FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Big with Pig

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

A commission for derikosgreen

Author's Note: The characters and setting of this story are © Disney, and are used without official permission. The author makes no profit from this story.

Creeping through the tall grass surrounding the waterhole nearest Pride Rock, Nala kept her body low to the ground, even though this tickled her substantial breasts every time she brushed against a short-cropped patch of new greenery where the passing herds had come through, browsing the vegetation low to the ground. This tickling was made especially bad today, because Nala's broad, light pink nipples were painfully erect right then. Erect not with the light chill of the early evening, as she would claim if she were caught in her present enterprise. No, her nipples were erect, and her dewy folds almost painfully swollen, and so moist they squished as she crawled, all because of...him.

The problem had started when Nala had been seeking for Simba, having only just escaped Pride Rock after Scar ravished her. The wicked, tawny lion had been so...so overpowering in personality that, even though she'd known that he was her father, Nala simply couldn't muster up the force of will to stop him from dragging her into his private den, squealing and struggling and begging him for mercy, only to have her delicate virgin folds stretched. None of the other lionesses dared to intervene, of course: Scar had too much sexual dominance, too much wicked charisma...and too many horny hyenas on his side, who took a special delight in sodomizing lionesses, and staining their golden fur with their sticky, disgusting cum. She'd escaped, eventually, while her mother, Sarafina, and Queen Sarabi herself debased themselves to keep the hyenas on watch busy, fleeing the guilty thrill she'd felt in the clutches of that evil one...and right into another sort of guilty thrill not long after she'd entered the jungle.

Nala had picked up the smell first. That she could pick out any single smell in the thick, cloying verdure of the jungles bordering the far edge of the Pridelands said worlds about how pungent that scent had been. It was heavy, overpowering, and not at all pleasant, and yet it also had qualities to it that were strangely alluring. Musky. Thick with raw, masculine essence. So soon after her first sexual experience, her body still tingling with the memory of the many, many unwanted orgasms the cruelly skilled lion had subjected her to, she'd followed her instincts, driving her toward the owner of that overpowering scent, only to stop short as she poked her head out of the underbrush...and very nearly bumped right into the biggest set of balls she'd ever seen!

Jerking back into hiding at the last moment, Nala had simply stared in awe, muzzle agape. Scar had been quite well-endowed for a lion, but even he was puny compared to this massive set of plums. They looked swollen with enough semen to seed her entire pride! Twice! The owner of those magnificent testicles was bent over, happily humming to himself as he rummaged about in an overturned log, looking for grubs and similar treats for a warthog, blissfully unaware of anyone who might be watching from the underbrush as his loincloth rode up, baring all his weighty treasures. And that's what he was: a warthog. By the Great Kings, he wasn't even her species!

Overwhelmed, Nala had done the most natural thing for a carnivore when presented with the biggest, plumpest, juiciest piece of meat she'd ever encountered in her young life: she pounced!

That entire debacle was a little embarrassing for Nala to think of now. Since that first rough start to their relationship, she'd gotten to know Pumbaa quite well, and she was glad that Simba had managed to stop her from doing something she'd have regretted greatly later; after all, like all the lions of Pride Rock, she didn't eat two-leggers. That was simply barbaric! And to eat someone as sweet and kind and gentle as Pumbaa, well, that would have just been unforgivable.

Even if every lioness at Pride Rock drooled at the sight of the unwitting warthog's "meat" every time he strolled past, blissfully unaware of how little his scant loincloth actually covered.

Pumbaa was the one who'd almost immediately decided to come and help Nala, after all. Timon had eventually joined too, but for the hefty warthog, helping his friend was just the most natural thing in the world. When Scar had been deposed and dragged off by the hyenas (and there were still rumors that he was alive somewhere out there, though likely as a sex slave to the spotty-furred beasts he'd offended), and Simba had taken his rightful place as the ruler of Pride Rock, Pumbaa had immediately gotten to work. After all, there was so much damage done from fires and drought and Scar's own occasional psychopathic rages, somebody had to dig fire breaks...and wells...and channels for water from the streams...and drag logs and smooth them down and then set them up in a palisade to get Pride Rock's encampment looking right again. Simba was almost overwhelmed just repairing the diplomatic damage done by Scar and his hyena allies, and Nala and the other lionesses were run ragged finding food even with the return of the rains, so Pumbaa had simply shrugged those broad shoulders of his, and stepped into the role required of him by circumstance.

Little did the pudgy, thick-bodied male ever realize how much the lionesses of Pride Rock admired him, watching him at work whenever they got the opportunity. Little did he realize that this was Nala's reason for creeping through the tall grass right that moment, parting it quietly before her as she cautiously poked her head forward, green eyes fixed on their desired target: to see Pumbaa, all of him. Of course, the biggest reason right then that Pumbaa had no idea of how he was being spied upon was because he was simply enjoying himself too much as he splashed around in the waterhole.

Pumbaa's scent was the one part of him that had been intolerable. Even with that underlying musky odor that Nala had originally found so compelling, smelling as rank and overpowering as Pumbaa did when he'd first left the jungle was simply unacceptable to the refined noses of the lionesses of Pride Rock. Fortunately, when Nala had explained the idea of bathing to him (something warthogs apparently simply never considered; possibly a cultural lack), he'd immediately become enamored of the water. And of soap! And of baths. Now he made sure to enjoy a nice, thorough splash-'n-scrub at least once a week, with quick dips almost every day, and the most odious parts of his odor were a thing of the past.

The cloying, tantalizing musk of his potent, overpowering masculinity, though, stayed.

Nala curled her upper lip as she eyed Pumbaa bending over, rubbing soap down his stubby, thick-muscled legs, making his balls thrust almost straight out behind him. Her flehmen sent a jolt of raw pheromones straight to her brain, leaving her mind reeling, her eyes rolling back into her head for a moment as she fought to regain her senses, a powerful twitch_in her belly almost doubling her over as her womb cried out for the attentions of what her instincts immediately recognized as exactly what she needed. She had no new defenses against someone so primaly, primitively _male, not even after her own experiences with Simba before he'd left with Timon on yet another diplomatic mission, this one to find some allies against the rising threat of the Outlanders. No way to defend herself against the needs of her body, not when she was so neglected right then, and right before her was...oh Great Kings of old...

Months. Simba had been occupied with diplomatic trips for months! His daughter, Kiara (at least Nala was fairly sure Simba was the father...though Scar was a potent_beast), had already started to blossom into young womanhood, and was spending more and more time away from the rest of the Pridelanders, desperate for some sort of relief, relief that her father should have provided to her. As for the other lionesses, they weren't doing any better than either Kiara or Nala herself, each of them having endured numerous heat cycles, cycles that had come and then gone, leaving them with a deep, primal _ache in their bellies, an ache that the Lion King was supposed to fill. The pleasures of Lesbos had helped, of course, with lionesses quietly slipping away in pairs and trios (this was a trick Scar had taught all of them, originally for his own entertainment, but it certainly had uses now that he was gone), but such disappearances were hardly helpful at a time like this, when all of the lions of Pride Rock should be united against the Outlanders. What they all needed was a powerful, dominant male, one who could tame them, put them all in their place, and make them serve his will. Of such dominance was a pride born.

Thoughts such as these racing through her head, Nala crept steadily closer, and closer still to the waterhole where Pumbaa was happily splashing around, water running down his plump, squat, solidly-muscled body. He was hardly a symbol of masculine beauty, that much was obvious at a glance. Not like Simba, with his lovely face and gentle features, his musculature sleek and flawless as a god. But Pumbaa was brutally muscled, vastly more so now after all the hard work he'd done to improve Pride Rock than he'd been when Nala had first met him. Back then, he'd been an unstoppable force once he'd gotten started in a charge, his only weakness when he was at rest and unaware, caught off-guard by an ambush. Now...now, Nala wasn't at all sure that she could actually overpower such a massive boar. He looked almost as powerful as a hippopotamus, with legs like stubby tree trunks, and biceps that bulged with every movement of his arms as he rinsed off the soap he'd lathered over his body, especially that hefty musclegut with its sixpack-over-keg appearance.

Where he differed from a hippo, though, was in his perpetually cheerful expression. At first, as she'd crouched in the underbrush, Nala had actually been intimidated by Pumbaa, fearing what he might _do_to her if she dared to try and pounce him now. With so much added muscle, he could easily overpower her, and immediately memories of her first sexual experience flashed into her mind.

Mmm, you taste truly heavenly, little Nala. Did you enjoy that? You're not telling me to stop anymore, I notice. Come now, why don't you look at me when I'm speaking to you...that's a good girl...

_ _

...mmm, your lips are as sweet as the ones below. Now, let's test your tightness with a finger. Just one for now. Just relax. That's it...good girl. Very gooood. And now a second...and now...

_ _

Hush...hush...the pain will pass. Bite down on this bone. Grit your teeth. No more pain? Excellent. Then we shall continue...

Eventually he'd fallen asleep. Of course, Nala had fallen asleep first, but that just meant that she was the first to wake, giving her the opportunity she needed to escape, and then to look for the true Lion King. Except what good was a king who didn't fulfill his duties to his pride? Simba had been there sometimes, and yet he always seemed so awkward around the lionesses, so hesitant when he was being romanced by anyone besides Nala herself. His efforts were certainly not helped by his rather average lionhood, especially when compared to his vastly more sizable father, or even the recently-deposed Scar. And compared to someone like Pumbaa...!

Then inspiration struck with a flash, right when her eyes settled on Pumbaa's immense, rust-furred ostrich eggs once more: there was a reason Simba always took Timon with him when he went on those diplomatic missions, and not one of his lionesses. He'd grown up around males, and only males, right into puberty and his full sexual awakening. Naturally, with a sly mover like Timon around, he'd almost certainly been introduced to sex by his companions. Pumbaa wouldn't take advantage of the young lion's naiveté, sweet and gentle as he was...but Timon certainly would. And did! Of that Nala suddenly become certain, and of the continued bond between Lion King and meerkat rogue.

Instead of being angered or disgusted by the mental image this realization brought to her mind, Nala licked her lips, aroused even more than she'd been by the simple visual stimulation of watching Pumbaa taking his bath. After all, lionesses couldn't afford a lot of jealousy in a pride, or their way of life would start to fall apart rather quickly. All Simba's "preferences" really meant, as far as she was concerned, was that she now understood what was really keeping him from attending to the needs of his pride. And if he had a limitation, well, there was a fine and highly virile male right there before her, obviously more than sufficiently equipped to attend to Nala's needs...hmm, and perhaps the needs of a few others in the pride as well, if she could help them work their minds around the thought.

Standing up from her hiding place, Nala waded into the water behind the bathing warthog. He stiffened at her touch, his mouth dropping as he glanced over one shoulder, and realized who it was that had decided to join him in the bath. Instantly - adorably! - his huge hands went to more-or-less try and cover his boarhood, while his ruddy-furred cheeks grew just a little bit darker in color.

"Um, Nala...?" he started to ask, and Nala couldn't resist biting her lower lip at the sound of that husky, gravely voice, both her hands going to his shoulders as she felt his bristly black hair tickling her chest.

"Hello, Pumbaa," she very nearly literally purred, leaning over the somewhat shorter male, letting her full, plush breasts squeeze against the back of his head. "Want some help washing your back?"

"Oh no, Your Highness, Miss Nala," Pumbaa immediately replied, as respectful as ever; he thought he knew his place in life, as a mere humble jungle warthog; Nala, however, knew better. "I'm just about finished here, actually, so if you wanna use thewaterhole..."

"What about your front?" Nala asked next, as though Pumbaa hadn't said a thing, her clawtips teasing through the short fur of his thick, barrel chest, her sultry smile widening when she felt him shiver as she teased the almost invisible little nubs of his nipples. "Soap and water are nice, but all lions know that there's nothing quite like," she leaned closer, letting her hot breath tease his ear, "a tongue bath."

"Uh..um...you...I..." stammered the warthog, his eyes wide, mouth gaped open, body frozen into immobility...but not quite all of him, Nala noted, her own eyes widening as Pumbaa's covering hands, formerly not quite enough for the task assigned to them, suddenly became utterly inadequate as the boar's sheath began to swell. "That is...well, you know...I mean..."

Ignoring the babble coming from the bashful boar's mouth, Nala used her feline suppleness to its best effect, curling around his body even as she crouched, ending up on her knees in front of him. He shut up completely (though his mouth stayed open, thick tusks gleaming with a good polishing that he must have given them before she arrived) when she cupped those weighty orbs she'd been admiring for so long in both her hands, her lips forming an awestruck "Ooh" as she gently nuzzled his hands aside, letting her properly take in all of him.

"What about Simba?!"

The question came as a last-gasp defense, probably the very last thing Pumbaa had in his arsenal of delays and distractions (he was rather simple of mind, after all; not stupid, surprisingly, but he tended to think in straight lines). It was a pretty good question, though: Pumbaa would never betray a friend. Nala knew this, too, and her face took on a thoughtful expression, even as she wrapped one hand lightly around the rapidly-extending pink length that emerged from Pumbaa's sheath, cocking her head slightly as she considered it closely.

"It's like a corkscrew at the tip!" she finally giggled in delight, before she lifted her green eyes to meet Pumbaa's dark brown ones. "What about him, Pumbaa?"

"Well, he's the King...and you're kinda the Queen...or one of 'em...and you're kinda his lady, and I wouldn't wanna..."

"Pumbaa," Nala said, the one word enough to shut him up...well, that and a light squeeze at the base of his exquisitely thick shaft, its veins standing out proudly as they pumped copious thick, rich heartblood into that towering length, readying it for what his instincts knew were its proper purpose, however much his head might be resisting, for now. "Do you know how many times Simba has mated me?" She waited until he shook his head, then released his penis and sac, only to grip her breasts in both hands, leaning forward as she squeezed him snugly into the channel between them. "Let me see...one," she drew out the word as she arched her whole body into the action, pressing herself right down to the base of his piggy prick. "Two...three...and four as well," she continued stroking him between her breasts, making sure to feed the pulsing screw-tip of his glans into her mouth, her cheeks bulging a bit with the effort every time she got her breasts back down to his sheath, before letting him 'pop' free, shaft glistening with her saliva, making the next stroke that much easier. "Those were all back in the jungle," she explained, still rubbing her body against Pumbaa's cock, but also still taking her time. "Once in my mouth, twice in my pussy...and once in my butt!"

Giggling like a naughty cub, Nala shuddered as she pinched her nipples, then took Pumbaa's penis almost two-thirds of the way into her muzzle, until he was tickling the back of her throat, setting off her gag reflex if she wasn't careful - and that was as far as she felt she dared to go!

"Mwah," she mouthed as she popped her lips free of Pumbaa's copiously-leaking cock, her eyes shining as she looked up at him, still continuing her slow and steady boob job. "You two must have taught him pretty well: I was an anal virgin when he started work on me with his fingers, and then his mouth. Now I guess I'm kind of a tail slut! Hmm," she looked thoughtful, the expression actually kind of comical when it kept getting blocked from Pumbaa's sight every time she bobbed her body downward. "I'll bet Kiara could be trained to enjoy anal sex at least as much as I do...ngh," she winced, pinching her nipples again as she shuddered all over. "Ever since I got pregnant with her, my breasts have been so sensitive, Pumbaa. And ever since my first time having sex, my whole body has had a craving for it, a deep, desperate need like you can't possibly imagine. What number are we up to now?"

Blinking, Pumbaa gulped.

"I really dunno, your highness," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "I kinda lost track around number twenty or so."

"Well, it wasn't that many times," Nala declared, coming to a sudden stop and sitting back on her haunches, grinning mischievously up at the hefty warthog. "And that's the problem, Pumbaa: a Lion King is supposed to sexually satisfy the lionesses in his pride, but Simba just hasn't. All the lionesses of Pride Rock are so, so needy, so aching and desperate now, we can hardly think straight! And now our lands keep getting raided by these Outlanders, and there's talk of lions among those saucy renegade females, lions who might challenge Simba for his position and throw the whole Pridelands back into the same mess we were in with Scar. We can't afford to be distracted, Pumbaa, but we can't be anything but distracted when our lion is so far away, day after day, and doesn't pay us much attention even when he's back...and there's this big, well-endowed, incredibly virile male who parades around in front of us day after day, wearing nothing but a loincloth that shows a lot more than it conceals."

"Oh!" Pumbaa exclaimed, looking bashful again, looking down at the immense, ropey-veined pink organ jutting out from his sheath - as though he were ashamed of such a magnificent manhood! "I'm really sorry about that, Miss Nala. I'll be sure to get a longer one as soon as I can find..."

Rising back to her feet, Nala cut off Pumbaa's words with her lips against his. For a moment Pumbaa's whole body seized up at first, but only for a short moment. Then his hands lifted, the thick fingers sinking into Nala's nicely-rounded rump, then pulling her close against him.

"You're not betraying Simba," Nala said, her cheeks flushed, whiskers splayed wide, eyes dilated as she panted for breath after they broke the kiss, resting her hands on his chest even as he gradually moved his hands to her hips. "You're helping him fulfill the one part of his duties that he just can't. I'm afraid you and Timon have spoiled him." She looked down at the proud porcine penis squeezed against her tummy, then giggled, licking her chops as she looked back into Pumbaa's eyes. "Not that I can blame him!"

Taking a half-step back, Nala took that heavy organ in her hands, marveling at its sheer size, its thickness, its heft. If she hadn't given birth, she might have been a bit intimidated by a prick easily two or maybe even three times Simba's dimensions. Hmm, and speaking of birth, could Pumbaa get her pregnant? The two-legged inhabitants of the savannah tended to keep to their own kind for the most part (even friendships like those between Simba and Timon and Pumbaa was rather odd), so she didn't really have enough of a sample to say for sure. Even when the hyenas would sate their lusts on the lionesses Scar gave them, their squeals filling the air for miles as they were gangbanged by the constantly horny, spotty brutes, Shenzi made sure she was the one to penetrate their pussies if the lioness in question was actually in heat at the time, leaving tailhole and muzzle free for the use of her packmates. Perhaps she knew something Nala didn't?

Mental images of herself and every lioness on Pride Rock - even her own daughter! - sporting a plump, pregnant tummy and heavy, milk-leaking breasts when Simba returned made Nala's legs tremble with arousal, forcing her to sit down on a flat rock near the edge of the little waterhole. This put her at a perfect level with Pumbaa's cock, and without even thinking about it, she once again popped the strangely spiraled tip into her mouth.

"Mmm," she moaned to herself happily, one hand reaching out to fondle the heavy, dark red balls, making the big pig suck in breath sharply when she gave them a gentle squeeze, shuffling his surprisingly dainty feet as he did a two-step closer to Nala, giving her more access. "You taste so good, Pumbaa," she purred, her other hand stroking his shaft as she paused to look up at him, her green eyes dilated with her eagerness, drunk on arousal. "I want to taste your cum."

Not saying anything - really, what was there to say to something like that? - Pumbaa just stood there, watching Nala greedily bob her head, taking almost two-thirds of him every few forward-and-back thrusts. More than once she almost choked herself, she was so hungry for pig cock! Looking down, Pumbaa's gaze looked down into Nala's bright green eyes, heavy-lidded and sultry when she looked up at him, then wide and kittenish as she lowered them to focus on just how much thick, hot pork she had in her muzzle. Then his gaze shifted back, to her flawless, heart-shaped hiney, its shape accentuated by her lashing tufted tail, which flicked contentedly with every bob of her head, every sweet, eager, desperately aroused moan.

Suddenly something broke inside Pumbaa. He could feel the moment, knew when he'd suddenly cracked through the shell of gentleness that normally covered all his actions. Left to itself, a warthog was a pretty docile sort of creature, unassuming and not really interested in bothering others; social, even, around the right sort of company. But when aroused...ah, when aroused...a warthog was one of the most fierce and feared creatures anywhere!

Nala felt the change, too. Felt it just a moment before Pumbaa's big, thick, heavily-calloused hands came down on her head, gripping her, taking charge of her movements. The sense of losing power, of having it taken from her, of being dominated by a brutal, powerful male shocked through the golden-furred lioness like a bolt of lightning, her tail sticking straight out behind her as she gave a muffled cry, a short, quick, but no less powerful orgasm shaking her to the core. Now her hands went to Pumbaa's hips, half-resting there, half-pressing against him, as though she could somehow hold him back, her eyes turning upward, pleading with him silently not to hurt her, to be a kind master. And that's what he was now: her master, and she was his slave, utterly and completely at his mercy.

Letting his tusks jut out as he curled his upper lip, Pumbaa didn't bother with mercy. Grunting with exertion, he began to hump poor Nala's muzzle, one hand keeping his possessive grip right between her ears, the other cupping her jaw, ensuring that she kept her lips tense and tight for him. His bestial, deep-throated grunts loud in her ears, Nala moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head as she felt Pumbaa's immense balls slapping her chin again and again as he began to speed up, not caring how he made her eyes tear up every time he tickled the back of her throat; and why should he care?! She...was...his!

Eyes widening, Nala suddenly began to struggle against Pumbaa's grip as she felt the first splash of thick, potent boar cum against the back of her throat. He was going to drown her! No, master, no...please...don't...I can't...can't breathe...oooh!

All will left her to resist then, and with it the brief panic that had shaken her. Accepting her fate, Nala's throat relaxed, and she began to swallow gulp after hefty gulp of delicious cum, her eyes closing in utter and abject submission. Yes, this felt right, submitting to the lusts of such a potent male presence. This was where she belonged, her belly already feeling nice and warm with her stiff, thick protein-rich drink.

Pulling back, Pumbaa surprised Nala, her eyes going wide, then crossing comically as he splattered a stray shot of cum across the bridge of her nose. A flick of her pink tongue took care of that, of course, but then the warthog's hand was on her shoulder, and she could feel his astonishing, overwhelming strength gently overpowering her, body and will alike.

"I'm gonna put some piglets in you, Nala," Pumbaa almost growled, his voice was so rough and gravely, even more than usual. "Then I'm gonna show you how I wrecked your hubby's tailhole, after Timon loosened him up for me."

Now that was a potent mental image! Lying back on the soft grass next to the waterhole, Nala looked up at the dominant male with a sultry expression, the same one she'd once used to seduce Simba back in the jungle. That Look had the same effect on Pumbaa that it did on Simba, and instantly he was on her, grabbing her legs behind her knees and spreading them wide. Unlike Simba, however, who'd been a virgin with females, besides being young and overeager, and simply thrust himself into Nala's soaking wet cunny (and it had been fortunate for their shared pleasures that she'd already been so aroused before he'd entered her), Pumbaa snuffled around Nala's cunny, then licked his chops hungrily, looking up at Nala's face with an eager grin.

"You smell yummy, Nala!" he declared. Before Nala could reply to this compliment, though, he was on her, just plowing into her with all the gusto of a pig at a trough! The slurping as he almost literally_gobbled_ on her pussy, licking and nibbling and gnawing and sucking and...and...and...oh Great Kings of Old, there was just too much stimulation! It was too much!

"Please, Pumbaa!" Nala tried to beg, but his tongue only hit her G-spot on one of his outward-pulling motions, and her words were cut off with a wild scream, her juices squirting forcibly right into his eager mouth. And he was still eating her out! He was relentless! "NYAAAA!"

She was still bucking, her whole body arched like a bow strung taut, when Pumbaa crawled over her, using his greater mass to force her legs up, gripping her ankles with one thick-fingered hand, using them to pin her to the grass as she continued to squirm and yowl uncontrollably in the aftershocks of the last series of orgasms he'd forced on her. His mouth and chin still glistening with Nala's juices, Pumbaa just grinned down at her, admiring his handiwork for a moment, all while stroking his prick meditatively. Then he sidled his hips forward just a bit, until the very tip of his corkscrew penis was nudging at the entrance of her cunny...and then gave just a little _nudge_forward.

"OoooOOOOH!" the golden-furred lioness squealed, her green eyes going comically wide, her mouth forming a perfect "O" as her inner walls almost immediately began to greedily clench down on the few fingerspans the big pig had stuck into her. "P-PumbaaaAAAAIIIIIIEEE!"

Smiling pleasantly, Pumbaa easily gyrated his hips as he thrust them forward and down, letting the muscular screwing action of his penis work with his own motions to grind against all of Nala's inner places. While she might have been made by nature to take a lion's spines, a pig penis was something else entirely, and Nala was already bucking with all her might under him before he was even halfway inside, trying to push against his chest with her hands, the motions feeble, lacking any strength, robbed of energy by the orgasms blasting her mind and body. Then, as the glans of Pumbaa's cock tickled against the gates of her cervix, its length coiled perfectly against her A-spot, just a moment before his immense balls slapped loudly against her rounded, muscular rear, driving just the very tip of his penis directly into her womb, making her breasts bounce upward before they jiggled back down in the most delightfully eye-catching ways.

Using his body to hold Nala in place, her ankles resting on his shoulders, her arms pinned by her own knees, Pumbaa amused himself by grabbing hold of those fine, full mammaries, kneading and then mauling them in his thick-calloused hands, and finally squeezing them until her nipples stood out almost painfully erect from her aureoles, and started too...was that milk? Yes, they were leaking milk! Mmm, fresh and sweet, Pumbaa quickly decided, engulfing one fat tit in his huge mouth, tugging and slurping greedily, all the while never once stopping his rapidfire tattoo of balls-on-butt, groin-on-groin, never giving Nala a moment to recover her wits, to perhaps start to think. And with him sucking on her breasts, now switching over to the other as one started to slow its milk flow a little...no, it was just too much for her to bear. Too much for any lioness to bear!

Though Timon tended to prefer males, both he and Pumbaa had a lot of experience with both sexes, mostly the smaller and weaker two-legged "prey" people that were on the run from the more vicious predatory two-leggers, either leopards or hyenas typically. All they had to do was step in at the right moment and help the poor fleeing prey to escape, and then it was just a matter of Timon's smooth-talking before they'd both end up balls deep in a wriggly little impala or gazelle, or even once a lovely young cheetah babe they'd freed from a small pack of hyenas who'd turned away to start a fire to cook the tied-up cutie. Well, actually it was usually Pumbaa who ended up nailing the girls they saved (though Timon liked to watch), while they both shared the boys, sometimes for days at a time. That much time was rather necessary, actually, because Pumbaa's sexual stamina was almost limitless. After Pumbaa finished with any sex partner less energetic than Timon, most of them had to crawl out of the jungle, their legs simply unable to bear them up anymore.

As Nala was rapidly discovering for herself.

Well past the point of any coherence, Nala was babbling to Pumbaa, saying something about how it was so good, so much, too much, how her body was on fire, how she couldn't feel her legs, how her breasts ached, and so forth, words that had simply lost meaning, and which she was simply saying because, well, it was something to occupy her in between orgasms. Suddenly, then, Pumbaa started to speed up, his grunts of exertion deep-throated in Nala's ear as he squished her breasts against his chest, squeezing their bodies tightly together.

"I'm gonna cum in you, Nala," Pumbaa got out, his voice tense. "Gonna squirt right in your womb. And then you're gonna have my piglets."

"Y-yes," gasped Nala breathlessly, claws gouging the dirt to either side of her splayed-out body.

"Then, when we're all done, you're gonna give me your mommy, and Simba's mommy, and I'm gonna make them both mommies again."

SLAP!

"Yes!" Nala cried as his sac smacked loudly against her taut buns, making her tail stand straight out on the ground, her tuft at the end bushed up with the shock of sensation.

"Then you're gonna bring me your naughty daughter, Kiara," Pumbaa urged. "And I'm gonna teach her lots of discipline. I'm gonna give her a baby of her own to take care of: that should slow her down some!"

"Knock up the whole pride!" Nala enthused, her nipples rasping against Pumbaa's bristly fur, setting off sparks of sensation all up and down her spine. "Train us all to be good little tailsluts!"

"Ooh yeah!" Pumbaa suddenly grunted, deep and loud, and an instant later Nala was screaming, her feet kicking in the air to either side of Pumbaa's hips as she felt his cum_gushing_ into her, straight into her womb, the penetration of her cervix ensuring that nothing stood between her ready eggs and his vigorous sperm! He was going to give her a litter at this rate!

But would they be a litter of lion cubs...or warthog piglets?

As Pumbaa slowly slid free of Nala's well-creamed cunny, her whole body went limp, as though his cock inside of her had been the plug keeping her energized. Looking down at his handiwork, he couldn't help but grin widely: he'd really done a number on the mighty (and incidentally very gorgeous) queen of the lions! Her eyes were more-or-less open, but he was pretty sure she wasn't seeing much besides stars and tweety birds right then. She certainly wasn't able to muster up any energy to stop him as he rolled her over onto her tummy, slipping a nearby old dry log under her tummy to get her sweet, toned tushie thrust up in the air for him. If he was going to get to work, after all, he liked to have a properly-prepared operating surface. In this case, Nala's tight pink tailhole.

Blinking, Nala slowly became aware of roughly-calloused, and yet lovingly careful hands kneading her shoulders. She moaned softly, arching her body slightly upward into those lovely palms as they gradually worked their way down her upper back...and then her lower back...and then...her bottom?

Turning her head, Nala's mouth dropped open as she watched Pumbaa spreading her buns, her tail flicked casually to one side. Instantly, she felt the searing heat of his breath on her vulnerable anal rosette, and couldn't resist a soft, mewling whimper. She also, incidentally, couldn't resist the twitch that came unbidden to her inner thighs, her juices starting to flow once more, joining the copious mess Pumbaa had left behind: she hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said she was a tail slut!

The moment his tongue touched the tight-clenched ring of her tailhole, Nala sucked in breath with a sharp hiss, her whole body jerking slightly. Pumbaa paused for a moment, looking up, but Nala only gave him an encouraging smile and nod to go on: she wanted this, even though she knew it was going to be pretty intense. No, she wanted this because she knew it was going to be intense! Smiling himself, no longer feeling any need to hold back, Pumbaa got to work with all the gusto of any pig enjoying himself to the fullest, his tongue first teasing against Nala's little crinkles, and then wriggling against them, spreading them open, letting him work his way inside, all the better to properly prep her for bigger things to come.

"Pumbaa!" Nala got out through gritted teeth, reaching back to cup her mound. "Just like that, Pumbaa! Just like...ngh!"

"Wow," laughed Pumbaa, lifting his head to grin at the lioness, before he straightened up behind her, shafting himself slowly in one meaty fist. "Not even that skinny cheetah babe me'n Timon reeled in that one time loved anal like you, Nala. You just came, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she almost whispered in response, picturing her precious daughter's absolutely priceless expression when she'd get her first tailfull of thick, juicy boarcock. Just like mommy.

"Guess it'd be kinda mean of me if I made you wait much longer, huh?" he continued, and Nala cooed eagerly as she felt the tip of that wonderful cock of his prodding her delicate pink passage.

"Yeah," she got out breathily, panting hard now, almost hyperventilating with anticipation.

"Okay, Nala," Pumbaa declared, his thick-fingered hands suddenly seizing her upturned tushie, gripping and squeezing and then spreading her buns with just the right amount of roughness. "Better hold on tight, 'cause this is gonna be a wild ride!"

As it turned out, the corkscrew spiral at the tip of Pumbaa's penis was almost perfectly suited for the task of sodomy: rather than just plowing in like a battering ram, like the pricks of most males, it insinuated itself inside Nala's clenching pucker, giving her some perfectly natural time to adjust that was an inherent part of porcine physiology. Of course, past the tip Pumbaa was just thick, and Nala couldn't stop from roaring, her claws leaving deep gouges in the turf as she unconsciously tried to dig her way forward. Giving a snort, Pumbaa just grabbed Nala's tail in one hand, catching her hip with the other, and hauled her back, just as his hips surged forward, meeting her buns with a loud smack! that felt as loud as her roar, her bottom bouncing buoyantly with the impact.

That grip on her tail was what did it for her most! Not letting up, Pumbaa used her tailbase like a handle, keeping Nala's tushie upturned, hauling on it roughly, twisting it just so, stimulating all the sensitive nerves that connected all the bits down there, from the base of her spine to her smooth anal muscles and far more besides. His other hand, meanwhile, went back to squeezing and kneading her bum, keeping her cheeks spread wide, letting him look down at his handiwork, at how thoroughly he was splitting the lion queen's rump, stretching her right to her physical limits. At least that's what it looked like, with all the wrinkles of her pink rosebud completely vanished now, gone smooth with far too much stretching.

"Pumbaa," Nala whimpered as he stopped just admitting the view, and started to move his hips, a bit slow at first, fighting through the inherent tightness of Nala's rapidly-clenching rump. "Pumbaa, please...please, I...I...oh! Ooooh!"

"Do it, Nala!" Pumbaa enthused, his tail hiking almost straight up, his solid butt tense as his heavy balls swung back and forth, smacking loudly, wetly against the lioness' cunny and coming away soaked in her juices, every impact sending tremors through her body, like the jolts before an earthquake strikes. "You don't gotta hold back: I want you to cum!"

Was she going to beg him for mercy? Or was she going to beg him to rut her harder? Nala wasn't really sure anymore. Everything was starting to go all fuzzy around the edges, her mind blowing out, piece by piece, pleasure bursting through all the rational bits of her brain, redistributing all her higher functionality to the purpose of feeding her more pleasure.

When Pumbaa _did_start humping Nala harder, that made all rational thought a moot point.

Roaring long and loud, again and again, Nala's whole body went rigid, the muscles of her shapely body standing out clearly, bottom tense, belly rippled, its washboard shape standing out clearly. Of course every slap of hefty hips against tawny rump made the lioness' full breasts swing forward and back, making them feel so heavy, so full...and knowing that before too long they would be full again, swollen with the milk for whatever babies would be born of this union, was the final breaking point for poor Nala. Instead of a roar, her final cry was an almost pitiful mewl as her head sank to the grassy sward. Pumbaa's own throaty cry of orgasm, more vocal than the simple grunt of before, echoed in Nala's ears as she let her eyes close, a sweet, satisfied smile spreading across her face as she let the warmth of his cum seep into her deepest parts.

Of course they did it many times after that. Warthogs and lionesses alike are well-equipped for multiple sessions of lovemaking, with adequate rest periods in between, of course. By the time sunset finally began to settle over the savannah, its last rays found Pumbaa spooned up behind Nala, his shaft still snugly in place deep within her quim. That had been Nala's idea, in the hopes of helping them both have erotic dreams about each other...or perhaps share them together.

This was how Sarabi and Sarafina found them when they came creeping quietly through the tall grass, Sarafina concerned about her daughter's safety when she didn't return around dinnertime, and Sarabi always happy to help out her dearest friend, as well as being quite fond of "little Nala" herself, seeing herself as the lion queen's loving auntie, as well as being her mother-in-law (or the rough equivalent, considering the nature of a pride's harem).

"Well," Sarabi said after the two lionesses observed the quite gooey, yet strangely adorable scene of the two lovers cuddling together in the tall grass near the waterhole. "At least we know she's safe."

"We can use warthogs for sex?" Sarafina asked nobody in particular, blinking as the concept started to trickle its way into her grey matter. "Why didn't anybody tell me about this before?"