FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Oh, gods damn it!"

"Don't pull, you'll hurt yourself.

"I can't fucking believe this..."

"Relax, you'll spoil your afterglow." The melodious tenor voice chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

The tall, well-formed Akita resumed his silent fuming as he heard the door of the other males' room stall open, the padding of soft webbed hindpaws moving toward the outer door. He looked through the cracks between his own stall door and wall, confirming that it was indeed the golden-furred otter he'd followed in here. The Akita had heard rumors, both about this particular location in the basement of the college library as well as about the young otter, and his curiosity had finally got the better of him... to potentially ruinous ends.

As if to confirm the pup's fears, the outer door burst open, admitting the powerful figure of the junior varsity quarterback. The young lion cast a quick gaze into the open cubicle, then peeked quite deliberately into the Akita's stall before throwing his head back into an amazing roar of laughter. "Parker?" he laughed. "Got your knot stuck in the glory hole? Oh fuck, I wish I had my camera! The guys are gonna_love_ this shit!"

"You're not saying a word to anyone."

Parker saw the lion's head turn toward the soft voice, the semblance of a grin as seen through a narrow slit in the door gap. "Well, Jerry-Fairy. Might have known it was you getting into all this. Was he good? Nice and tasty for you? I'll add that into my post-game report. We oughta have a nice gang bang on your tight tailhole some night."

The Akita sensed more than saw what happened next. First was another roar from the lion, one that indicated a particularly sudden and sharp pain blossoming in any male's most vulnerable location. The lion doubled over, and another very sharp smack seemed to knock the lion to the floor gasping for breath. After this, a calm tenor voice spoke slowly and clearly.

"Now that I have your attention," the voice said, "listen very closely. You aren't going to tell anyone about this, for two reasons. One of which is that I will gleefully crack open your skull like a clam upon my tummy. The other is that I will counter with stories of how you lifted tail for me after your would-be Homecoming date racked you just about as hard as I did."

"I..." the lion panted, "I never..."

"The bloody hell you didn't. I particularly remember how you mewled like a kitten when I rimmed you... which is also how I know about a particular tattoo-mark on the underside of the base of your tail. I got a good look when I was down there. And I can also tell them exactly what you cried out when I sunk my full length into you. I didn't recognize the name, but I have the suspicion that it was an uncle of yours..."

"All right, godsdammit, that's enough!" Slowly and (Parker wagered) painfully, the lion got to his hindpaws. There was a sense of another battle brewing, and the Akita could see enough to know that the lion had bunched his forepaws into fists, but after several moments, the tension eased somehow. There was some movement, although the pup couldn't see exactly what. Below the stall partition, he noticed that two pairs of hindpaws had moved very close to one another; beyond that, he wouldn't let his imagination venture. The sound of a soft, needful whimper seemed loud in the comparative silence.

"Call me," came a hushed whisper. "I think you need to talk."

Another sense of movement, gentle and quiet, and then the lion paws moved away, and the outer door swung open. It stayed open for a moment, and then Parker heard it close and the sound of a lock being thrown. Otter hindpaws appeared at the door to his stall. "The door's locked, and there's a_Closed for Cleaning_ sign on it. We've got time to get your knot to shrink." The voice paused. "Would you open your door?"

"What for?"

"It's not so anonymous now, Parker. I knew who you were anyway; I admit that I was hoping you'd finally follow me. And you know who I am. The name is Jerry."

"As in Jerry-Fairy?"

"Not my favorite nickname," the voice smiled. "But better than what they do with my last name."

"Which is?"

"Bunting."

In spite of himself, Parker chuckled. "I've got enough manners not to go there." He hesitated, then reached over backward to unlock the door. It opened slowly, and the otter entered, looking at him with gentle sympathetic eyes. No laughter, no ridicule, no smart remarks about the canine who stood with his powerful thighs and washboard stomach pressed up against the stall wall, with his still-swollen cock stuck through a hole that was now just a little too small to get everything pulled back through without hurting himself. Blushing under his fur, he said, "I guess I should thank you."

Jerry smiled. "You're welcome, although I could thank you as well. I enjoyed myself... and apart from this small difficulty, I'd say you did as well."

The blush deepened. "Yeah, pretty much."

"You got so involved in the moment that you forgot about getting yourself stuck. I must have been doing something right."

Parker said nothing, trying not to look Jerry in the eye. "I'm not gay."

"No, you're not."

The Akita whirled his head toward the otter. "You makin' fun of me now?"

"No." The look in the mustelid's soft brown eyes was unexpectedly warm and supportive. "Unlike Harris, you appear to have a steady female. I've noticed you with her often." He held up a placating forepaw. "I'm not spying on you, I don't know her name, and I'm not after you or trying to out you. You're not gay."

The Akita was far too confused to speak.

"We can talk about this later. In fact, I hope that we do. For right now, though, we need to get your knot to soften. I know a way that should help, but it's going to freak you out a little. You need to relax, and as paradoxical as it seems, the best way... starts here."

Parker's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he felt the otter's webbed forepaw begin to pet his furry butt-cheeks. "Hey, wait a minute..."

"Not that," the otter said softly. "Something else. I need you to trust me."

"Don't try to--"

"Wouldn't dream of it. That won't help you, because it's too frightening. This will surprise you, but it should do the trick."

Jerry moved behind the Akita and knelt down. Before he could utter another complaint, Parker felt the otter gently moving his tail slightly upward, and then felt a wet, gentle, probing tongue exploring his tailhole. The protest that had tried to make its way out of the pup's startled brain was replaced with a sharp inhalation and something that could almost be mistaken for a short whine of pleasure.NO,_his mind screamed, _this can NOT feel good... this can't... no...

Whatever his word-using ego brain tried to tell him, his sensation-bound primitive brain was breaking out a whole line of cheerleaders to cry out how good that tongue felt on his tailhole. That thick, warm, wet, almost muscular, definitely talented tongue was making the tight pucker of flesh open just a bit, as if welcoming, as if_wanting..._ Parker fought the idea, knowing the battle was lost from the moment he first felt the otter's tongue, first felt the incredible desire to ease into it, to accept it, to want it, to_relax..._

In the midst of an unbidden urge to push his hips backward to receive the otter's tongue more fully, Parker was surprised to realize that he almost pulled himself back out of the restraining glory hole. Jerry stopped what he was doing for a moment and asked softly, "Going down, isn't it?"

"Yeah." The acknowledgement was weak and raspy from a dry throat.

"Don't hurt yourself. Let's try just a bit more."

Parker almost squealed Yes, please! as the otter returned to his work. Forepaws gripping the top of the stall wall hard enough to make his powerful upper arms shake, the Akita felt himself opening, as if to pull Jerry's tongue deep inside him. The thought made him balk, but still the tongue pushed itself deeper than before, and despite himself, Parker let a small whine escape his lips as his brain exploded with the soft, pressing sensations. He realized that part of him didn't want this to stop, no matter what might...

The otter reached between the Akita's legs and cupped his balls tenderly, moving slightly upward and feeling carefully. "Try it now."

With Jerry pulling gently backward, his gentle webbed forepaw protecting the damp furry ball sack from the edges of the glory hole, Parker moved his hips slowly, and his slick semi-hard cock followed into his own stall with only the slightest remnant of reluctance. The otter moved his paw upward, to caress the diminishing knot with what might be reverence, or at least concern of the condition of the patient. After a moment, the paw withdrew and Jerry stood and stepped just outside of the stall.

"Would you like for me to clean you up a bit? Or I could get some towels, if you prefer."

The pup's brain skipped a beat until he put the ideas together and understood what Jerry meant. Despite his mental protestations, Parker sat on the toilet, his hips pushed forward, presenting his diminishing erection to the otter. Without hesitation Jerry knelt down and began to lick the reddish pink member clean of its accumulation of seed and natural lubricant until the majority of the organ had retreated back into its sheath. With the tender attention providing memories of earlier activities, Parker felt the return of his afterglow, his moments of gratification and ecstasy, and even though his mind tried to keep protesting, he found himself glad to be sharing those moments with Jerry.

"Want to talk?" The golden-furred mustelid still knelt between Parker's legs, his forepaws resting comfortably upon the pup's thighs. The look on his muzzle was as understanding as that of a therapist or a priest. Parker worried himself at the comparison.

"I'm not gay." The Akita returned to the phrase as if it were the only floating object in a vast sea of confusion, and he felt himself clinging to it desperately.

"I know that." Jerry regarded him softly, kindly. "You're wanting to know why it felt so good."

Parker found himself nodding.

"Most of it is physiology." The otter smiled. "Let's say that you're at a party somewhere, and some guy tells you that there's a female in a dark room, behind a screen, and if you put your cock through the glory hole in that screen, she'll suck you off. If you can't see anything, and all you feel is a hot muzzle around you, it's about 10:1 in favor of your having a nice orgasm. Now, if you have misgivings about treating a female as nothing but a sex object, your conscience might prevent you from climaxing, or even going into the room. Many males would convince themselves that it was consensual, and therefore okay. It's that consent that makes the difference. If you were told beforehand that it's a male on the other side, you might not let yourself even go into the room, because that would make it 'gay' and therefore something a good solid heterosexual male would not give his consent to... even though it might be the same experience, physiologically."

"Then why did I come in here?"

"Because you gave yourself consent; you chose not to think about who was on the other side." The smile turned into a grin. "And if I do say so myself, when I get going, there aren't many who could resist my ministrations."

Parker tried to laugh, but he couldn't quite do it. "You rimmed me."

"Yes. And you liked it."

"But I'm not gay."

"Physiology strikes again." Jerry shook his head softly. "If I had tried to penetrate you, you'd have fought back, and it would have been painful... for both of us, if you'll allow me to say. That would almost certainly be beyond your ability to consent to. Strictly from a physiological standpoint, the natural tendency to very soft attention to the tailhole is the desire to relax. It's weird, but it's true. Since you're not gay, I'll let you in on a little secret from the Mauve Mafia: When you want a guy inside you, you have to relax enough to let him in, and that almost always means a softening - if not an outright deflation - of your erection. So I figured I'd see if it would help you get your knot under control." Another smile. "Not that I didn't enjoy it for its own sake, mind you."

The Akita felt the expression on his muzzle change, but he didn't know what he looked like. What he felt like was frightened, tired, anxious, confused.

Slowly, the otter stood and backed out of the stall. "We should get you out of here."

Parker stood, his forepaws moving automatically to pull up and fasten his pants, straighten his shirt, move to check himself in front of the mirror, as if what he had done would somehow show on his face. "Did you really fuck Harris?"

"You don't need to know that."

The answer, delivered almost in a whisper, came across like a slap on the muzzle. Parker felt himself flinch. "What did you do to him?"

"I made him listen. Sometimes, he forgets how to do that." Jerry cocked his golden head to one side. "What about you? Do you have trouble listening?"

"Did you kiss him? Before he left?"

"Maybe. If you say anything about it, we'll both deny it. I can only speak for myself, but Harris might take exception to your long tongue, and I don't care how good you are as a varsity fullback, Parker - Harris can outrun you and overpower you. Be smart. Don't talk about what you don't understand."

"He's gay."

"No, in fact, he's not. Without contraception, he'd have sired a couple of football teams by now. He's so straight, he's almost a razor blade."

Parker's muzzle hung open in disbelief. "Then how... why...?"

"Why did you?"

Silence hung thickly in the air as the Akita weighed his responses. The otter, his shorts and t-shirt in earth colors that made his golden fur that much more lustrous, stood in his own space and power, almost as if Parker could see some kind of aura around him. It made no sense to him; he was an engineering major, not a philosopher or a poet, yet somehow Jerry made the pup think in ways he hadn't been able to think before. Was he drugged? Had the otter somehow...?

"I gotta go."

"I know. But you need to call me."

"I'm not looking for a date."

"But you're looking for answers. Those, I have." The otter produced a small card bearing his name and a cell number. "Before you ask, no, I don't hand these out to everyone. Just a few. But it's good to have them handy."

"I don't want it."

"But you need it." Jerry's eyes, those warm, deep brown eyes, held Parker's own. "You may not want to talk. But you need to talk."

"I'm not gay!"

"We've established that. At least I have. You... maybe that's what you need to talk about." The otter jutted his chin toward the door. "Harris saw you here; you know that I haven't told him anything. Go talk to him first. He'll tell you why you need to talk. He might even tell you about himself, if he thinks he can trust you."

Jerry padded slowly, silently, to stand before Parker, then tucked the card gently into the pup's pants pocket. The Akita let him do it, arms to his side, his tail twitching slightly.

"You go out first," the otter murmured. "I'll hang back a little, make sure we're not seen together. Now go. If you enjoy beer, I'd recommend a nice light ale that won't affront your senses too much, and only one of them for now. It's only late afternoon. Have dinner, relax, get some sleep. Call me anytime."

"Why?"

"Because you're not gay."

Parker felt his ears splay, then perk forward again. The confusion was still with him. He wanted to visit Pris, yet something in his gut said that would be a bad idea. Home. Shower. Long shower.

"Go on, Parker." Jerry smiled. "Unless you think you want a kiss goodbye."

"Like Harris?"

"Not telling."

Slowly, the pup nodded. He understood at least part of what happened. The rest would take time, and time not spent here. He found his legs moving him toward the door, found his paw unlocking it, and found himself in the short hallway leading to the semi-lighted stacks and faintly bookish scent of the library basement. In his detachment from what he was doing, it was only some time later that he realized that he'd come home to his apartment, carefully placed the otter's card next to his cell phone, undressed, and put himself to bed, casually stroking his rock-hard cock as mixed thoughts and memories collided in his head, each vying for the privilege of being the one that would make him tip over into his second, and exceptionally powerful orgasm of the day, after which they continued to argue if there might even be a third...