FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Something the matter, dear?"

Louis sits in front of his mason jar of overnight oats, grumbling and with heavy bags under his eyes.

"Mmngrh…"

"Is there anything I can do?"

His mother's words bore into his head like a drill to a dam. If she dug too deep, then the whole thing could break.

"Just stuff…"

"Like what?"

"Stuff."

His mother frowned, patting his head. "Well, you get some rest today. I'm going to be working late again."

Rushing down the stairs is Louis's sister, who grabs her keys and flips on her jacket. "I'm heading out!"

"To where, dear?" their mom asks.

"Just out," she responds, closing the door behind her.

They would both be gone. He would well and truly be alone.

"Well, you seem better already," his mom says, heading off.

Once she closes the door, Louis is left with thoughts and a slight throbbing in his head.

That whole night, he lay there, naked, sweaty, fighting the urge to beat his meat under the covers. This led to a restless night.

When did he go to sleep?

Did he go to sleep?

And the dream he had…?

Oh, hell, the dream.

It was all a swirl, mostly of emotions. His heart races, still thinking about everything that went on during and after that roller coaster of emotion. Try as he might, the menagerie of the random nonsense that led to the conclusion was gone. All that was left was that moment when he and that girl were in the bathroom, or was it the bedroom, and she sat on top of him, and she rode him,

Oh, so rough.

Oh, so good.

But way too quick.

It was like heaven for those scant seconds he felt her body. However, he could hardly explain the sensation as it was quickly superseded by the explosive rush of climax!

It was a climax that shocked him to realize he was in bed in the dark night.

It was a climax that kept going and going, shooting up, releasing more and more cum than he thought he'd ever had welled up inside him.

It was a climax, leaving him panting and scrambling to get out of bed.

A climax that got all over his sheets and his blankets and his body.

He would lay there even longer, spread out, panting. He placed his hand on his chest and slid down. The glisten of sweat was soon replaced with the warm sliminess of his smeared jizz.

"Oh fuck…"

What followed was an uncomfortable switching sides on his bed and trying to avoid stained sheets. Just what he had feared had come to pass, and he felt so sick lying in bed.

But now that he's alone, he can wash his clothes and sheets.

Now that he's alone, he doesn't have to bother with how he dresses as he cleans them.

Louis stomps down the stairs, all of his sheets in a basket. He carries it pressed against his naked stomach, the cold basket drawing warmth from his smooth body. He wears his glasses, of course, but also his long striped stockings and matching arm warmers, another item he had delivered, but had not the chance to wear until now.

Even after that rough night and even with how tired he is, the very fact that he can dress up like this, just doing normal everyday things while in such a kinky display, means so much to him.

It's private.

It's not hurting anyone.

He's not some kind of degenerate or freak.

He's just a person who wants to try new things and loves the new things that he tries.

So, Louis does some chores, humming to himself as he fills the washer. Once done, he sits on top of the thing, pulling out his phone and swapping through some of his daily apps.

He stops swiping, his thumb hovering over the icon of a calculator app. The second one is on his phone. It's an app he had installed, deleted, and reinstalled years ago, but he had yet to do much with it.

Gulping, he presses the button.

But it's not numbers that fill the screen. Instead, it is the profiles of many men in his area, or rather mostly the bodies of the men, with a few smiling faces.

"Am I that desperate?" He says, looking down over himself to his bare, bald, and slightly sticky tummy. He rubs his poking-out cock with his thigh, hiding it tucked between his legs. He then raises his phone, fumbles through his often-unused phone app, and aims.

It must be an art form for people to get just the right images for their profiles online, as it takes him multiple shots from different angles to get things right. But once he's done, he has an idea where one gloved hand strokes over his collar, his thigh-highs peek through, his feet just barely in the frame, and most of the identifying features of his laundry room are out of the way. Biting his lip so hard he could almost taste the iron, Louis inputs the picture to his profile.

He sits there momentarily, lamenting how difficult the search feature is for the whole app, and closes it, going on his way. After all, he must kill time waiting for the laundry to go.

As he heads over to plop on the recliner, he lounges on it, one leg over an arm and his back pressed against the back. He feels like a king on his throne, even though he's just watching videos online.

But as he loads up the latest meme compilation, he gets a notification.

And another one.

And another one.

And another…