FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tybalt gazes longingly down at Michlah, the knight's lips parting as audible breaths exhale, inhaling a sustained rhythm of focus and delight. This delight, of course, comes from all of the attention lavished upon him by the smaller male and his delightful lips smacking at the tip of the paladin's impressive member.

Tybalt pats Michlah on the head, scratching behind his ear and reaching down under his chin to apply even more affectionate rubs.

Michlah instantly ceases his fellating to take in the wonderful feeling of affection that stems from such gentle actions. Something deep within him—primal and needy—flares to life at the intimate touches. None of them were anywhere near as lewd as what he was doing with his mouth, but they were even more loving than anything he had felt in a long, long time.

One could fall hopelessly in love with the tall, slender, and toned male sitting on the edge of the bed, and perhaps, he fears, that is the case with him as well.

“Hold on a moment," Tybalt says, scooting back on the bed.

Michlah whimpers, longing once again to be touched as he was. He grabs the edge of the mattress, his eyes peering over the top, his hips wiggling, licking his lips, savoring the remembered taste of the divine meat.

Tybalt scoots back against the headboard, patting the space between spread legs. In such a position, that holy cock of his stands high like a tower to delight, glistening slightly at the tip from the subtle kisses given to it only moments before. “Please, join me up here. I would rather you not hurt your knees."

“My… my knees are fine!" Michlah says, but the younger of the two males hops up to the mattress, crawling toward Tybalt.

“I'd imagine they are," Tybalt admits, running fingers through his hair while others swirl over his chest, focusing upon his stiffening nipple. “Your affliction grants you enhanced durability, which should prove useful in long travels and rough lovemaking sessions."

Michlah's blush burns at the suggestion, his hands placed upon Tybalt's knees. He leans in, though, a smile creeping upon his lips as he lifts his hips and lowers his back, his shoulder blades touching each other as he scoots in, sliding fingers up along Tybalt's thighs.

“You may wish to be a bit more comfortable," the knight says, “If you want to get so close."

Michlah pauses, his hands so close to the paladin's hips and groin, but he realizes the wisdom of those words. He sits up, gripping the outfit, peeling it off, revealing before the knight his smooth and unblemished form before the knight.

Michlah is a silver-haired youth wearing glasses. His shoulders are narrow, and his hips wide. There's a softness to his body, perhaps supernaturally. Yet, the fine silver hairs over his form give shimmering delight.

“I know it's not as impressive as yours," Michlah says, “but you would indulge a man to feel like he is worth admiring?"

“But you are," Tybalt says. “If you wish to partake in the cosmetic treatments we have available here at the temple, I can arrange it. Not many, especially travelers, can afford the time and effort needed to maintain themselves as we do. What's important, though, is that you adore yourself."

Michlah notes the subtle quickening in the paladin's breath, a smirk rising across his face as he returns to the initial position, his butt high in the air, his shoulders primed back, his fingers tracing up along Tybalt's thigh, his chest running along the cool sheets of the mattress. There's something natural in this position—something that feels just right.

His lips are so close to the paladin's orbs. His hot breath teases at them, causing a twitch in the pole. He giggles, raising his head, placing phantom kisses and gentle breaths over the length before hovering atop the tip.

He hesitates a moment, his breath brushing over the paladin's head, causing the thing to twitch again. Yet Tybalt sits back against the headboard, only the slightest blushes brushing his cheeks.

“Are… are you sure this is safe… for you?"

Tybalt nods, his hands resting now upon his stomach. “I thank you for your concern, but you are not the first lycanthrope I've had the honor of being with."

Michlah goes crimson at that, his hands squeezing the paladin's thighs. “I suppose experience counts in this field of work," he admits, but still… 'lycanthrope…' just hearing it. It…" he growls, gritting his teeth. “I just can't believe it. My whole life is so different, and why? Because of some stupid mistake. And even so, I haven't even gone through the worst of it, I'm sure!"

He squeezes Tybalt's thighs. I could hurt people. I could succumb to anger and destructive tendencies. I could be thrown out of civilization and forced to live as a monster in the wilderness.

Tybalt pats Michlah, rubbing his head. “Don't worry. Different doesn't have to be terrible," He says, bending his knee, rubbing his shin against the young man's cheek. “You can be safe and spread your love even with your affliction. You must take more care than you used to, but it is care that everyone should have in their intimate relations. In time, you will learn to fully control yourself if you cannot find a cure."

Michlah breathes deeply through his nose and exhales through his mouth. I don't care if I can cure myself and live the rest of my life as a monster.

His hands slip upward, wrapping around the shaft, and his lips press down, kissing the tip and pulling back with a resounding and loud smack!