FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Rocket’s solution to stress

How to get in a better mood after getting stomped by the enemy team? Rocket knows!

Kinktober Day 10: Oral Sex

“Babe! I’m back!”

The shout echoed through the cramped, messy, and downright chaotic ship. Kicks were given to the cables, polymer components, and even the steel pieces littering the ground. The corridors themselves were circular, giving a claustrophobic impression of being inside some disgusting beast. Not even affected by it, the diminutive, but impressive, Halfworlder grunted, huffed, and continued to deliver kick after kick.

His body was often compared to an Earth Raccoon by Quill. And in truth, he wasn’t so far off with that oversized tail, with masking across his face, or his cute ears that flapped whenever something he kicked hit a rough surface.

His red eyes strained while the ship’s lights were turned to the minimum. The air had that musty quality of filters that needed to be changed soon. Poor maintenance, sadly.

But did it matter to him?

“Ray! You flarkin’ can’t believe what happened to-…”

“To?”

The voice that answered had a slight artificial nature, not like any robot, but closer to an artificial trachea. However, the one possessing it was fairly alive and sapient. His skin was glabrous and orange. Height-wise, he was probably twice or even thrice Rocket Raccoon’s. And yet, that giant was currently squatting near a workbench, entirely… naked. No fancy Asgardian suit, no costume reminiscent of Thor.

Only sheer exposure that revealed the tense arched back, the defined spine, the powerful glutes… And even those genitals with those balls hitting the ground and that fat equine cock peeking out.

However, Rocket’s red eyes went… on the face. Equine yet without cheeks to cover that open mouth ending with incisors. And those white eyes, soft and amused, when the Korbinite looked over his shoulder.

“Beta? Buddy? You’re doing a pinup calendar for the Shi’ar Samaritans?” asked Rocket, even whistling, though the sound came off wrong at first.

“Guess again,” answered Beta Ray Bill with a snort.

“Starting an intergalactic OnlyFans. I heard it made good bucks on Earth.”

“Try again.”

“Buddy. I don’t have all day. And those flarkin’ idiots ruined my good mood.”

“Then dig in.”

“What? Really? You mean I can?”

Beta nodded, his expression relaxed while he had one hand going to his right posterior. His fingers dug inside the powerful muscle. With his strength and posture, he managed to pry the buttcheek away just enough to tease the wrinkled entrance. The orifice was wide, wider than Rocket’s arms. But it didn’t look swollen or abused; it was merely big, much like how Beta was plain bigger than Rocket, plain stronger, too.

And yet, he was kneeling and almost balancing against a workbench so he could have his posterior at face level for the Raccoon. Rocket approached, removed his gloves… And smacked the buns.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“I don’t. You called dibs a while back,” answered Beta with a huff. A moan. And a primitive smile.

Raccoon’s cold nose was already pressed against the entrance, taking in the clean musky flavor that emanated from the Korbinite. Those who remade his body had no right to make his entrance always clean and to give him pheromone glands all around and inside that butthole. The scent was musky, but practically reminiscent of vanilla. Or something else.

Rocket couldn’t tell, and he closed his eyes, opening his mouth to give that rim a thorough lick.

The wrinkled sphincter didn’t open, not that it was Rocket’s desire. His licks were going clockwise while reaching for the rim’s outer edge. He licked it, tasting the fake sweat that stuck to it, and took in the aroma, which was artificial but pleasant.

Even his tiny hands were digging into that posterior, squeezing and gripping those buns that were like steel.

Above, Beta might have been moaning and groaning. But Rocket was all too enthralled by everything that was offered: the musky taste, the aroma, the warmth, the presence of those glutes that pressed on either side of his skull.

Soon enough, his expression was almost relaxed as he had his face pressed against Beta Ray Bill’s asshole, his body balancing against that pucker that wouldn’t give out, and yet, tempted Rocket.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Oh yes. You’re of the rare few who can see me on my good side,” said Rocket, tracing the path along the perineum, feeling the sheer resistance of the synth skin as well as the muscles tense between the thighs.

But his mouth? Oh, it remained pressed against that entrance he breathed against. He licked, he sampled, he savored like it had no reason to. But that was Beta Ray Bill’s body. If the big names who had remade Beta loved strawberry-flavored buttholes, he might have gotten one.

That body was studly, refined, improved in so many ways… And it seemed that having such a bountiful ass had been a ‘reasonable investment’.

“The few? Such?”

“You… And your dick,” laughed Rocket, tracing his way down to the Korbinite scrotum. Loose, leathery, certainly with an even denser synthskin, though the result was delightful to touch: it was like touching old leather. Just like the jacket Quill brought and Rocket snatched.

It felt intriguing under the touch, captivating a part of Rocket’s focus that wasn’t dedicated to giving that wrinkled rim the sheen it deserved. And steadily, Rocket found the Korbinite’s hefty testicles. One of the not-artificial organs, though, so modified and improved, they were practically monsters that throbbed when Rocket patted those oblong nuts.

“They must have failed you a lot if you are so pent-up, Rocket.”

“You have no idea, Beta. I couldn’t believe they be such deadweights,” growled Rocket, pressing his face against Beta’s posterior. “Can I have it?”

“Now?” laughed Beta, then stopping. “Oh. Then it is urgent care.”

With that same strength that could pulverize a skull, the Korbinite carefully pushed the Raccoon away. Rocket growled and grunted, fighting as his ‘drug’ was taken away from him. But the diminutive Rocket was ushered to the front… To where would be the Korbinite’s pride. A shaft that was flared. A cock whose veins throbbed underneath the pink flesh. A mast that was practically as long as Rocket’s chest. Aaaand a scent that was just as strong as if from his asshole, despite the quasi-constant flow of precum that dripped out of that sizeable urethra.

Underneath Rocket’s touch, the flare bent slightly, the upper part wider and bigger than the lower part. But… There was an appetite in Rocket’s red eyes, and he smacked his lips. Then, he licked them.

“Urgent care for me? Yes, please,” said Rocket, approaching the penis that was so heavy, arching so low, it dragged itself on the floor.

Even then, Rocket put his hands underneath it and lifted the organ, which was much heavier than expected. And he approached it to his mouth.

The taste was alkaline this time, with hints of salt. Then, there was that musky and vanilla aroma that overcame everything, giving back the high Rocket desired so much as he opened his mouth wider… And wider… And wider.

His augmentations activated, one by one, while his body thrummed with a renewed energy. Drugs ran through his system, making his pupils dilate while his breathing slowed down. Same as his heartbeat.

Above? Beta Ray Bill looked at Rocket and stroked his right ear, rubbing the tip between his fingers while Rocket hefted the cock and ushered it inside his body. Slowly, steadily. But the long, wide, and well-endowed organ had its flared tip, the widest part, ushered within.

There was no gargle, no pushed-back gag reflexes. Only an advance as Rocket progressed, sliding the shaft down his throat.

Then, with a tap on his testicles, Beta received the message and held Rocket. He lifted the Raccoon like a mere toy… And aligned him. Head, neck, body. Everything was aligned with the cock. All for Rocket, whose lips were dripping with saliva, to compensate, and whose relaxed expression was complete.

Then, Beta Ray Bill pushed Rocket down. One inch. Two. Three. Four. Five.

By then, Rocket’s throat bulged obscenely.

After that, the median ring pushed past the lips without any problem.

More inches were ushered, of sweaty flesh that had been macerating in an oversized sheath whose wrinkled presence and smell were to titillate Rocket’s nose.

And then… It was done.

Beta still kept a hand on Rocket’s belly. One reason was to secure him close to his chest. The second was to feel that erection throbbing through the bulging belly, through Rocket’s entire body that endured such penetration, such filling without a trouble.

And the third was to feel the knuckles rasp against his synthskin, over his chiseled abs, to pass a message.

“Yes. I will not pull out until you say so,” answered Beta out loud, carefully standing up and trying not to smack his head against the low ceiling, with a fail.

“Ouch.”

Rasping.

“No. I am good, babe. I am going to the cockpit.”

Again, fingers drumming.

“Haha. Yes. And yes. I will turn on the Dungeons and Halfworlder podcast. I waited for you… What? No. I didn’t watch anything except the trailer. … No, trailers are fair game,” growled the Korbinite, bent over and holding onto Rocket, no different than a fleshlight at that moment.