FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

My thanks to Bobbles, for his editing skill.

You gently slid out from under Abby, moving slowly to avoid rousing her. The Absol slept hard during the day like all Dark types, so fortunately it was an easy task. Changing out of your sweat-stained pajama shorts and t-shirt into loose pants and another t-shirt was a simple task, interrupted only by the need to scrub dried Abby off your knee-- it had hardened during the half hour you’d cuddled her to sleep.

You slip out of the room, but pause at the door to look back at the Absol. She's snoring lightly, rolled on her side. Her face is relaxed and rather peaceful. She's gotten a little chubby from your cooking and having a job that is 95% sitting in one spot, but it only adds to the adorable fluffiness that is Abby. Your heart warms a little bit even as it sinks and fear trickles liquid tension into your veins. You've been very happy with your constant companion and friend. You worked with Abby, partied with Abby, lived with Abby. And now you've slept with her.

Fuck.

That hits like a body blow. There's a list of names that comes to mind of people whom you could describe similarly, lovers that you once loved and then lost. Most of the losses were your fault. There's a reason it's just you and Abby here, and the thought of it becoming just you after you destroy yet another relationship makes you want to vomit.

That pleasant train of thought carries you out to your small living room. The apartment the two of you live in is cramped, but still homey. You’ve got a kitchen that’s a corner of the living room just big enough to squeeze in a range, some counters, and a few cabinets. There’s enough space next to the kitchen to squeeze in a small table that’s barely enough to accommodate you and Abby, and the rest of the room is taken up with a couch, a TV, and Abby’s admittedly impressive collection of books. You trace Abby’s evolution in reading tastes: starting at the bottom with simple green-bound school books to learn to read, a sudden evolution to black as she reverted to type and began to devour horror novels, and more recently, a sudden sprinkling of brighter colors as she supplanted the genre fiction with fluffy romance novels near the top.

You have to smile at the memory of Abby generating a messy book pile over the course of a few weeks until you’d finally snapped and bought the first bookshelf. You’d slapped it together with a great deal of trial and even more error (note: Absol horns are NOT carpentry tools). And then she’d promptly filled it up. So you bought another bookshelf. It quickly became apparent that the Pokemon who made more money than you was going to outstrip your ability to contain her bibliophilia, but until you ran out of wall space you were going to try your damnedest.

The fruit of that final thought is bitter. You're just some foreman in a shop. Abby is an occupational safety advisor, one of the first Absols to hold that position. Her horn lets her sniff out danger before it becomes real. She’s written books about the usage of her abilities to keep workers safe and to save companies money. And yet, because she's a Pokemon, it's all yours. You gave her a bank account that was "hers" because you felt dirty, being the legal owner of the pile of money that was rightfully hers. But her career is built on that little piece of paper that makes everything she’s earned, everything she has, yours, because the name "Samuel Wills" happens to sit on the dotted line marked "Trainer." It's been something you've tried to avoid thinking about for a long time, but the thought and its implications loom large in your future, now too real to ignore.

You shuffle into the kitchen and start pulling out ingredients, trying to focus on anything other than the little voice in the back of your head screaming about how badly you've fucked up. Abby usually ate a mixed diet of Pokemon chow and some human foods. The last time you let her eat what you ate had led to the October Biohazard Incident and since then you’d kept a careful eye on what you gave her—but a tasty brunch wouldn’t hurt.

As you reach for the cinnamon, your hand freezes on the shelf at the sight of the loaf of thick bread sitting on it. The memory comes unbidden, almost as clear as day...

---

You’d snuck out of your bedroom that Saturday morning, mindful of the cute Absol snoozing on the Pokebed next to the couch. She’d been distant the day you brought her home, but the shelter folks had assured you that she’d warm up to you over the next few days.

A search of the cupboards, unsurprisingly, turned up no cereal and you’d fed the Absol the Pokechow she came with already. But what you did have was decent cooking skills and raw ingredients, and Kalosian Toast was easy enough for any fool to put together.

You remember pulling two pieces of golden toast out of the frying pan and starting to turn to the left to plate them, only for a fluffy white Pokemon to lean against you, staring at the fragrant breakfast food on the spatula in your hand. “Ab absol?” She’d asked, and knowing her now you know that she was asking if it was for her.

Your first good memory of Abby is sitting on the floor next to her with a plate of Kalosian toast on your lap, listening to her rumbling purr build with each piece of toast you hand-feed her, and feeling the two of you bond over a shared meal and companionship.

---

The sizzle of bacon and Kalosian toast brings you back from reminiscing as you stack food on two plates. You pour a cup of black coffee for you (like drinking Muk shit straight is how Abby describes it and she judges the hell out of you for it) and a bowl of Pecha juice for her. The cutting board serves as a makeshift tray and you slide back into the bedroom with food in hand, setting it on the nightstand next to Abby’s nose with held breath. You dash into the bathroom to retrieve something you’ll need and return to the bedroom as her nose starts to wiggle and her head slowly lifts off the bed.

Half-open eyes regard you, then the food, and she yawns wide. It’s a sight that you’ve seen a thousand times. Abby looks no different than usual to a casual glance.

What is different is that you aren’t usually frozen like this, caught staring at her. While she doesn’t care about her nudity and neither do you normally, it’s very different for you to see her rear in passing during a normal day as compared to the swollen, twitching cunny in full view right now. It's also different that an hour ago you played it like a piano to the accompaniment of her begging screams.

She looks at you, feeling the stare.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

The accursed words fly free of your lips before you can stop them. Abby blinks. Blinks again. Colors slightly. “W-what did you call me?” She stammers.

“Uhm...” You search your mind frantically for an answer, cursing internally at how quickly you'd started fucking up again, but eventually you realize that only the truth will do.

“Beautiful,” you say at last, yielding to the inevitable and feeling yourself calm a little bit. “Because it’s true.”

She stares at you and you see her swallow heavily, coming to full wakefulness.

“Oh.” She says at last, bashfully, rolling onto her stomach. You walk over to the bed and sit between her and the nightstand, and she looks up at you. “Not just a wonderful dream, then?” She says quietly. Her tail twitches.

You answer her by leaning close and she tilts her head, her mouth meeting yours. The kiss is brief, but firm, and Abby parts from you only reluctantly. Then she scoots up and puts both forelegs around you to hold you tight, a slight shiver passing over her frame.

“That was... really good, Sam,” she says quietly.

“It was for me, too,” you say. You nudge her before things get too sappy and you start dwelling on the bubbly feelings you can barely name, let alone understand, right now. “Look, you need to get up and pee. All ladies gotta after they have sex. And you need cleaned off downstairs.”

She makes a face. “Ugh. Don’t really like licking that clean. Maybe you like my taste, but I don't.”

You laugh, a devilish idea boiling up from your subconscious. “I brought a warm washcloth. Bend over.” At her sudden poker face, you roll your eyes. “Abby, I’ve bathed you dozens of times and my fingers were in this an hour ago. Modesty has well and truly sailed.”

She turns beet red and hops to the ground with a thump, a little extra sway in her hips as she presents her rear for you to clean. She twitches a little bit through the washcloth as you wipe her down, hopping off the ground with a surprised squeak as you give her a playful slap on the ass after you’re done. “Off with you to the bathroom then," you grin.

She sputters for a moment for a response. “D-don't spank me, you pervert!” She shouts, face red as a tomato, and disappears into the bathroom so fast that you swear she left an afterimage behind.

You chuckle and occupy yourself cutting up the Kalosian toast. Abby reappears after the toilet flushes, her cheeks still pink. She pads over to you and cocks her head at you. “Don’t you want to eat at the table, Sam?”

“Nuh-uh,” you say. “Didn’t any of those romance books talk about breakfast in bed, Abby?”

She blinks. “No. What’s that?”

You pat your lap. “Come here and I’ll explain.”

She climbs onto the bed, careful to approach you from her non-horn side, and lays her front half across her lap. You pull a plate in front of you and spear a piece of toast, heavy with syrup. “When a man wants to treat a lady like a queen, he makes her a wonderful breakfast, brings it to her while she reclines in comfort, and feeds it to her,” you say, offering her the piece. She looks down on it, eyes widening.

“Oh, you... You made Kalosian Toast!” She says, eyes wide. She pecks you on the cheek. "And now you're going to feed it to me in bed?" She smiles at your nod. There's more excited words bubbling up, obviously warring with her hunger for the sweet treat. She decides after a moment that the best thing to do is to take a bite of toast and talk at the same time. “Rmffwrf urff frfm—”

“Swallow, Abby, so you don’t choke,” you grumble at her, and she does so, clearing her throat and looking mildly abashed.

“Remember our first morning together? After you brought me from the shelter?” She says, looking you in the eye. Her tail is fanning wildly.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at her. “Like it was yesterday. Here I was just trying to give you space and I turn around and suddenly there’s a hundred pounds of Abby sitting on me demanding breakfast.”

She headbutts your side. “Don’t talk about my weight you treacherous man,” she says in an imperious voice that heralds a sudden attack of the giggles in the near future. “And a queen need not demand anything, it simply is done for her as it should be!”

“As your majesty demands,” you respond in a grave tone that fits the butler to such an august individual. She holds her head high, mouth open, for more breakfast. Only after she receives another bite does she dissolve into giggling laughter, pressing against your chest for a one-armed snuggle and scritches in her fluffy Absol mane.

You both eat in companionable silence. It’s not until you’re mostly through the food that Abby looks back up at you with a more serious look. “Sam... was it really okay for you?” She asks quietly. “I just... I feel selfish. I had a great time and you just got your fingers slimy. Or did you just feel obligated to help me like a best friend and you... aren't... really into me like that?” She’s avoiding your gaze, and you feel her paws grip your leg tightly, her expression subdued.

Your stomach turns to ice. She can't possibly think that, but the look on her face is looking more hurt by the moment. You need a moment to think, and you buy yourself that moment by feeding her the last bite of toast. Finally, you speak once you can trust your voice and words. “Today wasn’t about me. Today was about taking care of you. I wouldn’t have done you any favors rushing to satisfy myself right away.”

You remember her stammering, blushing, awkward attempts to convey what she wanted and how it felt. Arceus, it felt sincere. There was no faking the desire in her eyes, and those screams were real screams. She truly relished what you two did together with passion that you don't think a woman has ever shared with you before. That memory of her sets you alight with a desire strong enough to make you feel like you're burning alive.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fire in your chest as something stirs in parts southern against her shoulder. “You were putty in my hands, weren’t you?” You ask, still stroking her head. She nods, eyes wide as she focuses on your face, on your words. “I could have done anything to you and you would have at most put up a little bit of a fight that I could have swept aside in the moment. But I don’t know that I would have been able to tell where your anxiety ended and your boundaries began in the moment and...” You close your eyes tight. “No matter how good you would feel, no matter how much I want you, nothing is worth that. If you want to go further... We can figure it out. But messing up today and hurting you is permanent and...” You’re shaking as you string run-on sentences together and Abby is holding you and listening quietly.

It’s getting harder to hold your voice steady. “You’ve seen me date over the years. You know I always fuck it up. I always say something stupid or I pick the wrong person and someone gets hurt. And, yaknow, that isn't good or anything and it hurts. But that happened to those people and this is you, Abby,” you can feel your eyes getting wet and your throat is getting more and more pinched. “You’ve been my constant for so long. I can’t fuck this up. I can’t lose you. There’s no amount of sexual thrills that is worth-”

She rises to her feet and stoppers your lips with a soft kiss. It’s not passionate. It’s not demanding. She just kisses you softly, with her forelimbs around your chest, holding you, until the tears of fear run dry and she lets go.

“Samuel Douglas Wills," she says, almost chidingly. "Did you really think that you could chase me away that easily? That just wanting me would break a friendship years in the making?"

You sniffle. “I know. I just would never forgive myself if I lost you to my own stupidity.”

“So long as you keep talking to me...” She flicks her tail. “We’ve fought before and made up. I don’t think that has to change. Just keep being you and I’ll keep being me.”

“Is that what we’re calling this?” You ask, trying to laugh.

She smiles at you. “It doesn’t have to be something. It’s just us. Except you’re getting my hot, wet, absol pussy whenever you want it now."

To her credit she holds a straight face slightly longer this time as the final words trip out of her mouth with barely a quaver. You gape at her in shock, until she finally breaks down, giggling. "Oh, Sam..." She's still laughing. "I wish I had a picture of that face."

You shake yourself. "You say that now, Abby, but you need some female friends to teach you things," you say ruefully. "Leading men around by the dick is a long and storied female tradition."

"I wouldn't do that to you!" She objects with a squeak, then pauses. "Maybe."

You're doomed, but the prospect of being with Abby long enough that that is a serious threat brings an unintended smile to your face. Judging by her happy face, she has the same thought. One of her paws drifts over your loins, stroking softly, almost unconsciously and you groan as a tent abruptly appears in your pants. She looks at you with wide eyes. "Was that... m-me?"

You take a deep breath, face flushing. "Yes, Abby, when you stroke your lover’s manhood, you offer him your... hot, wet, absol pussy, was it? for his use, and you let him see your o-face... Yes, he's going to be... aroused."

She frowns. "An o-face?"

You blink. "Yeah, it's... the face you make when you orgasm?" Her face is still confused. "You..." You find yourself smiling. "You just had your jaw hanging open, and you screwed your eyes shut so hard that you were wrinkling your nose. And then every time you..." You wave a hand at her nethers, "Squeezed, you'd clench your face a little harder and then release a bit. It was making your nose wiggle the whole time."

She stares at you, aghast, touching her face with a paw. "I-I," she sputters, "I sound hideous!"

"Oh no, Abby," you hastily reassure her, "it was adorable." You nod firmly as she looks suspicious. "Very adorable. And..." You take a deep breath, the mental image of Abby orgasming on your fingers, screaming your name, making your groin throb. "...Hot."

She shakes her head, then banishes the thought and grows more serious. "Sam, stop trying to distract me. I... I know you wanted to do more than just touch me and kiss me." She presses the rod of iron in your pants with her nose, and as her voice turns sultry, you feel your erection skip up a few steps on the Mohs scale straight to diamond and you involuntarily groan. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Your head spins as she pumps the bellows on the furnace your chest has become. Part of you wants to force it down, to be her chivalrous knight. But the other part looks at her, sees the traces of desire in those wide eyes, and remembers her words.

You can talk through anything together.

The dam breaks, and you can't get the words out fast enough.

"I wanted to just put you on your back and hold you, push deep inside you and kiss that gorgeous face while I make you scream for me to fuck you harder." A hand gropes behind her and you catch that thick behind you'd slapped earlier, sinking your fingers deep into the thick fur, fat, and muscle that gives her a delicious ass. She gasps in surprise as you knead that perfect thickness. "I wanted to pull you on top of me and get two handfuls of this and bounce you on my dick until you begged for mercy. And if you'd held that position earlier with your butt in the air. Ten. More. Seconds," You grit your teeth, "I would have had you shredding a pillow with your horn and breaking the windows with your screams when I showed you how much better I can mount you than any boy Absol ever could. You're so beautiful; I can't get enough of you," you whisper, letting your eyes trace over her form. "I want to take you to bed for the rest of the weekend and fill your pussy over and over again."

She stares at you, frozen, and for a moment you fear you've gone too far, until a whiff of tangy crosses your nose and you realize her pupils have dilated again as her face turns purest red. She shakes a little as she tries to find words, then sags back onto the bed, rolling to bare her stomach to you. The tangy smell hits you like a locomotive as she opens her legs, panting, and looks at you with what appears to be an attempt at a sultry, come-hither expression.

She just looks constipated and cross-eyed. It's not only adorable but also conveys clearly what she's thinking to someone who speaks fluent Abby. Which is you.

"C-c'mere, Sam," she husks, biting her lip. "I'm all yo-"

Your pants and shirt are on the floor before she can finish the sentence and she squeals as you tackle her, pinning her under your naked body as the desire consumes you. It feels so good and right to seize her with strong hands and assault her mouth with your own. Your tongue wrestles hers, ravaging her mouth as you rub circles on her horn with your thumb. She spasms underneath you, moaning at your touch, then cries your name as you reach down to sink your hand into her thick rear and use that leverage to grind her womanhood against your leg. She's panting, eyes wide and fixed on you, and the lust cools for a moment as you realize that you attacked her like a wild beast. There's no way she was ready for that.

You grit your teeth, forcing self-control on the rampaging desire. “Abby, you have no idea how much you’re making me want you,” you whisper, choking back the impulse to roughly deflower her right this moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be treating you like this.”

“Why are you sorry?” She demands, rubbing her horn against your hand and shivering at the feeling. “Seeing you look at me like that...” She trails off, eyes distant. “Sam, a few hours ago I was deathly afraid that you wouldn’t even want to look at me. I cried myself to sleep last night wanting your touch." Her eyes refocus on you. “And here you are, looking at me like I’m the only girl in the world, telling me how many ways you want to take me to bed because I please you so. D-do you know how that makes me feel?”

You shake your head, and she folds her forepaws around your shoulders to hold you tight. “It feels good, Sam. It feels really good. I feel... powerful. Like I am your queen and you’re worshiping at my feet.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, your royal highness,” you mutter rebelliously, feeling the overwhelming desire ebb a little bit, and she giggles.

“Haven’t I always been your queen?” She asks, laughing at you, and you stroke her head.

“Ever since the moment I brought you home,” you whisper, and she presses her forehead against yours for a long moment, then taps your head with a paw.

“Roll over?” She asks, and you let her roll you both sideways so you can cuddle against each other. “My turn to touch,” she whispers, tracing a trail of kisses down your neck and throat that make you shiver. Her dexterous paws press against you as she explores your body in a way that's both new and old. Abby’s touched you almost everywhere before in the course of living with each other, but just like it was for you, it’s different when you’re touching your lover’s body for the first time.

You feel a little self-conscious. Your body is nothing special-- sure, you aren’t fat or ugly, but even though you do hard physical labor as a part of your job, you don’t have a bodybuilder’s physique. There’s wiry hair everywhere, and a patchwork of little scars from small accidents over the course of your working life. Thankfully, nobody seems to have told Abby how unexciting you are as she explores you with her paws and nose, pupils dilating and a soft purr rumbling from her chest as she traces your muscles ever downward. “Like what you see?” You ask, suppressing the desire to put a guiding hand on her head.

“Yes..." She murmurs, glancing up at you with slitted eyes. “I could just eat you up, Sam." Her cheeks heat slightly at the thought as she gazes at you and her paws slide down to cup your manhood. She turns even more red when you gasp and thrust instinctively against her soft paw pads. "Can I?" She asks, holding your eyes with her own, and at your frantic nod she bends down and licks your entire length in one smooth motion.

You grit your teeth, only partially suppressing the surprised moan, and her purr only becomes louder as she presses her face against your groin. You feel her nose you, sniffing, and groan as she rubs her soft facial fur against you.

"It’s just an average dick, Abby," you say, feeling ever so self conscious as she stares at it.

She looks up at you, confusion in her face, and lets go to scoot back up so she can look you in the eye. "Sam," she says quietly. "It doesn't matter. It's yours and that makes it better than any other one in the world." She swallows, hard, and you smell the tang of her arousal growing, even sharper now as she rolls onto her back. "I want you to take me," she says in a low voice, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "Please?"

The lust surges back, but you're its master now and you hold it under iron self control as you climb back on top of Abby. She looks up at you, trusting, parting her legs and offering that quivering snatch up to you. "G-go slow?" She stammers.

"Of course I will," you promise. She presses her hot wet self up against you and you lean forward to kiss her mouth as you slide fruitlessly against her folds. For a moment there's only frustration as your fingers and manhood navigate a very different sort of opening than you're used to, and then...

"Oh, Sam!" Abby gasps as you slide inside her. She makes you throb like nobody else ever has, because it’s Abby that you’re inside of. She's looking up at you with wide, trusting eyes and moaning your name as you slide ever deeper, ever so slowly. She feels perfect, sopping wet inside and wrapping you in steel softened with heated silk.

Your groins press against each other as you bottom out inside of her and she hugs you tight against her with all four limbs. "I-I didn't think you could-ahh!- pleasure me more after earlier, but," she shuts her eyes and humps against you for a moment, moaning and shuddering. "You filling me feels so-urgh!- good, Sam. So-hngh!- right."

“You feel amazing, too,” you whisper as you grip the back of her head in one hand and cup her thick ass in the other. She whimpers as you pull out slightly, then gasps as you thrust back in, each movement slow and tender. It wasn't the frantic rutting you'd fantasized to her about, but watching her face melt into bliss as you make slow, gentle love to her is even better.

You built a tempered rhythm, cupping her against you by your hands behind her neck and behind her ass, watching her face closely as you roll your hips. Her eyes shoot open in shock as you pull her rear down just a little bit as you roll your hips up, then thrust, and it's in that moment that you know you have her. "W-what was-oh!- that, Sam?" She moans, eyes wide as saucers. "Do it -ahh!- again."

You repeat the motion and she holds you tight as you carefully press yourself against the pleasure button you've laid bare. It's only then that you speed up your thrusts, grunting with pleasure as her hot flesh milks you, and her cries become screams.

"Oh Sam, Sam, Sam," she pants. "Faster. Please!" You oblige, beginning to pound her as she spasms under you. "Yes! PleaseDontStop!" She begs. It's only moments until her womanhood crushes down on your throbbing length as she screams.

"SAM!"

A distant clinical part of you notes that she's screaming much louder and much longer this time and that her forelimbs are binding her to you like iron bands, but most of you is very much occupied with the fact that you're about to come despite your best efforts. You grit your teeth, trying to hold on to give Abby another moment of the pleasure that she deserves. She starts coming down from that blissful high, still panting and moaning to the rhythm of your thrusts, and a devilish smile crosses her lips as she looks at you. It's at that moment you realize you've unchained a monster this day as her lips part.

"Inside me, Sam. Now."

There's no holding yourself back as those words bypass your brain to sink into your balls and you feel the orgasm roll over you, but letting go inside Abby, your Abby, feels right. "Give it to me, Sam, I want it," she murmurs into your ear, holding you against her as your own iron grip pulls you together and pressing her luscious sex tight against your base. It's been a while for you, and the bolt of pleasure-laces lightning that lances through your manhood as thick spurts of pent-up seed fill her leaves you seeing stars.

"Abby," you groan, and in response she bucks against you.

"Yes, Sam, please..." She bites your ear lightly as her words make you see stars once again with each powerful throb that fills her.

Both of you sag back into a molten pile of intermingled body parts as your shuddering climax finishes and Abby licks your cheek. "Sam?" She asks in a half-choked voice, panting. "Promise me something?"

It's hard to find your own voice, but at that moment you would promise her the sun, moon, and stars. "Yes?" You finally get out.

"That at some point you ravage me like you wanted to." She says, laughing as her breathing eases. "All those fantasies about how you wanted to take me hard and fast, and you were still so slow and gentle."

You grin. "It sounds like someone wants to spend all weekend in this bed getting pounded until she can't walk."

She scoffs, before turning in to nuzzle you. "I'm your queen. You can just carry me wherever I need to go."

You chuckle. "Good thing for you that I live to serve."

The two of you cuddle close as certainty settles about you like a warm, comforting blanket.

Both of you are going to be just fine.