The Fun Begins
You step into the marketplace for the second time this week. As usual, it’s busy, though arguably less so this time. Rush hour is clearly gone, and there are fewer vendors and fewer signs to brush past. This is all for the better, though, because you’re not lugging your saddlebags along. You’re not going to take home any groceries. All you have is your bit bag, which swings between your teeth as you trot down the square. It’s not quite as heavy as last time; you only brought 40 bits instead of having 60-ish left, as was the case last time. You couldn’t always go all-out on donations, after all.
But these bits weren’t digging into any necessities. You had been planning to use these particular bits to go see Die Herd 4 when it came out, which would be fairly soon. But given the choice between watching a bunch of ponies spout one-liners and shoot magic at each other, and potentially getting to finally sink yourself into an eager, willing Filly Scout...the latter is the obvious choice. When else was such an opportunity going to literally present itself to you as this one had? Die Herd 4 would be around later, but Ginger Snap probably wouldn’t. Maybe. You’d have to ask her.
Hell, you really have to ask her. She’s been at the top of your mind since yesterday. Sure, part of it was that parting view she’d shared with you of her glistening, eager slit, and an offer that she’d let you fill it. But filly-fucking aside...you’re kind of curious to find out some things about her. Where did she learn all of this? How did she come to like it? And most importantly...could you ever find her elsewhere to...uh...donate at any time?
You’re at the center of the market square by now, but even though you make sure to visually comb the branching side alleyways specifically, you see no sign of the little yellow filly. Hm. You’ve only seen her once so far, so assuming that she exclusively tucks herself into alleys is perhaps a bit forward...but she wasn’t exactly super specific about where you could find her. She just said to come back to the market.
You draw in a breath, getting ready to commit to something potentially awkward: calling out her name. It isn’t unusual to call for a lost friend or acquaintance in crowded public places, of course, but...you don’t want anyone seeing you call for a little filly before disappearing down into the underbelly of the town with her. It won’t look good. Granted, you...have less than pure intentions. But the same could be said for her.
“Mister!”
Luckily, fate intervenes, and you hear Ginger Snap calling out above the low, rumbling chatter of the public square. Your ears twitch and your eyes dart back and forth before you see her. She’s bouncing through the afternoon shopping crowd, slipping between window-shopping and chattering ponies alike, her sunset-toned mane flopping about. The way she skips around, occasionally reaching up to make sure her cap stays on, is nothing short of adorable. You can admit that much. When things come down to brass tacks, she’s still a happy, energetic, cute little Filly Scout. Well, sometimes, at any rate.
Ginger stops short when she’s a couple feet away from you and beams even wider, fixing her cap one last time before chirping out a more distinct greeting than just ‘Mister’.
“I’m happy to see you, Mister!” she says, stopping for a moment to catch her breath before continuing. “So, what brings you back here?”
Your heart melts a little upon hearing that she’s excited to see you. Of course, this much was clear from how she’d approached, and the sentiment is very much returned on your part...but just hearing her say it makes you have the same warm fuzzies you got when you first donated.
Her question comes off as a little strange, especially given she was the one who asked you to come back...but you figure you’ll humor her. You grab the bit bag out of your mouth with a hoof before speaking. “Well...I thought about what you said yesterday. I think I wanna round up my donation to the cause, make it an even hundred.”
“You do?” Ginger Snap’s eyes sparkle; whether she already knew your intentions or not, just hearing them spoken seemed to make her happy. She reaches for her chest and pats it before continuing. “That’s super nice, Mister, it really is.” She lowers her hoof again, and your eyes drift down, drawn by the motion. Nothing seems unusual, but then something clicks in your brain...something’s missing. But what…?
Ginger doesn’t give you much time to ponder. Instead, she turns to the side and nods. “Well, if you’ll follow me, Mister,” she says, gesturing to a nearby side street, “I’ll be happy to take you to my donation stand and we can settle stuff there. Sound good?”
“Sure.”
It’s only as Ginger begins happily skipping off through the crowd again that you notice what’s missing. Much like last time, she’s wearing the green Filly Scout cap, with that little red hanging tassel-thingy near the ear. She’s also wearing her forest-green sash around her midsection, which is much more neatly positioned than you last saw it, and even seems to have one colorful badge on it that you didn’t notice before; you’re not sure if she earned it in the one day you’d been away or if she just rotated which ones she wore. Or if that was even an option. You’re no Filly Scout, so you can’t really tell either way. But that isn’t the real standout. The little red ribbon she’d tied around her neck yesterday isn’t there today. At all. Sure, she’s got some adorable little fluffy fur sticking out from her chest, but...no ribbon. Huh. Wasn’t that something they all had to wear? That was another question to add to the list you’d been making since yesterday.
You follow the happily-bouncing filly anyway; ribbon or no ribbon, you still have business to take care of. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s so small or if she’s just really good at squeezing through tight spaces, but she seems to far outspeed you to the edge of the square, and to the side street she’d indicated. You’re still only halfway across, trying to wiggle through and apologize to the bulky figures of other stallions, mares, and everypony in between. Ginger does notice your slow progress and stops, eagerly waving to you as you slide through the crowd. It only takes about ten more seconds before you break free and stand next to her once more...but on reflection, it definitely felt like it took longer than that.
You follow her without incident down the alley, strolling past the odd backdoor of a commercial building here, and maybe a residential one or two there. In fact, though she began the journey down the side street with a happy skip, she’s now slowed to a rather normal walking speed. You have to walk extra slow just to make sure you don’t overtake her. But...now that the chatter of the market-goers has faded, the sound of just your hoofsteps and hers stands out. Desperate for mental stimulation, your eyes rove about...and that’s when you notice it.
Ginger Snap is walking, of course...but in a very measured way. Her steps are slow, deliberate, sending her rear out to one side, then the other. Her hips sway back and forth, and her tail even swings freely from side to side with these motions. You feel a twitch from down below as she seemingly exaggerates these motions even more, exposing the...reward she offered to you yesterday. She’s not visibly aroused, at least not enough that you can tell from where you are, but she still seems to be taking a kind of perverse glee in teasingly rocking her butt back and forth. Look at this, she seems to be saying. It’s all yours soon.
“Enjoying the view, Mister?~”
“Huh, wha?” You blink twice, barely managing to wrench your attention away from the little yellow snatch that its owner seemed to make so...appealing, the way it was waving to and fro.
Ginger Snap stops, turning her head to reveal a smirk painted on her face, and eyes half-shut with an aura of smugness. “Are ya’? It’s okay to say yes...that’s why you came back, isn’t it?”
“Oh, um...y-yeah.” You tug at an invisible collar as heat builds up behind your cheeks. You couldn’t really lie. Ginger’s snatch is...something else, in fact. More than just being small,and attached to a filly, it somehow managed to be...inviting. It’s a little weird to think that, but it seems to be the best way to describe it. The sun seems to bounce off it in just the right way to highlight every tiny curve, every detail of her lips, and to say ‘come get me, I can take it.’
Ginger Snap’s body seems to say the same as she gives her hips one last wiggle before resuming her previous pace. “Well then...we should keep going if you wanna get to enjoy the view up close then…”
You follow her, not even hiding that you’re staring at her butt as she strides along. But eventually, your curiosity outweighs your lust—or perhaps mingles with it in just the right way—and you finally pluck up the courage to ask her some questions. It’s obvious from how many turns you’ve taken that she’s much, much deeper into the network of alleys than she was last time, so you might as well distract yourself a little. If you don’t, it’s clear that it won’t be long before her petite pussy becomes too much to resist.
“So...where’s your...red ribbon thing?” you ask, deciding to lead with the least forward question. Ginger glances down as if she didn’t know she didn’t have it on, but then smiles.
“You’ll see, Mister,” she teases, turning and giving a brief wink before facing forward again. “It’s part of a surprise I’ve got for you.”
Oh...a surprise? You wonder what it can possibly be, especially since it involves her not wearing the ribbon...but none of your guesses really make any sense. So you instead move on to something else, hoping for a more satisfying answer. “And, um...how did you...why...uh, do you…”
“Let ponies fuck me?~”
If your cheeks had felt hot before, now they were almost certainly on fire. Holy shit, she’s a straight shooter, isn’t she? She isn’t wrong at all, but...wow. Hearing it come from such a high pitched voice, and one so sing-song, is just...well, wow. “Uh...y-yeah.”
“Easy!” Ginger Snap chirps, rounding another bend before stopping again. Regrettably, she turns to face you, removing the constant pleasant visual of her slit. She makes up for it with her answer, though. “It feels good for me, and it makes them feel good. If that makes them wanna donate to good causes, all the better! I learned that early on in the Scouts. I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t like being pinned down by a big ol’ stallion and being fucked so hard that I can’t walk afterwards.” She bites her lip and blushes a little; apparently even that was a little too much of a straight shot for her. “So, uh...yeah. Bet you like hearing that, though, don’tcha?”
“Y...yeah.” Fuck, she’s good at dirty talk. You didn’t even notice, but as she motions for you to sit down, you can feel your already-stiff cock standing at attention against your stomach. The tension is unbearable; now that she’d even said she wanted to get plowed into the metaphorical next week, it takes every ounce of restraint you have to resist doing just that. Her hips might be surprisingly full, her fillyhood so perky that it looks impossibly tight, and her vocabulary and libido both seemingly supercharged...but she’s still a filly. You feel much more comfortable with her leading the way and letting her do what she wants or telling you what to do. After all...you might be the generous one for donating to charity, in some respects, but she’s far more generous for offering what she is.
“Wait here, Mister,” Ginger says, glancing around real quick before grinning widely once more. “The surprise is riiiight here, actually. There is no booth this time. But I’ve gotta go check something real quick, ‘kay? I’ll call you in when it’s ready.”
“Um...sure.” Come to think of it, you were wondering why she’d made you sit here. But she disappears into what looks like a half-open nearby storage shed...thing...before you can ask anything more. So you just have to make do with your surroundings. Compared to Ginger Snap, they’re...pretty boring. Lots of metal doors, the sort that open up to reveal tons and tons of boxes cover just about every inch of this particular curve in the alley. It looks like nopony ever comes around anymore, though; most of the doors look rusted shut, and the one Ginger disappeared into seemed rusted half-open. But because the sun barely manages to provide more light than a gloomy, almost-rainy day back here, you can’t see far enough in to see Ginger or her ‘surprise’.
To your relief, you find yourself slowly getting soft again, even with the fresh memory of her wiggling butt and all that was attached to it at the front of your mind. As alluring as she was, you really didn’t like being kept at attention without any action. The thought briefly crossed your mind to perhaps do a little bit of poking and prodding to stay ready, but...whatever she had planned would no doubt get you going again.
Come to think of it...what is she doing? From where you’re sat, you can occasionally hear things as the seconds tick by. And not just things like the wind...but as you listen, something sounds...high pitched. Like a filly’s voice. A little bit whiny, like the filly was told she couldn’t have an extra cookie. And...it’s not Ginger herself. This voice is a little bit deeper, breathier, and...mumbly? You can’t really tell if it’s talking or just making sounds, but...there is an undeniable tinge of arousal to these sounds, like the ones Ginger made yesterday.
“Alright, Mister, c’mon in! I’m ready!~”
You don’t have much time to ruminate further, apparently. But maybe that’s for the best. Surprises can often be made duller when you think about them too much, hype yourself up, and then find they don’t live up to that hype. So you stand and trudge into the semi-darkness, ducking under the rusted door as you do. It’s even darker than you thought...but then you hear a click, and an array of fluorescent lights flickers and then buzzes to life above you. You have to shield your eyes with a hoof for a second, but when you lower it again, to see what the surprise is...it falls directly to the ground, accompanied by your jaw, and the bit bag you’ve lugged along thus far.
The interior of the room is...much cleaner than expected. It almost looks like a basement, but cleaner; the floor is surprisingly well-maintained concrete, and the wall is like that of a normal house, even with the odd landscape painting here and there. There’s a couple cushiony chairs too, and even a table with some scattered board games over its surface. It almost looks like a kind of forgotten, but still-used hideaway…come to think of it, it probably was. But that all has nothing to do with the surprise. It’s all stuff you took in from your peripheral vision in maybe a second at most. The surprise is...far more interesting. You can’t look away.
Against one of the walls is a couch big enough to seat three adult ponies. You can see Ginger Snap on the middle cushion, smirking as she observes your reaction to what’s in front of her.
Starting from the top down, you see a jagged orange mane, topped off by a Filly Scouts cap much like Ginger’s. Below this cap is a filly with cyan fur and half-open, wandering, deep orange eyes. Her muzzle is propped partially open by a wad of fabric, held in place by the same red ribbon that Ginger wears, tied off to a point behind her head. The cheeks beneath this red ribbon are almost as red as the ribbon itself. From here you can see her forehooves are tied tightly together with another red ribbon, and held awkwardly aloft against her chest.
Below her bound hooves, Ginger has her own forehooves snaking around the filly’s midsection, past a similar sash to Ginger’s but with only one or two visible badges on it. Ginger’s hooves finally come to a stop on the filly’s pussy. She’s slowly caressing the small, blue slit in a circular, counter-clockwise motion, stirring up moisture that’s visible even from here...there’s quite a lot of it. In fact, the filly’s thighs seem absolutely soaked in her juices. You can’t help but wonder if she’s been in this situation much longer than the time it took for you and Ginger to meet up and come back here...
Even as you ogle, she doesn’t seem to care that you are. In fact, her hips are twitching outwards, and her hind legs are spread wide open, allowing Ginger full access to gently tease across her lips, each touch eliciting a little whine, wiggle, or thrust from her body. The message is very clear: she’s enjoying things. In fact, she wants more. Badly.
“Uhhhhh…” You begin.
“I…uh...” You continue.
“...holy fuck,” You finish, rather insightfully.
“Language, Mister~” Ginger Snap teases, before giving an extra-deliberate flick to the other filly’s snatch. She shudders and moans, but otherwise makes no attempts to respond as she gazes at you with...hungry eyes, is the best way you can describe her expression.
“So...this is Peach Fuzz,” Ginger continues. Her smug little grin widens as Peach turns to look at her, and she returns the favor, giving a little oddly adorable snoot-boop before turning back to you. “I usually call her Peachie. But I bet you’re wondering why she’s here, yeah?”
“Uh...yeah.” You mumble, finally stepping a little bit closer. Your earlier suspicions were correct; now you’re really raring to go. Seeing Ginger in such a position, presenting another filly so openly, and from the looks of it, teasing her until she wanted the same thing that Ginger herself did...fuck, you couldn’t lie; it’s hot. You’re already rock hard and aching to get things started. All of your urge to ask questions is gone; you just want to get through hers already. That glistening, light-blue slit is almost as alluring as Ginger’s, and more to the point...its owner seems more than happy to receive you. You’re already twitching in anticipation. But it seems there’s more to come.
“Well...she just joined the Filly Scouts last week.” This only barely registers, but it still does; no wonder she had so few badges compared to Ginger. “But we’ve been besties for a while before that. So when I told her about my little promise to you, well...she wanted in too. So how could I say no?”
“Wait, so she…you both…”
“We want you to fuck us both, Mister.” Ginger Snap begins to blush again; a once rare sight, now becoming increasingly common. But you can’t blame her considering the inferno behind your own face. Peach nods rapidly in agreement, sending her frazzled mane bouncing up and down and her cap almost tumbling off her head, though Ginger makes sure it stays on.
As much as you’d like to just immediately get down to it...you do have one more concern that digs at your just-barely-intact sense of modesty and morals. “But why is she...tied up, and…”
“Gagged?” The yellow filly chuckles, switching from a counter-clockwise teasing motion to a clockwise one with her alternating hooves, which brings up a new round of muffled moans and whines from Peach. Your cock strains even more than you thought possible at the sound, and you find it increasingly hard to actually listen as Ginger continues. “Well...let’s just say I taught her most of what I know about sex. After a while, we found out that she likes being...helpless.” Ginger pauses to move one of her hooves up to Peach’s barely-visible teats, tracing ever so lightly around the perky nipple, and continues over the hushed sighs and frustrated wiggling that follows. “Isn’t that right, Peachie? You like being helpless to all of this good stuff, only being able to wiggle around and ask for more?”
“Mmmm...mmmhhmm…” Peach manages to mumble around the fabric crammed in her mouth; those are probably the only coherent syllables she’s even attempted to make so far. But as she finishes, she squeals and quickly dissolves into whimpers and breathy sighs when Ginger brings both hooves down, and literally spreads her lower lips wide open. Your heart almost gives out at the sudden appearance of the glistening, juice-saturated, pink inner walls of Peach’s little filly slit. You’ve never seen anything that looks so fuckable in your entire life...not even Ginger’s openly-presented hole, both from today and yesterday. Even though Peach’s snatch looks even smaller than Ginger Snap’s, you doubt that you’ll need extra lubrication to fuck her silly...she’s ready, and begging for it. You’re more than happy to provide.
“Well then…” Ginger drawls, licking her lips and cocking her head as she gives you a wink. “Let’s not keep her waiting any longer. Go on ahead, Mister; I’ll hold her nice and steady~”
You definitely don’t have to be told twice.
You step closer, unable to take your eyes off the little filly’s pussy. You can see her clit slowly winking, and through the cloth jammed in her mouth, you can hear her asking...no, begging for it. The tension that’s built up in your crotch is almost unbearable now. The concern that actually sticking your dick inside a little filly—even one who wants you to—might lead to repercussions is long gone now.
Peach Fuzz squirms a little more as you rear up, spreading your hind legs for leverage, before placing both your hooves against the wall, curving around the pair of fillies. This puts the tip of your shaft perfectly in line with her pre-parted pussy lips, which seem to sparkle with even more moisture as you hesitate. Ginger catches on to this brief moment, and gives you the last bit of encouragement you need:
“Fuck her hard, Mister,” she purrs, the words flowing from her lips like honey. “She loves it when things get rough.”
Rough, eh? You can definitely do that. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to fuck her senseless. You’d wanted to do the same for Ginger...but judging from her earlier comments, that would come in time. So with a bare minimum of preamble, you line yourself up, take a deep breath…and shove yourself in, all the way up to your medial ring.
Three things happen immediately.
First, you feel the impossible tightness that is Peach’s pussy. Even though you slid in with no trouble thanks to Ginger’s efforts in both lubrication and spreading, her inner walls are still gripping you like a vice. She seems to tremble around you, and every tremor feels amazing. It almost feels like you’ve stuck your cock into a pile of wet, trembling, and intensely hot pillows. You almost lose your footing and fall over just from feeling the heat coursing over your shaft, but just manage to stay upright, focusing on the jolts of pleasure shooting down the entire length of your pole.
Then you hear Peach cry out. She might seem to have a slightly lower voice than Ginger from what you’ve heard, but the squeal she lets out is almost beyond the range of what you can hear. It’s long too, slowly petering off until you pull back and thrust back in again, whereupon it climbs back into the stratosphere.
Finally, while you’re trying not to lose yourself completely in her trembling, clenching hole of ecstasy, you look down and see something. It’s very slight, but you can see a rounded imprint of your cock all the way up to where you’re buried in her. Experimentally, you pull back and push in again, earning another pleasured cry from Peach...but sure enough, the bulge moves. Holy shit. She’s so tight you can see yourself fucking her from the outside, too. That’s something you haven’t seen with mares before...ever.
It isn’t long before your experimental jabs accelerate. Your primal instincts begin kicking in. Your hips find a cadence, sliding back and forth at a decent pace. The room is soon filled with an aimless trail of sighs, whines, and moans as Peach reacts in full, now doing her best to wiggle even further onto your shaft as you grunt and pound harder. Every time you shove yourself just a little further in, things get just a little tighter. You never exactly thought things would be loose, but...you’re still surprised you’re even able to get any deeper at all into her snatch.
“Faster, Mister!” Ginger speaks up, gently brushing a stray bang out of Peach’s face even as she shudders and bounces noticeably back every time you push in. “She can take it. And ‘sides...I wanna hear her really squeal~”
You’re beyond responding with words now. But you manage to pick up the gist of what Ginger says and act on it. Gladly, you brace against the wall, make sure you have the correct angle...and then go to town. You thrust all the way in until Peach is wrapped around the very base of your cock, then you pull almost all the way out, and then repeat as fast as you can. Your breath is coming in short spurts as a strange mix of tension, liquid heat, and the utter compulsion to fuck her harder and faster begins taking root.
Your eyes happen to meet hers as you glance down—well, meet them as well as you can, at any rate. They’re rolling up and down in cadence with your thrusting. Her entire body is violently carried back and forth with every slap as you hilt against her crotch and your balls carry forward with their momentum, so eye contact is somewhat hard to maintain considering that.
But in one brief moment, you see her staring back at you. Her gaze trembles back and forth as she tries to moan something around the makeshift gag, and her hooves wiggle about in their bindings. She’s pushing back against you as far as you can tell, though at this point you’re pretty much just pushing and pulling her all on your own. Even the walls of her pussy seem to tug and follow your cock every time you slide back, and you fear for the briefest of moments you’ll pull the attached filly off the couch too. But true to her word, Ginger keeps a tight grip, and Peach remains securely trapped on the couch, unable to escape the relentless fucking she’s getting.
You never really thought you’d be fucking a filly before yesterday at all, let alone so forcefully. Even now it doesn’t seem real. But everything is so visceral—the squeals and moans Peach makes as you thrust in and out...the way her pussy seems to not just passively squeeze every inch of your shaft, but instead actively bears down on it, begging for more even when you’re giving all you’ve got...the building tides of ambrosia deep in your groin as you rail her harder and harder...this is no dream. You’ve had plenty of ‘those’ dreams where you’ve fucked old crushes or just some random dream pony.
“Mhhhng! MMMhnnhh!!! MMPHHH! MMMMMMMH!~”
But Peach is real. Her wiggling is real, her squirming and strained wails of pleasure are real, her pussy is both real and even tighter than anything you’ve ever fucked, her companion’s throat included. But the one thing you still can’t quite believe is real is the way she looks at you, even as you feel yourself begin to flare, and a familiar surge of heat flow over your body as you kick into mechanical overdrive and reach a pace that would make a fucking machine jealous. It’s just so...innocent, the way her eyes shimmer as you send her crashing up and down even faster, her forehooves pressing inwards against her chest as she begins approaching her own peak.
You briefly wonder if this is something that would see you sent to Tartarus...but then figure fuck it. This feels too good to be bad. Besides, you’re already about to cum. It’s too late to turn back now. You’re about to cum inside the tightest pussy you’d ever fucked. And it’s about to cum around you; you can distinctly feel (and see) her clit winking frantically. It’s time.
Ginger Snap seems to be cognizant that you’re both about to climax, because she chooses this exact moment to reach behind Peach’s head. You don’t see what she’s doing, though, because you can’t possibly hold back any longer. Your legs brace, your hips square up for one final pre-orgasmic thrust, and then…
Slap!
You’re cumming. You can feel hot pulses of cum shooting out as Peach’s inner walls seem to clamp down on you even more than they already were, milking you for every drop of seed you have. And yet against all odds, you keep thrusting even faster. The waves of pleasure shoot all the way from your cock to somewhere in your mind, and across your body from there. Overstimulation doesn’t seem to be an issue as wet slaps echo around the room as fast as they ever have been. The world dissolves into a shimmering mirage of guilty pleasure and sweet, sweet release as you cram your cock deep inside Peach over and over.
“HAAAH! G-GINGmmmhh...mhh--- AHHH! I’M C-CUhhhmmm...mmmmnnn…”
Peach Fuzz suddenly speaks up in vaguely coherent phrases, albeit wavering and distorted by a wave of full-body trembling. You look down, and through the haze of pure mid-climax bliss, see her head turned to the side as Ginger Snap aggressively pushes their muzzles together. Her gag is gone, but Ginger fills the role by doing her best to keep the now-orgasming filly locked in a passionate, no-holds-barred kiss. Even as you feel yourself slowing down somewhat, her clenching and thrusting against you only redoubles as they lean in, mash their tongues against each other and moan into each other’s mouths. They only pull back to breathe for a brief second once or twice, whereupon Peach tries to gasp and express her pleasure at the same time, before the persistent saliva trail that links their lips closes the gap and they’re back at it again.
The display is enough to earn a couple more thrusts as your libido responds to the sight of two fillies making out with a passion that suggests a long sexual past, but you’re still spent in the end. Peach seems happy regardless as her hind legs twitch and she eagerly continues the kiss, and her squeals and shouts of joy die down to quiet moans and long sighs. Her inner walls squeeze less and less, their breaks for air slowly become longer and longer, until eventually, everything’s just about stopped. The two Filly Scouts seem content to just keep kissing, but this time at a much slower pace, taking their sweet time, making eye contact and little smirks or sheepish grins before pressing their lips back together.
Amid all of this, you finally push back and extract yourself from Peach’s pussy. Your shaft flops free, semi-hard and softening by the second, glistening with a mixture of your semen and Peach’s discharge. You just barely manage to fall back into a sitting position, panting as you try to get your bearings.
Wow.
There’s not much more you can really articulate about that experience, even as your gaze falls on Peach’s pussy. Little rivers of white cum and clear juice coat her inner thighs and run down onto the couch, but something tells you nobody really cares about that couch anyway. You’re still not sure half of that was real, even though it very much was. She was just so...tight, and hot, and the way she just seemed to adore being rutted...you could really get used to that sort of thing. Maybe fucking Filly Scouts wasn’t so bad after all. Your conscience could shove it, at least for now. That was bucking awesome.
“Fuah...mmm...n-nice job, Mister!”
You glance up; it seems the two fillies have finished their little makeout session. Ginger Snap’s returned to her previous stance, leaning back against the couch. Peach Fuzz is still on Ginger’s lap, but this time is leaning rather heavily back against her fellow Filly Scout. Peach wiggles and sighs as a single tan hoof gently massages and slowly stretches her lips, but she makes no attempts to speak. It’s Ginger Snap who speaks on her behalf again.
“I can tell she really, really enjoyed it.” That cocky little grin is already back on her face. She seemingly isn’t even aware of what her hoof is doing, but the younger Scout definitely is; she just can’t seem to sit still or stay quiet under Ginger’s attention. You almost feel sorry for her...but she isn’t exactly complaining now that she has the opportunity to, either. Her little hip twitches and foreleg movements seem to indicate she has anything but complaints. “Didn’t you enjoy it, Peachie?~”
“Mmmaaah! Y-yeah…” Peach wriggles around some more, meeting your eyes for the first time since she and Ginger locked lips. “It...i-it was—”
“It was her first real dick, too!” the older Scout interrupts, giving Peach a little noogie with her free hoof.
“Gingiiiiiiie!” Peach’s pouty whine starts out strong, but slowly dissolves into a whimper as the target of her accosting just brings the formerly-noogeying hoof around to join the fun. All the while, you can’t help but feel an odd mixture of pride and shame for having been this filly’s ‘first time’...well, besides Ginger, or something presumably artificial. The guilt doesn’t last long, though, especially as she keeps staring you down while Ginger teases her. Her panting doesn’t stop, nor do her quiet little moans...heck, she probably doesn’t even consider the occasion a significant event. All she wants is more of it, if her body language is any indication.
“So, uh…” The last vestiges of a rational mind that you have reassert themselves, and you remember why you’re lucky enough to be here. You allow yourself to look back towards the center of the room, and the half-open bag of currency that lies there. “What should I…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that right now, Mister.” Ginger Snap smiles in true businesspony-like fashion, not dropping it even when Peach gasps as she gently tweaks one of her nipples. “We can deal with that later. As for now...I promised you something yesterday, didn’t I?”
“Uhhh...yeah.” You’re a little hesitant to mention exactly what she promised, but there’s no doubt that both of you know.
She has no such reservations though. With a gentle little headpat, the senior Filly Scout slides off the couch, leaving behind a very frustrated and unsatisfied Peach. But to her credit, Peach makes no other complaints as Ginger comes to a stop in front of you. She looks up at you, and her emerald eyes sparkle innocently as she swishes her tail back and forth.
“What exactly did I promise you again…?”
She...isn’t serious, is she? You knew she was devious, but she wants you to say it now. But it’s not like anyone is around to hear, so...surely it can’t hurt, right?
“You said I could…’show up again and help out some more tomorrow’?”
“Well, yes.” Ginger smirks, before turning to the side and beginning what is possibly the world’s slowest strut in existence. “But what did I mean by that? You’ve already basically done that, and you know it~”
Well...if she wanted to play hardball and hit a homerun, who were you to refuse? “Well, uh...you said I could, more or less, fuck you.”
“There’s no more or less about it, Mister.” By now, Ginger Snap’s turned back towards the couch, so you can’t see what you suspect is an even bigger smirk plastered onto her lips. Her tail shifts to the side to reveal her other pair of lips, which shine slightly under the overhead light, revealing a trail or two of…’juice’ running down her legs. “But yes. The key word there is me. Peachy isn’t me, is she?”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly.” The slow sauntering seems to be almost complete as Ginger nears the couch again. She leans forward onto it, before tossing her head to the side and eyeing you hungrily. “…’bout time we get to that, isn’t it, Mister?”
You nod, feeling a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. The little filly seemingly—no, she does know exactly what she’s doing as she arches her spine, pressing down into the cushions and leaving her butt stuck high in the air.
“Well then…” Ginger Snap winks, licking her lips as her gaze drifts down, centering itself between your legs. “What are you waiting for, an invitation? I’m ready~”
If her outright invitation isn’t indication of her readiness, her admittedly incredibly obvious body language is. Not only was the position of ‘face down, ass up’ quite possibly the clearest indication that whoever was bent over was ready for some action, but so was the...moistness, to put it politely. Ginger Snap has plenty of that smeared in all the right places, highlighting her petite little pussy in ways you weren’t sure were even possible before now.. It is, insofar as a body part can be, quite the sight to see. And it’s yours now. Finally. All those dreams you’d had last night were coming true. You were finally going to get to plow this little Filly Scout temptress into next week.
“Hey! Wh-what about me?”
You glance over, stopping mid-stride. Peach Fuzz flicks her gaze between the two of you, alternating between looking annoyed and desperate for attention. Ginger Snap giggles as she turns to address the younger Scout. You’re not sure if the little wiggle of her rump she does shortly after is intentional or not.
“But you just got rutted, remember?” Ginger’s eyes sparkled. “Was it so good that you forgot everything?~”
“Nooooo, it’s just…” Peach sighs, wiggling her hips as she tries to sit up more. “I still really wanna...kinda...do more…”
You can’t help but to feel a little sorry for Peach; she just experienced something she liked a lot and now she has to watch somepony else enjoy it while she’s helpless to do anything about it. Granted...maybe she was used to it. Ginger seemed like she knew exactly what she was doing earlier while fiddling with her sensitive spots, so no doubt they both knew the routine by now.
Ginger Snap seems to confirm this as she winks towards her companion. “Aw, c’mon,” she teases. “We’ll make it quick. Right, Mister?”
“Actually…” you interject, flicking your gaze between filly one and filly two. For possibly the first time in Ginger Snap’s company, you feel a smirk grace your lips as you seize upon a sudden flash of inspiration. “I might have an idea that can make everyone happy here.”
“Oh?” Ginger straightens back up a little. “Well, let’s hear it, Mister!”
You have to admit, it still takes a lot of effort to swallow all the mental obstacles you have to speaking openly, even with the confidence that your idea bestows in you. After all, you’re still getting used to the idea of such young fillies not only understanding sex, but craving it. Still, with some effort, you manage it, and tell them what your idea is. It’s a little bit hastily thrown together, as it’s just something from an oddly-recurrent dream you’ve been having ever since your early teen years. But to be honest, this is probably the one chance you’ll get to live out anything like it...fillies or no fillies. You didn’t have a better shot as far as you knew...so why not shoot now?
“Ooooooh, interesting~” Ginger Snap turns to Peach Fuzz, as do you. She still looks a little peeved following Ginger’s teasing and subsequent denial, but as she thinks about it, she seems to soften; her forehooves lose the tension they had stored up, and she stops wiggling against her binds long enough to weigh in.
“Well…” she hums, her eyes flicking between your legs for the briefest of instants. It’s clear what she really wants. But, as far as you can tell, the look that passes between the two Filly Scouts convinces her otherwise. “Okay. But can you, um…” You didn’t think it possible, but somehow, the little bound filly manages to blush even harder. “...leave the thingy around my hooves? I...kinda like it…”
For some reason, Ginger Snap turns to you after this, and blinks twice, but says nothing. You realize that Peach was actually asking you about the ribbon, and not the other filly, who seemed to wear the metaphorical pants in the relationship in more ways than one. It’s not entirely clear why she would do this...but you don’t care either way, so you just shrug. Hey, whatever makes her tick. If she wants to have her hooves tied together by one of their little ribbon thingies, then she can have it her way.
“Great!” Ginger beams as she stands up, unfortunately removing the pleasant view. But you know there’s going to be another one very soon as she gestures to the couch. “Now, make yourself at home, Mister...I have a feeling things are about to get twice as fun~”
You clamber on and sink into what are no doubt at least decade-old, but still surprisingly firm cushions, and Peach slides off, supported partially by the older scout. As you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling, one errant thought crosses into your mind, louder than the rest.
Meeting Ginger yesterday was a stroke of luck. Everyone has those. But being invited back and given the wonderful, wonderful gift of two Filly Scouts eager to ‘serve the community’ was just something else. You still aren’t sure any of this is real...but it’s hard to ignore how real the fillies’ close-by whispering sounds, and how your weight shifts slightly around as their little hooves make dents in the cushions.
But the hardest thing of all to ignore is what happens next.