Gallus spends some time thinking about his friends and how much he loves the differences between them
Gallus has several close friends of all types and varieties. Ever since he arrived at the School of Friendship, he's come across all sorts of creatures and learned to embrace differences among them. For his best friends, it's part of the glue that binds them together. He loves their customs, their outlooks, their skills, their friendliness, their willingness to embrace him as an equal.
And, of course, he loves their butts.
Simple smutty story about raucous teenagers doing impulsive things. Contains interspecies, bisexual characters, rough sex, gentle sex, cuddling, and affection. I hope the cuddling and affection doesn't put people off.
Note: Since new chapters are being added due to popular demand, each chapter (bar the original) will contain its own tone, characters, and kinks. These will be expressed in the author's note at the top of the page, so make sure to check that out before you read. Enjoy.
There was plenty of time to think, and so Gallus decided to do just that. The griffon's mind was drifting anyway, wandering absently to vague tidbits of information while he lay on his side, spooning Sandbar in the afterglow of the romp. The sheets, and their bodies, were soaked in sweat, the result of half a day of passion. What else were they meant to do with a day off? Study? That would be a ridiculous waste of a teacher's emergency, and this way was so much more fun. The pony would've agreed if he wasn't already dozing off, exhausted but happy, the blue griffon's softening cock smearing thin drools of spunk across the pony's flanks.
It was a great butt, too; round and soft, but toned enough to prevent it being a mareish backside. After they became friends, it became more and more normal for Gallus to steal quick glances at the pony's dock, casually admiring the shape of it. At some point, Sandbar noticed, but did nothing to stop it. In fact, he turned to admiring Gallus' fluffy paws and feathered wings, the two of them sharing a mutual appreciation of each other's bodies. Admiration turned to touching, and touching turned to intimacy.
Sandbar's butt never fell far from the griffon's attention, no matter how many times they hooked up. His claws always groped and squeezed at the globes of the stallion's ass, spreading and kneading them, and the sex proper was almost always from behind, just so the griffon could hold onto Sandbar's buttocks and watch as his member slid smoothly into the pony's pucker. There had certainly been plenty of that today, though the best moment with Sandbar had to be the way he'd squealed and writhed as Gallus had practically flattened the stallion's prostate with powerful, rapid thrusts, a claw wrapped around the pulsating horsecock to jerk it in time with the rhythmic buttfucking. The pleasure-ravished expression on the earth pony's face as he came was mesmorising, filling the griffon with no small amount of pride as he felt the hot surge rush through Sandbar's prick and spurt in messy jets across Sandbar's green-hued coat. Milking the pony to completion, Gallus had pulled out and followed suit, grunting as he jacked himself to his own climax, adding his seed to the sticky pool on his friend's barrel. He'd had a moment to enjoy the sight before Silverstream had kindly come over to clean the stallion's stained coat with her tongue.
The hippogriff was an amazing girl, and the thought of her brought a smile to the griffon's beak. He glanced over Sandbar's body at the gently snoring hippogriff nestled on the other side of the pony, a smile gracing her beak as she slept. Out of all of the creatures here, she was the most similar to him, at least superficially, being partially avian, but her bubbly, sociable, and naive spirit could not have been more different to his gruff and introverted sensibilities. She was kind, he was sarcastic. She responded to everything with eager excitement and adventurous curiosity, he responded to everything with a silent stoicism or a grumbled reluctance. Soon, though, he warmed up to her boundless energy and enthusiasm, and he stopped finding her so grating. In fact, he started becoming her friend, and looking on her a lot more favourably. Never in a sappy way, though. He wasn't a sappy sort of creature, he was just more open to friendship and the like now.
That's what he assured himself every time he made out with Silverstream, often in the evenings before they headed to bed. She'd invite him to her room for a nightcap, or he'd invite her to his, and they'd chat for a few minutes before falling into each other, their claws roaming across each other's bodies and trailing through the fur and the feathers. He'd hold her close, pressing his body against hers, and basking in the warmth, the contact, and the rapid pump of her heartbeat. Those sessions rarely escalated to more. It would ruin the moment, and it wasn't like their friendship needed to be all about smashing uglies together. Nah, they could enjoy being friends, very close friends, by showing each other their own brand of semi-platonic affection.
Of course, there was a lot of sex. The griffon wasn't going to deny that the hippogriff was incredibly attractive, and even if the two of them did like basking in each other's presence, there was only so much tongue-wrestling and wing-pinching they could endure before their hormones and teenage vitality reached its boiling point. The rutting that followed always started furiously and passionately, the two of them grappling for purchase and rolling on top of one another until one of them held the other still for long enough to orientate themselves. A gasp and a groan later, they would hump aggressively away, their beaks locking together over and over while their undulating lower halves worked to sate their lusts.
The needy aggression would drop away afterwards, and the kissing would become more tender. Gallus would nip at her neck and breathe in her scent as they cuddled together, holding each other close as their breathing slowly returned to normal. That was always nice, even if he did have to fight back some really stupid sappy statements sometimes. Once he'd nearly said it to her, cutting himself off mid-sentence and turning his expression of adoration towards her shapely behind. That wasn't a lie though; her behind was curvaceous and feminine, with an adorable jiggle to it. She'd giggled and suggested he act on his love for it.
Naturally, the griffon had taken her up on that offer. She'd frequently presented her round ass for him to spank and tease, his talons scratching softly at her plush cheeks while his tongue traced its way along random paths dictated by his desires. He wanted to taste all of her. He wanted to feel all of her. It was almost too much for him to bear, and those impatient episodes came out during their fierce yet tender ruts. When he held her, though, he was gentle, groping her plump ass cheeks only so hard as she wanted. He'd often spread her wide and salivated at the sight of her asshole, but she'd stopped him before he had managed to do more than tease her wrinkled sphincter. Once, she'd allowed him to sink a digit into her rear, testing how it felt, and had decided that it wasn't the worst thing ever. He'd taken a chance and pressed a second digit against her ring, but she'd pouted at him over her shoulder, a sight that had made his heart pump faster and spurred his lust. She was so damn cute, so hot, that he'd had to resist the urge to ram himself into her from behind and breed her like a good girl. Somehow, he'd fought back the desire and instead withdrew his claw at her request. Their lovemaking that night had left her sore for a full day afterwards.
With everyone else, it was easier. Even with Ocellus, who was the most insecure of the group, he'd never felt as vulnerable as he did when he made love to Silverstream. The Changeling was a very shy creature, and only agreed to intimacy with the griffon every month or so. When she did, it was a slow and careful affair, with him assuring her that she was beautiful and loved every step of the way. He didn't have to lie about that, and it was just as well; he knew she could feel his emotions. When his talons scratched their way along her carapace, he wanted her to feel it. When he groaned that he loved how she felt, he wanted her to hear it. When he dragged the tip of his beak along her throat, looked her in the eyes, and proclaimed that she was the most special Changeling he'd ever had the privilege of knowing, he truly and honestly meant it. He knew he'd done his job when she bit at her hoof to muffle her orgasmic cries, his cock feeling the results of his efforts down below.
The aftersex cuddles were different with Ocellus. She was the one to plant kisses, and she was far more energetic about it than he was. The blue girl smooched everywhere she could reach him, her mouth touching at his neck, his chest, his forehead, everywhere that was even remotely a target for two quadrupeds clamped in each other's grips. In between her amorous assault, she'd thank him for his love, stating that she'd felt it as they'd mated, loving it just as much as she'd loved his gentle but confident thrusts into her. For the Changeling, the hot gush of his climax was secondary, something that the blue male began to consider as a lesson after several sessions with the shape-shifting female. No matter what though, he appreciated the cuddles. It made him feel fulfilled and cozy, and the way she beamed, her eyes full of appreciation and...friendship, he believed...was heartwarming. He was always satisfied when she gave him the routine aftercare. She'd once accidentally made a mistake and said that she'd loved him, falling into a blush and stammering that she had meant that she loved his dick and his personality. He'd laughed and told her that he knew what she'd meant, before kissing her deeply. It was was the only time he'd done it before the orgy, making out with someone not immediately preceding sex, other than Silverstream. A coincidence, he knew - what else could it be? He had no reservations about kissing, and he wasn't exactly attached to the hippogriff. He slept around, and she knew it. He kissed others, and she knew it. There was no relationship, so it couldn't be more than a simple fling. She just happened to be his most common girl, his preference and his most appreciated friend. What else could it be?
It was very different with Smolder. The orange dragon was more aggressive than he was, and had to learn to tolerate less than herself as she adjusted to the School, as well as life outside of the Dragonlands in general. Luckily, they'd only gotten together after he'd learned about her girly side, so his bodily integrity had remained intact. Their occasional bouts were unrelenting and involved far more physicality than Gallus would've otherwise thought to use. Once, out of frustration from her incessant teasing and casual dominance, in combination with a week's worth of stressful homework, he'd slapped her across the face, immediately stopping his upwards thrusting to apologise in a panic. She'd merely turned back and snarled, telling him to do that again, but harder. Cautiously, he'd obeyed, striking her cheek several more times before she'd dragged him into an angry kiss and ridden him for all he was worth, switching between insulting him for being a bastard and praising him for the same reason. Normally, he'd have lost his erection at such talk, but the griffon had found himself amazed at just how erotic the scaled female could make anger sound. When he'd finally blown his load inside her, he'd cawed loudly and kept going, fucking his spunk into her womb. She'd followed soon after from the mixture of the heat and the penetration, billowing plumes of smoke as she clenched around him. More than a few swear words were involved as she came down from her high.
At first, their conversation had been awkward. They had lain in silence for a minute or two, and when Gallus had kissed her, she'd froze in surprise. Wincing, he'd moved to her neck, her shoulders, hoping to find her spots. Instead, she had eventually asked what he was doing just as he reached her stomach, to which he'd had to pull back and make a snarky joke about finding the dragon's treasure. She'd chortled at his remark, and told him to look on someone else. He'd gotten the hint.
After that, they'd learned to carry on as friends, and not make it weird outside of sex. Sex could include many things, including kissing, but it was weird to do it when they weren't ablaze with fiery lust. When they were done, it was back to normal. Agreeing to that, they gave each other a minute after they'd both finished to remove themselves and maybe get anything that was leftover out of their systems, before resting up and chatting about the latest hoofball match or the ridiculousness of writing that many words for that many essays in that many days. It was a simple arrangement, and the physical element was completely worth it. In fact, Gallus enjoyed having someone with whom he could just unwind. The others were nice, but they were cuddly and cute, and they showed affection. Smolder had shown him how to toughen up in this context, and he appreciated it.
With all but one of the females taken care of, Gallus couldn't leave out Yona. She was a big girl, sure, but she still had female needs, and she was still his friend. She'd been up for it, but he'd had to be creative; one attempt at filling her had alerted him to that. It had been him who had suggested anal, something the yak hadn't thought to consider in her life, but after the dissatisfaction from the usual route, it was something she had been willing to entertain. The griffon had had to hover to make it work, but after a few plunges into her cavernous pussy to lube himself up, he had lined himself up with her ring, eased his tapered member past her muscles, and earned an approving grunt as he bottomed out.
From then on, she had grown into a slut for some anal action, requesting it every time she felt pent up. It was hard work, and he'd had to call in Sandbar to help more often than not. While the pony would thrust his hoof into the yak's snatch, stuffing her with something comparable in size to what she was designed for, Gallus would ram himself into her from above, smashing against her thick hide and stuffing her depths with his turgid cock. She'd always cum with a guttural shout, her ass wringing the griffon's dick until he buried his knot in her and bathed her bowels in his seed. The yak enjoyed the hot, thick deluge, and she'd often demand a second round, which worked out for Sandbar, who needed to get his rocks off too by that point.
Looking back, it was inevitable that, eventually, someone would suggest an orgy. All it took was for Smolder to tease Ocellus for cuddling up to Silverstream during a revision session, only for her to smile and say that she felt beautiful when she was doing it. Silverstream had backed her up, telling the shapeshifter that she was beautiful, that should feel like that, and that the she herself felt loved when she was cuddled, too. Smolder had scoffed and said that she needed to get someone who would choke you, call you filthy names, and fuck you like they hated you; that was feeling appreciated. While Yona had laughed uproariously, the Changeling and the hippogriff had blushed. Up until that point, Gallus had been working into a rhythm with the homework, the conversation idle background noise to his rare moment of concentration.
Of course, Yona had blown everything wide open by saying that the griffon and the pony were both honorary yaks in that department, which had drawn more than a few eyes towards them, and a salacious grin from Smolder. Caught red-handed and red-faced, the two quadrupeds had glanced at each other and winced, having no way to pass off what had been said, which set the scene for what followed. The dragoness had told the room that Gallus was the closest to a dragon she'd gotten in Equestria, and described a few things he'd done to her in the last week before the blue male cut her off with a dry glare and a sharp wave of his claw. Silverstream had looked between the two of them incredulously, wondering out loud how he could be like that when he was so affectionate with her, a sentiment which Ocellus echoed, with the addition of her surprise with Sandbar. Apparently, the pony was soft and tender to the Changeling too.
After the web of reveals, in which Smolder had expressed surprise that Sandbar was apparently a good lay and that Gallus wasn't a 24/7 fuck machine, she'd joked that they had a lot to learn about each other; maybe they should trade experiences. She'd been being her usual mischievous self, but Yona had been on board immediately, and Silverstream's enthusiastic curiosity had came back in full force when the shock of the revelations had subsided.
So they planned. It was basic, it was inexperienced, but it was what they did best; the six of them working together, and trusting in each other to muddle their way through it. They had predicted that it'd happen at some point in the next month or two, but then, on the Monday, Headmare Twilight and the other professors had been called away to save the world yet again. The students had turned up to their class to find a note on the front door, explaining that class was cancelled for the day, and that they should revise the materials they'd covered in the last three classes. Ocellus and Sandbar had been ready to go to the library and do just that, but Smolder and Silverstream had shared had a mischievous, knowing grin, and suggested something else.
And so, half an hour later, Yona's room had been filled with ten waterbottles per creature, an extra large tub of lube, and a bunch of friends throwing aside their inhibitions. The hours had passed by, and the room had grown more and more infused with the reek of sex. Finally exhausted and declaring it to be a success, everyone had curled up on the floor or bed and rested their head and their eyes. It had been grand.
The grin refused to leave Gallus' beak. Somehow, these eclectic characters, his friends, had brought things into his life that he'd never known he wanted. He'd known about ponies before he'd left Griffonstone, with the stories brought back from the west, but yaks, Changelings, and hippogriffs? They'd eluded him, and now they were the creatures who'd shaped his life more than almost any griffon he'd ever known. Boundless enthusiasm, stalwart determination, careful consideration - none of these were things he'd have learned in Griffonstone. Then again, what were the odds that Smolder would've learned generosity to temper her fierceness, or that Silverstream would've learned to stand up for herself to counter her overly accepting nature? Would Ocellus ever have found anyone who could've loved her for what she was, outside of her isolated community, and showed her that her nature wasn't that of Chrysalis? What would they have done if they'd stayed where they were in life and never met?
He couldn't think of a better collection of creatures to spend his time with.
His claw reached across to brush at Silverstream's barrel, earning a soft, appreciative murmur, and she reached up to hold onto him. He felt an urge to lean over and kiss her, but decided against it. There were better times for that. For now, he was happy to have the girl hold his claw to her chest as she slept, his arm draped over the snoozing pony between them. This was nice, this nexus they'd created. Yawning, he settled his head down on the pillow, closed his eyes, and let the peace of darkness ensconce him.
This was where he belonged. This is where they all belonged.
Gritting his teeth in frustration, Gallus resisted the urge to hurl the textbook across the room, mainly through reminding himself that he'd lose his deposit if his dorm had a suspicious dent or five along the walls. He couldn't make heads nor tails of the essay, and switching to any of the others didn't help him. There were six to do, one on each of the Elements of Harmony in a historical context, and he'd managed to get no further than a quarter of the way through any of them. The pattern had been the same; start one, get through a few paragraphs, then run out of steam or get bogged down on a particular phrase or requirement of the question. All of them had been assigned earlier in the week, and he had to have them submitted by the next Tuesday.
He was sat at his desk on a Saturday afternoon. Most of the students were in Ponyville having fun bowling or swimming in the lake, or otherwise enjoying the springtime sun.
Pinching the bridge of his beak between his claws and gently massaging away the mounting irritation, the griffon set down his pencil with as much restraint as he could manage and flipped the textbook back to the glossary. His eyes flicked between the essay question and the textbook, trying to find a match in the phrasing. Finding a word that looked promising, he noted the page number and quickly flicked the pages until he reached it. His claw traced the lines, searching for the phrase he needed.
"Co-operation," he muttered to himself, willing the word to jump out of the page. "Come on, co-opertion. Where are you?" He sighed as he finally came across it, reading the paragraph from the beginning to try and garner the information he needed. "The tribes didn't manage to successfully create a functional society until they came together and made their pact one of trust and mutual understanding. It was the acts of co-operation which cemented this bond between them, and by extension, forged the national spirit which unified Equestria. In particular, the creation of Canterlot by the unicorns stands as a cornerstone of the society of Equestria, as it was upon its completion that the unicorns invited delegates from the other two tribes to celebrate in the grand new city, enjoying its splendour rather than being excluded from it." Gallus blinked and looked at the essay question again.
Explain why the ancient pony tribes co-operated to build Equestria, and how this relates to the virtue of kindness. 50 marks.
Gallus frowned and re-read the text, and then glanced back at the question, as if hoping the words would change somehow. Unsurprisingly, they didn't, and he felt the familiar bubbling of hot frustration rising up inside him again.
"The question asks me why, the book tells me how," he grumbled, snapping the book shut and rubbing his face with his claws. "How can I answer the question when the book doesn't give me the answer? What's the point in telling us to read the book if the book doesn't give us the answer?" He shoved the book away with more force than he intended, sending it tumbling over the edge to land with a thump behind the desk, and taking with it a pile of notes he'd organised an hour prior. He thumped the desk with a claw, his annoyance bubbling over and tearing a shriek of indignant irritation from him. He grasped his plume and leaned back, pulling until he felt twinges of pain.
A sudden knock at his door pulled Gallus from his upcoming tantrum, forcing the blue boy to reassert some level of control over himself. Smoothing back his plume, he stood up from his chair and attended to the door, opening it up a crack to see who was. Upon seeing it was his orange friend, he opened the door fully.
"Are you okay?" the dragoness asked, peering at him. "I heard you muttering, and then you started yelling."
"How long have you been out there listening?" the griffon asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I was gonna come knock anyway, and then I heard you talking and wondered if you had someone else in there," she replied. "The yelling kinda tipped me off that you didn't. Or that you were being attacked and needed help. It's an even chance around here."
"A kidnapping would've been preferable," Gallus commented flatly, his eyes narrowed in residual dissatisfaction. It was Smolder's turn to quirk an eyebrow at him. "Homework," he explained. "Those stupid essays we have to do. I can't get any of the answers I need."
"Oh, that," the biped realised, nodding. "That makes sense. I can understand the yelling." She glanced inside the room. "Which one?"
"All of them," Gallus grumbled. "The yelling came from professor Fluttershy's essay, though, if that's what you mean."
"I haven't even started on that one," Smolder told him grimly. "I can't find any copies of A Historical Review of the Ancient Pony Tribes Pre and Post Migration anywhere in the library."
"You can have mine if you want," the griffon told her with a jerk of his claw back into his room, gesturing with a thumb at his desk. "It's useless anyway." Setting his claw back down on the ground, he looked at the scaled girl again, remembering what she'd said. "Why were you coming to knock for me?" That loosened the frown on the dragon's muzzle.
"I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out," she explained. "I'm bored, Sandbar, Yona, and Silverstream are down by Ponyville's lake, and Ocellus is reading in the library and doesn't want to be disturbed."
"Good to know I'm your first choice," the quadruped quipped snarkily, standing aside so the dragoness could enter. Smolder stepped inside with a quick glance around.
"I don't like intruding," she replied. "I couldn't intrude on Ocellus, and I only knocked because it beats spending time alone."
"You didn't want to go with the others to the lake?"
"Not really my thing. I can't stay in water too long, it makes me uncomfortable."
"Really?" The griffon's surprised tone caused the dragon to nod as though it were obvious.
"Dragons are fire creatures, remember?" she reminded him, blowing a puff of smoke from her mouth to demonstrate her point. "Water and fire don't really mix." She took a seat on the floor, leaning back a little to rest on her claw, one leg raised and bent at the knee in front of her face.
"I mean, that makes sense," Gallus conceded, taking a seat in his chair. "But how do you function? Don't you drink water? And shower?"
"We can tolerate water," she explained. "Drinking is a small quantity, so it isn't a problem. When it comes to showering, I need hot water. I have mine at 60 degrees Celsius, and it feels tepid. Back home, we wash in lava, so I guess you can imagine the sort of difference. Swimming in anything below 50 degrees is cold to me."
"Wow," the griffon commented, fluffing his wings. "That's...pretty hardcore. How do you tolerate it at all?" His comment got a grin from the horned female, and she shrugged.
"We can heat ourselves up. You know, generate fire in our bodies to keep warm, or repress it to cool down. In open air, it's not a problem, because we can always heat up quicker than the air can cool us down, unless it's a blizzard or something. Water saps heat though, so it's that's different story. Swimming in what you call 'normal temperature' water for me is like...what do other creatures do?" She looked up and scrunched her face, trying to call in some useful allegory. Her expression brightened as she came to a realisation. "A plunge pool. It's like when ponies jump in plunge pools. If I don't heat myself up before I dive in, I get real cold real quick. Even if I do heat myself up, I still slowly start getting colder. I guess it's like eating ice-cream, where your body starts feeling chilly? That's how Sandbar described it, anyway." She shrugged, accepting her limited ability to convey her experiences. Looking around the dorm, her face turned pensive. "I think this is the first time I've been in your room."
"Probably," the winged boy replied. "When we hang out, we tend to go places other than where each of us sleep." He looked around at the sparsely decorated space, containing only a few items; photographs of him and his friends, a poster of the Wonderbolts, and a couple of records of pony music he was trying out. Some of it was good, some of it wasn't. "What's your room like?"
"The same, but I have more rocks," Smolder responded. "The more expensive ones are decorations, the cheaper ones are study snacks." When she said the word 'study', she frowned. "Ugh, and now I'm thinking about what I should be doing instead of hanging out with you."
"Am I that uninteresting?" Gallus asked with an accusatory smirk.
"Nearly," she shot back almost immediately. "You're more interesting by about a silica." Upon receiving a blank stare, she frowned and rephrased her banter. "You're more interesting by a microscopic amount." That registered with him, and he nodded in understanding, before letting a silence fall across them. It wasn't unpleasant, but there was something wrong. Smolder's sharp eyes picked up his subtle shifting and deeper frown. She wondered if Ocellus could've determined his exact mood if she were here. "Are you okay?" she asked eventually. Unlike before, her tone was completely sincere this time. For a few seconds, he didn't answer, and she wondered if he was going to ignore the question.
"I don't know what to do," he admitted at last, not looking away from the wall. "I know I'm meant to know these things, and I'm trying to follow the instructions, but nothing's working. I just don't get it." He let out a groan and ran his claws through his plume again. "I've listened in class, I've taken notes, I've got the right books from the library, so why can't I do the stupid assignments? Heck, I've saved Equestria at one point, I should be able to pass a stupid test!" He looked - and sounded - like he was growing more angry with every passing word, his face screwing up and his tone starting to drip with disgruntled annoyance.
"Come here," the dragoness cut in before he could continue, getting up off the floor and sitting herself on his bed. She knew what anger could do, and she was going to take an executive decision if it meant helping her friend. Patting the bedding beside her, she waited for the griffon to obey. He looked at her with a confused frown, but obeyed, crossing the room to sit next to her. As gently as she could, she eased him onto his front, to which he put up a modicum of resistance.
"What are you doing?" he asked, trying to look up at her from his awkward angle. "If this is your way of telling me I need more sleep, I'm gonna-"
"Trust me on this," she told him, pushing him into a position that was more suited to what she wanted to do. He continued to grumble and offer token protests, right up until she gripped his shoulders and began kneading. Within a second, he went from grumpy and reluctant to awed and meek. She couldn't help but grin as he let out a whimper, his tense muscles creaking as she firmly pressed against them.
"O-oh, w-wow," he could't help but murmur. "Ugh, wh-where did you - ooooh! - learn this?" He couldn't stay still. It was more than rubbing; his muscles responded in ways he'd never experienced before, making sounds worryingly akin to a crack and sending sharp tingles across his nerves that caused him to wince. It wasn't exactly painful, but she had to be firm, and the result was a series of tickles and some forcefully relaxed tissue. At first, he'd thought the noise and the give had been her claws, but then he realised that it probably wasn't possible for her claws to crack with every downward push she made.
"Silverstream taught me," Smolder answered, working her way downwards. Gallus cooed and gasped as she loosened his body inch by inch, drawing some amusingly feminine sounds from the gruff griffon. "We were bored one day, so I went to her room and she offered to teach me. It was surprisingly easy. I can teach you, if you want." He grunted something that could've been a yes or a no, and so the dragoness kept working.
She had just started massaging the joint to his left wing, when the griffon's voice reached her, though she couldn't make it out. His head was buried in his pillow, so only his tone conveyed that he was trying to tell her something somewhat urgent. Stopping what she was doing, she leaned closer.
"Everything okay down there?"
An unintelligible murmur.
"What?"
Something indecipherable.
"I can't hear you, so you're gonna have to-"
The griffon's head turned to the side, and the dragon was surprised to see his cheeks flushed red. "Griffons have sensitive wings," he told her, his tone sharp. She blinked and tilted her head.
"So you want me to be more gentle?"
"No, it's..." He sighed and cleared his throat. "They're sensitive because they're meant to be touched." At Smolder's continuing blank stare, he bit his tongue for a moment or two. "Touching a griffon there is intimate. Preening the feathers is something we do individually or with close friends or family, and touching the joints is...well, sexual."
"Oh." The orange dragon's eyes widened as she realised what he was saying. "Oh! Sorry." She chuckled sheepishly. "Did I just do something like a mating dance with you then?" She grinned at him, starting to blush herself, but her orange scales largely camouflaged it. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she held up a claw defensively. "I'm joking! Besides, it's not that embarrassing. You've seen me in a dress, after all, so if anything, I need to find out some more embarrassing things about you before we're even."
"It's not embarrassing," he corrected her, his tone a little muted. She narrowed her eyes, not understanding. "It's just awkward because, uh..." He paused and strained his neck further to look at her. "Can you promise me you'll be honest with me, and that whatever you say after I've said what I'm about to say, we just move on?"
"Uh, I guess?" Smolder answered, curious about the way this was progressing. "I mean, yeah, I'll be honest with you, and we'll take it as it comes after that." Having gotten her assurance, Gallus nodded and pressed on.
"I'm really stressed. Like, really, really stressed. These essays are driving me nuts, I can't figure out if I'm doing something wrong or the questions are just badly written, and every other creature is enjoying themselves in town. Now I've got a girl in my room and she rubbing my body and touching my wings." He snorted in amusement. "I'm really pent up, and I need to get off. I'm up for it if you are. What do you say we fool around?" Smolder's eyes widened as she realised why he was flushed. The red on his cheeks wasn't from embarrassment; he was aroused.
"Oh...wow," she murmured. It was her turn to be shocked into soft vocalisations. She worked to wrap her head around the proposal, her friend suddenly offering her something a bit more than friendship. Of course, it was surprise, not a bombshell, and soon she'd come back to her usual self. "You know what...I'm a bit pent up myself." She grinned and began to rub at the base of his wings again, this time more roughly, and more deliberately. To her delight, the blue griffon began writhing, his body reacting involuntarily to the pleasure to which she was subjecting him. "I could use some hard, bed-rattling fun." She leaned down and brought her muzzle next to his ear, his desperate whimpers sounding delicious to the suddenly predatory girl. Lowering her voice to a husky whisper, she asked, "You reckon you're up for that, bird-boy?"
"You bet your ass I am," he growled, spurred on by her taunts. His wings ruffled as he twisted, trying to turn over to face the dragoness, but she held him firm, pinning him against the bed. Baring her teeth, she pressed one of the sharpest of her canines against his neck, feeling him tense as it pressed against his soft, vulnerable skin. His struggling stopped, and he gulped.
"Easy, boy," she commanded, her tone simultaneously firm and mirthful. "I said I was willing to fool around. I didn't say I was gonna do it your way." Her scaled front pressed against the griffon's back, she felt his wings straining against her, yearning to spread to flap. The dragon denied them that opportunity, slowly humping her loins against his toned rump. Her waist moved fluidly, smoothly, and he grunted in a confused mix of satisfaction and disapproval. Carefully, Smolder dragged the tips of her teeth across the side of his neck, letting him feel the sharpness while ensuring that he'd stay completely intact. His dignity, not so much, but his safety was assured.
"Ugghhh," the griffon groaned, pushing his rear back towards her. His teeth were gritted and he was wiggling against her again, albeit a lot less, and with far more restraint. "Come on Smolder, I said I was pent up. Can we save this for another time and get to the actual fun?"
"Another time?" she repeated, not ceasing her motions in spite of his protests. She loved being in control of him, his whimpers sending delightful shivers through her body. It was the second best thing after coming across a gemstone she could hoard for herself. Hoarding griffons - or cute boys in general - was something she'd have to look into. "Feeling confident, are you? What makes you think I'll want to do this again?"
"You're enjoying it too much," he replied, his words underpinned by the panting pattern of his breathing. "There's no way you'd pass up an opportunity to do this again."
"You've got me there," she admitted, sitting up and lifting herself from the griffon's back. Immediately, he tried to turn around, but she pressed a claw against the small of his back. "Stay." Her tone was firm and brokered no argument. Gallus let out a low, impatient growl, and she smirked. "I'm gonna be on top."
"Fine."
"I'm gonna be riding you."
"Yeah, sure."
"If I tell you to do something, you're gonna do it."
"Yes, if that's what it takes!"
She waited a couple of seconds, savouring the moment. All that was stopping him was her palm and a moderate amount of her bodyweight. He could undoutedly flip over without her being able to stop him, but he didn't. She was keeping him in position, aside from his waist, which was grinding needily against the bed. She licked her lips at that, before relenting her hold. "Good boy. Now, show me what you're packing."
The blue griffon probably didn't need any prompting, what with the state he was in, but her command brought him around onto his back with an urgent swiftness that made Smolder glow with self-congratulatory pride. She cherished his needy attitude and his willful obedience to her demands, his actions dictated by her whims and her will. It was a familiar feeling to dragons, greed, but this was something very new. She never realised before how much she could desire another creature's submission, or feast on the deliciousness of holding power over them. It was a feeling that could only be matched by the reveal as Gallus rolled onto his back and spread his legs, exposing himself to her gaze.
"Normally having girls stare at my junk is pretty great, but right now, I kinda need you to do more," Gallus verbally nudged. The dragoness rolled her eyes and slowly stalked towards him, eyes fixated on his crotch like a cat slowly drawing towards its prey. This was her first griffon - her first partner outside of another dragon, truth be told - and she was as much savouring it as she was coming to terms with what was in front of her.
Proudly jutting up seven inches or so, the griffon's cock wasn't just a tubular shape like the ones with which she was familiar; a ridge of bristles ran down the underside of his shaft, all the way from his knot-bulging base to his glans, which ended with a tapered tip. His cockhole sat just below the point, already drooling thin streams of pre-cum down his girthy pole. It was alien, but at the same time, it was so alluring. Even the smell of it - heavens above, the glorious smell - was familiarly intoxicating. It was distinct, for sure; dragon musk was much more harsh, hot, and chemical, usually reminiscent of smoke, burning grass, or earthy copper. This was something else, something that tickled her nostrils with its aroma, prickled her receptors softly, and hinted at tastes and scents subtly enough that she couldn't pin them down. It was like an invitation, a mere taste-test before the purchase. Smolder made sure to take a huge whiff, breathing in Gallus' musk from a few inches away, revelling in the subtle potency of his swirling, masculine smell.
Her tongue flitted out and swiped up the tapered crown of the griffon's dick, sweeping up the drooling pre-cum as it dribbled downwards. As soon as she made contact, Gallus gasped, sucking in air. The dragon's touch was electric, her movements precise, and her skill was obvious. He looked on as the orange girl tasted and explored him, swirling her tongue around his tip before caressing his shaft in swift strokes, following every bump and contour his member had to offer. It was like she was mapping out his pride through touch alone, not stopping her movements as she traced every square inch of his member, leaving him covered in a glistening sheen of saliva.
"Do all griffons taste this good?" Smolder asked as she dragged her tongue noisily up his underside, enunciating the lewd lick. She smacked her lips together in appreciation before opening her maw and engulfing his entire length, wrapping her lips tightly around his shaft and bouncing her head up and down quickly like she was on a sugar rush. It took a few seconds of concentration before Gallus managed to focus his thoughts enough to break through the haze of pleasure and answer her.
"Uh, maybe?" he breathed, struggling to cast his mind back to the few he'd been with back in Griffonstone. They'd been fumbling experiments, and not particularly memorable. It didn't help that he had a very enthusiastic dragon bobbing her head in his lap, causing his prick to tingle with constant pleasure and the squishy slobbering sound of a sloppy blowjob to reach his ears. He felt hot; the interior of her mouth felt hot, his rod felt hot, his cheeks felt hot. He was burning with lust, his heart pumping hormone-saturated blood to his throbbing prick so it could pulse and squeeze out more searing pre-cum to feed the insatiable dragoness blowing him hungrily. His nuts were leaden, growing heavier as the thick, salty brew in them bubbled, ready to surge forth and spew into some lucky female.
That moment was approaching quicker than intended, Gallus realised with a start.
The griffon gripped the bedsheets in his claws and tried to fight back the rising tide. It was a losing battle, but still he fought on. He thought about the homework he had to do, but that reminded him why he was here in the first place, and set him right back in the mindset of getting his rocks off. He thought about Grampa Gruff, but the image of the wrinkled old griffon didn't mingle well with the rising pressure in his loins, and he cast it aside in disgust. He thought about that apple pie recipe he'd been recommended, but couldn't remember the ingredients amidst the persistent sword-swallowing going on down below. By the time he admitted to himself that he wasn't going to be able to hold off his climax, his knot had already swelled to its maximum extent and his nads were already contracting towards him, the rush of heat already starting its journey as he tried to warn Smolder.
"I'm gonna-" was as far as the blue griffon got before he arched his back and his cock throbbed, shooting a thick deluge of his cream straight down the dragoness' esophagus. She stopped for a second, caught of guard, her options running through her head as she tried to decide what to do. The second jet decorated her throat white, the griffon grunting as his muscles worked to eject every drop of his ball batter into the hot, wet, inviting passage where he'd chosen to sheath his cock. Swallowing down the load in her mouth, Smolder held position and sucked, coaxing out every splash of semen. When the ejaculate ran out, and the cock in her mouth was left pulsing weakly and dribbling drops of spunk, she lapped at his hole, cleaning up after the mess he'd made. Pulling back, now that it was safe to do so, she looked at the panting griffon and smirked.
"Are all griffons that sensitive?" she questioned teasingly. The redness in his cheeks grew hotter, and he narrowed his eyes at her. Sitting up against the head of the bed, he faced her fully as he made to defend himself.
"I normally last a lot longer."
"Yeah, I'm sure, dude."
"Seriously, I do."
"Yeah, if you say so."
"Hey, come on! You were the one touching my wings!"
"Nothin' to be ashamed of. It's like, one third of guys suffer from it, or something?"
"Ask any creature I've been with, and they'll tell you I'm a machine in bed!"
"Yeah? And who exactly should I ask?"
The griffon opened his beak to respond, then stopped. No sound came out of him, and, after several seconds of him sitting in place with an open maw, he closed his beak and narrowed his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, he glowered, and peered to the side. The scaled female smirked in mischievous glee.
"If it makes you feel better-"
"Drop it."
"Hey, I'm being serious. You tasted great. Like, I don't know if that's normal for you, or if all griffons produce what you produce down here-" She tweaked one of his fuzzy balls, earning a wince from the sulking griffon. "-but it was hot, it was thick, and it was salty. If I was wet before, I'm a faucet right now." She grabbed one of his forelimbs and forcefully guided his claws between her legs so that he could feel both the heat radiating from her nethers and the veritable drips from her snatch. He rubbed back and forth along her slit, the toughness of her scales noticeably giving way to the softness of her inner flesh. Satisfied that she'd made her point, she pushed his claw back towards him. "Have a taste."
The griffon's tongue flitted out to lap at his talons, cleaning Smolder's juices from them. He nodded in approval, and looked her up and down. "So you want me to go down on you now?"
"Nah," she answered, scoffing at his suggestion. "On your back, bird-boy. I want a proper ride." She lidded her eyes again and licked her lips in that predatory manner that was so characteristic of dragons. Deciding that he wasn't annoyed enough with her to argue, the griffon did exactly that, shimmying himself back into a flat position, his dick still hard and ready to go for round two. As soon as he had, the teenage dragon was atop him, straddling his middle, her eyes blazing with a lustful hunger. "I hope you last longer this time."
Before he could do much more than growl at her, the dragoness had lifted herself up, reached back to his dong, aligned it with her sopping snatch, and thrust herself down, filling herself with him in a swift drop of her body. The two of them gasped in unison, their bodies confronted with their respective sudden sensations. Closing her eyes and grinning, Smolder began to gyrate her hips, her claws perched on Gallus' shoulders for balance.
His shape was strange, but she'd be damned if it wasn't good. The bulb of his knot rubbed insistently against her lips, a hot bulge of flesh to stimulate the outside of her soaked pussy. His glans reached deep into her, tingling and tickling at unexpected intervals, brushing her walls at points she didn't anticipate and drawing a shiver from her as her nerves glowed in hot appreciation.
The griffon, too, was admiring the wonders of his partner. Her quim was without a doubt the softest thing about her. Her scales were hard and tough, her mouth was lined with the ever-present danger of her razor-sharp teeth, but her canal was familiar; female, feminine, and welcoming. It was like being wrapped in satin and squeezed tenderly and lovingly. She was hotter than he was used to, though. Every girl he'd been with was hot inside, sure, but this was like a sauna; thoroughly damp and positively sweltering. Despite that, it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was relaxing, as weird as that was. A relaxing, sauna-esque, dick-hug.
What a peculiar form of stress relief.
His claws made their way to Smolder's hips, gripping her waistline as her movements grew stronger and more energetic. Her rocking transitioned into bouncing, her lower half rising and falling in heavy, rapid strokes. Gallus tried to guide her, to rock her forwards so that she'd come down at an angle, allowing his bristles to stimulate her walls, but she persisted as she was, going so far as to grab his claws and pin them to the bed. Her bouncing stopped, and she leered down at him.
"Why don't you show me what you've got?" she teased, licking his chin playfully. "Other than a hair trigger." Bristling from the insult, the griffon thrust upwards, but with his cock already buried in her, he didn't achieve much. She smirked in a way that irritated him further, the impotence of his position fueling his temper. He thrusted again, rocking his hips to offer the two of them some level of stimulation. "There's no shame in admitting you can't do it." He ignored her and upped his efforts, hurling his hips against her to evoke some positive reaction from the dragon. She continued to ride with him, her expression stoic and smug. "Feel free to admit you need a girl to do it for you." She released his claws to stretch, faking a yawn. "I mean, first the homework, now this; I'm not saying there's a pattern, but you're clearly not the winning horse in-"
SMACK!
The sharp crack rent the other noises of the room, almost seeming to reverberate from the walls. The two creatures stopped moving, and the sentence died out on Smolder's lips. She was astutely aware that she was facing another direction entirely, and her left cheek still buzzed from the impact. Slowly turning to face the griffon, she found his rage draining from his face, along with the colour. His anger-scrunched features relaxed and then widened into a look of shock and fear, his eyes bulging as he realised what he'd just done. For her part, the dragoness bared her teeth and snarled.
"Oh no...I'm really sorry," Gallus apologised, feeling the concrete weight of dread settling in his stomach. He brought both his claws to his chest defensively, his right claw still tingling from the slap. It felt weighter, as though the guilt of what he'd done had manifested there specifically. "It was an accident, I swear. I didn't mean to-"
"Do that again," Smolder interrupted, her eyes locked onto his. She spoke by moving her lips, her jaw not budging.
"Uh...what?" He noticed with terrifying clarity that her teeth were still on display, in all their vicious glory. This is how I die, he thought to himself grimly. I'm gonna be found here...and several other places...and the whole school is gonna know why. His erection, which had understandably been starting to wilt, regained some of its turgidity. At least it'll be memorable. How many griffons get to bed a dragon?
"I said, do that again. And make it hurt."
"As in...do you mean...actually do that again, or is this a thing where a girl tells you something's fine and you're not supposed to actually do it?"
"Gallus, if you don't slap my fucking face right fucking now, I'm gonna fuck you up the ass with your own dick."
In all his years, Gallus had never heard a more compelling reason as to why he should oblige a request.
Raising his claw to face level, the griffon brought it against Smolder's scales, barely moving her head as it brushed past. She returned her gaze to him, frowning.
"Was that a slap or a caress?" she scolded. "Come on, I want you to hit me."
Swallowing nervously, he reared back his claw and tried again, the whack sounding a little more solid. From the look he received, though, she was unimpressed, treating the impact more like a gentle pat.
"Come on, I want you to do it."
Slap
"Come on, hit me. I want you to do it."
Slap
"Come on, hit me!"
SLAP
"Hit me!"
SLAP! SLAP!
"Yesss, just like that-"
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
One to the right cheek, one to her left cheek as soon as she'd looked back at him, and another to her left cheek again, just to make sure she felt it. From the fiery blaze in her eyes, he knew she'd appreciated it.
"You absolute bastard," she growled, darting down and ensnaring him in a lip-lock, kissing him with more passion than he realised she had in her. "You feather-brained, limp-wristed, soft, magnificent bastard." Her words were hissed and murmured at him between kisses, the dragon barely lifting her lips from his to speak. She'd begun grinding again, flexing back and forth while her claws and mouth was occupied. Unlike before, she was desperate and needy, putting no effort into pretense; she wanted him, and she was going to take what she wanted.
Riding the griffon at an angle, his underside rubbed her passage the way it was supposed to, brushing her soft, sensitive flesh as she thrust herself down onto his length. Before long, she was grunting into the kiss, each shove of her hips forcing an exhalation from her. Her tunnel wrung at his cock, squeezing and caressing his tumescence as he lay there and allowed the orange girl to ride him, his talons scratching their way along her back.
"How about I take over?" he suggested, breaking the kiss to look Smolder in the eye. The dragon snorted at his suggestion, her breathing more shallow and audible than usual.
"If you need to ask, then-"
"That wasn't a question," Gallus corrected her, smirking. "That was a heads-up." Clapping his claws to her ass and pulling her a little further up his body, the griffon shifted his hindlegs a little so that he had more leverage, angled his hindquarters, and thrusted.
The effect was immediate; the dragoness gasped and arched her back, her claws tightening around his shoulders. The griffon set a powerful, steady pace, powering into her from below like a spring. His loins struck hers over and over in quick succession, the brisk whap-whap-whap becoming the melody to their lewd song. And what was a song without vocals? Smolder filled that role to perfection, panting and moaning and gripping the blue boy beneath her as he plowed her pussy, the soft bristly nubs along his underside grazing her velvety insides with every downward motion. He was relentless, pounding upwards until her buttocks and thighs were acclimatised to the persistent impacts of his body, and her mouth had formed a tell-tale O shape.
She didn't need to announce when she was close - her body spoke for itself. Her cunny clamped down, urgently trying to draw Gallus into her and keep him there. Her breathing became a rapid panting and her body tensed, bringing her muzzle close to his ear. The rush of her breath against his feathers accentuated the needy, unspoken demand presented by the sounds she was making, and he drove himself harder and faster into her quim to not only push her over the edge, but to send her hurtling. When she did, he only partly regretted it, taking the scratching of her claws in his stride, slowing down gradually to draw out her orgasm without overexerting either her or himself. It took perhaps half a minute, but eventually, her contractions stopped, though her guttural grunting and throaty growling persisted.
"Are all dragons that sensitive?" he asked softly, failing to keep the mirth from his voice. Her response was an elbow to his ribs. He chuckled at her reaction, nipping at her neck ineffectually. "You okay to keep going? There's no shame in admitting you can't do it." The heat of her exasperated sigh reminded him that annoying a fire-breather maybe wasn't the best course of action.
"If I agree to stop the teasing, are you gonna stop too?" she asked. The griffon pondered her question, keeping his hips rolling in slow rotations as he did so. She wasn't so sensitive that he couldn't probe her depths tenderly.
"Depends how well you stop the teasing," he responded after a few seconds. Rolling the both of them over, he adjusted to their new position, shifting his weight for a better angle and leverage. "But I asked you a question, and I answered yours. Care to return the favour?"
"As if you need an answer," Smolder retorted with a playful lilt, lidding her eyes and lifting her legs until they rested on his shoulders. "Fuck me up, bird-boy."
"Gladly." He didn't bother starting slow or warming up. Aside from the first few strokes, where he tested out the position and felt how her legs affected his balance, he was planning on going in hard and fast. Sheathing himself inside her inviting passage, he moved smoothly, pulling back in careful, undulating swivels, before placing his claws flat on the bed either side of her and slamming into top gear.
Smolder's eyes bulged as the griffon rammed himself into her, the angle provided by her raised hips deepening his penetration. His tip speared all the way to her cervix, stopping just short of actually bumping against it by not even an inch. Gallus worked like a jackhammer, his crotch clapping loudly against hers and his fuzzy nuts slapping against her scaled rear, walloping into her at such speed that he practically bounced off again. He used the momentum to plow her, not so much rocking his lower body back and forth, or sawing in precise, calculated strokes, but throwing himself at her again and again, roughly smashing their crotches together and stuffing her full of his pride. It was a testament to his skill that he managed to keep to a rhythmic beat.
Slapping her from this angle wasn't as effective as it had been when she'd been on top; he needed his claws to maintain his balance and his pace, and he couldn't quite put the power into each strike that she wanted. Still, he struck her cheeks a few times, earning a grateful grin from her. For the most part, though, he focused on plundering her depths, sinking himself as far and fast as he could into her hot, hungry quim. His brain recalled her earlier reference to plunge pools, and he barely managed to disguise his snicker as a whimpering grunt at the comparison. A dragon's lava plunge pool? Clunge plunge? He forced the ideas aside for the time being, wrlyly wondering if that train of thought could hold back a premature climax. Between it and his first orgasm, he seemed to have a longer duration ahead of him, something for which he was appreciative.
"Choke me," the horned girl urged him, looking up imploringly between breathy groans and hums. He couldn't refuse a request like that, particularly not from a friend, especially not from a female friend, and certainly not from a female friend who'd previously threatened to fuck him with his own cock. Slowing his hammering pelvis down to a more moderate speed, the griffon shifted a claw from the bed to her neck, reaching around her throat and squeezing. Her eyes widened in delight, and she smiled brightly even through her near constant vocalisations.
"Harder?" Gallus asked, rolling his hindquarters in swift circular motions while he stared her out, a confident smirk decorating his beak. She nodded immediately, her eyes rolling back as he obliged without question or delay. His claw constricted, tightening around her airway and coaxing a gargling grunt of appreciation from the dragon. He could feel her trying to breathe beneath him, her intakes of air audibly constrained by his grip. The greatest part of it was her expression; starry-eyed and excited, brimming with satisfaction, exuding contentment, the teenage dragoness was in her element.
"Fuck yes," she gasped, her voice garbled, drool dribbling from the corners of her mouth as the griffon resumed his frantic pounding. "Oh, fuck, daddy!" Blood rushed to her head in a frenzy, her body buzzing from the abundance of hormones and the deprivation of oxygen. Smolder ignored it, delighting in the high, the all-encompassing haze that came from this carnal debauchery. Her pussy clenched, squeezing demandingly at the tapered dick battering her insides. Every time he drove his cock into her, she felt the blazing trail it left as her nerves ignited from the touch, the persistent, pervasive friction practically leaving her canal aflame. For a dragon, there was little better than the comforting, invigorating sensation of heat.
"Nearly there," Gallus' voice reached her, the urgency in his tone registering even to her sex-addled mind. "You want it inside or what?" She reacted slowly, her vision seeming to follow a second after she turned her eyes to look at him. It was like being drunk, but the pleasure was ever-increasing, and so much more vivid. She knew he was close; his cock had been growing hotter and swelling for the last several minutes, the shaft hardening to a new state of firmness that made her drool with even more lust. Besides, his voice was laden with desperation, his tone almost utterly grunts and half-stifled pants.
"Inside," she panted, her inner walls convulsing from the mere thought. "Balls deep, daddy!" Her words were slurred, but she made sure he heard them. She needed him to understand just how much she had to have him inside her. "Don't waste a single drop!"
Once the words were out of her mouth, he pulled back, and she realised with a startled delight why he'd asked her where he should finish. His knot, previously having deflated between his last climax and their current bout, had ballooned to its greatest extent, leaving him with a snatch-stretching mass and her with a lot to fit in. She hadn't realised over the last ten minutes or so that his crotch had stopped thumping squarely into her buttocks, or that his nuts had stopped bouncing off her ass. Slamming forward, he forced the bulge past her lips and inside, dragging a pleasured yelp from the dragon as her box strained to accommodate what he was roughly feeding her.
Gallus managed to get several short, gyrating thrusts off before the dam broke, his testicles releasing their burning load into the girl beneath him. The tension broke, and the bristling, electric rush of his orgasm rolled through him like a current, carrying along with it all the stress, all the anger and irritation, all of the negativity that had built up inside him for the last week. As his semen surged up his throbbing, pulsating cock, the griffon threw back his head and cawed, screeching like an eagle while he coated Smolder's velvety walls in his spunk. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over his mind, blurring his vision and blocking all coherent thoughts from his brain. All he could do was cry out and hold himself up on trembling forelimbs. He refused to stop thrusting, shoving back and forth with as much co-ordination as he could in his orgasm-rent condition.
The dragon below watched in awe and fascination as the boy atop her tensed and cawed, releasing her from his grip as he fell into the throes of climax. She wasn't far behind him. The rough insertion of his knot, the twitching cock buried deep in her, the desperate humping from the tied griffon, and the boiling stream of seed spurting thickly into her sent her careening into her own orgasm. Her voice cracked from its usual huskiness into a feminine wail and a barrage of disconnected expletives flowed into the room, melding with Gallus' own shouts and groans of abject pleasure. Like him, she was utterly ensconced by her climax, her mind smothered in euphoria and her body tingling like an electric current was running through her. She could hardly think, and so she cursed and swore and reveled in the sensations, gripping at her partner and pulling him close to her.
It was a short fall, and one muted by the fluff of his coat, but the sight was chaotic and disorderly, if they'd had the state of mind to care. A writhing pile of orange scales and blue feathers, a cat-bird and a bipedal winged lizard, emitting all sorts of noises and sounds, from groans and whimpers to babbling and breathy cusses. It took a while for them to wind down, their movements growing less prominent and regular, until at last, they lay still, except for the rising and falling of their bodies from their exhausted, heavy breathing.
"Did...did you...caw?" Smolder panted after a couple of minutes, her voice rough and raspy. She received a groan from the griffon, whose head was resting in the pillow. He looked up, raising his head slowly to look vaguely at her.
"Maybe," he admitted, cheeks already lit up from exertion. He grinned sheepishly. "I was...I was kinda hoping that...that it wasn't out loud."
"It was," the dragoness chuckled, blowing out a puff of smoke, starting as she saw it rise to join the thick, dark, swirling blanket covering the ceiling. She must've came harder than she realised; normally she was in complete control of her body. She just hoped she hadn't done anything else she hadn't intended.
"Did you...call me 'daddy'?"
Shit. She had.
"Um...did I?" she asked, swallowing nervously. The winged boy next to her didn't seem to pick up on her discomfort.
"Several times," he answered, apparently oblivious to her reddening cheeks. "Once when I choked you, once when you asked me to finish inside you, and multiple times when you...you know, came." He didn't receive a reply, and he raised his head further to catch her eyes. She averted her gaze, and he clicked that something was wrong. "I didn't say it was bad. I mean, first time it's ever happened for me, but if it makes you happy, that's fine." She still didn't respond, and he frowned. Gently turning her head with his claw, he leaned in for a kiss, pressing his beak to her lips and closing his eyes, ready for a tender post-coitus makeout.
She didn't reciprocate. She lay there, as stiff as a board. It didn't take long for the griffon to realise, and he turned his attention to her neck, hoping to coax some positive reaction from her. He received nothing. Moving on to her shoulder, he tried again, nipping and kissing at her, to no avail. With his knot deflated enough, he eased himself from her with a slight wince from the sensitivity, and slipped further down, planting soft kisses across her chest and lower, ever closer towards her pelvis.
"Gallus...what are you doing?"
He paused at her stomach, casting his eyes up to her. She was watching him, her countenance a mixture of unease and uncertainty. In all honesty, the griffon hadn't known where he was going with his little journey. He'd been wanting to get her to react, to stop focusing on whatever had gotten her so shy all of a sudden, but it was apparent that it wasn't working. Sure, he'd gotten her to speak up again, but she didn't look content or cheerful. Delivering one final smooch to her scaled stomach, he pulled his head back.
"I'm a treasure hunter in my spare time, and I heard there's a pot of gold under each dragon," he answered with a smirk. "Am I getting close?" He held in his sigh of relief when she smiled and her usual energy returned to her face, chortling at his response.
"Not under this dragon," she informed him. "Best go look on some dragon else if you wanna get rich. You'll go broke treasure hunting here."
"I'll invest in some new maps," he responded, crawling his way back up her body and laying down beside her. Letting out a sigh, he swept a claw through his plume, setting it in place. "Sorry if I made it weird for you."
"It's okay," she answered. "It's just stuff I haven't sorted out yet. Feelings, emotions, relationships, that sort of icky stuff. I've discovered some things about myself since I came to the School, and I haven't had to confront them yet, so I just put them aside and ignored them. Maybe I need to do something about that."
"If you want to talk about it, I-"
"No."
"Okay, that's fine too." He let the silence linger until she decided to break it.
"I need to figure it out myself before I involve anyone else. Thanks, though. If I ever want to talk, I'll come to you." Her smile seemed more full of its usual tomboyish confidence. "I'm not exactly great at sharing things."
"Me neither," Gallus reminded her, resting a claw behind his head.
"Well, maybe it's because I know you understand. I just want to clear up what we're doing here."
"Just fooling around, wasn't it?"
"Exactly. Just two friends having fun. I don't wanna kiss or cuddle or whisper sweet nothings, I just want some fun with a friend I trust, and then I want to go straight back to being friends."
"I was good enough to make it a repeat, was I?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes in response and smirked.
"Don't let it go to your head, featherbrain. It's not something special just because we're fuckbuddies now."
"It's an upgrade from friends without benefits."
"Asshole." Her tone didn't carry the venom her words implied. "I just want to make it clear that we're not a thing. We're still just friends with a bit extra on the side."
"Yeah, I know. I wasn't looking for anything more."
"Good. Thanks for the understanding."
"Right back atcha. Co-operation makes the world go round." Several seconds of silence passed before he sat bolt upright. "Wait...makes the world go round..." He swung his hindlegs off the bed and fell athletically onto all fours, an excited, beaming grin on his face. Smolder watched in confusion.
"Everything okay?" she asked. The griffon nodded excitedly, padding over to his desk.
"It makes the world go round," he repeated, picking up his pen. When he didn't recieve a response, he turned back to the bed, where the orange girl was propping herself up on an elbow. "That's the answer to Professor Fluttershy's essay. That's why the tribes co-operated. It's how you bring together different cultures to form something bigger and better. It's helping each other out so that you both win. The reason you do it is because it's a positive sum game. It's like giving a griffon a massage, or telling a dragon the answer to a homework question; it's the bedrock of a decent society! Every creature wins!" He looked at her with a relieved grin, this time with an equally contented dragon looking back at him. She shimmied her way to the edge of the bed and jumped down, heading for the door. She took a couple of steps before she realised her legs were a little less responsive than normal.
"Maybe we should clean up before we start the essay," she suggested, glancing down at her legs to see multiple rivulets of sexual effluence dribbling down them, both his and hers. Glancing back at the bed, she winced, noticing a thick smear of white where she'd dragged herself down. She probably stank of sweat and musk, too. When the blue lug responsible for half the mess turned around, his eyes widened at the sight before he relaxed and chuckled.
"Yeah, we probably should," he agreed, getting up from the seat. His cock had retreated inside his sheath, but he still needed to get the reek of sex from his coat. "I'll scrub your back, you scrub mine?"
"I'll make sure to mind the wings," she answered, earning a grin from her partner in crime. "Unless you wanna fool around in the shower? I'm totally down for that."
"Maybe after the essay?"
"Tonight, got it." She reached for the door handle before he could object. "And when we do...could you maybe spit in my face and call me a nasty little bitch?"
"Uh...yeah, sure. If you want that."
"That'd be so hot."
"Smolder...in the nicest way...you are, without a doubt, the nastiest girl I've ever been with."
"You're welcome." She winked and opened up the door wide. Normally, the heavy, intoxicating scent of forty five minutes' worth of lewd activities flooding into the hallway of a school dorm would be a concern, but today they could afford to not worry about that.
The same could not be said for the smoke. Usually, the emergence of smoke from a student's room would arouse suspicion. This would be doubly so if the student's room wasn't a dragon's. Neither of those would've been a problem due to the lack of students in the dormitories, however, had it not been for the smoke alarms that Headmare Twilight had insisted be installed in every hallway in the school not three weeks earlier.
The ear-splitting wail of the alarms cut through the silence of the building as soon as the barest wisps emerged from Gallus' room, alerting the entire institution to what appeared to be imminent danger, and where to find it. Covering their ears to try and drown out the banshee-like scream, the two teenagers exchanged panicked glances. Thinking fast, Gallus slammed the door shut and leaped up into the air, finding the fire alarm and pressing urgently on the reset. The din phased out immediately, and he flapped his wings to usher away any lingering smoke, the ringing in his ears persisting.
"What's going on?!" came a raspy voice, drawing the attention of the two students. Of course it'd be Professor Dash; who else but the speediest and most daring pegasus, as she often reminded them, would respond first? "Is any creature hurt?"
"Uh, no, it's fine," Smolder tried to bluff, moving her hands from her ears to cover her crotch as inconspicuously as she could. "It was a mistake. We were just curious about the alarms, so I pressed it, and Gallus had to fix it before anything happened." She pointed up the griffon in question, who was hovering in place, smiling sheepishly with his claws behind his back. He gave a meek wave as his name was called.
"You went and pressed the test button on the alarm?" Dash questioned, tilting her head. "Okay, I can believe that...but why do I smell smoke?" She sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose as she did.
"You're probably smelling me," Smolder answered, thinking off the top of her head. She hoped the professor couldn't smell more than the smoke. "I'm...well, a dragon, and stuff. And we breathe fire, so...smoke."
"Okayyyy..." Dash continued slowly. "But why is it coming from..." She sniffed the air again, following the scent to its source. "...this room here?" The prismatic pegasus returned her gaze to the dragoness. "That's Gallus' room, isn't it?" She looked back up at the griffon, who was visibly sweating. She didn't receive an answer. "I'm going to check." Her hoof reached for the handle.
"NO!"
The outburst from the two students made her step back in shock, and she looked between their frantic faces. She frowned, knowing they were hiding something.
"Okay, you're going to start being honest with me," she warned them. "What's going on here?" The cyan mare looked between them pointedly. Several seconds passed in strained silence, with Gallus slowly floating down to stand beside the dragon.
"Professor...I can answer that..."
"Yes?"
"But...before I do..." He glanced sideways at the blushing scaled girl. "Do you think we can take a shower? It's been a stressful week."
"You do what?!" Silverstream exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with boundless wonder. She held a tightly clenched claw to her cheek in excitement, her entire body practically glowing with excited energy at making another wonderful discovery. Her voice carried across Ponyville's quiet, snow-smothered streets, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere of the market town.
"We have a festival to see off winter," Sandbar answered, as interested in sharing the information as the hippogriff was in hearing it. "It's called Winter Wrap Up. Every year, at the end of the winter season, the citizens of Ponyville come together and shovel away the snow, clear away the heavy clouds, welcome the hibernating creatures back into the spring, and plant the crops. It's all done manually, and everything we get that year is a direct result of our efforts."
"That's so cool!" the feathery girl cooed, gushing at the traditions of the town. "Can hippogriffs take part too? Can any creature volunteer? Imagine being the one to wake up a warren full of bunnies!" She squeed at the mental image, dancing a little jig in place and falling several paces behind the group.
"Yona best at clearing snow," the yak declared, looking around at the fluffy white covering of the town. "Yaks not take entire day to clear snow. Snow always around in Yakyakistan, and yaks clear it in one hour. Yona could clear entire town in single day by herself."
"Why?" Gallus asked the earth pony. "It's not like animals didn't wake up from hibernation before ponies thought to wake them up, or that the snow wouldn't melt on its own."
"Tradition," Sandbar answered simply. "It brings the community together and gives us a sense of belonging and value." Gallus couldn't argue with that.
"They could afford to do it sooner," Smolder grumbled, her arms wrapped tightly around her. While the others were wearing a scarf, or a scarf and a woolly hat in Ocellus' case, the dragon was ensconced in a thick winter jacket and furry boots, a bitter frown decorating her face. The others chuckled at her grouching, walking their way towards the School, their hoof, paw, and claw steps crunching the snow beneath them.
They'd just gotten past the town square when the dragon made a sharp diversion towards one of the buildings. Looking over to their striding friend, the group realised where she was heading, and altered their course to intercept her.
"Smolder, wait!" Ocellus called out, trotting to try and catch up. "It's three o'clock in the afternoon!"
"Then we'll drink for two hours until it's time to drink," the dragoness retorted, yanking open the door and stepping into the tavern. The others had no choice but to follow her.
Cautiously entering the sparsely populated interior, they made an effort to shut the door quickly, pulling Yona through the comparatively tiny doorway so that they could keep the room in its toasty state. With the door shoved shut, the gentle heat of the tavern surrounded them fully, drawing a contented sigh from Smolder as she strode towards the bar, pulling off her gloves as she walked. The pony behind the bar eyed up the newcomers, rubbing down a glass with a dishcloth. The dragon rested an arm on the polished wood and glanced at the selection of bottles adorning the shelves.
"Hey, barkeep," she called out to the pony. "Can I get a half-pint of whisky, a stein of mead, three pints of whatever beer's on tap, and a shandy?" The bartender looked between her and the assortment of creatures accompanying her before shrugging and placing the glass down.
"That'll be thirty five bits," he warned the scaled customer, who reached into her coat pocket, withdrew the requisite number of coins, and let them clatter onto the wooden bartop. Scooping them across to him, the pony pocketed the payment and set about pouring out the orders.
"Happy Hearth's Warming," the dragon declared to her companions, turning round to face them. "Yeah, I know it was last month. Sue me."
"Better late than never," Silverstream chirped, picking out a table nearest the crackling fireplace and settling into a chair. Sandbar and Ocellus joined her, and Gallus squeezed his way past to sit on the chair next to the hippogriff. Yona plonked herself noisily on the floor, rattling the shelf behind the bar. The few other patrons glanced around in alarm, but the students ignored it, focusing their attention on the dragon as she made her way towards the table with the assortment of drinks.
"What are we gonna toast?" Sandbar asked, receiving his pint and glancing around at the others.
"The new year?" the changeling suggested, pulling her shandy towards her.
"Good times with friends?" Yona proposed, cradling her stein proudly.
"To new experiences?" Silverstream interjected, dipping a claw in her beer experimentally.
"How about..." Smolder drummed her claws on the table. "To the new year, and doing new things with friends?" She raised her whisky, and the others echoed her sentiment, clinking their glasses together before taking a drink. The dragon hummed as the spirit sloshed into her stomach, burning its path down her throat. "You guys make the cold bearable." She waited for the aww's and the thanks to die down before she added, "But the alcohol helps. A lot."
"But mostly us, right?" Ocellus asked, sipping tepidly at her own drink.
"Yeah, of course," Smolder replied. "I'm only here for one drink to keep me warm. You guys are the other 90%."
Two hours later, Smolder declared it was time to start drinking. The others voiced their agreement, pushing aside the empty glasses and tossing their bits into the middle for whoever was going to purchase the next round. It had been someone's, they knew, but no one was actually keeping track. Smolder had bought the first round, but that was a belated Hearth's Warming gift, so that hadn't counted. Ocellus had purchased Smolder another drink afterwards as thanks for the previous round, and Silverstream had done the same, so those hadn't counted either. Gallus had received a drink from Silverstream, he'd returned the favour, and then Yona had bought the entire table a round because, according to her, "Yaks know good things should be shared", and "Sharing makes friends happy."
Surprisingly, Sandbar seemed to be the one out of all of them who could handle his drink the best. Maybe it was because he was an earth pony, or maybe it was because he was the one out of all of them who actually had the most access to alcohol, but he was the only one who wasn't noticeably affected when five o'clock rolled around. Ocellus was in a near-constant state of giggles, Yona was humming Yak folk songs to herself, Smolder was smiling just a little more than usual, and Silverstream was just about swaying in her seat. Even Gallus found himself inexplicably more upbeat, his body and mind tingling with the familiar and comfortable sensation of being buzzed.
Halfway through whatever round they'd gotten to by that point, Sandbar excused himself to head to the toilet, and Gallus' eyes fell onto the pony's rump, watching as the green-hued tush moved in accordance with Sandbar's gait. The griffon spied the subtle ripples of the muscle working underneath, and had to fight back the urge to lick his beak. Pushing back his chair, the cat-bird followed his pony friend out of sight of the others. The door was still swinging closed when he rounded the corner, and the griffon managed to close the distance in a quick trot before it shut fully, stopping it with a claw and pushing it wide open.
"Hey," Gallus greeted with a smirk, stepping into the small room. Sandbar looked around, stopping in his tracks and turning to face his friend.
"Hey," he replied, quirking an eyebrow. "We just saw each other, you don't need to say hi again."
"You left the table, and now I'm seeing you again," Gallus countered, stepping nonchalantly towards the pony. "You're meant to say hi to your friends when you see them again, right?"
"Well....yeah, I suppose so," Sandbar answered, frowning. "Not sure it counts if it's only been a few seconds..."
"Details," the griffon responded dismissively. "I haven't seen you since school broke up for the winter vacation. A whole year ago."
"Last year," Sandbar corrected.
"That's what I said. A year ago."
"A couple of months ago."
"I think that's enough time to issue another 'hey' and ask how a friend is doing, don't you?"
"Sure, but we spent an hour at Ponyville train station waiting for everyone to arrive, and we've spent hours here. You asked me how I was doing then."
"Yeah, I did," Gallus confirmed, stepping right up to the pony. "But that was in public, and I couldn't do this in public." Pre-empting Sandbar's inevitable questions, the griffon reached up with a claw to scratch the back of the former's head. The effect was immediate, the earth pony's eyes closing and his body visibly relaxing. A low hum vibrated deep in his throat. "I figured that was something worth saving for just us two."
"Yeah..." Sandbar agreed. "You were right about that." He pushed his head into Gallus' affectionate stroking, moving with the scratching of the talons against his coat. Wherever the feathered quadruped touched, the muscles loosened and relaxed, leaving a weightlessness in its place.
"I usually am," his blue friend snarked, earning a small snort of amusement. He stayed silent, other than his deep breathing, occasional sighs, and soft whimpers.
"It's good to see you again," the pony murmured, opening his eyes back up. Gallus' talons had meandered their way through Sandbar's mane, scritching at the top of his head.
"Been thinking about me for the last year?"
"Last month."
"Same difference." The two chuckled softly before resuming their tender silence. "I've been thinking about you. On the train ride here, I was thinking about you a lot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Spending all winter with a bunch of grouchy griffons really makes you appreciate how good it is to see your friends. Especially the cute ones."
"You didn't say anything when you got off the train."
"Griffons aren't known for their ability to express things."
"So what changed?"
"Alcohol and time to think. And I've been thinking about maybe picking up where we left off last time."
"Last time? You mean...?" The green boy looked up to Gallus' grinning face. "I didn't know if that was-"
"A one time thing?" the griffon finished. "I never said that. I said I'm not exclusive. Doesn't mean we can't have fun together. Last time was pretty good, so why stop a good thing?"
"I'm glad, but..." He gestured with his hoof between Gallus and the bathroom door. "Well, I thought you and Silverstream were, you know..." The feathered boy stared at him with an expression of mild incredulity.
"Did you miss the part where I just reminded you that I'm not exclusive?"
"Well...no, but...you were being a bit more than just friendly with her today."
"You noticed that?" The cat-bird's voice dropped into uncertainty for a moment, and he looked awkwardly surprised.
"Dude, I felt it," Sandbar informed him. "You kept moving the wrong hindleg and brushing against mine under the table instead of hers. I looked over at one point and you were scratching the back of her head. Which reminds me..." He extended his neck for the griffon, who sighed internally and resumed his tender touching. The pony's muzzle stretched into a pleased smile, and he continued. "She brushed you with her tail when she got you a drink, you locked eyes with her when you got her a drink - and her voice was definitely flirty when she said thanks - and you've both been playing hoofsies under the table since drink one and a half."
"Do you think the others saw?"
"Maybe? I don't think they're noticing too much at the moment."
"Good point." He rubbed the pony's ear between two digits, flicking the tip casually as he massaged and caressed the fluffy triangle.
"If you've got anything planned with her, I don't want to-"
"Do you want me to spend the evening with her?" Gallus cut in, exasperation creeping into his voice. "I mean, that does sound like fun." He stopped his kneading and retracted his claw, pulling a whimpering whine from Sandbar as he did so. "Sure, I was planning to start the new bottle of lube with you, and I was hoping to share my first tumble of the year with you, but if you'd prefer to pass that on to Silverstream, I won't force you." The pony's mouth gaped, but before he could speak, the griffon turned as if to leave. "Such a shame. I saved up all for you, too." His tail flicked up, exposing his two dangling jewels, plump with at least a week's worth of cream.
"No, wait!" Sandbar pleaded, the teasing breaking the pony's resolve. All the doubts in his mind fled in that instant. "I want it! I want to be your first tumble of the year, I want to be the one you open the lube with!" He bit his lower lip, face burning red as he reduced himself to a begging, needy slut. "I...I want to be the one you rub hindlegs with..."
"You want it?" Gallus asked, turning back to face his friend. There was an intensity to his gaze now, something new and fierce. Sandbar swallowed, cowed by the look he was receiving.
"Yes."
"You want to be my little bitch for tonight?"
"Yes, I do."
"You want me to knot you? To force you down on my dick and breed you until I'm drained, and you're absolutely flooded?"
"Oh, Celestia, yes, I do!"
"You want me to empty your balls until your orgasms are completely dry?"
"Y-yes! Yes I do!"
"I bet you'd let me fuck you here with no lube, wouldn't you? I'd just need to drag you into a stall and bend you over."
Silence. The pony looked down in shame, his cheek ablaze. Several seconds passed, and then several more, until a claw hooked itself under his chin and forced him to look up. A pair of sky-blue orbs stared him down.
"I asked you a question, bitch."
"...yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Y-yes sir. I would let you."
"Good boy." The grip loosened, and Gallus used his thumb to stroke Sandbar's cheek. "See you back at the table. Try not to come back with a stiffy." Casting his red-faced friend a wink, the griffon turned and strode out of the bathroom, leaving the sole occupant alone with his thoughts, a troublesome erection, and a full bladder. He tried to curse the fluffy, feathered, hunky griffon, but couldn't put his heart into it.
Leaving the door to swing shut behind him, Gallus began his proud stride back towards the table, but was stopped after a couple of steps by something grabbing his hindleg. Looking over his shoulder, he found himself facing the other feathery figure from his friendship group.
"Hey," the hippogriff greeted, smiling widely at him. "I happened to be walking past when you came out of the restroom, what good timing!" When she dragged him to the side, he began to doubt that she'd just happened upon him outside of the toilets.
"Yeah, pretty convenient," the griffon agreed, his chuckle falling well short of sincerity. "I would've been back at the table though, so-"
"There are other creatures at the table," she interrupted cheerily, slurring her words a little. "I wanted to talk to you. You're the creature I want to talk to right now."
"Oh. Yeah, talking is good. I'm cool with that. But, uh, we could talk at the table."
"Yeah, but we can't do this at the table."
Gallus was impressed with how swift and co-ordinated Silverstream could be even when drunk. He wasn't even entirely sure when the kiss started. One second she was looking at him with unmistakable lust, and the next his vision was filled with the pink of her forehead and the blue of her mane, her claw placed on the back of his head to guide and steady the exchange of passion. It took him a second or two to recover from being caught off-guard, but then he sank into the kiss, sliding one of his claws up her side towards her neck, which he began to scratch softly. She whined into the kiss, pulling him deeper and gripping him more tightly.
It took several minutes before she broke away, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. Their beaks remained slightly parted, the two of them dragging in some much needed air.
"I missed you," she whispered, burying her head in his neck and purring softly. Her breath brushed through his coat, followed by her beak as she planted a flurry of soft kisses against his skin.
"I missed you too," he admitted, stroking her head. "Griffonstone has gotten better, but it's great being back here with you guys. You especially." He felt her smile at that extra detail.
"I could use some help unpacking," she suggested, pulling her head back to look him in the eyes. "It's only a couple of things, so that'll take not even five minutes. After that, we could just spend some time together. Just me and you." She batted her eyes playfully.
"I'm a bit busy tonight, sorry," the griffon apologised, seeing her face fall just a little. "But I can help you all you want tomorrow. I'll clear my schedule."
"Really?" Her eyes brimmed with joy and her expression lifted. He nodded, smiling along with her.
"Really," he confirmed. "Just me and you. We have a lot of catching up to do." The hippogriff leaned in for another kiss-
BANG!
The bathroom door slammed shut, the loud noise prompting the two of them to leap apart in a frightened panic. Looking to see what had caused the disturbance, they were met with their mutual earth pony friend, who blushed, whistled, and glanced away, pointedly avoiding looking in their direction. Once he'd rounded the corner, Silverstream broke the awkward silence.
"Um...see you at the table?"
"Yeah...see you at the table."
"Okay." She didn't move. Neither did Gallus. A few seconds later, she added, "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow." She leaned in and pecked a quick kiss on his cheek before heading into the girl's bathroom, leaving the griffon alone with her lingering touch. Even through the buzz of the alcohol, it burned hotter, and he couldn't quite stop himself from grinning, even as he made his way back to the table. Tomorrow was looking promising, but tonight-
Tonight was looking to be very, very fun indeed. When six o'clock rolled around, the six of them had decided to call it a day and finish the walk to the School, walking in something approximating a straight line towards the dormitories. Gallus had asked for ten minutes to get his room in order, and Sandbar had taken the time to prepare for the evening ahead. The poor stallion probably hadn't expected to be brought into Gallus' room to find rope attached to the two top corners of the bed. When questioned, Gallus had just nudged the pony onto the bed and laconically replied that he was trying out a new kink.
Twenty five minutes later, with the pony writhing in place, his forelimbs tied above his head and his cock achingly hard, leaking pre-cum like a loose tap, the griffon decided to declare the experiment a success. There was a new layer of enjoyment in holding his partner at bay, having them cede complete control to him. Sandbar couldn't get himself off, and he couldn't stop Gallus from doing anything. The griffon was utterly in charge; he held all the power, and that knowledge was invigorating. Witnessing the effect he had on the panting, whimpering pony, and knowing that it was his action and his decisions causing that effect, it was a whole new level of hot.
"Is this better than playing hoofsies under the table?" Gallus asked with a smirk. Laying on his back, propping himself up on his elbows, he stroked Sandbar's shaft with his paws, slick with the copious amount of leakage. The soft pads and the fluff were a surprisingly pleasant combination against the hot cockflesh, the barest movements coaxing more watery pre from the diamond hard-prick.
"So much better," the stallion replied, a chuckle breaking through the panting. "Hooves don't feel anywhere near this good. I don't know if I'll ever be able to masturbate again." He lay his head back on the pillow, his visage morphing into a gallery of pleasure. He gasped, he gawked, he craned back his head, he bit his bottom lip, he pressed his lips together tightly, he squeezed his eyes shut, he gazed in awe. Every sensation that coursed through the pony, every pulse or pang of pleasure, every spark of stimulation, all of it was telegraphed to Gallus.
"Even better than my claws?" the griffon questioned, synchronising the movement of his hindlegs so that his paws moved parallel to each other, lifting and falling in slow, steady sweeps. Sandbar sucked in a breath and nodded, his rump rising a little from the bed.
"S-softer," he panted, jerking his lower half upwards to try and eke more satisfaction from the griffon's measured pawjob. "I think I've found my new favourite thing." If his dick was anything to go by, that certainly seemed true. Other than the sea of excitement glazing his schlong like early morning dew, his glans was flaring and the pole was flexing and throbbing, a sure sign that the pony was well on his way to release.
"Perfect for doing this, don'tcha think?" Gallus asked knowingly, deciding to act on his sub's bliss. Shifting one of the paws upwards to graze the prick's plateau, knowing just how sensitive it would be, the griffon stirred his padded underside in deliberate circles. He needed only to use a feather-light touch and the most modest of movements to elicit a sharp gasp from his friend.
"It's too good," the earth pony warned, wriggling his hips. "Oh, Celestia, if you keep touching me like that-"
"You get to blow your load when I say you do," the winged teenager rebuked the stallion brusquely, purposefully shoveling a level of gravel into his tone. The terse reminder caused the pony to shrink a little, leaving him whimpering as the dom continued to toy with him. "How much do you want it? How much do you want release?"
"S-so much!" Sandbar whined. "I need it! I really need it!"
"I need it...?"
"I...I..." There was hesitation.
"You know what you have to say."
"I-I know, but...it's...it's awkward..."
"There's no 'but' here - there's a choice, and there's consequences to those choices. You either want it or you don't."
"...I need it...m-my..." There was still some reluctance, but it was fading away in the face of the promise of the permission that the pony so desperately wanted, and so clearly needed. "M-my...my..." He was so close; all he needed was a little push.
"Disappointing," the griffon tutted, slowly retreating from Sandbar's meat. As in the tavern, the pony's eyes widened at the prospect of his opportunity being taken away from him.
"My alpha!" he cried out, thrusting his hips up and causing his cock to swing in arc. Stringy pre-cum sloped through the air before breaking and sticking to everything it touched. "I need it, my alpha! Please, please let me finish! Please!"
"You belong to me, don't you?"
"Yes sir! You're my alpha, I belong to you!"
"And what are you?"
"I-I'm yours! Whatever you need me to be; I'm your bitch, your slut, your sub, your whore, your serf! I belong to you, sir!"
Fuck yeah, the griffon thought, the swell of his ego nudging the grin onto his beak. Now this is something I could get used to. Can't believe what I've been missing.
"Good boy," he congratulated, returning his padded paws to their previous position. "For being such an honest little serf, you get to cum." This time, the circling motions were fast and the touch was firm, the time for teasing well and truly past. Now it was about reaping the rewards of his hard work up to this point. "Cum for your alpha."
And what a reward it was! Gallus had never heard Sandbar cry out in such a way, the pleasure forcing the air from the stallion's lungs as his back arched and he pushed his pelvis upwards urgently, his cock erupting like a volcano. The first jet hit the paw above with such force that it spattered in all directions, coating Sandbar's belly, the bedsheets, and the two quadrupedal creatures' hindlegs in strings and droplets of jizz. The griffon kept up his spherical stroking, intercepting the second ejaculation mid-shot as his foot passed over the pony's dickhole, leaving an arc of spunk to come crashing down around them and drenching the sides and top of his fluffy appendage in the thick white cream. Round and round the cat-bird dragged his paw, smearing Sandbar's semen across the seed-spurting corona of the pony's prick, until both his friend's dick and his own perambulatory appendage were glazed in the sexual produce.
After the first five fountainous expulsions, the stallion's shots eased off into smaller jets and streams, splashing hotly against their bodies and staining their fur. Neither cared, both of them dedicated to riding out Sandbar's euphoric orgasm for as long as they could. When all that was left were dribbles and the weak oozing that came at the tail-end of a climax, the griffon lowered his foot and began to jerk off the pony once more, pushing his friend to release just a little bit more. He succeeded, the slick, goo-coated wang squeezing out a particularly pearly dollop of ball batter.
"Someone was pent up," the dom snickered, observing the mess made on his body. Both of his hindlegs were decorated in a depraved patchwork of white, the gooey mess dispersed unevenly across his blue coat, but the most heavily covered part of him was the foot that had been playing across the sensitive glans. The topside of his paw was perversely slathered in messy stripes, and every time he flexed his toes, he felt the spunk between them squish and ooze, turning frothy from his interaction. The bottom of his paw was absolutely glazed in a slurry of the stallion's sticky fluids, with viscous, stringy ropes of spooge dangling from his pads. "You made a mess, now clean it."
Sandbar didn't hear most of what Gallus had said, still recovering from the rush of his orgasm, but the words did eventually penetrate the swirling haze of his mind and register. When he looked up, the griffon had shifted closer, holding his cum-coated paw above the pony's muzzle expectantly. For a few long seconds, the stallion stared, unsure of what he should do. Of course, there was only one thing he could do, and so, curiously and cautiously, he extended his tongue, meeting a drooping strand of his own load. The taste wasn't unpleasant, and he opened his maw wider to lick in broad strokes, the ropes of his ejaculate pooling on his tongue.
The griffon watched on with an excited contentment, the sight of the pony obediently lapping at his foot to clean it of the mess sending a delightful thrill through him. The process was as surprisingly pleasant as it was thorough, the brushing of the wet, warm muscle against his luxuriously soft pads and his supple skin tingling and relaxing him. He'd never really given much thought to that part of the body - he'd only found out that hoof massages were a thing after he'd arrived in Ponyville - but there was something immeasurably gratifying about having another creature service him in a way that shouldn't be sexual, and yet was. Maybe it was the non-sexual aspect of it that made it so sexy? To have someone else submit in a sexual context in a way that wasn't conducive to sex? Or perhaps it was the self-abasement, the willful submission of another to doing something as filthy as cleaning their own seed from his body. The way his cock stirred at that thought told him that that was it; he loved having his partner forego their own dignity to please him, to show them just how devoted they were to his pleasure.
Those thoughts occupied Gallus' mind as Sandbar cleaned the base of his foot and worked upwards, dutifully slipping his tongue between the griffon's toes to lap up the creamy deposits that had dribbled down. Moving around to the sides, and then the upside, the pony left the griffon's entire appendage sparkling clean, wiping all traces of his jizz from the blue coat of his friend. Looking up for approval, the griffon grinned and switched paws, tapping the stallion on the muzzle playfully as he did so. Luckily, the cleanup for that leg was far less, and soon enough, he was done, earning a nod from his dom.
"Excellent job, boy," Gallus commented, sitting himself up. "I'm gonna untie you. But while I do..." He crawled forwards until he'd reached the headboard, his toned ass perched right above Sandbar's head. With a grin, he lowered himself until he met the pony's muzzle. "Be a good little serf and eat my ass."
The words were barely out of the griffon's beak before he felt the hot, heavy presence of the stallion's tongue dragging wetly across his anus, the unmistakable texture pushing firmly against his ring as it slid through his crack. For a moment, the blue male paused, frozen in surprise at the sheer willingness and reaction of his friend to do something so naughty. The hot breath against his sphincter made his eyes flutter a little, and he struggled to not gyrate against Sandbar's face as the tongue slurped down his taint before returning to press at his pucker. The repetitive licking was insistent and demanding, following an ordained path that worked as much to relax the feathered teen as it did to turn him on. If there was one thing that was becoming apparent about this encounter, it was that Sandbar had a very talented tongue, and an implacable appetite.
So proficient was the stallion, in fact, that Gallus momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be doing something other than basking in the lascivious tongue-lashing, opting instead to sit there for several long seconds before his awareness kicked in and reminded him that, yes, he was supposed to actually be untying his friend. Even so, he lifted his forelimb slowly, leaning his upper body towards the leftmost rope first, and letting his claw drift lethargically to the knot. It was difficult to focus on loosening the bind with the huffing of hot breath against his saliva-slick asshole, and the firm slurping that accompanied it - or at least that was the excuse he was using for taking his sweet time. It wasn't like the pony was going to complain anyway, not if the frantic oral flittering below was anything to go on.
When the first rope was loosened, Gallus leaned in the other direction, picking at the tie lazily while the pony continued to slobber and sloppily make a meal of his rear. He'd known Sandbar could be submissive, but this was a whole new dimension, and it was as surprising as it was welcome. He wondered if other creatures were as perversely eager as the stallion, his mind ticking through some of his other friends.
With both ropes untied, the griffon eased his way backwards, removing his rump from his friend's face and giving the latter room to breathe. He noted, with no small amount of satisfaction, a ravenous look in Sandbar's eyes, the pony tracking his movements as he pulled back to his previous position.
"On all fours," he ordered, his eyes remaining glued to the stallion's posterior as it was raised upwards. Sandbar's front lay plush against the sheets, his back curved to lift his rump into a prime position for ravaging and his hindlegs spread wide enough to expose his fuzzy coin purse. His cock was rigid again, twitching with the beat of his heart and curving slightly against gravity towards his belly.
Gallus wasn't a mountaineer or a prospector, but he knew that he was going to mount that peak and stake his claim.
That would come later. For the time being, the griffon sat himself behind his friend and wrapped a claw around the thick rod hanging between the pony's legs, beginning a slow pumping as his beak sought out the stallion's buttocks, nipping at the cushiony cheeks and reveling in the coos and the throaty purr it drew from the other male. He kept the pressure light and consistent - both the stroking and the nibbling - to start, easing the stallion into a relaxed daze, sating Sandbar's desire to be touched and pleased just enough to draw the pony into a dreamy stupour. It was the nearest thing to hypnosis that Gallus could manage, and the only thing that stopped him from being immensely smug about it was that he only knew for certain that it worked on Sandbar; Silverstream was far too energetic to be satiated by anything less than his full attention.
The griffon moved his head further inwards, brushing his beak against one of Sandbar's heavy nuts, feeling it lift a little in response. He could imagine the sphere filling with thick, salty semen, the pony's body undoubtedly hurrying to produce more after his last explosive climax. Gallus was happy with that; the more Sandbar's drooping factories created, the more the athletic teenager would be able to wring from his friend. The visual image of Sandbar gushing and drooling and streaming onto the bed, pushed to the depths of depravity by Gallus' own doing, pulled a low murmur from the griffon, the noise vibrating in his throat. He slid his tongue across the surface of Sandbar's sack, dragging across the smooth flesh and feeling the contour of the pony's large gonads, swiping upwards and around each one in turn.
The blue male's tongue slowed as it travelled upwards, spending a good portion of time teasing the sensitive orbs above the pony's drooling member, teasing more pre from them to dribble in a thin stream onto the bed below. Drawing his tongue up Sandbar's taint, Gallus inched his way ever closer to the pony's backdoor, stopping short of actually touching it. He worked back and forth, creeping closer with every pass and withdrawing like a slow, rolling tide. He flattened out his tongue and swept it slowly upwards, teasing the pony's sensitive skin as he crawled slowly and deliberately towards Sandbar's exposed, flexing fuckhole. He knew the green-coated submissive could feel the Gallus' breath against his barrier, could feel just how near the griffon was to satiating that desperate, nagging need. All it took was to flick his tongue upwards, taking care to avoid brushing against Sandbar's wrinkled rotunda, and work his way back downwards with the underside of his tongue to draw a shiver and a sigh from his friend.
When Sandbar's legs started to tremble and his hips began revolving in restrained shifts, that's when Gallus finally acquiesced to the pony's desires and graced him with the contact he so desperately wanted. Winding his tongue around the circumference of Sandbar's testicles one last time, the winged dom finally conceded and climbed his tongue upwards, not halting himself before he passed over the bump between Sandbar's cheeks. A coo reached the griffon's ears, and he focused his tonguework on the wrinkled ring, running up and down in measured sweeps and receiving a flow of gentle vocalisations to encourage him along. The pony's rear followed his friend's ministrations, lifting slightly as Gallus swiped up and returning to its previous position on the subsequent downstroke. The subtle, repetitive gyration wasn't lost on the griffon, who added a little more pressure as he passed across Sandbar's star just to eek an involuntary shudder from the subby earth pony.
Touching the tip of his tongue to Sandbar's dock, Gallus started circling around the raised ring, tracing an elliptical path around the very edge of the equine's sphincter. He started in a wide orbit, quickly narrowing his drift in a spiral towards the epicenter of the stallion's backdoor. Swirling clockwise, then counter-clockwise, then clockwise again, switching whenever the thought occurred to him to do so, Gallus felt out the creases and the folds of his partner's rim, indulging himself with disciplined enthusiasm. He was going to play his part as an attentive master, and his rimjob - as thorough and willing as it was - was reflective of that. He was in complete control, even while he mapped out the texture and topography of the ponut before him. Sliding to the centre of Sandbar's asshole, he wiggled a couple of centimeters inside, flexing his appendage against the instinctive squeeze from the pony's muscles and drawing a hitched intake of breath from his friend.
That was an unmistakable sign.
Withdrawing his face from the equine's rump, the griffon opened his beak and slipped two fingers into his maw, drooling as much saliva as he could in order to soak the digits. His target was already coated in a layer of oral lubricant, something which stayed the cat-bird's gaze as he slickened his claws, but it was hard to have too much, especially given that he was planning to ramp things up a notch. Besides, adding fluids and making a mess was half the fun. Satisfied at his state of preparedness, Gallus pulled his claws away from his gob and stroked them up and down Sandbar's taint, dragging them in slow strides ever closer to their final destination. A few laps of the track, and Gallus pressed one finger against the elastic ring, tapping it gently to tease his pony slut. The whimper confirmed that his tactic was working.
"Good boys get stuffed," Gallus spoke up, his tone husky and deep. After the feminine noises coming from Sandbar for the past ten minutes, it was a delightfully masculine addition to the bedroom. "You haven't thanked me for tasting you. Maybe you should - if you want me to continue giving you what you want, of course."
"Thank you for tasting me, sir," the pony spoke up immediately, his voice, marred by breathlessness, making its way to the griffon from between his spring green hindlegs. "I don't deserve someone as - OH!"
The first finger sank readily into the hot, squeezing confines of Sandbar's ass, plunging through the token resistance of his backdoor's defences. Gallus took the initiative as soon as he'd heard the first few words, not wanting anything poetic or ostentatious. He'd had enough of that tonight, and hearing the surprised yelp of unexpected pleasure was satisfying enough. A few teasing strokes later, the griffon eased his second finger beside the first, sinking both digits deep into Sandbar's ass at a steady but persistent rate. The pony clenched, but accepted the gentle stretching, rapidly growing used to the intrusion. Their presence inside him wasn't entirely unfamiliar, after all.
Quickly finding the bump he was looking for a short way down his sub's passage, Gallus curled his fingers inwards, caressing the sensitive bulb in short, deliberate swipes. The contact caused the pony to shudder, his pick straining upwards towards his stomach and growing more turgid. The griffon kept his hold on the drooling horsecock, his claw flicking back and forth in a blur as he jacked Sandbar ever closer towards his next climax. The twin sensations - the short, smooth circulating strokes against the stallion's prostate and the long jerking tugs along his engorged pride - climbed in intensity, sending Sandbar rocketing to that inexorable destination. The blue dom felt the tension building even as his claw sped up and down the leathery skin in his grip, passing over the beautiful ridge of the medial ring, and bumping against the expanding flare with every downward pass.
When the submissive colt peaked, it was hard and messy. Sandbar's voice hitched and his hips jerked as if confused between which source of pleasure he should maximise. Gallus worked on both, maintaining his powerful handjob and finger-fucking the stallion's asshole, abandoning the measured caresses for an aggressive probing that resulted in a powerful, vice-tight clenching around his intruding talons, and a bountiful feast for his ears and eyes. As Sandbar wailed in the ecstasy of his release, Gallus watched on to see the fruits of his efforts, gleefully observing the hot gush from the pulsing pipe in his grasp. Even after the volume of the first orgasm, the pony still had a lot of produce to give, and Gallus witnessed it spurt in a spate onto the bedsheets, each contraction coming fast enough that the cream practically flowed from Sandbar's cockhole in a continuous stream. The way the semen settled thickly on the sheets below reminded the griffon of a pool underneath a waterfall.
Once the flow had diminished from a river, to a stream, to a brook, Gallus removed his claws from the pony, the ones touching him inside and outside, and sat back to gaze upon the result. The fluffy teenage equine, rump raised in the air, tail resting against his own back, hindlegs quivering and dick throbbing weakly between them, a thin string of jizz bridging him and the bed, anus dilated and clenching around nothing - it was a job well done, alright, and it was delightful. Grinning, the griffon brought a claw down hard on his subby slut's buttocks, delivering a resounding slap to one cheek and then the other. Sandbar yelped, rudely yanked from his orgasmic high.
"On your front," the cat-bird snapped, his authoritative tone underpinnned by an excited, hungry playfulness. Playing with Sandbar like a toy had been spectacular, but his own physical desire had only built up as a result, and now it was baying, yowling for satisfaction. Grasping the cyan tail in a claw, the blue dom tugged downwards harshly, directing his plaything to lay down. Sandbar obeyed, letting his hindlegs fold underneath him until he was laying flat, his cock trapped between the bed and his stomach, and the sticky mess squishing into the underside of his coat. "Now, stay."
Hopping from the bed, Gallus trotted over to the cabinet and opened a drawer, painfully aware of the tumescence swinging heavily between his hindlegs. Trying to ignore the presence as much as he could, he rummaged around until he found the bottle he was looking for, pulled it out, and returned to his position behind Sandbar without shutting the drawer. Flicking open the cap, he leaned back to expose himself to the upturned bottle, impatiently squeezing the container to coax out the fluid within. After what felt like minutes, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, the transparent goop emerged, falling agonisingly slowly towards Gallus' tapered member, the griffon watching its progress with restless eyes. He squeezed the bottle harder, hurrying its fall. As it landed, his claw reached around to his member to slather it across his flesh, twitching as he made contact. Every nerve along his member buzzed with anticipation and need, and he was hot to the touch. Mindful not to accidentally nudge himself to the point of no return, the griffon swept his claw up and down, smoothing out the thick layer of glistening lubricant, adding more and more until his surface felt so slick it could only be described as waterlogged. Snapping the cap shut, he tossed the bottle carelessly aside and dropped atop his pony sub.
"Ready?" the griffon asked, slipping his slick pole into the pony's valley and gyrating, hotdogging the flushed stallion. It was so simple, but the near-frictionless gliding somehow stoked the fire in his loins into an inferno, and he very nearly gave in to his base desires. Resisting the urge with a shudder, he waited for Sandbar's confirmation. He had an image to uphold, after all.
"Yeah," his partner breathed, looking back with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. Gallus sat upright, locking eyes with the stallion as his claw pushed his member downwards, the tip of his cock passing over the wrinkled ring and pressing against the centre of the earth pony's barrier. Sliding both claws up to Sandbar's waist, the griffon shoved forwards with his hips, his crown parting the exterior of Sandbar's rear entrance. There was little resistance after the earlier activities, and Gallus was able to sink his erection into the pony in a single stroke, delighting in the expressions that flashed across his partner's face. First came the widening eyes, and then the mouth followed suit, and then the eyes clenched shut. Classic, and no less wonderful a sight than the first time. It was something that didn't become cliche no matter how many times he witnessed it, Gallus found, bottoming out in the bottom's bottom with a small sigh.
Sandbar turned his head forward, and the griffon turned his attention to the sensations of his partner's body. The most obvious was the tightness around his cock, the clinging walls ensconcing his sheathed tool, and the squishy slickness afforded by his generous application of lubricant. It was hotter for that reason, too, the covering seeming to absorb the heat radiated by his favourite pony's passage. His rod flexed involuntarily, and the blue top acted on his body's urges, pulling out and letting the ridges of his underside drag against the other male's insides, drinking in the pony's long intake of breath that resulted. Stopping at his crown, Gallus shoved his hips forward again, watching his cock disappear into his lover with a lewd satisfaction, the elastic muscle stretching to accommodate his girth.
Leaning his body over the pony's, Gallus swiveled his hips, working into a steady rhythm, driving deep into Sandbar's bowels with every shift forwards. He quickly built up speed, refusing to sacrifice penetration as he upped his pace; every shove forwards went until his amber loins knocked against the pony's butt, and he pulled back to the base of his crown with every withdrawal. The rocking drew whimpers and whines from the sub, and strengthened the primal urges in Gallus until he let out a feral growl, his restraint withering under the rising boil of ineluctable lust. He slowly leaned closer, resting his chest against Sandbar's back, his crotch thumping into the pony's buttocks with a plap-plap-plap. His instincts started to prod at him, urging him to do more, to surrender his civility and embrace untrammeled carnality, and the faster he went, the stronger he sawed back and forth, the louder the demand became, growing to an angry yell as he rammed his pony partner.
"Your ass was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?" he growled in Sandbar's ear, nipping at the triangle as he spoke. "Your body is mine to ravish, isn't it?" He made no effort to stop his claw as it travelled to the pony's throat and grasped, squeezing with just enough force that the pony couldn't escape. Sandbar's eyes widened, and the griffon caught a flash of fear, followed by a surge of excitement, a combination which spurred the dom to tighten his grip momentarily.
"Y-yes!" the pony forced out, struggling to answer amidst his heavy panting. Their eyes locked again, and Gallus sneered, a sadistic flourish of satisfaction coursing through him.
"You're my cum dumpster, aren't you?" he followed up, pressing a talon against the pony's cheek, the sharpness pricking his skin without breaking it. A confused flurry of emotions passed across the pony's face, but arousal won out, and he nodded as firmly as he could, confined by the griffons grasp. "Say it!"
"I'm your cum dumpster, sir!"
"Damn fucking straight you are!" The griffon released Sandbar's throat and swiftly moved his claw to grasp the pony's mane, yanking his head back. The pony yelped at the sudden sensation, the sharpness of the pain quickly overshadowed by the satisfaction of being so roughly manhandled. "Whose cum dump are you?"
"Y-yours, sir!"
"Whose cum dumpster are you?"
"G-Gallus', s-sir! I'm Gallus' cum dumpster!"
The dominant griffon pushed Sandbar's head back down, holding his muzzle to the bed as he began to plow the pony in earnest, plunging into the squirming, wailing stallion without any restraint. He rutted without a care, growling and snarling like a feral beast. Only when he felt the coiling pressure in his balls did he assert some level of restraint back on himself, pushing aside the haze of his lust to snap some last words to his partner.
"What's your purpose, serf? What are you good for?"
"I-I'm your cum dumpster, sir!"
"That's right, and now you're gonna live up to that." His rod swelled inside the pony, his knot fully expanded already. "Say my name, bitch!" With a savage thrust, he rammed his knot against the teenager's abused asshole, squeezing it past the token resistance and popping it past the pony's anal gate. Jackhammering in place, the griffon gripped Sandbar's neck as his climax crashed over him, his backed-up nuts releasing their creamy load, and jerking back and forth out of instinct. Gallus struggled to make sense of what was happening against the battering wash of hormones and chemicals flooding his brain, closing his eyes to avoid being completely overwhelmed.
His dick pulsated and pushed out jet after jet of ball batter into the male beneath him, every pulse feeling like he was hosing Sandbar's insides with a gallon per shot. He could make out Sandbar crying out his name, the sound pulling a grunt from the griffon as well as a tighter contraction, his dong flexing so hard it was bordering on uncomfortable. The sensations melded together into a powerful, pleasurable mass, his body collapsing atop the pony once more, shuddering as the cacophony melded into a staccato of aftershocks. Eventually, breathing ragged and limbs still unsteady, he opened his eyes and raised his head.
"Y-you alright?" he asked Sandbar, who looked back at him with a smile. The sight made the griffon grin again, his aggression sated by the mind-melting climax.
"Yeah," came the reply. "I feel g-great. Light. Floaty, sorta." The pony giggled adorably at that, and the griffon chuckled. "A little s-sore, but...really g-good."
"Good," Gallus answered, drifting his claws to Sandbar's sides. "Keep me updated, okay? Let me know...if you stop...feeling good."
"What do you mean?" the pony asked, looking back in confusion. "I feel...really good...right now."
"Yeah, I know," the griffon replied, stroking his friend softly. "But just...keep talking to me, alright? Let me know what's going through your head."
"Well, alright," the stallion agreed, still apparently unconvinced. "Breathing's easier again. Um...I'm enjoying having you on top of me." He shrugged and hummed a little, seemingly enjoying the moment. Half a minute later, he continued. "My neck's feeling a bit tender. I'm a little sleepy...no, not sleepy, exactly just..." He trailed off, and a frown started to form across his muzzle. "...I dunno. I don't...I..."
"Sandbar?"
"...I feel drained. Tired, but not physically. Sort of...emotionally." His frown deepened. "Gallus...I don't feel great."
"Hey, it's okay," the griffon spoke up, slipping his forelimbs underneath his friend to draw him into a hug. "Keep talking to me. That's important. What are you feeling?"
"I...I don't know. Upset? Hurt? Betrayed, for some reason?" Sandbar bit his lip, and started to wiggle. "Worthless? I feel...objectified." He slumped. "I feel like I'm just something for you to use. Like a toy that's gone out of fashion."
"You're not," Gallus assured him, scratching the pony's belly lightly, talons tracing affectionately across the soft coat. "You're my friend. You're not just a toy."
"...I'm not just a cum dumpster, am I?" Sandbar's voice was soft and distant, and almost pleading.
"No, of course not," the blue male answered, his tone assertive. "You're my friend. I care about you. What I said and what I did when we were having fun, that was a role we were filling. Both of us. We agreed to it. But right now, you're not my serf, you're not my bitch, you're not my slut. You're a close and dear friend." Cautiously, Gallus brushed his cheek against Sandbar's, gently making contact before turning and nuzzling the pony's neck, making sure to avoid touching the tip of his beak to any skin.
"Gallus?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you kiss me?"
The griffon didn't answer verbally. Instead, he brushed his beak against Sandbar's lips and let the two of them dance, finding their way around a slow, comforting embrace. It wasn't lustful or passionate, but it wasn't exactly sensual and romantic, either. It was compassionate and kind, and brimming with a soft, subtle love. The two of them held, keeping their movements slow, gradual, and co-ordinated, until Sandbar opted to break it. As he did, he smiled.
"Thanks," the pony murmured, blinking. Gallus noticed the tear roll down the spring green coat, and wiped the droplet away with a talon.
"Don't mention it," the blue boy replied.
"I'm sorry I...well, whatever that was. I feel really stupid."
"Why do you feel stupid?" the griffon asked. "It's not uncommon or anything. I probably should've warned you about it." It was his turn to frown. "I guess I should be sorry. I'm supposed to take care of you in this sort of situation."
"Don't be sorry," Sandbar rebuked. "I don't regret it. It's worth risking...whatever that was-"
"Sub drop."
"Sub drop? Okay, it's worth risking sub drop if you can make me feel like that." He yawned, then blinked as a thought occurred to him. "Where did you learn all this stuff, anyway?"
"Turns out there's a library in Griffonstone," Gallus answered, his grin only mildly underpinned by sheepishness. "I figured if I had to spend a holiday season there, I might as well learn something useful. It worked better than expected."
"Pfft," Gallus dismissed, waving a claw. "I read so I could have fun later on. The reading was necessary, was all." He locked eyes with his friend. "I had fun. Did you?"
"You know it," Sandbar answered, his grin softening into a smile. "Thanks."
"Yeah, you too." The griffon leaned down to nuzzle his equine friend again. A few moments of comfortable silence passed. "I don't usually do this, but since it's belated Hearth's Warming, and you're my favourite pony...do you wanna...smooch some more? Just until my knot deflates."
"I think I'd like that," Sandbar answered, leaning upwards to make the kiss possible, and then stopped. "And...Gallus?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy belated Hearth's Warming."
The feathery teenager smiled, brushing his beak against Sanbar's lips before he answered in kind, his tone soft and the words murmured low enough for just the stallion to hear. "Happy belated Hearth's Warming."
