FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Erika, would you – stop-”

“No. I need help. I can’t do it on my own.”

Max squirmed to the side but remained where he sat, legs crossed, paws clutched tight around the controller. His sister’s ankles resting across one of his shoulder weighed him down, but no matter how he tried to wriggle away she just stayed in place on top of him, the other wild dog lounging back on the couch at his back.

Knew it was a mistake to sit on the floor, he thought, trying to avoid looking over at her paint-splotched footpaws. She smelled of the shampoo she wore in the shower – that both of them wore, as the siblings always showered together on the several days their parents were out of the house – spiced with the faint kick of the day’s sweat, particularly laced about her soft yet calloused pads. Those he could see out of the corner of his eye even as he tried to focus on the TV screen, the lights from his game flashing. He could pause, and knew that Erika both expected and wanted him to, and that was exactly why he didn’t.

His sister lifted one of her footpaws, stretched her toes out, and then crossed it over the other, then tugged gently back on that shoulder to nestle the back of her ankle against his chest. He glanced down, swallowed, forced himself to look back up, and adjusted how he sat, trying to hide the truth of the movement.

“Max. Hey, Max. Look. Look, Max.”

“Erika, I’m – in the middle of an important-”

“Sure. But I do need your help.” She waggled her footpaws side to side and bumped against the side of Max’s muzzle, likely accidentally at first, and then deliberately. Then again, and again, until he had to close that eye and lean away. “Can’t you spare some time for your dear sweet sister? Besides, looks like-”

The screen flashed; the music stilled; the menu popped up. Max took in a breath, held it – tasted her on the air again, just slightly – and then sighed out.

“Okay. Fine. What do you want?”

“Didja see?”

Still leaning back, he turned to look up at her, and then froze halfway there. Cinnamon and ochre footpaws speckled through with splashes of black folded over his shoulder, with the fresh, luscious pink of her pillowy pads poking out from beneath each individual toe; she had painted her claws as well, halfway nestled within the bushy tufts of toe-fur, all in an array of sweet springtime pastels; and then…

Then Max’s breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed again. Nudged behind the first knuckle of the big toe there, shimmering silver glistened out against the earth tones of her fur, bright and warm, somehow more so than the footpaws themselves. Like a magnet he felt himself drawn there, and couldn’t look away no matter how much he tried.

And then Erika spoke again, for a moment breaking the spell: “Do you like it?”

“You…” Yet again he swallowed. His throat felt dry, yet his mouth watered. “Got a toe ring?”

“Yeah. Cool, ain’t it?”

“What do you… um… need my help with?”

“It’s stuck.” She flexed that footpaw, lifting it up from the one underneath, and stretched her toes out. Speckled pads reached towards the end of Max’s muzzle, each of her toepads clean, soft pink, the largest one underneath bearing a splash of tannish-brown like a pinto bean. “I need you to help me get it off, so I can see if it fits a different.

Again he sighed, though already he had reached to place the controller on the floor. “Well… I…”

“No.” Erika folded that footpaw away from his shoulder. “No paws. No fingers.”

“What? How in the hell d’you-”

“You know. You’re a smart boy. I saw your SAT scores in high school.”

He frowned. “What…”

But Erika just wiggled her toes again, spreading them out on both footpaws, then curling them in. Gently calloused pads of the one on top brushed across the fur of the one underneath, reshaping her spots and speckles, causing the fur to poke out in little tufts around luxurious, soft skin. The ring glistened again, catching the light of the living room fan overhead, reflecting a warped mirror of the TV across the room in its curved surface; Erika pushed the big toe up and her others down, and wiggled it up, and towards his snout, and-

“Use your mouth,” she purred, voice low. “Take it off this one, and put it on-” And she stretched out the same toe on her other footpaw. “-this one. Now, Max.”

His heart skipped a bit – and then he felt his tail wag. Trying to hide his excitement, Max put on his best annoyed-brother expression and leaned forward; he flicked his tongue out across his lips to ensure they were nice and slick, then came in a little closer, made a show of sniffing at her footpaw and stretched toes, and then… then licked there as well. It was a small, gentle touch at first, brushing up along the little slit between the base of her claw and the front of her toe: he felt the silken, high-gloss finish of her polish, the little catch of bare material underneath, the firm rim of the quick just past that; then a little tuft of the fur itself, short and stiff yet still soft, warm, a little bit salty, slightly sour.

And he did so again, now curling underneath towards the pad. This bore the same array of gentle spicing, more essenced than flavored, like a light, airy spray just slightly dusting his breath. His tongue curled underneath, cupped along her toepad, slid forward, nestled soft flesh within softer muscle… and then he spread and closed his lips around her, moving down to the knuckle, then to the base. Her other toes pushed in against his cheek from outside, claws angling away but still leaving a slight scrape.

Avoiding her eyes, he swallowed around her toe, tasted her again, then shifted his tongue forward, down. He felt the stiff, smooth surface of the ring nestled there: he had to tug against it, the flat of his tongue lifting up against her pad and squishing it against himself, then pulled, sucked gently, pulled again. It had to rotate to come free, and then it jostled loose, clinked against his upper teeth, and sheathed itself partially around his tongue.

Above him Erika smirked, squirmed, and drew her toe back out of his mouth, letting a thick strand of saliva hang down, wobble, and then break between his lips and her pad. She flexed her toes, curled them, then tilted the uppermost footpaw back and the lower one forward. Instead of presenting the proper toe, she simply pressed all of them against Max’s lips, then wiggled there, curling into his mouth so that he had to shift himself to the side.

Yet again he moistened her fur first, the ring clamped between the surface of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. One paw on the edge of the couch and the other awkwardly out in the air, he leaned in, pushed his lips to the base, then wrenched his eyes shut so he could focus, line it up, push it on. He lost his grip, felt it roll off into the side of his mouth, wiggled it back into place – Erika twitched and giggled with the tickle – and swirled his tongue all around it to push it down and wedge it behind the knuckle.

When he drew back he cupped his tongue along her pad again, then suckled gently as he came free. He could still taste her afterwards, that slight sheen of salt clinging to his lips; Max couldn’t help but swirl his tongue around there, lapping off the gathered slickness, and swallowed again.

His sister caught his eye. He looked away, reached for the controller, accidentally knocked it further.

“I’m gonna – get back to my game now, I-”

“Sure. I’m gonna go to my bedroom.” She pushed her footpaws against his shoulder, slid forward, and stood up, her tail brushing across his muzzle. “See you later.”

Max watched as she strolled away. Then, tongue still tingling with the sensation of her fur and pads and claws, he heaved a sigh, paused the game, and stood up to follow.