FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 1

Something Different

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As the above implies, this is chapter one of a short series of chapters that I've recently begun working on. I'm not completely sure where I want to go with this one. It was loosely inspired by a dream that I had recently, and I figured that this could be something interesting to write, as well as be a good way to jump back into the whole scene of writing stories, and posting them.

The story has elements of man on man action, so if that's not your thing, don't read or leave nasty comments and all that good stuff. If you like or anything, feel free to leave a comment or fav. I appreciate all the feedback that I get. So, enjoy.

~Ogi

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A tear streamed down Rogers cheek slowly, followed by whimpers and chokes which gave way to more tears. He tried to keep them from escaping. His body trembled violently, and he felt like he was gritting his teeth so tightly that his gums would bleed. His heart hammered and his blood rushed through his ears, that and the soft chirping of crickets being the only sound that he could hear. The eerie silence was helping to make nasty feeling in his stomach.

How had it all come to this?

Dressed in the best clothing that he could find in his minor fashion-sensible closet, he had been completely set to come out tonight. The unbuttoned black dress shirt with the blue undershirt, along with a pair of black shorts accented well against the polar bears white fur. He had spent about fifteen minutes in front of the mirror in his apartment's bathroom -making him feel like such a fucking girl- just to make sure that he felt completely put together. His hair was stylized in a short, spiky Mohawk with lightly frosted blue tips. He had even gone so far as to purchase a pair of blue stud ear rings, all in a hope to complete his black and blue ensemble. When he had been all finished, the twenty three year old bear had smiled at himself in the mirror. He looked good.

When he had arrived at the warehouse for this occasion, the lump which he had felt in his throat only managed to expand. He wasn't usually one to go to random raves set up on the internet, located in shady warehouses near the docks, but then again, nothing about this night was particularly normal for him. He didn't normally go out like this to begin with. But he had needed it...He had needed this night for himself. To make himself feel good...For fucking once.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he approached the guy standing out front of the building; a very tall, very built husky. Roger forced himself to ignore the intimidation he felt at the rough look the guy gave him, and showed his I.D. For a moment the guy looked like he was going to rebuke him. Roger had a boyish face, and that had wound up causing people to mistake his age on more than one occasion. Still, either because he believed the I.D. or simply didn't care, he let Roger pass, even going so far as to swat the bear on the ass, to which Roger blushed hotly underneath his fur.

"Have a good time, cub." he said in a deep and seductive tone.

Upon entry, Roger got exactly what he had expected. Loud, blaring music varying from trance to dubstep and just about everything in-between. He could feel the vibrations coursing through his veins, and for a moment he felt like he was going to sick up. That was the nervousness more than anything though, and he knew that. So he steeled himself, and made his way through the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor-which was really just the whole damn floor- to reach the left side of the building where a makeshift bar was set up. There weren't many people sitting around there; most of the others there were dancing. The few that were sitting were all engrossed in flirtatious conversation with each other, the varying degrees of touching going on being dependent on the amount of alcohol consumed multiplied by how horny they were. He spotted two males seated on the far end of the bare closest to the dance floor, one with his hand pushed inside the others pants, gyrating his wrist. Roger assumed they had reached their recommended limit in terms of alcohol, though perhaps they were just voyeurs.

Granted, that display wasn't the worst he had seen so far -Notably a female canine of some sort going down on a male canine in a corner that they thought was secluded. The dancing on the floor itself was borderline sexual in itself. People usually came to places like this for two reasons, and those were to get drunk and fuck. Hell, that's why Roger himself was there; to get hammered and his rocks off.

Sliding onto one of the bar stools, he sat quietly and waited for the bartender, a twinkish Otter, to finish up with another order. He was a pretty lithe fellow, though still somewhat compact in his frame like some otters were. Roger wouldn't call him chubby, like he himself was, but he wouldn't exactly call the guy skinny. Wearing a fishnet top and some ass hugging shorts shorter than Rogers own, it was obvious that he was very comfortable with his body. Roger felt himself ogling that ass when the otter bent over to retrieve something from below the counter, and he quickly diverted his attention when he felt his lower region reacting to it. Sure, boners weren't out of place her, but he never liked to leer.

When the otter had finished with another customer, he turned his attention to Roger, offering him a warm, beaming smile, and showing off some of the nicest teeth Roger had ever seen.

"And what can I get you cutie?" the otter asked, winking at Roger. Up close, Roger took a moment to get a good look at the bartender, taking in his charming features; those striking blue eyes aside. They were more of an icy blue than Rogers were, and they stood out well against the otters brown coat. He had short, curly hair which reached the back of his neck. His face was trimmed well, no obvious signs of a beard or mustache in sight. The bear usually wasn't one to judge, but this guy looked younger than even he did.

"Are you legally allowed to serve alcohol in the state of Kentucky?" Roger asked, trying his best to be a bit brazen and above all, converse. The otter's eyes widened before he laughed softly, idly cleaning a glass.

"Hon, there's a lot more illegal stuff going on here than me serving alcohol. And speak for yourself, you don't look a day over eighteen." The otter retorted, giving another wink. Roger felt a smile tugging at his mouth, and decided to let it come, even going as far as bearing his teeth slightly.

"I'm twenty-three" he said, leaning his elbows on the counter.

"Twenty four." The otter replied, bowing his head in a victorious manner.

"Bullshit."

"Bullshit nothing. Want to see my I.D.?"

"Me seeing it doesn't matter if it's fake."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, but I will call you cute."

The otter blushed and shook his head slowly, chuckling as smiling. He finally realized just how long he had been cleaning that glass, and sat it down behind the counter with a small shake.

"Alright Mr. Flirt, what can I get ya?"

"Something heavy."

"Problems in your life?"

"A couple..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"To a stranger?"

"I'm a bartender, hon. Some guy just told me he was wrestling with his sexuality."

"What'd you tell him?"

"To go fuck a guy and find out if he liked it."

"That's pretty straight forward."

"I'm pretty straight forward."

Roger stared at the otter in one part disbelief, and the other part astonishment. This guy was telling the truth. Granted, he hadn't had any reason to lie, but he was being genuine in what he was saying...

"Well...I actually just bro-"

"BARTENDER! I need a round of shots!"

The overly intoxicated and slurred voice was loud enough to drown out the music in Rogers immediate area for a moment, and he turned sharply around in his seat to see a lion with a slicked back mane just about stumbling up to bar. He was rather built, a few inches taller than Roger and displaying a lot of muscle though his sleeveless shirt. Trailing along behind him by the hand was a very thin bunny boy, looking rather annoyed and embarrassed.

"Barry..." the bunny said in an exasperated tone, clutching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I think you've had enough, come on. Stop while you're ahead." The lion either didn't hear what was said or didn't care, because he certainly didn't respond. The bartender sighed and looked at the lion with a frown.

"I'm handling another customer at the moment, sir, and I think your companion is right. You look proper shit faced to me. Had I known you were such a lightweight, I wouldn't have given you the drinks that I did." Roger blinked at the curt response that the otter gave the lion -Barry- again feeling some astonishment. He certainly wished that he could be that direct with people. However, in this situation, he might have avoided it. The lions partying demeanor shifted quickly, and he frowned darkly at the otter.

"Look, twinkie, just gimmie another Bud, and I'll be out of your hair." He said in a low town, a soft growl rising up from his chest. Roger immediately felt some apprehension being so close to a quickly growing situation, but the bartender just laughed right in the lions face.

"Twinkie huh? That one's actually new. I kind of expected you to go for fag or something..." the otter retorted almost absently. None the less, his attitude didn't change. "Still, not giving you another drink, bub. You want more; you'll have to get it from somewhere else."

The lion bore his teeth at the bartender, and for a moment, Roger thought that he was going to launch himself over the counter. After a moment, and some more near silent urging from the bunny behind him however, he turned around, this time actually saying "Fag" roughly under his breath. The bunny trailed along behind him, nearly being dragged by the wrist as they went. Roger visibly relaxed and exhaled harshly.

"You okay there Mr. Flirt?" the bartender asked, turning his attention back to Roger. The bear nodded his head slowly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just not a big fan of tense situations..." he said softly, feeling somewhat embarrassed at being seen like that. The otter chuckled lightly.

"That's fine, though you look like you could hold your on in a scuffle."

"I don't want to have to." Roger replied with a shake of his head.

"Fair enough." Replied the otter, before he blinked and fell into a low fit of laughter. "I just realized, I never gave you my name Mr. Flirt, and you never gave me yours. I'm Jeremy." He extended his slender hand out to Roger for a shake.

"My names Roger." The bear replied, taking the offered hand and shaking it, smiling once again.

"Roger, huh? Alright then. Well now, how's about that drink, huh?"

The time he spent at the bar was nice, simply chatting with Jeremy while he was between customers and nursing on the drinks he ordered. After another thirty minutes, and feeling sufficiently buzzed from his two drinks, Jeremy had shocked him back asking if he wanted to dance. Roger commented that he wasn't particularly one for dancing, but the otter had insisted on it. Roger had countered, asking how exactly the otter was going to dance while he had to deal with the bar, but a quick phone call, discussing with someone how he had the cutest little bear here who he wanted to dance with, and a small bout of blackmailing about the rent, a skinny tiger with rainbow colored hair came strolling up out of the throng of bodies, he too wearing a fishnet top and even shorter shorts than Jeremy.

"You are such a bastard, Jeremy." He said harshly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring hotly at the otter. Jeremy simply rolled his eyes.

"Don't be so bitchy, Daren. I might actually forget that you don't have a vagina." Jeremy replied with a grin. The tiger stuck his tongue out, but then smiled when he saw Roger sitting there looking somewhat nervous.

"Well, you better get laid for my sake Jeremy. I was this close to getting it good from this really ripped dobie. He was gonna treat me right." Daren replied, getting a far off look in his eyes as he seemingly unconsciously groped himself.

"Well, you can get your tail stuffed later, slut. I'm off to dance." Jeremy said, actually hopping over the counter and grabbing Roger by the collar of his shirt before he could say anything in protest.

"You're a slut!" Daren called after them, but Roger barely heard him as he and Jeremy were consumed by the throng of dancing bodies.

Roger was glad for the few drinks he had at the bar. He had never been much of a dancer, and that coupled with his distinct aversion to crowds, and a nervousness so strong that he tended to feel like everyone was staring at him, he knew for a fact that he would have never gotten out there sober. Upon reaching the middle of the dance floor -He assumed it was the middle; it was just about impossible for him to actually know-Jeremy let go of Rogers hand, and immediately there was no such thing as personal space between then. Jeremy turned his back to Roger, and backed up hard, that firm yet spongy butt of his pressed to Roger's groin and grinding with fervor. Roger had hoped that they might start things off slowly, but he surmised that nothing went slowly here. Gulping, he began an awkward gyration of his own hips, trying to find some rhythm in himself and to the music. He felt subtle vibrations from the otter's body, and when Jeremy leaned back fully, bringing Rogers chest flush with his back, he brought an arm up and hooked it behind Roger's neck. This brought them infinitely closer and Roger felt his face heating, and his pants becoming much tighter.

"Just relax big guy...You like this, don't cha?" Jeremy said, loud enough to be heard over the music, yet somehow in a soft tone. Roger nodded to him slowly.

"Yeah...I do..." he replied, slowly sliding his hands up to grasp the otters hips. Jeremy purred softly and leaned his head back, exposing his neck, which Roger took full advantage of and nuzzled his muzzle there. He breathed, taking in the otters scent-earthy and sweaty, with a subtle hint of what he could only conclude as strawberry- and exhaled through his nose. The otter shivered when Roger put his lips against his flesh and nipped softly.

"You're getting me hot big guy..." Jeremy murmured. Roger responded with a soft growl, nipping his neck again before he brought a hand down on Jeremy's crotch. The otter gasped, grinding his erection through his shorts into that touch and then back, sandwiching Roger's own hard on between his cheeks.

"Fuck..." Roger moaned in Jeremy's ear, for a moment, feeling like he might literally spunk his pants right there on the dance floor. Suddenly, the otter moved and Roger's grip on him slipped, and before the bear could wonder what had happened, he felt soft lips against his own. His eyes widened, realized that Jeremy was kissing him. A part of him thought that this was too fast, but then, thinking back to the fact that he had just been dry humping the otter, he ignored that silly thought and returned the kiss eagerly. Moments past, and the people kept moving around them. Jeremy slowly broke the kiss and looked up at him, blushing.

"I would say that I'm sorry...But I'm not." The otter said, groping at the tent in Roger's shorts with vigor.

"Straight forward, right?" the bear responded with a toothy grin.

"Damn straight big guy. Let's get outa here."

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So, there's Chapter 1. Pretty hot n' heavy, huh? Like I said at the beginning, comment and fav and what not if you liked, and all comments (Except useless nasty ones) are appreciated. Thanks a bunch for your time.

~Ogi