FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It's almost noon before I finally get up. I don't want to -- the apartment is still freezing -- but I'm hungry and I need to piss. Shivering, I emerge from the bathroom and make my way into the kitchen, where I open the oven door and turn it on. I hate doing this. I can hardly afford my electric bill as it is, but it's just too damn cold, even with my thick fur. As the elements inside the oven heat up, I stand before it, warming my paws like it's a campfire while I try to remember if there's anything in the apartment to eat.

I hear a noise behind me and glance back as Jesse wanders out, the comforter wrapped around his body and his clothes in his arms. He drapes them over the back of my kitchen chairs so they'll dry, holding his underwear out closer to the heat. Big surprise, it's a purple thong.

"What's it with you and purple?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It's my favorite color."

I nod. "Are you hungry?"

"Maybe. Do you have anything to eat?"

"Maybe," I say. I start opening cupboards. I know there's nothing worth eating in the fridge. "I've got soup. And rice. And stewed tomatoes. And a can of something with the label missing."

"What kind of soup?"

"Split pea, vegetable, chicken noodle, and minestrone."

"Vegetable sounds good."

"Thank God, now I won't have to eat it," I say, pulling it out of the cupboard. I grab a can of chicken noodle for myself, peel the labels off both cans, open them up, and stick them in the oven. As long as it's on, there's no sense wasting electricity by turning on the burners. When the soup is hot, I slip on oven mitts and pull the cans out, dumping them into bowls. Luckily, I do have two bowls and a whole pile of plastic spoons I collected from fast food restaurants.

We sit at the table to eat, like we're civilized folk, the room finally warm enough that when my comforter slips down off Jesse's shoulders, he doesn't pull it back up again. He has such beautiful, silky white fur, and even though he's slender, he's not skinny or scrawny. He has strong shoulders and good muscle definition beneath his fur, a long, sexy neck, and those big, velvet ears. I hadn't noticed before, but he has ink in his ears, a delicate abstract vine pattern along the outer edge of the pink skin, in purple, of course.

"Do you want something?" Jesse asks suddenly, an edge to his voice.

I blink. "No. Why--"

"You're staring at me. Usually, that means someone wants me to suck their cock."

"Well, I'm not interested in having you suck my cock," I say, although once I say it, I become interested, unable to stop myself from picturing him on his knees, his pink lips wrapped around my cock. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, my cockhead emerging from my sheath and rubbing against the inside of my boxers. I ignore it. We have more important things to discuss.

"I was looking at you, not staring," I say. "I was trying to decide how to get our potential clients' attention. You need an angle, a theme, a gimmick -- something to set you apart from the others. You need a name."

"What's wrong with the one that I have?"

"Nothing, but we don't want to give people your real name. Like an exotic dancer or a porn star, you need a stage name. I was thinking, since you like purple so much, we could play with that. Like call you Amethyst or Lavender. Lilac. Plum. Violet--" I raise my eyebrows. "Violet. I like that. Can you play coy and innocent?"

"I suppose," Jesse says, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Why would I want to?"

"Because you are going to be Shy Violet, and all those rich, powerful, middle-aged businessmen are just going to eat you up."

We finish our soup and I get out the laptop, managing to find an unsecured wireless network that I can tap into. I find us a cheap domain name -- sexysnowbunny.com -- and get to work. He watches over my shoulder as I lay out the front page.

"All right," I say, glancing back at him, "let's decide on what services you offer. Oral?"

"Yeah."

"Anal?"

"Sure."

"Facials? Rimming? Bondage?"

"Why are you asking? I'll do whatever they pay me to do."

I turn in my chair to look at him. "Not anymore, you won't. We run a classy establishment and you will be treated with respect. You won't have to do anything you don't want to do."

He looks at me like I'm crazy, then he shrugs. "Those are okay, I guess. Bondage costs more and no S & M stuff. No scat, watersports, or blood play. Rubbers are a must -- I don't do bareback. Everything else is fine."

I type all of that into the website, then stand up. "Okay, now for the pictures."

"Now?" he asks. "I look like hell." He reaches up to touch his bruised and swollen face.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," I tell him as I go to find the camera. "Spread that comforter over the sofa so you can't see the stains." When I come back, the sofa is draped in the blanket and doesn't look half bad. Jesse is sitting on the edge of the sofa wearing just his purple thong, nervously combing his fingers through his purple hair. I fetch a brush out of the bathroom, and search through my coat pockets until I find his jewelry.

"Here," I say, handing it back to him. I sit down beside him and brush his soft hair as he puts the rings back through his nipples. "Didn't that hurt?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah," he says. "Like hell."

"And the cock piercing?"

"Not so much, surprisingly. There really isn't much meat to pierce at that spot." He shoves his paw into his underwear and strokes his sheath, trying to coax his cock out enough to put the ring back in, but he must be really nervous, because nothing happens. He gives a tight laugh. "Well, this kinda spoils your photos, doesn't it?"

"Relax," I tell him, turning the brush over to use the shorter, softer bristles on his body fur. I gently brush along his ears, and down his back, fluffing his tail. "You're the Shy Violet, remember? We need to work with that." I get up and get him his shirt, which is warm and dry. "Put that on. I'll be right back."

I return from the bedroom with a well-pawed copy of Playbunny, which I toss down beside him.

"What's this for?"

"It's a prop," I say. "We're going to pretend like you found your roommate's porn magazine and you're looking through it. You've never seen one before and you're embarrassed and aroused."

He frowns at me. "Have you done this sort of thing before?"

"No," I say with a laugh, "but I have a cousin who is a photographer for a smaller porn magazine and when I went back to visit family a few years ago, he invited me to a shoot. Let me tell you, it's not nearly as sexy as the pictures. There's no sex, it's all just posing." I pick up the camera and turn on all the lights in the room. "Ready?"

"I- I suppose..."

"Just relax and do what I tell you. Sit sideways on the sofa and stretch your legs out in front of you." He sits with the injured side of his face turned away from the camera. "Cross your ankles so we can see your feet. Some guys really like big feet." He blushes and I take a quick picture. I probably won't use it, but you never know. "Now, open the magazine. Hold it up so we can see the cover. Hmm..."

"Problem?"

"No, I just need you to look like you're enjoying yourself."

"How do I--" He glances down at his crotch. "Oh. Right." He sets the magazine down and starts to stroke himself again, but it doesn't seem to be helping. I set the camera down and walk over to the sofa. He gives me a wary look.

"Do you want me to try?" I ask.

He hesitates. "Yeah, okay. Whatever," he says, trying to act like he doesn't care but I can tell he's still nervous. I kneel down beside the sofa and slide my paw into his underwear, lightly stroking his velvet-soft sheath before reaching down to cup his balls. I can hear him breathing hard as I lean down and flick my tongue against the opening of his sheath. He makes a soft, helpless sound as his cock emerges, the tip flushed a delicate pink. I run my tongue over the head, slowly bathing the shaft as it appears, until he's moaning and whimpering, trying to lift his hips off the sofa.

I'm even out of breath when I draw back, carefully pulling his underwear up over his straining erection. "There we are. Now, you grab the magazine." I get up and find the camera, waiting until Jesse holds up the magazine like I'd told him to. "Good...good..." I start snapping photos from different angles. "Now, look at me -- look like I just walked in and caught you. You know, surprised and embarrassed."

He glances up, his eyes wide, his face flushed, and I take a few more pictures. "Perfect," I tell him. "Now, come into the bedroom with me."

"O- okay," he says, leaving the magazine on the sofa as he follows me. I turn on the bedside lamp and angle it so it shines onto the bed.

"Take off your shirt and lie down on your back," I say. He hesitates, then stretches out across my dark blue sheets, his white fur seeming to glow in the light from the lamp, his nipple piercings glinting. I climb up, standing on the end of the bed to look down at him. "All right, now turn your face to the side to hide the bruises and raise one arm up over your head. Spread your legs a bit. A bit more. Now bend your left knee a little. Stop -- right there. Now close your eyes; don't move."

I take several pictures. "All right, now put your paw down the front of your underwear, like you're playing with yourself in your sleep. Good; just like that." I climb down off the bed. "Okay...now roll over, onto your stomach."

He gives me that wary look again, but rolls over. I fluff his tail and make sure his thong runs straight between his cheeks before crouching down and taking a few pictures of his ass.

"Very nice," I say. "Okay, now for something a little different." I grab my coat off the back of the door and slip it on over my T-shirt and boxers. I grab one of my spare ones and hold it out to him. "C'mon, this'll only take a minute."

"Where are we going?" he asks, looking confused as he climbs off the bed.

"It's a surprise," I say, certain he won't come if he knows. He slips into the coat, the hem falling almost to his ankles. I hadn't realized he was that much shorter than me. His ears make him look taller. He follows me into the hall and up three more flights of stairs to the roof. I have to throw my shoulder against the door to get it to budge, a three-foot snowdrift piled against it, and the snow is still falling. We have to step up to get out of the stairwell, my paws sinking almost to my knees in the deep snow, but he walks along beside me, only sinking to his ankles, thanks to his big feet.

"What the hell are we doing up here?" he asks, his teeth chattering, his arms and my coat wrapped tight around himself.

"Well, since our web address is sexy snow bunny dot com, I thought we should get a few shots of you in the snow."

"Right, because nothing is sexier than frostbite," he grumbles.

I can't help but chuckle. "It'll only take a few minutes. Now, take off your coat."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jesse says, but he shrugs off the coat and tosses it to me. Wearing just his purple thong and nipple-rings, his white fur nearly blends into the snowdrifts.

"Okay, over here," I say, motioning to the edge of the roof, where a low wall runs around the perimeter. "Put your forepaws on the wall and kind of lean out. Arch your back and lift your tail. Now look back over your shoulder at me and gimme a shy smile, kinda flirty." I snap a few pictures and then move around beside him. "That's great. Now sit on the edge, stretch your legs out, and tip your head back. Let the wind blow your ears around. And close your eyes."

He takes direction so well. I notice that the cold is doing unfortunate things to his erection. Probably should have put a cockring on him before coming out. Something to keep in mind for next time. I pick up his coat and help him into it. He's shivering terribly as he heads for the stairs, but I catch him by the arm.

"Hang on," I say. "There's one more shot I want to get, but you're not quite ready anymore." I motion toward his crotch and his face turns red under his fur.

"Well, you try staying hard in this weather," he says defensively.

"I wasn't judging," I say, giving him a crooked grin. "I was offering to help."

"Oh." I didn't think it was possible, but he blushes even darker. "Okay."

I crouch and pull down the front of his underwear, his cock shrinking back into its sheath as the cold air surrounds it. I lean close and breathe on him, my hot breath stirring his fur. I lap at the opening and he groans as his cock emerges again. I slide my tongue over the tip before taking him into my muzzle, licking and sucking until he swells to his full length and girth. I can taste the precum that leaks from his cock, thick and musky on my tongue.

He makes a disappointed sound as I draw back and quickly pull his underwear back up, but I don't pay it much mind. We've got to get this done before we both freeze.

"Coat," I say, motioning for him to give it back. He hands it over and I point to the smooth, undisturbed snow behind him. "I want you to lie down--"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he asks.

"It's just for a minute," I say, and then I move forward, stepping on one of his large footpaws as I give him a shove. Unable to take a backward step to catch himself, he swings his arms wildly before falling on his tail in the snow. He looks up at me and I take a picture. "Sorry. Now just lie back and pretend you're sprawled in some rich lawyer's bed, being paid two thousand dollars an hour just to look sexy."

"For two thousand an hour, you can bet looking sexy isn't all that I'll be doing," he says, but lies back in the snow, his arms flung out on either side of him, his back slightly arched, showing off his sculpted chest and pierced nipples.

"Good, good, perfect," I say, taking the pictures. "All right, we're done." I reach down to help him up, but he scoops up a pawful of snow and flings it at me, hitting me square in the ear. I shiver and shake my head, trying to get the ice out of my ear, and he quickly packs another snowball and hits me in the chest with it.

Laughing, he climbs to his feet, and I snap another picture of him as he throws one last snowball at me. "Can we go in now?"

"I said we were done." I hand him my spare coat and he hurries toward the door. I smirk to myself as I bend down and scoop up a pawful of snow, packing it into a loose ball. I throw it, hitting him square in the back of the head and he whips around, looking shocked and indignant. "Sorry," I say with an unrepentant grin. He gives an exaggerated harrumph and storms away.

I quickly make another snowball and follow him into the stairwell, nailing him in the back as he descends the stairs. We both laugh all the way back to my apartment.