FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A story for anyone who has ever tried to figure out which supermarket melons were ripest, just as the timed water spritz hit.

There are a few, especially sweet, especially kind people I've met about the community, ones willing to put up with all a bun bun can dish out. That might not seem like a lot, but trust me, I wonder about some of my friends and how easily they seem to handle my acquaintance. I'd be a fool to list them all by name, since I'm sure I'd end up missing someone particularly important.

However, one of those people happens to be a little bloo dawg named FA: Myrilla

Myrilla has been beyond patient with me, both as a friend, and as a commissioner. So, for her birthday, I decided to try something new. This story was written in "real-time." Myr read it as I wrote it on skype, posting paragraph by paragraph, trying her best not to cringe with every typo.

Honestly, it was a lot of fun and one day I might try and do a full commission like this, assuming anyone is interested. The immediacy of it all was fantastic. And now, lets skip all the various warnings and notes about being selective with one's partners, and just get into the fun of a squirming MILF taking everything a bloo can give!

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Birthday Time: Clean Up On Aisle Three by Bishiebunny

Myrilla didn't like to think of it as a hunt, not exactly. A hunt implied a certain level of predation, of devouring the unwary to satisfy only oneself. But tonight was different. Tonight she meant to provide for someone else, to stuff her horn of plenty into someone that had been starved for attention.

If anything, tonight was more about cultivation, seeking out a fertile recipient, and then plowing said recipient right into the ground.

Yes, she liked that image much better. Tonight she would be planting virile seed in a welcoming hole, all to ensure a bountiful harvest. It was almost charitable, when you thought about it, not at all like stalking a chosen watering hole with intent to kill by thrill.

That said, she was dressed for either. Her body was held tightly by a silken garment not designed to be worn except in circumstances of extreme seduction. Up to her throat it went, clinging like a collar, while below, it clutched her jiggling breasts as though it fancied them. And what was there not to enjoy? The girls were especially frisky tonight, every curve she had all jiggling in time with her graceful motion. The cheongsam laced about her person seemed appreciative of every wiggle and sway. Her hips peeked seductively out the sides, giving the barest hint of the top of her smokey colored pantyhose. It would have been a classy look were there not so much of her luxurious, shapely legs showing. As it was, her body created a pendulum by which a soul might be persuaded with her bottom's sinful tick, top's erotic tock.

The fact that she was wearing such an outfit, all dolled up with her hair expertly tied, her make-up finely applied, in a Biggies Ultra-Mega-Store, made her appearance all the more striking.

Myrilla smiled lush lips in anticipation. They were painted a fine electric blue to match her shimmering satin locks of hair. There was a reason to dress for what would assuredly be success, a reason that was much more hunt than gather. It was camouflage, but not the sort meant to blend into the surrounding. If anything, she could not have picked an outfit to stand out more, not here. Here she was utterly surrounded by the lumbering, dazed, dead-eyed denizens of a super store on a Friday night. Oh she was not about to be missed, not here. People looked, though at first, they could not quite figure out what they were seeing as it slinked about. The sensual, bloo apparition seemed to float about, moving from the cereal aisle, than back toward frozen treats, like a poltergeist who specialized in making people's pants move.

Men darted out of the way, skittering to whatever corner was handy, cursing their choice not to shave, or apply deodorant for what they thought was going to be an uneventful night of beef jerky acquisition. Jealous women fussed about with their hair, a few scowling outright, though any who starred too long soon found themselves dry mouthed and confused. Sometimes that dress of hers, with the expertly arranged slits, gave a glimpse of an impossible bulge that slunk and slipped between Myrilla's thighs. Soon, those same women were rushing about like the men, cursing sweat pants and flip-flops, wondering where their lipstick had gotten off to.

They didn't really have to bother. Myrilla paid none of them any more mind than it took to give a lewd wink here, a sinfully direct, playful thrust there. She had a very specific shopping list tonight, and she knew exactly the brand she was after. The rest could watch, if they wanted. Myrilla was anything but shy. However, tonight she knew exactly what she was looking for.

Sooner or later, on a Friday night, at a store this big, her chosen prey was bound to stumble by. It would be a prey dressed much like herself, a prey too pretty, too put together to be spending a weekend's preliminary evening under harsh, fluorescent lights.

And then, just like that, there she was. A woman came into view, one of maybe two or three that had the potential to satisfy Myrilla's very specific hunger. This woman's body was lush, even more so than Myr's own. She had that pleasantly plump shape that came from multiple childbirth, yet restrained by the desire to fit back into last year's jeans. Her bottom was the right sort of wide, fitted beautifully to her hips, swaying with every step and barely contained by a black skirt which had apparently gotten a little snug since it was last worn. The figure's chest was equally full, threatening to spill out of a red blouse that had obviously been open too much in anticipation of a fun night, then hastily shut.

She swayed in a sullen drift, pushing a cart filled with a family's various needs, this exquisite, dark-eyed jewel wandered about the produce aisles, looking lost, alone, yet refusing to let a ruined night ruin her. She was all dolled up but this was obviously not where she had intended to go. Someone had disappointed this raven-haired beauty. Someone had promised her an evening, got her to send the kids away for the night, and then, at the last moment, had deserted her. Someone had spilled a MILF, left her out to spoil. Most importantly, someone had given Myrilla the sweetest succulent one could hope for, and this someone was a fool to think that a little band of gold with a shiny bit of gravel on the top was going to keep her from scooping this morsel up.

The woman squeaked when Myrilla's cart smacked into her own, nearly causing a tumble of curves as both women came into brief, intimate contact.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" Myrilla exclaimed, "Are you alright? This damn wheel, I can barely keep the thing steady." Myr spoke quickly, a hand reaching out to gather what bits of MILF had begun to sway. "It's just the way my night's going, you know? All dressed up, ready to go out, and next thing I know I'm here, shopping with a bad cart and... eh, I won't bore you dear. Have a good evening."

Before Myrilla had detached the silver carts from one another, the dark-haired beauty stopped the bloo-haired woman with a knowing sigh, "You too? Husband or boyfriend?"

Myrilla could only smile, "Does it matter? He's history as far as I'm concerned." Settling her cart, she let her gaze wander about the MILF's body, bold enough to elicit a blush from the other woman. "What about you? You're looking awfully fancy, kid's at their grandma's?" The woman blinked, "How did you kno-"

"Sugar Frosted Cocoa Lumps?" Myrilla grinned, "I dunno, you strike me as a woman with a sweet tooth, but I don't think it's for cereal."

Laughing, the woman sighed, "Ah yes, and they're with their auntie. Tonight was going to be, well... like you said, I won't bore you. I suppose it's not an especially good night for an outing."

"Oh, I don't know, seems like a splendid night to me. So you and your husband had plans, plans that didn't involve double coupons or self check-out. I'm Myrilla, by the way."

"Sheryl, and no, no plans." Sheryl said, the lie plan on her face. Then, her face scrunched up, the fine make-up she obviously had spent an hour on, twisting as the weight of the straw proved more than her camel could carry. "Actually yes, some long-made plans! Plans I had been looking forward to for, well... you'll learn this when your married dear. These were months in the making. When you're dating, a bad weekend just gets averaged in with the rest. When you've driven a few kids to school, it becomes... like, you're only... for... a year I...!"

Myrilla had an arm around Sheryl before she could finish the thought, squeezing their soft bodies together, sharing a universal sisterhood, one whose gaze any passing male would be wise to avoid. "Look, I don't know where you two were headed or what lame excuse he came up with to ditch, but you look fabulous. I look fabulous. what say we look fabulous together?"

"Re-really?" Sheryl smiled weakly, with bright lips that were practically made for kissing. Damn. If her husband wasn't an idiot, he had better be in traction.

"Well, to be fair, I have an ulterior motive for all this," Myrilla smirked, leaning in, her own lush lips playing wetly as they breathed warm air along Sheryl's ear. "I was hoping you might let me, you know, put my meat in your basket."

"Wh-what?" Sheryl's eyes went wide, one hand fumbling at her wedding ring as she tried to lean away from Myrilla's pressing hip.

"My meat, dear? In your basket?" Myrilla pulled back with a smirk, causing her bountiful breasts to bounce within that all-too tight dress. "See, my basket has this wobbly wheel, and I'd just as soon not walk all the way to the front to snag another one."

Sheryl blinked, cheeks flashing crimson, before she burst out in a fit of giggles, "O-oh by all means, fill my basket with your meat." She stepped closer, giving Myrilla's hip a playful bump. "You are a wicked one, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," Myrilla purred, transferring a rather size-able sausage into Sheryl's cart. She paused for a moment, the girthy meat rolling in a tease along her palm, before letting it fall into the MILF's basket with a loud, fleshy thump. "Biggest they had, but bound to be wasted I'm afraid. No one to really share it with."

Eyes fixed on that massive piece of phallic pork by-product, Sheryl couldn't help but titter. "It's probably for the best dear. If your man had to share that with you, he might lose all confidence." Leaning over her cart, one finger dancing along the sausage's tight skin, "And you might be disappointed with whatever he whipped out."

Myrilla faked a blink, then looked back down before shaking her head. "That? Oh dear, I wouldn't accept anything that small from a lover, not if he meant to be on top. That's barely big enough for an appetizer." Leaving Sheryl to gawk, pleased with the little squeak that slipped from the woman's lips, Myr lead the way toward the vegetables, every now and then picking up a particularly plump cucumber or especially thick squash, than tossing it aside as simply too small to be serviceable.

Sheryl squirmed subconsciously, watching Myr select produce, only to reject them for lack of size. Myrilla considered an especially bountiful bunch of bananas, chose the largest of the bunch, than slipped it into the woman's cart. "How's your husband, by the way."

"No where near as big...!" The MILF's eyes went wide, another squeak as her cheeks practically caught fire. "Y-you mean like, how he is? W-where he is, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't expect a stranger to share the intimate details of their partner's equipment, but given he snagged a beauty like yourself, I'm sure he has a sausage of his own." It was almost too easy. The poor woman was obviously frustrated and had been for quite some time. Not that her partner's size really had much to do with her state, but it was the sort of thing that got a woman wondering.

Myrilla did love a wondering woman.

"M-more like a hotdog," Sheryl bit her bottom lip, squirming a bit and tightening her fingers on the cart's rail. "B-but he does well by it, and by me, you know? Well, when he bothers to try. It works well enough, regardless. Couple of kids, can't complain. Not really."

"Was he looking to make a third tonight?" Myrilla winked, leaning against the fresh vegetables, shivering slightly when the automated water pipes began to hiss and mist trickled down the back of her neck.

"He might have gotten the chance, if Bill hadn't lucked into that damn office pool and decided we just had to have a new wide screen." Sheryl grumped, picking up the banana Myr had selected, and idly brushing it along her cheek, before dropping it in disgust. "Apparently you have to hook that sort of thing up, the moment you get it home. No time for candlelight, moonlight, or no lights."

"Really? This man of yours lost his chance to add to his happy brood for the sake of HD and surround sound?" Myrilla crossed one leg over the other, the front of her dress squeezed between her thighs. Something else, something that had been slowly firming since the moment the two had met, was also squeezed. The cobalt blue beast would get its chance, and soon. It only had to be a bit more patient.

"M-maybe he just doesn't want any more children," Sheryl said, worrying at her lip, staining porcelain teeth with ruby red lipstick. "B-but maybe, he just doesn't want any more... me."

Myrilla stood up, placing a supportive, but firm hand on the woman's shoulder. "Absolutely none of that, you hear me?" Myr slipped behind her, and pressed forward, pushing Sheryl into full view of the mirror surrounding the stacked carrots and jumbled potatoes. "Look at that woman, just look at her. Do you think Bill could ever tire of that? That he could ever do anything but be utterly amazed, flabbergasted at the beauty he somehow ended up with? Of course not! Your hubby is lucky and he knows it. It's just been so long, with the kids wandering about, with work, I'm sure he's simply forgotten how to tell you, right? Right?"

Sniffling a bit, then looking, maybe for the first time, in a long time, for her own sake rather than the approval of the world, Sheryl found herself starring at a beauty. More importantly, for once, seeking her own approval, she found it, with herself. The woman in the mirror smiled, "Right." For a moment, she just smiled, before slowly, her confidence began to falter, "I- I should have let him know how important tonight was, or left him more hints or...."

Shaking her head, the blue-haired seductress tsked, "None of that either. Your man should have known, should have put that beautiful bottom of yours before the one he meant to stick on a sofa, watching Sean Bean get beheaded... again." As she spoke, Myrilla pressed forward, pressing something warm, something hard, something impossibly big, snug against the MILF's black skirt, to nestle wickedly between twin cheeks.

"My-Myrilla, wh-what's that?"

Not answering, Myrilla pushed forward a bit more, letting the satin-clad beast press even more intimately, pressing Sheryl's against the rack of produce, licking her lips as the pipes delivered another mist. Only now, they're timed spritz caused the MILF's crimson blouse to dampen, clutching against her curves. "Bill can't be a bad man, or a beautiful and intelligent woman like you wouldn't have picked him." Myr growled, pressing a little more insistently. One hand reached up and wrapped around her partner's, obscuring the woman's wedding ring in her grip. "What he is, sweet Sheryl, is a bad boy."

Sheryl's eyes had gone wide at the first press, growing wider as her body tried its damnedest to first figure out this hard heat pressed so sinfully, affectionately against her rear. When it finally came to grips with the inescapable conclusion, her brain shifted gears, forcing every synapse to focus on comprehending the size of the cock behind her. And it was most definitely a cock. Nothing else felt like that, pulsed like that, was hot enough to melt her deepest and darkest, quite like that. "Myrilla," she repeated, though she hardly needed an answer anymore, "What is that?"

Myrilla leaned in, nuzzling sweetly at her soon-to-be lover's throat, "It's bigger than a sausage, I can guarantee you that." As she spoke, one hand slipped up, catching the MILF's left breast and squeezing it through her damp blouse, teasing and flicking with an expert touch. Her other hand moved down, seeking the hem of Myr's own pantyhose, tugging the stretchy fabric over the edge, then letting it go with a snap, freeing her cock while getting a deliciously vicious nylon-snap across heavy balls. "But we're talking about bad boys, dear. Bad boys are terrible, but they can be taught, disciplined. We don't have to get rid of a bad boy. We just have to know how to properly punish one."

Sheryl squirmed, at first trying to pull away, then just slumping forward as another spray of cool water caused her body to shiver with chill externally, while internally, every possible erotic pyre had been well lit. She wanted to deny what was happening, to tell this terrible tease of a woman, a woman with a cock mind you, but still quite definitely a woman, to go fuck herself. But it was so much more enticing to tell, no, to beg this beast to fuck Sheryl, instead. "How do we," she gasped, finding her bottom instinctively pressing and grinding against the massive girth behind. "How do we punish him," she finished in a near whisper.

"MMm, we take away his toys, make an absolute mess of them," Myrilla grunted, bouncing a wet breast in one hand, stroking and teasing, pulling at the aroused nipple with a pinch and a tug, "then we push his nose into it." She smiled at the image, knowing just how literal she meant it to be, before her other hand slipped down, pulling Sheryl's black skirt up and over, exposing a ridiculously round, ridiculously plump bottom to the air, and her all too ready cock. "My my, and what a mess it'll be. I do hope he didn't spoil his appetite with a big meal."

Before the MILF could really process Myrilla's words, or their implication, all thought, all coherency, all sense of past or future, was slammed right out of her body. The cock-head that pushed wickedly against her dribbling sex was inescapable, and without mercy. It slapped along juice leaking folds, pressed them to either side before pulsing merrily with a succubi's heart beat. Then it pierced the an erotic entrance that had only ever had three other occupants before. Up and inside, it strained, this mushroom cap, fat as a small man's fist, yet giving and supple. Finally, Myr's dark plum popped within, spreading out, taking ownership of her shuddering tunnel. "Oh god! Fuuuuccckkk me... t-that... no wonder," she gasped, "no wonder you expect... you're men... to be... so big."

"Nnnfff," Myrilla groaned, delighting as she slunk forward, pressing one of those merry silver hoops up inside of the woman's body. All over her cock, Sheryl's inner walls squirmed at the intruder. Her lover's insides always did that whenever they felt Myr's piercings. "Nnnng.. w-well love, I don't expect the men," she grunted, "to be a match for me. Smaller guys have their place too." Pulling back, Myr thrust forward again, pressing more inches, more hoops, up inside of the gasping beauty before her.

So much of it, so much cock, so big and oh god, those little metal bits! Never could Sheryl have guessed what it might feel like, to be this full, to be stretched this far. She just knew if she looked down, she might see the bulging imprint of that big, bad cock, tunneling sinfully inside. It was too much! She was already starting to quiver, to tighten, to gasp and squirm in a sudden, inescapable orgasm. Her hands clutched the edge of the vegetable rack tightly as she tried to do anything, say anything to distract herself from a world gone so bright with pleasure, it was almost agony, "W-where is that?"

"MMm, same place you are right now, love." Myrilla laughed in a thick, throaty reply. Pulling back, pushing forward, she began the process, the meat and potatoes of fucking a writhing MILF into oblivion. Slapping up and in, feeling her cock head hit that intimate inner gate. She pulled back once more and then, up and in, letting Sheryl's body try its damnedest to become accustomed to its latest stretch. Slap, up and in, thrust, in and out, Myrilla gathered herself for long, punishing saws of her thick cock inside of her partner's warm, wet, welcoming body.

God damn, why did all MILFs have to feel so good? It was almost as if their husbands had gotten them ready, prepared them specifically to fall madly, passionately onto Myr's cock. She really ought to thank them sometime. In Bill's case, having provided this beauty, Myr felt she might have to that thanking in a rather direct way.

Sheryl was lost, utterly adrift. Just when she thought she had come to grips with the beast within, something new would happen. Myrilla might squeeze her breasts, or spank her wide, bouncing bubbly bottom that was so sweetly pillowing Myr's shaft. Or maybe the damn water jets would go off again, or she might just poke her palm on a pineapple. It was hard to say, harder to think. There was just so much of it, pulsing, churning, tunneling inside of her. Her sex was absolutely dripping in feminine spill and the gathering pre of the cock within. She whimpered softly, "N-not inside, Myrilla. Cumming, I mean, it-it's not a good time."

Myrilla grunted, leaning forward, lips running wet and slick along her lover's ears. "Are you kidding? It's the best time. You wanted a third, right?" Slap, thrust, grunt and pull, their bodies collided, till Sheryl was practically standing on her tiptoes. "That's exactly what you're going to get," another thrust, the hand at Sheryl's breast slipping away.

The well-pounded MILF squeaked, unable to respond, or even begin to deny. A cock that virile, pumping her this hard? How could she deny such a thing? How could anyone do anything but give that plundering shaft everything it wanted, even a bit of her heart? Still, what was Myr doing, fumbling around in her purse. Oh god! "Not m-my phone!"

"Mmm, loved the way you beg sweetheart, but I think this is for the best," Myrilla grunted, nipping playfully at her lover's ear before pulling out Sheryl's phone. "Bill, huh?" Another thrust, "It's not punishment love, if he don't know what he's missing." Another slap, a fat pearl of cum tumbling from the tip of Myr's cock and landing wetly within. "Besides, we can't make him part of it if it's a secret, now can we?"

The last was said in such a hushed, sinful whisper, there was simply no more will left in Sheryl to counter. She submitted, utterly and completely, to the woman above, the woman whose cock was remaking her inner flesh so beautifully in its own image. Another orgasm rocked every corner of the MILF's inner world, calming just enough to shiver and shake yet again, when she heard the dial tone, the ring, and the inevitable pick up.

"Hihi, Bill is it? How's the flat-screen? Got those HDMI cables figured out? I tell you, those things are a god send!" As she spoke, Myrilla thrust forward and up, practically raising Sheryl's body by the sheer force of her aroused cock, making the voluptuous being underneath her squeal and groan, loud enough to be heard. "Oh don't worry about who this is, we'll be getting to know one another, really well, really soon." Another thrust, now slowing down, one hand reaching to expose more of her lover's backside. "Your wife tells me you're a bad boy, and that you should be sent to bed without any supper."

Sheryl cried out as another orgasm rocketed through her, causing one foot to raise, her shoe clattering to the floor, her toes bunching up the ends of her tan thigh-highs. Her cheeks red, both bottom and top, she didn't even try to hide the shout of elation. If anything, it prompted her to cry out, loud and firm, "Oh god yes, Myrilla, more! Fu-fuck me!"

"Now see, Bill, I don't think that's fair," Myrilla grinned, hand squeezing Sheryl's bottom, then giving it a sudden spank that landed with a firm, wet pop. "I don't believe in sending any child to bed without supper." Slow but steady, hard and deep, she rose up and in, ground and pulled back. With one hand, she flipped on the camera function, beginning to fire off shots of the MILF's bountiful bottom, complete with several red hand prints glowing upon the jiggling flesh, and of course, the sight of her all too-thick cock, slamming inside. "So I'm making you something nice, and hot," with every word, she thrust in a bit harder, a bit deeper, "and I expect you to swallow every single drop."

Myrilla exploded, her cock coming alive within Sheryl's writhing form. It jerked, lumbered forward and then expelled a molten rope of virile, sticky seed to slap violently against the back of her lover's womb. And then again, and again, she pulled back just enough so that the phone's camera got a perfect shot of her massive shaft, swelling and expelling what must be at least a gallon of searing, potent Myr cum.

The phone went quiet as Myrilla sent the images to the befuddled husband, let him digest each one as she indulged, lingered in shock and aftershock of her well-spent cock. Finally, with a groan, she pulled out, letting off a deluge of spent semen to gurgle past Sheryl's well abused, gaping lips, to tumble down her thighs. That made for the best image of them all, something to tide Sheryl's husband over, until he could experience it up close, and ever so personal. "We'll be over in about an hour. I expect you to be well prepared young man. Don't disappoint her again, or me even once.

"A bad boy gets punished, Bill. But a good boy, who is ready and waiting? He gets to watch."

End