This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
The mare lay flat on the surfboard, a damp rash vest clinging to her torso while her board shorts dried in the warm summer sun. Her red coat glowed faintly with good health, but the sprinkling of salt crystals in her chestnut fur would later need to be washed out, cleansed from her hair so that it would not dry wispy and tangled. It was more than a fair exchange for a day out on the water, however, a smile on her lips while she floated, waiting on the right wave.
Not that one. It had not risen into something rideable, and she pushed off, kicking and paddling with her arms, ducking under it. One moment she was in the open air and the next she was in an underwater world, her eyes open, the shape of the wave moving above her. It was a strange, otherworldly position to find herself in, yet the underwater world cut her off from all other realities on the edge of the Cornish coastline, foam breaking, the ocean flowing around her.
Amethyst smiled. It was, truly, one of the best places to be.
She broke the surface again with a gasp, even though she had not been under the surface of the water for all that long, mane soaked again and clinging to her neck. There was no time, however, to brush it aside as a more rideable wave approached, moments ticking by as the swell grew and grew. Lines of white foam, bubbles driven by the break of the waves, rushed towards the base of the swell as she turned and paddled furiously, her back to it, arms scooping through the water powerfully, forcing the board along in the same direction.
Come on...
There would always be a chance, a small chance, that one would not catch a wave, even when it had been carefully chosen. Yet that was not the case in that instance with Amethyst's board pointed back to the beach, scattered with the brightly coloured summer clothing and hides of furs. She knew some of them that were there, but couldn't identify them from that distance, the wave catching, pushing -- and then lifting her up and along in a moment of rushing weightlessness.
Yes!
It had happened, yet she was not a passive player in the ride as she pressed her palms close to the edge of the board, testing her strength. The fibreglass was waxed and ready as she popped up, pushing off with her arms at the same time as her lower body snapped up under her, hooves catching her weight. Not the easiest move to pull off but possible with the pop of her body, quick and decisive.
And then she was up and riding the wave, cutting across the face as she directed the board, a wild cry breaking her lips as she struck through. It was hers and no one else's, other surfers drifting aside, though she could more than easily carve a winding path through them if she so chose. They were not coming for the same ride as her, however, as she whipped the board at the peak of the wave, cresting with white water.
Alas, even if the swell was a good four or five foot out there, it was not the kind that could be found in the tropics and broke into white water too soon. Yet that was even more intoxicating, in a way, pushing on her with the pounding force of a hundred white horses, all ablaze in a charge for the shoreline. The froth and foam of the blistering white water leapt and cavorted around her as she let its strength carry her onward, the beach beckoning, shallower water playing with the underside of her board.
Too soon, the wave lost strength, fading, weakening, until it dropped her off, rushing by without any energy left to carry her. It may have swept up further on the shore, leaving another tide mark on the beach, but it would return to the ocean again, all the same, flowing back, softening into the entirety of it that could not so easily be forgotten.
Salt lingered on her lips as she hopped off the board with a splash, wet through with the ankle bad keeping her connected to the board in case of any unscheduled dismounts from the ride. With thirst clawing at her throat, she headed to shore, the board tucked up under her arm, a heavy load to carry but not so when she had it balanced just right. Amethyst chuckled faintly to herself, sweeping her forelock back from her eyes so that she could see a little better. The only problem with carrying a longboard, of course, was turning quickly. She'd taken out more than one small child with inattention before and probably would again.
"Hey, hun."
Razak sat up, setting his e-reader aside, the screen adjusted to be seen more easily in bright sunshine. The blue-furred wolf, not being one for the water, was shirtless, alluringly so, and relaxed in the warm bath of the sunshine caressing his fur, laziness ringing through every muscle in his body, despite the activity of others around him. Although the beach was not the busiest around, it still attracted a fair number of tourists off the coast of Cornwall and that's exactly what they were on holiday too -- tourists looking for their own kind of break from reality, the grind and drudgery of "real life".
Maybe more furs in the world would be happier if they weren't constantly looking for an escape.
Grabbing a drink from the cool box, the mare threw it back, glugging thirstily, suddenly so desperate for it that she couldn't get it all down her throat quickly enough. Funny how things like that worked, so keen to be out on the water for so long and then forgetting to take care of her basic needs despite thinking vaguely about them. But the ocean was not something that, all so often, she got to enjoy.
"Phew!" She sighed, breathing a little more easily with her thirst quenched. "The waves are great out there. You've really got to come out and join me sometime."
But the wolf knew that she was joking, slouching back, sunglasses on, the purple of his hair fluffed up between his ears from the sea and the sand. Although the white of his stomach was on show, topless and comfortable, his thicker fur did make staying out in the sun for too long a little more difficult than it was for her.
"You always say that, but you know it's not happening."
She laughed, shaking her head.