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ID
146005
MD5
9e9447e399d72a23a2abacee90f5d9ba
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3072x2048 (8.62 MB)
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PNG
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Rating
Explicit
Score
117
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directed by gridanon
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Description

Would furries even wear clothes?

It is such a pain to try to fix and inpaint things in a realistic gen. Genners like Delkin and insane-birdlover have top-tier realistic styles and I haven't even been able to get anything close. Definitely check them out if you're interested in realistic furry looks.

Tech Talk

This was made using a local install of Reforge for Stable Diffusion using 3WolfMond-LastSDG: https://huggingface.co/Xeno443 . I'd recommend any or all of the 'Mond models, they're all some of the best furry SDXL models.

For the upload Tail Tagger was used to assist in tagging: https://github.com/renfald/tail-tagger . Along with the JPT-3 for AI assisted tags: https://huggingface.co/RedRocket/JTP-3/tree/main/models?not-for-all-audiences=true

AI Story - GAME!

In the cozy den of their shared apartment, nestled in the heart of Furrington City where every resident sported fur, tails, and whiskers, Rex the golden retriever and Whiskers the sleek tabby cat were locked in an intense battle. The room hummed with the electric buzz of their gaming console, the massive flat-screen TV casting flickering glows across their furred faces. Rex, with his broad shoulders and floppy ears, gripped his controller like a lifeline, his tail thumping rhythmically against the worn leather couch. Whiskers, lithe and agile, perched on the edge of his seat, his green eyes narrowed in concentration, tail swishing back and forth like a metronome.

"Ha! Eat laser, you mangy mutt!" Whiskers yowled triumphantly, his claws tapping furiously on the buttons as his spaceship dodged Rex's incoming missiles in their favorite co-op shooter, Galactic Furball Wars. The speakers blasted with explosive booms and zapping sounds, the air thick with the scent of popcorn kernels popped fresh from the microwave—salty, buttery, and slightly burnt at the edges.

Rex barked a laugh, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Oh yeah? Watch this, kitty cat—I'm about to turn your ship into space confetti!" He leaned forward, muscles flexing under his soft golden fur, the faint musk of his excitement mingling with the room's ambient smells of fur conditioner and lingering pizza from lunch.

The door creaked open with a soft whoosh, and in sauntered Vixie, the fiery red vixen with a coat that shimmered like autumn leaves under the dim lamp light. She was utterly naked, her sleek, curvaceous form on full display—pert breasts topped with rosy nipples, hips swaying hypnotically, and her bushy tail curling playfully behind her. The air shifted as she entered, carrying her intoxicating scent: a heady mix of wild berries and feminine musk, warm and inviting, cutting through the boys' game-induced adrenaline like a siren call.

Both males froze mid-button-mash, controllers slipping slightly in their paws. Rex's jaw dropped, his tongue lolling out instinctively, while Whiskers' ears perked straight up, his pupils dilating like saucers.

"Well, well," Vixie purred, her voice a silky melody that sent shivers down their spines. She padded across the carpet on silent paws, her claws retracted, hips rolling with each step. The soft pat-pat of her feet was barely audible over the paused game's humming soundtrack. "Looks like you two are having all the fun without me. Mind if I join the game?"

Without waiting for an answer, she slipped between them on the couch, her bare fur brushing against theirs in a tantalizing tease. Rex felt the heat of her body radiate against his side, her tail flicking to tickle his thigh, while Whiskers inhaled sharply as her shoulder pressed into his, the fine hairs of her coat whispering against his striped fur like velvet.

"Uh, Vixie... what're you—" Rex stammered, his voice husky, but she cut him off with a mischievous grin, her sharp teeth flashing white.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," she cooed, reaching for the pause button on the coffee table remote. The game resumed with a triumphant fanfare, lasers zipping across the screen again. But her paws had other plans. With a sly wink, she slid one hand down to Rex's lap, deft fingers unzipping his jeans with practiced ease. The metallic zip sounded unnaturally loud in the charged air, and out sprang his thick, throbbing cock—big and veiny, the knot at the base already swelling with anticipation, its musky scent blooming like a primal invitation.

Whiskers gasped, his controller nearly forgotten, as Vixie's other hand mirrored the action on him. She tugged down his sweatpants, revealing his own impressive length—sleek and barbed at the tip, pulsing with heat, the air around it growing thick with his feline arousal, sharp and spicy.

"Mmm, look at these joysticks," Vixie murmured, her breath hot against their ears as she wrapped her soft paws around both shafts, one in each hand. Her grip was firm yet gentle, pads calloused just enough to add a delicious friction. She began to stroke them in unison, slow and deliberate, her thumbs circling the sensitive heads where pre-cum already beaded like dew on morning grass. The slick sounds of her movements—wet schlicks and soft squelches—mingled with the game's explosions, creating an erotic symphony.

Rex groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily, the couch creaking under him. "V-Vixie, that's... oh fuck, that's cheating!"

Whiskers hissed in pleasure, his tail lashing wildly, brushing against Vixie's back. "Yeah, but... don't stop. Feels too good..."

Vixie laughed, a light, tinkling sound like wind chimes in a breeze, her eyes sparkling with playful challenge. "Cheating? Nah, this is a new level—multiplayer mode! Let's make it a game, boys. Who can last longer while I work my magic? Winner gets to pick the next 'activity'..." She squeezed both cocks a little harder, twisting her wrists on the upstroke, eliciting twin moans. The room filled with the heady cocktail of their scents: Rex's earthy, doggy musk blending with Whiskers' sharper, feline tang, all underscored by Vixie's sweet berry allure.

As she pumped faster, her breasts bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening in the cool air-conditioned draft. Rex's paw instinctively reached out to fondle one, his rough pads tweaking the peak, drawing a gasp from her. "You're on, kitty," he growled to Whiskers, though his voice wavered. "I can outlast you any day—your barbs are too sensitive!"

Whiskers smirked through gritted teeth, his claws digging into the couch cushion as Vixie's hand glided up and down his length, the barbs catching slightly on her fur for extra stimulation. "Dream on, pup. Cats have nine lives—and nine times the stamina!" He leaned in, nuzzling Vixie's neck, inhaling her scent deeply, his rough tongue darting out to taste the salt on her skin.

The game on screen devolved into chaos—ships crashing, scores plummeting—as their focus shattered. Vixie's strokes varied now, teasing Rex with long, slow pulls that made his knot throb and ache, while she flicked her thumb over Whiskers' tip in quick circles, making him yowl. Sweat beaded on their brows, fur matting slightly, the air growing humid and electric. "Come on, boys," she encouraged, her own arousal evident in the way her thighs pressed together, a faint wet sound as she shifted. "Feel that? Who's gonna blow first? No holding back—play fair!"

Rex panted, his tongue hanging out, the taste of his own saliva mixing with the popcorn residue on his lips. "Not... me... damn, your paw feels like heaven..."

Whiskers arched his back, purring raggedly. "Keep talking, doggo—you're just trying to distract yourself!"

Vixie grinned wider, leaning in to nip at Rex's ear, then Whiskers' shoulder, her teeth grazing fur and skin just enough to sting sweetly. Her pace quickened, hands flying in perfect sync, the slick heat building to a fever pitch. The couch springs groaned in protest, the TV's glow painting their writhing forms in neon hues, as the competition edged toward its explosive climax—who would win this furry frenzy?

The room pulsed with an almost tangible energy now, the air saturated with the raw, primal cocktail of scents: Rex's deep, earthy musk mingling with Whiskers' sharper, spicy feline tang, all laced through with Vixie's intoxicating berry-sweet arousal that grew stronger by the second. The forgotten game on the TV screen flickered erratically, ships exploding in silent bursts of color that cast shifting shadows across their sweat-glistened fur. The couch creaked rhythmically under their shifting weights, the leather warm and sticky from the heat of their bodies, while the faint hum of the console fan provided a steady undertone to the symphony of their heavy breaths, moans, and the slick, wet sounds of Vixie's paws working tirelessly.

Vixie’s eyes gleamed with wicked delight as she felt both males teetering on the edge, her soft, dexterous paws a blur of motion. She adjusted her grip on Rex first, her fingers encircling his massive, throbbing cock just above the swollen knot, squeezing rhythmically like she was coaxing a heartbeat. The veiny length pulsed hot against her palm, slick with pre-cum that dribbled in steady rivulets, coating her fur in a glossy sheen. For Whiskers, she used a lighter touch at first, her thumb and forefinger forming a tight ring that dragged up and down his barbed shaft, the rough textures catching on her pads and sending jolts through him with every stroke. She could feel their heartbeats through their members—Rex's strong and steady like a drum, Whiskers' rapid and fluttering like a trapped bird.

"Oh, you two are so close," Vixie teased, her voice a sultry whisper that cut through the haze, her breath hot and minty from the gum she'd chewed earlier, now discarded on the coffee table. She leaned in closer, her bare breasts brushing against their thighs, nipples hard and pebbled from the cool air and her own mounting excitement. The contact sent shivers racing up her spine, her tail curling high behind her as she inhaled deeply, savoring the heady mix of their scents that made her head swim. "I can feel it building... that pressure, that ache. Don't hold back now—who's gonna flood me first? Make it a real competition, boys. Show me how much you can give."

Rex was the first to crack, but oh, how Vixie drew it out. His golden fur stood on end along his arms and chest, muscles tensing as a low, guttural growl rumbled from deep in his throat. His hips bucked upward involuntarily, thrusting into her hand with desperate, shallow pumps that made the couch springs squeak in protest. "Vixie... shit, I'm—I'm right there," he panted, his voice rough and strained, tongue lolling out to taste the salty sweat beading on his muzzle. His floppy ears flattened back, and his claws dug into the cushion beside him, fabric tearing slightly with a soft rip.

Vixie slowed her strokes just enough to torment him, her paw gliding agonizingly slow from base to tip, twisting at the head where pre-cum pooled and overflowed. "Not yet, puppy," she cooed, her free paw trailing up his thigh to scratch lightly at the sensitive fur near his balls, drawing a whimper from him. "Build it up... let it simmer. I want you to explode for me." She quickened again, pumping faster, her grip tightening around his knot until it throbbed like it might burst. Rex's whole body arched, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow to sting his eyes, the taste of popcorn still faint on his lips from earlier snacking.

Finally, with a barked cry that echoed off the walls—"Fuck, Vixie, yes!"—he shattered. The first climax hit like a dam breaking: a thick, forceful rope of cum erupted from his tip, hot and viscous, arcing high in the air before splattering across Vixie's wrist and forearm in heavy, pearly strands that clung to her red fur like molten wax. The scent bloomed instantly—rich, salty, undeniably masculine—filling the room as another spurt followed, then another, each one propelled by the rhythmic clenching of his knot. Vixie milked him relentlessly, her hand sliding up and down through the mess, the slick schlick-schlick sounds growing louder and wetter. Cum dribbled over her knuckles, pooling in her palm, and splashed onto his own golden belly fur, matting it in sticky patches that cooled quickly in the air. A fourth jet shot out, weaker but still copious, hitting her chest and trickling down between her breasts, the warmth making her gasp and press her thighs together harder.

But Rex wasn't done—Vixie wouldn't let him be. She squeezed his knot harder, rolling it in her palm like a stress ball, and coaxed out more: a fifth spurt, then a sixth, each one drawing ragged groans from him as his body convulsed, tail thumping wildly against the couch. "Oh god... more? How—ahh!" he yelped, his voice breaking into a whine as the overstimulation hit, every nerve firing like fireworks. Cum oozed in slower, thicker dribbles now, coating her entire paw until it glistened, the excess dripping onto the leather seat with soft plops. His chest heaved, breaths coming in hot, ragged pants that fogged the air slightly, and he slumped back, dazed, but his cock still twitched in her grasp, spent yet sensitive.

Whiskers had been holding on by a thread, his green eyes locked on the spectacle, the sight and sound of Rex's prolonged release pushing him closer. His striped fur rippled with tension, tail lashing back and forth so fiercely it whipped against Vixie's side, the soft fur tickling her skin. "You... you dog, couldn't hold it," he hissed through clenched teeth, but his voice wavered, laced with envy and his own building desperation. Vixie's hand on him never faltered—stroking in firm, twisting pulls that dragged over every barb, sending electric sparks up his spine. Pre-cum slickened her fingers, making the motion smoother, faster, the spicy scent of his arousal sharpening the air like fresh-cut herbs.

Vixie turned her attention to him fully now, her cum-smeared paw from Rex joining the one on Whiskers for a double-handed assault. "Your turn, kitty," she murmured, leaning in to lick a slow stripe along his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat on her rough tongue. The dual grip was overwhelming—one hand pumping the base, the other focusing on the tip, thumb circling the sensitive head where barbs flared out. Whiskers arched his back with a sharp yowl, claws extending to prick the couch, the faint scent of torn fabric adding to the chaos. "N-not fair... two hands? That's... oh fuck, Vixie!"

She dragged it out even longer for him, alternating speeds: fast and furious strokes that made his hips jerk, then slow, teasing glides that left him whimpering and begging. "Please... more, faster—don't stop!" he pleaded, his purring turning into a broken rumble that vibrated through his chest. His balls drew up tight, the pressure coiling like a spring, and Vixie felt it—the telltale swell along his length.

When he finally broke, it was explosive. "Mroww—yes, yes!" he cried, body seizing as the first spurt rocketed out—long, thin ropes of cum, milky and copious, shooting across Vixie's arm and mixing with Rex's residue in a sticky blend. The scent spiked, feline sharpness cutting through the canine heaviness, as another jet followed, then a third, splattering her thigh and dripping down in warm trails that tickled her fur. Vixie pumped him through it, her hands a blur, milking every pulse: a fourth spurt arced onto the coffee table with a wet splat, a fifth coated his own thigh in glistening stripes, and a sixth oozed thickly over her fingers as she squeezed the base.

But she kept going, drawing out the aftershocks—seventh and eighth dribbles that left him trembling, yowling incoherently, his barbs hypersensitive and twitching with each brush of her pads. "Too much... ahh, but don't stop... more!" he gasped, his voice hoarse, body slumping against her shoulder as the final weak pulses ebbed, leaving him utterly drained. Cum pooled everywhere—on the couch, on their fur, the air thick with the combined musk that clung to every surface.

Vixie finally released them both, her paws a mess of mingled seed, which she brought to her muzzle with a satisfied hum. She licked slowly, savoring the dual flavors—salty depth from Rex, tangy spice from Whiskers—her tongue curling around each finger with deliberate sensuality. "Mmm... you both came so much more than I expected," she purred, her own body flushed and aching now, wetness slick between her thighs. "Such generous boys. But look at this mess... I think you owe me a cleanup round."

Rex, still panting, managed a weak grin, his tongue lolling. "Anything... for you, Vix."

Whiskers nodded shakily, purring faintly. "Yeah... but give us a minute. That was... intense."

Vixie laughed, low and throaty, shifting to straddle their laps more fully, her heat pressing against their softening lengths. "A minute? Oh, we're just getting started. Next game: who recovers first?"

Blacklisted
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