FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

On weekends Floyd came in to edit and often did so without distractions. When Team Muscle proprietor and star Stripes wasn't around to handle the phone, however, cameraman, editor and tech guru Floyd had the authority and savvy to negotiate in his absence and report back.

Floyd was greatly desensitized to the throbbing cock which filled his workstation screen. It was the dripping black meat of Cobbie, renowned porn star and live-in boyfriend to Stripes. Dutifully, Floyd was piecing together a best-of DVD to coincide with the studio's fifth year in business and this particular scene came from one of the most popular films the studio had ever put out. To keep the quality consistently high, he worked with raw masters and he spliced one frame into another for a smooth cut with seemingly uninterrupted action. All of the sex in Team Muscle productions was real and raw but Floyd proved with his skilled touch and thoughtful eye that his editing made all the difference between an amateur webcam show and an award-winning fuck flick.

On the desk, the phone rang and Floyd didn't hesitate to answer it. He was already half an hour past his self-imposed break and so he welcomed a chance to snap out of his work trance. "Team Muscle Studios," said the coy red fox, "Floyd speaking, what can I do for you?"

"You the owner?" prodded a shifty voice on the other end. Nerdy and vaguely nasal tones undermined a lame attempt at authority. Floyd was tempered by what real men sounded like and he only smiled.

"I'm not," Floyd said, "but I can relay a message to him. Could I ask you to state your business?"

"My client is a very big fan of the," said the nasally thing before a pause and a breath, "films your studio produces."

Floyd chuckled. "Go on, please." He hoped he'd have a good number-one fan phone call to share with the guys come Monday.

"My client is a big fan," the nasally male restated, "and he'd like a tour and to meet the actors. Everything above the table, of course."

At least he doesn't think the guys are johns for hire, Floyd dryly thought. He said, "All right, well, as much as I'd like to make your client happy, the Team Muscle studs are in pretty high demand. I don't think we could justify--," but the strange caller cut him off with reserved fervor.

"My client's got four platinum albums out and a fifth on the way up there, I really think that we could work something out."

Prank calls were surprisingly uncommon at Team Muscle given what their business was, but Floyd smelled one. He maintained his composure but he had no desire to be a fool. "I'd love to take you at face value, but I have no way of knowing if you're telling the truth. Besides that, I don't think we'd humor a musician--," but the caller stopped him again.

"Singer. He's the singer, face of the band."

"Right," Floyd huffed. Floyd was slow to fluster but he felt his fuse burning down. "Who's your client, then?"

Floyd could picture the caller, whatever he was, puffing out his chest when he said, "None other than Kahnso of the Deep Inches." He waited a beat and said, "So can we work something out?"

Kahnso. Kocaine Kahnso! Floyd was familiar. He had outgrown the sex 'n drugs 'n rock 'n roll mentality well before college but his best friend had been such a fan of Kahnso that Floyd had no chance but to hear the music and look at posters on a slanted dorm ceiling. Floyd's mental image was fuzzy but he recalled Kahnso to be a handsome and muscular fellow. With a high-profile fan possibly at stake, Floyd couldn't risk letting it fall through. Coolly he said, "Let me get in touch with my boss and I'll call you back before the night's over. Can I have a number to reach you at?" The nasal speaker gave one and Floyd scrawled it down. As soon as he got off the phone he dialed Stripes and started searching on the internet at the same time.

--2

"Shit, Stripey, you suck a better dick than any twink I ever fucked," hissed Cobbie the cobra. Post-orgasm, he was lazily sprawled on the bed. Sheets were bunched up under him and tangled around a leg. His powerfully-built muscles glistened with a dew of sweat and his dark cock was flopped half-flaccid against his belly. Near the tip was a tiny smear of semen, but most of it was in Stripes' stomach by then.

"Takes a real man to know what a man needs," Stripes mused. He himself was a tall and handsome zebra comparable to Cobbie in size, hung even more so. But unlike Cobbie, he had the capacity to smile without malice and his eyes were often kind. He loomed over the snake with his blunt equine erection dribbling pre and was just getting ready for his own gratification when his cell phone rang on the nightstand. Like a tease he pulled away from Cobbie, whose forked tongue flitted at the air where Stripes' thick penis had just been. "It's Floyd," he calmly announced when he looked at his phone.

"Oh boy," Cobbie chuckled as he folded his arms behind his head. "Stripes, come help, I was fucking Desmond in the office again and his tail got stuck in the xerox machine."

"Hey, stuff it or I'll stuff it for you," Stripes grinned just before he answered. "Floyd, what's up?"

"That's what I was hoping for," Cobbie said under his breath. Still lazy in afterglow, he rolled out of bed and walked stark naked to the kitchen.

The zebra sat on his pillow and pressed back against the headboard while he listened to Floyd explain, "Some guy just called wanting to get his client into the studio."

"We don't usually do tours," Stripes said uncertainly.

"I know, but he's a rockstar. I emailed you a couple links, check 'em out," Floyd insisted. Stripes scooted off of the bed and sat at the desk with some difficulty. His erection, though waning, made things troublesome.

While he navigated one-handed to his email, Stripes said, "I know you wouldn't call me if you didn't think this was worth checking out." Just then he logged in. "Heh," he chuckled off-handedly, "I got some spam about having a bigger dick."

Floyd chuckled like the fox he was. "They must want your secrets."

Stripes laughed back and found Floyd's email. Once he loaded the links he peered at the singing stud and whistled. "This fella looks like a prime piece of meat," the zebra remarked, and he was. Kahnso was every bit of a herculean sex god as the Team Muscle cast. He was a fox with cyan and white coloring, saber canines and a penchant for backless leather loincloths as Stripes could see.

"Yeah, he is," Floyd admitted. "Dez was hot for him in college."

"Dez is hot for everything," Stripes said absently. Just then Cobbie leaned over him while he crunched into an apple.

Articulately despite his mouthful of food, the snake said, "Hot guy. I'd plow that. Pull that prettyboy black hair and make him clench."

Stripes chuckled and said to Floyd, "Can you find out if the guy's telling the truth? Whatever way it goes, I think we could humor a rockstar if he's that good-looking."

"That's the thing. I have no idea of telling if he's just pulling our tails," Floyd said. "Any ideas?"

The zebra paused and leaned back in his chair until his head pressed against Cobbie's hard stomach. The cobra wore a rare smile when he stroked down Stripes' head to his sturdy neck. Cuddled against Cobbie, Stripes smiled and said to Floyd, "I got an idea. Tell the guy to have Kahnso take a picture. Have him holding a sign with a message on it. He provides the proof and you book him ASAP. Sound good?"

Floyd chuckled, "Sure thing," and he hung up.

"What am I missing here?" Cobbie asked between bites. "And who's the boytoy?"

"Some singer," Stripes mused while he switched from picture to picture. The shot of Kahnso's naked, hard ass was the most compelling. "He's a fan of TM, apparently."

"Looks the type," Cobbie shrugged. "I'd fuck him raw either way."

In the Team Muscle office, Floyd had his most recent caller back on the line. "...Right, and just have him put 'Team Muscle does it for me' on the sign. Here's the address you can email it to," and Floyd rattled off his private studio email. The male, whom Floyd learned was Kahnso's alleged manager, promised to have it sent shortly.

Five minutes later, Floyd had barely gotten back to editing when he got an email notification. He hadn't expected it to be Kahnso so quickly and he was suitably surprised. Attached was a cell phone image, a surprise from someone so rich and famous, but the stud in the picture was unmistakably Kahnso. He had a crocodile smile and he was holding up a sheet of brown cardboard like an inside-out beer box. Written in handsome autograph scrawl was 'Team Muscle does it for Kahnso, baby.'

--3

The next weekend was an atypical one, and at Stripes' insistence and after coordinating with Kahnso's manager, he agreed to have the main cast at the studio to meet and greet the rockstar. They lingered around in the lounge room and Stripes frequently conversed with Floyd on Kahnso's ETA. Cobbie still harbored thoughts of nailing the musical stud they'd soon have in their midst.

Parallel to Cobbie and Stripes as a couple were Chance and Mark, both aquatic creatures of no less herculean proportions. Mark was a charming and buddy-buddy orca who would have just as soon had a beer with another man than fuck him. Far opposite Mark's demeanor but no less in love was Chance whose dramatic lines of ink on his arms and brawling scars meshed well with a cold and curt personality. Considering his species as a shark and his stint in prison, however, his attitude was mild.

After much anticipation, Floyd finally peered into the room and said to Stripes, but in earshot of the whole room, "He's here."

Stripes had dragged it out of Kahnso's manager that Cobbie was the rockstar's favorite stud of them all and so the cobra waited in the foyer along with Stripes. Floyd was nearby as something of a diplomat, although he had some ulterior motives of his own. The trio watched as a black Hummer with tinted windows pulled up near the front doors of the studio.

"It's like we're getting visited by a mafia boss or something," Cobbie deadpanned. "Spoiled musician bullshit."

"Shush," Stripes said, although he might have been inclined to agree. The driver stepped out, him being an unassuming husky boy in an embarrassing valet's outfit. He opened the side door and from there emerged the main course: Kocaine Kahnso. He strode with purpose to the front doors and let himself in with a surprising lack of an entourage. At the sight of Cobbie and Stripes in their tight jeans and snug tees, Kahnso grinned and padded closer. He was dressed like a normal man in jeans and a wife beater, but he had a duffel bag in his grip.

"What do you know," Kahnso dryly said, "my manager didn't fuck this one up."

Stripes chuckled and reached out to shake Kahnso's free paw. He was pleased to learn that the singer had a firm grip. "Welcome to the studio," he said affably. "I'm Stripes."

"I know, trust me," Kahnso grinned. The actors noticed a hint of a blush on his face. "And you here," he said as he turned to the snake, "you're Cobbie."

The cobra folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "Yeah I am. Who the hell are you again?"

Floyd tried to save face with a little laugh as he slipped into the line of fire. "Cobbie lives under a rock. I know who you are."

After a glance at Floyd, Kahnso looked back at Cobbie with a widening grin. "It's fine. I like the attitude. You remind me of myself."

"That supposed to be a joke?" Cobbie glared, but then he gently punched Kahnso's shoulder and sneered. "Glad Team Muscle does it for you," he winked, "baby."

Stripes reached out and put a hand on Kahnso's shoulder. "Mark and Chance are waiting to meet you," he smiled. "We can all sit around, talk, swap autographs around if you want. After that, we had a little shoot arranged for you to sit in on."

"All sounds good to me," Kahnso said lowly. "I always like a little show and tell."

Cobbie snickered, Floyd disappeared into the lounge and Stripes said with a chuckle, "With those loincloths you wear, we already figured that out."

"Yeah, everybody likes the loincloth," Kahnso grinned toothily. He hefted the bag and said, "I decided to bring one along, just in case..."

The zebra and cobra shared a glance. Stripes could see in Cobbie's eyes that he was going to put the moves on Kahnso as soon as he could. Somehow Stripes doubted it would bother the rock god. "If you like," Stripes said back to the singer, "we can stop by the dressing room before we hit the lounge."

"Heh, sure," said Kahnso. He followed the zebra with Cobbie taking up the rear.

--4

Mark and Chance sat in the lounge and amused themselves over Floyd's recent suggestion that the studio start shooting in 4K when Stripes, then Kahnso and finally Cobbie entered. Kahnso turned heads in his long, heavy loincloth and the archery bands and bangles he wore on his limbs, tail included. Understandably, it was the lump under his loincloth which earned the most attention, although Cobbie had followed the fox specifically to glance at his bare ass when his swaying tail permitted it.

"Mark and Chance," Kahnso grinned. "I'm a big fan."

"You sure are," Mark chuckled. It was Chance whom stuck out his hand for a shake first, though, that being his wordless but respectful greeting. Mark opted for a handshake and a brisk, masculine hug. "So you're a big-time singer, right? Travel the world and screw lots of strange boys?" Mark laughed.

"Mostly girls, but there's some boys in there," Kahnso said with a mysterious and tight smile.

Cobbie dipped his toes in the water when he pinched Kahnso's ass. The rockstar winced and flinched away but he didn't turn around with a swing. "Off-limits," Kahnso warned, but Cobbie found the lack of physical retaliation promising. His smirk was legendary when he addressed the rockstar.

"If you like boys, you're at the wrong studio. Nothing but fucking men here," the cobra hissed as he patted his bicep. "Nah, you like prissy sissies you can boss around, not guys who can hold their own," he said with a challenging grin.

Stripes, Mark and to a lesser degree Chance watched the showdown with coy interest. Kahnso turned on his heel and stared the snake down with a big smirk of his own. Cobbie was smaller by a foot but when he pouted out his muscles and flared his hood, the gap in size was negligible.

"You talk a lot of shit for a guy who gets his asshole reamed on camera," the fox lowly said.

"I'm not ashamed of a damn thing," Cobbie sneered. "A real man's not a top or a bottom. He knows what he wants and he fucking goes after it."

Kahnso laughed. "I sell out at stadiums and I have whores to snort coke off of, I got everything I want!"

Stripes was starting to wonder if it was time to step in but Cobbie shut the rockstar down admirably. "And yet here you are in a gay smut studio instead of snorting blow out of a hooker's ass crack, huh?" He grinned with special animosity and his forked tongue flitted to taste the air.

When Kahnso's face soured, everyone expected the worst except for Cobbie whom ate the humiliation up. Kahnso blushed a moment later and splayed back his ears. "All right, that was pretty good," he meekly chuckled. "Look, I don't have anything against fucking guys. I just don't get fucked, all right?"

"Whatever you say," Cobbie snickered. "See you later, prettyboy," and with that he took his solemn leave.

Ever cheerful was Mark whom patted Kahnso on the shoulder. "Don't take it to heart, Cobs loves to break balls like that."

Kahnso shrugged, needlessly adjusted a band on his bicep and turned to Stripes. "I figured. So, uh, what next?"

The zebra smiled disarmingly. "Well, we were gonna be shooting some promo stills for a porno convention coming up."

Kahnso interjected with an impish grin. "Porno convention, really? That's a thing?"

Chance snickered and spoke up for the first time. "I'm surprised you haven't been invited to one, the way you dress and act." Kahnso turned to him and then came a pause, seemingly uneasy with an embarrassed smirk from the fox.

Stripes cut back in as the voice of reason. "It's above-level, no funny business. You get a booth, you promote your stuff, you talk and collab with other people in the industry and everybody wants to take pictures with you."

"Sounds like when I used to play in bars," Kahnso remarked.

With a chuckle, the zebra put a hand on Kahnso's shoulder and led him off. Chance and Mark followed closely and the four of them soon rendezvoused with Cobbie and Floyd, the former undressed to a TM-branded g-string and the latter adjusting a remarkably expensive-looking camera on a tripod.

"How's the equipment, Floyd?" Stripes prodded, slipping his shirt off. Mark and Chance were doing the same.

"Oh, you know," the red fox mused, "horribly inadequate by comparison."

"Ha," the zebra humorlessly barked. Cobbie did chuckle, however, as he flexed and stretched to find the best pose. His vanity was typical but necessary here, for their bodies would be immortalized on twenty-foot-high vinyl tapestries and hung around the booth.

Floyd chuckled and shrugged. "It's fine as of right now, actually. All focused and ready to shoot."

Stripes smiled as he slipped out of his jeans. Mark and Chance had already gotten their company g-strings on. "You're the best, Floyd."

"Aw, don't give me a big head. We can barely fit Cobbie's in here," Floyd smiled. "With a guy like Kahnso here, I think that's about all the ego we can fit in one building." Here Kahnso chuckled, rolled his eyes and moseyed behind Floyd to peer absently through the viewfinder.

"All right, that's enough out of you," Stripes chuckled. "Get on with it." Although Floyd started to snap a few dozen images of Cobbie in various stages of flex and gesticulation, Kahnso's eyes were actually locked on Stripes while the handsome zebra slipped out of his pants and bared his naked, floppy horse cock, which was soon covered up with a g-string.

The zebra caught Kahnso peeking and so he made a purposeful show of adjusting his package to curl his cock around his balls. When he was through he winked and blew the rockstar a kiss with a smirk on his face. Not long afterward, it was his turn.

"You're the leader, you're the cool one," Floyd said with directorial enthusiasm. "Fold your arms for me. There you go!" But as he dutifully snapped away, Kahnso's eyes weren't on the zebra because Chance had sidled up to him with a coy smile.

In hushed conversation below the clicking of Floyd's camera and direction, the shark murmured to Kahnso about his choice in attire. It was a compliment Kahnso returned with an ironic smirk. Kahnso offered praise for the shark's ink, taken with a modest and nearly indifferent shrug by Chance. Chance similarly remarked on the tod's odd fangs and Kahnso enticingly licked over them.

Mark soon changed out for Stripes. Of course that meant Chance was due to go next but he instead nodded toward the hall with a smirk. He and Kahnso weren't necessarily discreet but neither Cobbie nor Stripes stopped the shark as he made off with their egotistical guest.

"You know Chance is gonna get the dick, right?" the cobra murmured to Stripes.

"Chance is a big boy," Stripes chuckled. "He can do what he wants. Besides, I want a famous guy like Kahnso leaving with a big grin on his face."

--5

Chance led Kahnso back into the lounge. The door had no lock but a chair propped under the knob achieved the same effect. Preferring to let actions speak for him, Chance kissed Kahnso. In the firm liplock he dragged his blunt tongue across the rockstar's beastly fangs and he treated those furry, muscular ass cheeks to possessive squeezes. Kahnso made to return the kiss but Chance had pulled away and his meaty hands had similarly vacated the rockstar's rear. With appreciation on the mind and a coy, toothy grin on his face, Chance palmed the deep creases of Kahnso's musculature. An unconscious show of approval was a lash of his fluked tail.

"Nice definition," the shark solemnly complimented. "You lift weights."

"Mhm," Kahnso purred in reply. He soon put a dense paw on the shark's chest. Chance unhanded the fox and stretched his arms behind his back to flex and pout his own burly chest outwards. Kahnso sneered and felt Chance up more thoroughly but rather than the stunning creases of muscle, he traced the shark's ink. "What about you? You're built like a fucking tank."

"I work out," Chance enigmatically remarked. There was more under the surface and Kahnso could detect it but he chose not to prod. Size difference aside, Kahnso knew that Chance was much tougher than he was. He had the attitude to go with the body.

"Sure, I can tell," the fox murmured. "I got the feeling you didn't drag me off just to compare pecs, though," he grinned with a bob of his eyebrows.

Chance smirked and nudged Kahnso against the wall. It being simple, economic paneling under plain wallpaper, it shuddered when his heavy bulk bumped into it. Like dirty dancing, Chance straddled Kahnso standing up and bumped hips with the fox, their heights close enough for their bulging crotches to grind. The shark was surprised by how pleasant it felt to grind against a tough leather loincloth. "Smart for a prettyboy," Chance deadpanned. "I figure if you like the smut, you'd like to fuck the guys in it."

"Correct," Kahnso chuckled with a bump of his nose on Chance's. "I've seen the movies. You've got a bottom streak a mile long."

Here the aquatic predator sneered. A moment later he bit the fox's neck and coaxed out an immediate gasp. Sharp shark teeth pricked Kahnso's skin but didn't break it while those muscular, smooth hands squeezed the fox's muscular behind. "Is that so," he said in deadpan.

Kahnso shuddered and ground out into Chance's crotch. Chance ground back with redoubled strength with which to pin him back against the wall. "I thought you did," Kahnso feebly offered.

"I like a dick in my ass sometimes," Chance said into the tod's neck. A moment of predatory instinct shined through when he nipped where he knew the jugular artery to be. "But that doesn't make me a bottom bitch." Friction heat as Chance and Kahnso ground their swollen packages together permeated their clothing and warmed their loins. Chance was more afflicted than the tod, however, and he grumbled as his fat cock started to struggle against the g-string. The aquatic predator eased back a few inches and reached under Kahnso's loincloth. No garments were worn underneath to keep a hard gust from rendering him indecent. While he fondled the fox's big, furry balls, Chance sneered, "You perform like this?"

"Fuck yeah, I do," Kahnso grinned despite blushing at the molestation. "Girls pay big bucks to look at my ass while I sing."

Bet it ain't just girls, Chance thought. Another thought came as he groped around to Kahnso's fat sheath and finally his cock proper: Kahnso was hung like a stallion. The cock he had his hand on rivaled what Stripes was packing but the shape was understandably and unmistakably canine. The knot at the base bulged hugely and the shape of it was awesome yet vaguely off-putting to Chance.

"Nice dick," Chance said coolly and he started to pump Kahnso with harsh strokes. Each stroke made the loincloth wag and soon the fox merely splayed against the wall and groaned.

"Christ, I fucking love a handjob," Kahnso grunted.

Chance's sneer widened only just and he pumped more roughly at the encouragement "Hope you do," the shark said with condescension, "because that's the best you're getting from me."

At first Kahnso continued to passively take the jerking. It was certainly enough to get off on and Chance still seemed genuine and rather dangerous. But as the pleasure mounted and he recalled the videos of Chance getting his ass reamed quite contentedly, he peered down at the shark and his blushing muzzle bore a challenging grin. "I can't fuck you in the ass, huh?"

"Dunno," Chance said curtly while he jerked and squeezed. "Can you?"

Kahnso peered challengingly into Chance's eyes but the pleasure left his gaze somewhat vacant. An instant later, the fox pushed off of the wall and wrapped his arms around Chance, startling the shark but for no more than a grunt. The rockstar kissed Chance hard and earned a nip on the tongue for his troubles but he wasn't dissuaded. Rather slowly Chance gave in to the kiss and even returned it but his grinding was all the more insistent.

In an awkward shuffle, Kahnso moved Chance back toward the sofa. With little grace he dumped the shark on the cushions and promptly grappled for his g-string which he tugged down and off to reveal an uncut shaft of epic proportions while a heavy ballsack to match spilled out onto the cushions. Rendered nude, Chance grinned coyly and straightened out as he folded his arms behind his head. His great tattooed bulk was staggering and it vied for attention with the length of his drooling cock.

Kahnso loomed over Chance with one paw on the back of the couch and the other on the shark's thick slab of meat. "It's really something else seeing this dick in person," he murmured. Then with a sly grin he added, "Pretty nice to see your cock, too."

"Really fucking clever," Chance coldly said and the way he decisively reached for Kahnso's cock again suggested that he had something on his mind besides bad jokes. He took his bluntness a step further when he growled, "Why don't you quit screwing around and fuck me? It's what we're both after."

"Can't argue with that," the tod agreed with a dirty chuckle. He unhanded Chance's cock to untie his loincloth which then flopped limp on the floor. Chance stared with a mixture of lewdness and well-concealed worry at the sight of the rockstar's fat shaft. Kahnso grappled with Chance's hips and pulled the shark closer to the edge of the couch, and from there he slipped the pointed tip of his red rocket up under the stud's balls. It was with a quiet huff that Kahnso started to slowly but firmly penetrate the shark, a noise Chance echoed.

"Let's clear one thing up right now," Chance shuddered. He curled his fingers around the rockstar's wrists and peered at the fox's obliging expression. "You can fuck the shit out of me," the shark huffed. "I'm not gonna break. But that knot isn't gonna happen."

Kahnso sneered as he entered Chance. By the second, that very knot was bearing down on the shark's asshole. "Is that code for saying you want to be knotted like a bitch?"

The shark's expression idled at hard but Kahnso was threatened with a deadly scowl. "I'm not fucking around, Kahnso, and I don't make threats."

Kahnso's ears briefly splayed and his expression was a hurt one but he seemed to bounce back quickly, especially as his fat cock hilted sans knot. Chance sighed warmly as he found himself appreciating at least the pressure of having the knot against him. Any unease between the two studs evaporated into Kahnso's slow, sloppy bucks. "Nice ass," the fox grumbled as he worked. His tail swayed in a serpentine manner, catching Chance's gaze several times as he idly stroked his own cock.

The big fox leaned over Chance and pecked him on the lips with a quick kiss. Chance rebuffed it with a nip but he reached up to stroke through Kahnso's flowing black hair. "Go a little faster," he urged, to which Kahnso obliged. "That's it... Real smooth," Chance huffed as he quickened his masturbation.

Having learned his lesson, Kahnso resisted the urge to kiss and nuzzle Chance. Instead he freed up a paw to palm and squeeze the shark's hard pecs which tensed and twitched receptively beneath his fingers. This saw the shark clench down a little bit and quicken his breathing. "Nice muscles, real nice," Kahnso crooned. "Gotta admire a well-built guy..."

Chance grinned toothily and bucked against Kahnso to spur the fox to quicker, harsher pumps. It paid off when Kahnso doubled down with his rough fucking. Each time he pressed in, he ground his knot against the shark's well-stretched tail hole but he never dared to push it in. Given that Chance had a grip on his hair, that was a wise decision.

"This is the first time I've fucked another stud," Kahnso admitted. Chance didn't have a hard time believing it.

"Different from fucking a twink, isn't it?" Chance grinned. Before Kahnso could agree or not, the shark added, "Really changes your attitude when the guy you're fucking can knock your teeth out."

A tight, nervous grin creased Kahnso's lips but his pace didn't slacken. The shark could tell from Kahnso's quickened breathing and blushing that he wouldn't last too much longer. With such a fat cock in his ass and so much praise given to his hard body, Chance wouldn't last forever, either. "You're not gonna knock my teeth out, are you?"

The shark huffed with a single laugh. "I wasn't planning on it. You're good so far. Don't push it."

Silence beyond huffs and groans overtook the two studs. Kahnso's knotted cock continued to dutifully ream the shark while the handsome predator steadily and quickly jerked off. Soft-furred fingers on Kahnso's paw traced the hard lines of Chance's muscles to peruse their bulk, making them twitch. The shark couldn't have been happier with Kahnso's mild worship.

Kahnso's snout hung close to Chance's. His exhalations were often caught by the shark and vice-versa for a subtle lightheadedness which neither stud noticed too strongly. "Ah, god," Kahnso grunted while his bucks escalated in desperation and bliss. "You want me to jizz in you?" he asked with a shudder.

"Fuck yeah, keep it in," Chance hissed through his teeth as he sprawled on the sofa. His own approaching climax saw his muscles tense and that equated to stretching his legs and pouting his bulky chest out. It was nearly a photo finish but Chance started to squirt into his meaty hand and onto his hard chest moments before Kahnso's heavy spunk splattered into that tight, hot anal passage. Chance was reserved with grunts and huffs but Kahnso panted and crooned as he shot his mighty wad. As Chance expected from the fox, it was an enormous load. He could feel it clinging to his walls, hanging there with its potent virility and heat.

"Grrf, Christ," Kahnso snuffled. "Tell me something... How's that feel?"

"Feels great," Chance murmured, "don't worry about it." He had fallen slack on the sofa, his feet on the floor and his sticky palm against his hard belly.

"No, no," Kahnso chuckled, still blushing and huffing in release. "What's it feel like getting assfucked?"

"It... Feels like having a dick up your ass," Chance said as thoughtfully as he could. "I don't know what to tell you. Find out for yourself."

Kahnso shrugged and straightened himself out. As he slowly eased his throbbing shaft out of the shark's well-loved ass, he remarked, "I might. Just keep that to yourself."

The shark grimaced somewhat as Kahnso slipped out of him. It was with some weirdly pleasant discomfort that the shark settled against the sofa. "I don't spread shit around." And on that note, he didn't warn Kahnso of the fact that Cobbie had made it a goal to conquer him.

"Thanks," Kahnso said almost absently. He picked up his loincloth and fastened it back on while his cock lazily receded into its sheath. "I wonder if the other guys are gonna know what we were up to."

Chance chuckled mischievously "They'd be jealous, not angry. It's a porn studio. People fuck." With a grunt he sat up and grabbed his g-string up off of the floor. "Come on," he said, "I better go get my shoot over with or Floyd's never gonna shut up about it."

--6

Kahnso and Chance neared the set as casually as they could but all eyes were on them. Mark was absent but Floyd, Cobbie and Stripes all regarded Chance and their guest with the most accusatory smiles imaginable. The two remaining studs had long since changed back into street clothes yet their hard bodies were no less obvious in jeans and tees.

"Off doing each other's nails?" Floyd sniped before anybody else could.

The shark left Kahnso's side and left him dead in the water. "I was getting laid. Kahnso's probably got his own story. Floyd, let's get this shoot over with."

While Chance and Floyd occupied one another, Cobbie and Stripes bore down on Kahnso whom was blushing and hanging back. "Already got your hand in the cookie jar, huh?" the cobra smirked.

"Ah, fuck you," Kahnso snapped.

"No, fuck you, boytoy," Cobbie snapped back. Stripes watched with morbid interest and a smile. He elected to let Cobbie have his fun right up until things became violent. He had already drawn his own conclusions about Kahnso, however.

The rockstar turned to the zebra and asked, as he had before, what came next. But before the horse could answer and ostensibly save his guest from Cobbie, the cobra closed the gap and narrowed his eyes. "Don't try to dodge me. You and me both know where this is going."

Despite greater height and similar bulk, Kahnso shied away from Cobbie and warningly splayed back his ears. "I think you got the wrong idea. Maybe I ought to leave." He nodded respectfully at Stripes and wanted to give his farewell to Chance but he was amusingly intimidated by Cobbie. In keeping his eyes trained on the snake right up until he had turned around completely, he betrayed his intimidation.

Cobbie followed Kahnso a moment later and caught the fox in the dressing room. His loincloth was still on but he had his jeans halfway out of his duffel. Cobbie smirked when Kahnso twisted around to hide his bare ass. "Cut it out, all right?"

As cold as ice, Cobbie stepped into the room and braced a chair under the knob just like Chance had done earlier. "I'm gonna level with you right here. I got the feeling you want to get fucked until you curl your toes and if anybody's gonna do it, it oughta be me. Whatever, you fucked Chance. I can tell you got a submissive streak. Nothing wrong with it." While he bore down on Kahnso and let him have it, the fox grimaced, blushed and soon looked ready for a fistfight. Cobbie didn't doubt that Kahnso could put up a good fight but neither did he think he was wrong.

"You came here because you get off on gay porn and you even told me I'm your favorite," he hissed as he fished his fat, flaccid cock out of his fly. Its black length was heady with reptilian musk and a lazy bead of pre oozed from the blunt tip even with no erection behind it. "I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime chance here. I'm gonna pop that alleged cherry of yours." A big, wicked grin flashed across his face. When his hood flared he was that much more sinister. "What do you say? Now or never."

Kahnso peered at Cobbie's dark, familiar cock for a few long seconds. To him they felt like years, if not decades. "You're a bastard."

"Hey, my mom and dad were married," Cobbie smirked. "Quit changing the subject."

"Fuck you," Kahnso hissed. A second later he moaned, "All right, all right, okay?"

"Atta boy," the snake laughed and hissed. "On your knees."

Kahnso balked with fresh indignity. Cobbie shrugged, dropped his pants all the way and kicked them aside. "Either you suck it and get it good and slick or we're gonna see if you can take it up that tight ass dry."

It was then that Kahnso knelt but not without grumbling. That much was fine for Cobbie whom gripped the back of Kahnso's head with one hand and the base of his stiffening length with the other. He waggled its tip in front of Kahnso's nose and once bumped it there where it left a smear of pre. "Open the fuck up already," he deadpanned.

Kahnso parted his lips and Cobbie forced his half-hard cock inside. The cobra sighed and grinned as he found Kahnso's singing tongue to be quite soft while the size of the maw itself was simply accommodating Furthering Cobbie's amusement was the fact that Kahnso started to suck albeit awkwardly, though more pleasure came from humiliating Kahnso than from his actual cocksucking. Kahnso's paws were clasped and resting over his own dormant groin rather than working as they could have been but the snake was content enough in his dominance, if only for the moment.

Exerting his grip on the back of Kahnso's skull and in his hair, Cobbie went to work with deep grinds and his cock soon filled out in that long snout. Kahnso's muzzle was too long for him to force it into the fox's throat which disappointed Cobbie whom had hoped to make Kahnso's vocals rough for a while by doing just that. He resigned himself to a simple facefuck and he went at it with harsh, fast bucks to acclimate Kahnso to his brand of rough loving and fists clenched around the tod's ears as if they were handlebars. He was bucking much too harshly and quickly for Kahnso to suck but the speed at which that soft tongue and ribbed palate ground against his meat made up for the lack of a seal.

In a beautiful display of his hard body Cobbie arched his spine and savagely tossed his hips into every buck. With so much force behind his thrusts, his heavy and thick balls swung up to swat the singer's throat without end and all the while he screwed that blushing, grimacing rockstar in a way very much unfamiliar to him.

But despite how much Cobbie liked to slot his cock between those fangs and ram it home, his goal was to break that muscular ass in. When he yanked out of Kahnso's mouth the fox gasped and fell back on his knees. With splayed ears and watering eyes, Kahnso asked with some hopefulness, "Are you done?"

"Not even fucking close. Get down like a doggy bitch and hoist that tail up," Cobbie ordered.

Reluctantly but with the utmost obedience regardless, Kahnso shucked the loincloth off, fumbled around to his paws and knees and kept his tail high above his taut ass. Cobbie knelt behind the tod and wrenched those ass cheeks apart with his rough hands. "Look at that tight little asshole you got. Yeah, I can tell this thing's never even had a fucking finger in it," he sneered. Sharply he hawked, and then he spat a wad of saliva upon it with decent aim. He used a fingertip to smear it on the pucker and ever so slightly inside, just until he felt Kahnso tense and wince. "Oh, you fucking crybaby," Cobbie cruelly grinned, "you're gonna be in for a rough time..."

"Ah, goddammit," Kahnso moaned. "I'm not sure about this."

Cobbie didn't answer until he had his blunt, hard tip parked against the tod's asshole. That erogenous pressure made Kahnso's sheath swell. "I'm not up for games here. You want me to quit? Yes or no."

Kahnso huffed and bit his lip. "Fuck me, okay? Just get it over with." Before the snake could enter him he bleated, "Is there any booze around here?"

The snake ground forward and gouged Kahnso open with his tip. The rockstar screamed into his grit teeth and pursed lips. Cobbie grinned. "Nope, dry workplace. Now then," he huffed as he wrenched a few more inches steadily inside, "if you wanna come home with me for round two, I'll get you plastered and let you bounce on my dick like a cowboy."

"Fuck you, cocksucker!" Kahnso all but shrieked with his head hung and his eyes clenched shut.

"Maybe next time," Cobbie coldly said. "Right now, your ass is mine, cocksucker." With that he snatched up a bundle of Kahnso's hair and yanked it taught to which Kahnso cried out and clenched like a vise. Cobbie took the opportunity to grind in faster and soon half of his cock was buried in the unaccustomed singer. "Shit, you're a good lay," the snake said with a lewd chuckle.

"My fucking ass," Kahnso gasped, sounding as if he were about to cry. Actually, tears were already running down his cheeks but the anal stimulation had his cock slipping free of its warm sheath. He reached back to grapple with Cobbie's wrist but the snake tugged his hair and dissuaded him from struggling. "Ah, watch the fucking hair!" he yowled.

Cobbie sneered yet said nothing to the fox and neither did he ease up on that pretty black hair. It wasn't until his cock was buried to the hilt that he even made another sound, which turned out to be a long and low groan. Before Kahnso could adjust to the stretch and reconcile the pain, Cobbie started to slide it back. Kahnso's body was trembling, his ass clenching spasmodically while his cock throbbed and shot pre onto the tile. To see him grunting and crying as he took such a pounding would have undoubtedly undone his career and yet that notion was part of the very terse pleasure he got out of the act.

Before the last few inches of his cock could exit Kahnso, Cobbie bucked back in and thus kicked off a brutal reaming which the rockstar would never forget. Through Kahnso's hissing and grunting the cobra thrusted with everything he had and this excessive force was certainly no accident. Cobbie was giving Kahnso the full bottom bitch experience. He knew next to nothing about the fox and had never heard him sing nor read of his alleged sexual exploits and yet he could tell from the swagger and the attitude that Kahnso was a rough and rude asshole when he fucked. Fucking Kahnso so savagely was motivated by Cobbie's own desire to bust a nut and break something pretty but the poetic justice wasn't lost on him.

"I'm gonna jizz in your ass so hard," Cobbie huffed, "that you're gonna fucking taste it next time you belch. You're gonna clench, too!"

A wail of pain precluded Kahnso's defiant reply: "The fuck I am!" But Cobbie jerked his hair and he got the exact clench he wanted not unlike the effect of a donkey punch. That was a practice Cobbie believed was cruel and wrong but yanking hair was good, clean fun. "My hair, my fucking hair, stop it!" Kahnso yelped.

"As long as you got it, I'm gonna make a handle out of it," Cobbie grinned. "Start jerking off, show me you're getting off and I'll ease up on the hair!"

"Goddammit," Kahnso winced. By then the tears had mostly dried as the anal penetration became just vaguely tolerable but Cobbie's jerking grip on his locks had the tears welling up again. He wrapped a paw around his aching, knotted cock and started to pump it hard and fast, the pleasure coming easily to him. He had read enough about anal sex and fucked enough boys to know about prostate stimulation. He assumed that was the only reason Cobbie's reaming was tolerable.

As he promised, Cobbie relaxed his taut hold on Kahnso's hair but he didn't release the rockstar completely. Just the same, he was fucking the bigger stud with the best bucks he had to give. Every thrust saw his balls pendulously swing up to crash into Kahnso's for another, subtler layer to the domination. In his loins he felt the tingle of an orgasm creeping up and he wished to make it count. To make the assfucking more personal he hunkered down over Kahnso and braced his heavy hands on the floor. Hunched over Kahnso's heaving back then, Cobbie rutted him like a mating dog. His taut hide crashed so harshly into Kahnso's furry body that a constant, fleshy smack permeated the room and overrode the wet smacks of Kahnso's hurried masturbation.

Cobbie was grinning hugely and toothily as he fucked Kahnso with every ounce of strength in his studly body. He could feel the rockstar quivering in pleasure and pain and his tight asshole was doing a similar dance as he tried to cope with the discomfort and awkwardness of penetration.

"Oh god, ooh, fucking shit," Kahnso whined under his breath. It defied logic and his masculinity but he was ready to cum. It wasn't instinct but raw lust which saw him force his ass back into Cobbie's thrusts. The snake took the hint and hissed with lewd vitriol into one of Kahnso's splayed ears. Upon it he nipped and bit, once drawing a tiny and almost unnoticeable speck of blood.

"Fucking foxes," Cobbie grunted in a chuckle. It was the start of a joke he didn't get to finish. His balls were drawing up taut to his loins and the bliss that was release finally washed over him like a tidal wave. A deep and obliging croon of total pleasure erupted from his lips and it reverberated in Kahnso's ear as he shot his wad, the load coming as one rope after another to sully Kahnso's freshly-deflowered asshole. "Goddamn, you take that fucking cum," he grunted into Kahnso's nape with a shudder. "Fuck... You gonna cum for me or what? I was nice, I left your fag hair alone."

Kahnso was alternately grimacing and panting as he jerked his cock in quick bursts. After a few strokes he paused to grope the knot as if milking the whole shaft. Within ten seconds of Cobbie's impatient query the fox clenched involuntarily around Cobbie's rock-hard, post-orgasm cock and the resultant pressure on his sore anal walls intensified his climax in ways not even rave drugs and autoerotic asphyxia had done for Kahnso. Despite having blasted a thick load up Chance's ass, he painted the tile with a colossal orgasm which left him trembling on his hands and knees. Had Cobbie not been holding him up he would have collapsed in his own manslop. A moment later and with a grin, Cobbie fell on top of the rockstar and forced him to do exactly that, to lie in his mess and be as beneath Cobbie as he possibly could.

"Holy fucking shit," Kahnso bleated.

"That's what they all say," Cobbie hissed. "You gonna come home with me and Stripes tonight?"

Dizzy after such an orgasm and still reeling from the pain, Kahnso huffed, "Uhn, yeah... Sure."

"That's right... Atta boy," Cobbie darkly chuckled.