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.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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He was a stud and Devon knew just why he was on his knees before his father, moaning as he caressed James' hot prick. The coloured bay and white stallion, a skewbald in common terms, rippled with just the right amount of muscle, though he should not have been grinding and teasing his cock over his son's muzzle. No... No, there was a wife back home, not where he was visiting his son, but the nature of their relationship could not be disclosed not to anyone.
Devon groaned, playing his broad, fleshy tongue across the head of James' cock, the smooth length of grey flesh lightly wrinkled even as it remained plump. The medial ring, even though he had one of his own, was one of his favourite parts to scoop his tongue over and past, dipping his tongue into his father's sheath. He whimpered. How could such a thing be so soft and pliable, the kind of thing that made him hunger for his father in that special way time after time again?
His legs were apart, boasting a black and white piebald coat, his face white with a pink nose, nostrils quivering. He was lighter and more delicate than his father, in his early twenties, but neither of them cared about such things. It was for them, that moment and time together, lust rising, grinding against one another, the spring of Devon's cock throbbing something that was not for him.