A donkey stumbling home after a dose of his own potent moonshine finds hiccups are strangely erotic to his throbbing hard-on…
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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.
Yet there was something different happening there too, the hiccups coming in tandem directly with a strange rise that was lower than his belly, deep in his lower abdomen. But it was not normal, not for him, his shaft slipping from its sheath, pushing into his boxers, his loose jeans bulging out. They had seen better days, but the button, somehow, had not been done up last time he had taken a leak either at the get-together, his length rising, trying to seek some kind of freedom.
“Hey… Whoa…” James slurred, tail flicking back and forth, ears twitching, arousal warming him more than the moonshine even had. “What’s… Hic! Hic! What’s… Hic! All this about? Hic! Hic! Huh?”
His words did not make sense, not even to himself. His mind worked slowly, dully, turning over the same things, over and over again, reminding him of his need, his arousal, cock pushing out – just the tip. Yet the flat tip of a donkey dick was all that was needed sometimes, giggling and poking at it, so far gone that he was far from being in control of himself and his body even then.
No… No, control was not to be had right then and James relished in that without even knowing what he was doing. The hiccups were relentless, coming repeatedly, jolting his body, the tightness in his chest and belly barely given a moment of respite between them.
“Hic! Hic! Hic!”
The hiccups rose as if a word from his lips, yet the donkey’s arousal grew, cock throbbing, dripping a little, pre-cum spilling forth as if he was more turned on than ever before. Little did he know that those plants that he had added, and forgotten the names of, were also well known to others a little more intelligent than him for acting as aphrodisiacs, drawing on the male need and production, though it was a very individual thin on how much that was enhanced.
The donkey snorted, braying through hiccups, though they broke up the sound so that it was no longer one cry but as jostled and jerked about as his body. They came relentlessly, offering him no rest or respite, but they didn’t seem to be all that much of a problem any more as their jostling jolts made his cock throb more eagerly, pulsing and aching with arousal that could no longer be contained.
But something was wrong, seeing double, his cabin suddenly a lot smaller than he had remembered it to be as he leaned up against the door, blinking, shaking his head, though that only served to make the matter worse.
“What?”
He blinked, staring hard at the door. It was not his! It was the outhouse! The one that had been there for years, ever since grandpop had built it and dug the thing out! Oh, he was a silly donkey, giggling and hiccupping, his junk slipping out more and more, his cock on show, too close to the main road to be hidden away, though he couldn’t find the coordination in his limbs to tuck the length of his cock back in.
He staggered upright, sort of, yet the route from the outhouse to the cabin would put him on show – if anyone was nearby to see him, that was. The jury was out on whether anyone was passing by, however, and it was not as if that was something under James’ control. The donkey blinked and staggered, straining not to bray through his hiccups, his paw dropping, stroking his cock without thinking, teasing himself when he didn’t really need to be teased.
“Oh… Hic! Gawd… Hic!”
His cock was hard, too hard, so hard that he could barely believe it. All James could possibly think about was how hard he was, how turned on he was, fingers smearing crudely through his pre-cum and stroking it back down his length. He shook his head, though didn’t feel as if he straightened his back all that much, grunting and chuffing between hiccups.
Home. He had to get home, but it was easier to stroke his cock, to lean into that strange, hiccupping pleasure, the world tipping and swaying around him. Anyone that saw him would have seen that he was hopelessly out of his mind with drunkenness, though he was a happy drunk, yes, the kind that perhaps others would have liked to have around if his cock, to be fair, had been tucked away.
Truth be told, James had never been that hard before, not when he was so drunk, the thick meat of his cock practically begging attention. It drooled, a dark length that many had enjoyed the pleasures of already, but he stroked it with a large paw, staggering down the path, weaving back and forth, barely staying upright.
Well… He was not upright for long, falling to his knees, crawling, though his cock still bobbed and swung happily back and forth, giggling and hiccupping.
“Gotta get – hic! – home… Sit – hic! – down… Have – hic! – nice moon – hic! – shine!”
He didn’t really need any more to drink, but there was no telling his mind that as his jeans, loose enough as they were, slipped down his thighs a little more, exposing him, though his boxers hooked around one hip, keeping his nuts tucked away. He couldn’t even appreciate the modesty of that, for he was letting it all hang out otherwise, snorting and grunting, hiccupping rampantly, the ache in his cock too much for him.
Yet he had home in mind, his need high, curling through him, warm and teasing. His bed, yes, a drink, yes, that was what he needed, what he wanted. There were many comforts to be had in his home and he managed to get upright again, swaying back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.
“Home… Hic! Hic! Home… Moonshine… Hic! Hic!”
They came harder as he wobbled, though James could not stop his lips from stretching in his goofiest grin yet. The world may have tipped and swung around him as if it had a life of its own (it did, in all reality) but he was doing great, just great! The ache of his cock was satisfied with its swinging course back and forth, need rising and rising, throbbing through, the herbs doing their best work to him, even if he did not understand what they were or what they were doing to him.
James snorted and lipped the air, though his shaft felt quite as if he was slipping up against a partner, lust rising, though it was different too. As he stumbled and jolted himself on the path, finally, back up to his cabin, he grunted through his hiccups, his dick trembling, pointing forward, though his tight jeans around his thighs, exposing himself, made the act of walking more difficult all by itself.
Yet James did not have to understand for that bobbing, swaying stimulation to be enough, his hiccups sending wave after wave of unexpected pleasure through him, though it was all, very much, welcomed. What guy wouldn’t welcome it, after all? Thus it was, the donkey found himself short on breath, braying through his hiccups, his cock aching, balls tightening, finally sending a stream of cum pouring forth. It took his drunken mind a moment longer than it should have to register that he was climaxing, yet the ripping pull of his hiccups did not stop in the slightest, too turned on to walk straight, needing more, heat flushing through his body in a way that could not be stopped.
His paws had not even touched his cock at that height of pleasure, dropping to his knees, finally, before his door, cum streaming forth, spurt after spurt, painting the ground. It would seep into the dirt, where it landed, before morning came, the glow of fireflies in the air, the softness of the marsh easing around him, night birds waking with muted calls and warning larks. They had been startled from their roosts by the hiccupping donkey, yet James could not control himself, hiccupping and climaxing, ropes of cum send forth while untold pleasure gripped his body.
If he knew what plants he had added to his moonshine, the donkey would have surely done it again, but he would be left wondering why he was sticky with dried seed the next day, slumped down by his door. All James would remember would be that it had been one hell of a night!
Next time he hiccupped, however, his body would remember and his cock would throb, leading him down wicked paths of pleasure unlike ever before.
Moonshine, after all, was some powerful stuff!
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ojz300/moonshine_lust_and_hiccups_msolo_donkey_anthro