FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Finally, a whole new chapter. Its not very long, but that's simply because I've been wanting to get past this chapter for 2 long years now. It has sat unfinished in a word document fr far too long. Well, I have kicked my writers block to the curb. I feel good about what I written. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and I will try to make the next chapter sooner than 2 years. lol.

Butch climbed into the seat of Mr. Fenton's car. It was set at an uncomfortable angle and he had to adjust it before he could get situated. Mr. Fenton gave him a soft chuckling smile and apologized.

"Sorry 'bout the chair. No one sits there but the dog and he is small, so, never had to move the seat." He buckled himself into the car as he said so, turning the ignition on. Butch fastened his seat belt as the car pulled out of the parking space and they were off.

For the most part the drive was pleasant, as the topic of conversations rolled from how school was going to what he was struggling with in class. Butch responded tersely but made sure not to sound grumpy or distant. He did care about his grades after all. They made idle math talk, discussing various homework assignments and things he struggled with in the past. For the most part, as the car trip went on, Butch felt more confident in his ability to make it through this week unscathed.

Before Butch realized it, the car swung into a small neat shoveled driveway, and Mr. Fenton turned the car off and unbuckled. "We are here. Welcome back to my house. Need a hand with any of your stuff?"

"No, I've got it. Thanks though." Butch hopped out and grabbed his bag and his duffel, slinging them one over each shoulder. He waited on the tall teacher to gather his belongings from the small red car; a few books and a satchel, likely stuffed with other books and teacher related things. The Bull closed his door and headed for the house.

The house wasn't particularly large; just a one story building with a brick exterior. Inside the front door, a narrow hallway leads to the left, with a small closet to the right. The hallway then leads right where two doors occupy the walls on either side. The left door leads to a small bedroom, which Mr. Fenton also uses as a workout room. The right hand door leads to the study, a small central room with a desk, chair, couch and a large bookshelf that takes up one entire wall. Beyond the little hall is the main living space. Simplicity is the word that best fits its décor. A long sectional couch and a recliner sit arranged around a flat screen tv. A door from the living room on the same wall as the guest bedroom leads to the bathroom. On the opposite side of the living room is a dining room connected to a small kitchen. The last door in the house leads to Mr. Fenton's bedroom from which a series of small barks were escaping. It was the biggest bedroom in the house, and one Butch was hoping not to get caught in.

"You can stow your stuff in the spare bedroom. You'll be staying in there for the week. Feel free to get comfortable, there are dressers and such you can use." The large bull strutted off to his bedroom leaving Butch to his thoughts in the hallway. Butch opened the door to his new room. The furnishings were sparse. One large bed was pushed into the corner, and a dresser was located next to it. The rest of the room was occupied with a full length mirror, a set of lifting weights, and a treadmill. Nothing fancy, but the basics of what you'd need if you were interested in physical fitness.

Butch tossed his backpack onto the bed and dropped the duffel in front of the dresser. He opened up the top left drawer to see if it was empty. It was. He unzipped his bag and took out the shirts he had brought with him. Most were a collection of random t-shirts; some nifty designs emblazoned across the chest. He also had a few nicer shirts, because he liked having the ability to dress nicely. Even if he doesn't always do so. He closed that drawer then, and opened the drawer just to the right. Unlike the first, it was occupied. This drawer held a collection of short work out trunks, a towel, small water bottles... and a collection of jockstraps.

Butch thought it was funny how he always seemed to be able to pick them. He could almost always tell what kind of guy wore jocks. And despite his change of heart when it came to sleeping with the teacher, a dark desire urged him to touch the folded fabric. To hold them and smell them. Such perverted thoughts assaulted him and it was all he could do to shut the drawer fast and shake his head to clear the thoughts. He opened the drawer beneath the first one. It was empty, thankfully. He took to filling it with his extra pants and undergarments, placing them neatly in the space beside his pants.

As he was placing the last of his underwear in the drawer, a purple jock brief, Mr. Fenton poked his head around the corner and knocked on the door frame. Butch's hands shot forward and slammed the drawer shut in shock, and turned to look at the large bull, wide eyed, before shaking it off, "You startled me."

"Pardon; it wasn't my intent." The bull stepped into the room, and Butch glanced at his new attire. He'd never seen the bull outside of a button up, suspenders and slacks. Now all he was wearing was a white tank top, and grey cargo pants. Mr. Fenton smiled widely at Butch. "I just want to let you know I got some steaks out to thaw. That ok with you?"

"Yeah, sure! Steak sounds delicious." Butch grinned and slid his empty duffel bag under the bed.

"Want anything besides steak? Garlic bread? Mashed potatoes? Maybe a vegetable medley?"

"Um.... The bread and vegetable medley sounds good." The young dingo glanced around the room awkwardly. "Quite the set up here."

"It's not, really. Just a few weights. I'll go start chopping up those vegetables then. Feel free to get comfortable. Explore. My home is your home, like usual."

Butch thought back on the other times he had been in Mr. Fenton's home. It had always been very innocent those times. He wondered if he'd be able to make it just as innocent this time. So far it seemed alright. Boosted with encouragement he asked, "We'll be in the study again this time, right? Mind if I use the computer?"

The bull gave it a quick thought and nodded, "sure go ahead. Just don't blow anything up." He laughed and left the dingo behind, thin tail brushing against his thighs. Butch grimaced but left the room and entered the study across the hall. It was quiet inside, but comfortable. The computer hummed on the small desk set to one side, and Butch took a seat in front of it, flicking the monitor on and browsing over the icons on the screen.

He double clicked the browser icon and quickly logged into his email service. He tabbed through his contacts until he reached Coach's name. Richard McClure. He pulled open a new email and sat at the computer poised to write. He thought over all the feelings he'd been having, all the thoughts he'd pondered over. What to say, how to say it.

No words came.

*****

Deaton Fenton hummed quietly to himself as he chopped vegetables. He had carrots and broccoli and cauliflower. For the most part he was just cutting the carrots and shaving the outer layer a bit, but he enjoyed cooking, and for once he had a special someone over to cook for. He wasn't entirely sure how this week was going to progress, but he could tell one thing. His student had the hots for him. He'd been on to the dingo for weeks now. The way he stared, his awkward behavior around him; even that cute stammer his voice took ONLY when talking to the bull. He had noticed it all.

When the dingo asked if he could spend winter break with him, he thought the young pup was finally making a move. Truth be told, he wasn't opposed to the thought. Lord knows he hadn't had a date in forever. With neither man nor woman; so he figured, why not? Have the pup over for the week, let him feel confident, make it clear his affections weren't unwelcome and he was safe to explore the probably confusing thoughts running through his mind.

He picked up the cutting board of carrots and slid them into a strainer, and then carried that over to the sink with a decided spring in his step. As he rinsed off the carrots he continued musing over his student. He was quite attractive. And the way his tail wiggled was adorable. Sleeping with him wouldn't be difficult for the bull at all, but only if the dingo had the courage to get what he wanted. He'd been brave enough just to ask to stay, Deaton had thought.

Deaton had told himself he would encourage the boy, maybe a guiding hand was what the boy needed. So he decided that any and all moves he put on the boy would be just to boost his confidence and give him the motivation to flirt freely. Perhaps he'd even make the boy blush, goodness how he thought that would be cute as hell.

When the carrots were successfully washed, he dumped the strainer into a pot, and grabbed the head of fresh broccoli. He made quick work of cutting it into smaller florets, along with the cauliflower, rinsing both simultaneously. He tossed them in the same pot as the carrots, scooped a few spoonfuls of butter in and put a lid on it. With the vegetables happily simmering away, he turned to the two steaks sitting on a second cutting board. They were thawed enough that when he handled them they weren't stiff as a bone, and so he seasoned them up and put them in a broiling pan to stick in the oven.

*****

When dinner was finally done, Butch heard Mr. Fenton's deep throaty call for him to come eat. He closed the internet browser in defeat, still having not been able to write anything in the email he was hoping to send to Richard. It was getting easier to think of his Coach by that name though. Butch found that to be comforting.

He turned the monitor back off and exited the study, the smells of mouthwatering food wafting to his nostrils down the narrow hallway. He made his way to the dining room, where he was greeted by the bull. The lights in the kitchen were still on, even though all the food was assembled onto two plates on the table. A few candles were on the table, and Mr. Fenton was lighting all of them one by one with a small lighter. It looked... romantic. The setting made Butch suddenly nervous; worried that Mr. Fenton had figured him out.

"What's with all the candles?"

"Oh, it's just for light, the overhead lights don't work, I need to buy new bulbs, but I haven't gotten around to it. I hope you don't mind." He put down the lighter and pulled a chair out for Butch. "I just figured it would be better if we could see what we were eating." He smiled widely and patted the back of the chair. "Sit. Eat."

Butch went and took the seat that was offered to him. Mr. Fenton took the seat opposite. The meal started in silence. An unbearable silence. The entire time, Butch could feel Mr. Fenton's gaze on him, as if he was expecting him to say something. It was uncomfortable, and Butch quickly found himself staring at his plate to try and avoid the feeling.

The candles flickered between the two aggressively, announcing the growing tension with their constant wavering. They'd billow in the direction of Butch one moment, and then just as quickly waft toward the handsome face of the bull, his features soft in the fire's light. Butch tried desperately to disappear from his gaze, those bull eyes beaming at him. There was a smug satisfaction in those eyes, as though he knew he was making Butch uncomfortable, and yet just kept staring; reveling in the discomfort the older man was giving the youth at his table.

Butch quickly found it difficult to take a bite of any of the food, his nerves getting the better of him. He put down his fork and just slowly chewed a single bite of meat. It was juicy, tough, and quite delicious.

"There something wrong with the food?" Mr. Fenton poked.

Butch's eyes snapped to the face of his teacher, his calm demeanor at odds with Butch's inner turmoil. He couldn't stand this scrutiny, and yet... Now he was doubting its presence. Suddenly he wasn't sure if he was just making himself uncomfortable, or whether his teacher really had been staring holes in his head... The thought that perhaps he was bringing this on himself made him feel worse instead of better however, and his ears sank an inch as he let out the softest of whines. After a breath he responded, "No, the food is delicious. Thank you so much for making it."

Mr. Fenton smiled wide, flat teeth showing through. "Well eat up, and if you want I have enough meat here to get you good and stuffed!" Butch's eyes widened and he tried not to let it register on his face where his mind had gone. Yet Mr. Fenton had said it so dead pan and matter of fact, he wasn't really sure if the teacher had even realized the horrid sex pun he'd just tossed out there.

Butch took a sigh and shook his head, casting the shadowed thoughts from his head. "Thank you Mr. Fenton." He let his words out slowly so as to make sure not to come back with ANYTHING that could be remotely an innuendo. "But I think I have enough on my plate. I don't think I could eat more." He took another bite and chewed while cutting his steak to bits.

Mr. Fenton chuckled as Butch chewed. "A young man such as yourself should be allowed to satisfy his cravings fully. So you be sure to come to me with your needs. I won't discourage you." He talked as though he meant food, but the wink he gave Butch suggested otherwise. Nerves ran wild in the dingo, and his ears twitched. "After all, I did say I'd take care of you over winter break. Anything in my house is open to your pleasure. There are no rules here."

Butch swallowed his food and pushed his plate away from him. All that remained were a few bites of steak and a sprig of cauliflower. "Um... thank you sir. I think I'm finished though. Should I do anything with my plate?" The bull gestured towards the sink in the kitchen and Butch cleaned up his dinner.

"It's getting pretty late, you should probably get ready for bed. I will clean up the rest of dinner." Mr. Fenton picked his plate up and went to put it in the sink as well. Butch immediately took the plate from him before he had a chance.

"I will clean up here. I don't mind doing dishes. Why don't you go and let me clean up here. Really. I've got this." He smiled hoping that the bull would go to his room or something. He really just wanted to do the dishes to take his mind off things. He had the distinct impression his teacher WAS in fact flirting with him, and it was playing ticks on his mind.

The bull ruffled Butch's head fur "well thank you very much. Such a good pup. You sure know how to treat a guy." Butch blushed and turned away from the bull. For his part Mr. Fenton chuckled and then patted the dingo's lower back. "You have fun now, I'm going to go relax." The older man left the kitchen and went into his bedroom, softly closing the door to his room apart from a small crack. Small barks could be heard, as well as the man talking softly to his dog.

Before anything else, Butch scratched the remains of food into the garbage, then rinsed off the plates and utensils. He blew out the candles, their smoke gently wafting from the still bright red wicks. His hands were shaky as he cleared off the table, wiping away small messes from their meal. His stomach was doing flips as he reflected over his predicament. As he finished up, he paused in the dining room for a moment before cautiously flicked the switch to the overhead lights.

There wasn't even a pause before they lit up the room brightly. There was nothing wrong with the lights. So the candles had just been... for what. Was his teacher really trying to make the scene more... romantic? He swatted his hand over the light switch before also turning off the kitchen lights.

The door to Mr. Fenton's bedroom swung open and the bull stepped out. It was now dark in the outer rooms of the house; the only light coming streaming from the door behind his large muscular body. A small dog poked its head around his masters leg, but Butch barely registered its small form. Instead, he was staring wide eyed at his professor, who was wearing nothing but a pair of very loose trunks, hanging low on his hips like they didn't want to remain there.

Butch's eyes roved over the exposed masculinity before him; taking in the hard pectorals, perky nipples, and wide stomach silhouetted in the doorframe. The trunks hiding his loins were striped two shades of blue, and there was a very distinct bulge just barely hinted at in the dim light. Instinct rose in Butch like a monster, causing his mouth to water as his manhood fought against the confines of his drawers. He forced himself to lock eyes with his teacher, the green irises glowing with tease.

"All the dishes done?" The bull seemed drowsy and leaned against the door frame. Butch just nodded assuredly.

"Why don't you go to bed Mr. Fenton... you look tired."

The teacher laughed louder than expected before yawning out, "not until I see you off to bed. I know how you teenagers are. I go to bed and you'll just stay up all night. No, I am going with you to make sure you get in bed. No ifs ands or buts." He crossed his arms and walked towards Butch, his trunks barely keeping their place on his meaty hips.

Butch just took a step back. His teacher took lead and it was all he could do to just follow meekly towards his bedroom by the hall. The bull's back was thick with muscle, and this time he could see every detail from shoulders to buttocks, light embellishing the truth with defining shadows. Butch tried to look away, but curiosity overwhelmed him and he found himself exploring the cleft of his teacher's ass with his eyes. His short thin tail graced through a very worn tail slit and lazily whipped to and fro with each step.

He shook his head quickly and then scooted in front of his teacher, blocking passage into his room. "I think I can take it from here."

Bull headed, Mr. Fenton just brushed him aside and entered the room. Butch's heart began to pound, nervous about what the bull might do. "I need to see that you get to bed, boy, and I am not leaving this room until you are." Butch groaned, only now realizing how much like a child his teacher was treating him...

"Fine, I will get in bed now." He sat on the bed's edge and pulled back the covers as if to climb into them. "Will you lea-"

"Boy, what do you think you are doing?? Don't try and tell me you sleep in your day clothes, jeans and everything..." Butch let his words die in his throat as the older man yelled at him. His tone was dripping with authority, and Butch's libido was eating the new manner up. His ears pulled back and his tail drooped and he couldn't bring himself to look his teacher in the eye any longer. Worse than that, he was painfully hard now. "Get out of those clothes now. Sleep in the nude, like a man."

Butch just nodded, unsure what else to do. "I ..."

"Come on boy, strip. NOW"

Butch just sat there, hiding his tent while frantically trying to think of a way out of this scenario. "I can't... not with you... watching."

"Bullshit. I am sure you strip in front of other guys all the time. In the locker room, with your coach and the other students." He thumbed his fingers on his arm as he waited for the pup to move. "This isn't any different."

Butch shook his head. It was different. Very different. He usually stripped in a quiet corner of the locker room, when there wasn't anyone around to really see. Or, he'd be stripping in front of Richard. In which case he would be giddily excited about the sex he was about to have. The thought of changing in front of Richard only furthered his aching erection. But, it did also give him a little courage. He realized, it could be like any of those times. Just, totally normal. It didn't mean anything. He stood up, and with a breath, tore his shirt up over his head. He turned away from his teacher then and unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to his ankles.

It was then he recalled what type of underwear he was wearing... standing in nothing but a black jock, a red stripe running down the length of his pouch. It complimented his figure, and framed his ass... putting it proudly on display for his teacher. He cursed himself. Stupid dream. In what universe did wearing a jockstrap in the dream make a damned difference at the end of the day. When trying not to get fucked by your teacher, wearing a jock over to their house probably isn't a great first step.... If only he had thought a little bit further forward.

Couldn't be helped now. He just stood there, back turned to the bull. His teacher. Whom he just had a candle lit dinner with, and was now being ordered to undress in front of. He was fairly sure Mr. Fenton must have known of his original feelings towards the man. He was definitely flirting with him, and was now pushing for something more. Butch couldn't keep running. It was too much to try.

He felt breathing on his neck, and he turned his head to look at the other man. He was caught off guard to find him directly behind him. "Boy," he whispered into the smaller dogs ear, "I appreciate the view, but I do believe I said_naked_." And with that, the bull hooked his thumbs into the dingo's jock and tugged it down. "I can tell you are nervous. It is so cute how shy you are. You've been eyeing me all semester like a piece of meat. I just wanted you to know," and here he hugged the dog around the middle, his warm hands against the fur of Butch's belly, scritching lightly, "that your attention isn't unwanted, and you are more than welcome to act on it. I know how hard it can be when you are young. Your hormones all out of control, making you feel unfamiliar things that you just don't know how to act on. But, I can be your mentor in more than just math."

Butch just stood there, dumbfounded. From gruff math tutor to sexual confident in seconds... The closeness of the man, was turning him on like nobody's business. He could smell the half arousal of the bull, and feel his thickness pressed against his naked body. It would be so easy to give in to it right now.

"Just know you don't have to leave this house a virgin. If you want to." He smoothed the front of Butch's fur down until his hand was flat against his groin, just an inch above his throbbing maleness. Butch couldn't believe what his teacher was saying. More ironically, he thought he was a virgin. He supposed it made sense for him to come to this conclusion, as he was not aware of his sexual history with Richard, which he was NOT about to divulge to anyone. However a very lusty part of his brain was excited at the prospect of being treated like a virgin. The idea was just so... exciting to Butch.

Before he could even react though, the warmth behind him receded and he was left, wanting, against the side of his bed. He looked to the bull to find him standing in the doorway, his hand in his trunks, adjusting himself. It was another turn on to Butch, and he felt like weeping at how confused he was getting.

"Think on it. My door is always open. See you in the morning." He winked again at Butch, shut off the bedroom light, and left. Butch took a seat on the edge of the bed, his jock still around his ankles where Mr. Fenton had dropped it. He was turned on, and wanted sex. That familiar feeling in his mind begging him to get laid. In his mind he could just imagine what it would be like. To run naked to Mr. Fenton's room, climb into bed with him, and straddle the older man's cock. Or maybe if he left now to catch him in the living room. How hot it would be if the man just smiled, shoved him to his knees and slid his fat cock down Butch's throat.

Or to call out for him, and just stay where he was. Roll back on the bed and have the man lift his legs above his head and spear his "virgin" tail with that bull pecker. Such fantasies fueled the fire of Butch's libido... but they were just that. Fantasies. Not grounded in reality, and with little thought about repercussion or consequence.

And what about Richard? The man who had just professed his love to him, only to be rejected out of... what? Uncertainty, he guessed. Would it be unfaithful if he had sex with the bull? Except... it had been Richard in the first place that urged Butch to pursue his math teacher in the first place. Or rather... he had urged him to find other men that he was interested in and pursue them.

Why would he have done that if he loved him though? Or had he not loved him at the time? Did Richard not want him to have sex with the bull anymore? Would having sex with him hurt his chances with Richard? Or could he have both? Richard and Mr. Fenton. Is that even something he wanted. And for that matter, did he ACTUALLY want to have sex with this man, or was that just those crazy hormones he was talking about in play here... He wasn't sure. But he was sexually frustrated, emotionally drained, and tired. He wasn't really sure how or when he had climbed into the bed, but with these things on his mind, he somehow found himself to sleep.