FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I want to tell you about summer on Earth.

My people enjoy a brief period of great warmth on our planet, and we call this time 'summer'. Daylight lasts much longer, the plants are coming out of spring, and it's typically a time of celebration for the people. I remember my childhood where I'd go down to the beaches and frolic in the crystal waters beneath a valiant sky. It was always challenging to get a day of perfect weather; a dotting of clouds, wispy enough not to bode rain but enough to provide the coolest of breezes. Let me tell you, son, if you were able to walk barefoot across those glowing sands... It's a sensation unlike any other. The beaches here are craggy, formed by eroded cliffs that have turned the bays into pebbled shores. Oh no, Thralan, the beaches of Earth are beautiful. My home, a small fishing village, had a picturesque shore: pure white sand stretching from one horizon to the other, basking in heat and with a crisp sea salt hue in the air. On those perfect days, I loved nothing more than to take off my sandals, bury my feet in the sodden, warm sand and run for as long as I could through the tide. As a kid, there was nothing better than that feeling of absolute freedom, fleeting as it was but encapsulated in that tiny moment. The wind rushing through your hair, clothes spattered by errant brine, feet dirtied by grains - I wish I could show you. I wish I could go home and show you what it's like, Thralan. Part of me wonders if those beaches are still there to today. My last memory of Earth was upon a beach.

One particular tradition is quite similar to one here on Timora. Summer brought many things, from paddling pools to sunbathers, but one was a welcome favourite, especially amongst children. You'll laugh when I tell you this, but ice cream was a delicacy of my people. Yes, I know, what in the King's name is ice cream? Frozen milk, not quite, but close; it's immensely tricky to make, very easy to get wrong, but tastes delightful once perfected. You could give it any flavour, provided it's sweet, and put all sorts of toppings on. I know it sounds stupid to you, but from the first mouthful you fall in love. After many years, my people had created a huge variety, from the luxuriously creamy to the fruitiest concoctions. If you ever get the chance son, then snag yourself a pot of ice cream with the names 'Ben' and 'Jerry' on it. It won't make sense now, but trust me, if you do, it'll be like paradise in your maw. Not that the chances are high for seeing Earth-food out this far. It's hard enough even to find scrap parts let alone dairy products. The only way you'd understand how much ice cream means to me and summer is if you think about how the festival of Kings, where as a cub you used to beg me and your father bake royal crotanes. I'll never understand the appeal of those - they taste bitter and have the texture of sawdust - but you adore them. It's the same with humans and ice cream. Don't ever try and get in the way of one when ice cream is involved - it's about as murderous as your father gets when somebody pinches his last crotane.

Why am I telling you this on your birthday? Because you're becoming a man now, and it's important that you know about my last summer.

Don't think your father and I don't know about your little midnight excursions. We've caught you sneaking off with that rebel bull from the market. Whoever makes you happy, as we've always said - personally speaking, you've got great taste in men. But we're worried... I understand you're beginning to harbour resentment for the King. I know how it feels, living under an oppressive rule; my dad was an advocate of the Human Faction. Even after they left, my choice of friends was limited and my free time controlled. I was a prisoner in my home. You have a lot more freedom than I did, so use it wisely. That bull has probably said that the King isn't a legitimate ruler, that he's self-imposed... a tyrant, and whilst it's all true, don't do anything risky. I know you feel that your father is a spineless coward for serving in the King's Men. You think he sold himself out so he could have a family, reduced to a tame, docile teddy rather than the proud bear he ought to be. Well, frankly Thralan, you're wrong. But I'm not going to give you some cushy spiel about how he loves you very much, because if you haven't grasped that then I've been a terrible dad.

It was the last summer I spent on Earth - the best we'd had in years. It had been practically perfect, aside from one or two muggy days. The longest summer in years, or so the news channels had claimed... the hottest temperatures since record began! Something like that... but I had turned nineteen, and I was back from my first year at uni. It's short for university; places people go to receive special education. Kind of like the scholars we have, like how you plan on attending Temple someday. Anyway, I was on the beach with friends, some of my closest friends. We were spending a day out, just chilling by the sea, and watching the sunset for what could be the last time we were truly young, dumb, and free. It's ironic, but it genuinely was a totally normal day, where it felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, it had to though.

The day turned to carnage when the King's Men arrived. I won't bore you with the details as your father could probably give a more thrilling account of what happened, but to get to the point, the Crown invaded Earth. Nearly two hundred years after the Grand War, the peace was shattered in a couple of hours. Not that peace was very stable. Honestly, all the King's Men did was take a chisel to some already cracked glass and gave it a tap.

I was still on the beach by the time the troops descended. My friends, what was left of them after the bombardment, had fled home. I remained, transfixed as drop-ships floated down from the crowded sky of Cruisers. Even when the pod sunk into the sand, I didn't run; I just stood and stared as the ship's doors opened. There, the first soldier out onto what was, to him, an alien planet, was your father. In all his glory, armour shining in that beating sun and his cute nose sniffing the sea air and sampling for himself my last summer. When his eyes set on me, there was a moment of hesitation. I was barefoot, as always, and dressed in what was left of my clothes, my chest bare and shorts ripped. I must have looked pitiful to him, but he gazed at me with such kindness and love. On Earth, we have a saying: love at first sight. I had thought it a myth, perpetrated to make people believe in poor romance, but there it was happening right in front of me. Though he made a ruse of 'arresting' me as a prisoner of conquest, he snuck away from the invasion and took me to a small secluded cove.

It was there I felt him press up against me, my back flat on damp rock, his hot armour pinning me. His lips met mine and he kissed me delicately, tenderly, but full of passion. I couldn't believe myself, eager to be ravaged by this walking talking bear. I kid you not when I say this, but for us, species such as yourself only existed in fictional stuff. When I look back at those days when I met Urtal, I must've seemed fucked up. But I couldn't help myself. He had a gorgeous face, with caramel brown fur that was glossy and soft to the touch. I spent all the time running my hands through his silky fur, even as he pounded me senseless, never stopping whatsoever in fear that I'd wake up, realising it was all some dream. The only times I ever touched something else was when I took a hold of your father's member, stroking it until he was growling like a feral beast. As the sun drifted deeper into the horizon, rays casting into the small cove we were in, I sat astride his lap and lowered myself down onto that impressive cock. It was so big... not length-wise, but fat. I'd never taken anything that thick before, and even years later it still makes me moan every time he fucks me. Don't pull a face; I could call him in here and have him describe it in much more vivid detail, so be lucky I'm the one giving this talk.

I spent all day with him there, kissing over and over, his cock ploughing my ass again and again. His stamina was miraculous. I lost count how many times he bred me. Sometimes I rode him, other times he had me face-first against the cool rock, looking out across the beach I had grown up on, wondering how bizarre and amazing my summer was turning out to be as he rammed his meat home into me. My body was overflowing and smothered in his seed, his very virile seed, and as the final call came for the soldiers to return to the drop-ships, I was lying in his arms, panting breathlessly with my hole dripping with his spooge across his gut, simply talking. But then he had to leave, of course, and it saddened me to bid farewell to a man who was supposed to incarcerate me as spoils of war. I had to hide what had happened from my family as I slept that night in the local Church - our home had burnt down from the mortars.

A week later and he visited me whilst I was tending to the repairs of the town. Surrender had been officiated, leaving Earth and its people unharmed so long as they pledged allegiance to the Crown. I don't need to tell you that though, you've had history lessons on the King's conquests.Urtal came to me and said that he'd been allowed leave as rewards from the throne, time he wanted to do nothing more than spend with me. I bet you can imagine what we got up to, but if you really must know, again talk to your father. Even now, he tells me those few weeks are the fondest memories he has of Earth and of us rutting like animals.

However, it transpired though that Timoran physiology is a little different to humans... Aggressive and potent, in order to procreate, Timoran DNA force the cells of others to adapt. That's why the hospitals are bitchy over blood transfusions, since you're always complaining about filling out medical forms. Timoran blood can rework any species into some failed hybrid. But that first week with your father had done greater damage than just leave me waddling around with my ass gaping and leaking cum. After a month, doctors confirmed that through a freak of nature, I was pregnant - pregnant of course, with you. Your father vowed his life to you, still unborn, in my gut above that of the Crown. If you were ever to fall into trouble with the throne, he would be there to protect you, mark my words. He despises their reign just as much as you. His paws are tied though, raised as an orphan in the military, through that program; he had little choice but to obey. Do you want to know one thing though, Thralan? He's never made a single arrest in his life. Not one.

That last summer on Earth for me was the greatest, and I like to think that out there, on other planets, there are others experiencing their last summers before their knights in shining armour saves them under the summer sun.