pants around his ankles, he looked almost dainty. Fox cupped his penis and stroked up to its head a few times; the bird shuddered, grinned. "I clapped that fat, green ass a couple times, so what? Hey, his voice is pretty cute when he's getting stuffed. Like fuckin' a girl if you close your eyes and picture it."

"Unbelievable," Fox scoffed. He wasn't about to tell Falco he had fucked the frog himself. He pecked a kiss on the falcon's beak, then slid his tongue past its sharp keratin edges. Falco licked back at McCloud's invading tongue, hugging the fox to his own athletic frame.

Lowly Falco grunted, "Mm, hey Fox."

"Falco," Fox grumbled in kind. He touched loins with the bird, letting Falco's pulsing meat rub the sweaty pouch of his jockstrap. In it, his own phallus formed a modest but unmistakable outline. He kissed the bird's beak, his head, between his eyes. Falco softly cooed. Fox slyly asked, "Want me to eat you first?"

Falco felt over Fox's back, sliding fingers through fur damp with sweat. "Like you gotta ask that," he groused, as if a dumber question had never been spoken.

Fox grinned. "Right, yeah. Forgot who I was talking to."

McCloud knelt, slipped his fingers around the falcon's penis and stroked it slowly towards the bird's loins. As the foreskin rolled back to expose the sticky, round head of the glans, Fox cooed, "It's no wonder Katt wants to tie you down. You have the nicest dick I've ever seen." He pecked a kiss on the glans, and Falco, already blushing, looked away as though the bare bulkhead had become interesting.

"Shut it, McCloud," he grumbled.

Fox snickered. He stroked Falco's cock, masturbating him casually. He indulgently rubbed his cheek against its side. "Fine. Best dick I've ever seen except my own, better?"

"Jeez, you get fuckin' corny when you're in the mood," Falco said. He pulled away from Fox, who held onto his penis like a lover not wanting to let go. Unceremoniously he knelt on Fox's bed, knees at the edge and feet hanging over. His tailfeathers splayed above his taut blue rear. "Eat my fuckin' ass out already, ya tease. And then fuck my ass."

"Sir, yes sir!" Fox said, snapping a sloppy salute that made Falco laugh and then curse. With a grin Fox stepped up behind Falco and captured the bird's cheeks in his paws. He kneaded Falco's ass, groping it, savoring its downy fluff and the hint of fat beneath. He parted the cheeks and bared Falco's snug pink rim, which was dappled by the sweat in his ass crack. "This is your best angle, you know," Fox said a moment before he dipped his snout into Falco's ass.

Fox ceased teasing. He started to slobber and smooch on the falcon's offered rim, smearing on the warm drool, tasting the salt of his sweat. As he ate his jockstrap began to tent, and he unhanded Falco's right buttock so that he could fondle himself. Then for a moment he paused, nose to Falco's rim, and savored the heady male musk which emanated from his teammate's pucker. He breathed across Falco's crack, making warm wet fur even more humid, and said, "Yes, I'm smelling you, get over it."

"Ya weird musk fiend," Falco scoffed, yet with a grin on his beak. He reached back and pulled aside the cheek Fox had unhanded. Unlike Fox he knew what his pain tolerance was, how rough he could be, and he spread the cheek as far as he could. The pink star of his asshole tugged slightly apart, and Fox socked his nose into the ring and simply snorted it.

Fox snorted a second time, then shuddered. He tugged down his jockstrap and his erection bounced free. "You've got me there, Falco," he said. Deciding that Falco's slightly agape pucker was too good to pass up, he pushed his lips to its rim and slipped his tongue inside of the bird.

As Fox's tongue swabbed his most tender area, Falco grimaced and held the topsheet in his fists. "Ah, fuck," he breathed, his penis twitching and throbbing hard. "Fuck, Fox, eat me the fuck out..."

The fox's tongue dug deeper, opening Falco, swabbing inside, glazing him with drool. He packed his jowl-lips against the bird and fondled his genitals. He suckled Falco's asshole, bringing blood to the surface of its ring, making it plump and tender. When he broke the suction, Falco grunted, curled his toes, and exhaled in a low, lusty sigh.

Fox slid his tongue out of Falco with a flourishing slurp. Drool clung to his lips and the falcon's down, dripping over the back of his balls. Wordlessly Fox stepped onto the bed, toes finding purchase on the sagging edge with Falco's knees. As he hunched over the bird he gripped and guided his penis into Falco's ass crack; his entry was smooth, his uncut meat greasy with precum. It pierced the slobber-streaked bullseye of Falco's asshole with only a faintly wet noise.

"Ah, damn, Fox!" Falco cried, not in anger but passion. The falcon pushed back. Fox bucked his hips, burying his penis with a sharp impact. Fox's balls rested on Falco's and the fox's breast touched Falco's back. Managing to sound both gruff and plaintive, Falco snapped, "C'mon, Fox, get after it!"

Fox kissed the back of Falco's neck and moved his hips. He began slowly, as if testing the bird he'd fucked dozens of times before. He found himself savoring the sensations: the tight wet warmth of Falco's ass around his cock, how the bird's snugness rolled back his foreskin to bare his sensitive glans. Soon he began picking up speed. Fox licked Falco's neck, then cheek. He grumbled, "You know that tough guy stuff doesn't work on me, don't you? I know the real you."

"Yeah, of course you do," Falco huffed. He was pushing back into Fox, masturbating, squirting his precum onto the steel gray topsheet. His legs drifted apart somewhat and his balls bounced with each swat of Fox's own sweaty scrotum. He turned his head to the side and whispered, "Kiss me, Fox. Gimme some sugar, man."

Happily Fox obliged. He licked the bird's beak, slipped his tongue past its familiar edges and put it in the embrace of Falco's tongue. The scent of birdmusk was heavy on his snout, and Falco drank in his own smell indulgently. He broke the kiss and softly said to the heaving fox, "Your face smells good, McCloud."

Fox pecked a kiss on Falco's beak. "Your ass smells pretty good too, Lombardi."

The athletic fox fucked Falco hard. His thrusts drove Falco down until the bird was on his stomach, penis rubbing the bed, face in the topsheet. He said unsteadily, "Fu-huck, fuck, dude, that's it, that's it!"

"I know it is," Fox snarled, speaking like a predator into Falco's neck. He could sense the arteries and he felt like a beast. He licked Falco's neck, savoring the pulse. He fucked savagely but not desperately. His thrusts were measured despite their harshness.

Beneath Fox, Falco gasped and squawked. He snapped his beak and bunched up the sheets. His tender asshole ached but in that pleasant way only anal sex brought; he rubbed his beak on the bed and he said, "Fox, you're gonna split me in half...!" Fox knew the tone. It meant he wanted more.

Fox laughed. Suddenly he plucked his cock free of Falco, who squawked and started to complain. Fox rolled him over, hoisted his legs by the knees, and quickly found his way back inside. He peered down at Falco, who looked back at him with what was meant to be a scowl but was too needy to be anything imposing. Fox said, grinning, "Now I can see what a bitch you are while I nail you."

"Fuck off, McCloud," Falco groused. He took hold of his penis and started to tug himself. It wasn't idle; he partook in quick and intent masturbation. He closed his eyes and pawed at the bed in his off hand, gripping the sheets when Fox seemed to his just the right spot. "Ah, that's it, Fox," he hissed, "that's it, dude..."

"You're such a bottom," Fox breathlessly laughed. He leaned over Falco, letting go of his legs. He kissed the bird all about the face, the beak especially; when Falco parted it for a kiss Fox was quick to slobber his way inside, over the falcon's tongue and against the back of his throat. As he exited the kiss he panted, "You should throw our bets more often, bird brain. I'll fuck your ass any day."

"Shut up, Fox!" Falco snapped, blushing badly and gripping the bed. His tugging was so fast that his hand was a blur. Around McCloud he was tight and hot, slick with precum and saliva. He breathed, "Shit, so close. I hate how much I love this."

The fox smiled. He hunkered down closer to Falco, almost impeding his masturbation. He nuzzled the bird's neck, not as a predator but a friend and a lover; Falco's body excited him. It always had and always would.

"Ooh, shit," Falco murmured. He was cringing, huffing, his body tense all over. He wrapped his arm around Fox and squeezed him close. That was when he came, shooting through his fuzzy blue fingers to splatter his mess across both their bellies, which nearly touched. His anus seized around McCloud and that tightness, along with Falco's handsome face twisted in pleasure, gave Fox the push over the edge he needed.

Fox buried his cock in Falco a few more times, each thrust harsh and slow, beating his hips against the falcon's ass. He spurted as he pounded the bird, shooting rope after rope of sticky, hot cum up into Falco. He shuddered and he grumbled, and he mouthed Falco's neck and shoulder, letting his teeth prickle and tongue drag. He heard Falco gasp, "That's it, Foxie, you fucking fill me..."

"I got your six, Falco," Fox playfully, but tiredly said. He fell against the bird and he began to kiss and nuzzle with him, rubbing snout on beak, getting the opposite in return. Afterglow settled in, enveloping him like a comfy blanket, and he locked lips with Falco's beak.

As their tongues came apart again, Falco cooed, "Pretty good, Fox." A grin. "You're better in bed than you are in an Arwing."

Fox snickered. "That's rich coming from a kill-thief."

The falcon wrapped his hands around Fox's ass cheeks, smearing semen into the fur. He pulled them apart and then let them clap together. "Instead of whinin' about it, how's about-"

The door whispered open and Fox looked back to see the stout and elderly Peppy Hare in the doorway, hugging their discarded clothing to his chest. He looked at the two for a beat, shook his head with a sigh, and tossed the clothes inside. He left without a word and the door whispered shut behind him.

"We gotta start lockin' that," Falco said after a moment.

Fox kissed the bird on the tip of his beak. "I would," he said, "but that look on his face never gets old."