FSE

Furry search engine

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I jumped at the sound of lightning cracking outside as I put on my overcoat. As soon as the last rumbling echos had died down, they were quickly followed by the pat-pat sound of heavy raindrops hitting the pavement outside. Warily, I opened the door, while fishing the keys out of my pocket to lock up after myself. The sky just to the southwest was black as pitch. Not dark, or cloudy, or overcast; black. From the safety of the doorframe, I shot the clouds a withering glare and stepped into the rain. No amount of water from above would keep me at work for even a minute longer, I valued what little free time I got more than that.

At first, this ‘opportunity’, as my manager had framed it, had sounded kind of fun. Go and work at the US site for 6 months, with housing and travel paid for by the company. If I had known that I would be stuck only with the most miserable jobs in this place, I would have stayed on my own side of the Atlantic. At least it would look good on my CV to impress future employers with, and maybe even negotiate a higher salary.

Drawing the hood over my head, in a fruitless attempt to keep at least some of the water off, I walked on while the world was swallowed by darkness. The streets were practically deserted, nobody in their right mind would go outside if they didn’t have a pressing reason. This wasn’t some grand city or anything. Just a sleepy midwest town in bumfuck nowhere, whose main attractions were the second largest cornfield in the world and a small shop that sold things made of straw.

I quickly risked checking my phone, just to make sure there wasn’t a tornado warning, but just as I was putting it away, a shifting, squirming movement at the very corner of my vision made me turn my head. There, between a dumpster and an old couch in a side alley, about 15 meters away, sat a brown and white furred dragon, sticking out like a sore thumb against the red brickwork behind him. They were currently trying to shelter beneath a fire escape, not that it did much good with the deluge coming from above.

I stopped dead and stared dumbly at them. Seeing a dragon here wasn’t unheard of, though furred dragons like him preferred the colder regions in the north. The warmer, more humid climate typically not agreeing with them. For obvious reasons.

The dragon had wedged itself in between the two objects and curled just about as small as they could, which looked utterly ridiculous for a being that regularly hunted elk and moose in its native habitat. I had no idea why they were out in this weather, or doing this far south for that matter.

A thunderclap reached us, and the dragon flinched badly, jarring the dumpster away from the wall; then they looked at me. Their eyes were wide though I couldn’t tell whether from darkness or fear. Fearing they had crashed, I swept my gaze over their huddled form. No visible wounds, no blood, wings pressed flat, but neatly folded; not held at an awkward angle that would suggest a break.

Hesitantly, I approached. “Uhh, hey… Are you alright?” I called, to no response. I cleared my throat and tried again, louder this time, “Is everything alright? Do you need help?” I got no response, even though they must have heard me, they just continued to curl, now tucking their head beneath their wing.

Slowly I approached them, talking in a firm, calm voice , “It’s all good. No need to be scared. The lightning won’t hurt you, it’s all way above us.” A muffled, quiet, somewhat mulish, “Leave me alone!” reached my ears in response. I halted, confused, then persisted. “Uhh…Just wanted to make sure you were alright. Were you caught out in the weather? Did the storm force you down?” I asked him, that baritone voice belonged to a male.

That got a response, their head came out from under their wing, the fear replaced with an indignant stare. “No, of course not. Do you take me for some fledgeling? I was… I just wanted to get out of the rain! I am just as capable of storm flying as any other dragon. I’m not afraid.” Lightning arced across the sky, directly above us and thunder cracked through the air, making him jump like a surprised cat, then cower down again. Immediately giving the lie to his claim.

I looked at him dubiously. “Yeah, sure, I didn’t mean any offence,” I answered, making no effort to hide the doubt in my voice. I took a look at his form once more. His body was a curious mix of lean streamlining, combined with the squat roundness of animals well adapted to the cold. The fur on his back and sides, and the feathers on his wings, were beautifully marbled with light and dark brown tones, dotted with white accents. While his underside and legs were a clean, pure white. The belly and chest was concave and lean, while his legs and paws had the “meatyness” and solid look of a big cat, although without the retractable claws. His long tail was curled about him, the lashing tip being a pure, unbroken black.

He didn’t wear any clothes, in contrast to the scaled varieties of dragons which occasionally did, merely a sort of lightweight harness. A collection of camo coloured, streamlined pouches and bags hung off it, the largest of which was a long, narrow sort of backpack, which sat right between his wings. His form was beautiful, all sleek muscle, soft, though admittedly, soaked fur and gentle lines. The pounding rain and my own saturated jacket all but forgotten in my reverie.

“First you insult me and then you stare at me like you want to fuck me?” His affronted voice broke my analysis, making me jolt, and drawing my gaze back to his amber eyes. The stranger probably had no idea how close to the truth he had come.

I smiled apologetically, hoping that none of the startled guilt I felt showed through it, praying that I wasn’t flushed beet red. “Nah, sorry. I’ve just never seen an arctic dragon.” I responded lamely. “Tell you what, I’ll make it up to you. I live basically around the corner, if you want you can wait out the storm there and get dry before you move on,” I continued in a fit of inspiration. Sheltering him in my rented flat would both get him out of the rain, and give me some one on one time with a dragon. “I just did laundry, I have the towels to spare,” was how I concluded my offer, with a cheeky grin on my face.

He looked at me, clearly torn, though the next flash and boom overhead, which triggered another flinch, seemed to decide him. “Alright,” he said slowly, hesitantly, “but you’re not some psycho who is going to tie me up and try to keep me as his pet or something, right?”

I stared at him dumbly, wondering how he thought I would overpower a well armed predator the size of a large stag. Thankfully, the same thing seemed to have occurred to him, and he simply mumbled something that sounded like, “Just checking,” before getting up and trotting to my side.

Now standing next to me, I could appreciate just how big he was. His withers were at about the same height as the middle of my ribcage, while his head was at the same height as mine (at least when he was holding it in an attentive neutral position, as I assumed he was currently). “Come on, it’s not far,” I said, now slightly bemused.

Rounding the block and coming to the apartment complex where I was renting a flat, I led him into the carport, stepping into the very welcome shelter. The rain hadn’t lessened in the slightest. I took off my jacket which, despite the rain, had done an admirable job of keeping my lower layers dry. “Hey, if you could wait here I second, I’ll run inside and get so-” That’s how far I got, before I got a face full of spray, as he started to violently shake the water out of his fur.

I sputtered and took a moment to wipe the water from my eyes. “You couldn’t have waited with that until I was clear?” I asked angrily, just shy of shouting. Having finally cleared the last of the bothersome liquid after a second or two, I looked squarely at him, only to be greeted by a bare patch of concrete where the dragon had stood. Confusedly, I looked around.

The culprit had taken shelter behind the parked SUV of one of the other tenants, and was warily eyeing me from the safety of his shelter. This struck me dumb once again. The idea that this massive, muscular, intelligent creature, was for some reason AFRAID of me, to the point of fleeing merely because I raised my voice, simply didn’t compute in my head.

“Sorry for yelling. But you could have waited dude,” I grumbled, somewhere between annoyance and embarrassed confusion, causing the offender to trot out from behind the car and wordlessly produce a reasonably dry cloth from one of his bags. After drying off the worst of the water, with it, I handed it back, and gave him a critical look. “At least you’re not dripping quite as much now. Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” the dragon in front of me mumbled, “I should have paid more attention. I just… didn’t think?” He said, while looking at me from below with large, liquid amber eyes. I didn’t know why dragons, who had never been domesticated, had a puppy stare, but I couldn’t deny that it was effective.

“It’s fine,” I said, looking away, “These clothes needed a wash anyway.” After we made our way inside, I fetched him a couple of large towels to rub the rest of the moisture from his fur. Then I cranked the humidity control to dry, and quickly changed into dry clothes. Realizing that I had never gotten my visitor's name, I said, “I’m Tobi by the way.”

He craned his head around, from where he was rubbing his hindpaws dry, with an undecided look on his face. “Tiriganiaq,” he said finally, after a few seconds. Thunder rolled over the house again, but now that he was under cover, it didn’t seem to bother the dragon much anymore. Only the now semi-dry hairs on his back raised slightly. I briefly wondered why thunderstorms were so frightening to him, but resolved to just ask when I had gotten to know him better.

“Ah,” I said, while plopping down on the couch and drying my own hair, already doubting my ability to reproduce the name. “That sounds really nice,” I continued awkwardly, “What brings you down here? Work? Or are you a tourist?”

The dragon paused in drying his tail, and looked at me while cocking his head and angling his ears forwards, as if he was trying to listen better. “You have just the slightest hint of an accent, Germanic I would say. Probably Dutch or German, although Scandinavian languages might also be possible. Where are you from?” he countered, clearly avoiding my question, his gaze not quite meeting my eyes.

I was taken aback by his astuteness. Few people noticed my accent, and even fewer were able to place it this well. “No, I am originally from Germany. I came here on a 6 month worker exchange program,” I answered simply. “I still have about 4 months and a bit left, then it’s back home for me.”

His ears perked just a tiny bit higher at that. “Oh cool, my sister has been learning german these last few years , although she never got a chance to have a face to face conversation with a native speaker. I’m almost regretting that I chose Spanish instead now, but as a language it’s just so much more useful than German. And easier to learn, the way you guys use articles is just so unnecessarily convoluted and nonsensical. Uhhh, no offense of course.”

At his insensitive remark, his perked ears angled away and folded down, while he ducked his head just barely enough to be perceptible. I had to give it my all to not coo with glee at the cuteness of it. I chuckled, “Don’t worry. I am plenty aware of the flaws of my mother tongue. But you said your sister actually learned it? I don’t imagine it would be very useful to her here?”

“No, probably not. She’s up in Manitoba, with the rest of the clan. We don’t really get a whole lot of outside visitors…” he trailed off, his ears now fully drooping, and even though he was still looking directly at me, he didn’t quite seem to see me.

Hoping to snap him out of whatever was going through his head, I asked, “You never said what you were doing down here. I do not mean to pry, your business is yours of course, but I’m curious. It’s not every day you meet a dragon afterall.”

Tiriganiaq let out a sigh and said nothing, but began to strip off his harness with surprising dexterity. It was a kind of belt and suspenders contraption. A broad strap running around his waist, connected to a long band which ran up his spine, and connected to a sort of collar. From this, two smaller bands connected back to the main ‘belt’ with clasps. Three more straps ran to his hind legs and tail, anchoring it there.

To remove those, he sat back on his haunches, and unhooked the belly straps with his right front paw, which featured a rather prominent thumb. Famously, dragons and their ancestors were the only species apart from primates and some bears to evolve functional, opposeable ones. Below where he was fumbling though, I saw something else; a plump sheath with two large gonads, which produced a falling sensation in my belly. Realising that I was rudely staring again, and at his genitals no less, I quickly looked away. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have noticed.

While he was messily depositing his bags on the kitchen tiles, he suddenly spoke again. “Ah, hell. I might as well tell you, what difference does it make. I’m an outcast, or maybe a runaway, I’m not sure. That depends on how the clan votes,” he suddenly broke the silence, drawing my gaze back to his amber eyes. “I… well, I committed a little indiscretion, which resulted in a challenge, which I fled from,” he explained, with an almost defiant look in his eyes.

I was taken aback, and very concerned suddenly. “What do you mean by ‘indescretion’?” I asked warily, “You’re not a criminal or anything, are you?”

“No, no, nothing so dramatic. I had a, let’s call it daillance, with another clan member's mate. It wasn’t anything serious, just some fooling around with him, while his mate‘waited out her heat, but she took it badly. In traditional clan law, something like this is settled with a challenge for the mateship of the dragon in question between their suitors. At least it’s done this way if the third dragon doesn’t join in the mateship. And, well…” he looked away and swallowed, “I chickened out. I fled the night before the duel. I’m a dishonorable coward.”

I said nothing, unsure how to respond, until he looked back at me and continued. “That was four days ago. I’ve been flying pretty much nonstop since then.” A look of disgust washed over his face. “I don’t even know where I’m going. No clan will tolerate me once they learn what happened, and I can’t support myself on my own. Not long term. And I know only how to fly and hunt. I don’t have the skills or knowledge to live among humans and get a real job like some do…” At the end his voice was wavering, deeply emotional, and hung his head with a defeated sigh.

I swallowed past the awkwardness of his confession. “Well, I don’t know your clan’s customs or laws, but making people actually fight over something like this is kind of crazy in my opinion. You can stay the night. And we can look at this together tomorrow if you want to. I can’t promise that I can do anything, but maybe it’s not quite as bleak as it looks right now.”

He looked up and sniffed loudly. “Thank you. I… I hate to ask, but could you also spare a bite to eat? I haven’t had anything since I left, and it’s been a long way.”

“Of course, I’m hardly going to starve my house guest,” I answered, getting up and walking towards my kitchen to check what I had. “Just out of curiosity, how does your… how do dragon clans survive, if you don’t have a job?” I asked over my shoulder.

“We hunt for food and sell the hides, mostly. Sometimes we drag or carry heavy stuff to inaccessible locations for loggers and the like, but I was never very useful for that, not being as big or strong as the others,” Tiriganiaq mused. “In the past, we used to live very closely with the Inuit. We’d keep them safe from polar bears and hunt together with them, in exchange for crafted items and assistance in building shelters. There is still some of that, but the old ways waned over the years.”

I simply let him talk, while I set a pot of water on the stove, and began to dice some bacon and chicken thighs. When the flow of words stopped, however, I looked back at him and saw a pained expression on his face. Quickly, I tried to distract him.

‘You speak english really well, how did you learn that?” from the look of outrage on his face, I saw that I had succeeded in distracting him, if not in the way I had meant to.

“What do you mean? I’m some unlettered barbarian, just because I walk on four legs instead of two?” he snorted. “We attend school as hatchlings just the same as you. And learning languages in particular is considered a sacred duty.”

Seizing upon that, I quickly made to distract him from my distraction, “Oh? Sacred how? And why?”

“Legend has it that when dragons first met humans. We didn’t have a language of our own, even though we were intelligent. The humans that settled near us taught us theirs. It’s known as the “First Gift” in our folklore, and we honour it by learning as many languages as we can.”

With that, he fell into a brooding silence. I decided to leave him be for now and focus on preparing the meal.

---

Two kilograms of (dry!) pasta, three jars of tomato sauce, and just about every scrap of meat in my fridge later. I was sitting back on the couch with a much calmer arctic dragon beside me, lying on his flank with his head tucked against his neck. I could tell he still wasn’t completely at ease, but the storm having passed outside and the meal seemed to have done a great deal to soothe him.

“Out of curiosity, are there really still people holding dragons as pets?” I broached the subject that had occupied my thoughts since he had first brought it up out in the rain. Obviously, I knew the history. Throughout the ages, the wealthy and powerful had hunted dragons for sport, or kept living ones as something between prisoners and cherished pets. Often against the expressed wishes of the dragon, which the histories reflect as them refusing food, or killing handlers and sometimes their “owners”.

“Not officially. The practice was made illegal during the first world war, when the British royal family released theirs, in response to some of us fighting alongside Canadian troops on the continent. After the war, most other developed nations quickly followed suit,” he answered in a conversational tone. “Still, there have been incidents. Hatchlings have gone missing from other clans; sometimes even young adult dragons…” he trailed off and I wondered if any had been like him, having left for one reason or another.

“Usually it’s blamed on wild predators, or the clans just say that to not admit they have dragons leaving voluntarily. Still, I think we’re kidding ourselves if we discount the notion entirely; some of the rich and famous would certainly not shy away from kidnapping and murder if this meant more status. Whether for a pet or a trophy.” he mused, before falling back into silence.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, raising his head, and, to my surprise, rubbed his cheek against my chest, “for the food and everything. And sorry for having accused you unjustly.” The contact lingered for a second, and, for the first time, I felt his fur against my skin, when his brow rubbed against my neck. It was glorious, firm, and dense, yet flexible and silky to the touch. I almost raised my hand to pet the sleek neck, but he withdrew before I could fully make up my mind. I looked down at him, trying my best to keep from jittering while my heart pounded in my chest.

Dragons just drove me wild. I don’t know why, and I don’t care. They just do. Relationships between them and humans weren’t illegal or anything. Just very, very uncommon, due to their rarity, the close knit clans they lived in and their preference for extreme climates.

I had no idea whether Tiriganiaq would even be interested in a human. Or how he felt about me in particular, apart from the just expressed gratitude.

I faked a yawn, I knew that if I stayed sitting this close to him, I would inevitably embarrass myself and make him uncomfortable. “I’ll think I’ll have a shower and turn in for the night. It’s been a bit of a long week for me. Bathroom is the second door on the right, TV remote is on the table, snacks are in the kitchen; leftmost cupboard. Just leave some for me.”

The ravenous beast raised his head, his amber eyes sparkling in the light. “Have a good night then,” he said, “And thank you again for taking me in like this.”

“Don’t mention it, you’re very welcome,” I replied and, with difficulty, resisted the urge to pat his flank to feel that fur under my fingers.

After a quick shower, I was finally in the privacy of my bedroom, with a thick wall and a hallway separating me from Tiriganiaq, and finally able to deal with what he was unknowingly doing to me.

I grabbed my favourite toy, modeled after a dragon’s cock with arrow shaped ridges on the bottom and a large knot at it’s base, along with some lube and condoms from the dresser, and spread a towel on the bed. Lying down on my side, I rolled a condom over the toy in my hand and lubed myself up.

Setting the tip against my pucker, I began to gently and slowly work it in. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to have Tiriganiaq lie behind me and slowly take me instead. A gentle paw on my hip, holding me in place, another in front of my chest, supporting my upper body, his warm breath washing over my hair.

Having gotten over the initial burn and stretch, I slowly increased the pressure, until I had nearly the entire toy inside me, just the knot remaining outside. I gently worked it back and forth, imagining soft fur brushing along my back. Small, quiet grunts and moans escaped my mouth as the ridges massaged my prostate, my own neglected penis hard enough to dent steel.

Stopping my simulated thrusts, I pushed the synthetic cock back in until the knot pressed against my ring, and took a deep breath. Letting every muscle in my body go slack, I slowly pushed it in. In my eagerness, I seized down on it twice and had to start over, but finally, on the third try, I passed the widest point and it slid in. The sudden pressure on my prostate made me grunt out loud and I froze, fervently listening for the fall of pawpads outside. When I heard nothing for a few seconds, I relaxed and rolled onto my back.

“Right where I want you to be,” I said quietly, stroking the small bulge the toy made in my belly, shuddering at the sensation, before wrapping my slender fingers around my neglected cock. Propping my knees up, and leaning further back, I closed my eyes again and now imagined him hunched over me, knotted deeply inside me, and helping me finish with his paw. “Oh Tiri… yes!” I whispered.

When I had reached my peak, I opened my eyes again, and spotted a dark figure sitting in the doorway, framed by the warm glow falling in from the hallway. I immediately regretted leaving the bed in the orientation it had been when I first arrived, with the footend facing the doorway. Tiriganiaq had the perfect shot of my genitals and stuffed behind, framed by my propped up legs.

With a sudden jerk, and a grunt at the feeling of getting my bowels rearranged by the toy in my behind, I pulled the covers over myself, heedless of the gunk they would now be covered in. I tried to say ‘What are you doing here?!’, but instead only produced an unintelligible croak.

A low chuckle reached my ears, then a mirthful, “You’re a lot less subtle than you think you are.” He stepped inside and pulled the door closed with his tail. “You also underestimate how good my ears and nose are.”

He closed the distance to the bed in a few paces, and then jumped up, his weight depressing the mattress around my still frozen form. I felt like a mouse before a fox.

“I knew you were attracted to me, you smelled rather strongly like it on the couch, but I wouldn’t have thought that you would immediately go and masturbate over me,” he continued. Then he gently grabbed the blanket with one of his frontpaws and, almost tenderly, pulled it away. I did nothing to resist, my mind between primal fear and desperate hope. “It’s really kinda cute… and flattering,” he continued, “even if it’s a bit weird.”

“Well, if you want me, here I am,” he said finally, and sat back on his haunches before me. “I might as well say ‘thanks’ properly.”

“Y-you’re into humans?” I just barely managed to force out beyond the leaden weight in my chest. I could see his full frontside now, his black cock hanging half erect from his downy sheath.

“Yesterday, I would have probably said no, but the fact that you’re so attracted to me, you’ll sneak off to pretend I’m fucking you is kind of endearing. It's hot in a way, to be so desired. Also, I’ve always kinda wanted to try with a smaller partner,” the dragon answered, in a soft, calm tone. “So, I’m willing to try at least,” he finished his explanation, and gave me a toothy grin.

When I neither spoke nor moved, Tiriganiaq came a bit closer. “Why don’t you reach out and touch it?” he asked in an encouraging, caring tone. I did, wrapping my fingers around his shaft, the way I had done with my own just minutes earlier. It felt heavy, warm and solid in my hand. Gently, I wrapped my fingers about it, which prompted a small ‘huff’ from it’s owner. “Good boy,” he praised me in a low rumble, “Go on, get familiar with it.”

He shuffled himself a bit closer, slowly so I wouldn’t lose my grip. His shape was very vaguely like that of a canine, although much more tapered. Small ridges graced its outside, angled to make penetration easy, but with a defined backwards facing ridge. I shuddered from lust at the thought of those stroking over my insides. At the base, just in front of the bunched skin of his sheath, there was a clearly defined but unengorged knot.

I gave the toy inside my ass a clench, imagining what it would feel like to have the real thing in me, my lust amplified by the knowledge that this may become reality before the night was out. Then, something struck me however, the cock I was holding in my hand was smaller than the silicone replica inside me.

“You’re smaller than my toy, actually,” I mused, before tearing my eyes off the object of my desire to look up at him with a guilty look. What greeted me was a look of equal parts offense and hilarity, the two emotions at war over control of his facial expression. Eventually, they seemed to arrive at a ceasefire, and a sardonic grin settled on his snout,

“Who do you go and call small, you puny dicked ape? It’s fine. 8 inches is above average for a dragon! Put that mouth to better use if you’re only going to be insulting, would you?” he continued, still with mock outrage, and gently coaxed me to lie beneath him on my side, propped up on my elbow, face to face with his equipment. A strong smell of animalic musk found its way into my nostrils, but it smelled… clean, almost. Not sweaty or damp in any way.

Tentatively, I gave it a lick on the tip, and a salty, floral taste permeated my mouth. It was good, and I quickly took in his tip, softly sucking and tonguing it. It felt firm and almost silky, twitching at my ministrations. A small bead of pre leaked out, and more of that intoxicating flavour hit my tongue, making me moan in enjoyment.

Tiriganiaq hadn’t been idle either. His smooth pawpads stroked my asscheeks, before gently parting them and tapping on the toy still lodged deep inside me. Making me twitch in turn, as the impacts were transferred to my prostrate.

“It’s good that you’re already nicely stretched and lubed up,” he mused above me. Then, he carefully gripped the base of the toy between his thumb and index digit, and began to slowly ease it out of me. I was surprised with how attentive and careful he was, repeatedly stopping and letting me adjust, whenever I gave signs of discomfort.

All the while, I was busy slickening his own cock with my spit. The ridges I had seen previously compressed readily in one direction, and I discovered when I ran my tongue over them, but would flare and drag when pushed on from the sharply angled side. They also seemed to be incredibly sensitive, based on the deep purring and rumbles of enjoyment coming from above.

Eventually, the dragon had eased the toy out far enough that my colon willingly gave up the last few inches without fuss, and he swiftly pulled it from me.

“Hang on, back off a sec,” he suddenly said in a serious voice, and I scooted back. He swiftly bent over and brought the fake cock to his own genitals, holding them side by side. Then he looked up at me with an incredulous expression; The toy was a solid two inches longer than him.

“What the fuck Tobi?! How did that even fit inside you?” Tiriganiaq exclaimed incredulously, then with a lusty growl, he leapt practically on top of me. “And here I thought this would be awkward fumbling and you won’t even be able to take half of me,” he said, before continuing in an almost loving, purring voice, “Go on, lube me up, and you’ll get the real thing.”

I blushed heavily at his sudden outburst, but enthusiastically complied with his instruction. Grabbing the previously discarded condoms and bottle of lube, I slipped one over him, and applied a generous coating to his tool, paying special attention to those ridges, and his unengorged knot, to enthusiastic growls and whines from above, as I handled his dick.

“There you go,” that baritone voice rumbled above me, “Get it nice and slick, and I’m going to ruin that silicone toy for you, and give you the real deal.”

Once I was done, I looked up at him, “Done. H-How do you want me?” I asked, while rearranging the towel.

“Just get on your hands and knees little one, and relax. I’ll take care of the rest,” came the answer, followed by a gentle prodding with his snout into ribs.

I positioned myself, and gasped when his warm, fluffy bulk settled over me, the exquisitely soft belly fur brushing along my back, and a tiny fraction of his weight settling across my shoulders.

Tiriganiaq craned his neck down, to be able to look at my face, and wrapped one frontpaw around my chest, the pads resting against my sternum. His wings dropped to either side of his body, half folded, with the thick joints resting on the mattress, probably for stability. In a matter of seconds, his warmth filled the space and I became unbelievably snug, wrapped in a cocoon of fur and feathers.

“There we go. I’m going to start now. If it hurts at all, let me know, and I’ll stop, okay?” the dragon said, fixing my gaze with his. Then, he lined himself up, hot pre smearing along my cheek, before his tip found my hole. He shifted for a second to find a good angle, and began to carefully push in.

I came again almost right there on the spot, from the barest of penetration and with no attention to my own genitals at all. The satisfaction of having my years-long fantasy fulfilled almost pushed me over the edge. Instead, I focused on relaxing myself, feeling the initial stretch-burn of something entering me. Tiriganiaq’s cock was warm, very warm, and, thanks to my efforts, slick. It glid in almost effortlessly until a point when the stretch suddenly became too much, and I involuntarily seized up.

Instantly he stopped, and looked down at me with a look of genuine concern in his amber eyes. His paw began to soothingly rub my chest with a thumb, the contact and smoothness welcome. I took a deep breath, exhaled through an open mouth, and relaxed again. The look faded, and Tiriganiaq continued. Now in slow, gentle, forwards and backwards motions, helping my muscles get used to the warmth and the filling presence.

At that point, he began to make contact with my prostrate, drawing little grunts and moans from me. The additional stimulation, directly on the sensitive gland, had my sphincter fluttering, but not clenching, not impeding the pleasure. I could feel myself building to it now. The pressure and pleasure, that heavy, radiating tingling in my lower belly, increasing with every thrust.

Then, suddenly, I felt soft fur kiss the rim of my hole. I had taken him fully. Completely. All of him was inside me. He stilled, letting me get used to it.

I opened my eyes; I hadn’t even noticed that I closed them, being so immersed in the moment. Tiriganiaq was smiling at me. “It’s all in. Now, just stay right where you are and relax for me, can you do that?” he asked with a soft smile, fixing my gaze with his own again. When I nodded, he gently licked along my cheek and said, “Good boy.” The praise sent a shiver down my spine.

He lifted his head and began to build towards thrusting in earnest now. They were still the soft, gentle motions from before, but now there was an edge to them; they got increasingly longer and more insistent.

By this point, my body had just given up the fight to keep him out however. I was open and receptive, and he took advantage of that, sliding more and more of his dick in and out of me.

The ridges I had previously noticed started catching now too, rubbing, almost raking, my insides, increasing the stimulation. It wasn’t painful in the least, contrary to my fear, but it added just the amount of stimulation I needed to reach my peak.

I let out a long, low moan, feeling my muscles seize, clamping down on the draconic cock invading me. The pressure inside me released, and those heavy tingles radiated throughout my entire torso. I felt Tiriganiaq stopping, before he quickly resumed, now with short, pummeling strokes, that drew out the pleasure emanating from my prostate, as my sphincter was fluttering around the invading flesh. A few drops of cum made it out of my own dick, and were soaked into the towel.

“Incredible,” he moaned above me, clearly affected by my being this receptive to him, “I barely start, and you’re already cumming like a girl.” As he said that, I felt a new kind of pleasure building inside me and with a start, and another moan, I realized that it was his knot engorging just inside of my sphincter.

Suddenly, I felt his hot breath wash through my hair. “I’m close too… Do you want me to finish inside?” he asked, followed by soft snuffling and nibbling along my mop of blonde hair.

I didn’t manage any answer, bar vigorous nodding, and felt Tiriganiaq push deeply inside in response, never lifting his snout from my head. Once the knot was too large to remove, he switched to short, almost violent thrusts, which swiftly had his hips jerking erratically, instead of the smooth, gentle movements from before.

Despite the fast tempo, I had somewhat caught myself, and was doing my best to increase the pleasure for the dragon above me, clenching and relaxing on his knot in as much of a rhythm as I was still capable of. This quickly seemed to bear fruit, as a high pitched whine above me heralded the arrival of the dragon's peak. Something clattered behind me, but I didn’t pay it any mind.

I could feel him going rigid around me, tightening in. The frontpaw on my chest clutched me against his own ribs, while his wings swept inwards from where they had been resting on the bed, enveloping me snugly in soft feathers and downy fur. His knot expanded rapidly inside, making me gasp and grunt from the pressure on my prostate.

Then, I felt it. Warm, oh so warm, liquid spilling inside me, settling in my stomach in a glorious feeling of heat and completeness. I closed my eyes in enjoyment, moaning in enjoyment as I shared in his orgasm. I clenched, hoping to prolong the sensations for both of us, drawing out another whine above and another spurt deep inside me.

That elegant, cute snout came back into view, panting slightly now. “That was amazing… You’re…” he panted. ”Hold still,” he instructed, and the paw around my chest tightened again, while his hind legs clamped around my hips. Once he was sure I wouldn’t move, he gently lowered himself, and me by extension, onto our sides. His knot moved a bit inside me, drawing another grunt from my throat at the shifting pressure.

“There we go… You did so well Tobi. I didn’t think you would be able to take all of me, but you did… This… was a lot better than I thought it would be,” he mused contemplatively, before craning down his neck and nuzzling the top of my head.

“You were amazing too, big guy,” I answered, patting the paw still holding on my sternum and pressed my back into his chest, earning a satisfied rumble, while his paws pulled me in closer still. The small of my back resting in the hollow of his belly, his engorged knot still locking us together. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he extended a wing and draped it over me, covering my torso up to my shoulders. An errant hind leg folded over my thighs.

Neither of us spoke for a moment, but I basked in it. To be so snug, so secure, cradled and held with so much gentleness by such a large creature. Slowly, I explored his large front paw with my hand, feeling the joints, the rubbery, smooth pads, the cuticles his talons sprang from, the dextrous thumb on its side. Idly I wondered why a quadruped would evolve those. I felt his heartbeat and breathing against my back, both slowing now that the exertion of the previous minutes was over.

Without saying a word, Tiriganiaq extended and maneuvered his wing over me, the joint reaching my shoulder, and the long flight feathers covering my legs down to my feet. This time, his tail swept around too, completing the embrace, cocooning me in soft fur, gentle pressure and solid presence. His embrace didn’t cover me as well as a blanket would have, but between the soft fur and downy feathers, it was nearly as warm.

Still feeling the warmth of his cum inside me, and the stretching pressure of his knot, I looked up at him. The expression on his snout was pure, tired, gentle contentness. It ignited something in my belly, as if a swarm of butterflies had just taken flight and their wings were gently brushing my insides.

“Would you… Would you like to stay?” I croaked out, stumbling and awkward, something between an offer and begging.

Tiriganiaq didn’t answer, but the look of satisfaction on his face was replaced by one of surprise. And guilt.