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Nightfall had long settled upon Pinata Island as a television flickered through channels in a dark room rapidly, churning out static between each flashing station. A lonely and anxious fudgehog sat on the edge of his bed, covered up with his bedsheets as his gaze loomed over the tube like a hawk. His heart beating frivolously as he surfed through the channels, his carnal hunger craving only one thing.

"-u're watching the Deep Romance Channel," A sleek and scantily clad bunnycomb sure to make any man blush with her busty chest spoke in a breathy tone. The bedridden pinata was sure he could hear her moaning ever so quietly at the end.

"You bet I am lady!" The fudgehog muttered quietly, a smug, predatory look was worn on his face as he eyed the bunny pinata up intensely. He had to keep his voice down, he may have been a freshly young adult at the age of eighteen, but Fergy was still living in his mother's house and under her rules. A big rule of hers was "no girly friend's allowed in the house without supervision!" He could hear his mom's voice echo in his head.

However, this was a different situation. Sure the rule probably applied here as well, but he wouldn't want to be caught dead by his mother seeing him stroke his stick to some mache sluts. He did the naughty deed since who knows how long. All he could remember was that he was at his best friend, Paulie Pretztail's, place and had stayed the night there. The pretztail had done some late night browsing when he thought Fergy was sleeping. Needless to say it lead to some very awkward explanations when he was caught.

But all was forgiven, especially when there was babes on the screen to gawk at. The scene cut to two hourglass frame pretztails making out with each other on the sunset beach, their assets had fought for the fudgehog's attention as they bobbled and swayed about. "Oh-ho-ho-yeeeaaah..." The fudgehog unwound, flopping back onto his pillows and spreading his legs apart. He grabbed himself under the covers and began to slowly stroke his love stick.

Every glide and rub sent a shiver across the fudgehog's body. He pictured himself between the two pretztails, imagining them brushing themselves up against his body and covering his face with kisses and little love nibbles. "Nnnn..." He moaned lightly as his libido grew stronger between his legs.

The pretztails began to hum in pleasure as well, forcing the fudgehog to flop a blind arm for the remote. He didn't need his mom to overhear the clamor on the television and ruin the moment. Grasping the remote, the fudgehog pointed it at the tube and hushed the pretztails. Tossing the tech aside, he was able to focus both paws on his erection, which now stood tall at full mast.

The scene on screen had transitioned, now focusing on another 'on-camera-only-lesbian' couple, enjoying their intimacy together inside the hot tub. The duo consisted of a mallowolf, resting her perky pair on her arms against the rim of the tub. Ecstasy was written on her face as her cocoadile partner rubbed her tender bosom across her back as she grinded up behind her.

The fudgehog's pace quickened as he imagined the reptile pinata sporting a strap-on, going to town on the mallowolf's rear. The thought had tantalize him with jealousy, wishing he could be there to witness it all himself. He wanted to see their goods underneath the foamy water and if that overgrown lizard was housing a rubber dick between her legs or not.

His mast began to dampen the sheet it was pressed firmly against. The horndog fudgehog was too engulfed in his lustful thoughts to pay it any mind. It didn't catch his attention until a lone drop fell and dragged itself across his paw. "Oh fudge..." He muttered to himself, "ruined the sheets again." He glared at the moist spot. Luckily his mom took care of all his laundry needs and misdeeds.

The fudgehog had suffered a bad case of bed wetting (As well as wet dreams, but those were on purpose with his mother none the wiser) that still continued to follow him into adulthood. He would refuse to admit it to anyone. The only unfortunate soul besides his mother to know this deep dark secret was none other than his best friend, Paulie Pretztail. The papery fox had to find this out the hard way, banishing the fudgehog to sleep on the floor in case of any further instances.

A few more tugs and the fudgehog could feel his orgasm peaking. He struggled to keep his heaving breathing under control, fearing it could evolve into a moaning fit if left unchecked. But he so desperately wanted to join the choir on the other side of the screen, anything to be closer to his perverted fantasy.

"Ah-Ahhh!" The fudgehog's ecstasy has slipped out through his lips, his seed blasting through his sheets only to land back on them. His instant regrets were suppressed by the pleasure released from within his pinata beating stick. A slave to his primal needs, the fudgehog was helpless to do anything until the bouts of heated sensations passed.

"Fergy?" The raspy call of his mother shouted from down the hall, "Fergy, my little sweetums are you okay?!" Her voice grew closer as panic began to replace every feeling in the fudgehog's body. His brain switched instantly to defcon five, he needed to cover his tracks and fast if he was going to avoid an oncoming disaster. He flipped the tube off and tossed the remote aside, bunching up the sheets as much as he could to contain the mess from prying eyes as he feigned resting.

Without warning, his mother had barged in. There was no time for knocking when her precious son was crying out in fear as he did every so other night. "Fergy are you alright? Did you have a bad dream again?" The lights flickered on dimly, enough to brighten the room, but not to burn the fudgehog's eyeballs.

"Y-yes ma," Fergy responded, a twinkle of fear in his eyes as guilt lied in wait just behind them. "Just another nightmare, that's all, really!" He wanted to shoo her out as soon as possible. it was really uncomfortable laying in his own silky, slimy juices. The sooner she was out, the sooner he could toss the sheet away for a cleaner one.

"Is that's all my little gumdrop?" She brushed a paw across his forehead, feeling the sweltering, sweating heat emanating from his cardboard skin. "Oh my! You're burning up!" The motherly fudgehog exclaimed. "I'll get you an ice pack to cool down with! Be right back Fergy-dear, hang in there!" She bolted out of the room, leaving Fergy to his own devices for the time being.

Oh fudge! What am I gonna do? Fergy thought to himself in a panic, he had to make it more convincing to make his mom believe he truly did suffer a horrific dream. I got it! The scheming fudgehog's eyes glimmered with a nefarious idea. He never once wet the bed on purpose, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Letting his legs loosen up between the sheets, the fudgehog grunted slightly as he let his now flaccid nub let loose a yellow torrent, the invasion of new liquids ran silent through the sheets, going down his groin and thighs. The sensation of his warmth had him paralyzed for the moment. He couldn't contain his flood, letting his urine trickle down into the rubber padding below.

"Oh fudge..." Fergy muttered, soaking in his own puddle. With his groin now completely empty of any and all fluids, the fudgehog felt a pang of guilt well up inside him. The newfound act felt so good, but so taboo. Only little kids purposely wet themselves, right? The fudgehog demeaned himself, not sure how to cope with the unsure feelings inside of him.

Letting out a defeated sigh, he waited for his mom to return. The thoughts had flushed away as his mother came in with an ice pack in one hand and a bowl of ice cream comfort food in the other. Fergy's mess was still cleverly concealed, his mother would have the misfortune of cleaning it all up in the morning.

"Eat up deary," she placed the ice pack-on his head while handing the bowl out to him. He carefully lifted himself up, taking the ice cream in one paw, his mess shifting along with him.

"Thanks ma," Fergy spoke feebly, the guilt hanging in his voice. Digging in, his mother went to turn on the TV, only to get a verbal outburst from the Fudgehog, who almost dropped his bowl in protest, "NOO!" He paused for a moment before correcting his tone. "No TV tonight ma, my eyes hurt," He reiterated in a calm demeanor.

"Oh, alright then Fergy," She trotted back to her son. "Good night my sweet little angel," his mother left him with an annoying kiss on his forehead before taking off, closing the door behind her. Phew, that was a close one. Fergy celebrated with another spoonful of desert. With mom out of sight, the fudgehog decided to glance over at the casualties his bed took.

Pulling his legs apart once again, Fergy's eyes grazed over the drenched battlefield, the odor of sex and piss filled his nostrils. Luckily the fudgehog had grew noseblind to both smells, getting nothing but a slight wrinkle of his snout. He knew he should clean it off, but the ice cream tasted too damn good. Unfortunately, the fudgehog had passed out before he could finish the rest of his portion.