FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tik Tik is always a kobold to try different things, taking herself to new avenues of delight, particularly in giving her partners pleasure when her partners are such exciting and unique individuals.

Give the coachman, for example. He is professional, caring for his passengers and getting them to their destinations. He is also quick to strip down and show off the hard work of maintaining his body. Tik Tik does have to wonder, though, how much of his chiseled form is an active work or how much of it represents him in a previous stage of life.

How much will Tik Tik have to make sure to leave behind a pretty corpse when the time finally comes for her to disappear to make it to life's big adventure?

Tik Tik shakes her head, pressing her snout to his chiseled abdominals to bury the bad thoughts. Of course, there's something new and big and impressive thing to focus on than the ever-present looming of eternity.

What looms instead of the Coachman's rock-hard cock, as ivory as the rest of him but throbbing with the peculiar need for life. Its girth and head are the perfect balance of thickness and flaring that makes the human member so unique among the males of this world.

The kobold's scaled fingers wrap around the impressive thing, one hand up higher than the other. Gripping it in two hands is the most appropriate scenario, thanks to their size difference. Even with those soft-scaled things holding tightly to the shaft, there is still more poking up before the head juts out.

"Oooh, you flexing it?" Tik Tik asks. "You naughty boy," she chuckles, pressing the bottom of her palms against the flesh, stroking upward. When a hand gets to the tip, she squeezes slightly, then moves the hand back down to the base to grasp it again, sliding infinitely upwards as the carriage continues along its long ride through the night.

The kobold forgets all about the travels she and her friends were on. Instead, it focuses entirely on this magnificent figure before her and his silent, almost stoic approach. She would have to rely on every shudder of muscle and every twitch of his dick. She would have to note the slumping of his shoulders and the tensing of his legs and hips. So much expression of desire and delight comes from the head, whether in the focus of the eyes, the flaring of the nostrils, or the delightful shape of the lips. Not even harmonious sounds can escape from the non-existent throat of the headless Coachman. So Tik Tik continues, playing with him almost as if he were a toy made for the specific purpose of delight.

She holds onto the base, squeezing, stroking slowly up and down it, while her other hand rests a palm upon the head, rolling over the sensitive flesh. The texture of the scale of the soft and flared thing is crowned with a bit of a dollop of precum that she smears over the tip.

When she pulls her palm back, a small strand from his hole to her hand breaks, drizzling down over his cock. Tik Tik lifts her palm to her mouth, rolling out her tongue, pressing her muscle to her scales, and slowly tasting the secretion.

Shuddering, the kobold sighs. "Ah, so strange. So wonderful!" she coos. "Many wonderful things here, Tik Tik think. It taste different, but familiar. Will make baby with other ghosts?"

The driver is silent on this reaction, urging his horses forward.

"No response?" The kobold says, a soft growl rising from her chest. "We see about that!" she presses herself against his seat, her face in front of that cock. She opens her maw, salivating at the thought of wrapping her mouth around that pole but holding herself back enough to enjoy taking it slowly.

Her tongue slips out around her front teeth. It flops straight to the apex of that cock, the tip tasting the pearling pre, licking at the flesh around there simply by letting the rocking of the cart take her tongue in different directions.

His cock shudders, twitches, and oozes more of that stuff.

"Hehe... so pent up," she muses, pressing the tip against that hole, swirling around the edge of it, watching him, seeing if he'd do anything if she pushed her pointed tongue right inside.

His body tenses up, and his hands grip harder on the reins. These alone could mean oh-so-many things, from the utter delight of the new sensation she's giving him to the contempt and hatred for such a disastrous thing. But one thing adds to the tell that makes her sure of her situation. That's when his hips tighten, his boots plant on the floor, and he pushes upward, shifting her tongue aside, making his cock kiss her mouth.

Yes, that enthusiastic shoving--that's precisely what she was looking for from him. It's enough for her to squeeze the base and lean her head in, engulfing it in her maw's warm and moist breathiness.

The driver leans back, draping one arm between her horns, his reins urging his horses along. He pulls once but tugs again. Then he stomps and cracks the whip.

The lead horse leaps in surprise, whinnying with such volume as to perk the kobold's head up from her pre-fellatio action. She stares at it, and it at her, its golden eyes bright and wide, and filled with annoyance before it turns back and follows its master's command.