Tending to His Pumpkins

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.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Guaco groaned, the tapir rubbing his lower back as he stood back up. It was late October and his pumpkin field had been moderately picked over so far, but, well, he had not had as many visitors to pick pumpkins that season. It didn't matter, as they would be harvested and sold, but something felt strange about the wilder expanse of the pumpkin field that year. Bordered by a dense forest that no one entered, others had said that he was crazy for buying up that particular plot of land, but, well, it had been cheap and the soil had certainly proven to be fruitful.

The tapir smiled, the late evening sunshine glancing off his green fur, the front of his chest a lighter shade of green, though his muscles were hidden under a soft coating of fat. It was, after all, quite a natural shape for a tapir to hold and he didn't mind it, humming to himself as he tucked the soil back down around the base stem of a pumpkin.

"There you go," Guaco breathed. "All nice and tucked up there, don't want any bugs reaching your stem now, do we?"

The wind brushed his fur and ruffled the vines of the pumpkins in response, though he did not realise that it was a little something more than that. For it was the vines themselves bristling and slithering, coming to life, though the tapir's eyes had lifted and were cast out over the field, back to his farmhouse.

"Hey!"

He gasped, yanked off his feet, but the eve of the day did not hold enough light to show the tapir exactly what had happened to his pumpkins, all so very much beloved. The barn rose in the distance and the moon rose in the sky, still faint with the dying rays of the sun, the tapir flailing and dangling upside down by one angle.

"What the..."

Yet Guaco had nothing to fear, not truly, not as the pumpkins rose from the ground around him, stretching their stems and extending their veins -- all far further than could ever have come to be naturally. He gasped, heart lifting, though the tapir's fascination was short-lived to his surprise.

The vines crawled over him as he was deposited back down into a nest of his prized pumpkins, vines twisting around, though they didn't restrict him in the slightest. Marvelling at them, Guaco tried to sit up a little more, letting his fingers run over all that he could reach, from the orange bulbs of the bodies of the pumpkins themselves to the smooth vines, devoid of spikes from how he had cultivated them, twisting between his fingers.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "Oh, you're all so fine... How could I ever have let you go?"

But the pumpkins did mind at all their natural life cycle playing out, even if the magic now flowing through them rendered them sentient beings, capable of some manner of intelligence. Just how deep that ran, through the magic, remained to be seen, the pumpkins keen on repaying all his kindness, love and care in spades.

"Ohhh..."

The tapir couldn't think straight as the vines squirmed into his pants, ripping through the tough fabric, even though he had been scarcely clothed that day due to the warm late-autumn weather. His skin prickled with heat, sweating lightly, but the pumpkins and their vines were quick to strip him, leaving him naked with his bare cock on show and the firm flesh of his buttocks.

Guaco would have blushed, but there was not anything there for him to be embarrassed about, not as his pumpkins showed him, quite clearly, how much they appreciated him and all that he had done for them. His body tingled as the vines crawled over, letting him rest in a bed of them, even though Guaco still didn't want to crush them, still worried about his beloved pumpkins. But they gave him little to worry about by proving their resilience, a vine curving around his backside to prod inquisitively at his tail hole.

"Oh..." The tapir moaned, his smaller tail wiggling back and forth. "Um... You don't want to go... Ohhhhh!"

But the pumpkins most certainly had a mind of their own as they penetrated him, sliding deep into his backside, though they chose a small vine to start, one that was easy for him to take. The tapir's back arched and, as he panted heavily, another vine crawled into his mouth, allowing him to lie over the round of one of the particularly large pumpkins for support.

Guaco whimpered, letting two vines into his mouth, though they did not pump and thrust, but rather caressed him, sliding up against his tongue as if they were kissing him. He kissed them right back, letting them rub up against his tongue, kissing deeply, moaning around them, though he didn't know where to turn his head or where his attention should be.

But there were no rules at all in the world when it came to magic pumpkins, even though Guaco sorely hoped that the trance and magic of them would not come to an end at midnight. That remained to be seen, however, as the slim vine in his backside was swapped for a thicker more substantial one, after he had been opened up just a little bit.

Oh, and it was good, so very good. He had to hold onto it, sliding his hands down the vines and rocking his hips, taking the vine deep into his arse as he pushed forward eagerly into the grasp of even more vines. At the very least, he could let everything else go, let his instinct guide him, for he had been a farmer for many years already and he trusted, in a way, that he knew his land and his produce, even when it came to those of a magical kind.

Those pumpkins were special, he thought dimly, peering around him through half-lidded eyes, another vine caressing his cock, sliding and pumping up and down the throbbing length. But they would prove to be so much more than that, even to him, as they curled around his cock, layering the length as if they were a mouth, sucking on him. There was little there that they could use as lubrication, but they could slurp up the pre-cum from the head of his cock and use that to slide down the length of his cock, easing the flow and friction of their teasing pumps.

"Oh... Mmm... Oh, that's so good..."

Maybe others would not have been as enamoured as Guaco was with his produce coming to life and being magical... Well, he was still speculating about what had happened, but he knew that he wanted it, that his heart longed for it, as if a part of him had slotted into place, with his pumpkins that night.

They pumped deeper into his tail hole, intent on one thing, and the tapir bucked his hips as more and more pre-cum drooled from him, smearing over the head of his shaft. He moaned around the ones in his mouth, coaxing them deeper, though not so deep that they tapped his gag reflex, tail twitching as he fought between thrusting and grinding back. There was too much going on all at once, dragging his mind first one way and then the other, to different sensations in his body.

The tightness in his arse.

The slickness of pre-cum between the vines and his cock.

The round of the pumpkin, smooth and firm, under his belly, supporting him.

Even his toes dug into the dirt, helping stabilise him, though there was nowhere that the tapir would have wanted to be more than where he was right then. He groaned, drooling around the vines in his mouth, letting them do as they willed. They ground deep, pressing in insistently over his prostate, the tapir humping and bucking his hips, though there was no reason at all for Guaco to hold back as he spent his seed into the ground.

"Oh... Mmmph!"

He moaned around the vines, slathering his tongue around them, though he was too lost in the moment to consider anything else as he released his seed, grunting, groaning, losing his sense of what was around him. But that didn't matter as orgasm rolled through him, commanding the thrust of his hips, letting himself become nothing more than a beast of carnal pleasure, rocking and thrusting.

Yet he could not stop, for the pulse of the vines around him and their magic did not allow him to become soft again. There was no unwelcome sensitivity to his shaft immediately after orgasm, his pumpkins giving him everything he needed as he had given them everything that they needed time after time again.

They would give it all back to him again, sliding two thicker vines up against his cock, on either side of it, letting him feel the pumping, smoothing, stroking sensation, perhaps as if he was pressing into one of the pumpkins themselves. Ah, but he never would have wanted to sully one of them with his cock, not without their want and desire, but there was no telling just how far his pumpkins would want him to go, just how their magic could come into play.

He didn't have to know, two vines thrusting into his arse, blissing his mind out. Delirium took him, focusing entirely on sensation, no more than that, letting the vines of his pumpkins guide him softly. They pulled him back a little so that he was on all fours, vines supporting his arms with a gentle twist, his cheek resting on the cool of the pumpkin that he had been lying across only a moment ago. His knees bore down softly into the dirt, but he was comfortable where he was, the pumpkins' vines wrapping around to get him to softly roll his hips, everything light and easy. He didn't even have to actively think about thrusting, not as his pleasure built and built once more, pre-cum bubbling from him as if he had not cum only what seemed like moments ago.

He needed more, so much more, letting it all come through, stroking his pumpkins lightly and murmuring around the vines in his mouth just how much he loved them, how he adored them, how he promised that he would always be there to care for them. Yet they didn't seem to want him to talk as they let him suckle on their vines as if he needed one thing alone to focus on, hips grinding into the pressure of the vines as two stroked back and forth up against his prostate.

Never without the stimulation that Guaco had not even realised that he had been craving, that he had been missing, the tapir could not help but ache, his balls tight with need, wanting to thrust, to cum all over again. Yet that high was well on its way whether he was ready for it or not, cock pulsing and pumping, the flesh thick and engorged, even as his need swelled to ever greater highs.

He groaned, letting out a breathy exhale as orgasm rolled through him once again, desire pumping up. Though he was barely aware of the seed of his orgasm, not when there was so much more to capture his attention, the sexual delight that they gave him all he could think about. For yet another orgasm did not make him feel like he was satisfied at all, craving more -- but all in a way that he could have, truly, stopped if he wanted to.

They were not forcing him into sex, after all, but he could have it all and more if he wanted it, sprawling out on his back as the thickest vine of all filled his backside, languidly pumping back and forth while his own seed creamed onto his lower abdomen. Guaco moaned, a smile ghosting over his lips, eyes half open to keep his pumpkins in his sights as much as possible.

Somehow, Guaco thought that he would be keeping a lot more of his pumpkins than he had in all previous years...

But that wasn't such a bad thing at all!