FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Zahame's First Time

He was eleven years old. Nearly twelve. A small, gangly bundle of arms, legs and tail with all the grace and elegance of a drunken mosquito. He was a kuvrahk. Most people saw him as some kind of weird, cute little dragon. He was happy to be known as such. But kuvrahks are not reptilian, nor do they have wings, nor an instinct to hoard treasure or kidnap maidens. His smooth, velvety-scaled skin was a warm, earthy ochre, etched with sparse, darker stripes which looked as if someone had drawn them on his skin with each brushstroke originating upon his spine, and trailing off into paler, softer skin on his front. His hair was a deep mahogany red, dark brown in anything but bright sunlight, where it glowed. His hair was long then, hanging between his shoulder blades, his bangs tucked behind his ears, shaped like a bat's wing, with delicate membrane stretched between fingers of cartilage. They were highly expressive organs.

Zahame lived with his parents - as do many eleven-year-olds - in a plain house, in a plain town, where his father worked a plain job in a plain office. Zahame went to a plain school and had a few good friends. But it was all going to change very soon, because his parents were building a house for themselves, for him and his older sister, in a little town far, far away on the seaside, where his father could work a much more exciting job. There was just too much plain here. It did not suit a family of weird, cute little dragons.

Zahame and his sister Nahia rode their bicycles to school every morning. They rode together, because Nahia was sixteen and could look after her little brother and make sure he was safe. They couldn't race each other or ride joyful miles or relax in the woods on their own, though, because it was a big town. A big, plain town, full of big, plain cars and people who appeared to wear blindfolds. It wasn't that the town was unsafe, it was just...uncaring.

And so, after school, Zahame and Nahia entertained themselves. Nahia often went out to a friend's house, or had her friends over to their house, which often left Zahame on his own. He did not mind, he was a fairly solitary boy. He enjoyed reading and drawing and gazing out of his bedroom window at the distant mountains which would glimmer white, then orange, then pink and purple as the sun sank into the sea far to the west. He would watch the night close in, listening as the birds changed their calls and the crickets began to chirp and the stars came out one by one. And because he was a boy, and curious, and intelligent, he noticed his body growing and changing as he neared his twelfth birthday.

Kuvrahks are weird in other ways; they are born only partly developed, within a soft, leathery egg that needs to be kept warm for three months. And then when they hatch, they grow fast. All kuvrahks emerge from their eggs without a set gender. They are androgynous and while their gender is genetically coded into their young bodies, until the advent of DNA science no one could ever be quite sure whether a young kuvrahk was male or female until they began to develop at around the age of seven.

Zahame was, quite emphatically, male.

A curious quirk of biology. Because of the way kuvrahks develop and grow, for their early years there is a great level of homogeneity in their bodies. Organs that may become testes or ovaries occur in the same locations. A tiny nub of erectile tissue that may become a penis or a clitoris begins tucked away within the body. The soft folds of flesh that may develop into a vagina begin forming anyway, and slowly fuse back together and disappear in males. The one thing that remains consistent between genders is the labia majora. Both male and female kuvrahks have a near-identical genital slit, which can be both confusing and entertaining for members of other species with more...pronounced genital variations.

Zahame had definitely discovered his maleness by the age of eleven.

Most evenings, as he watched the sun set, or the rain sheet across the suburban landscape, or listened to his sister and her friends chatting and laughing in the next room, the little kuvrahk's penis became erect in his underwear. It had started happening a year or so ago, and at first he had not even noticed, except when someone pointed it out to him and embarrassed him greatly. Now it was familiar, a normal sensation.

He knelt on his bed, with his elbows on his windowsill, the little kuvrahk's thighs squeezed tightly together around his stiff penis, his hips rocking gently side to side, making it rub back and forth between his legs a little. His long, sinuous tail swayed back and forth across his bed with the motion, and it felt nice.

Once it got completely dark outside, Zahame stood and got himself ready for bed, brushing his teeth and forcing his penis into submission so he could use the bathroom. And then he would go to bed. It was a nice routine. Comfortable in its familiarity. Often his sister would come into his bedroom and kiss him goodnight after her friends left for the evening, or after she got home. He would often pretend to be asleep, and she would never know that he had an erection under the covers.

Sometimes he would think about his sister's friends. They were all several years older than him, and well developed, with breasts and wide hips and two-piece bikini bathing suits. A blush would rise to his cheeks as he imagined one of them taking the place of the pillow he laid alongside himself. He would press close and let out a little huff of delight as he ground and rubbed his stiff penis against the pillow. Sometimes he would lie on top of it and sometimes the pillow would be pulled on top of him, he wasn't sure which he liked better but both felt nice. He kept going often until he fell asleep, waking up in the morning with his underwear tangled around his feet and a strange little ache in his loins.

He was almost twelve, and found himself one evening thinking not about his sister's friends, but Nahia herself. Her milky pale skin, much darker stripes and infectious smile. Her green eyes and the way her budding breasts would often brush his chest at night when she kissed him goodnight. She was his sister, and even at eleven Zahame knew that it was wrong to think of your sister in the way he did that night. But she was also a kuvrahk. Kuvrahks were a rare species in this country, and while other species were nice to think about as well, Zahame actually didn't know any other kuvrahks outside his own family.

He lifted up his blankets, pushing his underwear down around his thighs as he did every night, leaving the light on for a minute as he reached a hand down and fondled his smooth, warm genital slit, watching as his penis throbbed and twitched its way out into the air, slender, smooth and pink, topped with an equally smooth, but somehow even pinker head, which only became fully exposed when he was really stiff. It felt nice to brush that almost painfully sensitive glans against the underside of the cotton sheets. It made him very stiff to do that, and he enjoyed the sensation when he was so erect it made his toes curl, his small penis flexing and bobbing around all on its own.

Nahia. He'd seen his sister just the other day in her bathing suit. It was the height of summer and very hot, and she and her friends tended to spend their time together quite scantily clad. Zahame had been spying through the keyhole in his sister's bedroom door and had found himself very stiff in his pants as he watched Nahia and three of her friends playing twister in their bathing suits, arms and legs and tails spread wide and tangled around each other candidly.

He bit his lip softly as he pulled his pillow firmly against his front, closing his eyes and remembering that view, lifting one leg across his pillow and grinding his hips firmly into it, sliding his bare, rigid penis across the smooth fabric, back and forth slowly. It was a nice sensation. It made him feel tingly, and he enjoyed that. He was starting to drift off to sleep, gently and slowly rubbing himself along his pillow still, his eyes closed and gentle snoring coming from his muzzle, when something truly bizarre happened.

It felt like someone had struck a match inside his genital slit. A burning, intense feeling, but it didn't hurt. It felt like he'd just released his bladder. The feeling of hot liquid rushing through his tubes. He was going to pee. Right there on his pillow.

His eyes flared wide open and he gasped loudly, jerking his hips back and rolling onto his back, throwing the covers off in terror. He NEVER wet the bed, not ever! Not even when he was a baby! Why was it happening now? As he watched, still half asleep, his rigidly erect penis gave several powerful, bouncing twitches, and a torrent of liquid splashed out all over his hands and his bed. And then, within seconds, it passed.

Zahame groaned in embarrassment, groping around to assess the extent of the mess and feeling confused when he only found a few small wet spots. His hands were soaked, though, from where he'd covered himself to try and limit the damage. He groped around on the floor for his towel, and wiped his penis and his hands and his bed in a frantic daze, unable to believe he'd actually wet the bed.

He looked down at his penis. It was very, very sensitive, and had almost completely retreated into his slit.

Looking over at his pillow, he straightened it back up again. I'd better stop rubbing it tonight I suppose... he told himself, curling up tightly under his blanket and falling asleep within seconds, his young mind a tumultuous tangle of confusion.

It was three more days until he had the courage to play with himself again. It was only a week until his twelfth birthday now. He'd been reading a book about kuvrahk anatomy he'd found in the local library. It was an ancient book, very vague and in many places, outright wrong. Obviously it had not been written by a kuvrahk. But the thing that interested Zahame was knowing what had happened the other night. He turned to the "reproduction" section of the book, which was a scant three pages with some very small, crude illustrations, and blinked.

"Ejac...late...ejac-you-late?"

He considered this for a second. The stuff which had sprayed out of his penis the other night had definitely not been pee. It didn't stink the way pee did. And there was far less of it. And he'd peed less than half an hour before that anyway, so how could it have been pee? It must have been these...sperms.

Convinced to try it again, Zahame brought a towel to bed deliberately this time. His penis was dutifully stiff as he clambered into his bed, laying his towel over his pillow, making sure he covered it all up. He lay on top of his pillow this time, with his hands underneath, pretending it was one of his sister's friends and she was begging him to put it inside her vagina and his hands were on her butt and he was grinding his hips roughly into her. He panted and huffed. It felt great. Better tonight than ever. He knew what he was doing now. The towel was rougher against his sensitive head than the cotton pillowcase, so he lifted his hips up a little until his penis barely touched the towel-covered pillow, and rocked his hips, sliding his penis back and forth rapidly against the towel. His heart sped up and his breath caught in his throat. He felt that match strike inside him again and muffled a groan by biting the pillow, staring down at his penis as he felt the same sensation as he had previously, fighting the instinct to stop himself before he could pee on the bed. He gave one last thrust and it happened. His penis throbbed over and over, rhythmically, like his heart beat but faster. Nothing came out at first but then there was a sudden rush, a messy spray of clear, sticky fluid that squirted out onto the towel, wetting a small patch half the size of the palm of his hand.

He groaned, flopping onto his side and observing the small mess he'd made. Looking down at his softening penis, he squeezed it, milking out the last couple of drops with his fingers. It was a different colour! The stuff which had sprayed out was clear, but there, clinging to the tip of his penis and slowly running down to drip onto the mattress, was a little opaque, white droplet.

At that precise moment, his bedroom door swung open, and Nahia snuck in to give him his goodnight kiss.

*****