FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Contains m/f anthro-nonanthro scenes, must be of legal age to view. Constructive comments are welcome, [email protected] Enjoy!

It was a cold, dark night as the colt shuffled home. His hands were in his pockets, his ears bent down in the wind. Rain dripped off his cold ears, his shoulders were hunched and shivering. He sighed, pressing onwards towards the bus stop. He finally arrived at the deserted street corner as the wind blew down a branch, catching the power line and knocking out the streetlight. Alone in the dark, huddled out of the wind the young horse waited patiently for the bus to arrive. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and watched the rain drip from his nose.

Deacon was very upset. He had gotten into a fight over something stupid at lunch, he didn't remember what. Maybe it was the crackers... yes, that was it. The husky had taken the crackers from his tray and laughed as he ate them in front of him. Deacon sighed quietly... he had just stood up for himself and look where it had ended him. Alone at night, trying to catch a ride back home after spending the entire afternoon and evening scrubbing the gym floor. It was the first time he had ever had detention, and he never wanted to go through that again. The entire time the husky had growled at him or shot him nasty looks. All Deacon did was pin his ears at the dog and boom, three more hour's detention. The husky laughed as he walked out to catch the late bus, but Deacon had to suffer through even more.

The colt didn't plan on being so late, nor had he planned on it raining. It was supposed to be a beautiful afternoon, and it had been. It only started pouring a little while ago, and November nights weren't known for being mild. His light tee-shirt and torn jeans were no defense against the cold, and he had worked hard to prevent his winter coat from growing in. He loved the look and feel of his short, fine fur as he admired himself in the mirror at night. He ran for miles every day to get into the fine shape he was in; lean body with sharply defined muscles. Thoroughbred all the way through... lean mean running machine. But he had missed his snack, dinner, and munchies because of the detention, and he had already run his miles today. Deacon was far too tired and hungry to run the 20 miles home.

But it looked like he had to, so he sighs to himself again and slowly leaves the shelter of the bus stop. The city busses were far from reliable. Besides, they didn't go near his house anyways, they just brought him halfway. Deacon knew some short cuts that would take some of the time off, but it meant cutting through some fields. That's okay... he knew his way around.

Deacon set off at a slow trot, the sound of his new shoes clicking in the darkness. His jeans rubbed against him uncomfortably, far too tight for his liking. He ran in shorts in the early morning, his glistening fur ablaze in the early sun, his chest muscles rippling like restrained snakes. None of those thick heavy burdens his draft friend had, his were light and sleek, just the way the colt wanted them. He shivers uncontrollably, his useless clothing causing friction and rubbing very rudely. He slows his trot and pauses, the pitch black making him think. Deacon sighs yet again, and slowly strips of his constricting pants and his dripping shirt, shoving them into his soaking wet knapsack. He is still an anthro horse, and has no worries about being indecent. His sheath is nicely positioned and quite functional, hiding his formidable equipment from view, even assuming there was anyone out here to see it on this stormy night.

The bay colt picks up his trot again and moves out alongside the road. The rare car flashes by, splashing cold water on the young colt. He starts to shiver as he runs, stumbling in the darkness. Deacon continues on doggedly, finding the first major intersection. Its two tiny little roads, but it's a marker for the trail he has to find. He reins himself down to a walk and starts squinting, looking for the telltale sighs. There it is... he picks up his pace again as he stumbles through the woods. Two miles down, 18 to go... Deacon keeps a slow but steady pace, his hooves landing hard with every step. Another mile down the road and his breath starts to sound ragged. There, the next intersection... he takes a right turn into a small thicket and works his way to the next path. Its small, and hard to find, but in a minute or two the colt manages to find it. Thank goodness for all the times he's gotten lost before. Deacon smiles to himself, his ears quivering with the cold as he struggles on.

Another mile down the road finds the young colt struggling for breath. Deacon's teeth start to clatter as he pushes on. "I can't do this much longer", gasps the small thoroughbred. He takes a tumble, catching a hoof on an exposed root and faceplanting in a puddle of mud. He slowly picks himself up, mud covering his bay body, masking his points. Deacon sighs again, his black stockings now melding into the rusty brown of the mud. The colt's ears perk as he hears a low sound coming from not far away. Hooves planted, heart pounding, the colt pauses to listen. A low moo comes again... Farmer Healthcliff's farm! And more importantly, shelter! Deacon shakes himself off and struggles down the path looking for the barn he knows is close. The farmer doesn't like his family; he uses his animals hard, refusing to give any quarter to the whole animal rights issue. Anthro's were pushing hard for them, but Healthcliff was of an older generation, ill-tolerating of the newer generation.

The colt creeps through the clearing, looking for the barn. A glimmer of light twinkles through the rain... that must be the farmer's house. Deacon walks slowly, then stifles a swear as he stubs his toe. The barn! He creeps around the building looking for an entrance, shivering nonstop as his teeth clatter. Deacon finds the door and carefully opens it just enough to slip inside.

The silence of the barn hit him like a brick. As Deacon closed the door, the rain was shut out and the soft sound of barn life welcomed him. He lifted his nose to smell, trying to place all the different scents. Sheep, cows, even a horse or two moved in the darkness. He shivered, teeth chattering in the quiet. Quiet shuffling in the darkness and the occasional animal noise was all that could be heard, the dim tapping of the rain fading to the background. The wet colt was shaking like a leaf now as he stumbled into the aisle.

Darcy had had several calves over her life, and knew when a fellow animal was in trouble. She knows the signs of hypothermia, and knows that the little colt is in dire straights. She reaches over the divider and bits the colt's skin, pulling him closer to her. She isn't blessed with bipedal legs like this little horse, but she does what she had to and pulls him close. Deacon was surprised at the bite and yank, but is too tired and weak to do anything about it. The Holstein looks at him with her large concerned eyes and starts to lick him. The warm touch makes him nicker softly in pleasure. She curls her neck around his thin chest and tucks him in close. Her soft fur is warm and dry, contrasting sharply with the cold metal bar separating them. The shivering colt bends over and slips through the low stall pipes and rests his chin on the cow's warm body. She bends herself around him, licking his back and slowly warming him up. She moves to a clean spot in the stall and gently lays down in the shavings, inviting him to sit next to her. Deacon, still shaking violently, moves to sit between her legs. He smiles up at the giant head staring at him in the darkness, his wet fur steaming from her heat. After a few minutes lightning strikes in the distance, rumbles of thunder shaking the air.

The storm gets worse and worse, shaking the very ground. Rain pours down, pounding on the barns roof, thwarted from entering and disturbing the peace inside. The young colt shivers every few minutes, curled up next to the warm bovine. He's mostly clean how, Darcy having spent every second cleaning him off and warming his sole. Deacon looks up into her eyes and smiles, wishing to thank her. He starts to scratch her body, rubbing in all those spots she can't reach. The colt's hands wander up and around her large body, under her legs, her chest, behind her ears. The bovine closes her eyes and smiles to herself, enjoying his touch more than she had in a long time. Bulls don't pay much attention to things like this, they just jump and breed. Not that that's not what she wanted when she's bred, Darcy remembers the unmistakable pleasure that comes from being bred. But it's nothing like the pleasure of being caressed and massaged, like this colt is doing.

Milking time comes and goes, the weather too bad for the drunk farmer to risk coming out to do his job. Darcy sighs, knowing it will be another long eight hours before the pressure building up in her udders is released. Just then the colt's stomach growls in displeasure and a pained look appears on his face. Darcy laughs to herself, thinking of an easy solution and licks his nose, pushing his head between her hind legs. The heavy udder beckons, and the colt licks his lips longingly. But that would be vulgar, to nurse off this generous cow. He's a full grown colt; not quite a stallion yet, but certainly not a foal. His stomach growls again, reminding him how long it's been since his last meal. The wide wet nose of the Holstein nudges his neck again pushing him closer. His soft nose touches her udder and a dip of milk squeezes out of her teat. Deacon licks his nose, tasting the sweet and heavy milk, the carefully latches onto her, slowly and softly draining her.

Darcy sighs as the fullness in her udder slowly relaxes under the colt's ministrations. His soft tongue rubbing on her body starts to cause a trickle of pleasure to run through her body. She had never actually had a calf long enough to nurse on her, and it felt really, really good to have that soft tongue milk her for all she was worth. She closes her eyes and imagines that tongue sucking on other parts of her body, leaving her udder to slip between her legs and over her soft stomach. She opened her eyes to find the colt HAD started licking her body, nuzzling her leg and flaring his nose. Deacon nickered softly, finding his cock slipping out of his body. He arches his back to make himself more comfortable, raising his body up and supporting himself on his arms and legs. He rubs his soft tongue over the spotted body of the cow, lost in the sensual scent of her body.

Darcy moans to herself, finding her tail becoming damp with her arousal. She starts to pant as the colt's mouth nestles between her udder and her leg, his nose flaring and blowing warm air over her sensitive skin. Clear fluid starts to drip out of her, the scent going directly to the young horse's nose and causing him to drip himself. His colt-cock fully engorges, a full foot long but only an inch thick... Darcy lifts her leg allowing the colt more access, and he takes a step forward. A drop of the slick fluid touches his nose, causing him to lift his lip in the air. He quickly returns to her pussy, giving it a careful lick tasting her essence. Darcy moans again, feeling something tapping on her leg. She opens her soft eyes to see the colt's young cock bouncing gently on her hock. Darcy pants louder, shifting her weight and sitting upright, pushing the colt out of the way.

Deacon looks up in surprise, his nose gleaming with her fluids. He blushes, thinking he went too far and sitting back on his haunches, his long thin cock pulsating gently in the darkness. Darcy looks over her shoulder, lust in her eyes as she lifts her tail and presents her hind end to the eager colt. Deacon nickers and returns to his hands and knees, pushing his nose back into her warm dripping slit. Darcy keeps herself very clean, and not one bit of manure taints her rear end. Deacon tastes nothing but her body, his slick tongue slipping past her lips to tickle places Darcy had never experienced this soft touch. Another moan slips out of her muzzle, eyes rolling up in pleasure. A bull felt nothing like this... in and out, that was all. But they did recover quickly... a smile crosses her face as she remembers the last time she was bred by Chris, the farm's bull. Ten times in an hour... wow. A nibble on her clit brings her back to the present. A lustful groan escapes the colt's muzzle as a drop of pre escapes the blunt end of his filly-poker.

Darcy pushes herself closer to the young colt, begging for the intimate touch of his cock. Deacon nuzzles her hips, pressing his chin on her and rubbing back and forth. He lifts himself off his forearms and rests on her, pushing with his hind legs as he slides onto her back. His tip touches her slick and steaming warmth, causing his legs to twitch. He thrusts up with a single motion, hilting inside the wet heat of the cow. Darcy moos in pleasure as she feels the colt twitch and shake inside of her. So much longer than the bull... The colt shudders and pulls back, pushing inside violently. He nickers on her back, shaking his body and sending waves of sensation through her body. He feels her warmth and wetness on his body as he hilts inside her again, his testicles and chest pressing tight against her pussy. The colt's entire cock and sheath presses into her; the wide base of his cock splitting her lips and sending shudders throughout her body. She squeezes hard around him, feeling him expand inside her tunnel. He slips back out of her, slamming his cock back inside. A soft squishing noise escapes their union, putting a smile on the cow's face; the colt couldn't even notice, his entire attention on the tight warmth of her body.

The colt's flare starts to engorge, his breath starting to come in gasps as the pleasure of the bovine's body starts to send him over the edge. Darcy gasps, eyes widening in shock as the colt's cock triples in size. She feels the huge member slip in and out of her, spreading her tunnel with every movement. She moans in pleasure as the colt starts to pulse, sending rope after rope of colt-seed into her womb. She shudders as she orgasms, her body clenching on the colt's member. Deacon hilts himself, his sheath once again spreading her wide as his flare injects his cum into her body. His entire body clenches with every spurt, his tail flagging sharply. He moans and collapses onto her back, his spent member still pulsing gently, sending his gel into her to plug her cervix. He sighs, slowly pulling out of the cow. Darcy watches him with half closed eyes as the thin member slips out, followed by his gigantic flare. Her eyes widen as she sees the colt's flare pull out, four inches thick. No wonder he made her feel so full... She smiles as he pants slowly, his colt cock pulling back into his sheath. He crawls to her head and plants a kiss on her nose, as the two embrace after the intense session...