FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

At first Lucy couldn't believe that it had actually happened. When the dog had first strode into the convenience store, his sizeable figure more than enough to trip the motion sensors for the door, she had thought that he was just some other stray from the fields back behind the station. Sure enough, though, he had walked purposefully about the aisles, nipped a pack of jerky from one of the shelves, and then stood on his hindlegs with his forepaws resting on the counter for balance, watching the clerk with decidedly attentive, intelligent eyes.

It was a wonder watching his lips, his tongue, his mouth shift and move to form words. The lines of muscle throughout his chest and belly pulsed and tightened with the effort, and what came out sounded as clean and natural as any other customer.

“We, uh, don't get many customers of your… type here," she had said, foolishly. Then a flash of regret upon realizing how that sounded, a flood of embarrassment, a quick move to defend herself – but the dog tossed his head and scoffed.

“Well," he'd answered, his broad, flat tongue flawlessly forming the syllables between sharp yellowed fangs, “that's alright, since would you believe I left my wallet in my other pants? Is there… another way I can pay? This and the tank. On four."

_ _

So shocked was she already that Lucy didn't even consider that he meant to say he had driven here. Left on her own here at the station over the nightshift, she often had to resort to some wild techniques to keep herself awake during her shifts, and throughout all of her daydreaming “dog driving a car" had never once come up. The strays that often frequented the area tended to impact her thoughts, though, and many times the human had found herself with her head resting on one hand while she looked out the window, watching a small pack of them go and by.

Sleeker, smaller than house dogs, a bit more unkempt and ragged but doubtless more muscular, better built… and one and again fully intact. It made her ashamed to think about, but so often at night there was nobody else to judge her for looking, and it really was the most obvious part of the dog. Seeing them jounce on by, hefty heavy orbs jostling and jiggling back and forth between their hind legs.

At first it had begun as just a curiosity, a fascination. But then those had poked their way into her idle thoughts as well, and Lucy had started thinking: what if my customers were dogs instead of people? What if they came on in here, and looked at me, and I looked at them, and…

And then it had actually happened, and she'd found herself speechless. She had leaned forward over the counter to look him up and down: the smooth, chiseled figure, the oiled velvet pelt, the sections of smooth skin in between his fur, like sleek soft leather. Sharp claws, sharper fangs; soft fur, smooth skin… a thick, heavy sheath hanging down between his legs with his full sack underneath, shifting gently with his breathing.

So Lucy had wondered if anyone else here at the station would have taken him up on his offer, or if he would have even offered it. And then, naturally, she accepted it. Her heart had pounded in her chest as she'd led him around back towards the maintenance closet, in which there was barely enough room for the two of them: she had struggled to strip her jeans off, then got fed up and just tugged her panties to the side. It was something she had admittedly thought about before, but never expected would actually happen –

-and now, some minutes later, she had knocked her head against an empty paint bucket up on the shelf some five times from the sheer rippling sensation of the canine's tongue flopping and slurping between her legs, this strange visitor showing her just what he could do. Her legs flex and kicked, and already she couldn't tell whether it was his drool or her own arousal that trickled down her thighs and plopped gently into a puddle underneath. She could smell his breath from here, that distinct, inimitable bite of feral dog, picked up so many times when sitting for her friends.

“Ah-“ She gasped and kicked again, unable to keep herself from grinding down against his mouth, his muzzle. Again and again he slurped away at her, surprisingly dexterous tongue slipping between sensitive lips and over smooth, soft folds of flesh, much sharper, somehow much more intense than what she had gotten from her two-legged partners. Nervousness still thrummed in the back of her mind, though, and she had to force her eyes open and look down at him or else Lucy knew she would lose herself in a hundred different scenarios.

Then the dog drew back, lapped messily at his chops, met her gaze again, and then moved forward. And all of those possibilities crystallized down into one: he found a foothold on top of her, swung his hips forward, then again, and again, each time missing. Lucy shivered and grinned under the sensation of rich, hot hard meat slipping along her bared groin and thighs, leaving greasy streaks where his hard shaft pressed against her. Each time the dog thrust forward he emptied out a loose jet of juicy pre across her bare skin. It almost burned where it touched, steaming there in the cool air of the closet; Lucy reached down, ran her thumb through one of the streaks, sniffed at it, slipped it into her mouth… and then shuddered all over when he finally found his mark.

And then, in some seven more minutes that felt at once like much longer and much shorter, the two stumbled back out of the small space, the dog still with a good six and half inches of throbbing, veined red flesh twitching between his hind legs, hanging down nearly to the floor while he still squirted out a trail of sticky wetness over the tile, and Lucy feeling considerably fuller. A certain tingle vibrated between her legs as well, as though she could still feel the intense heat of his passion, the relentless, vicious energy and the sheer size and volume pumping up into her… she reached up, swiped her hair out of her face, and paused as she detected his scent strongly on her fingers there.

On shaky legs the clerk made her way back to the register and tapped everything in to clear his balance. “Okay," she managed, a little breathless, “you're good to go. Ah – will I see you again?"

“I make this route regularly," the dog answered, once more hopping up to swipe his things off the counter. Lucy had the brief thought of seeing him from the side there, sleek body stretched out, heavy canine shaft resting against the front of the glass and leaving a thick, foggy smear where it touched. “So, yes, that can be arranged. Name's Buck, by the way."

“Lucy. Uh-"

Already dismounted, the dog swung his head around to look at her again, ears perked. The clerk wet her lips – she could taste him there too – and swallowed.

“Make sure…" A sweet shiver ran through her body. “Make sure to forget your wallet next time, too, yeah?"