Duck Tail by A Smiling Face

Duck Tail

Story by A Smiling Face on SoFurryJune 2021~46 min read

A Smiling Face, Anthro, College, Deer, Duck, HMOFA, Human

A story about a somewhat easily agitated Human college student named Zac, and a as lazy as she is laid back duck girl named Natalie, but as it stands, Zac's roommate Derek is a constant cockblock between the Mammalian and Avian friends. Finished

The smell of spring is in the air on campus, the strange, ripe musk of the female anthros, the sour smell of the males, and the overwhelming desire for May 11th to come so I can ditch this dump and head to the woods.

College fucking sucks. Every single fucking night I hear my faggy roommate the buck who is always getting fucked, Derek, or Deery as he calls himself, getting his asshole loudly stretched by the man of the night so I can't fucking sleep. Finals anxiety is so bad it feels like a knife has been lodged in my diaphragm and some unseen force is always slowly twisting it so whatever I try to eat always waves goodbye as I flush the half-digested chunks down the toilet. I wake up a four in the goddamn morning every morning because, because I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! Then I run, I run until the sun comes up, eat, or at least try to eat.

And then begin my fucking classes.

Seventeen credit hours. Monday and Wednesday I have one lecture, just Matrixes, and it's taught by a half-senile old man for two hours. Bearable. Gives me plenty of time to study, and actually learn the material.

Then there's Tuesday and Thursday. Seven hours of straight lectures. Physics II plus lab, circuits and systems, and signals. Professor Vilin and Redtooth as well as Doctor Caratal were great. And then there's that bitch who gives physics lectures. Doctor Bel-Aryth-Yamak from I-Don't-Give-A-Fuck-istan and won't shut up about how backwards the U.S is when compared to her nation sized ordinance testing site. I can hear her nasal voice droning in my head “Wehell in bombdropistan we had free healthcare, there was no violence, and women were above men. Then the Americans invaded and now there's rape, slavery, and violence because the Americans can make money on that and that's why capitalism is bad". I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but she makes herself so hate worthy it's not even funny.

Fortunately for what's left of my sanity, my closest friend and fellow double E major, Natalie Makarov can normally tell what's the issue and tries to calm me down. That girl is a damn life saver. On every Saturday night she comes over while Derek is at GSA and just chills with me, she cuts my nails and I brush her feathers and then we play some games or watch a so-bad-it's-good movie. It is the single best part of every week, and the only time I'm able to relax and let my guard down. Luckily for me, today is Saturday, and I went out of my way to buy good snacks, brand Doritos, Coca-Cola, a big ass bowl of blackberries I picked from the bushes along the trail I run and a stuffed crust DiGiorgio meat lover's pizza, her favorite.

Though, sadly, it isn't night yet, and so I'm under Derek's brand-new Toyota Camry changing his oil for 20 bucks of labor with my belly on a skateboard. I'm listening to his conversation while I work.

“Hey big boy, you wanna come and take my horns as you take my bussy?" Derek calls out to some poor bastard walking by.

“Derek, I swear to God, if you ever say bussy, boipucci, or any other word that compares your fucking balloon knot to a vag to me again." Snarls some sort of predator anthro. “Oh, and Zac, have a nice day." He finishes, I'm only able to see his faded jeans as he aggressively walks away.

I can see Derek stop in his rainbow-colored leggings, before huffing. “Jeez it's only the fourth time I've offered." He pouts.

I roll my eyes. “Derek, this may be a shock to you, but some people want women. With tits and a womb that is." I say as I twist the oil nut on the car.

The oil begins to flow like molten black glass from the car, pouring into the used pie pan and soaking what's left of Thursday's pot pie. What's left of the puff pastry at the bottom loses its ability to absorb the midnight black oil. I watch the oil glisten slightly as it falls and determine it's a good flow and slide out.

I have my eyes closed as I slide out, as the last time I did this I got a disgusting look at Derek's nether region as he figured it'd be funny to do a porn trope. If Derek didn't have more money than sense I think I would have cut the bastard's horns off and severed his feet to make knife handles. I feel my fists curl as I think of the sight.

“Derek, if you are above me and wearing no underwear I will kill and butcher you like all the other deer whose venison you've been eating for free courtesy of me." I say hiding none of my intentions with a voice to match.

“Not over you Zacy and that's in more ways than one." He says with his faux feminine voice.

I clench my jaw thinking of what other sort of degeneracy the white tailed and brown nosed creep can come up with. The time before last he tried to cook me a “special meal" in just an apron, and the time after he tried that he wrapped himself in ribbon and came on my bed in anticipation of something that never would have happened. I threaten violence, but I really don't have the care enough to do anything cause it doesn't really do anything more than annoy me, but it, like everything else right now, has been begging me to pick up a bottle of something with a triple digit proof. Instead of an upskirt view, it's him staring down at me, lips pursed with a note held out to me in hoof-tipped fingers

“Here’s your reward Zacy-boy” He muses as I snatch the letter with greasy hands.

It reads: This note is informing you, Zacy-boy, that I, Derek, have taken an opportunity to study abroad until halfway through summer starting tomorrow. I leave my things for you to use in the meantime, and with it the right to use my heart shaped bed should you please. I leave in a week.” It reads.

I look up to the deer boy, seeing him in a new light. Perhaps he has more than thoughts of cock in his head. “Thanks Derek.” I say, not bothering to hide the earnesty of the statement.

“You do realize I’m not done though right? And you do have the oil this time, SAE 5W-” I follow

“YES THE FIVE-W-THIRTY FROM COSTCO!” He exclaims.

He can learn it seems. The first time it was oil-based lube in a ten gallon jug, and the most recent was two gallons of olive oil. Only the latter, he returned.

“Well where is it?” I ask.

“It's in the trunk.” He pouts.

“Well, should I get it for you?” I ask.

“Uh, sure?” He says, back with the faux-femininity.

I slide out from underneath, get my stomach off my board and rise to my feet, towering over the short buck, and I’m only 5’10”. The tops of his antlers barely reach my nose and they add probably six inches to his height. Looking down on the buck he almost reaches for my chest like he normally does but pulls away, blushing, like normal, as bothersome as ever. I step back, and towards the truck on the car.

“You mind popping the trunk for me?” I ask from six feet farther away.

He just slides his hands into his packers, pop, and the trunk automatically opens. “There” he says solemnly.

I lift the box of quart-containers out over to the already raised hood, doing away with the packaging tape with a pass of my keys. I set the box on top of the car, and slide down back beneath the car on my board. The oil is nearly done draining, I just wait for those last few drops. The massive two gallon foil-tin you had once used for pie sits still as I tighten the bolt again. I slide out and empty one quart after another into the oil well until I’ve filled it up to five. I tighten the cap and close the hood, and turn to face Derek again.

“Well it's done, I’m headed back to the dorm.” I declare while looking him in the eyes.

“Do you want anything from Kroger?” He asks as I walk away.

“No thanks I went yesterday.” I announce.

I swear I hear a hoof stamp against the concrete as I move back towards Sneed Hall and the perpetual graffiti of “formerly Chuck's” beneath the archway to the main door. Unlike the new builds I just walk straight into the building, no keycard required, and it's up the three flights of stairs to the door where I use a regular masterkey, nothing like the new weird shaped keys the other people have. Inside the room there’s a kitchenette of sorts, all the makings of storing food, but only a microwave and kettle to prepare it. In the middle of the U shaped room, there is a small wall that breaks the line of sight between Derek and my own side of the room, and the difference is night and day. My “room” has a curtain bar and a curtain, while his has door beads. Mine has a rug for decor, his, more than I can count. Though for all I can blast Derek for, he’s no slacker when it comes to cleaning. I guess if you’re gonna pretend to be a pretty little princess you may as well learn the first two things a princess ought to know.

Inside my room there’s my lovely rug, brown and red rug. Underneath my loft bed is a couch that’s across the room from my TV-Computer-Desk unit thingy, and despite the almost complete lack of adornments, this place has come to feel like home over the past eighteen months or so. I like it anyway.

I spend the rest of the morning working away at problems, calculating the electrical fields of wires and whatnot, until it's time to go grab some food from the dining hall about a half mile up the road. Another massive pile of random food, some orange chicken, pizza, a bit of green beans, just random crap from the multi-line buffet. I spend maybe an hour there, chatting to some familiar faces, watching some videos on my phone. I returned home to make ready for movie night, popping popcorn and whatnot. Once ready, I sit down on my couch and wrap myself in one of my grandmother's quilts. Just as I settle in, right as I’m about to get properly cozy and planted, I hear three knocks at the door. Three gentle rasps on the world's cheapest door.

Nothing…

With a sigh and what Jeff, a donkey friend of mine described as a “human stamping fit” I rise from my position of near-nirvana comfort. I take slow, rumbling steps towards the door, and open it with all the grace of a two three legged bull in rut. Before me is a far too well dressed Natalie. A blouse, necklace, and one of those weird bird-skirts that have a flap beneath that tail.

“So, what’s the movie for the night Nat?” I ask gleefully.

“I got two but could we talk first?” She asks, shuffling with her clawed, webbed feet.

I shrug.”Sure, what’s on your mind?” I invite her as she walks in and plops herself on the couch, next to me like always.

“You do realize we’ve been dating for like half a year now and we haven’t done, like, anything.” She states flatly

What

The confusion must be on my face. “I’m sorry, what?” I clarify.

Her eyes narrow atop her flat beak. “Like, I’ve been coming here three times a week, and you come to my dorm three times a week. I cut your nails, you preen my feathers, like…-” She stops mid-sentence. She rests a finger on her beak for a moment as I try to decipher what kind of joke this is.

“Hold on!” She exclaims pointing a rounded finger claw at me.

“Did you ever ask me out or not?” She asks expectantly, moving her hands to her well proportioned hips.

“I invited you to movie night because you said you wanted to watch it. Then we started our friendship like that? Don’t you remember?” I ask with concern on my face. Maybe springtime hormones are getting to her?

“So are we or are we not dating?” She demands.

“Are we?” I ask in confusion.

She glares at me but the look is broken when I hear “Wait is he…Derek?... No…”

“Before you ask Nat, I’ve gone over this a thousand times I’m not-” I protest.

“I KNOW YOU’RE NOT FUCKING DEREK ZAC! THE QUESTION IS WHY AREN’T YOU FUCKING ME?!” She exclaimed.

Oh.

Well. I mean I want this. Like I shot rope to the idea last night of painting the red fleshy bits around her eyes white.

“I guess I never asked? I thought you were uninterested in dating, that’s what you told me like the third movie night?” I answer.

Her beak opens and then she clasps it shut. She takes a deep breath and opens it again. “Did you think I just cut the nails of anyone? Or let anyone preen my tailfeathers?” She asks flatly.

I shrug. “I dunno, I don’t really study culture.” I answer flatly.

She gets up, walks right over to me, puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes.

“Zac, I thought we started dating in, like, October, it's now May. So either you’re going to give me a kiss, or I’m going to leave.” She demands.

I can feel my face rush red. Dammit I hate being on the spot. Uh.

Without realizing it, I placed my lips at the front of her flat beak. Natalie’s black and white feathers seem to be standing on end. But from her eyes and the way her caruncles have shifted, she’s clearly pleased.

“So, I hereby declare us, dating as of the first Saturday of October of last year.” She proclaims, hands on her hips and nick straight so she’s taller than me. “As for the evening’s choice of film we have two sex-comedy horror films, one called the Red Breasted Devil, and the other Hugh Mann and the Holly Wood Hunters.” She offers with a wink.

I’m still kinda trying to figure out why she was so different earlier and why she’s back to her normal, playful self. “Uh, why not both? Derek’s at GSA tonight.” I answer tacitly.

Nat just shakes her beaked head. “No-can-do Zac, I’ve got other plans.” She proclaims again.

“I guess red-breasted devil sounds the most like a sex-comedy.” I answer slightly slurring my words.

Wait a second I just kissed Nat.

Wait, are those other plan’s boning? I mean, I’ve wanted to do that for a while I guess, but how does one put the D into Duck while giving a proper fuck. Man it's so much different when it's right in front of you.?

I can almost feel Nat’s eyes burrowing into me like an auger.

“I said that aloud didn’t I.” I say still flatly but with wide eyes.

The duck just stares at me in both anger and what I guess is expectation.

“And before you ask again, I have no idea Zac, hell you just gave me my first kiss.” She answers the meant to be unspoken question.

“Wait, you're a virgin?” I spout out.

“Uhh yeah, of course what’d you expect me to be?” She answers, staring me down.

“I dunno, I just remember you talking a lot about some Tucker dude from high school.” I answer, probably more honestly than I should’ve.

“Tucker? That’s Jenny’s husband.” She says flatly.

I just shrug. “Well if I don't have to wear clothes around you anymore I won’t.” I say casually and liberate myself from the prison of a pair of sweatpants, the T-Shirt and my underwear.

-wait a second Jenny’s husband?.

“Wait, Jenny's married?” I exclaim.

I just sit down. How the hell is that girl married, she’s like 21, and still acts about her man like she just started dating, and that man was Tucker? Man my mental folder on her friends and whatnot is a cluster. I rest my hands upon my chin and begin to ponder what else I misorganized.

“HEY WAIT A MINUTE!” She shouts pointing at me. “Why are you n a k e d” She asks switching to a whisper.

“As you said we’ve been dating for like, seven months now, so I figured I'd ditch the clothes because I’m going to wrap myself in a blanket in order to watch a movie called “Red Breasted Devils.” I explain.

She mutters something from the movement of her beak, but her caruncles puff up like when she gets a devious idea. “Well you wouldn’t mind if I stripped and joined you under the blanket?...” She pokes.

“Well I’d just move the blankets into bed, the couch is kinda small for laying about.” I detail flatly.

“O-oh.” She says, her caruncles deeping red in embarrassment.

“Though do join me in my nakedness, it’s actually rather nice to let the skin breath, I can only imagine how it feels with feathers to join.” I offer.

Her face deepens in its red, the skin beneath the thin feathers that run between the beak and the caruncles take on a red hue. “O-o-o-okay.” She stammers.

She makes a move towards her blouse but stops suddenly. “Wait a minute.” She says aloud.

…

“I came here to take that dick for myself.'' She reminds herself.

With that she throws off her blouse and runs her skirt off in a flash, showing off her knee-length scales, and then the black and white feathers that run along her body, her tan bra being the only slash of color that isn’t her feather color. Her arm feathers are black to the elbow where they switch to avian scales and each slightly-webbed finger ends in a mean looking claw. The black feathers start around her collarbone and form a line that curves down to cover her thighs completely leaving only speckled white feathers on her shoulders and thighs.

“Wow…” I say involuntarily.

She shoots me a wink, and slides off her white panties, revealing a glistening line of white feathers leading to a well hidden bright pink pussy. She looks at me, sitting on the couch.

“I guess we skip foreplay?” She says with a questioning tone.

“I wouldn’t personally but I haven’t any experience on the matter.” I confess.

Her playful nature deflates a bit. “Right, we’re BOTH virgins.” She sighs.

“At least we’re both good looking. Plus unlike Adam and Eve we’ve got movies and lewdies galore.” I proclaim.

“Are you sure you weren’t born in the 50’s, using lewdie instead of porn.” She pokes, the corner of her beaks moving up slightly in an avian grin.

“Whaell how's about this sweet pea, you can come here on my lap and I can give you a better necking than giraffe’s chiropractor.” I say with my finest, 1950’s newsman voice.

She rubs the bridge of her beak while stifling a quacking laugh. “I’m in love with a lead-headed time traveler.” She quacks.

“Call that divine intervention space cowgirl or should-.” I continue in the same voice.

Nat just moves up and presses her beak between my lips before I can finish, and presses me down onto the couch. She then tries to straddle me, beak still between my lips, promptly realizes the couch is way too small. In her momentary frustration I wrap my arms around her and stand up, taking her with me.

“Told you the couch was too small and now it's my turn to try to get this show on the road.” I say, lifting up the rather light bird woman and placing her on the bed.

My bed is maybe five feet off the ground, and the mostly naked duck-girl’s tail feathers are surrounding my neck, and uncomfortably poke my Adam's Apple. With a shift of my neck it slides around the rest of me. She spreads her legs out and the feathers that hid her pretty and pink now ring it like some sort of ornate archway entrance.

“I guess we’re not skip-” She quacks before I decide to take a lick from just above her ass to right up to her clit.

A gamey taste to be sure, slightly acidic, but the only thing I can say-. Nat reaches up, grabs the back of my head and drags me back into her dripping sex.

“More, right there at the top.” She whispers.

I move my tongue in circles around what I think to be the clit anyways, and pleased quacking fills the room. I go about this for a while, how long I have no idea, just that my mouth tastes like duck after a time. Raw duck anyways. Her tail begins to wag after a time, tickling my neck and whacking with the long tail feathers’ spine. I move my arms from her hips to wrap around her thighs, pinning her in her position. I pull her close, eager for more of the strange, raw taste, moving realizing she trembles more if I brush what I think is her clit with my tongue, using it like I would sandpaper on an otherwise flat piece of wood. The sounds of the room are wonderful, quacks, moans, quack-moan things, my name, and begging, praising the lord, and other wonderful things from her beak.

After some time her legs come to rest on my shoulders, her clawed, webbed feet digging into my back worse than a trench digger but I keep going after that gamey duck delight. I feel a sudden, but slight quiver in her sex.

-HRRK

My mouth is pressed as hard as her thighs can force into her grin while the sweet, light sensation of oxygen is denied to me by thick, feathery thighs, and quaking tailfeathers. She slumps back and lets me go. I take a moment to straighten myself out, standing back and admiring the art I didn’t know I was capable of, the twitching, panting, and glistening sight of Natalie, white, black, and gray feathers laid out like a flower in greyscale.

I can feel thunder in my chest, the taste of game on my tongue, and fire in my veins. Primal thoughts resound through my mind like the thudding of a jackhammer in a mineshaft, the smell of inevitable victory, like that of sweat and this new smell filling the room, just missing one more thing, something I want. I look again to the twitching Natalie on my bed, she’s looking at me, something akin to hunger in her eye, though distinctly different. She shakily props herself up on her elbows, almost quacking between pants of her breath.

“Nabesa vyshe Zach, now why don’t you come here and rest with me~” She lies through her beak.

Though it is a lie, and a scheme at that, I ignore it all and climb into my bed, and shape the naked bird to my body. She doesn’t seem to resist at all, pressing her arms against my chest, and sighing softly as she rests her downy chest against my own, like having an inside-out feather pillow pressed against me. I could almost fall asleep, almost, between this not-quite hunger and stray feathers poking me, that’s not going to happen. Natalie nuzzles her neck against my shoulder, tickling it with her smooth, stiff, neck feathers. I wrap an arm around her waist and she shifts herself to rest completely atop me, her clawed hands moving up my chest until they reach my shoulders. She slowly presses herself up, straddling me, while my arm remains around her waist. I reach up and take one of her hands in mine.

“Thanks for letting me do this Zach, I could feel your tenseness… or eagerness.” She trails off. She stares down at me, her tail wagging behind you. “Sorry for the wagging, its always made men think I’m too manly…” She whispers.

Wait what. “Huh? Wagging tails?” I ask.

She just leans down and presses her beak between my lips. “Shush, don’t even think about any other tail than the one you’re about to get.” She whispers.

That sorta-hunger, maybe it's lust, maybe desire, it beckons you to speak as she draws away. ‘I suppose you’re never one to lose though.” I jab playfully.

“Lose? Zach, how can I lose if I’m first?” She asks.

“I didn’t know it was a race.” I jab taking a good long look at her bare body.

I rise up wrapping her in a hug and looking into her eyes I can feel that hunger surge. “Shall we?” She only half-asks. Instinctively I lift her up slightly in my arms and she places her hand on my member, guiding it between her legs. She’s strangely gentle about it, given how often she’s randomly scratched me with her clawed, webbed hands. She raises her arms up again, and wraps them around me, her hands resting behind my neck. I push my head forward and kiss her beak, looking into her stone-gray eyes. Behind her I see her tail batting rapidly. A motion of my arms, and a surge of her body, I don’t know which one of us moved first, if one could be said to do so. The feeling though, feels wonderful, and that primal urge thuding through my body demands more.

“Oh that feels better than my fingers…” Natalie moans. “You know birds don’t have a hy-”

I lift her up with my arms, moving her light frame up, and down. I hear a pleasured-sounding quack-like moan. I repeat the motion, still slowly, feeling the tight, slick sensation of Natalie on me, her folds holding me in but not stopping my movements. Again, a more circular motion, again.

Again

The room fills with my own near-feral grunts and her quacking and moaning. My arms move like the drive arms of a steam train, powerful circular motions keeping Natalie moving. Her beak hangs open while her tongue bounces in her beak like a snake on a trampoline. I feel that urge in me rising, as the electric pings of pleasure flood through me, despite this the urge demands I fight against it, nearing on the edge of stuffing this duck.

Natalie leans in, seeming regain her bearing, and pushes me against the bed, throwing off my arms and presses her chest against me, doing a motion similar to a lateral squat, her sharp claws digging into my thighsI look down and despite the haze of feathers on me, I can feel blood running down my legs, the hunger demands more, so I surge forth, pinning her down, and begin to fiercely thrust myself into her over, and over, each electric surge of pleasure as slam against her deepest part. Her howling moans fill the room until she presses her head so hard against my neck I can feel her would-be moans reverberate in my own neck.

The primal urge shifts, from its hunger to now a need to fill. Some primal idea fills my mind as words of euphoria, arrival, and strangely, tribe, fill my mind.

It takes a moment to notice, but it isn’t some blood memory, or at least not completely. I don’t even know how long its been, I feel the pleasure surging through me, the throbbing pain in my thighs, and sweat all over my body.

“Please, Zach, cum, cum in me…” She whispers between moans.

I fell the instinctive surge well up and like a geyser, and with one more motion slam myself into her harder than I have yet, and feel the throbbing pleasure of release. The wave hits so hard that I feel dazed, and slump on her downy breasts for a moment. I thrust upwards and she shifted her arms from my chest to my neck again. She leans in and presses her beak between my lips again before she returns to cuddling my neck with her own.

Some time passes, how long I really don’t know, but Natalie shrieks.

“ZACH! Y-your b-bleeding!” She cries.

“Yeah I know.” I say bluntly, having already come to ignore most of the pain.

“Let me get some bandaids.” She says and then tries to move.

“I’ll do it” I say, removing my now soft cock from her and hopping down from the bed.

As soon as I reach the drawers where I keep my medicines and bandages I hear two meaty plaps, and see Natalie, waddling, towards me.

"Your back too!” she whimpers.

“Relax Nat.” I say soaking a rag made from an old sock in the sink.

“Here, take this and help clean the blood off. Aren’t you bleeding too?” I say tossing the rag to Nat.

“I tried to tell you earlier, BIRDS DON’T HAVE A HYMEN” She shouts.

“Oh, well that’s nice.” I say as I hear her waddling towards me.

I feel the cold rag press against my back, and arch my neck back as the gentle numbing helps cut the bruising. “Geez Zach, I don’t know what came over me earlier.” She says in a sympathetic voice.

“Me neither, I felt like a caveman.” I reply giddily.

“I felt like a cavewoman!” She says, scrubbing my back more vigorously.

After I got patched up. We did watch Red-Breasted Devils, though half the time I had white, black, and brown speckled breasts stuffed in my face.

Summer came, summer went, and in the fall I had a new place, a dingy, three bedroom apartment. It was Natalie and I, Derek, and a new guy, another dude. I wonder how this next year will go.

Instead of an upskirt view, it's him staring down at me, lips pursed with a note held out to me in hoof-tipped fingers