FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The music was pumping. The heat was on. People out on the dance floor were grinding against one another. Paws groping. Lights flashing. The very heartbeat of the nightclub was beating with every bounce of the bass assaulting your senses and crawling under your skin.

And in the corner of a booth, sitting by himself, waiting for his friends to return with more drinks, sat Phillip.

Phillip was a beagle, his long, floppy, brown furred ears hanging low even as he had hidden the top half of his head under a sky blue beanie. He had big brown fur patches going down his back, shoulders and tail, overlapping a few caramel coloured fur patches on his arms, legs, around his eyes and a wee bit on his tummy. The rest of his fur coat was pristine white, as well as the very tip of his slim tail, which he had tucked in close to his body.

Some might say he was pretty cute, with his shy demeanor and the way he used his long floppy ears to hide behind and avoid eye contact.

In Phillip's opinion though, he felt as average as any guy. Maybe even less than average. With barely any muscle mass, but not thin either, there really wasn't anything special about him.

Which made him wonder how he had managed to befriend the most popular jock ever.

Bradley Miller. A big rottweiler stud with as much charisma as he had brawn.

A hunk among hunks, an absolute chad, a total bro.

In fact, he was such a bro that he had insisted on taking Phillip to a gay nightclub, despite not being gay himself.

"You'll be 20 tomorrow." He had said. "You can't be 20 and still be a virgin. You need some dick." And so Bradley had practically carried Phillip out of his dorm under his arm, not taking no for an answer. In no time the jock had gathered up a small group of friends from his inner circle and plopped the beagle in a booth in one of the more popular gay nightclubs in the area close to the campus.

Phillip just sat there, a little nervous, looking down at his hands clasped together in his lap.

"See, what did I tell you? Gay guys love buying me drinks. They really know how to treat a fella." Phillip looked up just in time to see Bradley return with a tray of drinks, flanked by his two buddies, a cheetah named Aaron and a coyote named Randy.

"That's because you keep leading them on. If I didn't know better I'd have thought we came here tonight just so you could get laid, and not Phil." Aaron said, rolling his eyes as the three of them filed into the booth, nestling Phillip in between Bradley and Randy.

"If you got it, flaunt it." Bradley shrugged, pushing an electric blue drink in front of Phillip. "Here you go bro, the bartender called this a tailraiser. I dunno if it will raise your tail or make other guys raise their tail, but whatever, right?" The rottweiler grinned and slapped Phillip on the back.

"T-Thanks." Phillip fidgeted in his seat as he pulled the drink towards him and took a sip through the straw.

It felt like drinking electricity, the moment the drink hit his tongue. It was sour and packed a bit of a punch with the amount of alcohol in it. And true to its name, Phillip felt his tail start to smack against the seat out of his control.

"Told ya he would love it." Bradley said, grinning and puffing his chest out.

"Pffh, yeah right. We all know you really wanted that drink after you heard the name." Randy reached for his own drink, playfully nudging Phillip with his elbow. "He's such a closet case, ain't he?"

Despite himself, Phillip felt a grin spreading on his muzzle as he kept sipping on his drink, as he kept looking between the three jocks while they kept talking and making jokes. It was a bit unbelievable that he'd be so lucky to have supportive friends like them when he was such an anti-social, anxious mess 95% of the time.

"So, have you seen any guys that's your type yet?" Bradley said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in closer to Phillip, and threw shifty looks at the crowds out on the dance floor.

"I... I don't know... There's a lot of people out there..." Phillip tugged a bit on one of his floppy ears, poking at it with a fingertip.

"Don't worry about it bro. No pressure. But if you do see someone your type, just let us know. We're your wingmen tonight.~" Bradley raised his beer, ready to make a toast.

"To Phil and all the dicks he's going to get tonight." Bradley announced, clinking his beer together with Randy and Aaron.

"To Phil." They said in unison, and all three jocks took a deep chug from their beer.

For a while the three jocks kept interrogating Phillip about what his type was, and 'helpfully' pointed out any guy they thought would rouse his interest.

Phillip appreciated their efforts, he really did. But even he wasn't sure what he really liked in a guy. He suppose a bigger guy is something he likes, and definitely a more assertive nature than his shy, timid self.

That's what he gets for being an incurable shut-in.

"You know... I might have an idea on how to get you some action. Without having to decide what the guy looks like. Call it a trial to fucking if you'd like." Bradley said suddenly, sounding wise as he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

Phillip turned to look at the jock, still sipping on his drink. The alcohol was really getting to him by now, his tail hadn't stopped wagging.

"If you go to the bathrooms." Bradley said, a little hushed, leaning in closer to the beagle. "And go to the two last stalls at the end, there is a little surprise that I think you would enjoy." Bradley nudged Phillip with an elbow, bouncing his eyebrows enticingly.

"Oh my god Brad just say there's a gloryhole in there and stop toying with him." Aaron said, throwing a peanut at the rottweiler.

"Hey! I got this, okay? I know my man Phil would like this." Bradley tossed the peanut back at the cheetah, but Aaron simply caught it in his mouth instead, smirking triumphantly.

"Figured you'd be the first to catch a nut in this place." Randy said, laughing when Aaron hissed at him, his hackles raised.

"What do you say, Phil?" Bradley said, turning his attention away from the two himbos as they started throwing curse words at one another.

Phillip's ears drooped even more, and he swirled what was left of his blue drink, watching it as it went around his glass.

"Listen, dude. Okay. There's two booths, right? If you go in the one at the one at the very end, you'd be expected to suck some dude. You ain't even have to look 'em in the eye. Just put their dong in your mouth and go to town. Or if you prefer to have your knob polished, just go in the one next to the last one. All you gotta do is unzip and stick that bone of yours through the hole, and the other guy will do the rest. Aight? No need to be social. Strictly business. And the business is good, my guy. Trust me." Bradley patted Phillip encouragingly on the shoulder, winking at him.

"Go and check it out, but don't force yourself, okay? I just want you to have a little bit of fun before your birthday tomorrow." Bradley petted the beagle atop his head, ruffling his blue beanie a little.

"Dude how do you even know about all that?" Randy said, reaching behind Phillip to tug at the rottweiler's small tail nub.

Which instantly made the rottie jump out of his seat and growl at the coyote.

"Nobody touches the tail, little 'yote!" Bradley smacked a clenched fist into the palm of his other hand, glaring daggers at the coyote who only laughed as he shuffled past Phillip and out of the booth.

"Want to dance, pup? The dance floor is right there." Randy said, holding out his hand and swinging his hips teasingly.

"Fuck you, let's go." Bradley flipped him off before grabbing Randy by the hand and pulling him out on the dance floor.

Aaron only chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

"Fucking idiots." He said, holding up his beer as if he was toasting his two friends from a distance. "You hate to love 'em." He threw back his beer and drank deeply, slamming the bottle down on the table after he finished.

The cheetah threw a glance at Phillip who had his hands clasped together again and was twiddling his thumbs, occasionally looking in the direction of the bathroom.

As if the thought of going there was painted clear as day all over his face, Aaron reached over and put his hand atop of Phillip's clasped hands.

"Hey dude, don't worry about it. Go, don't go. We're here for you. I'll hold down the fort for a while, so you just go and do whatever comes to mind in that brilliant head of yours." Aaron gave him a smile, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting.

Phillip looked around nervously. He could see Bradley and Randy dancing, two feet apart because no homo. Looking over at Aaron he saw how relaxed the cheetah was about this entire situation. Their eyes met briefly and he smiled again and gave him a wink, before turning his attention back to his phone.

Gulping, Phillip shuffled out of the booth and shimmied around the walls, like a skittish animal avoiding a predator.

He made it to the bathroom door. One last look around him, and after making sure nobody was looking at him, he opened it and went inside.

Luckily, the bathroom appeared empty. The dull sounds of the music pumping was a bit dampened in here, and it was easier to think now.

Slowly he made his way past the urinals and the first booths. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror wall hanging above the sinks. A pair of hazel eyes looked back at a figure dressed in a plain blue t-shirt and shorts, his beanie atop his head and his floppy ears hanging low. He was a bit hunched, so he straightened up. Standing a confident 170cm tall, or five foot seven inches. He really was as average as they come. Sighing a little, his shoulders drooped, a little dispirited from seeing his reflection.

Phillip came to a stop by the end of the stalls, looking between the two last ones. And it occurred to him that he forgot which booth was which. He didn't particularly have any preference whether he was on the giving end or receiving end, as far as he was concerned. Being the virgin that he is, he was wholly unprepared for this.

Taking a deep breath was a bit of a mistake in hindsight. This was a bathroom after all, and the smells were far less than desirable. Still, Phillip steeled himself and entered the second to last stall.

He'd just closed and locked the stall door when he heard the bathroom door open and the quiet of the bathroom was assaulted by the sounds of the club. But it slowly deafened again when the door closed.

The only sounds he could hear was a pair of heavy footfalls that walked down the length of the stalls. The same path he had taken.

Sweat broke out at the back of his neck, and he twiddled with his floppy ear nervously as the steps came closer and closer. Suddenly they stopped, right outside his stall.

Too scared to make a sound, Phillip had to force himself not to make a pitiful whine out of pure nerve.

But a second later, the steps could be heard again and he saw a shadow loom against the last stall, the one he could see through the glory hole in the wall between their stalls. His eyes were glued to the spot as the other person opened the last stall, stepped inside, locked the door behind him, and approached the back of the stall. He could see a pair of black shoes briefly, with white laces, before they vanished and he saw jeans, then a red shirt, and finally there was silence again.

Phillip was frozen in place, staring at the hole like an arm might come through it and grab him. But what he saw instead was two fingers, a light brown colour to the fur, but big. The person on the other side didn't say anything, but his fingers seemed to command him to step forward and give him his due.

For the second time that evening, Phillp gulped. Swallowing his nerves.

He unzipped, and pulled his red canine shaft from inside his boxer shorts. Until now it had been resting undisturbed inside his sheath, but seeing those fingers call to him, he was rapidly growing harder by the second.

Stroking himself a little to bring himself to full mast, a nice seven inch long canine rod. Stepping up to the hole, he poked the pointed tip towards it and slowly began feeding his length inside to the other side, until he was pushed up against the wall. His whole erection on the other side, throbbing in the air.

For a few seconds he was worried that he was doing it wrong, but then he gasped, loudly, as a strong hand wrapped its fingers around his shaft and stroked him up and down, from the base of his knot all the way up to his sensitive tip.

To stop himself from gasping again when he felt hot breath spilling over the length of his cock, Phillip threw a hand to his muzzle to prevent any more sound to escape him.

Then he felt a slightly coarse tongue lick his tip, which immediately made him spurt several ropes of pre-cum.

Blushing fiercely, Phillip did his utmost to not blow his load right then and there as the skillful hand around his cock squeezed around his base and the tongue lapped at his tip, as if the guy on the other side was milking him of pre-cum simply to lap it up.

A muffled whine escaped into the paw clenched around his maw, and he inadvertently attempted to thrust against the wall, to get more of that feeling.

He heard the other guy grunt, it was a deep grunt, commanding, but also, amused? The hot breath was back, and even Phillip, the mega virgin, could tell that the other guy's maw was just a fraction of an inch away from enveloping his cock by now.

Slowly, painfully slow, a pair of lips closed around his tip, and he moaned into his hand, clenching his eyes shut. The lips suckled briefly on his tip, drinking up more of his pre-cum, before they slowly made their way down his shaft. Inch, after inch. Slowly. Methodically.

A warm, wet, maw engulfed his cock.

He was clenching every muscle he had to push against the glory hole and feed the guy on the other side as much of his cock as he possibly could. He wanted him to take it all, down to the knot. Maybe even that as well.

But in the end, it was the guy on the other side that set the pace. Slowly, he bobbed his maw down upon his cock. His tongue rolled and wrapped itself around his shaft, almost stroking it.

Even Phillip, the inexperienced virgin, could tell that this guy was a pro at sucking dick.

It didn't take long for him to reach the base of his dick, his lips pushing against his knot. Although for Phillip it felt like an eternity before he finally had his cock fully enveloped by that hungry maw.

A small whine threatened to escape as the guy pulled away, leaving a fresh coat of saliva around his shaft. The skillful tongue found its way to his tip again and it teased, played with that tapered canine cockhead and made Phillip shoot several more ropes of sticky pre-cum directly into the other guy's maw.

By the gods, this guy wasn't just pleasing him. He was toying with him, using him for his own pleasure.

And Phillip loved it.

He wanted to moan when the maw went back down on his cock, devouring it all, and sucked with such force that he felt he might topple over the wall that separated them.

Then he let go, pulled back, tongue lapping at the underside of his cock to coax more pre-cum to unload into his hungry maw.

A steady pace was set, in which the guy bobbed his head up and down Phillip's cock. The whole length disappeared into that warm, tight maw, which suckled and toyed with him.

Once or twice he stuck his tongue out to lap at his knot, which by now had almost fully formed.

A brief worry crossed his mind about being tied to the stall wall and unable to pull back through the hole. But that worry quickly vanished as the maw devoured his cock again, catching him by surprise.

It was simply too much. The pleasure, the demanding movements, the control of his maw and his tongue.

Phillip was sure that he should have blown his load the very second that maw engulfed his cock the first time, but somehow he had been able to hold back. Or the guy on the other side had prevented him from orgasming somehow.

At this point he didn't care. All he wanted was to cum into that hungry maw and feed him his load.

He banged a clenched up fist against the wall, not caring if anyone else heard them. He hadn't heard anyone enter during this whole experience. And he was too swallowed by lust and desire to care either way.

The guy on the other side grunted again, and somehow, by some miracle, he felt the rising force of his orgasm in his balls. His sack tightened, and he rolled his hips against the wall, trying desperately to knot with whomever was on the other side.

He failed, of course, but his orgasm erupted like a volcano nonetheless. His cum shot forward in several long jets that was immediately swallowed by the guy on the other side. Rope after rope. Phillip had never cummed this hard in his entire life.

His legs shook, exerted way past what his measly muscles could withstand. Having been standing pushed up against the wall for what felt like an eternity, and then his orgasm ravaged his body. It took every last ounce of effort to not collapse once he came down from the rush of ecstasy.

Failing to realize, of course, that he wasn't dismissed until the guy on the other side let him go first. That maw held him firmly in place as he polished off his cock.

At long last, the maw was pulling back, with one last lick of his tip to catch that very last spurt of cum, and he was free.

Phillip stumbled backwards and sat flat on his ass on the toilet, panting heavily and gazing at the hole.

He wanted to know who the guy was, wanted to meet him, to thank him for that amazing blowjob, to fuck his brains out.

Wait, no, not that last one. Well kind of yes, but at least he wanted to get to know the guy first.

Phillip remained sitting on the toilet for a short while, regaining his energy to stand on his own two feet again.

His cock had slowly been shrinking back into his sheath, and he felt hot around his groin when he saw the guy's saliva coating his cock as it sank back into his sheath.

He didn't hear much from the guy on the other side, but save for a few deep breaths and a grunt when he got up on his feet again.

Slowly, he stood up on shaking legs, zipped his fly back up, and stumbled a little as he walked to the stall door.

Once he was out of the stall, he threw a glance at the stall at the end and saw that it was still occupied. Whoever the guy was, he was still in there.

Phillip stared at the locked door for a moment, wishing it would open.

When it didn't, he turned to the sinks instead and just for the sake of it, stuck his hands under the soap dispenser and started washing his hands.

Always good to be sanitary.

Plus it allowed him to calm down a little, and come to terms with the fact that he just had his very first blowjob. In the bathroom at a gay club, in a glory hole no less.

These are the kind of scenarios he's read about on the internet, in all those smut stories. He never imagined that he of all people would ever experience that. Let alone have his dick so expertly worked over by such a talented guy.

Deep in his thoughts, he jolted away when he saw the stall door unlock in the reflection.

A blush spread over his face and he turned his attention to washing his hands again, pure focus on his hands. Not even sparing a glance as the other guy stepped out of the stall, paused, and stood still behind him.

The blush spread to his floppy ears, and he lowered his face more to hide behind them.

Part of him screamed at him to look up, turn around and face him. Anything.

But another part of him yelled at him to keep his head down, to avoid confrontation.

Therefore, he was a bit shocked when the other guy stomped up and took his place by the sink next to him.

Phillip couldn't stop himself.

He turned his head and looked.

There stood a rottweiler. For the fraction of a heartbeat, Phillip thought it was Bradley.

But that moment passed quickly as he realised the rottweiler was older than Bradley, and bigger. He looked strong, muscular, but also got a bit of a gut and thick arms.

He wore a plain red polo shirt and jeans held up by a belt. What fur Phillip could see reminded him of Bradley. Black fur around the head and ears, but a light brown fur on his muzzle and down his throat, disappearing down his polo shirt. His tail was docked, a black and brown little nub which almost brought a whine of desire out of the beagle. He could see his fingers and hands too had that light brown colour, and Phillip blushed when he imagined those strong fingers wrapping around his cock just a few minutes ago.

Slowly his eyes turned upwards, and he saw the big rottweiler's face in profile. His ears were big and floppy too, but not as long as Phillip's ears. His eyes were a deep brown colour, which also reminded him of Bradley. And they were looking steadily at his hands as he washed them in the sink.

He was handsome, older, sure, but Phillip didn't care. Although he did look a bit intimidating up close. The rottweiler had a stern air around him, no funny business aura.

Suddenly, their eyes met when the rottweiler turned his head and looked at him.

Phillip felt his ears droop lower than they had ever drooped before, but he was unable to look away from the rottweiler's eyes. They commanded that he keep looking at him without uttering a word.

"Towel." The rottweiler said in a deep voice, holding out a wet hand.

Phillip didn't even have to ask what he meant, but immediately pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them over to the bigger, older man.

He did the same to his own hands after he finished watching, warily watching the other man finish drying his hands.

Once they both finished, Phillip inadvertently turned to face the rottweiler again. His shoulders sagged a little as he looked up at the man.

It was impossible to tell what the rottweiler was feeling as he looked back at him, scrutinizing him with a calculating look.

Phillip flinched when the rottweiler raised a hand, and closed his eyes.

But then he felt a pair of strong, but gentle fingers scratch him behind the ear.

Without thinking about it, he leaned into the scratching and opened his eyes again, looking up at the man.

He was smiling now. A most handsome smile on a handsome face. It melted Phillips' heart.

"Good pup." He said in that same deep tone, but there was also warmth in that voice. Soothing to the soul.

Phillip felt saddened when the fingers pulled away from scratching him. He watched the rottweiler reach into his back pocket and fish out a card.

He handed it over to Phillip, who took it and looked down at it.

It was a business card, to a construction firm.

"Call me." Said the rottweiler, and pointed to a name at the bottom left of the business card.

As Phillip read the name Bruce Miller, a deep worry settled over him that he just now might have been hitting on Bradley's dad without knowing it.

Looking up, he saw that the rottweiler had already left.

Scrambling to put the business card away, he dashed out of the bathroom. He looked left and right, but couldn't see the guy anywhere.

How could someone that big disappear that quickly?

Phillip navigated the crowd with a lot more guile than he usually had, nervously looking around the crowds. He didn't know what he was going to say once he found Bruce again, if he found him. Did he come just right out and ask him if he was his friend's dad? What was the end goal of finding out?

Would Bradely stop hanging out with him if he found out? Bradley, who was the main reason he had any friends at all at the university.

Once he felt like he had scanned the crowd three times without any luck, he sulked and timidly made his way back to the booth he and his friends had been at earlier.

Relief and worry washed over him at the same time as he saw them huddled in the booth.

Aaron, Randy, and Bradley.

Phillip stopped in his tracks, feeling sweat break out at the back of his neck again. He remained in place, watching the three jocks talking in hushed voices with one another, until finally Aaron spotted him and waved at him.

At which point it was useless to just stand around, and he slowly approached their table with his tail tucked between his legs.

"Hey bro! How'd it go? You were in there for like half an hour, maybe even more!" Bradley said loudly, beaming at him with a grin that could put foxes to shame.

"You okay buddy?" Said Aaron, peering at him curiously as Phillip slid into the booth and put his clasped hands into his lap, just like before.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." Phillip smiled, or tried to. His eyes kept daring over to Bradley, who only smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Betcha you're more than fine by now. Graduated from being a complete virgin, ey? We need more drinks!" Bradley was half-way out of his seat when Randy jumped up instead.

"I'll go, I gotta hit the john myself, and not in the way Phil just did." The coyote winked very obviously at him, turned, and walked away.

"My man." Said Bradley proudly, clapping him on the back again.

"S-so... w-what have you guys been talking about?" Phillip said, attempting to strike up a conversation to avoid giving details about his sexual adventure.

"Well, Randy was bellyaching about his old lady getting on his case to clean his room more often." Bradley said, nodding wisely as if he was an old man.

"As he well should. Fucking slob he is." Said Aaron, also nodding wisely.

"But he's nothing compared to the rigid old fossil I call pops. I'm surprised any woman was able to love him biblically enough to produce me." Bradley huffed. "Do this, do that, clean your room, pick up your laundry, did you do your homework? Yap yap." Bradley did a mouthing motion with his hand.

"I ain't saying yer daddy has a point, but, he has a point. As much as a slob that Randy is, you are a very irresponsible child. I'm amazed he even let you go out tonight." Aaron regaled his friend, giving him a sympathizing look that was almost believable.

Bradley huffed again.

"He almost didn't let me, but only relented when I said it wasn't even for my sake, but for my buddy Phil here! Rigid old fart wouldn't know a good time if it came and fucked him in the face." Bradley snorted, which made Aaron chuckle, and Phillip twiddle his thumbs a little faster. His heartbeat increased.

"I-..." Said Phillip, making both Bradley and Aaron look at him. "I've never met your dad. W-What does he do?" He asked, innocently, he hoped. Glancing sideways at Bradley, he watched the rottie jock ponder for a second, brow furrowed.

"I think plumbing?" He said, sounding unsure.

Phillip exhaled, feeling the tense feeling in his shoulders relax for a bit.

"No, wait. He was laying out the plumbing for this new building at his construction firm." Bradley said, nodding.

Phillip froze.

The business card in his pocket was burning against his leg now.

"You ok buddy?" Said Bradley, laying a hand concernedly on his shoulder, which tensed up immediately again.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. J-Just... you know." Phillip tried to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders.

"Aight dude." Bradley gave his shoulder a squeeze before he let go, and turned to Aaron to listen to the cheetah lay into his woes about his parents.

Dear lord, Phillip. What have you gotten yourself into?