This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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The river moseyed along its way through the bayou, the marsh rising, peaty and soft, though it was ripe with life, even if a different kind of life to what the majority of the country cherished. There were still plenty of folk about there to enjoy it though, relaxing in the peaceful solitude, no one any more so than a particular donkey who went by James, always with a smile on his lips and bray of a greeting to say "hello" to anyone passing through, whether they wanted to see him or not.
His ears were long and a little rough around the edges, though there was a lot to be had in the donkey, his brown fur tapering through to grey shades. Everyone knew that James was a little on the slow side, if they were putting it politely, but there was not a gal in the little town that didn't know of the monster that hung between his lungs.
He staggered back from that very town, tottering on his hooves, staggering over himself, his shirt hanging open, revealing his bare chest, the softness of his gut there, the ease of being in his own body. James was far from unfit, but he was not obviously muscled, working for himself, maintaining his home, though what he had taken to a little get together had been a little stronger than he had expected. Everyone else had taken in it sparingly, politely, though his level of drunkenness, well...
James smiled, blinking at the path back up to his house, the empty flagon of moonshine clasped weakly in his right paw. What he'd adding into the mix had surely improved the flavour, but he couldn't seem to remember what he had put in there, hiccupping, clapping a paw over his lips, trying to keep them closed, though a giggle burst through with the next hiccup.
"Hic! I... Oh... Hic! Hic!"
It was good, very god, he could not deny that, but he couldn't see to keep the straight path up to his front door, the cabin well-maintained and very well looked after, straight under his hooves. When did it become so winding? The donkey staggered back and forth, zigzagging, hiccupping, the bubbles from his gut rising in such a way that they could not be held back -- and neither could his hiccups be stopped.
What was wrong with him? He'd never been that drunk, yet James could not even recognise it right there and then as he grunted and tried to seal away the hiccups, even as his body reacted, jerking, his diaphragm clenching with every jolt through his body. He tried though, oh, how he tried. It seemed to be the only thing he could do as he staggered and wavered, taking comically large, slow steps, senses dulled, the ground shaking and shifting, at least in his mind, under his hooves.
His hiccups though... They didn't seem anything like they had been before, bringing a pumping rise of heat to his body, skin tingling, tail lifting, his body reacting as if he had someone especially fine before him. James snorted, though could hardly get the utterance out, hips working back, tripping over his own hooves once again even as something thickened within his sheath.
"Whoa there... What's -- hic! -- gotten -- hic! -- into -- hic!"
He didn't even manage to finish his question, the flagon dropping from his paw, clanking beside his door, though he didn't make it inside either, leaning heavily against the frame, gulping, ears twitching with every hiccup.