FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The doors opened, to the little conference room. Roger spared the people filing in a quick glance, before reaching into his breast pocket for his glasses. “All right, people!" he called out. “Got a lot of ground to cover, so get into your seats. Make sure you can all see the whiteboard, and if I catch you with your phones out, you better be able to tell me the last thing I said, when I call you." People filed in, taking whatever seats were available, and as soon as Roger mentioned phones, half of them already had one out and under the table. It was one of those things that the rabbit had learned not to try and fight. It made meetings slightly more tolerable, on those rare occasions he was unable to avoid pulling people in for a meeting. He still had to pretend to be a manager. But nobody said he had to be a particularly observant manager.

“All right," he said, putting the cap back on his black marker and turning to face his team. “You've all read the email. Or, at least, most of you have. Some of you need to check your inbox more than once a week." He made eye contact with three people in the room, but left it at that. “For those who aren't up to speed, I'll make it brief. We're off of contract work, starting today. Management has pulled us to take over the Sterling job. It's gonna be a big song and dance, so it's important that we're all on the same page..."

Cyrus, the slight little macaw who was crammed in between two of his larger coworkers, was not planning to be one of those people who reached for his phone. That is, until he felt the buzzing against his leg. Flinching, he turned his head towards the only person in the office who had his number. Wendy, the cat in the turtleneck on the other side of the room, gave him a smirk, before turning her attention back to a patch of air beside her leg. Slowly, Cyrus reached into his pocket to fish out his phone.

Roger, meanwhile, continued the necessary spiel in front of them. “...accounting software. You all know the type. Spreadsheets, invoices, tax information, weird financial wizard stuff, that kind of thing. Now, look, I know what you're probably thinking. 'Why don't they use...'"

One message. Of course it was Wendy. I wanted 2 ask u smth, it read.

Cyrus tapped a few keys, a smile in his eyes. Lunch, right? I was thinking that little open-air place down the street, since the weather's getting better.

“...and yeah, of course. Pangobooks is the most well known accounting software for a reason. Pretty much everyone who's ever been in an office knows how to work it. And, as it turns out..."

Lol, came the reply. Not wat i was gonna ask but that does sound nice

Cyrus's brow knitted. What's up, then?

Roger smacked his marker against the whiteboard, which made half the room look up and made Cyrus jump in his seat, a bit. “Macros," the rabbit announced. “Able to get you in and out of a complex document in seconds flat. There are folks so good at this stuff they have competitions to see..."

When his heart rate was back under control, Cyrus was aware of a new text message. He looked down to read it.

I was wonedrin why we havent done it yet

Cyrus's feathers shook, at that, which his neighbors to either side definitely noticed. He glanced at them, apologetically, before rattling out a quick answer on his phone. I don't know what you mean.

Rly? Ur feathers seem to know lmao

No, really. I don't. You're talking about... Cyrus looked furtively around the room. Nobody noticed him, but that didn't stop it feeling like he had a hundred eyes on him as he typed the next word. ...sex, right? Because we've done that.

“That's entirely the problem, actually. If the San Cristobal Spreadsheet Cavaliers can plunk down revenue figures in ten seconds flat, then..."

Ya, Wendy's reply came in, but also no. Like, there was the timr in the elevator, obvs

Obviously, Cyrus replied, nervously.

A series of text messages came in from Wendy, in rapid succession:

And then we made out alot at ur place

Uve used ur fingers alot

Ur real good with them jsyk ;3

And there was the time i sucked u off on the train

“Cyrus!"

Cyrus's beak clicked in alarm, though in a small way he was glad for the excuse to pull his eyes away from his increasingly more scandalous phone screen. Chuckling nervously, he thought for a second. “Security through obscurity, boss?"

Roger smirked, shaking his head. “Honestly, I don't know how you guys do that. I can barely use my phone while eating breakfast." He turned his back to the group, writing the phrase on the whiteboard. “Cyrus is right. 'Security...through...obscurity.' That's what the client's after. Even if somebody gets into something they shouldn't, we can at least make it a pain in the ass for them to..."

With a note of dread, Cyrus looked back down at his phone, where Wendy had apparently gotten back on track: I just mean we havent done it u no?

IT

The macaw looked up, momentarily meeting Wendy's eyes from across the room. Only momentarily, however. He did not have the spine to look long enough to figure out what she might be thinking. Taking a breath, to steady himself, he slipped his second hand down under the table and began to type. Listen, could we talk about this somewhere else? I think Cass is right behind me, and you know she gossips.

“Priority one is gonna be auditing the code. Apparently the last team wasn't good at their job, so we need to make sure..."

The phone buzzed. Wendy's response was a single word:

Lunch?

* * *

Cyrus clicked his beak, contentedly, as he put two plates down. “There you go," he chirped. “Burger and fries for you, and French toast for me."

“Thanks." Wendy picked at one of her steak fries, distractedly. She tried to make eye contact with her boyfriend. She could not, and in her limited experience that was usually a sign that something was on his mind. She made a bet with herself that the first thing he was going to do was distract. “So... Cyrus..."

The macaw's eyes smiled, down at his plate. “I know. I know, Wendy. Breakfast for lunch; not exactly the most mature option. But I've been hankering for this place's French toast ever since I heard about it, last winter, and apparently they don't change their menu after twelve, so..." Cyrus made brief, momentary eye contact with Wendy. She had a look on her face like she just won a bet.

Wendy leaned against her elbows, on the table. “Cyrus."

His beak flexed, anxiously. “Yes. Right. You want to talk about.. the thing. You want to..."

The cat took a moment to eat a few fries, waiting for Cyrus to start. He did not. So she did. “Look... I understand why it didn't happen, to start out with, right? I was off my anti-heats. Even with other protection, it's not entirely safe." She sat up, jabbing a straw into her drink. “But, like... that's over, you know? I've been back on the pill for, like, a month now."

“Yeah..." Cyrus poked at his French toast with a fork. “Yeah, I know."

“Okay, so... is something up?" She stared at him, a moment, straw resting on her lips. “I know you're not exactly unwilling. At least, I hope not..."

“N-no! No, of course n... I mean yes? I mean, no! I still..." Cyrus looked around, only to discover that he wasn't being watched by the entire restaurant, like he thought. He stared down at his plate. “I like when we... you know, do stuff. I still want you like that."

“So are you worried I'll say no?"

“No."

“Are you still worried about having kids?"

“N-no... wait, can that still happen?"

Wendy shrugged.

Cyrus took a deep breath. “Look, Wendy. I... I really like you, okay? You're really special to me, and all of this has been just the best thing that could have happened to me, and..."

“Kind of sounds like you're about to break up with me," Wendy said, between bites of burger, “not gonna lie."

“I-I'm not!" Cyrus protested, just a hair too loudly. He shrunk into himself, apologetically glancing at the people around him, before starting again. “I'm not, Wendy. I just... I... what I'm trying to say is... um..." A momentary silence fell over the table. Wendy chewed her food, blankly, as Cyrus's mouth tried and failed to make words happen. Eventually Cyrus held up a finger. “Would you... just give me a second?" Before she could answer, Cyrus pulled out his phone and began to tap at the screen with both hands.

A moment later, Wendy's pocket buzzed. Reaching down, burger in her other hand, she pulled out her phone and read the message that Cyrus had sent her:

I have a personal issue, it said, when it comes to stuff like this. I've run into it before, and it's cost me relationships.

Wendy nodded at the screen. “Okay." She met her boyfriend's eyes. “What kind of issue?"

Cyrus looked down at his phone and typed. It's embarrassing, but every time I try to move to the main event I get anxious. Distracted.

Wendy mouthed the last two words to herself, trying to figure out what that could mean. Then, her face lit up in recognition. “Oh! You have problems keeping it up."

Cyrus's feathers fluffed out so hard, Wendy thought for a second that they might have exploded off of his body. He frantically made a gesture for her to keep her voice down.

“Right. Sorry, sorry..." Wendy sighed, putting her phone down. “I mean... fair? That happens a lot, actually."

Cyrus clicked his beak, taking a keen interest in the nothing off to his side. “Yeah, well... my last girlfriend didn't think so." He flinched, when he suddenly felt a hand reach across the table and grab one of his.

Wendy smirked. “Sounds to me like your ex and my ex deserve each other, if I'm being honest." She felt his eye fall on hers, for a second, and she tried to keep that contact going. When he broke it off, again, she sighed. “Cy, man, come on. You remember how you and I got together? You think I'm gonna start getting weird about this kind of thing, after the way you've seen me?"

Cyrus did not respond to that, at first. He just tightened his grip around Wendy's hand, for a moment. He met her eyes, and this time he managed to keep it there. He chuckled. “Right. Sorry." He took a breath. “I just feel bad, you know."

“Well, stop it," Wendy said, seriously. “The way you're talking, it's like we're not even gonna try to make it happen, anyway."

“Y-you serious?"

Wendy laughed. “Why do you sound so scared about that? You're acting like I'm talking about taking your v-card."

Cyrus looked around, nervously. “Well..."

Wendy shook her head. “You are fucking adorable, you know that? Hey..." Slowly, she lifted Cyrus's hand, pulling her other one in to rub absently at the scales of his fingers. “...you know, even if it doesn't work out, there's still stuff we can do. You've still got these, after all."

Cyrus's breath hitched. “Wendy..."

“Your hands have such a good texture..."

“Wendy, come on. Th-there are people around us."

“...at least, they do when they're properly wet." Wendy smirked. On an impish impulse, she pulled Cyrus's hand towards her. She watched his eyes widen, as she opened her mouth, began to steer the macaw's first two fingers towards it.

Cyrus pulled his hand away, feathers jagged in an unambiguous bird blush. He made a half-audible excuse about their lunch break running short, quickly grabbing his fork and knife so he could occupy himself with his food. Wendy took a moment to savor her little victory, before leaning back to grab her burger.

* * *

It had been a few days since the two of them had had their conversation at the restaurant. Cyrus, despite his nervous disposition, actually found himself forgetting about it for a while. After all, for most of his time together with Wendy, the only thing he was allowed to think about was the new assignment that their boss had dropped on them. Whatever Roger said to the boss, when he was sent up to his office, was apparently enough to convince him to give the team the most valuable contract in the company. That first week was a haze of stress and confusion. Poring through documentation and programmer comments, trying to figure out what the last team was even doing. Cyrus almost wasn't given the time or the opportunity to realize the sheer amount of pressure he was being put under. Almost. Almost.

When the weekend finally came, he was half-resigned to spend it the way he usually spent high-stress weekends. He had enough food to cloister himself away in his apartment, to spend as much time as possible curled up in his bed with sappy pop and sappier paperback novels. However, shortly after his breakfast and shower, when he was busy putting a plate into the sink to soak, he heard a buzz at his front door. He raised an eyebrow, shaking the water off his fingers as he pressed the call button on the intercom. “Y-yes? Hello?"

“Yo," a familiar voice crackled in, through the speaker. “It's me."

“Wendy?"

“Uh-huh. You gonna buzz me in?"

Cyrus couldn't make his beak answer, but his finger was already over the button that would let her into the lobby. He spent a minute pacing around, wondering whether he had just imagined her voice. She couldn't be coming here, he told himself. Not that she had never been in Cyrus's apartment before. Cyrus just didn't remember there ever being a time where she came over in the middle of the day. Nervously, he looked around. His living room was disorganized. He started to move, suddenly galvanized to clean an entire apartment in the time it took...

Nope. Too late. Wendy was knocking with the insistence of one who thought knocking harder would intimidate the door into opening. Even though Cyrus was used to that, from her, he still jumped a bit. “C-coming!" Taking a breath, he opened the door. “Uh, hey, Wendy? What... what are you doing here?"

Wendy looked Cyrus up and down, with a smirk. “Am I interrupting something?"

Confused, Cyrus looked down. Then his feathers fluffed. Having just gotten out of the shower, he'd only bothered to toss on a pair of boxers, while he dried off. “Oh, jeez!" He shrunk behind the door. “Sorry! I'm sorry, I... I just got out of the shower, and... I-I can go get dressed, if you give me a second."

“Nah, you're good." Wendy gently pushed herself into the living room. “It's your place, after all. Besides, you look good like that."

Cyrus closed the door behind her, even though it meant he could no longer hide behind it. “S-so... what are you doing here?"

Fortunately for Cyrus, Wendy seemed more interested in the sight of his apartment in the cold light of day than she did the sight of a half-naked macaw. For now, anyway. “You said you were gonna make today a bed day. I'm looking to get in on that."

“Really?"

“Yup. You said it was an open invitation, so..."

“I-I did?" Cyrus thought back, a moment. “Oh, right. I did. Of course I did. Well... all right. You know where my bedroom is. I'll just get some... um... I'll just..." His words lost steam, as he watched Wendy slowly unbutton her blouse and shuck it off of her body. Tossing it onto the couch, she turned and wrapped her arms around Cyrus's only mostly dry body. Pressing her black bra against his chest, and her face into his neck, suddenly came the purring. Cyrus shivered. It was always the purring that did it. Feeling her rumble under his feathers, he put his arms around her shoulders. “Y-you know what?" he said. “Maybe I'll just walk you there."

Navigating the tight corridors while attached to his girlfriend was more difficult than it had any right to be. Cyrus suspected that Wendy was deliberately trying to distract him with all the purrs and giggles into his throat and chest. He had to struggle to avoid her heels, slide his back along the walls, hope that she didn't notice the beginnings of the bulge tenting his boxers and get any ideas. When he finally crossed the threshold into his room, he was surprised when he felt himself being turned around. With a yelp, he fell over backwards onto his bed, and before he could recover himself there was a cat on top of him.

“God, Wendy," he breathed. “You're real touchy today." He swallowed, as he felt kisses being planted up the side of his neck. “Y-you're not in heat again, are you?"

Wendy chuckled. “I don't need to be hormonal to want body contact, do I?"

“N-no, I guess not. Just..." He felt one of his wrists get grabbed, then the other. He stifled an alarmed chirp, tried to keep his eyes from widening, as he looked into Wendy's.

“You all right, Cy?" Wendy lifted the macaw's arms up, moving them around abstractly like they were toys. “I can feel your pulse; your heart is pounding."

“Is it?" Cyrus replied, unconvincingly. “S-sorry, it's just... um it's... been a while."

“Yeah, it has." Wendy's body slid against the macaw's feathers, as she planted a soft kiss on the side of his beak. “I was thinking about that conversation we had, a few days ago. About how you get jittery when things get a little too... heavy. Well... you don't feel very jittery, right now."

Cyrus took heavy breaths, as the cat's knee gently pressed against the fully formed bulge under his boxers. Slowly, he felt his arms being pulled up over his head, pinned down against the mattress. “Wendy... that's, um..."

Wendy chuckled, lifting her face so she could meet his eyes. “You definitely didn't have the jitters when we were on the train. Or in the elevator. So, for a minute, I thought you might have just really liked doing it in places where we could get caught."

Cyrus shook his head. “A-are you kidding? I just about had a heart attack, both times!"

“I believe that." Wendy rocked her hips, rubbing her leg up and down against the warm, throbbing mass that leaked against her slacks. “Especially since you feel so ready to go, right now. It's okay. I've got backup theories. You wanna hear them?"

“Y-yes?" Cyrus's expression was chiefly one of fear, but that didn't stop his eyes from roving, hungrily. “Uh, yes. Yes. I... I trust you, Wendy."

“Good. Close your eyes."

“M-my eyes? Why? What are you going to do?"

“You'll see," Wendy replied, with a grin.

Cyrus paused, a moment. “Actually, I won't. 'Cause, you know, if my eyes are closed, I..." He was not able to continue his objection, in the face of his girlfriend's grin becoming wider and more impish. With a sigh, he rested his head against the pillow, slowly shutting his eyes. “A-all right, Wendy. I said I trust you, and... ohhh?"

Without his eyes, he could only feel and hear the cat sliding up his body. Soft, loving kisses peppered his neck, his beak, his head. His wrists were released, and the hands that held them down began to move. One slipped around him to cradle his head, while the other rustled softly elsewhere. Was she reaching for something? His brow furrowed in curiosity, but he didn't dare open his eyes. Suddenly, both hands were occupied around his head. Something was stretched around him. Something soft pressed against the bridge of his beak and eyes, as a band pressed a ring of feathers down flat. Unable to resist the temptation, he opened one of his eyes.

All he saw was darkness.

He had questions, but all that came out his mouth was a nervous chirp.

“There we go," Wendy whispered, inordinately pleased with herself. “How's that? Comfy? Not too tight?"

“Is..." Cyrus swallowed, nervously. “Did you put a blindfold on me?"

“Yup. Just something I had in my back pocket. Should help you pay attention to what you need to. And these..." A nearly inaudible rattle of metal made its way to Cyrus's ears. “...should make sure you don't go anywhere."

“What? What is it?" Cyrus's heart raced, as he felt one of his hands taken, again. “Wendy? What are 'these?'"

“Cyrus..." Wendy's voice was clearly trying to be reassuring, but it wasn't hard at all for Cyrus to hear the smile in her voice. “I want you to know you're in control, here. Say the word, and we can pump the brakes."

“W-Wendy?!" Something soft and fuzzy slipped around his fingers, then his hand, before settling around his wrist. Then the second hand was pulled towards the first. It too was wrapped in something soft. Cyrus quickly learned that his hands could not pull themselves apart. His breath came out in a shuddering gasp, as the full weight of what was happening started to set in. “Oh, jeez," he whimpered. “These... these are handcuffs, aren't they?"

“You can tell that, just by feel?"

“I know... what fuzzy handcuffs are."

“Oh, you do?"

Cyrus squirmed. “That's... that's not..."

Wendy chuckled. “Holy fuck, you're cute." With a tug, Cyrus felt his hands held over his head. “Keep those there for me, will you," Wendy teased. “It's part of my plan."

In all the excitement, Cyrus had forgotten there was supposed to be a plan. He made a breathy half-moan, whose tone allowed it to double as a question.

“You see..." Wendy rubbed her hand up and down the macaw's chest. Every stroke upward ruffled his feathers. She knew from past experience that that set the poor boy off. “If it isn't the risk of getting caught that does it for you, I think you like having nowhere to go. Stuck where you are, no choice but to deal..."

“Wendy... th-th-that's..."

“Am I wrong?" He felt her slide off of his body, felt her hand trail down. It slipped under the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a distressed chirp from his beak. Wendy chuckled. “It looks to me that I might be onto something, here."

“This... Wendy, this is kind of..."

“Yeah?"

“...intense."

“Are you okay? Should we slow down?"

Cyrus clicked his beak, shifting in bed, but he kept his hands over his head. He took a moment, more to steady his breath than to think about things, and then he said “I... I'm okay. I think I'm okay."

“Good." Slowly, deliberately, Wendy pulled Cyrus's boxers down his legs, rumbling with purrs as she watched his tapered cock spring to attention.

Cyrus took big, shaky breaths. Without his eyes, all he could do was feel that first embrace of fingers around his member. Wendy's grip was soft, warm and almost maddeningly weak in its touch. She refused to grip him, to stroke him, even despite his chirps of needy protest. Instead, she seemed to settle on slow, feather-light brushes of flesh against twitching flesh. Stroking him all the way to hardness, and then stroking him further into flames. However, as soon as he found himself riding the high that comes before the plateau, her hand was gone. He moaned a question into the darkness. The sound of something plastic snapping was all that answered him.

“You're squirming, quite a bit," her voice came in. Cyrus could almost hear the smirk as she spoke. “Were you close?"

“Uh... I kinda was." His beak worked, nervously. “Sorry."

“You silly bird."

Cyrus squawked, as her hand gripped his member again, harder than before. A slick of something warm and wet covered her palm. She leaned forward, her whiskers tickling at the feathers of his cheek.

“Squirming is good," she purred. “Squirm as much as you want."

It took no time at all for Cyrus to be stroked back where he had been, just before the interruption. She had him firmly in her hand, and was now sliding fully up and down. The wheels clicked; that was lube. She had opened a bottle of lube, just now. Soon, he was rocketing past that early flutter. His legs scrabbled for purchase against the sheets. His hips tried in vain to thrust upwards. The beginnings of a long, gasping orgasm were just a handful of strokes away.

And then his cock was left to hang in the air, alone.

“No, please!" He squawked. “Don't stop! I..."

“One second," Wendy replied, her voice anything but apologetic. “You're making me feel a bit overdressed. I'm just gonna take a minute or two to get these pants off." A shuffle of fabric, a shift of weight as a body rolled off the bed. “Let's see, here... oh, man. I always struggle getting out of these."

Despite himself, Cyrus found himself laughing. “Oh, jeez. You're doing the thing, aren't you?"

“What thing?" Wendy's innocent act was patently unconvincing. “I'm struggling to get out of my pants, over here. Probably because my hands are so slippery from lubing up your cock."

A smile was in Cyrus's eyes and the click of his beak, even as his feathers ruffled in agitation.

“Patience, babe." Wendy's voice got lower, as she bent over to pull down her slacks. As keyed up as he was, Cyrus could barely hear her stepping out of her clothes over the sound of the blood rushing past his ears. She slid back onto the bed, once again brushing against his throat as she rumbled up to him. “I didn't break out the cuffs and the blindfold just to jerk you off, you know."

“N-no?" Cyrus's chest heaved. “What did you h-have in mi_iiind_?"

Cyrus could once again hear the smirk in her voice, as her hand snaked down to tease his member, again. “Well, I brought flavored lube, so I was thinking..."

“Y-you wanna... you wanna..."

“Yeah? Go on, say it."

Cyrus fidgeted, in embarrassment. “You want to... go down on me?"

“Holy fuck," Wendy breathed, with loving amusement. “Just... stay put, little man. You're gonna love this."

Cyrus tried to keep still, as he tracked his girlfriend's movements with nothing but sound and the warmth of her body. She padded to the foot of the bed, climbing on top and between his legs. Once again, her hand snaked out to wrap around his member, pumping it and spreading more lube across its length. He was expecting the tongue, that rough (but not unpleasant) organ scraping against him. However, much to his surprise, he felt something drape across his thigh, felt his other one being lifted up. Then, slowly, something hot and wet simply descended down around him.

“Ohhh-hhhh!" His voice went up an octave, as he found himself fully engulfed. “Oh, dear. Y-you're not wasting any... oh d-dear..." He threw his head back, chirping in pleasure as she began to rise up and down with slow, circular movements. “God, Wendy, this... this feels so different. I didn't think the blindfold would... would..." Under the blindfold, his brow furrowed. “Actually... no, this feels really different."

“That's 'cause I changed my mind."

Cyrus's feathers fanned out. Wendy's voice was above him, nowhere near where he had expected. And in fact, she shouldn't have been able to talk with her mouth full. “Wendy? Wendy, are we...? Is that your...?" He made a shuddering noise from the pit of his stomach. “Oh, God, Wendy. We're... we're really doing... having...?"

“We're fucking, Cyrus," Wendy finished, with a triumphant moan. “Congratulations on becoming a man, champ."

“Hnnn... Wendy... Wendy please, I..." Cyrus squirmed and panted. “I want to... s-see you."

For a brief moment, the cat was silent. She could not think about how to respond to that. The tone in his voice was so small, so earnest, she didn't have the heart to rib him about it. With a smirk, she leaned forward. “Sure. I wanted to see your eyes, anyway."

When the blindfold was pulled off of his head, Cyrus's eyes were wide. His girlfriend's fur caught the light, streaking in from the blinds, outlining the side of her body. Dressed in nothing but her earrings, the whole of her calico pattern was on full display. Cyrus took heavy breaths, as he took in the swell of her modest breasts, the curve of her stomach. These were all things he had seen, before, but he lingered on them anyway, as he gathered up his courage to let his eyes wander further down. There, he saw the two of them, joined at the hip. She half-straddled him, one leg over his and one under. His one leg was lifted up, spreading him apart. Which meant he could clearly see where his cock ended and her vulva began.

He let out a shuddering breath. “Th-this was a mistake. Put the blindfold back on."

“You okay?"

“No. I mean, yes, I..." Cyrus squinted, beak open in wordless pleasure, as he tried to keep himself from cumming, on the spot. “Wendy, I can't... I can't ho..."

Despite all her best efforts to behave, the urge to tease returned to Wendy, in full force. “You can't ho? I don't understand." Slowly, she began to grind herself against his hips, stirring his twitching cock inside her. “What are you trying to tell me, babe?"

“Seriously, Wendy, s-slow down. I'm..." Cyrus faltered, embarrassment momentarily winning out over his swiftly approaching orgasm. “I'm gonna... I'm..."

“You're gonna what?" Wendy began to grind and stir, harder, dragging him around her insides as she held him down with her hip. “Use your words, babe. Tell me what you're gonna do."

“God, please...! It's too... I can't..." Cyrus let out a strangled groan. “Mommy, I'm...!"

“'Mommy?'" Wendy froze, at that. She would not have time for follow-up questions, however, because right at that moment her sex was being flooded with an absolute torrent of hot, sticky seed. She shivered, arching her back as she let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a laugh. All that mattered, right at that moment, was the feeling of her boyfriend kicking and spraying, riding out every single drop, basking in the feeling of power that could only come from having a boy underneath you, squirming and bawling with pleasure.

For Cyrus, the moment seemed to go on, forever. His hips tried and failed to thrust home, to try and get deeper than it already was. His hands, still obediently over his head, gripped at a pillow. The cheap chain holding his wrists together stretched and warped, almost breaking entirely from the force of his violent trembling. The wind down was slow, as he went from a shout, to a groan, to a whimper. When he could finally open his eyes, again, there was a momentary look on his face that could only be described as an overwhelming awe, at the woman on top of him.

And then he looked in her eyes, saw the slowly spreading, almost predatory smile, as something seemed to click in her head.

“So..." she purred, “... did I just mishear you?"

Cyrus tensed up, suddenly. “Oh..."

“Because I could have sworn..."

“Oh n-no... Wendy, I..."

“Did you just call me 'Mommy?'"

“Ohhhhhhh..." Cyrus buried his face in his hands, feathers quaking in embarrassment.

Despite herself, Wendy found herself giggling. “Fucking hell, Cy. How do you expect me to bust your balls if you're just gonna be adorable about it?" Sliding off of his hips, she situated herself under his arms and planted a kiss onto the side of his beak. “Here, come on. Let's get you out of those cuffs, huh?"

Awkwardly, Cyrus forced himself to meet her gaze. “I-I'm sorry. I blew it, didn't I?"

“Shhhh..." For a moment, nothing but the sound of her gentle purrs filled the air, as she pulled the loops of fuzzy fabric off of his wrists. Then, she spoke. “You did not blow it, you goober. I loved every little noise you just made. Even that last one."

“Th-that just came out. I dunno..."

“Shhhh. Chill, Cy. Chill. We can talk about it later. With pants on." Wendy pulled the last cuff of of Cyrus's wrist, only to replace it with her hand. “For now, though, you don't need to worry about whether you blew it. The night's not over yet."

Cyrus ruffled. “I-it's not?"

“Hell no. I'm glad you managed to bust one, but I haven't gotten mine, yet." With a smirk, she pulled his hand down her body, nestling it between her legs as her purrs got ever louder. “Why don't you use those talented fingers of yours to give Mommy a helping hand, hmm?"

Cyrus swallowed, nervously. “Y-yes... um d-d-dear."

Wendy's smile deepened. However, once those textured digits finally starting moving against her slick, semen-covered sex, her cajoling whispers were replaced with deep, luxurious pants and moans.