FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The shop caught Charles eye as he strolled through the mall. It was new and in one of those small, overly cramped spaces that always seemed to have difficulty staying in business. This new shop didn’t seem like it’d be much different; mid May hardly seemed the best time to open a costume shop. Still, the sign proclaimed the new store to be a place called “Exotic Costumes”. Rather than having a visible display there was little more than a wall with a door in it, albeit a glass door. Plastered on the wall were a number of pictures, presumably of the costumes. If so they were certainly good quality; nothing about them looked fake and even the ones with extra limbs like tails or wings looked entirely real.

That said, even the largest of the pictures was only a couple of feet high. It was entirely possible that the costumes looked worse in person. Despite that, it was clear that the decidedly less human costumes would be impressive regardless of how realistic they appeared. In a few of the pictures, he couldn’t even tell how the person inside the costume could possibly fit.

He wasn’t looking for a costume, and certainly not in mid-May, he was otherwise finished shopping. Taking a look couldn’t hurt; the pictures were impressive and it wasn’t like entering the store actually obligated him to buy anything.

His impression of the inside was much the same as the outside. It was filled with a combination of posters and numerous plain wooden shelves. The merchandise (or at least, what he presumed was the merchandise) was packed into numerous nearly identical cardboard boxes, each barely four or five inches to a side. From the door, he could see a plain white label standing out on each.

The only other person in the store was an elderly looking gentleman resting on a stool behind a counter barely large enough for the cash register and the device for taking credit cards. The gentleman was refined, looking out of place much the way a suit would when surrounded by shorts and t-shirts.

“Good afternoon,” the gentleman said. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Charles shrugged. “Not really. I was walking by and noticed the posters you had up outside. The costumes in them look absolutely incredible.”

The man gave Charles a sly smile. “And you’re wondering if that’s actually what my costumes look like? Oh don’t look so surprised; everyone has that reaction. I can assure you that my work is every bit as good, if not better, than those pictures suggest. I have personally handcrafted each design and each is every bit as real as it’s possible for them to be.

“Of course,” he said with a chuckle, “you have no particular reason to believe me and I’d have every reason to say that even if it wasn’t true. That’s why I’m having a sale to get my name out there.”

“A sale?” Charles glanced around the shop, then towards the door; nowhere could he see any indication of a sale. “Shouldn’t you be advertising it then?”

“Yes,” the man said with a sigh, “I really should get some. But that takes time, which I’ve been spending just getting everything in place here even to the basic level it’s at. And it takes money; you wouldn’t believe what it costs to lease a place this small. Until I get the chance to actually make some I’m really hoping for some word of mouth. Not that that’s going particularly well either; you’re my first customer today.”

“Good luck with the advertising,” Charles said. As much as he might wish the man luck with his store, he didn’t seem to have much of a business plan or, indeed, any plan at all. It would take a lot of luck for the place to be a success. Doubly so as none of the actual merchandise seemed to be on display. “Is there a particular reason you don’t have any actual costumes were they can be seen?”

“Sadly, my work doesn’t display well. Each of the boxes you see contains a single costume, but the material is almost shapeless unless it’s being worn and it never looks right on a mannequin; the posters are the best solution I’ve come up with so far.”

He suddenly broke into a smile that lit up his face. “But the same properties that make my work so hard to display also give it its one-size-fits-all properties; young adults, the, ah, heavily built, even those with missing limbs can all wear my costumes without difficulty.” A frown made the briefest of appearances but quickly vanished. “Well, someone missing one or both hands might have trouble, or with other physical limitations, but not for any reason related to my costumes themselves.”

“Really?” Charles tried to imagine how the same costume could work for radically different builds; surely the costume would look either loose or stretched on at least some people?

“Of course! It’s a great savings, both for me and for my costumers. I can stock the widest variety without needing to worry someone falling in love with something only to find out I don’t have it in their size. My costumes are also self-cleaning; they neither can be nor need to be laundered. You can share them with friends without worry, though what customers I have so far are far too possessive of them for that.” The man chuckled.

Charles looked over to the shelves of boxes. Nothing about them suggested any of the nearly miraculous things the gentleman was promising him. Of course, if they really were all that was being claimed the business might have some hope of success after all. Picking one at random he held it up, reading the label: “Gryphon (Q), Male”. Below that was the price; it put him more in mind of department store costumes than the high-quality, speciality products being described.

“Don’t forget,” the man said, “they’re half off the listed price.”

“The listed price? Really? I mean, I know you said you were having a sale, but with this price I thought you’d already marked it down.”

“No, that really is the full price. I am fortunate that once a costume has been designed, the materials cost and the labour to actually produce them are both pretty minimal. I should probably mention, though, that it will wear out after a couple of years.”

“It’ll need replaced after a couple years of regular use?” Charles took a moment to think how often one might wear a costume, even a really good one. He could not think of many occasions.

“Ah, no, sorry. That’s a couple of years of actual use. As long as it’s stored properly, only the time it’s actually being worn counts.”

Charles blinked; with how often he could see wearing a costume that might well be a lifetime’s use.

“I wasn’t really planning on getting a costume, certainly not at this time of year. But you know what? Why not? Halloween may be a bit off yet, but my boss does like throwing his Halloween costume parties. You take Visa?”

The man chuckled again. “And you can’t be sure I’ll still be here closer to the date? I don’t blame you on that one. Sure, Visa’ll do.”

Charles handed over his card and moments later the costume of his.

“You should make sure to try it on when you get home; I may provide a guarantee, but it’s not going to last until Halloween and even my work is sometimes flawed.”

Charles nodded. “Thanks. I will.” Then, tossing the box with the costume in the bag with his other purchases for the day, he finally left for home.

When Charles got home he started putting his day’s purchases away. As he hadn’t planned on purchasing a costume and he hadn’t decided where to keep it he left the box with the costume on his dining room table. And there it was forgotten until he sat down to eat that evening.

When he did notice it once more it was as he was finishing his evening meal. He reached out, picking it up and opening it to take a look inside. The box was small enough that it was hard to believe that any costume, never mind one as realistic as he’d been promised, was inside.

The first thing he found inside was a piece of white paper with heavy black text: “WARNING: Costume wings do not permit flight. Do not attempt to fly while wearing costume.” That seemed obvious, but he supposed it was inevitable what with laws being what they were. Below this was another slip of paper, this one with much more interesting text. At least according to the title at the top of the page it was the instructions. Below the page of instructions was a black mass of tangled material that was almost certainly the costume itself. It unravelled as he pulled it out, unfolding into a nearly shapeless mass of rubbery material that was unbelievably thin. How it could possibly result in such a realistic costume was beyond him, but it would be easy enough to find out.

But first he finished his meal, eating quickly and paying little attention to what was left of his food. Which was for the best really; living alone had done surprisingly little for his culinary skills. He read through the directions as he finished eating. They were brief and quite to the point albeit rather hard to believe.

Meal done, he dumped the dishes in the sink and grabbed the mass of material that was his new costume. He took it into the living room, the largest open space in his rather small apartment.

Then he paused awkwardly; the instructions said the costume was not intended to be worn over clothing. Which made sense. With the material as thin as it was it was easy to imagine that even the lightest clothing would be visible. What was attention grabbing was the amount of emphasis the directions had put on this point. Nothing, they claimed, not even the most minimal undergarment, was to be worn.

Well, at least he was alone in his apartment although he could see it being a problem if he wanted to wear the costume anywhere else. He stripped, tossing his clothes onto his sofa, then standing naked and holding the mass of the costume before him.

It fell into three pieces. For a moment he feared it’d fallen apart, then realized it was supposed to be separate parts. There was a head, a shirt with very limp and empty looking wings attached, and pants with a similarly limp tail.

Might as well start at the bottom. He held up the pants and looked at them; visually they were not impressive, just matte black leggings with a limp tail and what were presumably feet. They were entirely covered in some kind of pattern, but with how shapeless they were it was impossible to see what the pattern was.

Sitting on the floor, he began slipping first one foot then the other into the legs. His skin slid smoothly against the costume’s material like it’d been well oiled. As his feet reached the bottom of the legs, slipping into the paw shaped segments at the bottom, he could feel them tingle. And despite the costume’s initial anaemic appearance, the presence of his legs did indeed cause the initial shapeless look to vanish.

He began pulling the pants up. As more and more of his legs slipped into the costume the tingling of his skin continued upwards. He’d need to make sure and check to see if his skin was having a reaction to the costume later, but a quick check peeling the costume leg back didn’t reveal any redness so it would probably be fine for at least the moment.

He rested on his back on the floor as he was pulling the costume into place; the instructions had specifically recommended the position. While the reason for it wasn’t clear, it seemed appropriate to follow them carefully at least once.

Still, he hesitated briefly as he was pulling the costume up to his groin, unsure of letting his penis or his balls touch the material. With the way his skin was reacting to the costume putting more sensitive flesh against it seemed ill-advised. He sighed. Might as well go all the way. It’d be easy enough to pull off at this stage if things didn’t go well.

The groin and waist of the costume fit very snugly, almost seeming to cup his genitals and hold them snug and secure. Indeed, now that they were on, the costume pants felt as though they’d been tailored expressly for him. Despite having no way of tightening the material around his waist, it didn’t feel like there was any risk that it was going to slip off. Which, considering he had nothing on under it, was good.

He reached out to touch his costumed legs, taking in just how well the costume looked now that it was filled rather than just limp. When he moved his legs he marvelled at the way he could even see the muscles move beneath the costume’s skin; somehow the costume had made them match the bestial look of the legs. The pattern he’d noted earlier was clear now as well. A fur pattern was embossed into the material; despite being the least realistic looking part of the costume, it could be mistaken for actual fur at a glance. The material wasn’t black anymore either, but had taken on a light tawny colour.

Even wiggling his toes was incredible; he could see the digits on the costume move with his own toes. Only, wait, the costume had four toes.

He stared at one foot, concentrating on moving each toe individually, first one then the next. And each costumed toe wiggled. Indeed they seemed to do a better job of it than his actual toes. But despite having seen each of them move just once, he neither felt that he’d missed a toe nor that one had been constrained. He repeated the experiment, this time counting his toes as he wiggled them. One toe, two, three, four toes. Somehow the costume feet had matched his own despite not having the same number of toes.

He looked closer at his foot, only to realize it wasn’t even shaped the same as his actual foot. There was, in fact, no way his foot should possibly be able to fit. Blinking, his attention moved to his legs, finding that they were wrong as well. The wrong shape, thinner and, if it could be believed, rather shorter. Despite this, his legs felt fine, unchanged even.

Desperately, he tried to stand, clutching at one arm of his sofa as he struggled to balance. His eyes went wide at both the difficulty he was experiencing and the strange posture his legs took as he tried to stand. And the attempt confirmed his earlier suspicion; his legs were definitely shorter.

Letting go of the sofa, he dropped back down to the ground, landing on all fours. It took a moment to realize he hadn’t landed on his knees; his legs were still straight, now easily and comfortably supporting him on all fours.

Somehow the costume had given him the actual, bestial hind legs of a gryphon, entirely suitable for a quadruped. Not the legs of a real gryphon of course, gryphons not being real, but legs that looked in every way like they would belong to one if one did actually exist. Looking back, he could even see the costume tail hanging behind him, occasionally twitching.

He rolled onto his back once more, his hands scrambling for a waistband that seemed to have vanished; the strange material of the costume legs seemed to meld with his human flesh at the waist. He could even feel his fingernails digging into the material like it was his own skin. Gods! Was he stuck like this?

No, wait. He forced himself to stop and think back to the directions; they had explicit instructions for taking the costume off. He forced himself to stop and take a few breaths before putting his hands on his waist and willing the legs to come loose.

The waistband separated from his skin. He was able to grab it and pull the costume off of his legs. Then he stared at his legs; perfectly ordinary, unchanged human legs. Nothing unusual about them at all, not even the redness he’d feared from the way the costume had felt when he put it on. He stood, walking around the sofa a few times and marvelling at the way his legs seemed to have returned to normalcy so easily.

Well, at least it didn’t have any permanent effects. He looked towards where the costume lay abandoned on the floor. The desire to find out what it would be like to finish putting it on warred with the desire to have nothing to do with the costume’s strangeness. He could take it back tomorrow; one day was well within the store’s return window.

He would think about it. Whatever had happened, he needed time to think about it and come to terms with it. He considered calling Lia, his long-standing girlfriend, just so that he could be sure he wasn’t imagining the whole thing, but it was getting quite late; she worked early mornings on a constantly changing schedule and would not appreciate being woken up if she did have a shift.

Well, he could wash up the dishes while he decided; it was a Saturday and he knew he wouldn’t need to get up early. He could continue to experiment with the costume or he could stop. The only thing he needed to do was decide which it would be.

By the time that Charles had finished washing up the dishes he had decided to try the costume again and to go all the way this time. There were, after all, clear removal directions he had every reason to believe worked. If he didn’t take this opportunity now he doubted he’d ever be able to bring himself to even if the opportunity came up again.

Thus, with the dishes all dripping in the rack, he made his way into the living room and picked up the costume once more. Before slipping his feet into the rubbery material once more, he laid down on the floor again. He could now understand why the directions had recommended not trying to put it on while standing; he’d had trouble standing even when he’d finished putting it on.

Then he pulled the costume legs up, over his own. As they covered his flesh he could feel the tingling spread over his skin once more. It did not take long for him to have them in place again and, now that he wasn’t distracted by the effect of wearing them, he noticed more strange things.

The costume’s tail, so lifeless and flat before he’d slipped the pants on, was now thick and active. He’d seen that much before taking the costume pants off last time, but now he reached out and held it, marvelling at the way he could feel his grip through a limb that he didn’t even have. When he focused on it, he found he could even make the tail move the way he wanted it to.

Following his new-found tail up to his body brought home another realization; the costume featured its own genitals, just as sensitive as his own. As he stared at the carefully sculpted features, though, he realized that they were distinctly different than the ones beneath the thin material. The costume had a small bestial sheath tucked up against a pair of surprisingly large balls. The most amazing part about it was that touching either felt like he was really touching himself.

Whatever he ended up deciding in relation to the costume, he was going to have to make a point of going to talk to the seller. Such an accurate costume, and he couldn’t think of any other way to put it, posed a rather significant barrier to wearing it outside the privacy of his own home.

He shook himself; this wasn’t getting him any further to trying the rest of the costume. He looked around, taking a moment to remember where he’d put the torso portion of the costume. Then he awkwardly moved over to it, his legs trying to act like the hind-legs of an animal even while his arms remained entirely arm-like.

Once he had his hands on the costume body he held it up before him; the arms and wings hung limply at its sides and back with no more life than the shirt he’d left tossed on the sofa.

Since there wasn’t a zipper or anything like it, he pulled the costume’s torso on over his head. The familiar tingling spread over his chest and arms, but curiously did not effect his head even as it passed through the inside of the costume.

Costume in place, he wiggled his fingers, watching as the taloned forepaws of the costume moved with his motions. The costume had left him with what something that resembled bird-like talons as much as forepaws. He started to reach out to touch one of the talons, but stopped; he didn’t exactly have his hands available.

Still, the gryphon forepaws were impressive, and the long taloned digits seemed remarkably more agile than he would’ve expected especially after realizing the costume was designed for a quadrupedal form.

He reached out, putting one taloned forefoot on his living room carpet. Now or never he told himself and he heaved himself up onto all fours. His body moved fluidly, easily rolling him into place. He felt the wings shift on his back, settling into place as though they were real. He tried taking a few steps; the motion was simple and automatic. Stopping again, he found himself settling back onto his costume-granted haunches as though he’d been doing it all his life.

Like with the tail, he found he was quickly able to control his large, feathered wings, spreading them, even beating them against the air, but the crash of something being knocked off a table suggested this was neither the time nor place to experiment with them.

The only problem he has was that when he tried to walk he found himself staring at the floor; his still human head was simply not intended to be attached to a quadruped’s body. The solution to that seemed obvious and he quickly made his way over to where the costumed head was sitting on his sofa.

Like the other parts before he’d donned them, the head was soft and formless. Even parts he would have expected to be hard, like the beak, were soft and shapeless. Past experience suggested that was unlikely to be a problem for long.

He reached out, picking up the head and discovered an entirely different, entirely unexpected problem; his hands, now gryphon-like talons, were ill-suited to holding the formless mask. Or, indeed, doing much of anything requiring fine motor control. Their unexpected agility was still far below what his human hands had offered. It was the first time that the differences between the costume’s forefeet and his hands really sunk in.

But while the gryphon talons weren’t like hands they weren’t really paws, either; the digits were longer and more agile. He was capable of gripping things, just not as well as he was accustomed to. As a result, he was able to get a good enough grip on the costume head to get it onto his head after only a little bit of fumbling, and once there it slid right into place, covering his own features and making his face and scalp tingle in a strangely familiar way.

And then it was done; he took his hands away and stood. He opened his eyes, seeing the world through costumed eyes, standing on all fours like it was the way he’d been meant to. Even just in his living room the experience was both incredible and utterly unique.

He took a few steps, feeling his muscles flexing under his skin, his tail swishing behind him. The wings on his back shifted, eager-seeming and he cast a longing glance towards his patio and the sky outside, but remained in place. Even aside from the warning in the costume’s box, he wasn’t sure he could get the door open without taking the costume off.

Tearing his gaze away from the patio, he walked slowly around the sofa, feeling all four of his feet press into the carpet in turn, every motion natural in a way that should have been impossible. Though not, admittedly, any more impossible than the costume itself was. And the way the tips of his talons sometimes got caught in his carpet certainly helped give the situation a more down-to-earth feel.

There was a distant sound and he felt an ear twitch, turning towards it; despite the late hour someone was using the building elevator. It seemed the costume had also effected his senses; although his apartment was not especially close to it, he could hear the elevator just fine.

After taking a few more steps he realized he could feel the costume’s testicles brushing against his legs as he walked. The sensation was not unpleasant, indeed, it was barely noticeable, but once he became aware of it, he couldn’t stop noticing it.

Once he was in front of his sofa once more he stopped and rolled onto his back. His wings automatically folded then spread out across his floor as he laid on his back. One wing hit his sofa with surprising force, but still managed to settle into place, unharmed. His tail swished against the floor and he felt every sensation of it brushing against the carpet.

He looked across his now barrel-shaped chest, his eyes inevitably finding their way to the costume’s exposed genitals. Curious, he reached down with his taloned fore-paw, touching the oddly bestial sheath. With the altered shape from the costume it was an awkward reach and the now rather sharp looking talons added a degree of nervousness that he’d never felt before. But once again, the sensations were just like it was his own flesh. But this time he didn’t stop with just brushing it, instead continuing to play with the sheath.

Despite having no intention to do so, he found himself rocking his hips back as his tail twitched against the floor. The sensations from his fondling were definitely very sexual and the longer he kept at it the less inclined he felt to stop, no matter how awkward the effort was with his altered limb.

Engrossed by the sensations, he laid his head back, his eyes glazing over and the lids drifting partway shut. But the feel of something unexpected, something certainly not the small sheath he’d been fondling, pressed against his fore-paw. He raised his head, staring at the vibrant purple shaft that had started to make an appearance, pressing out of the costume’s sheath. That hadn’t been there when he’d put it on! He was sure that he would’ve noticed. It wasn’t his real cock, either. The shaft emerging from the sheath was not at all the right shape or colour.

His study of this rather unexpected development was interrupted by the sound of keys in his door: someone was about to enter his suite. The only person he could imagine it being was his girlfriend; he’d given her a copy of the key a few years earlier and she sometimes came by Saturday night if she didn’t have work in the morning. Unlike her, he rarely went to bed early on a Saturday night.

But now she was going to find not Charles but a gryphon. Given how thorough the changes were it wasn’t at all certain he’d be able to speak.

Fondling forgotten, he rolled onto his belly then sat up on his hind-legs. His taloned forepaws were still scrambling to try and remove the head of the costume when the door opened and he heard her step in. The door swing shut, but her footsteps had stopped only a few steps inside.

He was still having trouble with the costume head when she spoke. “What the hell.” Somehow, the pants had come off so much easier. Perhaps it was his lack of real hands.

Desperately he tried to speak, to assure her that it was him and he was just wearing a costume. His voice, as it turned out, was indeed present but also just as changed as the rest of him.

“I can explain,” he managed to gasp out.

It was about half an hour later when Charles finished telling Lia about the events that lead to the scene she’d seen when entering his apartment. She’d settled onto his sofa while he sat on his haunches a short distance away; while he was still mostly in costume, it had only taken a few minutes before he had paused to remove the gryphon head. This both demonstrated that it was really him and because, as it turned out, an inflexible beak was not really the best choice for conversation.

When removing the mask he had felt a moment of panic; his taloned forefeet struggled to find the seam and struggled even more to get and hold onto the costume head. Once it was partially removed, the head lost its shape and became rather harder to grip. His costumed forepaws were no more suited to fine manipulation than the beak had been to speech.

“That costume is amazing,” Lia said as he finished removing the head. “I mean, seriously amazing. Even looking at you, I have no idea how you can possibly fit inside of it; those legs are entirely the wrong shape for human limbs.”

“Heh. When I saw the pictures the shop had up, I was more than a little suspicious that they weren’t entirely real, especially since the shop didn’t have anything actually on display. The costumes all come in boxes marked only with a couple of words for a description. And they’re cheap, I mean real cheap. If these catch on, and I can’t imagine they’ll fail to once word gets around, those cheap plastic Halloween costumes are going to have serious competition.”

“Do you mind if I touch you?” Lia leaned towards him, slipping off of the sofa, her hand reaching out towards him. “I mean, am I going to damage the costume or anything?”

Charles tried to shrug, but found the gesture awkward while he was sitting on all fours. “Go ahead. I’ve no idea how delicate it is, though given everything else I can’t see it being too fragile.”

Her hand touched his shoulder, fingers brushing against the molded fur that covered his body. A shiver ran through him and he leaned into her hand, blinking when he realized he was doing it.

“That texture, the fur could almost be real. Whoever did the work on it certainly earned their money. Here.” She lifted the head, slipping it back onto him. He blinked as it unexpectedly came over him, momentarily blocking his vision before he was once more looking out through gryphonic eyes.

“Yes,” he said. Speaking with the gryphon head on required him to concentrate more; his voice didn’t seem to work quite right and the beak, of course, had no lips.

But then Lia frowned, her hands running over his body more rapidly, especially moving up to his head. “Somehow, with that head on, your costume seems more real to the touch. More like actual fur and feathers rather than just an embossed pattern. It’s even like it changes colour when you’re wearing it.” Her hand brushed against his ear which twitched in response. “Your entire body seems to be amazingly sensitive despite the costume. Can you roll onto your back? I want to see if rubbing your tummy makes your leg go.”

Charles rolled his eyes, but obliged her. The movement was surprisingly easy, the broad, feathered wings folding up against his back while he shifted position, then spreading out over the floor afterwards.

Lia smiled, her eyes looking over his costume body. She reached for his belly, but stopped, her hand hovering just over the embossed fur pattern and she blinked.

“That costume seems rather more, ah, complete then is really necessary.”

“Ah, yes,” Charles tried his best to nod, but between the way the costume had reshaped his neck and the fact that he was laying on his back the gesture was not all that successful. “I had just noticed that myself when you came in.” He paused for a moment. “It is surprisingly functional.

“Really?” Lia raised her eyebrows and redirected her hand downwards. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head; considering how far they’d gone before there was hardly a reason not to now just because he looked like a gryphon.

Moments later her hand came in contact with his costume sheath, her fingers running along it much more easily than the costume’s taloned forepaws. He trembled as though it really were his shaft that she was stroking and not just a sheath built into a costume. A couple of times her hand brushed against the inside of his thighs and when it did it felt as though there was really fur there being brushed aside.

He squirmed as she continued to play with his sheath, her other hand joining in to fondling the surprisingly large balls the costume had. While neither were particularly feline in appearance, both certainly felt like they were exactly what they should be.

“Oh!” Lia sat bolt upright, her hands freezing in place.

“What? That was starting to feel really good.”

“Look.” She raised one hand to gesture at his groin and he lifted his head to look down at it. “Your costume, it has a, ah, cock of its own.”

Sure enough, partially sticking out from the sheath was the vibrantly coloured shaft he’d noticed just before she’d entered. While he didn’t have a great view of it, mostly seeing it from head on, it was a good enough view for him to tell that it was definitely not human.

“Oh.”

Lia reached out, touching it again and sending a shiver through him. “It’s so real.” A smile grew on her lips. “You know what, let’s move over to your bedroom to continue this,” She licked her lips. “I find myself wondering just how far this goes.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply before standing and starting towards the bedroom. Which was probably for the best given his sudden difficulty in producing anything but inarticulate noises.

After a moment he managed to roll back onto his feet and followed her. One way or another he had no doubt things were going to get interesting.

It didn’t take long to get into his bedroom, but the experience of walking there in full gryphon costume was almost surreal. The door, which had swung mostly shut behind Lia the way it always did if he didn’t prop it open, was far more of a barrier than he’d expected. With his arms serving as the forelegs he was walking with he didn’t have a hand free to push it open and ended up giving it a push with his head. Then, as he walked through the door he had to pull his wings tight against his body to keep from catching them on the frame. And even when he thought he’d cleared the door and it swung shut behind him he felt it brush against his tail. While it might just be a costume tail given how real the rest of the sensations felt he did not want to experience getting it caught in a door.

Lia was already inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d pulled her shirt off and was in the process of removing her pants. Seeing her nearly naked set off the usual reaction, though the feel of his cock stiffening was not entirely familiar; rather than becoming hard, it was sliding out from where it was hidden. Even only partially exposed, it already felt stiff.

“Ready to give that costume a real test?” Lia asked as she slipped off her bra, tossing it over to where she’d dumped the rest of the clothing she’d removed. Her breasts bounced as they were freed and she leaned back, pulling off her panties.

Charles’ beak parted and he walked towards her. “Oh, yes.” He’d have been just as ready without the costume, but the feel of the non-human shaft bouncing between his thighs provided an exotic thrill.

His girlfriend leaned back as he approached, spreading her legs and giving him a good view of her sex. He stepped forward, rubbing his beak along the side of her thigh. From her reaction, it was quite sensual, but unfortunately his beak seemed to be lacking in sensation. He could smell her arousal, though; it wasn’t strong, but with his nostrils so close to her vagina he couldn’t miss the scent and it only served to turn him on further.

He took another step, bringing his head in closer and parted his beak to let his tongue out.

“Careful,” Lia admonished, but not harshly. Extending his tongue, he licked her clit and feel a shiver run through her body. Although he was close enough that he wasn’t able to see anything but her exposed sex, he couldn’t miss when she reached forward, her hands coming to rest on the side of his head, her fingers briefly flexing into the feathers there.

He continued his ministration, teasing her with his tongue all the while he could feel his own shaft becoming harder beneath him, throbbing with need.

Lia moaned, her hips thrusting upwards against his beak. He jerked his head back, unsure of how safe it would be to have her press against that rather solid extension of his head.

“Don’t stop!” she called out, but he had something better, and almost certainly safer, in mind. Something his loins, altered as they were by the costume, were calling out for.

He hopped up on the bed, taloned forepaws pressing into his bedding on either side of her as he jerked his hips forward, feeling his shaft bobbing with the motion. He tried to thrust, but felt his shaft brush against her body rather than being encased in the warm embrace of her vagina.

A second and even a third thrust were no more successful, though by the way she with moaning and writhing below him he was at least not leaving her wanting.

“Quit that,” she said. “I need you inside of me.”

He thrust again, and this time it seemed that she had indeed had enough of him missing as she reached between their bodies and grabbed his shaft, her hand warm as it gripped the sensitive flesh. She guided him in and it was his turn to moan, beak hanging open, as he was finally able to sink his length inside of her.

His hips seemed to have a mind of their own, drawing back so that only the very end of his shaft was inside of her, then thrusting forward, spreading and filling her with his length at once. At the same time, he leaned forward, beak stretching outwards, his tongue stretching out to taste her sweet breasts and to tease at her nipples. They were already hard, but he didn’t let that stop him from running his tongue around one areola then the other, teasing each breast in turn with its length.

He longed to hold them, but even as he tried to move the forepaws his hands had become, he could feel the talons get caught in the fabric of his bedding. Hardly the tools for fondling delicate flesh and certainly not without more experience with them.

In the meantime, his hips had continued to thrust into Lia, his shaft filling her again and again with its length and, even though it had seemed plenty hard when he’d first thrust into her, it seemed to have been thickening, becoming even harder. Especially at the base, he could feel a definite swelling, the shaft there expanding far beyond what he would have expected. It lent a strange resistance to the end of his thrusts, his shaft seemingly reluctant to completely enter her, but then when his hips pulled back again, it seemed reluctant to leave again as well.

Lia reached up, her arms wrapping around his neck, brushing against the base of his wings. Her fingers dug into the fur of his back even as her arms rubbed against the feathers that coated his head and neck. Her legs reached up, wrapping around his hips as she pulled herself tighter against him.

“Oh! Deeper!” She gasped out the words between moans as he took her in his bestial costume with unusual bestial urges.

He thrust again and felt her tense, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling his head down to her body as she moaned into the side of his neck.

“Oh, yes!” the words were more than a little mumbled by their relative positions, but he barely noticed as his own climax erupted then, and erupted seemed to be entirely the right word; his beak parted and a strange, almost avian sound escaped, his hips burying his shaft deep inside of her and his balls bouncing against her flesh. He felt his shaft throb inside of her, unloading his seed into her body, pulse after pulse.

His talons tightened, digging into his bed and his hind-claws dug into the carpet of the floor as the moment seemed to go on forever.

But in time the tension flowed out of his body and he could feel himself relax, sinking down on top of Lia. At some point she’d let go of him, laying back on the bed and idly stroking his neck with one somewhat limp hand.

“Mmm,” she said. “That was simply incredible. It’s never been like that for me before.”

He nodded, letting himself sink down on top of her. His head came to a rest between her breasts; it made talking difficult but he hardly felt he could hold himself up any longer. The effort to disengage his talons from his bed seemed the limit of his energy.

“Or for me.” Vaguely, he realized that not only was he still inside of her, but he was still rock-hard, his shaft still pulsing with his seed. “I can’t believe it was like that, or that any kind of costume could be responsible for it.”

“You know what?” she asked. “I can’t believe you could buy a costume like that in a common mall shop.”

“Hardly a common shop.”

“True. I don’t suppose you could pull out now?”

Charles tugged his hips back and found himself unable to pull himself loose; his shaft twitched inside of Lia as he tried. He squirmed, shifting his hips around in an attempt to get them loose.

“Wait, stop.” Lia put a hand on his shoulder. Once he’d stopped she twisted and reached down between them, her fingers exploring where his shaft entered her. Despite his recent climax, her fingers felt good against the furred sheath the costume had provided him with. As she explored their connection he felt his still hard and still unloading shaft react, twitching against her touch.

“I think,” she said, pausing briefly. “Your costume is rather good at disguising your genitals, making them more, I suppose, gryphon like. I,” she paused again as she untwisted, laying back on his bed. “I seem to recall reading about something like this in some animals; I think we’ll be fine if we just wait a while.”

Charles gave his hips one final experimental tug; they were, at least for the time being, firmly stuck in place.

“Good thing we weren’t planning anything,” he said. “Should we just sleep like this, then?” It didn’t seem like they’d be going anywhere.

“Well, I think we could probably get you entirely up on the bed here; that might be more comfortable for the night, but otherwise it’s looking that way. Here,” she put her hands on his flanks, “help me get you up on the bed.”

As she pushed against his flanks he side-stepped towards the bed, then did his best to roll over. With much grunting, a bit of moaning, and a great deal of awkward pulling at their joined groins, she managed to get him up on the bed, laying on his side. Her body ran between his thighs and his forelimbs wrapped around her much the way his arms might have if not for the costume.

“When we do this next time, we’ll be more prepared.” She said.

“You want to do this again?” Charles had tucked his head against her shoulder, but made sure there was enough room that he was still able to move his beak to speak.

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but considering the circumstances...”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him and patting his back. “Not only that, but I think I want to visit that shop in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me.” He snuggled up tighter against her, his belly pressed against her flesh. With their conversation ended, it did not take long for him to slip into sleep.