Pumbaa had taken the day to lazaly relax under a secluded area, hidden behind a large waterfall that Timon and Simba didn’t know about. Even the large teen cat's nose would have a hard time finding him with through the mist of the rushing waters. The way the sun shined through the moving water was comforting and made the pudgy pig feel nothing but comfortable.

But he did have more than one reason to escape from his best buddies.

He knew that the main reason the falls were so powerful today was due to the storm that had covered the forest a few days ago. It was intense and lasted until just last night. Not only did it free up some tasty breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner for them to enjoy, it left quite the collection of mud. The soft and wet Earth was all over the place and soaked into their fur and skin with one step. Pumbaa was having a hard time keeping himself in check as the trio walked around, noticing just how soft and pliable the mud had become under the heavy storm that had hit them.

Under the waterfall’s protection, Pumbaa found himself in a perfect and deep patch of mud that was deep enough to cover him from head to hoof. He rolled around in the stuff, covering as much of himself as he could. The splatter wasn’t loud enough to overtake the rushing waters, even with the addition of his pleased moans of pleasure.

	“That’s the stuff right there!” He said aloud, feeling safe and assured no one would hear him. “Haven’t had mud this good since… Well… Ever!” Pumbaa stretched and sunk in  until his belly made contact with the bottom, poking his head out just enough so his big nose wouldn’t accidentally breathe in any of the magical concoction. 

He was a warthog, a pig by another name. It was natural that he adored it so much! The cool feeling of it against his skin, the way it would run down his back, the earthy smell, the solid yet soft texture of the stuff. Every aspect of it was just perfect for the big hearted hog. It made him feel so at home… So … Comfortable.

Really comfortable.

Really REALLY comfortable.

It was the main reason why he had to duck away from Timon and Simba. 

Pumbaa felt pulled himself out of the mud puddle and felt his heavy cock drag along, caked in mud and twitching under the presence of the wet earth. His own natural body heat did little to affect the cooling mud, even as it was wrapped around his thick pink meat. Even his low hanging balls didn’t make any kind of dent in the mud’s temperature, despite how fat, heavy and full they felt. Having his more intimate parts lathered up in the squishy substance. Cum was already dribbling out of the tip and mixing into the mud puddle. 

	‘Since the guys aren’t around, I can finally let loose just a tiiiiiiiny bit.’ Pumba reluctantly washed his lower half off in the waterfall, hoping he wasn’t accidentally mooning a certain meerkat and lion teenager. If he was gonna enjoy himself, he was going to go in fresh before getting filthy.

Pumbaa’s cleaned off rear wasn’t gonna last long as he sauntered back over to the pit. He took a deep breath of the earthy aroma, letting it linger in his nose for a few moments. Fresh rain water. Minerals, grass, mud and so on. All natural and tantalizing to the senses. The portly pig stepped back in once again, one hoof at a time until all four were submerged. The mud being as thick as it is made it easy for even his large frame to stand in before sinking further in. With proper angling, the head of Pumbaa’s bulbus member made contact with the soft and smooth mud. He made sure to go in nice and slow to relish the feeling of his shaft going in. Just over halfway in, his shaft firmly in, he felt his hefty sack make contact. The contact of his still wet balls draped in the silky mud was making the warthog impatient. He wanted to rush it and feel it splatter all around him. He was over eager to just go in. But he took his time. No rush. No need to hurry. He had all the time he could want to have his personal fun.

When he finally felt himself bottom out of the mud pit, Pumbaa let out a contentrumble of a groan from the back of his throat. Fully encased, he couldn’t help himself and began to grind himself inm digging into the mud slowly, letting his cock become as familiar as it possibly could with the earth itself. The bottom of the pit felt soft, especially compared to his hardened and throbbing meat. He pushed and pressed harder until the dirt below gave away, allowing him to dig himself deeper. 

Fully settled into the mud, Pumba raised himself up, exposing his twitching hole and the back of his sack before coming back down in a quick and powerful thrust. He was having a hard time trying to hold himself together as he repeated the process again.

And again… 

And again… 

Every time he did, the contact of his skin to the mud was met with a wet slapping sound. Just low enough to barely overtake the waterfall in volume. But he didn’t care. He was too far into his session and too far gone to not enjoy himself or allow himself to go a little crazy. Pumbaa let out another groan as he got into motion, pumping the mud faster. Every pull back created a small suction that left the warthog with a big smile of enjoyment on his face. The suction helped suck the cum right out of from his weighted down nuts. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to handle the action but it wouldn’t stop him. He sped up ever so slightly, pounding the mud harder while trying not to let the fun end. Mud would splash against Pumbaa’s taint and twitch hole, giving him that little extra sense of stimulation that he didn’t know he wanted. 

	“Ahhhhh yeahhhhh….”

The pounding become harder as he bit his lip, the call to finish growing stronger as every pump became another step closer. His focused more on the sounds between him and the mud and his own animalistic groans that didn’t stop. He snorted and grunted, all the while his rugged cock and balls slapped the mud with wild abandon, splattering it across his immediate area. Pumbaa felt himself tightening up, the base of his shaft growing hotter while his sack drew closer to his body. He tried to keep himself from letting go to soon but the desires were becoming harder to turn away. Every pulse had him clenching his pink hole as tight as he could, deep blasts of gas eking out from the tight exit. The bottom of his stomach rumbled from the buildup of excitement of him finally being able to let some long overdue stress flow out of his meat cock.

	“Not yet… NOT… YET…” He told himself over and over as he continued to hump the mud.

Now his movements became slow and heavy. Every time he came crashing down, he’d had to hold himself there for a few seconds, trying to hold everything together. Just as he calmed down, he’d pull away, resisting the urge to give into the suction. The intense concentration had the pig sweating, even in the cooling mud keeping him in.

“Ugh… !“ He inhaled sharply as he lowered himself in again, this time as deep as he could. All the while, the mud touched his sensitive hole, teasing its with the soft, cool and slippery texture. Everytime he tightened, it would slide in and between his plump cheeks, further pushing him towards the edge. He could feel every vein that traveled along his impressive length pulstate. The heat building at the base of his stomach burned the base of his shaft and the pits of his guts, threatening to release their glory.

Like any normal animal, he finally gave into his instincts.

	“Ah… AHHHH!” Pumbaa let his back door loose, letting out a deep raunchy blast of air that was likely the strongest he’d ever released. He could feel the hot air rush out, hard enough to make his pig tail curl up in response. The sexual miasma of his vile stink was the final nail in the coffin as his large  piggy load finally defiled the formerly pure wet muddy pit he was in. The first blast of jizz  filled in a small pocket. Following the first, the many other shots filled in the sticky pseudo hole he had been pounding over the past half hour. Clenching his jaw tight, he concentrated on emptying his plump sack until there was nothing left to give to  mother Earth. If his eyes were open, they’d have gone crossed eyed from the sheer excitement that ran over his spine.

Even with the rushing water and resulting mist around him, the air had been tainted by his stomach. The Warthog breathed in the resulting mix of his raunchy rear end stink along with the earthy smell of his fat nuts. The resulting combo smelt more like a warthog mating pit, with all the exciting foul smells one would imagine.

Pumbaa lost track of exactly how many shots of his seed he planted into the ground but he knew it was more than a lot. Flexing his cock, he could feel the warm, milky white substance took over most of the space that his cock occupied. It latched onto him in a combined mix of mud and jizz, sticking to his now softening shaft. The sticky combination wasn’t exactly a turn off. Along with the pungent musk hanging around him, his limp cock wasn’t beaten yet.

His member trembled as he breathed in the pit of smells that surrounded him. The load of cum that mixed with the mud and clung onto him had become lukewarm. The warthog’s mind wandered back to the idea of having another round. His hips lifted themselves up and with another wet slapping sound, he could already feel himself getting ready for another round. Just as an extra incentive to stay, Pumba relaxed his puckered hole. What followed was a series of loud and noxious puffs of gas. The warthogs signature aroma would leave a normal female hog in heat and other males to back down and allow him to do as he pleases. All it did to him was bring his half erect cock back to full strength and push him towards round 2.

He knew he had another load or four left in him.

And all the time in the world to get them all out. 

The normally friendly warthog couldn’t hide the devious grin that curled around his tusks as he wallowed in and breath in his own filth. He was hoping he could get out as much of it as he could from his system. Though with how much fun he was having, he wasn't sure if he’d be seeing Timon or Pumbaa anytime soon for the rest of the day.

Pumbaa let out a squeal as he let another series of cum and gas into and around the mud pit. The two states felt and smelled just as intense as the first one, leaving the untamed hog to enjoy his own filthy mess.

He wasn’t leaving until he was done and judging by the tingle in his balls, he was far from empty on all fronts.

	“Better be sure I get it out of my system.” He told himself with a grin that’s all to foregin from his normally sweet smile. 

Pigs do love filth. And a warthog is just another kind of pig afterall...