Furry sexting

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A moose is loitering outside a hotel in the Chicago suburb of Arlington Heights. The moose—actually a man in a full-body moose costume—is here for a convention. Photographed at his home in Fairlawn, Ohio, on January 10, Even the people in regular clothes have a little something ferret hand puppet, rabbit ears to set them apart from the ordinary hotel guests.

One man in jeans and a button-down shirt gets up from a couch in the lobby and walks over to the elevator, revealing a fluffy tail dragging behind him. The elevator doors open. Inside, a fellow is kissing a man with antlers on his head. At p. I am tempted to turn around and run. And then it hit him. He started to believe that, somewhere deep down, he was actually … a polar bear. Next to him is his skinny, longhaired, fedora-wearing sidekick, a year-old art student named Ian Johnson nametag: r. Ostrich has to run an errand.

We get into his Chevrolet Metro and speed away from the Sheraton, toward the nearest mall. The headlights illuminate the road ahead. Ostrich, whose real name is Marshall Woods, is a compact guy in a denim jacket and blue jeans. He was a chemist at the time, collecting dinosaur stuff on the side. One day he went to a comic-book shop and discovered Genus, a furry comic-book series with sexy characters. Now he writes a newsletter for Ohio Furs, an organization of furries with 87 members.

He got his name after taking some ballet classes and not being very good at it. And I was compared to the ostrich ballerinas in Fantasia. They are trying very hard, but they are not quite there. In , Ostrich put up a Web site where you can see his animal drawings, his animal-themed poems and short stories one of which was published in Pawprints, a magazine for furries , his instructions on how to build a fursuit, and pictures of himself engaged in animal-centered activities. Like the time he made a solo trip to Sea World. Who could refuse them?

He even wrote a plushie newsletter for a while, but gave it up. In a casual way, but not really seriously. He goes into a store and purchases materials for a puppet-making workshop he is scheduled to lead the next day. I never really have. It does not please me. He thinks the technology will be available relatively soon to help him achieve this dream. Talking about all this almost causes Ostrich to miss his exit.

I kind of skate through society. As fucked up as I am, I at least know how I feel and what I want to do, and I have the good fortune to have a of friends who feel the same way. But the odd thing is, the longer I do this and the more deeply I get into it, the happier I am in the city and around crowds.

Feeling expansive. Willing to expand on topics and so forth. He sits on the chair and says there is a low percentage of women in the fandom, and a preponderance of gay men—or seemingly gay. And we find as the of women increases, the of people who thought they were gay but decided otherwise increases, too. I know a couple people who thought they were gay until they met a furry girl. I have trouble looking at it objectively, because it seems so natural.

Having not come to it from the outside, I have difficulty saying what it actually is. There are many kinds of furries, but they all seem to have a few things in common. Something happened to them after a youthful encounter with Bugs Bunny or Scooby Doo or the mascot at the pep rally. They took refuge in cartoons or science fiction. After being bombarded by tigers telling them what cereal to eat, camels smoking cigarettes, cars named after animals, airplanes with eyes and smiles, shirts with alligators, they decided their fellow human beings were not nearly so interesting as those animal characters.

The second big revelation for most furries came when they got on the Internet. Not only were there others like them, they learned, but they were organized! They started having conventions in the early 90s. Now, such gatherings as the Further Confusion convention in San Jose, California, and Anthrocon in Philadelphia, attract more than 1, furry hobbyists apiece. There are other conventions, too—even summer camps. The furry group has its own customs and language. Many furries have jobs related to science and computers.

A high of furries are bearded and wear glasses. Some have googly, glazed, innocent eyes. A few are crazy-eyed. Down in the lobby, a coyote is sitting on a couch. His nametag re, shaggy, but his real name is Mike. Mike the Coyote says he is a security guard in Indiana and has been going to furry conventions since I hope it stays this way. For me, walking around a con with a tail hanging out my butt just seems weird. Just not my particular bag. Anybody involved in beauty ants? Two months prior to the FurFest, I visited Fox Wolfie Galen, whose real name is Kenneth, at his house in a small Pennsylvania city, where he lives with a roommate and more than a thousand stuffed animals.

He was staring at his computer screen, monitoring an on-line auction. Photographed at his home in Pennsylvania on January 12, Photographs by Harry Benson. I mostly collect bunnies, foxes, bears, ferrets, otters, sometimes dinosaurs. Fox Wolfie Galen, aged 39, was wearing a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, green jeans, and thick, red-tinted glasses. Stuffed animals surrounded him and were stacked up to the ceiling against the wall by his bed.

A big Meeko, the raccoon character from Pocahontas, in a Cub Scout uniform was looking at me with a crazed expression. Fox Wolfie Galen had never traveled much beyond his hometown until four years ago, when he went to a furry convention in California with another plushophile he had met on-line. Growing up, he never fantasized about women. His on-line bid won him the skunk and he turned off the computer. He grew up in the country. The closest store was five miles away. He liked to stay indoors watching cartoons or playing board games or reading science fiction and books about animals.

In high school, he said, he experimented with bestiality. I was at that age where I was learning to see what made things work. After college he lived with a woman in a wheelchair, and cared for her for nine years. At one point he got engaged to another woman, but broke it off. He preferred plush. For a long time he thought he was the only plushophile on the planet. Then, in , he discovered a Web site that captured his interest. I almost fell over. He started his own Web site. There, you can see sexually explicit photos from furry conventions, doctored cartoon stills, and his short stories.

Fox Wolfie Galen said he does have intercourse with his stuffed animals but more often rubs himself externally on the fur. Some people put openings in all their plush. Some people even pray to their plushies. It was getting late. He started out doing that stuff. If you could do it to an animal, you could do it to a human. He said he wished it were possible to be part man and part beast. In an ideal world, Fox Wolfie Galen would be a ferret, a rat, a skunk, a fox, or a raccoon.

They actually have fingers, opposable thumbs and everything. I could imagine a raccoon being half a human and walking on two feet. It would kind of be like a living Disney cartoon. I would only volunteer if we were to be considered at least remotely equal. I called a taxi and went to the bathroom. When I came back to his lair, Fox Wolfie Galen was in a full-body tiger suit. He was gesturing to a rip in the costume, between his legs. Outside his house, Fox Wolfie Galen was waving good-bye to me—with a fox hand puppet. Now she was sitting down in the living room of her Brooklyn Heights apartment, where she lives with her husband.

Even ordinary sex is pretty damn absurd when you think about it. And the people who do it for the most part have a great sense of humor about it. Galen is a good example. These people need a way of having intimacy and pleasure, too. Her Web site, deviantdesires. She opened a cabinet and found a video called Smush, made by Jeff Vilencia, whose work is admired by crush enthusiasts. We watched. A pudgy woman appeared and then … worm after worm after worm began exploding under her footsteps. I love to tease them when I press them down softly at first. I am going to step on you and smush you!

Clearly, we were at the other end of the sexual spectrum from the gentle plushophiles. The men who enjoy these videos, Gates said, like to imagine themselves at the mercy of all-powerful goddesses. There are probably no more than 1, crushers out there, Gates believes.

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