FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Requested by and dedicated to a dear friend.

If you'd seen him walking into an arcade, you wouldn't have given him a second glance. Five foot something, two hundred eighty pounds, with pale skin and a mess of wavy blonde hair, two weeks past needing a good trim; Thomas glanced around and nervously pushed a small pair of wire-framed, round glasses up his small button nose before checking over both shoulders and entering under a sign that read The Stiff Stallion.

Inside, over the din of glasses and cutlery, the clear click, click click, of horseshoes on cement floors seemed to fill his ears, making him pause briefly. All around him, large Draft Stallions, in various states of undress, carried trays of food and drink to tables, making damn sure to show the goods to any interested parties. One stallion caught Thomas' eye and sauntered over, silently offering a hoofed hand.

“Welcome to the Stiff Stallion. Why don't we find you a seat, hon." Thomas' attention was drawn from the conspicuous bulge under his server's leather apron to the deep baritone and smooth southern drawl of his voice. Offhandedly, Thomas noticed the way he seemed enunciate the word stiff. Upon seeing the sly smile playing across the Stallion's white and brown dappled muzzle, Thomas' face turned a bright shade of pink and he tried to avert his gaze. He felt gentle tap on his chin and allowed his face to be directed back upwards. His eyes met the steely gray eyes of his host and he found the courage to avoid looking away. The stallion continued, “I don't mind being your eye candy sweetheart, follow me and enjoy the rear view." With that he turned and gave Thomas and unobstructed view of his muscular hindquarters. The muscles under the Stallions sleek dappled coat danced in rhythm with the clicking of his hooves. Thomas followed, unable to avert his gaze, silently noting the intentional raising of his host's tail to provide the best view possible.

They soon arrived at a small two-person booth with with worn, navy upholstery where the dappled stallion motioned for Thomas to sit. As Thomas squeezed into the narrow booth, his host spoke again not hiding his wandering gaze.

“My name is Conrad, hon, and I'll be your server this evening." Again, Thomas couldn't ignore the shiver it gave him to hear that deep southern drawl and this time he let his body shudder slightly. Conrad's muzzle twitched up into an amused smile as he continued. “What's your name, hon? I'd like to put a name to that cute face."

Somewhere amidst the misfiring of his addled brain, Thomas managed to squeak out his name. That must have been the final straw on some camel's back, because Conrad broke out into a genuine smile, his black lips parting to show large, pearly white teeth. Thomas was looking down at a particularly interesting spot on the table, completely missing Conrad's suddenly disinterested glance at the menu in his hands. He set it on a nearby unoccupied table and spoke up.

“You know what, hon?" Thomas looked up at him as he spoke, face still a deep shade of pink. “Why don't we wait on the menu? I think I may need to use the mens' room." Without even waiting for him to speak Conrad turned and sauntered away. The look he gave was as clear as a spoken word. Don't keep me waiting.

In an uncharacteristic turn, Thomas didn't hesitate. He was up and out of his booth within moments, not wanting to lose sight of Conrad in the busy venue. He turned the corner he had seen Conrad take and saw two doors. One with a lifelike bronze sculpt of a winking equine vulva and the other, still lightly swinging on its two way hinge, a large bronze horse cock with sizable balls. Thomas pushed the door inward and entered.

Luckily for him, he was the only patron present. He could see Conrads polished hooves and signature dappled fur from underneath a gap in the far stall. Thomas approached and entered the one adjacent. It had everything you'd expect of a bathroom with one addition; a large round opening nearly the size of Thomas' splayed fingers with padded edges. Not your run-of-the-mill glory hole, but recognizable nonetheless.

There was no preamble or foreplay. A large semi-erect horse cock emerged from the hole. Thomas drank in the sight greedily. He could feel his own cock grow erect at the sight of the beast in front of him. Conrad's soft, leathery member twitched in anticipation elongating and causing his flare and medial ring to swell with girth. Thomas could smell his musk as he approached, not unclean, but the cock of a working man. Sweat and stray drops of old urine coated his length, begging to cleaned by a willing slut like him.

Conrad grunted, his drawl made gravelly with lust. “Clean it up, boy. I ain't gonna say it twice." Thomas wouldn't need to be told again he dropped quickly to his knees and wrapped his small alabaster hands around the girthy length of horse flesh. At Thomas' touch, the cock in his hands twitched violently and leaked pre-cum over the front of his shirt and pants, but he didn't even notice. He went to work with his tongue attacking every crease and recess he could find, bathing this almost-holy artifact in his saliva.

Every passing moment seemed like another inch emerging from the other stall, giving Thomas more and more to worship with his tongue. Pre-cum coated him now, flowing like a nectar of the Gods. Soon Thomas was forced to lean back from the wall to handle its full girth. All he good think of was the heavenly smells and tastes, the heat from Conrad's cock, and the endless horse spunk he was bathing in. He was barely cognizant of the flare beginning to form at the end of Conrad's throbbing cock and the escalating grunts and whinnies from beyond the stall's walls. Thomas knew he had to make a choice.

He leaned back, took three large, gulping breaths and took the head of this massive horse cock into his maw. It filled his mouth completely, continuing to spew spunk into is mouth and open throat. Fighting the urge to gag, Thomas persisted, taking and inch and then another until he felt the telltale pressure in the back of his throat. His body insisted he stop, but he wasn't about to listen. He forced himself forward and, with the help of Conrad's involuntarily bucking hips, took the last ten inches of shaft into his eager face.

Conrad let out an ear-splitting, incomprehensible neigh and rammed his hips tight against the glory hole and began to shudder violently. On the opposite side, Thomas' throat bulged obscenely with the clear outline of Conrad's medial ring, pulsing in time with his ejaculation. A sound akin to water gushing into a balloon filled the bathroom and continued for several seconds before it slowed.

During this, Thomas was in blissful agony. His head began to swim from lack of oxygen, but he could only focus on the flare locked deeply inside his throat. It stretched his belly and made room for the torrents of hot and musky stallion cum to fill his previously empty stomach.

Conrad came for what felt like minutes and the stretching of Thomas' already chubby midsection made him cum violently in his pants. The orgasm slowly faded, but the lack of air began to worsen by the second. He wasn't sure how much longer he would last and Conrad's flare still dominated his throat and stomach.

Through the pounding in his ears and the black spots swimming around the edges of his vision, Thomas heard Conrad grunt again before speaking from miles away. “Now for your reward, slut." A few moments later, the sound of muffled splashing started again. It took longer than it should have for Thomas to put the pieces together.

Conrad had begun to empty his bladder into his already cum-bloated stomach. The pressure began to build more quickly now and to his own surprise, Thomas came again as Conrads medial ring and flare engorged again. The mixture of musky piss and equine cum began to escape around Conrad's flare despite this and shot up Thomas' occupied throat. With nowhere else to go, it erupted out of his mouth and nose. The pale, milky yellow liquid steaming as it hit Conrads groin and splashed back to cover Thomas' clothes. He failed to care however, as darkness pushed away thought and it overtook him.

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Thomas jolted upright, his breathing frantic and rushed. He saw Conrad's worried expression and realized he was lying on his back, head cradled between the stallion's muscular thighs. The relief of actually waking up after that ordeal was enough to send him spiralling back into unconsciousness. He only had a vague motion of being carried away before all sensation faded away.

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