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Under the Lion King

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Bengalic Tigeran

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Mowgli grunted, his face pressed into the dirt of the jungle floor. Above him, Bagheera yowled, forepaws hooked around the man’s hips as he rounded his back, driving a barbed cock deep into Mowgli’s rump. The feline panted over Mowgli’s hunched shoulders and upper back, eyes flashing as their joined activity startled birds of paradise from the trees in a flurry of colour. Yet even their beauty could not distract the coupling duo from raw, carnal lust.

Moaning, Mowgli grasped his cock, leaning heavily on his left shoulder, which bore the brunt of his and Bagheera’s weight as he pumped its length in time with Bagheera’s thrusts the best he could. It was difficult to think clearly, brain fogging over with memories mingled with raw, unbridled sensation. He groaned and pushed back against his partner as much as he could, tasting Bagheera’s cum still on his lips as he remembered another time with another feline.

For Bagheera had not been Mowgli’s first. No – Mowgli had travelled before becoming a man, strong and growing muscle day by day as he challenged his body in the jungle. He was a man now, that was true, yet had been made so by a lion in his days as a maturing young adult. His eyes misted over, vision hazy, as he recalled the massive tawny stomach of a lion with only a small mane, still growing into his adult body, pushing over his back to claim him. The lion had growled and closed his jaws possessively around his neck, though Mowgli had never one had cause to fear for his life – not with him.

Mowgli howled through his orgasm, jerking his cock madly, all the while imagining the king of the savannah thrusting into him, claiming him with each and every thrust. And, as he came, Bagheera hissed loudly in his ear, a shudder running through his whole body to the tip of his fluffed up tail, cock spurting rope after rope of virile seed into his passage. Mowgli’s chest heaved as he pushed himself up weakly from the ground, fingers pressing into the soft, yielding dirt that streaked his bare chest and legs.

The panther pulled out with a growl, too sensitive to stay inside his partner for long after orgasm, and dropped to the dirt, mouth open in a happy pant.

“Bagheera?” Mowgli groaned, rolling onto his back as his softening cock flopped onto his thigh, relaxing in the afterglow. “Bagheera?”

The Black Panther blinked languidly and yawned, showing a pink gape of the inside of his mouth. Yet Mowgli could feel no fear from the panther who had been by his side since he was just a man-cub. The panther eyed him lazily.

“What is it, Mowgli?”

He rested his head on Mowgli’s stomach, his eyes warm. As much as Mowgli had disrupted his life – changed it entirely, in fact – in his younger years, he defended the man fiercely still. Love would have been too strong a word for their relationship, but they had a bond and it was as partners of sorts they would remain.

“Do you think...” He struggled to find the words, swimming back to the surface after being swamped by memory. “Do you think I’ll be able to find Simba again? If I tried, I mean?”

The panther raised his head, yellow eyes glimmering, although he didn’t seem surprised in the slightest at the question, which could not have been anticipated. Bagheera frowned, lips turning down.

“Why ever would you want to find him, Mowgli?” The panther tilted his head to the side, tail lashing the air. “You have a life here. You have friends here. Why would you possibly want to travel to the savannah again when you have all that you need right here? The jungle provides.”

Mowgli sighed and put his hands behind his head, staring up through the canopy of trees to where sunlight glinted through the canopy high above. Bagheera turned his head to lick himself clean as his shaft slowly retreated back into the fluff that covered the slit that concealed his cock when he wasn’t around, a tiny tuck of flesh held up close to his body as if it didn’t want to be on show at all.

His friend took a while to answer, letting the wind ruffle his black hair from his shoulders, which were rounding out nicely with all the climbing through the trees he was doing. Bagheera’s tail twitched. If he continued going higher and higher, one day, he’d fall and never get back up again. But Mowgli would not be restrained.

“Could you help me?” Mowgli tried to act like he didn’t care, even giving a little roll of his shoulders, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, not really. “I just feel...” He shook his head. “It’s what I need to do. I need to see him again.”

He spread his hands apart.

“Do I need to explain it any more than that? That’s all there is to it.” His lips turned down as if he expected to be denied. “Take it or leave it. That’s all I’ve got, Bagheera, no grand scheme. I only want to see him again.”

Sighing, Bagheera slumped back to his chest, grumbling softly as he threw a paw over the human’s stomach. Mowgli grinned and stroked his ears, eyes sparkling with the hint of adventure as his cock twitched, pulsing with blood as he, once more, lost himself in memories. Such wonderful memories...

“Yes, we may find your friend...your first, Mowgli. Though I will never understand why.”

“For now, we rest. Come tomorrow, we shall travel.”

*

The journey to the Pride Lands was uneventful, at least by their standards. Too large now to ride on Bagheera’s back, Mowgli walked and ran alongside, skin glistening with sweat. Bagheera seemed to know everything about the land, though even his knowledge depleted the further they roamed, even if there were plenty of other animals around to ask for help. Mankind, however, they avoided, giving them the healthy respect and wide berth that they deserved and demanded. Mowgli shuddered. Their kind did not brag a path he’d ever want to follow.

Mowgli’s heart leapt as Pride Rock finally came into sight, their gruelling journey at an end at long last. He wasn’t sure for how long they had travelled, when it came to the end, but it had surely been more than far enough.

Stopping with Pride Rock in the distance, cutting a striking silhouette against the late afternoon sky, Mowgli threw his head back and shrieked for sheer, wild joy. Even Bagheera could not help himself and had to join in, springing up from the grass and twisting in midair like a gazelle caught by the tremor of the herd.

“Simba!”

Cupping his hands to his mouth, he filled his lungs with air and shouted the lion’s name over and over again, half-imagining he would appear from the long grass with a cocky smile on his muzzle. He wouldn’t have put it past the feline at the very least to try to pull one over on him.

“He’s not here, Mowgli,” Bagheera ushered him along, a paw in the small of his back as he rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to keep going.”

Mowgli did not reply, but leaned forward into the wind and ran as if his life depended on it, his only focus that of reaching Pride Rock. Bagheera huffed and sprang into a light lope at his side, long legs covering the ground in a stride that Mowgli could never hope to match. The terrain raced away beneath their feet and soon they found themselves, panting and out of breath, coming up the back of Pride Rock where the rock inclined up and up to the peak.

There he was. Mowgli’s breath caught in his throat, peering around an outcrop of rock to catch sight of Simba standing proudly on the spur, mane ruffled by the wind. An older version of him still, yes, but Simba all the same. There was no mistaking the lion.

His heart hammered and he was suddenly struck by the foolish thought that he could sneak up on his old friend, his first, but, as soon as his foot scuffed across the stone, the lion whirled to face him.

Simba widened his eyes and threw himself at Mowgli with a roar of welcome, tail lashing the air. The two collided, Mowgli burying his face in the lion’s mane as the massive feline wrapped a paw around his torso, dwarfing him as the human clutched at him in the dying glow of a crimson sunset. Keeping his distance, since he wouldn’t want to disturb the reunion or come on the bad side of a king of the savannah, Bagheera lingered on the edge of the shadows, eyes warily scanning the scene from rock to rock. The rest of the pride had to be near, after all.

“Why have you come here, Mowgli?” He asked, stepping back so that he could take in the man’s full measure. “It has been so long since I saw you last...”

He licked his lips and turned his head away, rounded ears flicking back in his thick mane. Bagheera’s lips twitched and the panther sat back on his haunches, watching and waiting with the patience of a stalking feline. He could only imagine what the lion remembered. Of course, he’d heard all the stories from Mowgli and each and every one made his cock throb with need. Though that would have to come later – at least for him.

“Maybe...” Mowgli blushed, though it was difficult to see through his tanned skin. “Maybe I’ve been thinking of you.”

Simba cocked his head, tail flicking in a wide sweep over the ground.

“You have been thinking of me? In what way? I would have thought you would have forgotten me after all this time.”

Mowgli swallowed the lump in his throat, blood pounding in his ears. It was now or never. Did he still dare? Would Simba reject him? There was only one way to find out and that would mean putting everything he held close and dear on the line.

“Maybe...” He had to stop starting sentences with that word. “Maybe it would be easier for me to show you?”

Simba didn’t have time to look confused as Mowgli dived under his stomach, running a soft hand down the lion’s flank. The lion shivered and mrowled softly under his breath, turning his head to follow the man as he leaned back against the inside of Simba’s leg and let his hand wander higher and higher, seeking what made his heart pound so delightfully. He slipped behind the lion as a shudder ran through Simba’s body and let his tail bat his chest as he cupped the lion’s balls, fondling them in both hands with a barely suppressed groan of raw desire.

“Oh...” Simba ducked his head, shivering under the sudden pleasure. “So that is what you meant!”

Mowgli chuckled, nuzzling his face into the lion’s soft, fuller orbs as a familiar shaft dropped into sight and his own hardened.

“I do not mean to be forward,” he whispered, throat husky. “But I have missed you so.”

Sucking in a breath, Mowgli stroked his cock, letting his tongue flick out and over the heavy pair of balls, held up close to the lion’s body, but full and full of heavy seed that he was sure the lion was simply aching to spill. Simba’s paws pricked out as he tried to knead the ground, head rolling back, body rippling into movement.

“Then who would I be to deny you,” Simba growled, stepping over Mowgli with a grin, “as King of the savannah?”

The lion’s shaft pressed to Mowgli’s lips as if the lion knew exactly how to position it so that he could not be tempted elsewhere, his attention solely on him. Groaning, Mowgli opened his mouth willingly and took him inside, one arm wrapped around the lion’s leg. The soft barbs pushed lightly over his tongue and he kept his mouth open as wide as possible as the lion pulled back with a low growl, careful to not allow them to tug over his tongue. He’d quickly learned in days gone by how rough a feline’s barbs could be if he allowed them to get out of place. But Bagheera had always been gentle with him.

He didn’t know if Simba would be as gentle.

The lion rumbled a growl above him, sides reverberating lightly, as Mowgli pressed his lips down over the fat length, tip nuzzling up to the back of his throat in an intimate kiss. The man moaned around his shaft, bobbing his head back and forth as if to mimic Simba’s thrusting as the lion hunched and rolled his own hips, gaining that extra little bit of depth and pleasure from Mowgli’s mouth. The lion clenched his jaw, tail lashing as he struggled to maintain his dignity. The human’s mouth was sweeter than his memories could ever have done justice to, even more delectable than those of his lioness’ – the ones he chose to make use of, at least.

But a lion had his needs to be taken care of too, and primal instinct could only be held at bay for so long.

Stepping back, Simba winked to his old friend, hide shivering as he purred and lifted one forepaw.

“Come here, Mowgli.”

There was a new air of command in the lion’s tone that Mowgli could not ignore and he scrambled to obey, on his hands and knees almost before the lion had even finished speaking. He knew what Simba wanted. He shivered, letting the lion step over him. Simba had always wanted one thing from him.

The lion’s shaft hung heavily over his backside as he positioned himself, scooping a paw under Mowgli’s stomach to get his tight hole up to the right height. Bracing himself, Mowgli tried to relax; the first thrust was always the hardest to bear and there would be no slickness to ease its burning path inside him.

Licking the back of Mowgli’s neck tenderly, the lion nudged the tip of his tapered cock at the man’s opening, bearing his weight down on it until it succumbed to him and he was permitted entry. Mowgli groaned and arched his back as he was penetrated, the full, thick length sliding deep into him – back where it belonged. Bagheera watched from the sidelines, half-turning away with his whiskers twitching and pink shaft ever so slightly protruding from the fur on his underbelly.

A small meerkat with a flaming tuft of orange-red atop his head peered out of the darkness of the lion den and stepped up to Bagheera’s side. The panther looked down at him warily, wondering if he was something the lions kept around in case they needed a quick snack, but made no move to take the small mammal for himself.

Whistling lowly, the meerkat threw his paws up and spun on the spot as if indignant that he had not been invited to join the fun. Bagheera shook his head and the smaller mammal tilted his head up with a grin as he caught the motion in the corner of his eye.

“Why don’t you get involved?” The meerkat said, digging his elbow lightly into Bagheera’s side. “Isn’t he your mate?”

Bagheera shook his head with a smile, whiskers quivering.

“No, but we are friends. Partners in our life in the jungle. I could not ask for more than that from Mowgli. And he would never ask more than that from me.”

The meerkat frowned.

“Well, there’s no reason you should be left out... Even if you are leaving them to it.”

Boldly nuzzling into the fur on the panther’s stomach, the meerkat sought out his shaft and wrapped his arms around the barbed length, letting it grow against him. Bagheera purred and half-closed his eyes, tail swishing lazily as he simply enjoyed the attention of a pair of willing paws pumping his length. It was almost as good as driving into Mowgli or feeling his sweet lips wrapped around his throbbing cock.

The lion matched the panther for his purrs, driving into his partner with an increasing level of reckless abandon. Instinct, after all, could not so easily be tamed for a king of the savannah and Simba pulled Mowgli back against him with a massive paw as he drove in, hindquarters working furiously to glean every drop of pleasure from the interlude. The lion’s breath washed hotly over the back of the man’s head and neck as his thrusts grew furious, driving brutally in to slap his own balls against his partner’s rump with every roll of his hips.

Mowgli cried out, twisting and willing his arms not to give out, barely held in place by the randy lion. Simba threw back his head and roared, the sound deafening and leaving Mowgli’s ears ringing as he rammed in. The lion’s shaft twitched and pulsed with cum, spurting deep into his partner as he sucked in a breath only to throw out his voice in yet another roar as if he wanted the whole of the Pride Lands to know exactly what he was doing.

Sensation crashed into desire for Mowgli and he howled as he climaxed without touching his own shaft, Simba’s length grinding up against that pleasurable spot inside him. His cock jerked and shot his load wildly, splattering the rock beneath them with a pitifully smaller load than what he was sure the lion was filling him with. Mowgli groaned and pushed back as Simba slowly stilled, panting heavily over the man’s head. Every breath made Mowgli’s hair waft up from his head, stirred up by the life of the great beast who had reclaimed him as his.

It was a good thing he’d asked Bagheera to take him back to see Simba after all, he thought, languishing in the daze of his afterglow. Mowgli grinned, pushing himself up on shaking arms to warm his back against the lion’s stomach as Simba nuzzled the mop of hair on his head. The rough tongue groomed him as the lion purred and he relaxed into the sound, cock softening as it hung down and the one stretching his ring slowly retreated.

Maybe he would stay with the lion just a little while longer . . .