FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I'm open for COMMISSIONS! If you want your own story, then go here.

This is the start of a new series of stories that I'll be including various fuuuurrrrrriends. You can be included as well in a commission if you so do desire. :) Hope to have the latest updated commission info.

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Part 2: Oops!

"Riko!"

Pant, pant, pant, pant! "I'm coming, I'm coming, sir!"

It was the last coffee delivery that morning. Mr. Shirman never changed, and I thanked God for that. "Where the fuck are you? You should've been here five minutes ago at the least!"

I nearly tripped over my feet as I raced down the office aisles and past the cubicles, latte in my paw and tie blowing up against my ears. As his cubicle neared, I slowed down, barely scraping past a few of the other workers--a cat and a squirrel--in the process.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I almost choked on the words in between pants and sharp gasps. "There was a line and they were out of your favorite cream, and, and..."

"Shut up!" He held out his paw. "Hand it over." The black and white badger with dark grey eyes, looked away from me, his snide expression more than enough to turn my gaze as well.

As soon as I placed the drink in his paw he pointed to a stack of papers and said, "Those are for Zabroni."

In a moment of clarity, I asked, "Have you...been waiting for me to take them to him?"

He turned to me, smiling widely after his first sip. "Of course I have, intern."

My lips slowly raised up my fangs as a deep growl rumbled around in my throat, ears folding back and a huff escaping from my lungs. Wordlessly, I grabbed the stack of papers and started my journey to the highest floor of the building--where the big bear in charge, Sir Isaac Mayhew Zabroni, resided.

I pressed my nose against the button of the elevator and, to my surprise, it opened immediately, earning a sigh of relief and my deepest gratitude. I walked into the small, musky space with the sweat of middle aged furs stuck in the air. "Bleh," I groaned.

One by one, the elevator went up, stopped, and picked someone up along the way only for them to leave a few moments later. God, at this rate I'll be seventy when we get there...

The past three months had been the hardest I'd ever lived--for no pay no less. Standing there in the elevator, holding a stack of papers meant for the creation of toys I don't even have the time for anymore my mood quickly soured. So many hours and days were wasted on this 'job' that I wasn't even getting compensation, recognition, or appreciation for. How could I ever think this was a good idea?

Ding! "Oh. We're here," I said aloud. I walked ahead down a red, velvet carpet. The only source of light from the narrow hall were the windows--completely lining both sides of the walls, so I was blasted with far more sun that I'd ever need.

At the end of the hall was an empty desk I was left to assume belonged to the secretary. Eh, I probably don't need her permission anyway. How much of an interruption can I be? To be safe, I pressed my ear against the tall, steel door leading to his room. Hmm...Just some grunting. He's probably trying to get out of his chair or something, I thought to myself as I snickered.

I opened the door and walked into the room, but as soon as I turned to the desk to set the papers down I froze. My eyes were locked on my snow furred boss--my boss holding his fully exposed black, short cock and grunting as he thrust into it, pre-cum squirting onto a pillow across from the couch he jerked over.

He didn't notice me at first, his eyes were glued to the screen in front of him and from the corner of my eye I could see what he was watching: two male furs using his products. The sight was unbelievable and for a few moments, logic failed me. Words could hardly describe the emotions, thoughts, or sensations running through me, but the tightening around my dress pants told me that one part of me was still in full command.

Mr. Zabroni opened his mouth, his tongue hanging out as he began to pant and thrust harder into his paw, his other squeezing his sack. Even as embarrassment--for him and myself--started setting in, I couldn't look away.

My own paw started to drift downward, gently rubbing against and stroking the outline of my hardened canine prick kept away by the fine, smooth, silk cloth. By mistake, I let out a whimper, and his head immediately turned to me.

Our eyes met and widened simultaneously--I don't even remember which one of us screamed first. I turned and bolted out of the room, leaving the papers on the floor and scattering some of the strays down the hall with my feet as I ran.

It was that bad.