FSE

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This short vignette was written for Silvergatomon as part of my Patreon request days for January. It contains M/Solo sexual acts involving a consenting adult, and watersports. :3

Storm in a Bottle

Much as Finnick was happy to go with the flow if it meant a payday or some hot ass by the night's end, the fennec fox was in many respects a creature of habit. If left to his own devices his evenings would end with a quiet chillout session in his van, some weed and some beers if he was certain that he was parked up for the night. He might have been off the grid, but he wasn't the kind of asshole who'd drink and drive whether or not he expected to get caught. He'd get a pleasant buzz on, swig from his beers until his small body was pleasantly tingling, and curl up naked to sleep in the back of his van.

The following morning after nights like that was equally simple and regular in its routine. He'd wake up with an aching hard-on, normally finding fresh in his mind the remnants of whatever dream he'd been engaged in. Some nights it would be of him and Gazelle fucking on stage, hundreds, thousands of screaming fans jealous not of him for getting to fuck one of the most beautiful women in all Zootopia, but jealous of Gazelle for getting to be with the renowned stud himself, Finnick. Other nights he'd dream of Nick, and awaken feeling his ass clenching with the phantom of the knot that he was so certain had been stretching him and pounding him senseless. And sometimes... sometimes he'd wake up red faced and blushing as his cock strained and throbbed between his legs, ears glowing crimson as he tried to tell himself that he definitely hadn't been dreaming of himself in his baby elephant onesie, cradled in Judy Hopps' arms as he suckled from her breast, listening to her coo soft nursery rhymes to him while she stroked his rigid cock through the fabric of the onesie and called him her good little puppy dog.

Regardless, when he awoke his first job was simple. Jerk off. He'd lather up a paw or two depending on how energetic or hung over he was feeling, wrap one around his shaft while the other went to town upon his swollen knot, and lie flat upon his back with hands a blur until with a snarl he painted his belly, chest and face with streaks of sweet cum that he shamelessly wiped onto his paws and then licked off.

By the time his cock had softened and his knot had begun to deflate, desire would always, inevitably give way to a different kind of need. The need to relieve not his balls and the cum boiling within them, but his bladder. With his orgasmic desires sated the beers he'd drunk the night before would inevitably make their presence known, and all of a sudden Finnick would find himself so desperate that the only recourse was top hop out of the van, scoot around to whatever part of it was least visible, and let loose against a wheel or a nearby wall.

At least, that was the case the vast majority of the time. He didn't care if it was blustery and cold outside, or if there was a little rain in the air. He didn't care if it was mid-winter and still pitch dark, or if it was summer and there would already be joggers out on the street enjoying the cooler hours of the day before the sun's heat began to beat down in full force over Sahara square. Indeed there was only one type of weather that would severely impede the fennec's ability to use the restroom first thing in the morning.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning cracked through the sky. Finnick whined as he paced back and forth, clutching like a child at his sheath as he fought the desperate urge to go, to let his aching bladder loose right then and there. It had been storming outside since Finnick woke up, and though he had expected the storm to be over before he was done jerking off it had stubbornly failed to fade away. Now it was almost half an hour later, and as rain drummed against the roof of the van he found its rear lighting up with flashes of crackling lightning several times every minute. It wasn't that Finnick was afraid of storms, not in general at least. But... he had this thing, this dumb fear that he just couldn't let go of. For as long as he remembered, the fennec fox had been mortified by the idea of being struck by lightning while peeing, and ending up not just dead, but dead from a visible lightning strike to the cock. He could see the TV news stories about it, the internet profiles, and the memes going on from now to eternity declaring him a historical figure; the guy who got killed having his cock zapped off in a thunderstorm.

Thus, he had to wait for the storm to end. Because, it had to end sooner rather than later. Right? It had to.

Another minute passed.

Another five.

Another ten.

The fennec whined desperately and pounded a fist against one wall of the van, his whole body convulsing as he very nearly lost control of his bladder and only just caught himself, only just saved himself from making a mess in the back of the van at the very last second.

"A-aaahhhh... g-goddammit..."

Thunder cracked once again, and in a frenzy Finnick began to look around the rear of the van as though expecting some miraculous opportunity to present itself, some way for him to magically stop the thunderstorm or to get himself to a bathroom in the seconds or so that he felt like his body had left before it simply ceased to be able to hold back in any way whatsoever. He stared at his discarded clothes, at the bundled blankets of his bed, at the small electric camping stove he used to heat up food. He stared at the empty bottles of beer that had caused this problem for him in the first place, and...

He blinked. He stared at the beer bottles, and groaned in dismay as he stared down at his sheath. Feverishly, without a moment's hesitation, he ceased simply holding a hand out over his sheath and began to actively rub it. To squeeze and stroke at the pocket of furred flesh, shivering and gasping and yipping softly until not long after he had begun he felt something begin to stir within. Stumbling across the van's interior Finnick snatched up one of the three empty beer bottles from the prior night, and as he released his now swelling erection, protruding free from his sheath, he grunted in relief as he stuffed its tip down the neck of the beer bottle and finally, with a joyous grunt let go.

It wasn't always the easiest to piss through a hard-on, but Finnick was so ready, so desperate to let loose that no sooner had his cock touched against the cool glass the first drops were already dribbling from his tip. He shuddered, he grunted in relief as with an almost hissing release of pressure the liquid of his urine began to spray out against the interior of the bottle, and he felt it warming within his hand as it rapidly started to fill. Biting down on his bottom lip, Finnick shuddered and gasped as he filled it more and more until to his dismay with his bladder still feeling rather full he realised that this single bottle wasn't going to be enough. Squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to clamp down, his cock straining urgently, he ceased the flow for a moment or two. With shaking hands he set the first beer bottle down on the van's floor, careful to put it somewhere flat and stable, before reaching down and grabbing another bottle. He repeated the process, and was soon gasping in relief and delight all over again as the second of the bottles began to fill.

Soon Finnick found himself draining the last of his bladder's desperate offering into the third of the bottles, staring down rather bashfully at the other two full beer-bottles of urine resting just in front of where his naked body now stood. He bucked his hips and growled as his cock twitched, letting loose one final small spurt of piss to add to the inch or so that already rested at the bottom of that final bottle. He sighed in relief, but even now found himself trembling slightly. Not in anxiety any more, not in worry that he was going to piss himself. But instead, in excitement. In desire. He looked down at his crotch as the clear bottle rested around his member, a cock that was now fully erect with the slight bulge of his knot resting just outside the neck of the bottle while his shaft disappeared into it.

"Your filthy, Finn..."

He growled to himself with a devilish grin, knowing exactly what was going through his mind in that moment.

"Twisted and filthy. Man... I love being me."

His toes curled down at the ground below, little claws tapping against the base of the van's interior as he started to rock back and forth. The fennec huffed and moaned, and he licked his lips as he began to hump at the neck of the bottle into which his cock was currently pressed, feeling the smooth, cool glass just able to comfortably fit the girth of his small body's adequate but not by any means large member. Slowly he picked up speed, and another lustful growl escaped him as the inch or so of liquid inside the bottle began to slosh and splash, his knot pressing against the opening of the bottle in a relatively firm seal and keeping the warm, fresh piss within even as it began to splash over the cock from which it had sprung just a short while ago.

Finnick's tongue lolled out and his eyes glazed over, the fennec huffing, growling, grinning like a lunatic as he humped at the bottle and revelled in the sensation of his warm piss teasing and stimulating his cock while the bottle rubbing against the base of his shaft and its knot drove him closer and closer to his second orgasm of the day, barely more than forty minutes since his last peak.

"Yeah. G-god, yeah!"

Grunting, snarling, eyes glazed over with delirious glee, Finnick humped harder at the bottle and its splashing, dripping content. He groaned in pure lust as a few strokes proved a little too exuberent and the tiniest few drops of piss escaped the bottle's seal, running down around his knot and into the fur of his crotch. The smell of his urine wafting off the other full bottles and now staining his fur filled the van's interior and the nose of the fennec responsible for its presence. Outside the thunder rumbled on and the lightning flashed, the pounding rain against the roof muffling Finnick's howls to the outside world but doing nothing to keep him from hearing every splish-splash of the bottle's piss against his cock.

"Yes! Yes! Aaaahhfuck, fuck, I... c-cumming!"

Finnick yelped happily as he stared, wide eyed and transfixed down at the bottle as his cock began to strain and throb uncontrollably. He watched as four thick ribbons of cum lashed out against the interior walls of the bottle, staining the clear glass cloudy and raining down the droplets of his seed into the pale yellow piss already held within. He felt his erection twitching, his whole body shaking as pleasure surged through his body and his arousal skyrocketed, this strange and impromptu act hitting all his buttons in a way he normally had to be with someone else to feel. It felt like it lasted forever, yet at the same time when finally the high of his peak did reach its end Finnick found himself whining and humping at the glass a little more, as though begging his body to let it happen all over again while he continued to stare hungrily at the floating strings of cum within that ocean of his increasingly hazy, cloudy mix of piss and cum.

"Ohh... goddamn..."

He grinned to himself lazily, happily as he set that third and final bottle down before gently collapsing back to his bed, flat upon his back while ensuring the van didn't rock in a way that might disturb the trio of bottles and their content. One hand idly fell to his cock just as it would have after he was done masturbating normally. It swept off the wetness upon his shaft, normally just whatever cum had drooled down his length at the end of his peak, and instinctively, before Finnick's mind could tune back in and stop him, he lifted it to his muzzle and took a long, luxurious lick of his palm.

His nose wrinkled. His tongue stuck out again in shock as it tasted the acrid tang of urine mingled with the sweeter, saltier notes of his cum.

A moment later though, once the shock passed, Finnick snorted with laughter.

"Dirty little fucker..."

He growled to himself with a devilish grin.

"Guess now I've gotta find me a fuck buddy that likes piss-play. Coz... mmnh, damn... stormy mornings or not? Till I find someone to share it with, I'm gonna do this again."

By Jeeves

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