FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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I highly recommend that you read Part 1 if you haven't already done so.

I changed the paragraph format from what I used in the first one, I think it is easier to read on a computer this way.

I'm also going to have to apologize to the readers in advance for something I've done. I'm not going to say what, just that I'm sorry. This didn't exactly turn out as I planned when I started this part. It's better. At least I think it is. I finished this with the help of a fifth of JD. Hopefully it's still good when I'm sober.

Also anybody that might be offended by sexual situations involving fictitious minors might wanna go find a snuff story or something.

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Part 2

Roger woke up with the morning sun glaring through the shade. A Saturday morning cartoon was playing quietly on the television, something with feline robots in space. He picked up the remote and hit the "GUIDE" button to check the time. 8:07 am. He noticed that the show he was watching was actually called "Feline Robots in Space".

How original. He thought.

There was a clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Roger set aside the remote and rubbed his eyes. Somehow he had managed to get some sleep, not much though, he felt like crap. His mind was foggy, there was a dull pain behind his eyes, and his lower lip still throbbed where Julie had bitten him. He stood up and stretched. The afghan tumbled to the floor. His back was stiff, he had a cramp in his tail from sitting on it all night, and front of his clothes were all matted and damp. Even his underwear was wet, and his groin was tender from it. The shirt was a total loss, torn in several places and missing two buttons. He picked up the throw off the floor. It was damp as well. He draped it over the couch so it would dry.

Roger walked into the kitchen rubbing himself behind at the base of the tail to work out the cramp. Julie was already in there, hunting around his kitchen. The young ferret had found some clothes. An extra large "Hello Beetle" t-shirt that went down to the young ferret's knees. The fur on her head was mussed and sticking out in all directions.

"Mornin' Uncle Roger." She said cheerily, apparently having had a better nights rest then he did, "Where do you keep your spoons?" She had already poured herself a bowl of Fruitie O's cereal.

"They're in the drawer next to the fridge." He eyed the jug of milk on the table suspiciously, he wasn't sure when he had last bought milk. He picked up the jug and read the expiration date. The date was almost a month ago. He picked up her bowl as well and took them both to the sink and dumped them in.

"Hey!" Julie was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a spoon looking dejected, "I was going to eat that!"

"Believe me, you didn't want to." He told her, "The cereal is probably stale anyway."

She put the spoon back in the drawer, "You don't have much to eat here do you?"

"Sorry, baby, I don't eat at home much." He smiled at her, "Why don't we get cleaned up and go out for breakfast?"

"Alright," she said turning to leave the kitchen, then she turned back to him with a hopeful look on her face, "Can we go to McDonald's?"

"We can go anywhere you want."

She gave a little squeak in joy and ran toward the bathroom.

"Wait!" He called out to her, as he sat down at the table, "I need to ask you something."

He heard her let out an "Ugh" as she came back, she peek into the kitchen, "What, Uncle Roger?"

"How are you feeling, honey?"

Julie shrugged, "Fine."

Roger folded his paws together and rested his muzzle on them, he regarded her sternly for a moment. She shuffled nervously under his gaze.

"Are you sure?" He asked, "You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?"

"I'm fine." She insisted without conviction, "Can I go get ready? I'm really hungry."

"Okay." He said waving her off with a smile. He listened to her soft paws on the carpet as she retreated to the bathroom.

She's not going to tell me. Not that I blame her, why should she trust me?

Roger got up from the table and picked up the cordless phone. He flipped through the phone book and found the number for the pediatrician. Her parents had been using the same one that his parents used. At least he was pretty sure they did.

Julie popped back in the doorway. Roger tried not to look suspicious. Leaning on the open book and tucking the phone under his arm. He failed miserably, but Julie didn't seem to notice anyway. She looked worried and a little guilty.

"Uncle Roger, the floor is still wet in there, and the door won't stay closed."

Roger smiled, he had forgotten about that. "Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up. You can use my bathroom."

"Okay." Once again she turned away. Roger waited a little longer this time before referring back to the phone book. Hmm, 867-5309, that sounds familiar somehow. He thought as he dialed.

"Yes, I'll hold." He told the lady on the phone when she asked.

Damn, it's Saturday. They might not be able to get... Ooh, I like this song... Just a small town girl, living in a lone-ly world. Took the midnight train going aaanyyyywhere! Just a city boy, born and raised in south De--

"Uh, yes, hello. Did you you say Jenny? This is Roger Geestee, I was wondering if you could squeeze me in for an appointment today."

"Yeah, I know it's Saturday, but it's sort of an emergency."

"Well it's my niece, you see... I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I was hoping that I wouldn't have to take her to the ER, she knows you guys and this is a delicate matter."

"It might be able to wait until Monday, but... Oh, I'm sorry, her last name is Kreejee"

"Yes! That's her. I was..."

"Thank you for your condolences, it's been pretty harrowing the last few weeks."

"Yeah, he was drunk, the bastard didn't even get a scratch on him." Mother-fucking, crack smoking rattus didn't even fucking bump his shit filled head!

"No, she was at her friend's house at the time, she wasn't hurt."

"Well, it seems that she's had a little visit from mother nature..."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is."

"I don't know how many days, she won't talk to me about it, but I noticed some bruising on her ears and a little bit of od... I'm sorry?"

"Ye-" NO! Roger, you already told her that Julie didn't talk to you about it! Play it off as a cough! "Excuse me. No, I don't know if there is any swelling."

"No, her fur seems fine."

"Um, it's really hard to say. I mean, I don't know how she's supposed to be emotionally right now with all things considered. I think it's gone unnoticed because everyone expected her to be a wreck."

"Yeah, that would be great if you talked to her to see if she's willing to see us today."

"Yes, I can."

Don't stop... belieeeving! Hold on to that feeeliaang! Street lights... peopleohhhhaaaaaaaa! Don't stop... belieeeving! Hold oowwwiionn! Street lights... peopleohhhaaaaaaaa! Don't stop... Belieeeving! Street lights... damn, that fox can sing!

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Twelve-fifteen? Great! Thank you very much, Jenny. We'll see you then." He hung up the phone and set it down. She's gonna be pissed if I take her to the doctor without telling her why. Guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, in about four hours.

Roger fished out a sponge mop from the storage room next to the kitchen and took it to the hall bath. He inspected the doorway. The door itself seemed fine, the knob still turned, the latch still recessed smoothly, and the lock worked. The jamb was a different matter. A large part of it had splintered off, taking the strike plate with it. He'd have to pry off that section of the jamb and replace it. He picked up the broken piece off the floor and fitted it back in it's proper place. Well, maybe I'll just glue it back.

He tossed the broken piece on the counter next to the sink. He picked up the towel laying in the center of the room. It dripped loudly on the floor as he held it aloft for a moment. To hell with it. He thought and tossed it into the bathtub. Then he picked up Julie's bunched up wet dress off the floor. Her stockings and undershirt fell out of it when he did, joining the wet panties next to the toilet. He wrung out the black dress over the sink, and happened to read the label when he did: "Dry Clean Only!"

With an exclamation point as well, figures.

He tiptoed through the wet floor and hung the most likely ruined dress on the curtain rod. He wrung out and did the same for her stockings and undershirt. He examined the panties for a moment after picking them up. Pink, with blue flowers on them. He held them up to his nose. Even though they had been soaking in a puddle of water all night he could still pick up that thick, odorless scent. I can't believe I didn't recognize that sooner, I must be getting old.

Julie's panties joined the rest of her clothes on the rod. Roger mopped up the floor, wringing out the mop over the tub. He frowned at the floor. Looks like it soaked right through the grout, I hope the tiles don't pop up.

Having cleaned the mess in the bathroom as best as he cared to at the moment, Roger examined himself in the mirror. He didn't look any better then he felt. His fur was disheveled, his eyes were bloodshot, there was crusted blood in the fur under his slightly swollen lip, and his shirt was destroyed. It was a button down shirt, but he didn't bother with the buttons. He pulled it off over his head and tossed it in the wastebasket.

He walked down the hall to his bedroom. He could hear the shower running in the master bath. Of course she's taking another shower, she's trying to get the smell to go away. Roger thought. At least I know she won't walk in on me at the moment. He stripped off his damp pants and underwear and tossed them into the hamper. He opened his dresser and picked out his clothes for the day. Blue jeans and a black tee shirt that said: "Sarcasm, just Another FREE service I provide".

After snagging a pair of underwear from the bottom drawer Roger returned to the hall bath. The door would shut, but swing back in a few inches leaving a gap he could easily see through, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He set down his folded clothing next to the sink on top of the broken door jamb. His most immediate concern was the cold air on a portion of his body that typically was very warm. His penis was hanging out of it's sheath, semi-erect. Julie had been on his lap most of the night and he had been exposed to the scent the entire time. His body was reacting to it. It was irritating for the sensitive organ to be out so long, rubbing against the wet clothing all night didn't help matters. It was reddish in patches with a crisscross of swollen veins clearly visible under the semi-translucent skin.

He had some ointment especially for such irritations, but it was in the other bathroom. He opened the drawers under the sink to look for something else to use and found some petroleum jelly. Not exactly the best substitute, but it would do. He dabbed some on, all the while trying to work the penis back into the sheath.

If the wind blows... it's like I'm fourteen again.

It turned out to be a losing battle, like trying to stuff a greasy eel into a teacup. The more he tried to push it in the worse it got. In short order he had a full blown hard-on. He blew out a sigh of surrender. There was really only one thing left that he could do.

He winced as he gripped his tender penis in his paw. The jelly had softened the pads on his palms somewhat, but it was still unpleasant against his irritated member. There was a stinging sensation, like his paws hand tiny needles on them. The discomfort didn't alleviate the erection at all, if anything he could feel it grow harder. He began to stroke. Grunting slightly at the pain at first, but it became dulled in short order as he gained a rhythm. He breathed in deeply through his nose as the sensation began to take hold.

Roger quickly became aware that this was much different then an average bathroom toss.

He could feel the lust well up in him. It was primal and powerful. Churning in his midsection like a fire, then building into an inferno. His nostrils flared and his breathing became quick and erratic. The smell that he had found so difficult to place before seemed to waft off the panties hanging over the bath. He instinctively licked his nose, heightening the sense. He could almost see the fragrance in the air, a fine mist of thick, pink hunger. It swirled in his head, speaking to him in a wordless language, demanding, pleading that he give in. His lips curled back revealing his gleaming canines. All the discomforts and pains in his body were forgotten. His hips thrust themselves forward with every stroke. He made low chit-chit sounds from deep in his chest, he couldn't suppress them.

Somewhere in Roger's mind his higher conscience came to a realization. If Julie walked in here right now I wouldn't be able to stop myself! I'd just keep jerking off right in front of her!

Oh, fuck! I'm almost there!

Roger nearly stumbled positioning himself over the toilet. He pressed is free paw against the wall to steady himself. It made a resounding thud as it made contact, echoing throughout the walls of the house. The lid of the toilet was up, but the seat was still down. There was no time to rectify that, he'd just have to try and aim better.

He emitted a gasp that sounded terribly loud in the tiled bathroom. That strange, but familiar mixture of pain and extreme pleasure took hold. The muscles down his back all flexed in unison causing him to thrust forward as the orgasm forced its way through his delicate plumbing. The first heavy spurt made an audible noise as it shot out, something between a snap and a pop. It missed it's mark completely, splattering against the bottom of the upturned lid. The second and third fared little better, each striking the floor on opposite sides of the toilet. After that he gave up aiming, and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.

I've never seensuch a load. Roger thought when he opened his eyes. He was panting rapidly. He wiped away the saliva around his mouth on his arm. Eat your heart out, Ron Jeremy. His paw continued to slowly work at his penis. Strangely he wasn't starting to get flaccid yet.

Are you fucking kidding me? He realized that he was on the upswing again.

His second orgasm was far less intense then the first, but seemed to sap him of his remaining energy. He leaned his back against the wall opposite the toilet. Holy shit, that was the best ever. That was better then real sex. I felt like an animal. He inspected the mess. It was dripping off the seat, both inside and outside the bowl. A large mass of it was slowly oozing down the lid. It was on the floor. It was on the side of the wastebasket. There was even a glob on the shirt he had thrown into the basket. Looks like a whole football team took a shot at it.

Roger looked at his paw, it was caked in the fur. Gooey strands of it hung between the digits when he splayed them out. He looked around for something to wipe it off with, the toilet paper didn't seem like it would have enough substance to do the job. He snagged the closest available piece of cloth. Julie's panties hanging over the tub.

I can't even smell them anymore, weird.

The damp undergarment made short work of the white, viscous fluid. He used it clean off his now docile penis, as well as the few gobs that somehow managed to get on his stomach. He worked his penis back into the sheath, this time it stayed in obediently. Yeah, you better be done.

He almost hung the panties back up, but realized that they had to washed now no matter what. He tossed them casually into the tub with the towel. Now he had a much larger mess to tackle. I suppose I could just sop it all up with that towel, or maybe I could use the mop. He looked at the mop leaning next to the bathroom door just in time to see a pair of blue eyes disappear from the gap between the jamb and door.

****"Don't Stop Believing" and all rights to the words and music belong to Journey. The author makes no claims to it. (But you knew that already, and yes, in my world Steve Perry has a fox fursona.)

"867-5309/Jenny" and all rights to the words and music belong to Tommy Tutone. The author makes no claims to this either. (And why would I?)****