FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

SESSIONS

One finger tap, and my entire yearly tax return is gone. I sit back and try to stay calm. My hands rub my thighs. I have no idea when he will reply, or even if. He usually charges $100 an hour, and I just sent him seven times that much. ?

In a few minutes, a confirmation email comes to my inbox containing a duplicate of my ridiculous expense as well as a copy of all the information I entered - including the contents of the little text box where clients can describe what exactly they want from their session with him. ?

His name - at least the only one I know him by - is Troy Masters. I've known him for years. He was my first and favorite masturbation material. His was the first real porn I ever saw. And now I'm going to enjoy hours of delicious private time, just him on his webcam, performing whatever actions I want him to with requests on my keyboard, sent out like prayers to this towering muscle god.?

The text I sent him with the payment wasn't so much a description of what I wanted as a confession. Almost an autobiography of every illicit night spent humping my sheets, my pillows, my palms to his body. ?

I'm sure it'll be hours before I hear back. I try to focus on other things. It's finals week at college. The sky outside is sunny for the first time in weeks. Birdsong filters into my off-campus apartment through the big windows that face the fenced-in back yard with the two-story maple trees just starting to bud. I bend over my accounting textbook, but the only numbers that swim in my head are His mind-boggling statistics. - 45 years old. 6'7. 400 pounds of hulking, iron-bending, shredded, sweaty muscle. Unflexed biceps as large as my head, and pectorals almost three times that size. My crotch is a single, chronic ache. ?I jump when my inbox chirps. I open up the app. ??

8:30 pm. Tonight.?- TM??That's it. No more studying for me today. I let out a whimper of delight and close my laptop. I pace the apartment, idly rubbing my fingers around the base of my antler nubs. It's a bad habit for a stag to have. Dad was always trying to get me to stop. ?

I pass myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the bathroom door. A toned, athletic whitetail deer with a single pierced ear and blue eyes looks back at me. I'm not stranger to the gym, myself. After three years, my svelt frame has started to blossom into something a little more presentable without a shirt on. Nice, perky hard pectorals. A framed four pack. Decent arms when I bother to flex them. I've been told before I could model if I tried. ?

Time crawls. I sent Troy the request at 4:30 in the afternoon. By some miracle, he apparently wasn't booked for anything today. Maybe it's a slow season for him. Or maybe the sheer amount of money I sent got his attention.

What do I call him when he answers? I don't deserve to use his first name, and Mr. Masters sounds way too formal for a boar who's huge dripping wang I've watched spurt greasy cum at the camera so close it almost coated the lens. ?

I take a cold shower, as cliche as that sounds. I try to lose myself in some video games. I go for a jog. Might as well enjoy the balmy weather. The neighborhood is alive with other furs out enjoying the sun. Fox kits chase each other over a lawn. Randy, an old Shetland pony wearing a sun hat, bends over his rose bushes. Down the street, a wolf frat house has already broken out the barbeque and I swear I can see at least one discarded beer bottle on the lawn. ?

None of them know that I have an Internet date with the greatest paragon of manhood on the planet. None of them suspect that under my respectable tee shirt and jeans is a raging lustful beast who's going to put a hairy sweaty hulk through his paces. The disconnect between realities is delicious.?

For some reason, I clean myself up as if this were a real date. As if Troy were going to swagger up to my door in person and take me out. I comb my hair. I spread some lotion on my velveteen nubs that will grow into a full rack by my birthday in June. I even set the lights in the apartment down low and slide into the sluttiest piece of clothing I can think of - a simple white jock strap, a hold-over from my failed attempt to join the college softball team. ?

8pm. My tail won't stop moving. I pace the apartment in front of my open laptop. It's a 20-incher, and now I wish I'd gone even bigger. Troy deserves the biggest screen. The highest resolution. ?

Minutes tick by. Finally, finally, my alarm sounds. I flick on the browser, load the web site, link to the private video feed, type in the password sent in the confirmation email. Nothing. Just an error message: Video feed not available. ?

What the fuck? Did the bastard just take my money and run? I reload the webpage and try again. Still nothing. Don't panic. He's just a little late, that's all. At 8:36 pm, the error changes to a "Click to Activate Feed" bordered by two garish, flashing yellow icons. My finger shakes as I click.?

I've participated in Troy's live webcam sessions before as part of a group. He runs them on a weekly basis, and I haven't missed a single one since I bought my membership to his fan club. It's the same format here, but now the only name that appears down the side of the chat box is "Luvdeer" - my handle. ?

The webcam loading wheel spins, then fades and is replaced by a massive living wall of hairy flesh inside a white muscle shirt stretched so thin it looks like Troy is wearing suspenders. The straps of the shirt barely cover his nipples. He rolls them and slowly sits back until I see his face.?

Fucking shit what a face. A wild boar with a neck you could wrap in a belt, sporting a soul patch and a military-style crew cut. Dark brown eyes look down at a spot where his screen would be and he grins, which makes his huge tusks jut out slightly to the sides. His cheeks are pockmarked, a sign of the years of wear on his face. He has some laugh lines and brow wrinkles, and his hair is dusted with silver. ?

"What's up, champ?" he booms to me. To ME. "I recognize your name from my weekly vid casts."?My heart nearly stops. He KNOWS me! He idly flexes one of those godly arms and admires it, examining it with his head cocking this way and that, then leans forward to tenderly smooch the side of his bloated, veined muscle before lowering his arm again. ?

"You there, buddy?"?I start. Shit, I have to type something! I'm his only customer! ?Beaming like an idiot, my fingers fly on the keyboard: Hello, Sir!?

He chuckles. Slow and deep. Oh I could melt to the timber of that voice! He gives another casual roll of his massive hairy pecs. ?"So you're my most loyal fan, huh?" he thunders in a tone like hot fudge. ?

Oh GOD yes, Sir! Luvdeer says with about four hearts afterward. ?

"Certainly never had anyone spend that much on me at any one time, that's for sure! Got my attention," Troy says. He leans toward the camera, propping his huge arms on the counter top. His face fills the view.?

"You got a webcam, fanboi?"?

Luvdeer types: Yes.?

"Turn it on. I wanna see what my most loyal fan looks like."?I slap my hands over my muzzle. Is he serious? I ask him.?

"Did I stutter, boy?" He leans back like some hairy barbaric big-tusked king on a throne. He slowly smears one hand up over a pec so thick it might have been a breast. Stand by, I say.?

I am not thinking at this point. This is no time to rationalize. He's given an order. I have to obey. I tab out of full screen mode. I access my computer's accessories and activate the webcam, praying that it interfaces with his website's software. ?A smile - a huge, slow smile - breaks out over his gorgeous, brutish, grizzled face. ?

"How did I know you were a college boy?"?It's only then I realize I'm still naked except for my jock. A blush explodes over my cheeks and, I swear, all the way down my neck, too. ?

"All dressed for the occasion, too, I see!" Troy says.?

"Y...yes, sir," I half whisper.?

"I love college boys."?

I let out a moan. I'm hard as a dildo and I haven't even touched myself. He spreads his own massive, shredded freakish thighs apart. There are visible veins jutting underneath that pale, pink hide and tufts of hair sprout from the tops of his legs. He shows off the fat bulge in his gym shorts to me.?

"Tell Daddy boar what you want, boy."?

"MMnnnh...t.take off your shirt, Daddy! Please!"?

It feels so natural to call him that. He seems to eat it up, too, from the way his crotch gives a visible throb on camera, a tiny wet spot forming there. He reaches down, grabs his white tank, and peels it off for me. All for me. I've seen him pull this trick hundreds of times and it gets me every time - how the muscle shirt hides details but shows enough mass to tantalize you, only to reveal more than you ever hoped he had. Nobody is as freakishly built as this boar. Not even pro-bodybuilders. I've looked. I wonder how many roids Troy takes. How many synthol injections he uses to augment things. I don't care. I want every inch of what he gives me now.?Hair - heavy and black - coats his abs so that the abdominal muscles jut out of it like hills out of a jungle. The hair runs upward and spreads out across the expanse of his shredded mega pectorals. Now I can see how mouth-watering his nipples are. I'm pretty sure he clamps them to get them so stiff and fat. His chest hair is thick, but not a bush. Like a fine summer meadow, it coats but does not disguise what lies beneath it. ?

"Your turn, fanboi," he husks out, jiggling those hairy monsters and lowering his tongue to slurp at the top of his own pecs while he makes eyes right at the camera lens. It's one of his signature moves. ?

"What?" I ask, confused.?

"Take it off."?

"What, my...my jock?"?

"I wanna see how hard I make you."?

I blush anew. I timidly rise, adjust the angle of the monitor. I start to simply pull it down, then I pause and slowly turn around so my ass is to the screen. I bend at my waist, perk my tail, splay my legs. I sway side to side as I work the jock's straps down my hamstrings. ?

"Oohhhh," comes Troy from behind me. "Ohhh baby, yeah. That's what daddy likes. Show me what a slut you are this body!"?

I groan. I spank myself. I spurt pre onto my fucking couch. I turn around and wag my rod for him. It's only 11 inches if you're generous. Nothing compared to his 16. I reach down and stroke it nice and slow. His dark eyes eat it up. ?

"That's a good boy."?

"Now yours, please, Daddy. I want to see that big thick rod!"?

He stands up. He looms over the camera and points at me.?

"You can beg better than that."?

He watches, imperious, while I kneel before my laptop. I give him my best doe-soft liquid Bambi face.?

"Show me your cock, Daddy. Pleeeease!"?

He smirks, satisfied. "Let Daddy show you how it's done."?Oh I know he knows how it's done. So many other muscle worship gods seem to shy away from the full nudity. You can find vids of them flexing and dominating and stripping to their underwear, but only a few go full sausage. That's why I love Troy. He's utterly shameless about his cock. ?

He turns his ass to the camera. Fills the view with it. Hikes up the back of his shorts. Faint hair covers his glutes, just to emphasize his maniless, I think. He sends ripples - actual ripples of striated muscle - up his glutes before he grabs the waistband of his shorts and RIPS them to shreds, growling. ?

"Fuck you make me so horny, little buddy! I couldn't keep these clothes on if I wanted!"?

I'm wordlessly working my stiff shaft, giving little begging noises, trying not to shoot. But fuck he's making it hard to stay in control! Under his shorts, Troy wears a black g-string. He turns his side to the camera, showing off the girth and heft of his package. I can see it's straining at the material. From this angle, it looks like he has a ripe squash stuffed in there. He grips the underside of it, showing off its sheer weight, then spreads his fingers and smeearrrrs them over the crotch of his thong.?

"Bet you'd love to smell this, huh, boy?"?

"Mmmmmmmmm...daddy!"?

"And lick it, too?"?

"Ohhhh!"?

"And yank it off with your teeth?"?

"YES!"?I squeeze the base of my shaft with all my strength. Only the tiniest drip of cum escapes. It hurts to hold back my orgasm but I have to. I know if I even brush my balls right now I'd lose it.?

He swaggers away from the camera so I can see the entire expanse of his mighty legs, ass, and back. He turns his tusked, smirking head back over one shoulder, eyeing me, and pulls the elastic sides of the g-string out. He steps out of one leg hole, then the other. Lets the thong drop. Finally turns to face the camera.?

There it is. There's his masterpiece, his full glorious uncut penis. I do love a hairy guy, but for whatever reason, I'm turned off by pubic hair and pit hair. He's fresh-shaved for me. I can see every wrinkle in his huge scrotum. See the shadows play in every fold of his foreskin. ?

He swaggers back toward me. I can hear the faint thud thud thud of his huge manly feet. He straddles the fucking camera so his cock dangles at an extreme angle and pulls the foreskin back. ?

"NNnnfffffffff!"I slam my fist into the table, squeezing my eyes shut hard.?

"Open your goddamn eyes, boy! I want you to see this!"?

I force my eyes open with a gasp. The only thing on camera is his glans. He must have it practically smearing on the webcamera. He gives his invible cock a hard stroke, groaning, grunting, oinking. Pre starts to drool from that yawning cum slit.?

"Open your mouth boy!"?

I shove my face into the screen. I lick it. I cum. My semen splatters all over my keyboard. All over the desk it rests on. My knees give out and I collapse back onto the pre-soaked couch. My heart hammers. I gasp for breath. I've cummed so hard it hurts. ?

Troy adjusts the camera with one hand and grins at me.?

"How hard did you go?" he asks.?

"B...best in my fucking life!" I say.?

"That's what I wanna hear, boy!"?

I smile in pride. I manage to open my eyes and look at the screen where he's longing in an office chair, naked, and stroking his porcine monster nice and slow. Dude's a penis pumper. He has to be. His cock looks like a huge Coke can in that fist, his exposed cockhead an angry scarlet from all the blood flushing into his dick.?

"Snnnrrrt...how about finishing me off, boy?"?

"Mmmmnnn...anything for you, Daddy."?

He grins at me."Wanna see a new trick I've come up with? Nobody else has seen this, yet."?

"Oh god, yes, Daddy!"?

He turns his head to the side. "Promise you won't tell?"?

"I promise! I promise!"?

Jesus, Troy has me at half mast again!?Troy brings his huge legs upward, bent at the knees, resting the soles of his feet on the edge of the chair. At first I think he's going to suck himself off, which I've seen before. It's one of my favorite vids. But no. Instead he starts to slap his drooling mega dick against his bouncing hairy pecs. Splat..splat...thud-splat. ?

"Fuck I'm so manly!" he breaths. He eyes me. "What'chyou think, fanboi?"?

I grab the edges of the monitor."You're the manliest guy on the fucking PLANET, Troy!" I yell.?

"Oooooo...say it again, boy! Tell me more!"?

He closes his eyes as if in rapture. He starts to shove his cock down, down between his own pecs! He has the camera angled so that the bottom edge of the monitor cuts off sight of his knees and the top edge just shows a hint of his chin. The rest is meat - pecs, nipples, sometimes his fingers, and that throbbing, drooling piggy dong being slowly suffocated by his throbbing pecs.?

"You're magnificent! You're a god! You could have any gay guy in the world if you wanted! You're like our king, Troy! I could never whack off to anyone else but you!"?

I watch his mouth gasp as he devours my praise. His cock looks like a hot dog in two hairy buns of boarish hamburger. He starts to throb his pecs hard and slowly, starts to bounce them back and forth. Working his dick with his bloated chest. ?

"How does it feel, Daddy?" I coo.?

"Fucking fantastic, boy! I wish you were here to lick it all clean for me! Here..I.....CUUUMMM!!"

This thick yellow-white milk erupts out the top of the cleft in his pecs. He lets out a deep, rasping groan, almost a roar. His cum manages to reach his chin and drip off his boarish tusks. ?

It takes him a little bit to uncoil himself and flop free and nude and soaked in semen in his chair. He lies there panting, half grinning at me. I've cum again myself, probably about the same time he did. ?

"Think you got another load in that little pistol of yours, boy?"?

I huff. Then snicker. "You liked my cum shots that much, huh?"?

Troy belts out a deep laugh which makes his pecs jiggle. "I'm just letting you get your money's worth, kiddo. You paid top dollar for me! I aim to please!"?

I lean back toward the screen. "Show me that ass again."?

He raises his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth quirk up. "Oh I'll show you my ass, boy." ?

He slips back off his chair, then comes close to the camera, turns around, and flares out his legs at a steep angle, so that his ass cheeks catch the overhead light and gleam like a pair of hills. He flexes his glutes. They concave inward, shadows pooling. Then he grabs his ass cheeks and stretches them open so I can see down his crack to where the sunburst of his soft pink anus waits. ?

"You kissing the screen, yet?"?

I giggle. "I was earlier, actually!"?

"No shit! When?"?

"When you were ruining your webcam with your pre."?

"Ohhh, so you're an oral boy, huh?"?

I blush. "Actually...I really love your ass more."?

He backs up so I can take in its full beauty again, slowly smearing a meaty hand over his right cheek. "Yeah? You fantasize about this thing?"?

I grin. "I'd love to mash my mouth into it. Just...I dunno...chew on that rock hard ass flesh."?

"How about if I just sat on your fucking slutty face?"?

"Mm, yeah, thought about that before, too."

He chuckles and gives his right cheek a few slow, firm slaps. He swings his arms upward in a rear double bicep. I watch his back crumple like used bed sheets into a landscape of knotted mountains and glittering, sweaty valleys.

"Back's actually kinda stiff," Troy mutters. "Wish I had a hot little boy here to rub it down for me."

"Mmmm...Troy," I moan out.

Troy leaves the view for a moment. When he comes back, he's pouring posing oil into his palm.

"You got a job, boy?"

"No, Daddy."

He treats me to a slow close up of his bulging arm, close enough that I can map out the snaking river of the vein running along its peak. His fingers cross over the view and leave the muscle shining.

"You want one?"

The mere suggestion of what he's proposing has me hard again in seconds. When I cum this time, I know it's going to be painful and not produce very much. Troy's impish eyes look at me over the top of his slowly pumping arm. "Well?"

"I....mmnnnh..."

"I'd say that's a yes."

"Oh god...oh Troy..." I lean back in my chair and start pumping my cock furiously with both hands at once, in plain view of the webcam. "I'd LOVE to be your little co-star!"

"Well, you've got thirty minutes left. Why don't we say you are?"

I can only let out this pathetic submissive whine and nod. On the screen, he's busy rubbing oil over his slowly undulating abdominals, stroking them with two hands like a pet. I want to oil up his ass for him. I tell him so. Troy nods to me through the camera with an approving leer. He stands back up and this time reverse sits on his chair with that incredible ass front and center. Somehow, he's flexible enough to drool a heavy dose of oil over the top of his own ass cheeks. He just sits there, slowly flexing his glutes, letting the oil drool naturally down over his creamy hide.

"I'm waiting, boy. Are you gonna rub it in or not?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

He starts to massage his own ass cheeks while I groan out and fantasize about my own hands doing it instead. It would be like oiling up a pair of bowling balls. So smooth, round, and hard. I would even push my fingers up into the moist warmth of his ass crack to make sure he was well oiled from every angle.

"Mmmmm...you're gettin close, aren't you, boy."

"Yes, Daddy!"

"Hang on a sec. Let me get some better lighting for ya."

Troy slips off the chair and reaches over to the curtain covering his window. He pulls it open a little to let the sunlight spill over his nude, oiled body. My heart stops. For a brief moment before the camera's software kicks in to refocus the image on Troy, I catch a glimpse of the view outside. It's a view I recognize.

"Damn, boy! You don't have to hyperventilate!" He laughs. "I know how hot I am." He rolls an oiled up bicep into a flex and smooches it.

"No, no that's not it, Troy! I...you're...I saw outside your window. Troy...we're in the same city!"

Troy pauses, eyeing me. His cocky showman smile fades and he turns around, crouching down toward the webcam.

"You serious?"

"That's Mapleton Road outside your window! I ride the bus to college down it almost every day! I could take a bus and be there in, like, 45 minutes!"

I bite my lip. We're looking at each other. I can see his thoughts racing. Maybe weighing possible legal risks or something. I dare not speak, but my big doe-ish eyes are praying to him. Please, please, pleeeeeaaase say yes!

Troy grabs the edge of the webcam and growls into it. "You got 20 minutes. I don't care how the fuck you get here, boy, but get here!"

I trip and fall in my haste. I don't even bother to sign out of the webcam. I stuff myself into my clothes as I'm fumbling with the front door lock. At the last minute I swear and remember my shoes. I fly down the hall, down the stairs to the ground floor, out the door. How the fuck am I going to get there in less than half the normal time? I stand helpless in the middle of the road, then whip out my phone and look up city taxis. I call all of them. It's a dick move, I know but I don't fucking care!

Spee Dee Cab gets to my apartment with twelve minutes to spare. I dive inside. I start to give him verbal directions. The panther behind the wheel stays calm, but I'm sure he must think I'm some sort of addict about to get a hit. We get stuck behind the 9:15 city bus and I put my head in my hands and groan. I've lost. It's over. I rub my eyes and try not to cry like a little kid.

"So this is Mapleton Road," the cab driver says as he turns onto it. "Where exactly are we going?"

"I....just drop me here," I say with dejection.

He taps the meter. "20.75, please."

I hand over 25 dollars and slip out. I look up and down the street for any houses with lights on or curtains drawn. Well, that doesn't fucking help. I spin frantically in a circle. I put my fists at my sides and fight to stay calm. Just think it through rationally, silly stag. Go back in your mind and remember the view from the window. There was a two story house with red siding, and an elm tree making a huge Y shape just to the left of it. You've seen it countless times from the bus window.

I open my eyes. There it is. I pace along the sidewalk with a half-hard cock nudging down my leg, watching the house as if it might leap up and fly away at any second. There! That's the right angle for the window. Which means....

....I turn around. It could be anyone's house. A single-story of melon-colored stone with a wide shallow roof and a built-in garage. One of those little 19th-century looking street lights just out front. A simple black strip of driveway. Plain green lawn. I see which window it has to be that afforded me the view from Troy's webcam. With my heart ready to split in half, I jog up the steps and tap the doorbell.

There's no answer and I hang my head. My watch says I'm...

"You're ten minutes late, boy."

I almost faint. He's real. He's there, in the doorway, in nothing but some sweat pants. Fuck, he's still got on the posing oil. Troy leans in the doorway, the door cracked open only about a third of the way so my view of him is a single narrow strip.

"Well?" Troy barks. "What've you got to say? You trying to give me blue balls?"

"I...I'm...sorry, Troy."

He yanks me inside by my hair, slams the door, and shoves me back against it. I get a brief glimpse of a spartan living room with only one grey leather couch and no pictures on the walls. "I thought I told you to call me DADDY!"

Then he's got my face in his hands and he's kissing me. Oh sweet Jesus God fuck he's kissing me! Troy Masters....THE Troy Masters is actually shoving his slimy piggy tongue into my mouth. I cave. I cum. I crush myself against him to return it. If I hadn't cum already, I would have. Actually being embraced by a man this big, this muscle-bound, it's indescribable. I can feel the pressure of his pecs, the round thickness of his biceps under my arms, almost digging into my pits. There's too much sensation, too much muscle grinding against me all at once to even process.

He parts and I come up for air, a mighty gasp of it. His panting breath is in my face.

"Wha..what about the money?" I whisper.

"Fuck the money."

Troy rips my shirt off. That's no camera trick with a pre-cut shirt. He really IS that fucking strong! His brutish hands feel slightly calloused as he rubs them admiringly over my hard little chest muscles and smiles down at me, pressing forward to grind that incredible round hard ball of pig meat between his legs against my navel.

"MMmnnnnnnhhhh....Daddy..."

"Nice to meet you, Luvdeer," he rumbles back.

"Fuck me."

He turns me around. He pulls down the back of my pants without even bothering to undo my fly. The top of my pants grinds down a bit against the base of my now-flaccid and very sore cock.

Troy grabs the base of my neck with his fist. I lean into the back of his front door. He's going to fuck me dry. This is really going to hurt. I try to relax myself. I try to prepare, mentally, for the sweet torture to come.

Troy's fat girth presses up to my anus. My ears catch the faintest of wet sticky sounds, maybe his foreskin pushing back off of his head. The pressure grows. I bite my lip. I squeeze my eyes shut. Slowly, slowly, my ass stretches out so wonderfully fucking deliciously GLORIOUSLY wiiiiiide.

"Nnnnnnggggahhhhh!!!!!!" I almost howl. Tears fall from my squeezed eyes. There's not pain. None at all. Somehow, Troy's managed to push into me without hurting me.

"Boy," Troy's voice has a tone to it I'm not sure about.

"Daddy?"

"You've been training yourself back here, haven't you?"

I rest my forehead against the white wood of the front door and nod. I tremble as Troy Masters hugs me from behind. So much thick muscle and hair smothering down against my back. Arms like two bulging anacondas squeezing me at the same time around my chest.

"I love it," he whispers in my ear.

I keen for him. I rock my hips back against his shaft. He doesn't delay any longer. He fucks me. Either he's an awesome actor or he really does want me. No one drives his drooling soda can shaft up into your body that eagerly, that quickly, unless he honestly wants you.

Almost immediately he starts to sweat, and my back becomes lubed up with it. My breath is reduced to quick snorts from my dainty black nostrils. They form a lovely duet with his deep bestial base piggy grunts.

"Harder," I hiss.

I'm shoved bodily up flat to the door, which starts to shudder with the rhythm of his humping. Seriously, if anyone were to walk by outside on the street, I know they'd hear the door's latch rattling...rattling...rattling...and I can't contain myself, so they wouldn't have to get very close to know exactly what was going on.

Troy's nails dig into my chest. I manage to lower my head to kiss his knuckles in a display of devotion. He's positively oinking now. It's just a lewd, dirty sound. It's always driven me crazy, and despite my cock being sandwiched up against a slab of cold polished and varnished wood, I'm still losing my mind.

"Ohhh boy.....oh you ready?" he whispers, so sleazy, so utterly low.

"Please....please...please..." I start to chant in time to his fucks.

They speed up even more. So hard my teeth rattle. He yanks me back against him. Falls backward onto the floor with me on top of him.

Troy fills me like no man ever has. The liquid builds up pressure inside me until I feel like I have to take the worst piss of my life. Some small shard of my brain stays lucid enough to control my hips. I ram my hips back hard over and over on his cock as if I'm trying to bash him off of me.

"JESUS, BOY! FUCK! FUUUUCK!"

I've never heard him like this. Is this the real Troy, I wonder? It's the last thought I have for almost a minute. The pleasure and pain are so immense I swear I must black out for a moment.

When the world makes sense again, Troy's huge veined bulging arms are around me, holding me against him. He's panting softly. Covered in sweat. I'm panting fiercely, tongue out, my cervine body trying its best to bleed off the excess heat.

I rub one hand gently up his rippling forearm. "So. Was I worth seven hundred dollars?"

Troy pinches my nipples as punishment and I yip and writhe, still impaled on his cock. He snickers and then pats my cheek. "Hell of an ass you've got, Luvdeer."

"Actually, my name is-" But his musky sweaty hand over my muzzle stops me.

"Shhh. That doesn't matter, boy."

I nod my understanding. I sit up and start to try and pull myself off his cock. That's when the pain starts. Searing, white hot, burning. Troy puts is hands against my lower back and pushes to help me. I'm in tears again.

"Easy. Eaaasy, there, kiddo! Almost there!" Troy urges.

I hear the pop as I free myself and stagger forward, back against the front door. It put my back to the sweet, cool wood, panting and wiping my eyes clear. Troy comes over and gives me a hug. It's a tender gesture, and I gratefully sink against his hairy muscles.

We just hold each other for a few minutes. Then I step back. Or try to. Something's wrong with my legs. Each time I move them, they barely respond. It's as if I'd done a killer leg day in the gym. And it's centered around my ass.

"Oh, God!" I groan.

Troy looks like the cat who swallowed the canary. I smirk up at him.

"Got your money's worth?" Troy teases.

I play punch his abs and he laughs at my discomfort. I take a few tentative steps in a circle about the room. "Jesus, Troy, I can't walk right!" I'm staggering like an old man.

Troy shakes his head. "You're not going to feel right for the next few days, probably."

I move to sit down on his couch - the only piece of furniture in his front room. Troy holds out a big hand. "I wouldn't, kiddo!"

Too late. I jump back up as if burned. I grip my rump in both hands. I stomp one cloven black hoof and swear a blue streak. Troy sighs and strides over.

"I warned you."

"What am I supposed to do?" I cry, looking up at him. "I can't even wear pants like this!"

Troy shrugs, shoulders rippling. "I....I guess you better stay the night, then."

I blink.

"Oh. No, Troy. That's...you don't have to go that far. I mean, I'll deal with it okay."

Troy isn't smiling, precisely, but his eyes have a kind of glint to them and his voice is gentle, intimate, playful. He hugs us together, cock to cock.

"I want you to stay the night," he repeats, emphasizing the 'want.'

We smooch. "If I do, you're not going to get any sleep, Troy."

Troy grins. We kiss a little harder.

"Wasn't planning on it, boy."