FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"This was a pretty good day." Morgan says.

"Yup, very fulfilling." you agree. "Thanks for coming with me. Don't think I could've held together on my own."

"Glad I could help. Thank you for taking me on that date afterwards. I always wanted to go there."

You nod. "No need to thank me for that, I enjoyed myself too, so it was fun for the both of us."

You're driving home after a day that had been long overdue for you. You finally decided to visit your parents' graves. Something you hadn't done since their funeral when they were laid to rest. You hadn't done so because to get there would have meant driving, and driving on the freeway. But now that you're comfortable with both, something deep within just compelled you to visit. So you told Morgan you were thinking about doing so and of course, she came with. But she was worried about meeting your parents in her casual clothes so she insisted on getting a bit more dressed up. You weren't going to debate the strange idea of proper physical appearance for the deceased so you agreed. Plus, she picked out a dress, and the chance to see her in something besides those overalls she likes to wear was exciting.

It was a simple grey dress, with this black bow wrapped around her waist. Kinda like something you'd see a flower girl wearing at a wedding, or maybe like a simple church dress. But it might as well have been a ball gown with how great she looked in it. The color scheme also complimented the grey button up and black pants you ended up wearing.

Anyway, you brought flowers to your parents' graves, cleaned off their headstones a bit, and "introduced" them to Morgan. As awkward as that felt, but well, you used to have conversations with their photo mural back at home. You kind of thought that you were going to fall apart and pour out a brand new batch of sadness, now that your heart can properly produce emotions. But you didn't, partly owing to Morgan's comforting presence, but also because you feel like you're at peace finally. The grief still sits deep within, but you're mostly dwelling in that acceptance stage.

You spent several hours at the cemetery, but you had went a few hours before noon. So after you finished your visit, you asked Morgan if she wanted to get lunch before you headed back home. However, noticing what city you were in, she insisted on going to this family entertainment place she had heard about but never got to visit called David Buster's. And you were fine with that, but you had been there before. And it was going to feel very odd going to a fancy arcade in what was essentially casual church clothes.

She didn't care though, so you went and had fun regardless. Morgan running this way and that as she went to play all the games, and you following right behind her. It was indeed a very fulfilling day.

"Also, what was up with you today?" Morgan asks suddenly. "Just because you beat me in a few games doesn't mean that was going to ruin my mood. You didn't have to check so closely."

"... I'm sorry, what?" you ask.

"I caught you staring at my tail a few times. Trying to see if I was still having fun or what? You don't have to try and check my mood like you would with Shelby, I'll tell you what I'm feeling."

"... Oh. Your tail. Right."

You were not looking at her tail. Well, you were, but not the one she's thinking of. You never noticed before, as whenever you would walk together she would walk right beside you, but today as she walked ahead and lead you from place to place, you caught sight of the surprisingly entrancing way she walks. Whether on purpose or subconsciously, she's got a very prominent and noticeable sway to her hips. Also whenever you would play certain games, she would pull that gamer move and lean closer to the screen. However she would keep her feet planted where they were and bend at the waist. Even through the dress she was wearing, it would give you a very precise idea to the curvature of her-

A sudden ding brings you out of your reminiscing. You look around to find the source and find two bright lights calling your attention on the dashboard of your dad's car. The check engine light as well as the oil light are on.

"Well shit." you sigh.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asks.

"Not sure, but I'm gonna have to take the car to a shop. Lights came on."

You think for a while. It's not entirely late in the day, and there's this one place that your dad would always take his or your mom's car to whenever he needed anything done with them. You think there should be a business card with their address and phone number somewhere in the drawer of the table that you keep the car keys on.

"Guess I'm gonna have to take it in."

"Hopefully it's nothing seriously wrong." Morgan says.

You nod in agreement.

You make it home. First thing you do however, is change out of your clothes into something more day to day casual. After that's done, you head back down to the living room and search through the drawer for the card that should have the details of the mechanic your dad used to frequent. Luckily you find it quickly. Pete's Parts. It's got an address, but look as you might, you don't find a phone number. So you can't call to schedule an appointment or see if he can see you today. You could wait until earlier tomorrow, but what if whatever problem is getting worse as you wait? Eh, you'll just go. At the very least, see if you can leave it overnight and either walk or catch an Oober home. You turn around to see Morgan on the couch, unchanged.

"Found the place. Gonna get going. You coming with?"

"How long you think it might take?" she asks.

"Depends." you shrug. "But maybe a few hours."

"A few hours huh?" she thinks to herself before she seems to get an idea. "I'm good."

"You sure?" you ask. "A few hours is, you know, a few hours."

In the same way that you practiced getting over your fear of driving on the freeways, Morgan practiced getting over her fear of being left alone. She would have you leave her at the house and go somewhere while she tried to keep calm. She's been doing pretty well with it, but sometimes the time varies and she'll have to call to have you come back earlier or later.

"I'll be fine, I promise." she assures you. "Because I know you'll come back."

No reason to argue, if she's sure then she's sure.

"Alright. I'll call you if the plans change or anything though. Likewise, call me if you need to and I'll rush home soon as I can."

"Will do."

And with that you return to your dad's car, enter the mechanic's address into your phone and take off. It's not very far away, less than a ten minute drive. But you do see a few cars already being worked on. It's still gonna be open for another few hours though, so hopefully he can get to you today. You walk through the front door and find a man dressed more like a manager than a mechanic.

"Hello, how can we help you?" he asks.

"Are you uh, Pete?" you ask.

"Sure am."

"Cool uh. Do you, perhaps remember my dad? Vincent. He used to bring his car to you all the time and-"

"Wait. Vince?" he says, almost leaping from his chair behind the desk. "You're his son? Anon, right?"

You nod quickly.

"Oh man. Vince was. That man, he." He walks over to you, puts both his hands on your shoulders and you can practically see all the good memories he's having pass through his eyes. "That was a good guy. Though you don't need me to tell you that, I'm sure." You nod once again. He remembers that he should be acting a bit more professional and clears his throat. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Brought my dad's car. The engine and oil lights came on, which is understandable considering it hasn't been touched in over two years. So I was hoping you could take a look, see what's going on? If you've got time. I can come back tomorrow if I need to."

"Absolutely." he says. "In fact. If you're able, why not leave it with me till tomorrow? I'll go ahead and give it a full service, return it to you running like new." He walks over to his desk and opens a file cabinet. "Think I still got his address in here, you still at that same address?"

"Correct." you confirm.

"Great." Pete says. "I'll even have it towed back to you, so you don't gotta make a second trip to come get it."

"Wait wait wait. That's um. A lot, and you aren't that far away. Plus, a tow? With the cost of service and maybe even parts that's gonna-"

"Oh don't worry you aren't paying for it." he interjects.

You give him a look of pure confusion. He stands and returns to you, placing another hand on your shoulder.

"I owed your father a debt that I can never repay. He became a good friend to me. He's the reason my business is still running today. As you know, I never got the chance to pay him back, and I was afraid I was going to have to take that debt to my grave. So, now that I know his son is still around and driving his car, I figure lifetime service might just pay off my lifetime debt."

"... That sounds like it might lose you money."

"It's a drop in the bucket compared to what I could have lost."

All these older gentlemen in San Vanargrand with their small businesses and their infinite kindness. How they keep themselves afloat is beyond you.

"Anyway," he says, silencing the solemn mood. "I'll take those car keys from you." So you do as told and hand them over. "And I'll also get you a ride home. Jacob!"

The person he shouts for comes from the service area, wiping his oil covered hands on a towel.

"Yeah Uncle?" he says.

And you instantly recognize this bastard's face. The only thing different is that his piss blonde hair is now a natural brown, but this is Jack.

"Jack?" you spit out.

He looks surprised at the mention of his name and looks over to you. He instantly recognizes you as well and his face twists in primal fear. This might be the same kind of look you had when you found those Reapers waiting for you.

"Oh, you know my nephew?" Pete asks.

"Yeah, we've been acquainted." you shrug.

"Great. Well, Jacob. Anon here needs a ride home. Take the truck and give him a lift."

Jack, or well, Jacob looks like he wants to refuse with every fiber of his being. But he relents and nods. After a moment, a pickup truck with the shop logo pulls around the front.

"See ya around, kid." Pete offers in farewell.

"Thanks a lot." you return before you walk out and jump in the passenger seat.

After Jacob here, takes off down the street, you grin like you're now privy to the world's juiciest secret.

"Job as a mechanic huh?" you say with uncharacteristic friendliness.

"Yeah." Jacob mumbles. "Uncle gave me a job, after I. Y'know, didn't know what else to do."

"That's a good job, though. Should be happy. Especially now that you aren't doing anything stupid like running with a gang."

"Didn't... Didn't expect you to try and chop it up with me so friendly."

You shrug. "I got no beef with you anymore, Jackie. We settled that already. New starts. new beginnings, you know how it is. Only difference is if you've still got beef with me."

He goes silent. So the rest of the ride proceeds, with only you giving simple directions. You thought about having him stop a block or two from your home, but he seems as docile as a mouse now, so you didn't see any harm in it. As you have him pull up to your home, you get ready to hop out.

"Hold on, uhhh." he starts.

"Anon."

"Right. Umm. I wanna apologize. For all the shit I. Or uh, we, put you through. Didn't really even want to, but you klnow, Darius. Or uh, Tiny. He's really..."

"Giant and scary as fuck?" you offer.

"I was gonna say 'charismatic', but yeah that. So you know, he's the one who got us all together, and kinda punked most of us into forming 6th Street. So even the ones who weren't all in on it had to pretend to be and well. That stuff with you got to him, and he told me to handle it. And to be honest, I woulda rather have taken my chances against you than him. So again, I'm sorry man."

You mull about, pretending to be weighing his apology.

"It's cool man. Like I said, we're past that. You might've given me and my girl a hard time when we met, but we can bury that hatchet deep in the earth."

He nods, content, before he pauses and realizes what you said.

"... Your girl? Who? The tall one?"

"Oh nah, the uh collie you hazed a bit that one day." you answer.

"... That was a girl? Oh shit."

You laugh, because that's all you can do. "See you around Jack. Or uh, Jacob. Speaking of, you should talk to your old friends. If they were your friends. Now that they aren't 6th Street anymore either, just like you." You step out of the truck and find a look of confusion on his face. You shrug to him. "You might like what they've chosen to do with themselves now."

You leave him with that as you walk to your house. It hasn't been too long at all, so you likely didn't even give Morgan the chance to even start feeling lonely. You also didn't call her like you said, but well, things happened far too quickly to even need to call in the first place.

First thing you notice when you open the door however, is that Morgan isn't in her usual place on the couch. It was kind of a long day, maybe she's napping, or just relaxing in her room. You close the door gently to avoid waking her if it's the former. You walk up to the stairs. However a sound catches your attention. It sounds like... Crying? Is she crying? Oh damn, has she been playing you all this time? Just pretending that she's okay when you leave when she really isn't? You alter your path and come over to her room. However, you don't hear anything from this direction. In fact, she's not even in her room. You do however hear those crying sounds again.

...

Or.

... Wait.

Maybe that's not crying.

... Your Solid Snek mode activates immediately, you crouch like lowering yourself to the ground will actually lessen the sound you make. You sneak your way back to the stairs and climb them one by one, gently, silently. Luckily most of your house is covered in carpet so it dampens the sound of your footfalls. As you climb the stairs painfully slowly, the sounds get closer as well. By the time you reach the top, you can clearly tell. That is not crying, not at all. Well. In a way it is, but they're more, cries of pleasure than of anguish. You peer around the corner and see your door cracked open. The enticing sounds coming from there. You continue to stealth your way over to the door, silent as a ghost. Your room is still dark thanks to your curtains, but your nightstand lamp is on and illuminates your room decently well. You peer through the doorway. And the sight you witness will stay with you for the rest of your life.

Morgan is in your bed, that's obvious. She also has the shirt you were wearing earlier today, pressed deeply against her face. She's got her dress hiked up passed her waist, and her panties have been hurriedly removed and left dangling around her ankle. She's also got a hand between her thighs and is currently in the process of treading the path of self exploration.

Actually, it's more like she's trod this path many times before and is in the process of retracing her steps to reach that glorious final destination. You stand still and watch. Your face burns, you can feel your heartbeat quicken. And you are, extremely turned on. Maybe you should, y'know say something. See what happens if you interrupt. But you refuse that thought, because. As odd and voyeuristic and semi rude as it is to peer into this incredibly private moment. You want to keep watching her. And so you do. This will also be good information for you, so instead of just taking in the sight, you decide to study her movements. Who better to teach you how to please Morgan than Morgan herself?

So instead of hiding around the edge of your doorframe, you position yourself right in the frame and lean against it casually as you watch Morgan please herself in her moment of perceived solitude. You watch the movements she makes as she massages the space between her legs. You take notice of the focus she puts on that pink protrusion near the top, and the increase of apparent pleasure that spills from her voice as she does so. You also notice through the sultry moaning entering your ears, the naughty sounds that escape as she engages herself. You can't get a good look at her face, as most of it is covered with your shirt , so you continue to focus your attention at what you can see.

How long has she been at this, you wonder? Did she just start, or has she been at it since you left? You notice a shift in her hand placement as she moves from rubbing the outside to taking her middle finger and sliding it inside. Pretty much down to the knuckle too, so now you're certain she's done this before. Instead of just moving in a simple forward and back motion you can kind of assume she's grinding her finger in a sort of gentle rolling motion. She's also hitting a part that seems particularly good, judging by the subtle jumps her hips make and the sudden squeak of pleasure her voice leaks out.

After a while, she starts moving a bit faster and faster. You assume that must mean the end is approaching. And with the twitching of her body and the heavy moan of satisfaction, you have to assume that you're right. You expect that to be the end, so you're surprised when she starts right back up again. She even takes her left hand, the one that's been holding your shirt to her nose, and deliberately passes over her left side to take her right breast in her hand. More specifically, she pinches the nipple that you just now notice are poking against the fabric of her dress.

... Does that mean she wasn't wearing a bra today?

She pinches and tugs at the protrusion on her chest as she continues stirring herself into a frenzy. She even takes her thumb and rubs against that protrusion of hers as she digs her finger deeper. You hear her taking heavy inhales of the scent stuck to your shirt as she picks up the pace and intensity. The melody entering your ears and the sight your eyes are being blessed with are making things hard to contain. Specifically, your manhood is screaming at you as it sits trapped in its confines. But still you stand unmoving, taking in everything before you. And once again you bear witness to Morgan's climax, seemingly more powerful than the last, as her back bows and her hips lift from your bed, her voice caught in her throat as she finishes.

Once she's done, and hits your bed spent, she takes a moment to recover, simmering in the afterglow of her solo session. Now is when you make a choice. Do you retreat back downstairs as quietly as you can, and pretend to show up, now that she's done? Do you make your presence known? What would be best?

"O-one more time." you hear Morgan whisper to herself. "Or twice. He hasn't called so, I should still have time."

You watch her finally pull your shirt away from her face, just low enough to free her eyes. She turns her head to your alarm clock to check the time. Noticing that it hasn't been too long since you departed she seems resolved to go one more time. However. When she pulls her gaze away from your clock, her eyes just so happen to travel down. Down passed your doorframe. Where she catches you standing there leaning against the frame. She freezes immediately, caught in the act. You both enter this odd, silent staring contest, although while she's shocked into silence, you stand there with a quiet aura of smug.

"Enjoy yourself?" you finally break the silence to ask. "Looks like you did. In my room. In my bed. With my shirt."

You can practically see the fur on her face beginning to smoke as her face burns with shame.

"So, is this what you've been doing to entertain yourself whenever you would have me leave?"

She continues to give the silent treatment, so you step into the room proper, and lean against your wall now.

"Well, anyway that doesn't matter." You bring your hand out and roll it in the

"proceed" gesture. "Don't mind me, keep going."

"... Huh?" she squeaks in the first sound she's made since.

"I could've swore I heard you say something about going once or twice more. So don't let me interrupt. Go for it."

She doesn't move though, as you expected. Frozen in place by embarrassment and shame.

"Not gonna?" you ask. She shakes her head quickly. "Well that's no fun. Why not?" You take a step forward and she tries to shrink into herself, closing her legs to finally hide her intimate space and attempting to practically sink into your mattress. You take another step, then another. And finally crawl into your bed beside her. You lay on your side, resting your head in your hand, and once again go back to wordlessly staring at each other.

"Want me to help?" you finally ask after another long pause.

"Huh?" once again, the only sound to exit her mouth.

"You said you wanted to do it again. But now that I'm here you don't want to do it yourself. So you must want me to do it, right?" You lift your free hand for emphasis. "So whadda ya say? Want me to help?"

You're kind of teasing, but you're kind of hoping that she agrees. To test the water you bring your hand forward slowly, and gently rub circles around her exposed belly. She flinches at the initial touch, but seems to accept the delicate caressing.

"But well, if you don't want me to, then I can just leave. Walk out the door, give you time to collect yourself, pretend this never happened." You continue to stroke her stomach as you watch her reaction. "Want me to help? Yes or no?"

Silence. For a long while. Emerald eyes locked with yours. After a while, almost imperceptibly, you catch the slight nod of affirmation.

"Yeah?" you say to confirm.

She nods again.

"Alright."

First things first. You use the hand not currently caressing her belly to grab at the shirt she's had covering her face. You fling it unceremoniously over your shoulder. You lean in and plant gentle kisses on her cheek. Finally content with the belly rubs you've been giving, you slide your hand farther and farther down. Of course, there's nothing you can do with her legs as they are. Noticing your intentions though, she parts her legs and grants you access. You accept that access graciously and move your caressing southward. Her precious escapade still apparent, warm and slick at just a touch.

"I'm gonna start now alright? But do tell me if there's anything you need me to do or adjust."

"Mhm." she answers faintly.

With permission given, you start, mimicking the actions she took. You run your fingers gently over her womanhood. As you do you make sure to take notice of her reactions, both visual and auditory. Those lovely dulcet tones begin to reach your ear and let you know that you're doing the right thing. After a while of this, you switch up and begin to focus on that precious pink pearl that Morgan gave most of her attention to. Now that gets her going, her melodious moaning increases in intensity and fills you with excitement. Continuously, you spin your fingers in small circles to stimulate her arousal.

However, after some time you notice. The sweet moans she's been giving you shift. To what sounds to you, like an almost needy whine. You look up at her, her eyes are closed, one hand gripping the sheets to your bed, the other grasping the top of her dress, she's completely focused on the pleasure you're giving her. But she wants more, and unable to find her voice to tell you so, she's resorted to vocalizing her need in a different way and subconsciously hoping you catch it. And you do, so you once again shift.

Just like she did, you take your finger and slide it carefully into her quivering entrance. The hum of pleasure she gives you is so pleasant it almost makes you lightheaded. You continue to reenact her movements, with the gentle rolling motions of your finger, you even use your thumb to caress the precious pearl. As you do so, you notice her craning her head back, regripping your sheets and her dress.

"Anon I'm-" she starts.

"Uh huh?"

"I'm gonna-"

"Gonna what?"

"... Gonna cum."

Your male pride sails off to the fucking moon. And like she did when she got close, you speed up and increase your intensity.

"Oh. Well. No need to hold back on my account. Go ahead and do it."

And though you didn't mean it as any sort of a command, Morgan's body seems to practically take it as one as you finish your sentence. Giving out and reaching her climax immediately as soon as she's given permission. You can't gauge the intensity of this one, since she seems to turn all her energy inward to avoid exploding and screaming right into your ear. But judging by how severely she clenched down on your finger, and the death grip she has on your sheets and her dress, you'll just believe that it was a really good one.

Once she finishes and relaxes into your bed, you withdraw your hand, and face her properly, watching her catch her breath.

"All good now?" you ask.

"H-how? So good?" she asks in broken speech. "Have. You done this before?"

"Course not Morgan. I just watched you and copied everything you did."

She turns to face you and her eyes shift from a look that says she doesn't believe you to one that says she completely believes you.

"You... You have to stop being so good at everything you try for the first time."

"I feel like this is one of the things you should be glad I'm good at. Imagine how awful it would be if I were bad at it."

She nods. However, as she does her eyes drift down, and seem to lock on target on something below you. Her target is obvious of course. It's been roaring with rage at you for a while now.

"Your turn." she says, taking her hand and reaching towards your pants.

"Hold on now. This was for you, not me."

"This is just me helping you now." she says. She brings her gaze back up and looks in your eyes. "Don't think too hard about it, or whatever."

... Well you're not going to argue. You help her snap your button and unzip. Once enough of the obstruction is clear, her hand practically shoots down your pants. However, the immediate shift on her face means what she finds is not at all what she expected.

"UIhhhhh. Is this..."

You nod.

"This thing is...?"

You once again nod.

It turns out you're a bit, y'know, over the average size... The average human size that is, you aren't competing with any anthros with their unfair endowments. You watch the look on Morgan's face. A simultaneous blend of being impressed and also concerned.

"Well." you say. "If you're distraught by what you've found. All I can say is. Blame my father."

"Was he-" she starts.

"He did not have any horse DNA in him, if that's what you were going to say."

You think. You don't actually have a good grasp of your family tree. But judging by the disgusting family mentality, you have to doubt it.

Your manhood gripped and likely throbbing in Morgan's hand, you watch her have a mental conversation with herself, before you see resolve cross her face. She drags your boxers down and takes a proper look at what you've got going on. Then takes it once again in her soft hand and begins working it slowly.

And it feels pretty good. No scratch that, it feels really good. Just the simple motion of her stroking you up and down is sending waves of pleasure through your body. You aren't sure if it's because she's also got a natural first time genius, or if you're just so out of tune with your own body that any light caressing is euphoric.

She mostly strokes the shaft, but the back of her palm and fingers will gently graze the head and almost double you over in pleasure. It hasn't been very long, but you're certain that you're on the cusp already. Especially judging by the mass of early arousal that's been spilling out of you like an overturned syrup bottle and onto Morgan's wrist and forearm.

"Morgan. I'm getting close." you inform her quickly.

She gives you a quick "okay", but you catch that small grin of excitement on her lips before she picks up speed just slightly. But even that slight increase is enough to send you over the edge. You hold your breath to silence yourself as you burst like a broken hydrant with years worth of untapped pleasure. It flows out of you in large quantities and coats Morgan's right side. All over her brand new church style dress.

How sinful.

You feel like your pleasure pours out of you for several minutes, and by the time it's done you also feel five pounds lighter. You look sluggishly up at Morgan and see the look of shock on her face, as she glances between you and the mess you just coated her with. You've probably got a look on your face that says your heart's about to stop right here and now.

"Sorry." you mutter. "Haven't y'know, dealt with this in about two years. I'm a bit, backed up."

"J-just a bit?" she gives a slight chuckle. However, she looks down, and noticing your failure to fade asks "Got more in you, huh?"

"Oh definitely. A lot more." you nod. "And I wanna give it all to you."

She flinches at your sudden directness. However, you don't give her a chance to respond in the moment, continuing with, "I love you Morgan. Wouldn't be where I am without you. I was broken and hollow. But you filled my heart up. So I feel it's about time I did the same with you."

"M-my heart is perfectly fine you know." she retorts.

"Oh. I uh, didn't quite mean your heart, but well."

She pauses for a moment to try and decipher your meaning. But she gets it.

"O-oh."

You sit up and position yourself over her. You lean in and plant a kiss on her lips, then pull back.

"However, never let it be said that I coerced you into moving too quickly. If you tell me you're not ready I will stop right here."

She thinks for just a few seconds, before she responds with "No."

You take that with understanding and begin to lean back. "Understood, I won't-"

But she reaches up and grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back in.

"No, I don't want to stop."

Oh. Well that's completely different.

"Are you sure?" you ask. Because this is the kind of decision that probably needs to be confirmed once, twice, three times.

She answers you with a kiss. Unbelievably passionate and intense, she licks your tongue with her own and gives you another of those needy whines to showcase her want. And well, you need no more convincing. You pull away and get to removing your clothes, you tear your shirt away in a hurry and give Morgan some help in taking off her dress. You look in admiration upon her nude form. She's pretty modest in most places, likely attributed to the lack of proper nutrition she received during her growing days. However, whatever fat she's been accumulating after having moved in with you is going straight to her lower half, rounding out her hips, and giving her thighs an attractive plumpness.

Once you're both sans clothing, you shift yourselves into the default lovemaking position. But once you're there, poised over her, you are once again drawn to your cursed blessing. This probably isn't going to be entirely pleasant for her.

"What's wrong?" she asks, likely noticing the difficult face you're making.

"I am now keenly aware, that I am not entirely built to be a first time lover." you answer.

She glances downward at your Lewieville Slugger and understands exactly what you're talking about. However there's no apprehension in her face, only determination.

"It'll be alright." she assures you. "Just take it slow."

"Well yeah, but maybe we should-"

"Listen. I know I may not be the biggest kind of dog, but you know even so we still love our big bones." she jokes, but with a seductiveness to her voice that you didn't expect.

However the nature of that joke causes you to laugh, try as you might to hold it back.

"Alright alright," you say, calming your laughing fit. "Let's just hope you aren't biting off more than you can chew here."

"No chance. You've seen my appetite, I've got this."

You've got no more reason to argue, permission has been granted, resolve is set. Besides. Being a canine as she is, probably means she's anatomically built to accept other types of canines. And most of those guys are also types that you will not be competing with, for certain reasons.

... That physiology class in highschool was awful.

Moving past that, you ignite your own resolve and lean forward to unite your lips again and restore the amorous mood. Once you can hold on no longer you rise and position yourself against her.

Take it slow, just like she said. You slide forward ever so gently and enter with a bit more ease than you expected. She gasps at your entry and you freeze in place to give her time to acclimate. You reach forward and grasp her hands. You pull them toward yourself and interlock your fingers together. And so begins the slow ritual of you pushing forward slightly and pausing. A bit forward, another pause.

Her face seems to lighten, so she seems to be getting used to it. However you aren't. You think you've finally found something you're bad at for the first time. Specifically, this entire time you've felt like you were on the edge of bursting. You've ben fighting the urge to let go since you began. What's the thing to do to calm yourself? Counting pi? Or was it fractions? Prime numbers?

"O-okay. I think I'm good." she says, pulling your attention back to her. "You can start moving, just, be gentle."

Oh of course you'll be gentle. Gentle is all you can manage right now. You slide back slowly and glide forward similarly. Fight as you might though, this is a losing fight and you know it. But your male pride refuses to allow things to end so quickly. You take deep breaths to steady yourself, but even that won't help for long. You look to Morgan and her expression has shifted to one of pleasure. So you're making progress. But progress is too slow. You're going to need something to help things along. Your eyes scan her body and you see her modest chest rising and falling with every shuddering breath she takes and sweet moan that escapes.

You release your hold on her hands and with your left reach up to grip at that protruding pink bud that she latched on to during her solo experience. She gasps in surprise and her body jumps. That was a double edged sword, because though you know that spot is sensitive, it also caused her to tighten around your already faltering flesh. But you've got one more trump card to use. Her emerald eyes open wide and gazing up at you, you have to avoid staring into them, lest you become enraptured in the moment and falter. You lean your body forward and bring the area of your neck and shoulder as close to her nose as you can without directly diving into her. She was gorging herself on your scent earlier, let's see how she likes it straight from the source.

It has the exact reaction you hoped for, she loops her arms around your neck and buries her nose in your neck. She takes deep inhales and exhales with those whines of hers. But you've got no other tricks, so you hope that's enough because you're closing in on your limit with no other-

But then you feel her legs wrap around your waist and force you farther into her. Seems those whines of hers were the request for more. But that's it. Once she takes you to the hilt of her own volition, the moan of purest rapture that she lets out and that heavy clench of finality shatters your resistance.

"M-Morgan. Can't hold back anymore." you whisper into her ear.

"Y-you're gonna-"

"Yup."

"Then do it." she says low, in what almost seems like a greedy growl. "D-do what you said you would, and fill me up."

And that's all you need. In the same way that her body gave in when you told her to do so, your body surrenders and unleashes another massive load toward the deepest point of her womanhood. Your voice leaks out of you in unchecked satisfaction and Morgan squeezes you tight with her arms, legs, and all of her body as you remain true to your word and fill her to the brim. Once your very soul has been forcefully ejected from your body, you collapse straight down over her, completely drained.

That was the best feeling ever, you understand why some people do nothing but try to hook up all the time now. You look at Morgan, eyes closed, a smile of content on her face. You also hear the gentle thump of her tail landing against your bed. So of course the only thing you can do is let your hand do what it always wants to do and reach up to pat the top of her head. The thumps come faster and heavier now. You raise yourself up to look at her.

"How uh? Are you feeling?" you ask.

She looks up to the ceiling, like she has to actually think about the answer, before she says "Yup. I'm full."

You chuckle. As long as she's okay to make jokes, you'll call this a success.

"How do you feel?" she asks back.

"I feel like, if we were to do this more often I would never want to throw another punch for as long as I lived."

"Well hold on. If I have to become the thing that keeps you from getting in fights, then I don't think I'd last very long."

You lean in and give her a kiss. Then gently part from your carnal union.

"But seriously." she says as she looks down at the mess you've made. "There really was a lot." Then a moment of clarity crosses her face. "What if I actually get pregnant?"

...

Well that is a possibility. A very rare one, but still possible. You finally know siblings who have proved that possibility.

"Well if that happens. Then I guess the next thing I buy you. Will be a ring."

"... Oh." is her response.

Oddly enough, for some reason she looks more embarrassed than when you caught her in the act earlier. As you lie back down and cuddle with Morgan for a while, you once again think.

Today really was a very fulfilling day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Notes:

A quick side note. The next chapter for Empty Heart won't actually be a direct continuation, but more of a side story. Might be fun, I hope you like crossovers.