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.
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Spotted Firsts
Aryn sat on the doorstep to the mansion, whole body quivering as he shook his head vehemently, unwilling to take a single step further into the unknown. Music pulsed from within, a vibrating techno beat designed to get the paws moving. He mewled. No, no and no again for good measure. It was a done deal: he would not go in. No one could make him. The feral white King cheetah would turn around and go home, forgetting that he had ever been dragged to a party. Why had he even allowed himself to be persuaded in the first place? Why had he cleaned his black spots so meticulously? That little mark on his shoulder that he was usually so proud of, his cute identifier? He should not have bothered in the first place.
He licked his shoulder and looked up at his anthro companion, towering over him. The two-legged mountain lion paused, paces ahead, and glanced back, long tail swishing slowly from side to side, the tip dusted with powdery black.
"Aryn? What's wrong?"
He turned, paws shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. Though he was dressed comfortably for the summer heat, his smart casual attire denoted the type of party they were attending, or at least attempting to attend. Panting, Aryn dropped his head to the ground and growled, rubbing his face against his paws. Tibby would understand, he was sure he would. They had known each other for so long that surely the other feline would understand what a terrible mistake the party had been already. Tibby could go in without him, he would not mind.
The cougar frowned and folded his arms across his chest.
"Aryn." His voice was weary, sharp at the edges. "This is not the time. You wanted to come, damn it! You said so yourself!"
The cheetah flopped on the step, splayed out apologetically on his side, creamy belly on show. Tibby sighed and pressed his fingers between his eyes, massaging the brown fur in small circles. What a farce...
"All right...you win." He held up his paws in defeat, tail drooping. "Let's go home."
Padding back down the steps, Tibby made as if to return to the car, only halting when realising that Aryn was not beside him as expected. The cheetah sat upon his haunches, tail flicking as he looked from left to right, indecision rife in his eyes. He eyed the party and caught Tibby's eye, breath coming in anxious pants as his jaw hung slightly agape in testament to his nerves.
"Changed your mind again?"
Tibby scratched behind his ear for something to do, a note of exasperation entering his tone, blue eyes rolling. He stomped to the cheetah's side like a sulky kitten, tail curling against his legs. Catching a stone on the toe of his boot, he sent it skittering across the flagstones - some rare, coloured rock that neither of them could place - and Aryn stared at it, rounded ears slanting down to his skull. Tibby muttered under his breath about cats never knowing whether they were coming or going, momentarily forgetting that he too was of the feline persuasion, petting Aryn on the head with an absent minded paw. The cheetah looked up hopefully and licked the back of his friend's hand; the cougar's eyes softened.
"Come on then," Tibby grumbled. "You're lucky I owe you."
Aryn purred and rubbed the full length of his body against the cougar's legs, vibrations travelling through him into the anthro. The cougar laughed as he was playfully mauled with affection, allowing the cheetah to head-butt his thigh and rub the scent glands on his face into his jeans, purrs intensifying.
"Oh, get off, you..." Tibby feigned a look of disgust, though he could not conceal the smile tugging at his lips. "You've got drool on me! What are the ladies going to think if you're slobbering on me, hm?"
Aryn tilted his head, eyes twinkling as if to say that the slobber would not be a problem with the ladies at all: he knew Tibby and his so called 'luck' with the ladies. The cougar spent most nights alone despite his bravado. Some males were all talk and no action, not that Aryn could talk. He didn't get any action at all. He'd rather sit quietly at home, take a break from the chaos. Ladies did not hold his attention.
Swallowing hard, Aryn followed his companion into the party, legs bent to keep his body lower to the ground than he would naturally hold himself, eyes ever watchful and darting about the throng of people. For a moment, he regretted his decision to enter the large main room - the entrance hall - and considered turning tail, but Tibby blocked his path. The cougar shook his head with his lips set into that firm line that made Aryn's stomach plummet.
"Nuh-uh, not this time," Tibby chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't you think I've known you long enough to know all your tricks by now?"
Aryn chuffed and showed him his back. He did not need the silly cat to accompany him to a party! He was not going to run. Well, he did not want to flee all that much. He was not predictable.
The cat did not reply. Aryn leapt and spun around. Where was Tibby? The cat had gone on without him and he dashed to catch up, heart pounding in his chest. The music was harsh upon his ears and he growled, pausing to paw at his head. Why was it so loud? He wondered if the other anthros - so many different furs! Where had they all come from? - cared for the noise at all. Though, with their seeming current state of inebriation, it looked to be that they needed the music to be louder simply so that they could enjoy it.
Aryn licked his lips. Furries were such strange creatures, those of the general kind who went to parties and socialised and all that jazz. He spotted a feral wolf through the crowd and trotted to meet him, purple eyes bright in anticipation. The wolf, however, swayed upon his feet, muzzle drooping down to the ground as his tongue lolled out happily. Aryn backed away, whining. The wolf was in as bad a state as the two-leggers! He turned in a circle, scanning the main room, which was nothing more than a forest of legs, for anyone or anything that might soothe his frazzled mind.
"Oh, a feral! How cute!"
Aryn stiffened, tail fluffing up like the branch of a pine tree. A floppy eared golden dog pointed at him, tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. A small bark burst from her muzzle in what Aryn could only assume was excitement and she clasped her paws to her chest, dancing from hind paw to paw - well, the best she could in a staggeringly dangerous pair of heels - as if unable to contain her joy. Her eyes were wide and childlike, belaying her age. She was not as mature as some female furs that Aryn had met (under duress, he would hasten to add).
"Look! Come here!" She yelled to someone that Aryn could not see, gesturing wildly with her arms flailing.
She crouched down and scooted closer to Aryn, arm stuck straight in front of her body, an invitation for him to come closer that he would not accept. The cheetah stood as still as a statue, frozen in place. What was he to do? Flee? Tibby would laugh at him if he ran. Aryn rumbled a growl, warning the approaching canine back, but he may as well have been a kitten mewling for his mother's milk for all the good it did.
The dog's tongue poked out the corner of her mouth as she brought her paw down with greater force than intended upon the cheetah's head. He flinched and tried to step away but there was already another female fur behind him, blocking his path - a black feline running her paws through his fur with a domestic purr of delight.
"Oh, he's so soft..." She hiccupped and swayed. "Is he tame?"
Aryn snorted and shook himself, stray bits of fur flying off in all directions. Tame? What did they think he was - some kind of pet? Paws attacked him from all sides and he hunkered down to the ground, tail lashing. The petting felt nice from some of them, he could not lie, but the drunken paws were more akin to gropes than gentle strokes and he grunted in pain, eyes closing against the bright lights of the party. He wished he was home.
He rolled over on to his back, paws held up against his body in defence and compliance. A show of submissiveness encouraged most other felines of his kind to back off, demonstrate that he was no threat to him, but they took it as invitation to caress his belly. Far more paws than he was comfortable with scratched through his fur and he cried out, twisting as long nails hit ticklish spots. Caught vulnerable, he could not roll to his feet without sinking his claws into the fur and flesh and he hesitated, body quivering.
"Hey..."
The first canine snickered, pulling the strap of her pink top back up over her shoulder with a paw that still clutched a half-empty, red cup. She ran the pads of her fingers over his paws and giggled as Aryn chirped, wriggling his toes. It tickled! The feral slunk back down against the floor and waved his paws in the air. The dog took one of his hinds in each of her paws, rubbing and tickling over the pads and between the toes as he chuffed and squirmed. Oh, that was much better than silly gropes and pushes and squeezes! Why couldn't they have just rubbed his paws in the first place?
Chirps and purrs burst from him in a cacophony that may have been more suited to a bird of paradise than a feline. Another anthro - he did not see which, being so preoccupied - grasped his forepaws, pressing her thumb between each toe until he near melted into the ground. The golden canine's gaze travelled down his body and her smirk grew, maliciously wide. Unknown to him, his cock swelled, pushing from its sheath and drooling a clear string of pre cum on to his stomach, marking his fur. The paw rubs touched a particularly sensitive spot and Aryn jerked, a spurt of pre cum shooting from his cock so swiftly that only the keenest eye could have caught the motion. And one did.
"Look there... I think our little friend likes this!"
Aryn looked down the length of his body towards his tail and flinched, horrified. If his mind had not enjoyed the petting, he certainly could not say the same for his body! His pink cock was fully engorged, showing his masculinity to the world at large! The cheetah yowled.
