FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

-CHAPTER 14- Do You Close Your Eyes?

Anya pulls you along, pushing the door halfway open before using her hip to bump it the rest of the way.

Inside, her music room isn't quite what you expected. There's no memorabilia on the walls like her living room, in fact the room is devoid of any knickknacks from what you can see. Several guitars – electric and acoustic – sit close together below a shelf lined with record sleeves. There's a scuffed wooden chair in a corner next to a sound system filled cabinet, a compact sheet music holder, and shelves filled with records. Filled CD racks take up what wall space isn't covered in sound absorbing foam tiles, the colorful case spines hinting at hundreds of stories.

Despite the room being functional, it still feels inviting. Helping on that front, a lot of the floor space is an enormous beanbag chair with several plush pillows and a ruffled blanket on it, the size reminding you more of a messy bed than a seat.

"Here we are," she says, her tail thumping the door shut.

The click of the latch brings with it a sense of finality, but her gaze distracts you from pointless thoughts. Undeniable want burns in her eyes, the slits of black within seas of green seeing only you. You'd be shocked if you weren't looking at her with the same intensity.

Unable to look away from her, and barely able to think, your mouth comes to your rescue. "It's very cozy," you say.

"Eh, hopefully it's not too much of a mess in here," she fidgets, flicking a glance at the seating.

Before her nerves get too frazzled or overwhelmed, you reach for her hand. It's your turn to take the lead, so you pull Anya closer to stare deeper into her captivatingly green eyes. "Being comfortably lived in makes it cozy."

That plan for her to play music might have just died. Anya presses her body closer, your clothes brushing together, her green irises drawing nearer. Anxiety dances in their depths, a flickering feeling you share. Along with a want, if not a need, that mingles your breaths.

"Well, I haven't been spending that much time in here lately," she admits close enough to kiss, but you restrain yourself. A good move, as a moment later she adds, "So it might've lost some of that coziness."

Her hand sways down your back, delicately over your spine, her feet carefully bringing her even closer. "But," she murmurs, headfeathers a mess of nerves and desire, "we could try to do something about that, if you want."

Seems your hands are quicker than your mouth for once, the softly worn denim of her jeans and feathers at the base of her neck teasing your fingertips. Your touch only encourages hers, claws delicately holding onto you, testing a soft grope on your behind as her chest bumps into you. The temptation of kissing her scaled snout resting gently against your nose nearly defeats you, but you withstand it. After all, there's much more than a kiss just waiting for a little nudge.

"Oh?" You grin, touch running along her cropped jeans until the downy feathers of her tail welcome you. A little shiver races down the raptor's back, her headfeathers fluffing. "Would that 'something' happen to be the dessert you wanted?"

Anya answers by leaning into you, her sensual tongue licking your lips. "Maybe," she mumbles mouth to mouth.

You can listen to music with her later.

Leaning in, you kiss Anya, adoring the way her body eagerly contours against you. The passion banishes any quiet, lingering worries or distractions. There's just Anya and the burning attraction pulling you together.

She's been on your mind all week. Judging by the raptor's soft hum and chirrups as her tongue finds yours, it's clear you've been in her thoughts as well. Goosebumps rise along your arms once she reacquaints you with her tongue. It coils around yours, her palms groping your backside with confidence now, as if your affection has given her wavering confidence the permission it needed. Grasping more than a feel of her butt, and stroking the edge of her tail, just urges the raptor further forward. Her hips grind against you while tantalizing, whining moans leak into your mouth the entire time.

It's little wonder that your pants are getting too tight. Memories of her white front and the taste of her lower lips meld with her current motions. She's already got you stiffer than iron, not that she needs to put in much effort with the inhibitions falling away. Despite the growing urge to move this along, you don't end the kiss. Instead ,you push against her tongue, gently playing against her curved teeth for the moment she lets you guide that dance.

Her enthusiasm riled up, the raptor shoves into you. She nearly topples the both of you, forcing you to take a few steps back.

Flicking your gaze towards the beanbag chair gives you a solution to this balancing problem. One that isn't breaking the raptor kiss. Slowly, hand on her gropable butt, you inch this towards the seat. It's a good thing her body responds to yours, because she's so focused on making out there's no way Anya is aware of anything but the taste of the meal you two just shared and your tongue.

Her toeclaws tap, safely away from your feet. Only for one of those claws to catch on the carpet, fumbling her forward into your arms. Shock widens green eyes, but you've got her, somehow. For a brief moment you're all that's holding her up. Then, two steps back, most of her weight held up by the tight hug, your legs hit something. Shit, you think, as you topple down into-

Right into the foam filled bean bag chair.

A fwump knocks the breath out of you both. Thankfully, no snout or nose bonking happened during the fall, but now your hips are pinned under hers.

The position is too perfect to have been planned. The surprise on her face melts into a laugh, one that you can't help but share in. Feathers rustle as she drags her arms out from behind you. A kiss on your nose, along with a devious plot in her green gaze, keeps you from leaning up into her. You settle for getting a feel of her tail, the muscles beneath swishing it up in excitement - a reaction that makes your heart race with excited possibilities.

Anya's chest heaves as she sits back, legs spread now that she's resting over your knees. Her hands drag down from your shoulders and along your front, oh so careful of her claws. Until she gets to the end of your shirt, fingers fussing for your belt. You start to help but, surprisingly, she softly brushes your hand back to her hips. A focused grin, that drinks the sight of you in, gives you every reason in the world to let her keep at it. No matter how long it takes for her to defeat the buckle it'll all be worth it.

Deinonychus determination pays off. She undoes your belt with a widening smile, her long, dextrous tongue licking around the top of her snout. When she gets the button and zipper undone, the raging hard on tenting your boxers finally has some freedom. You swear the way she looks at it gets you even harder.

Headfeathers fluff, spreading in a crest down her head like a mohawk. Girlish nervousness twinkles in her excited eyes, the confident raptor pausing with a coy smile on her snout as she sees the effect she's had on you.

Seizing the initiative, giving her that little nudge she needs, your thumbs hook under her shirt, lifting it up and exposing the downy white on her stomach.

A little, "Oh," leaves her mouth, eyes narrowingly seductively.

Lewd greens enchant you almost as much as her fingers tugging her shirt up. She wiggles, trying to get her headfeathers through while shaking her thighs against yours and exposing her bra. Your boxers are too confining for this and get even more repressive when she flings her shirt off. White feathers run up from under her jeans, over her sports bra covered breasts, melding to her fluffily feathered throat. Her dull gray bra keeps you from admiring the unbroken white stripe, but the raptor's hands are already behind her working on fixing that.

Excitement, nerves, and eagerness fumble her fingers, but she eventually gets the catches. Long arm feathers cross over her chest, obscuring her breasts as she pulls her bra off and carelessly flicks it away, to land somewhere above your head.

Unfortunately for the topless raptor, you realize in that moment that you missed a vital piece of planning. It wasn't as if you had no idea the weekend would end this way, so you have no excuse, but still, you hate to ruin the mood.

Putting a hand on hers, you say, "We might need to pause this for a moment."

Worry tilts her snout, shaking her headfeathers.

"Nothing's wrong," you assure Anya before she gets the wrong idea, "aside from me stupidly forgetting condoms."

"Hm?" she blinks, one-track mind shifting gears slowly. When it does click she lets out a small little, "Ah."

"Sorry. Not the sexiest thing to hear, I know."

Shaking her head, a small smile on her lips instead of any hint of disappointment, Anya puts a hand on your chest to keep you in place. "Well, we don't need them in the first place."

"Anya, that's-"

"A mammal isn't gonna knock me up unless I'm on pills," she says, her lack of anxiety reassuring.

Oh. Right.

Dammit, you feel like a brick eater for forgetting the basic sex-ed you had to look up in college thanks to your backwards parents. Your face burns in embarrassment for the unnecessary interruption.

"But it's just like you," she smiles, leaning in closer, breasts swaying, "watching out for me like that."

Grasping this way out that she's offering, you grin to hide the embarrassment and let your mouth dig you out of this hole. "It's hard not to watch you."

"Good," she replies, getting even closer. "I can keep watching your butt guilt free, then."

Haven't you been the one watching her ass?

That thought doesn't stick around for long.

She pushes against you stiffly, grinding against your erection, the pressure and stimulation sending a thrill across your entire body. A week of thinking about her, and she's right here about to make fantasy reality. Once these pesky clothes aren't in the way.

"I think," Anya murmurs, free hand balancing on your chest, "we should get our pants off first, next time."

You chuckle, hands finding her feathery sides. Instead of teasing how she read your mind, you go for, "Already thinking ahead?"

Snout tilting aside and feathers fluffing in embarrassment, Anya stammers, "W-well, you know I don't want this, uh, us to be a, uhm, one time th-thing."

Poor raptor, you didn't mean to trip her up on her nerves, especially not after your slip up. Despite her show of confidence, you know this is still a largely new experience for her. That she wants to have it with you, well, you'd better make it special in a cheesily sincere way you know will matter to her.

"That's quite flattering to hear when we didn't even get to finish before." Running a hand along her side, you lean up and peck her snout. Then trail kisses along her mouth and over her scales, earning a small moan from the raptor before you even reach the feathers hiding her ear. An arm around her shoulders, you whisper, "Don't worry. My cute cuddle raptor girlfriend already has me hooked."

She sucks in a breath, oh so quietly. Either from your hand petting into her tail feathers or the kisses you keep planting on her snout and, leaning in just right, under her jaw. Anya croons, hissing pleasure rumbling deep in her neck as you make good on your quiet promise.

She might be on top again, but you told her last week not to expect you to stay still. Her jeans don't have a belt, slowing your searching and devious fingers. Fortunately, you can lavish affection on her kissable scales while searching for the button and zipper. Simultaneously sneaking your other hand up and petting the side of her head is downright unfair, fingers slipping through her headfeathers for spots you discovered when snuggling on her couch. Not that her chirruping moan sounds like a complaint to you.

Your deinonychus girlfriend eagerly encourages you for more of this foreplay, only moving her head so you pay some attention to the other side of her mouth.

Anya's jeans slacken, the zipper coming down gradually. You can't see what color her panties are with her snout and hints of her hungry eyes filling your vision, but you're certain they're cute. Like everything else about her.

You tease your fingers beneath her panties, over delicate down and the mild shape of her pelvic boot, meeting slickened cloth and feathers. Feeling how wet she is just from this is intoxicating, the warmth of her nethers drawing you into your target. Raptor anatomy being what it is, you have to reach under her a little more until you find your target.

Rubbing your fingers around her needy slit, before sliding over her entrance, earns the deepest moan yet. Anya wiggles, almost riding your fingers, and pulls her arm from her breasts to hug you in place. Bare raptor tits press into you, stiff nipples affirming how horny she is.

"Ooooh, Anon," she breathes as you slip a single knuckle in. Her walls squeeze your finger tip as she pulls you into a tighter hug. Despite the grip, she easily lets your digit in. "Oh yes, more, please."

Her breathless moan of words is music to your ears - you guess she is going to play you something after all.

It's a difficult angle to work from, but you crook more of your finger into the wet and ready raptor slit. Her back arches when you start plunging in and out, her head leaning away while sounds pour out of her pleading for more.

You recall reading something, from research in preparation for this weekend, about how sensitive raptors can be but seeing is believing. Even if you messed up and got the wrong angle, Anya sure doesn't seem to care with how her hips hump your fingers. She's so wet and warm, so eager with her moans, that you can only press deeper into her needy raptor slit. Her pleasure rolls off her tongue and over your knuckles, the slow fingering you give her more than preparing her for more.

And more she must want. No sooner do you get another finger in her depths, earning a happy squeal, does she stop moving, her lustful panting assuring you she's more than pleased. Green eyes burning with unleashed hunger are all the warning you get.

Anya leans back, slipping your fingers out of her. A hurried flurry sees her kneel away from you and tug off her jeans and panties, uncovering her breasts as she uses your shoulders to balance. Black nipples in a sea of white down steal your gaze, your girlfriend seemingly happy to have you distracted by her body. Off go the rest of her garments, followed by your shirt as she gleefully peels you out of it. Kisses and licks pepper the moment, an acceptable slow down to the disrobing.

Somehow your jeans come off without ripping to her claws and your excitement. Weeks worth of anticipation sweep you both away, with clothes flung about carelessly. It's awkward as can be to get your boxers off, but the way Anya licks her scaly snout with her scandalously long tongue makes it worthwhile.

Resting on your knees again, the beautifully nude raptor wavers with hesitation. She's got what she wants, and you have her, so the final dive off this horny cliff is only a ways up your lap. Instead of jumping, she reaches down, ever so cautious of her claws, and presses her hand palm first against your shaft.

"Because of me?" she mostly teases, her innocent expression clashing cutely with how far gone you both are.

She must need a bit more courage, something you're happy to help with.

"Oh yes," you say, hand gliding up her side and groping a breast.

Anya happily leans into your touch, prodding your palm with a firm nipple.

"Then I should do something about that," she murmurs down at you, the contact already helping. "Shouldn't I?"

That was more nervous than playful, but you remind yourself she's a novice. The nerves remaining in her are cute, and all the sweeter when she instinctively guides your fondling of her chest. A novice, but she clearly knows what she likes.

"Anya," you say, lifting your hand and petting her snout, "I can't get enough of my cute, cuddly girlfriend. So let me take care of whatever," your fingers descend through cloudy down, "you need."

Predatory need flicks between you, the raging hard on she's inspired, and back to you. Headfeathers fluff out, but her aroused and focused mohawk remains distinct. You don't even get to finish teasing your way through her feathers. Surging forward, giving up on sincere if stumbling words, Anya kneels over your rigid shaft.

The look on her face tells you she wants to say more, but she stops herself. A moment later, it doesn't matter.

She uses the crook of her thumb to hold your shaft steady.

Anya's heat and wetness hover over you. Her fingers find yours, lacing together as your girlfriend takes the plunge with you. A soft sound leaves you, Anya's slit spreading and swallowing your length. Horny fantasies meet reality as she drops into your lap, squeezing on every inch that buries into her. She burns away any distracting thoughts that try to form. Fluffy feathers press against you as she leans forward, a shudder announcing the end of her descent.

Before you can express compassionate concern for your lover, a low moan rolls out of the raptor. She hugs you closer, clearly enjoying you deep in her soaked pussy.

Only two heady huffs later, she gives an experimental sway of the hips. A surge of excitement flexes muscles in your hips, Anya letting out a small gasp as you do little more than tense before hugging her back.

"Oh," she breathes in hypnotically, "I felt that."

You can't help yourself. You blow a breath down into a feathered breast, Anya clenching up in more than one way. "So did I," you teasingly say, pulling back so you can look up into the adoring green pointing down at you.

"You'll be feeling a lot more of that," she declares, drawing you into another kiss.

Claws tenderly brush through your hair.

Anya takes the lead, the restored confidence wonderful.

Her legs rise, dragging you through her tight walls before dropping back down with a soft plap. Your warmth mixes with hers in the dual embrace, her short and rhythmic motions rocking you both with waves of pleasure. Dreamy deinonychus eyes never stray from their focus on you. Being the source of her tongue's affection and slipping through her soaked slit is overwhelming. It's good, of course, yet the slow pace and her needy but careful touch swells your heart with more emotion than just carnal joy. It's something so unfamiliar after these years, that would be overwhelming and worth thinking about if Anya weren't so damn sexy. She's all you care about right now.

Your desires have you trying to meet her rocking hips, searching for a mutual timing that works for you both. With what little leverage you've got to work with, pushed down in this memory foam bean bag by a raptor nearly as tall as you, it goes surprisingly well. She's sensitive and burning with a hot need you work to satiate, unwilling to let this lovely woman do all the work. Thrusting at an angle finds a spot that catches her breath and makes you swear her slit is trying to milk you the way it practically ripples.

It takes a heavenly minute or two for you to find the right timing, but once you nail it, your raptor girlfriend shivers. "Fuck," she whines into your mouth, "keep doing that, please."

As if she needed to ask, or could even stop her own hips from bringing moans out of you.

The pace starts picking up bit by bit. You grip her ass, thumbs teasing at her tail, unconsciously encouraging her to go faster. That or you're holding on as she rides you harder, her tongue sloppily licking the side of your face when she breaks the kiss to pant. She slathers her approval along your jaw and neck, rumbling chirrups coloring each breath driven out of her bouncing chest. Even if all you hear is her, you've got no doubt you're grunting and groaning as well.

It's good she's not going faster, otherwise you'd fire off first. Raptor love juices drip down your balls as she does her best to drive you into the seat. The rising heat and foreign walls of her pussy welcome every little push up into her you manage. Feeling so wanted by Anya drives you to do all you can to make this better for her, as if it's a race to please one another more. Neither of you need to talk, your eyes and bodies and expressions saying enough.

Feeling around her tail, you hone in on a spot that raises her voice. Breathing hard into her fluff, leaning down, you kiss at her neck and slide your other hand around to play with her nipples. She's not into the tit play nearly as much as the groping of her tail. It must do something, however, since her tail starts swishing against the ground and your legs. To say nothing of the way she grinds you against her deepest parts. You kiss up her feathers, toward her neck, and get a full bodied quiver from the raptor when you start peppering love on her scaled jaw.

She can't get enough. Of how you slide through her sensitive cloaca, tease her tail, or the snout kissing and occasional petting you assail her with. All important information about the lovely raptor you'll have to tease her with in the future, when your brain can focus on anything but the bouncing of her body.

You're damn close. Strength of will and her controlled speed let you keep it at bay, hopefully long enough to outlast the raptor.

"Anon," she pants, snout dipping into a desperate kiss, "you're gonna make me... I'm so close, I'm..."

She trails off, starting to unsteadily slow down, thighs tense.

"Go on, let it happen," your mouth says, while the rest of you focuses on thrusting up into her slippery raptor slit. You show no mercy, going for a spot that starts bouncing her hips into you uncontrollably.

If she doesn't succumb soon, then you're aren't going-

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Anya whimpers. "A-Anon, I lo-"

Her snout clenches shut and she fights back a moaning squeal. Arms wrap around you, her hips not slowing despite the mighty quivering of her legs and ramrod stiffening of her tail. Then all at once, Anya drops into you hard, pushing you back farther into the seat, and cums with a barely fought back cry of pure pleasure. Undulating waves grip and grind your shaft, the pent up raptor actually riding you faster. Seconds pass without her body's motion slowing, threatening to crush your stamina.

Your breath quickens. There's no stopping the building urge in your stomach and balls. Following the advice you gave her, too far gone to even think about getting out of her massaging depths, you manage a few more thrusts into your girlfriend before you join her. Pushing her hips down, holding the twitching raptor's butt as she nearly smothers you in her neck fluff, you erupt. White pleasure and electric relief flow through and out of you. Anya moans in delight as your shaft twitches and pumps inside her. Risk free or not, there's a wild thrill that surges through you both as you give her an after dinner creampie.

Her hips go still, but her insides still faintly squeeze after you finish. As if trying to make sure she's gotten everything out of you.

That thought is way hotter than it should be, you muse in the post glow haze.

Anya flops on top of you a moment later, directing your full attention to the raptor still in the throes of orgasm. You pet and stroke your girlfriend as she quivers her way down from the sexual peak, the closeness intoxicating. With your spent and softening member still in her, you get to feel the last of her clenching die down. Being with her, knowing the dopey look settling onto her face is because of you, could dangerously swell your ego.

Anya nuzzles against you, catching her breath as, at last, she joins you in the hazy clarity.

There's no rush to move. She practically purrs in your ear, claws sliding through your hair as you idly stroke beneath the feathers of her neck. As far as blankets go, she's the best.

"So," she whispers, tongue tickling your earlobe, "you're staying over, right?"

"If you've got space," you joke, resisting the urge to let your hand stray too far down her back.

"Plenty of it in my bed," she teases with a kiss.

"Can't turn down an invite like that," you chuckle. "Just give me a few minutes to recover if you want to do that again."

"Duly noted," she says before engulfing your lips in a passionate kiss, her tongue languidly slipping against yours.

When Anya breaks the contact, a smile in her eyes, she pushes herself up, hands dimpling the cushiony memory foam by your head. Your shaft slips out of her slit, the sticky mess of sex forgotten in the moment. The gorgeous raptor stares right into you, eyes lidding when you fail to keep your fingers from trailing down her sides. It's a shame you can't stare at all of her, especially that exposed white front, much longer when she twists and thumps down into the seat right next to you. However, having her snuggle up to you, stealing an arm as she hugs you from the side, makes up for it.

This, you decide, is going to be a good weekend.