FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I hurry out and grab my clothes, pulling them on and tucking my stubborn cock into my thong. Just like Clyde promised, there are bundles of cash on the bed and I quickly stuff them into all my pockets and into the waistband of my jeans, leaving my shirt untucked to hide the bulges.

I make sure I'm not forgetting anything, then hesitantly open the door a crack. I hear voices -- a conversation -- and I stand behind the door, one long ear against the opening, listening.

"--make another appointment?" Carson says.

"I'm afraid not," Clyde replies, and I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "I'm traveling out of state next week and I don't know what my schedule will look like when I get back. Besides, I make it a point not be a repeat customer."

"Really?" Carson asked. "Are you sure it wasn't something one of us did?"

Clyde chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound. "You're going to have to work on your business etiquette and keeping those emotions off your face, but no, it wasn't anything you did, and certainly nothing that Violet did. Quite the opposite, in fact. I could see myself getting attached to him quite easily, and a possessive client needs to be dropped early and avoided at all costs. Jealousy does terrible things to people."

"Speaking of people to avoid, thank you for that list. The last thing I want to do is put J- Violet in danger."

"That's a good attitude to have," Clyde says, "and I'm glad you feel that way. I could tell that Violet wasn't used to kindness or courtesy. I hope you can change that."

"So do I," Carson says. "His last manager was a real bastard and he deserves better. He deserves better then this, but...what're ya gonna do? We have to eat." I feel a warmth in my chest that I can't explain. It's like feeling the spring sun on my fur after a long, gray winter, only from the inside out.

Carson is a handsome fox, there's no denying that, and aside from the mugging, he's been kinder to me than anyone I can remember. I'd be lucky to have a guy like him. But that weird reindeer was right -- I jump into things before I think about them, especially relationships. Every boyfriend that I've had -- and even the couple of girlfriends -- all started out fast and hard, and ended badly. I wouldn't want to do that to Carson.

I know he said he wants to keep our relationship professional, and that's probably a good idea, but I can't help wondering if he just doesn't want to get involved with a whore -- and if that's the case, I can't really blame him -- or if it's something else, if maybe he's been hurt before, too, and doesn't want it to happen again. I can't blame him for that, either, but neither can I stop myself from thinking about his strong arms, wrapped around me in bed, his warm breath against my ear. What if it's not the cold that has him cuddling up to me in the night?

"That reminds me," Clyde says. "Violet exceeded my expectations this evening and I rewarded him with a bonus. I'm sure I don't have to say this, but that is his money."

There's a long silence and I bite my lower lip, waiting for Cason to respond. "You're right," he says finally, his tone cold, "you didn't have to say it. Maybe you could go check on him, see what's taking so long."

Great, now he's pissed. I sigh and pull the door open, stepping out before they can come looking for me. Carson is sitting on the sofa where I'd left him, brown paper bag full of money held tightly in his paws. His ears are flat and he doesn't look up as I walk out. I'm trying hard not to walk funny, but my steps are stiff and tight, my tailhole sore. Carson stands as I come close.

"Thanks for your business," he says, tossing the room keycard down on the coffee table and heading for the door.

I hesitate. "Bye, Clyde," I say and hurry after Carson as fast as my aching ass will let me. "Cason, wait up," I call as he stalks down the hall ahead of me. He doesn't wait, but he has to stop at the elevator and I manage to catch up just as the doors open. I'm panting as we step inside, the same plump raccoon standing beside the bank of buttons, waiting to push one for us. I take it back -- standing in an elevator all day cannot be an easy job.

"Ground floor," Carson says, and then crosses his arms over his chest and stares straight ahead, like I'm not even there. I shoot a glance at the raccoon, but he has a polite and professional ignoring face on, unlike Carson, who has a cold and moody ignoring face.

"Are you angry at me?" I ask finally

"Why would I be angry at you?" he growls. The elevator reaches the lobby and we get off, Carson stalking through the grand receiving area and forcing me to practically trot after him, my jaw clenched as each step makes me want to wince. I catch him when he stops outside to hail a taxi.

"You are angry," I say. "What did I do?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Because I don't know," i say in exasperation. "I didn't do anything--"

"You told him," Carson snaps, turning on me, his ears flattened to his skull. "You went shooting your mouth off and told him that I mugged you."

"No, I didn't," I say.

"Then why did he make a point of telling me not to take your tip money?"

"Because that's what a lot of managers would do," I tell him. "If Mr. Erickson thought you were holding out on him, he'd have you beaten and searched, and he wasn't even one of the bad ones! I didn't tell Clyde anything about you, I swear."

He seems to hesitate, then his ears slowly swivel forward and his scowl fades. "Yeah, okay," he says finally. "Sorry for snarling at you like that. I just...I guess I don't want people to know what an asshole I was to you."

"You weren't an asshole," I say as he tries again to flag down a passing taxi. "You were just trying to survive. Although twisting my ear wasn't very nice." I give him a crooked grin. "Besides, if I told anyone, they'd want to know what I was doing in the park at that time of night, and I'd have to admit I was sucking off guys for twenty bucks a pop."

"That's all?" Carson asked as one of the yellow cabs finally sidled up to the curb. "Shit. Do you know how many guys you'd have to do to earn what you did tonight? Five hundred."

"Makes my jaw ache just thinking about it," I say with a laugh as we climb into the back of the cab.

Carson gives the driver our address, then says to me, "How are you feeling? He said you weren't hurt, but..."

"I'm a little sore," I say, "but it's not bad. I feel like I got blue-balls, though. I'm still hard, even after I jerked off. He told me not to cum, so I didn't, and let me tell you, there was a few times that I wanted to, really bad."

"Why don't we talk about this at home," Carson says, his gaze darting toward the mongoose driving the cab, who kept stealing glances at us in his rear-view mirror, his strange pale golden eyes reflecting the light of the oncoming traffic.

"Please, don't mind me," he says, one of his front teeth glinting gold as he smiles. I don't say anything else until we're safely inside the apartment. We peel off our coats and hang them on the back of the door, then Carson heads over to the kitchen table and dumps out the bagful of money. I walk over and stare down at the pile, and my asshole suddenly doesn't hurt as much. For a long moment, we just stand there.

"So, what are we going to buy first?" I ask finally. "New couch? TV? Bed?"

"Well..." he says, picking up one of the stacks of money and flipping through the crisp bills, "you can do as you like with your half, but I'm going to save mine for food and rent. If I'm smart, five thousand will take care of me for at least six months, and maybe I can find a job by then."

I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. I can't breathe. "But...but...I thought...Are you throwing me out?" Am I really that stupid? Did I really just sell my tailhole for this guy, and now that he has the cash, he's kicking me to the curb? "I thought this was our job. I thought we were partners!"

"Jesse, calm down," Carson says, looking taken aback by my outburst, but I can't calm down and I can't hide how hurt I am.

"Why should I calm down? You used me! You made me think we had a future when all you wanted was a quick score. It's like being mugged all over again. Do you want to twist my ears, too?"

Before I can continue, he grabs me by the back of my neck and puts his paw over my mouth. I struggle for a moment, but I can't get away. He holds me tight, but not hard. "Will you just listen for a minute?" he says. "I'm not throwing you out. I figured you'd want to leave, after what I made you do. And I didn't mean to use you. I didn't plan it. I thought...I don't know what I thought we'd be doing, but I can't make you do something like that again. You're better than that. I'm taking down the website first thing in the morning."

I try to say something and after a moment, he lets his paw drop away from my mouth. "Shouldn't this be my decision, too?" I ask. "It's my tailhole we're talking about."

"All right, what do you want to do?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I want to keep doing this," I say. "I've done far worse for a hell of a lot less. Think about it -- if we do this for a year, we'll never have to work again."

"You really want to?" He looks skeptical, but he slowly uncrosses his arms.

"For this kind of money, hell yes," I say. I pull the stacks of cash out of the waistband of my jeans and out of my pockets, dropping it into the pile on the table.

"What are you doing?" Carson asks. "That's yours."

"We're partners," I say. "We split everything fifty-fifty." Carson regards me for a moment, then he smiles and sits down at the table. We each get seventy-five hundred dollars -- more than I've ever earned in a year, let alone a single night. I keep five hundred so I can buy some new clothes, some food, maybe a warmer blanket, and I hide the rest in the freezer, back behind the empty ice cube trays. Carson tucks his under the mattress.

It's late and I'm exhausted. I'd have loved to shower, but it takes too long for my fur to dry. I'm sure I smell like sweat and sex, and I still feel slippery from all that lube, but it's all I can do to strip off my clothes before falling into bed. I feel Carson climb in on the other side and pull the blankets up over both of us.

"G'night, Jesse," he says, turning out the light.

"Night," I manage to mumble as sleep hits me like a rock.