The fall of scar had ushered in a new age of peace and prosperity for the pride lands. Simba and his troop. His commands were always direct but they held the imposing strength a king should always give off with every word. However when he wasn’t acting as king, he would always return to the good natured spirit he’s always been. Soft spoken and calm, even when around friends and family. 


        “SIMBA!”


… However, his kind attitude was often used against him.


        “Where the hell are you?!”


Coming out of a forest bristle, Simba came face to face with the shrill voice owner.


Timon looked at the king, grinding his teeth like they were gravel beneath a wildebeests hoof. His eyes were the now normal dark shade of red from his lack of good sleep. Simba just sighed as he remembered how his once dear friend had fallen.


Once he became king, Timon began asking little favors. A place to stay here, a small off to the side watering hole spot there. 


But things grew worse.


Within the first year, he’d gone far off the deep end. Not wanting his best friend to get in the way of the power hungry meerkat, Simba appointed Pumba as a sort of emissary with Rafiki. The gassy pigs friendly personality worked in his favor and his name alone almost rivaled his in respect. Better than having to deal with…. This.


        “I told your ass to be ready by 8PM! 8!! How stupid do you have to be to not follow something that simple! Idiot!” Timon stomped the ground in frustration, heaving and breathing like air was going extinct. 


        “Timon. Its early in the morning.” Timon looked at the horizon as the sun begins to break through the night sky. He looked back between it and Simba, who was simply shaking his head. 


        “WELL… ALRIGHT! This is god damn great!! Okay, look this is what's gonna happen! We’re-”


        “Timone, look I gotta -”
        “Shut the hell up is what you gotta do! Listen, we’re gonna go out to my water hole yeah? And we’re gonna just stay there all daaaaay. Nothing but the two amigo’s! Hakunamayaya!”


        “Matata.”


        “YES WHATEVER FUCK IT!” He spat back. Quite literally onto the kings cheek. Simba felt a surge rise within him but he suppressed it and simply wiped the spittle off. Simba knew it could take just one swipe of the claw and he’d be gone. But deep in his heart, he couldn’t ever bring himself to do it. As much of an ass as he has become now, Timon and Pumba saved him from death. With a grunt, he stood up and followed the manic to his spot.


________________




Arriving at the secluded spot, it was just a few hours to mid day. The whole way through, Timon would rattle on about a variety of subjects with some of the oddest tangents Simba had ever heard. A good number that would have made even Rafiki scratch his head in confusion. From the topic of stag beetles to a debate over whether or not the sky was an actual blue or some kind of white. Simba just continued to let the mongoose slowly descend into madness with the power and privilege generously granted by the pride king.


        “-I mean just look at that shit! That’s not normal you hear?!” TImon turned to see Simba looking at the sky wistfully. ‘HEY! Eyes on me dipshit!” He snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You’re the king of the pride lands but look at me! I raised you, I won you and that makes everything here mine!!” He rubbed his hands together in an unsettling, evil manor, snickering under his breath before jumping into the water.


        ‘Finally’ Taking the moment to rest and give his ears a break, Simba allowed himself to relax in the sun. Just as he got settled in, he felt cold splashes of water his his proud red main. 


        “You ain’t going to sleep, fuzzdome! You’re gonna watch me do this and if I catch you trying to get any Z’s, you’re gonna pay for it! GOT IT?!” Nodding, Simba sat back up, pretending to watch over Timon but in reality letting his eyes and mind wander. 


He wondered what Nala was up to. Or how Rafiki and Pumba were fairing with talks with the giraffe’s. He wanted to go with them but he warned them if he didn’t make it on time to assume Timone got to him first. Using some of his shaman witticisms, Rafiki reassured the lion that all will be fine and not to worry.


        ‘If only you knew…’ 


With his eyes and thoughts looking far off into the distance, he failed to take notice of the sneaky wet meerkat tip toeing up on him. Or as sneaky as Timon though himself to be. Simba was fully aware that he was behind him, dripping wet and making plenty of hard to miss noise. The king didn’t have to wait long until he felt a sudden and all to familiar weight landing on his hindquarters. 


        “GOTCHA!” He cackled. Despite his small size, the meerkat made his presence known with his intent. Timon had his nose pressed firmly against the tight puckered ring of the majesty. He took deep breaths of the star, huffing into it as if he swam a marathon. 


        “Just hurry up Timon…” Simba muttered under his breath. 


        “You say something there fuck head?!” Practically yelling into his tail-hole, Simba tightened up around the meerkat in reaction to the loud noise. “That’s it! Make me fucking work for it!!” Timon used his fingers to pry apart the ring, spreading it open and getting a good look inside. Internally appalled but what was happening, Simba begrudgingly allowed the debauched act to go on, knowing it was this or hear through another sermon on why he should be allowed to do what he wants.


        “No Timon, I didn’t-”


        “Good! Now…” Timon settled down as he began his favorite ritual of “dominating” the king of the pride lands. 


Living with a pig for so long, he grew used to certain variety of smells and actions. He in fact loved it. He couldn’t help but be turned on over the deadly composition of natural scents. The tainted smell of a good meal, the hot wet air of a fertile male. It was as intoxicating as a lioness in heat was to Simba. 


The sweet grunge of musk assaulted his nose as he breathed it in, eyes glazing over with every new breath. With a free hand, he began pleasure himself, already dirtying his hand with the excess cream from his over eager prick. Timon supported himself on top of the king by wrapping his legs firmly around the fat feline sack of his friend, using the orbs like a big juicy cum bloated  seat. He began grinding his own eager sack into the light yellow fur balls with his dark brown pair. The friction between them had him fall deeper into the hazy tomb, slipping his head into the meaty tomb.


        “Ahh!” Simba cried as he tried to relax and just let the meerkat indulge in his pleasure.


Timon muttered something with his head firmly inside the gaping hole, sending the vibrations down into the kings bowls. All while breathing in the rank heavy stench that consumed his mind while he played with his body. Simba could feel the runny thin seed slid down his tightly held sack. 


        “Oh fuck of fuck!!!” His hand was a blur of speed as he continued beating off, grinding his sack into the large predators larger pair and unknowingly doing the same with his cock against the grundle. The hot warm body, the mind crushing smell of a hole and musk of a bigger mammal was too much for his already disturbed mind. 


Seed rocked out of him like a stampede of warthogs to a bug buffet, splattering against Simba’s crotch, pooling into the area between Timon’s thighs and spilling down and around the tightly held nut sack before hitting the ground. 


        “Timon, don’t y-you think we should go ahead and get goING!”Simba let out a roar of surprise as Timon went further into his hole, still holding on tight to his orbs. “T-Timone!”


        “Ahh yeah, this is the good stuff right here…” He told himself as he reveled in the hot warm climate of Simba’s untampered hole. His breathing ragged, he was drooling inside the penetrated anus while outside his lower half was spewing seed like a geyser, all over Simba’s lower half. 


Seeing and knowing Timon, he was gonna be locked into the awkward embrace for a while, possibly until sunset or later. Simba just shook his head and hoped to the great circle of life, no one would come around to see the depraved sight. 


The king of the pride lands being used and by a mere… Meerkat. Even one he once called a friend.


Getting comfortable, Simba just hoped for Timon to have his fill, clean up and let him off to do his job, all the while trying to appease his now degranged friend.


And explain to Nala why he smells so heavily of Meerkat.


… Again.