> Opposites Attract
>  by Some Leech
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trotting down the central boulevard of Canterlot, keenly aware of all the townsponies giving her an an exceptionally wide berth, Tempest kept her eyes on the castle. It wasn’t the first time she’d been summoned to give counsel on matters, nor would it be the last, yet the reaction from the bustling city’s residents was and would likely always be the same. She’d nearly defeated the quartet of Princesses singlehoofedly, she’d tracked down the Elements of Harmony, and though she’d eventually made amends and helped defeat the Storm King, her former employer and would-be conqueror of Equestria, she was still viewed as a villain by many.

She glanced to the guards as she moved through the main gate of the keep, giving the most subtle of acknowledgements to them. The praetorians had become much more disciplined over the last year or so, ever since she’d suggested a number of improvements to their training, so she doubted the capital would suffer another disastrous incursion anytime soon - still, there was always room for improvement. Moving into the castle proper, through the courtyard and into the foyer, she slowed when she noticed something out of place.

Standing to one side of the great hall’s doors lingered a royal guard that stuck out like a sore hoof. Tall and with far too little meat on his bones, covered in aquamarine fur which violently clashed with his blonde mane and tail, the lanky pegasus reached back with a wing to scratch his tush. It would have been bad enough if the praetorian simply looked unimpressive, but his actions were so much worse than his aesthetic.

For starters, the pegasus’ posture was abysmal, slouched while leaning against a pillar - secondly and more gallingly, he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to his surroundings. His eyes were closed, he hummed some unknowable tune, and he bobbed his head to a beat only he could hear. She’d seen a number of sorry soldiers in her day, but this one - well, this one took the cake by a wide margin.

Moving past the guard, leering at him all the while, she snorted and knit her brow. If the sad sack of bones was still there once she’d finished her meeting with Celestia, she’d have more than a few words for the less than exemplary sentry. Trotting into the throne room, shaking the abysmal guard from her thoughts, she spotted the Princess on the throne and shook a lock of mane from her face.

Fortunately for her, the discussion with Celestia was a trivial matter which lasted under an hour - regrettably, as she saw herself out, she glanced over and saw the pegasus guard exactly where she’d left him. She’d hoped he would be gone or possibly tending to his duties as he ought to, but she’d been wrong - extremely wrong. Instead of merely humming to himself, the stallion was quietly singing and dancing in place - dancing! Though she held no official rank, merely being an advisor of sorts, there was only so much she could stand.

“You,” she grunted, shifting and storming over to him.

Snapping from his stupor, the pegasus looked in her direction, spotted her, and immediately stiffened. “M…m…me?”

“Yes, you,” she huffed, glowering at him.

She stopped just before him and peered deeply into his wide, lilac eyes. While she’d had every intention of berating him, chastising him for his utterly amateurish and frankly laughable state, she paused. Her eyes wandered over him, drinking in each little detail she could see, while he swallowed hard. She’d had a very poor opinion of him from afar, seeing him from several dozen paces away, yet her ire gradually grew tinged with fascination.

He was tall, easily a full head taller than herself, and his build, though not heavily muscled, wasn’t without a certain charm. Unlike the overwhelming majority of his armored colleagues, he almost looked effeminate in his burnished, ill-fitting plate. Bringing her attention back to his face, noticing the barest hint of stubble on his chiseled jawline, she suddenly found it difficult to speak.

“Y…you’re - um - you’re Tempest ~ aren’t you?” he stammered.

The moment he spoke her name, a shiver ran up her spine. His voice was like that of an angel, soft and lilting, but his eyes - ancestors help her, his eyes were what truly captivated her. Like twin ruby saucers, his big, beautiful eyes looked upon her with a mixture of veneration and concern. She opened her mouth to reply, to smugly confirm his assumption, yet no noise escaped her.

Her thoughts ran wild, her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t avert her gaze. He was handsome, almost painfully handsome, and his timid demeanor paired with his dulcet tone moved her in a way that no stallion ever had. Heedless the fabric over her groin growing damp, or the blood rushing to her face, she gulped and took a small step back.

He cocked his head to the side and stared down at her. “You can talk ~ can’t you?”

“I - uh - I’m…” she faltered, tripping over her words.

What the hay was going on? She was Tempest Shadow, she had decades of combat experience under her belt, she was a peerless combatant, and she’d faced a myriad of foes over the years ~ so why was she getting so worked up over some rangy, gorgeous excuse of a guard? Summoning all the willpower she could muster, she shook her head and dislodged the unwanted, wholly vexing thoughts from her mind.

“Yes, I am Tempest,” she finally announced, though in a far less intimidating manner than she would have liked. “And you are…?”

“Zephyr Breeze,” he responded, snapping the worst salute she’d ever seen.

She would have been happy to get his name, but he wasn’t finished with his introduction. Bringing his wings up to his head, he removed his helmet and sheepishly smiled upon her. Golden locks of mane cascaded around his face, flowing to one side of his long neck and over his upper back, bringing a quake to her knees. She’d been wrong, he wasn’t gorgeous, he was an angel from the heavens above.

Cradling the helm under one wing, he lifted and rubbed the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Sorry, I’m kinda new at this. Was there anything I could help you with, Miss?”

With her mouth going dry and her marehood growing moist, she could think of a number of things that he could help with, but she couldn’t simply start chatting with him - at least not right in the middle of the castle. Years upon years of training kicked into high gear, leading her to turn her head and evaluate her surroundings. There were six guards in or just outside the room, including himself, and he was obviously the weakest link - therefore, seeing as how she was clearly the largest threat in the vicinity, it would only be right that she be handled differently than most guests.

“I - Ahem,” she abruptly coughed into her hoof. “As you must know, I have a bit of a reputation for my past transgressions. Since you’re a obviously a rookie, it would behoove you to escort me off the premises and to my room at the Mareiotte hotel on Broadway.”

She couldn’t help it, she wanted - no, needed to learn more about him. Throughout her life, she’d been around more ponies than she could possibly count, both on and off the field of battle, yet this Zephyr was unique in a number of ways. If he actually was a guard, he was in dire need of some much-needed tutelage and, if her suspicions were correct, hooves-on instruction - as such, she’d be remiss for not giving him a personal assessment.

Zephyr stiffened, unsure of what to say or do. He’d never met Tempest before, but he’d recognized her the instant he saw her trotting over to him. Her armor, jet-black bodysuit, vermilion mohawk, and piercing, turquoise eyes were unmistakable. Lifting his head and looking for his supervisor, he anxiously fidgeted.

“Lemme just ask my boss,” he muttered. “I’m not sure if -”

“Would you ask your boss for permission to stop an intruder?” she interrupted, stepping forward and gently prodding his breastplate.

With a start, he lowered and shook his head. “I…no - no, I guess not.”

“That’s right,” she clucked. Turning to and marching toward the exit, she glanced back at him. “Now be a good little colt and do your job.”

Watching her trot through the foyer, he was stricken by a number of things about her. She clearly wasn’t afraid to say exactly what was on her mind, a far departure from nearly every other mare he’d ever crossed paths with, but that was far from a bad thing. As scary as she was, strutting around like the warrior goddess that she was, he’d be lying if he said had a certain appeal.

He’d never been the sort of stallion to go after strong, domineering mares, but he’d be darned if there was something about her that didn’t tickle his fancy. She was a walking paradox, her graceful gate and stunning good looks to her armor and her cavalier attitude, and he found her fascinating - menacing as all get-out, but fascinating all the same. Reluctantly abandoning his post, praying he wasn’t going to get in trouble, he fixed his mane, donned his helmet, and cantered up behind her.

“So…” he uneasily began, moving along beside her, “have you been behaving yourself?”

“I have been, for now,” she snickered, one corner of her lips turning up. “But what would you do if I wasn’t?”

The question took him completely off guard. Peering over at her face, seeing the predatory glint in her eyes, he nervously licked his lips. “I mean, I guess I’d have to stop y - Wha?!?”

Before he could finish speaking, she dropped to the ground, spun around, and sweeped his legs out from under him. The move was so fast and so jarring that he had no time to react, falling to the cobblestone beneath his hooves in the blink of an eye, yet she hadn’t been finished - not by a long shot. Rolling him onto his back, pinning his wings under him, she mounted his midsection and held his forelegs to either side of his chest.

“You were saying?” she mused, smirking down at him.

There’d only been a small hoofful of times he’d been left totally and completely speechless, but this was definitely the most startling of them all. Her weight bore down against him, the warmth of her nethers radiating through her jumpsuit against his abdomen, while she held him to the ground. The startling turn of events would have been terrifying to a fault, had they not been so inexorably arousing. He couldn’t explain it - heck, he could barely wrap his head around it, but being under her while she sinisterly grinned down at him may have been the hottest predicament he’d ever been in.

He would have remained where he was, too frightened to move, had he not felt his stallionhood slipping from its sheath. Alarm bells rang in his mind, telling him that if he didn’t hastily get her off of himself, she’d feel just how excited he was getting. Given what he’d heard about her, paired with how quickly she’d incapacitated him, he shuddered to think what she’d do if she felt his stallionhood twitching and swelling between her powerful thighs.

Fueled purely by adrenaline and dread, he pushed off with his wings and managed to dislodge her - if only just. Sweat beaded his brow, his chest heaved, and he teetered on the brink of a panic attack, yet he’d narrowly avoided a disastrous development and quite possibly meeting an untimely demise - unfortunately for him, and much to his horror, his self-described charge was well aware of what had happened. With her jaw nearly on the ground, Tempest gawked in open awe at the semi-rigid length dangling beneath him. Though he threw his wings down to cover his shame, it was far too late to save face.

“It’s a diversion tactic!” he blurted.

Tempest’s trance was only broken when her line of vision was broken by his feathered appendage. She’d seen a good number of stallionhoods in her day, but never, not once, had she laid eyes upon one so absurdly large. Though she’d only got a glimpse at his goods, no more than a second or two at most, she hadn’t the slightest shred of doubt that he was packing some serious heat.

Swinging her focus back up to his face, she closed her mouth and wiped a bead of drool from her chin. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a diversion,” he bleated, going so far as to lift a hind leg to further conceal his loins. “Makes it hard for your enemy to concentrate!”

She could smell the bullcrap from a mile away, but she wasn’t upset - in fact, he’d intentionally or unintentionally just given her the opportunity of a lifetime. “I was unaware that you were versed in such an advanced combat tactic,” she snickered, doing her darndest not to burst into laughter. “A shrewd move on your part, I must admit, although I believe your technique needs a bit of refinement…”

“I…what?” he croaked, taken aback by her assertion.

“Come,” she intoned, trotting ahead.

She may have seemed collected, but that was purely a skin deep; on the inside, the fires of her lust grew hotter and brighter with every step she took. Struggling to keep herself from breaking into a canter, she walked along at a brisk pace. The hotel she was staying in was only a short distance from the castle, just a few minutes’ trot, yet she found it difficult to compose herself by the time she reached her destination. 

Through the front doors of the establishment and into the lobby, she only slowed when she entered the lift and pressed the button to go up to her floor. All but plastering himself to the far wall of the elevator, creating as much room between himself and her as he could, Zephyr refused to look at her while they gradually ascended. If her hunch about him was right, that he’d gotten a bit worked up when she’d ambushed him, she couldn’t wait to see how he’d react to what he was in for.

She spent what little was left of their brief journey in silence, ruminating on exactly what she was going to do with him, until she’d seen them into her room, closed the door behind them, and turned the lock. It had been ridiculously easy to lure him to her chamber, but the trickiest and hopefully most entertaining part was yet to come. Trotting past him and turning to face him, she wryly smiled up at his face.

“Strip…”

Zephyr balked and blinked rapidly at the sudden, unforeseen demand. “E…excuse me?”

“Strip,” she coldly repeated. “Your armor would be useful if it had been fitted properly, but that isn’t the case. Until I can -”

“You first!” he squawked, cutting her off.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered in a flash. “You would ask me to -”

“T…the best leaders aren’t a…afraid to set an example,” he stammered, the armor quietly jingling about his trembling frame. “If y…you want me to take it off, you should t…take yours off first.”

As her blood ran hot, she studied him. “Very well…”

If he thought she’d shrink from the audacious demand, he was sorely mistaken. Balancing on three hooves, she began steadily removing the segmented portions of her armor. Piece by piece, the metal plates fell to the carpet around her hooves until only her peytral remained. She dipped her head and let the heavy collar slip from around her neck, landing with a dull thud beneath her, before she lifted her gaze and smiled up at him.

“Your turn…” she hummed.

Spontaneously glancing to her flank, he steeled his resolve. “T…the suit too.”

“How about this -” she snickered, lazily circling him, “if you want to see me with my suit off, you’ll have to do two things for me…”

He turned his head and watched her moving around him, feeling very much like a prime cut of steak in a chimera’s den. “A…and those are?”

“First, you’re going to strip for me,” she purred. “Second, if I find your performance adequate, you’ll peel my suit off me yourself.”

He’d genuinely been uncertain of if she fancied or loathed him, yet the mention of stripping and his impending performance left little room for doubt. Somehow, as unbelievable as it may have been, he’d caught the eye of the most battle-hardened mares on the planet. Looking her over, wondering what lay beneath the black, clinging fabric of her attire, he came to a conclusion in mere seconds. Buck it - if putting on an impromptu burlesque show meant he’d have a swing at the Tempest Shadow, he was going to do his best to leave a lasting impression.

“Just give me one second,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his snout.

He didn’t know the first thing about erotic dancing, and he sure as heck couldn’t have guessed he’d be putting on a lewd act for a former villain, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Taking several long, steady breaths, he fought to calm his frazzled nerves. She didn’t harry him nor chide him for the silent moment, allowing his jitters to subside. He was still extremely nervous, but that didn’t stop him from opening his eyes, putting on his most fetching smile, and removing his helmet with his wings.

Tossing his head from side to side, allowing his flowing locks to sail through the air, he hummed contentedly. “That’s much better…”

She’d assumed he would clumsily remove the oversized golden carapace he’d been wearing, yet he carefully and gracefully unclasped and plucked the armor from his body. The way he moved was mesmerizing to a fault, each little gesture with his wings, hips, or legs flowing like water, and she was honestly astonished to discover how elegant he was. Had she not known better, she would have assumed he was a dancer instead of a soldier!

Periodically spinning and setting pieces of plate on the dresser beside him, giving her a look at his tight, very squeezable tush, he faced her and gave a small bow once he was completely nude. “Your turn, Tempest.”

Hearing him say her name in such a sultry fashion practically did her in on the spot. The ache in her nethers was downright painful, she was pretty sure she was drooling from both ends, and her thoughts were lost in an amorous haze. Sidling over and dipping her head, she shamelessly peeked beneath him and spotted his semi-rigid stallionhood.

The sight of his endowment was the final nail in her coffin, sundering what little self-restraint she had left. There was only one reason in Equestria he’d be partially hard while alone with her in a hotel room, and that was after he’d brazenly told her to get naked for him, which demanded a change of plans. While she had planned on toying with him, playing a bit of cat and mouse, the direct route was suddenly much more appealing.

“Bed…” she breathed.

He straightened up and loomed over her, his smugness faltering. “But I thought -”

“Bed now,” she rumbled, craning her head to lock eyes with him. “Get comfortable or I’ll make you comfortable…”

“A…alright,” he sputtered, lifting and placing one forehoof on the foot of the bed.

Getting onto the mattress, he trotted to the headboard, eased himself down, and rolled onto his side - that was until an idea came to him. Considering she hadn’t tried to be the slightest bit subtle with peeking at his goods, maybe giving her a better look at what he had to offer would work in his favor. He pushed off with a wing and came to rest on his back, leaving his fore and hind legs pointed to the ceiling, while he gave her his best come hither look.

“Like this?” he cooed, going so far as to shoot her a wink.

She’d been blasted by magic, bludgeoned with cudgels, and had her face laid open by an ursa major, yet his presentation dealt a blow that threatened to undo her. Practically scrambling onto the bed, on the brink of falling into an outright rut-lust, she dashed up beside him. He’d made good on his part of the bargain, and now it was time for her to fulfill her end of things.

Wheeling around to face in the opposite direction of him, she stepped over his head and squatted down over his face. “There’s a zipper on my back between my shoulder blades.”

Peering down her chest, she marveled at his gradually swelling length. She’d known he was well-endowed the moment she’d first glimpsed his equipment, but seeing his package up close made her realize just how exquisitely hung he was. She felt like she was staring down a cannon - a long, twitching, vascular cannon, but that wasn’t nearly enough to stop her.

Only vaguely aware of the fabric parting over her back, feeling the metal tab of the zipper drawn towards her hindquarters, she lowered her face and brought her snout to the tip of his length. His cock-head was huge, almost the size of her hoof, and his shaft was practically as long as her foreleg. The rational part of her brain told her that doing anything with him would be disastrous, not for the least reasons being she hadn’t been laid in quite a long time, yet the spontaneous, lust-driven portions of her mind screamed for her to indulge her long-neglected wants.

Continuing her descent and bringing her snout to the base of his dick, she paused and looked back. “Just for the record, you are single ~ right?”

Peeking out from behind her flank, pulling the suit down the cheeks of her ass, he nodded. “Y…yeah…”

“Perfect,” she sighed, pressing her nose to the thick, fleshy folds of his sheath.

She’d gotten a whiff of his aroma while walking along with him, yet the hints of his scent didn’t do him justice. Strong but not overpowering, with a slightly floral note, the musk wafting from his loins was too fantastic to be real. As she drew a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs with his bouquet, her eyelids fluttered.

Her tongue ran over the base of his shaft, coating her palate in the salty, incredible flavors of his unwashed cock. In her experience, most stallions placed personal hygiene as a low priority, only bathing when they had to, but Zephyr was obviously a different breed. It was subtle, but she could detect what she assumed was a lavender body wash tickling her nostrils. Lost to her thoughts, bringing a hoof around to gingerly caress his plump, meet balls, she groaned and rocked back when something warm and wet graced her sex.

“S…sorry!” he cried.

“I…” she trailed off, stopping herself from telling him not to apologize. It would have been impossible for him to know it, but he’d just royally screwed himself over. Pushing herself up, she balanced on three legs while angling his dick toward her face. “Continue…”

Swinging his focus from her face to her backside, Zephyr gave a small nod. He’d presumed she’d been worked up, but he couldn’t have fathomed just how aroused she really was. Her suit had been positively drenched, her marehood winked and dribbled juices onto his neck, and he’d bet his bottom bit that her nipples were hard enough to cut glass. As stimulating as the revelation was, the circumstances were all the more electrifying because of one small fact - she’d gotten like this because of him.

While he really hadn’t meant to give her naughty bits a lick, momentarily succumbing to his urges, he was thrilled she wanted him to keep going - that being said, he was in uncharted waters. He’d read about sex, he’d looked at dirty magazines, and he’d even considered hiring an escort so he’d finally get laid, but the most lovin’ he’d ever gotten was from his wing or a forehoof. Brought back to the present as she rocked back and ground her snatch over the top of his muzzle, smearing his face with nectar, he set his brow and extended his tongue.

The view of her behind was sublime. Just as toned and athletic as Rainbow Dash, she was like a warrior Queen. Each wink of her marehood gave him a peek at her succulent, rosy interior, the color contrasting sharply against the dark, bare flesh of her groin, and it was all the inspiration he needed to dive in. Following his instincts and keeping his hooves crossed that he’d do a decent job, he wrapped his lips around her bulging clit and hummed.

“Oh fffffffffffffffudge,” she groaned, shivering from her hooves to the top of her head.

The fruity flavors dancing over his taste buds were exquisite, feeling her tremble against him was divine, and hearing her moan above him was like music to his ears, spurring him on like nothing ever had. Though he still had a hard time believing he could be so lucky, going from meeting a mare to having her virtually sitting on his face over the span of less than an hour, he wasn’t about to complain! While he eagerly lapped at her sex, drawing his tongue between her meaty lower lips and to her entrance, something hot and wet crept up his stallionhood.

He would have liked to savor whatever he was doing, to fixate on what would hopefully be the first blowjob he’d ever received, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t. There was no way for him to guess how many stallions she’d conquered in the past, likely leaving a wake of subjugated studs in her wake, so he had to focus and prove himself. While he may have frustrated her as a royal guard, he was sure as heck going to impress her in the sack.

Reaching the tip of his shaft, Tempest swung her jaw open, dipped her head, and filled her muzzle with his godly tool. Under ordinary circumstances, she’d just throat her partner, muffle them with her cunt, and edge them until they were begging into her muff for sweet, sweet release, but these were far from ordinary circumstances. She filled her lungs and worked her way downward, taking inch after girthy inch of shaft into her gullet, until she fully grasped the gravitas of the situation.

Having only made it roughly halfway down his length, she felt a twinge of discomfort in her jaw. The development was infuriating, especially because the sensation of his silken skin against her tongue and stuffing her gullet was wildly exhilarating, yet she didn’t submit. Clamping her eyes shut, she forced her head lower.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her neck bulge from the immense intrusion. His loving ministrations were an absolute godsend, titillating her and rocking her with waves of pleasure, yet they stymied her efforts and made it nearly impossible to concentrate. Gagging around him, her attempts to whimper quite literally choked by his stallionhood, she considered herself fortunate that he couldn’t hear or see her in such a moment of weakness.

Ignoring the ache in her jaw, dead set on hilting him in her muzzle, she came to a stop when her lips touched his medial ring. She was so close, so very close to bumping her nose to his nuts, that she wasn’t about to give up. With a final reckless drive forward, her lungs burning and heart racing, she victoriously accomplished her carnal task - sadly, her triumph was short-lived.

Either out of spite or in a fit of pique, he ravenously nursed on her clit while his wings sank under her suit and to her abdomen. An assault on one erogenous zone would have been devastating, but to have her sensitive teats and marehood played with so expertly, with such precision and vehemence, did her in. Much to her shame, overwhelmed and outclassed by what she could only describe as a sensual demigod, she was flung past the threshold and into a tumultuous maelstrom of ecstasy.

The sensation of her gullet spasming around his length should have let Zephyr know that something was amiss, yet his inexperience kept him hungrily suckling on the tender bud of flesh until a deluge of scalding nectar washed over him. He recoiled and sputtered, his mouth filled to the brim with the thick, tart juice flowing from her quivering depths. Moments from apologizing, completely drenched from the shoulders up, understanding dawned on him.

He hadn’t done anything wrong - quite the contrary, he’d done something right. The baptismal flood of her climax filled him with a power he didn’t know he had, unleashing a part of himself which, until that very moment, hadn’t seen the light of day. Withdrawing his wings and caressing her back, more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life, he shifted his head over to peer down at her.

“Look’s like somepony is enjoying herself,” he smugly chuckled.

Though she was still riding the tailwind of her orgasm, her rapture only barely beginning to subside, his comment stoked the flames of her passion into a white-hot inferno. How dare he be so full of himself?! Sure, he might have been drop-dead sexy - yeah he might have a dick that would put most yaks to shame, but how in the hay did he think he could talk to her like that. Rearing back and unsheathing his length from her maw, uncaring of the ropes of saliva and pre-cum dangling from her chin, she whipped around and glared at him.

“Don’t move,” she hissed, shakily getting her hooves under herself.

There wasn’t a stallion on the planet who could best her, and she was going to prove it. Turning to face him, she lifted one leg at a time and fully removed her suit. Her oral skills were impressive, honed by the myriad of sex-toys she’d used to suppress her gag reflex and train her gullet, but her marehood was in a league of its own. She was about to show this cocky, big-cocked would-be casanova why she was feared…

No sooner did the head of his cock kiss her entrance than she threw her weight down and impaled herself upon him. She’d meant to put him in his place, to fuck herself on him with reckless abandon, yet her hubris was her undoing. While she was successful in hilting every inch of his endowment, the length and girth of his stallionhood took her breath away.

“H…holy cow,” he gasped, peering down his chest at her.

Gathering herself, she shudderingly gyrated her hips. “Impressed?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking up to her face. “Do you - um - mind if I help?”

She was tempted to tell him no, if only to save face and subjugate him, but that would have been a fool’s errand. Screwing herself on the war club he called a dick would be no easy task, especially because her refractory period was already gone, so making the endeavor a group effort would be in her best interest. Leaning forward and placing her forehooves to either side of his head, bringing her nose to within an inch of his muzzle, she grinned.

“Just do me one favor -” she whispered, “be rough…”

For the umpteenth time over the last hour, her pride bit her squarely on the ass. Lifting and bracing his hind legs, he began plowing into her like a beast possessed. There was no buildup or gradual escalation of force - no, he simply started fucking her like it was the last day of their lives. Though she wanted to be angry with him, the unfathomable bliss he delivered was too much to bear.

“Buck yes,” she brayed, burying her face in his shoulder. “Just like that!”

To Tartarus with it - she may have been an imperious mare, but she knew when she was beaten. The raw ferocity of his thrusts, paired with the size of his stallionhood, was more than any mare could endure. She made no attempt to reciprocate his fiery affection, simply holding herself steady while he ruined her - not because pounding herself on him wouldn’t be fun, but because her strength had fled her.

His stallionhood impacted against her womb with every plunge, his balls slapped against her ass, and the sound of his deep, heavy breaths on her ear were electrifying. She’d heard that some mares were capable of having multiple orgasms, cumming multiple times in rapid succession in the hooves of an extraordinary lover, yet she’d never given such tales credence - that was until now. Feeling herself skyrocketing toward release, she mewled and stroked her neck on him.

To say Zephyr was elated would be an egregious understatement. He’d met one of the most renowned and infamous ponies in Equestria, been pulled from his duties for the day, and gotten the chance to get laid - all within the span of an hour! Bucking into her as hard and as fast as he could, having long since lost control of his body to his id, he grunted through gritted teeth. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last for very long, already feeling the telltale signs of an impending climax, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, and judging from her actions, she wanted his cum as badly as he wished to give it to her.

His muscles burned, his coat glistened in a cocktail of his sweat and her nectar, and his stallionhood throbbed in tune with his thundering heart - nevertheless, this was something he’d only ever dreamt of. Sex was so, so much better than he’d imagined, stimulating each of his senses and reducing him to little more than a crazed animal, yet he wanted more. As silly as the concept may have been, a deep, primal portion of him yearned to claim her and make her his mare.

The air grew thick with the smell of their heated bodies, a symphony of her guttural moans and his snorts echoed through the room, and her tight, soft depths fought his every backstroke. He’d realized he was close, yet he’d underestimated exactly how close he was. It wasn’t until the pitch of her howls raised an octave, her depths feeling as though they were growing more snug, that he realized he was starting to flare.

“I…I’m gonna…” he wheezed, unable to stop himself.

“Inside,” she blared, rearing back to lock eyes with him. “Cum inside me you lanky, beautiful bastard!”

She shot forward, locked lips with him, and drove her tongue into his mouth, sealing their fate with the deep, passionate kiss. Giving her one final, unstoppable plunge, he rammed the tip of his length into her foal-factory and came. The rapture of being able to cum inside somepony would have been fantastic in and of itself, yet her climax, feeling her marehood convulse around him while she brayed into his maw, made the moment absolutely perfect.

Their bodies grew still as they embraced and rode out their near-tandem orgasm. Thick, virile seed seeped from around his pulsing cock, leaking down his balls and to the sheets beneath them, while he filled her with his essence. Irrespective of their differences, the exchange gave them both something they desperately needed.

After what felt like a small eternity, Tempest pulled back and wearily peered into his eyes. “N…not bad…”

Zephyr nodded, relishing the taste of her saliva. “That’s - Cough - that’s a relief. For my first time doing it, I don’t think I did that bad either.”

“First…” she flatly repeated, her cum-addled brain trying and failing to process what she’d just heard. “You’re a virgin?”

“Was a virgin,” he corrected, lightly slapping her flank with his wing. “Can’t say I am anymore, thanks to you…”

There was only so much she could deal with at any given time, and she’d passed that line in the sand when she’d managed to fuck her face on his massive dick. Throwing in the metaphorical towel, she draped herself on him and closed her eyes. She could make sense of everything after she’d gotten some well-deserved rest, possibly while they showered together - for the time being, she simply wanted to enjoy the feeling of him growing soft inside her.

“You’re - uh - you’re not going to let me go back to work ~ are you?” he hesitantly asked.

She shook her head and stroked her cheek on his collar. “Not on your life…”
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zephyr pursed his tongue between his lips while he stared at his reflection. While he’d wanted to move out of his parents’ place, being close to work, not having to spend bits on rent, and getting home cooked meals made it very difficult for him to leave. Running a comb through his mane, he stepped back to get a better look at himself.

Outside of his duties at the Canterlot castle, he rarely wore much of anything while out and about; like most pegasi, he enjoyed the sensation of a nice breeze on his coat or flowing over his wings - that said, he was willing to make the odd exception. He timidly smiled at the mirror and adjusted the collar of his suit, one of the only pieces of clothing he owned, as he gave himself a final once-over. He wasn’t ordinarily one to gussy himself up, seeing as how he rarely had a reason to, but this was an extraordinary occasion.

It had been nearly two weeks since he’d had his wild fling with Tempest Shadow, the forbidding former villain who was now under Celestia’s employ, and the tryst had changed his life in more ways than one. Getting his v-card punched by an absolutely jaw-dropping mare would have been enough to have him sauntering around with a grin on his face for months on end, yet things hadn’t stopped there. Much to his amazement, after his passionate night with her, she’d paid him a visit at the castle, then another, and another…

Darned if he could explain it, but he’d apparently made quite an impression on the baleful unicorn - so much so that she wasn’t going to be satisfied with a one-night stand. Though she conducted herself properly in the castle, not doing anything to draw more attention to herself than she normally did, she made it painfully obvious that she wasn’t finished with him. Her heavily lidded eyes, whispered promises, and the way she’d sway her hips around him smacked of her lecherous intentions for him, yet therein lay a problem.

He felt certain that many stallions would be pleased as punch to have a friend with benefits, but he wasn’t most stallions. While there was nothing wrong with fooling around with somepony, he wanted more than just to get down and dirty with a drop-dead sexy mare. After her third attempt to coax him back to her hotel room, nearly falling for her trap, he’d acted on his impulses and made her a counter offer that he prayed she wouldn’t refuse.

It had taken him days to work up the courage to ask her, having warred with himself on if he should even make an attempt, but he’d ultimately asked her out on a date. Her reaction to his proposition had been one of the most stressful situations in his life; she’d balked and stared at him wide-eyed, going so far as to make him repeat his proposal twice, before she relented and agreed to meet him at the Poulains du Marché for dinner on Friday - that very day.

Taking her out for a nice meal and a conversation might not lead to much - heck, it may backfire in his face, yet it was the only thing he could think of! If she wanted him, she’d have to want all of him - as such, allowing them the opportunity to get to know one another seemed like the most reasonable course of action. With his collar straightened and mane brushed, looking as good as he could, he saw himself out of the restroom and nearly bumped into Fluttershy.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to…” the buttery mare trailed off as she noticed what he was wearing. “Are you going somewhere?”

He lifted a hoof to reply, moments from spilling the beans, but he stopped himself. “Something like that.”

Looking him over, she knit her brow. “It’s awfully late for a job interview…”

“I…” he uneasily began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

He really did love his little sister, so it didn’t feel right lying to her - nevertheless, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell his family that he was going on a date with the Tempest Shadow. Not only would he more than likely get grilled for his choice of mares, but he’d be fawned over incessantly for the foreseeable future - in short, it was a situation he’d rather avoid. Shying away and closer to the living room, he glanced to the foyer.

“I’ll tell you about it later ~ is that ok?” he countered.

She hesitated for a moment, clearly keen on learning what he was up to, but relented and gave him a small smile. “That’s fine, Zeph,” she whispered, trotting over and giving him a hug. “Just have fun ~ alright?”

Returning her embrace for a fleeting moment, he turned and proceeded to the front door. “I’ll try, Flutters. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” she murmured, waving a wing at him. “I look forward to hearing all about - um - well, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” he stated, trotting out and into the open air.

What he hadn’t said was that he’d tell her about his endeavor if it went well, but that was a concern he’d deal with later - for the time being, he had more pressing concerns. The restaurant was nearly a half-hour’s flight from the house, the sun was starting to set, and he wanted to be just early enough to ensure he got a table. As he cantered to and off the edge of the cloudbank upon which his family home rested, his eyes shot to the capital glimmering in the distance - little did he know, he wasn’t the only pony on pins and needles.

Pacing on the sidewalk in front of Poulains du Marché, the boujee eatery Zephyr had told her to meet him at, Tempest glanced over to a nearby sundial. She’d known she was going to be early, but that was hardly her fault - after all, it wasn’t like she had much experience with dating. Having a wild fling with a stallion that caught her eye was one thing, but going out for a fancy dinner put her at a distinct disadvantage.

She turned her head and looked to the window of the eatery, inspecting herself for the umpteenth time over the last thirty minutes. Adorned in a teal cocktail dress that complemented her eyes, as well as some lipstick that was just a shade brighter than her mane, she scrunched her snout. If her attire and choice of makeup didn’t suit Zephyr’s fancy, she was going to have some very strong words for the couture who’d suggested them.

Stars above, though she thought she looked alright, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more anxious - for Pete’s sake, she wasn’t this nervous before she launched the all-out assault on Canterlot when she’d been a commander for the Storm King! It had taken the better part of an hour to get herself ready, showering and going so far as to dab a bit of perfume on herself, and there was nothing more that she could do other than steel herself and try to play it cool. Ripped from her thoughts by a gust of wind, she turned, glanced to her side, and nearly gasped.

“I’m…I’m not late, am I?” Zephyr asked, bashfully smirking over at her.

Her brain registered he’d spoken, but darned if she could tell what he’d said. Clad in an honest to goodness suit, he looked more dashing than ever - in fact, he may have been the mostly sharply dressed stallion she’d ever met in person! Looking him over, from neatly-trimmed hooves to his luscious locks, she found herself staring into his big, beautiful eyes.

“Huh?” she grunted, only then realizing that she’d been asked a question.

Without knowing it, Zephyr wound up in the same predicament Tempest had been moments prior. In a word, she looked absolutely stunning. Her dress and her lipstick elevated her femininity to a divine level, robbing him of the ability to form words. She was naturally attractive, despite the intimidating combination of her reputation and her powerful physique, yet now she wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Grand Galloping Gala!

Shaking his head, seeing that she was staring dead at him, he collected his thoughts. “What was that?”

“You said something?” she pressed, blushing ever so slightly.

“I - oh!” he croaked, looking away as blood rushed to his cheeks. “I asked if I was late.”

Slowly turning her head from side to side, keeping her eyes on his beautiful countenance, she smirked. “You’re actually a bit early.”

“T…that’s good,” he stammered, peeking back at the entrance of the restaurant.

Trotting around her to face the door, he stooped down and locked forelegs with her. It may have been a bit old-timey, but he wanted to show her a good time and impress her. While he’d clearly made quite an impression with his stallionhood, he really, really wanted to prove that he was more than just a colt-toy for her. He motioned forward with a wing and gave her his most enchanting smile as he dipped his head.

“Shall we?” he hummed.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. He’d only just arrived, been with her for less than a minute, yet her heart was already pounding. There was clearly something wrong with him - not because he’d said or done anything to raise red flags, but because she simply felt weak around him! Of all the creatures and ponies she’d faced in the past, he was the only one who somehow robbed her of her martial prowess, her cavalier attitude, and even the ability to think clearly.

She trotted along beside him into the restaurant, stopped as Zephyr was greeted by the host, and was promptly shown into the dining area. She rarely ate out much, preferring to subside off simple, nutritious meals she made herself, which did little to help the circumstances. Posh ponies sat around her, chatting quietly while they ate their meals or sipped what she presumed was fine wine, elevating her anxiety by leaps and bounds.

“Here you are,” the host, a sprightly earth pony noted. “Ze waitress should be viz you shortly.”

“After you,” he remarked, pulling out the chair for her. Only once she’d seated herself did he stroll around to his own chair. “You ever been here before?”

“Can’t say I have been,” she answered, drinking in the place before turning her attention back to him. “And you?”

“Nope,” he laughed. “I gotta say, this place is really fancy.”

“And tactically unsound,” she muttered to herself. “The entrance is a massive choke point, the windows are too large, and these tables…” she added, rapping a hoof to the wooden piece of furniture, “I doubt they could withstand a bolt of magic.”

“I - um - yeah,” he mumbled, unsure of how to react to her strategic analysis of their surroundings. Tapping his forehooves on the table, he cleared his throat. “So how have things been going at the castle?”

With a weary sigh, she rubbed her temple. “Adequately - they’ve been going adequately. I took the liberty of making a few suggestions to the guards’ commanding officers about patrol routes, but I’m waiting to hear if they’ll be adopted.”

He reached across the table and rested a wing on her shoulder as the corners of his lips turned up. “I’m sure they will - after all, who better to give them advice on something like that?”

“Thanks,” she breathed. “And what about yourself ~ have you been a good little soldier?”

“Heh -” he chuckled, “I always try my best, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. Honestly, just between the two of us, I’ve been thinking about going back to school for cosmetology.”

Leaning back, she caressed his wing with her forehoof. “I could see that. Considering how well-kept you are, I feel like you’d be amazing at styling manes and tails.”

“Oh you’re just saying that,” he giggled, dismissively batting a hoof at her.

“No, seriously, you seem to have a talent for it -” she insisted, “more than some ponies I know…” Finishing a statement by brushing her mohawk, she laughed.

He quickly followed suit, trying and failing not to snicker at the lighthearted self-deprecation. “For what it’s worth, I like your mane; it’s distinct and suits you - besides, it’s not like -”

“Bonne soirée,” a waitress interrupted, coming to a halt beside their table. “May I take your order this evening?”

Having all but forgotten about the fact that they were going to eat, Zephyr peered over at the server. “I’ll have whatever you’d recommend,” he declared, placing his trust in the employee’s hooves.

Nodding and scribbling down something on a pad of paper, the waitress nodded and turned her attention over to Tempest. “And you, Madam?”

“Ditto,” she quickly replied, feeling foolish for not looking at the menu. “And maybe a fancy drink?”

“Uh-huh…” the waitress huffed, wheeling about and trotting away. “I’ll have some water and a pegu club out to you as quickly as I can.”

Waiting until the server had departed, Zephyr wrinkled his nose. “What’s a pegu club?”

Tempest shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine - anyways, you were saying?”

He motioned to her tall, imposing blade of hair running from her crown to the nape of her neck. “It’s not like you couldn’t try something different. If you wanted, maybe I could style it for you sometime.”

As she tilted her head and pressed her mohawk to the side of her head, she smirked. “Like this?”

“I was thinking you could grow it out a bit,” he replied, studying her and shrewdly rubbing his chin. “A round braid would keep your warrior goddess appeal - a…at least I think it would.”

She asked about braids, he explained several types - he inquired about her routine, she answered him. The discourse wandered from topic to topic long after her cocktail and their food arrived, drifting from subject to subject as only the most organic conversations do, while they lost themselves to the exchange. By the time they’d finished chatting, finally plucking their forks from the table to eat, their meals were already cooled.

“You know,” Zephyr spoke through a mouthful of pasta, “this isn’t that bad.”

Swallowing a mouthful and washing it down with a sip of her cocktail, Tempest offered her glass. “I don’t know what they put in this, but it is really good! Want to try it?”

He eyed the glass for a moment and grinned. “You’re just trying to get me tipsy ~ aren’t you?”

“Says the stallion who brought me to the snazzy restaurant and had me get all dolled up,” she cheerfully countered.

They laughed while they finished their meal, not wanting the fine cuisine to get colder than it already was, before Zephyr waved down a waiter and asked for the check. He couldn’t have been happier with how well the evening had gone. Tempest had let her metaphorical hair down, they’d spend well over an hour simply talking, and the food had been better than he’d expected - a bit pricey, but exquisite all the same. With the bill in hoof, he unseated himself and moved to her side.

He offered her his hoof and helped her down, even though she was probably the last pony in Equestria to need his assistance. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, slipping from her chair.

While she retained her smile, her contentment faltered. She’d gone on the date bracing for the worst, anticipating a quiet, clumsy exchange over some lavish vittles prepared by some conceited cook, though she’d gotten anything but. For the first time in what felt like forever, she’d truly enjoyed herself and been able to relax - sure, the drink may have played a small factor, yet it was the good company that had been the key to it all.

She stayed at his side as he paid and while they strolled out into the cool night air, yet her nerves slowly got the better of her. Since her outlook for the afternoon had been less than stellar, she discovered herself at a crossroads. One of the only reasons she’d gone out with him was to get him back in the sack, but now she just wanted to be with him.

Stopping outside on the sidewalk, tilting her head up at him. “So…thanks for that.”

“My pleasure,” he whispered, giving a small bow.

The pair stood in silence as they gazed upon one another. Neither wished the evening to end, yet neither knew exactly how to proceed. They were both in new territory, so neither said a word - that was until fate intervened. Stricken by a compulsion, Zephyr shot forward and pecked her cheek. Even if things were going to draw to a close for the night, wrapping things up with a small kiss felt more than fitting.

“Do you…” they started in tandem, each stopping the moment the other spoke.

“You first,” Tempest urged, her face a brilliant crimson.

Just as flustered as she was, Zephyr licked his lips. “W…want to come back to my place?”

He said the first thing that came to mind, desiring nothing more than to prolong her inevitable departure, but he almost immediately regretted his question. Given that he was still staying with his folks in Cloudsdale, bringing her back to his place would be an impossible task. She couldn’t fly, her magical abilities were relegated to bombastic explosives, and he had no way to carry her to his family’s home. With his blood running cold, she giggled and shook her head.

“Didn’t think that one out too well ~ did you?” she tittered. “Tell you what - as much as I’d like to see your house, how you walk me back to my place. I won’t jump your bones this time, no surprise inspections,” she playfully purred, shooting him a wink, “just the two of us keeping this fun time going ~ how’s that sound?”

Hanging his head, he peeked up at her with a silly little grin. “Didn’t think that one out too well ~ did I?”

“Nope,” she snickered, “but I’ll give you points for effort.”

With the hustle and bustle of the city around them, passing ponies out and about while enjoying their Friday evening, the two traveled in relative silence. Though they traveled in relative silence, enjoying one another’s company, their thoughts were abuzz. For all intents and purposes, there’d been nothing spectacular about the date - still, it had done wonders for them both.

The stroll lasted nearly half an hour, yet the time flew by in what felt like the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, they’d wandered into the hotel, up the lift, and at the door of Tempest’s room. As they lingered just outside the suite, their eyes met. A juncture was upon them, yet neither knew how things were going to play out.

“So, yeah, I guess this is my stop,” Tempest whispered.

The only reason she’d agreed to go out with him was to get him back into her sack, yearning for another amorous bout with him before she left town, but her motivation had shifted throughout the afternoon. As pleasantly unexpected as it was, she was growing quite fond of him. He was a bit awkward in both the literal and metaphorical sense, but he was genuinely sweet and seemed to actually care about her - both attributes being a far departure from what she was used to dealing with with stallions.

With his smile wavering, Zephyr looked to her door. “Yeah, I guess so…”

Bringing her out had been a gamble and he’d been keenly aware that she may have only gone with him in an attempt to lure him back to her place for sex, yet things had developed in a very unforeseen way. Beneath her cold, formidable exterior was a sweet and funny mare that utterly captivated him. Seizing the moment, he leaned in and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

She locked eyes with him and inched closer. “It’s only fair if I get one too…”

Taking advantage of the opportunity, she kissed him on the lips. Though she lingered for less than a second, he reciprocated her affectionate gesture with interest. As he pushed back against her, going so far as to fold a wing behind the back of her head to ensure she wouldn’t escape, her passion ignited. Closing her eyes and throwing her inhibition to the wind, she sank her tongue into his muzzle and softly groaned.

Like a dam having burst, their overwhelming tide of their fondness for one another bloomed. Her forehoof crept up his leg and to his shoulder, his wing slipped down her back, and their tongues entwined while their hearts beat wildly. Losing balance as she reached for her pocket, toppling against the wall, she pulled back and snorted.

“Keys…” she huffed, practically flinging herself upon him.

He did as he was told, the pinions of one wing fumbling to fumble for her dress. As willing as he had been to part ways then and there, he was absolutely certain that there was no stopping what was going to happen. Retrieving her keys and blindly fiddling to get them in the lock, he only managed to get the door open after several steamy, excruciatingly long seconds.

They practically tumbled into the room, pawing at one another while trying to stay on their hooves. Buttons were undone, zippers pulled, and clothing discarded in the heated exchange, until they shuffled and stumbled over to the bed. Disheveled, panting, and partially undressed, they pulled away from each other and breathed heavily.

Not a single word was spoken as they hurriedly stripped. While it was painfully easy for Zephyr to remove his suit, the same couldn’t be said for Tempest. Clumsily stepping out of her dress, taking care not to damage the garment, she glowered down at the discarded article. He would’ve had no way of realizing it, but she’d worn something special for the occasion - something he only not had the chance to see.

There was no right way to enact her little surprise, but she settled on the most alluring, sinful way imaginable. Crawling onto the foot of the bed and rolling onto her back, she splayed her hind legs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn any sort of underwear, let alone something so provocative, yet she’d spared no expense should things take an amorous turn.

“Well,” she cooed, reaching down to fondle her bosoms, “what do you think?”

With his eyes glued to her groin, Zephyr gulped. A crotchless, lacy pair of panties clung to her nethers, prominently displaying her plump, markedly damp marehood. The contrast of the cerulean undergarment against her hairless marehood, dark coat, and pink, winking clit was a sight to behold, rivaling or eclipsing even the most risque photos he’d seen in Playcolt magazines. While there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with telling her what he thought, he was inspired to let his tongue answer her in a different way.

He turned to face her, lowered his head, and ran his cheek down her thigh. Her scent from his night with her had haunted him, lingering in his sinuses for days, and the balmy aroma wafting from her loins was just as incredible as he remembered. The irony didn’t escape him - they may have skipped a dessert at the restaurant, but she’d presented him with a succulent last course to cap off their meal.

Kissing the meaty mound just above her pussy, he dipped lower and dragged his tongue up her lower lips. The flavors that exploded on his taste buds were electrifying, bathing his palate in the strong, fruity flavor of her essence and setting his heart alight. As she softly groaned above him, his eyes peered up her chest, past the breasts at her abdomen, and to her face.

“I - Mmmm - figured you’d like it,” she mused, resting her fetlocks on his shoulders.

His lips wrapped around her clit, suckling upon the sensitive bud of flesh and drawing a louder, guttural moan from her. He couldn’t speak for every stallion in the world, but there was something undeniably magical about eating a mare out while watching their reaction. Blood surged to the stallionhood dangling from his loins, causing his length to swell and grow at a record pace.

Gazing down on him, she gnawed her lower lip. His technique was impeccable, less rushed and more sensual than when they’d had their initial fling, and she had to fight to keep herself from flexing her hind legs to draw him in. Bolts of pleasure coursed through her, her breath hitched in her throat, and her nostrils flared while he alternated between focusing on her clit and slipping his tongue into her depths.

A spark leapt from her horn as he hummed into her. It was hard to believe that she was the only mare he’d ever done anything with, given his oral skills, but she had no reason to suspect he hadn’t been honest with her. Knowing that she’d been his first was a bit of a mixed bag; on one hoof, she took no small amount of pride from popping his cherry - on the other, a part of her regretted having been so forceful on their first, passionate encounter.

She delicately caressed her nipples, adding yet another layer of bliss to the encounter. Though she couldn’t see it from where she lay, she had no doubt that he’d grown rock-hard throughout the endeavor. The mere thought of his stallionhood left her torn, but she restrained herself. It wasn’t a matter of if things would progress but when.

It was only after she felt herself growing close, her thighs trembling and marehood winking uncontrollably, did decide to act. While she wasn’t opposed to cumming from oral alone, that hardly felt fair. Swinging one foreleg back and pushing herself up, she patted the top of his head. If she was going to cum, there was one way she could do it that felt right.

“H…hang on,” she sputtered, taken aback that he doggedly tried to continue feasting on her.

Pulling back with juices dripping from his chin, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she grunted, attempting to shift her weight to the side - attempting in that his wings and one foreleg kept her from rolling over. “What are you -”

“If we’re going to do it, I want to see your face,” he interrupted.

She squinted down at him, his statement hitting her like a ton of bricks. “Why?”

Shrugging, he tentatively lifted a foreleg and placed it beside her hip. “Because you’re beautiful.”

“Heh -” she mirthlessly laughed, “you already got me in bed, you don’t have to -”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, standing tall and resting his other forehoof on the mattress. “You’re one of - oh who am I kidding, you’re the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen.”

“I…” she fell silent, his words evoking a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within her.

As much as she wanted to trust him, his assertion seemed dubious at best. She wasn’t as curvaceous as many mares, she was more muscular than a great many stallions, and her aesthetic wasn’t what anypony would define as traditionally attractive, but there was one part of her that wouldn’t - couldn’t ever go away. Lifting a front leg, she ran her forehoof over her right eye.

“Even with this…?” she whispered, fearful for what he may say.

She’d been a broken pony since her youth, ever since her fateful encounter with the ursa major she’d had when she was a filly. Her horn had been shattered, robbing her of the ability to ever use magic properly, and the wounds she’d received had been more than just skin deep. If she hadn’t been maimed, hadn’t become a useless unicorn, maybe things would have been different for her - alas, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, the potential of a normal life weighed heavily upon her.

“Even this,” he faintly breathed, tracing a feather along the discolored band of skin. “I don’t care what anypony says or thinks about this,” he continued, smiling sweetly down upon her, “but I consider it, just like the rest of you, exotic.”

Feeling as though her mouth was full of sand, losing herself in his eyes, she gulped. “R…really?”

He stood on his hind legs and stepped forward, gliding his stallionhood over her groin, as he brought his muzzle within a hair’s breadth of her snout. “Really…”

His breath washed over her face, but it was his declaration that made her hair stand on end. Most ponies tried to ignore her scar, in spite of how it wasn’t uncommon for her to catch them looking at it, but not him. Instead of revulsion, pity, or fear, he gazed upon her with nothing but admiration and care - she could see it in his eyes. Unable to move, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had, he closed his eyes, pressed his hips to hers, and kissed her.

She reached out and pulled him close, wrapping one foreleg around his neck while her other hoof moved around his side and to his back. Taking a small step back, he brought the tip of his stallionhood down her crotch and to her entrance. There were a great many things she wished for in life: power, bits, vindication for her transgressions, yet it wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much she yearned for companionship - companionship that only he could give.

The second she felt the broad head of his cock press against her marehood, she kicked her hind legs out and hooked her fetlocks over his waist. There was no way in Tartarus either of them were going to leave until they were both satisfied, and she was going to make sure of it. Her fetlocks snapped around him like a vice, preventing any escape, while she flexed her legs and drew him in.

His stallionhood gradually sank into her depths, stretching her confines while sending bolts of pleasure coursing through her. Unlike the first time they’d done it, when she’d recklessly impaled herself upon her, the slow intrusion allowed her to relish the intense, phenomenal experience. Whimpering into his muzzle as she was steadily filled, she caressed his back and did what she could to stay relaxed.

He stopped once the battering ram-like tip of his length ground against her womb, though he wasn’t fully hilted. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, not wanting to jinx herself, but she wondered if she’d ever get used to having something so tremendous inside herself. She broke their kiss as he fell still, looked up at him, and nodded.

“Ready?” he murmured.

Once she nodded, he draped himself over her and began to move. Like molten velvet, her interior embraced him. Tightening upon his backstrokes, while relaxing on his plunges, her marehood was as well-trained as the rest of her. He struggled to hold himself back, railing against his urge to go wild, as he rested his head over her shoulder.

She was the only mare he’d ever been with, but he couldn’t imagine anypony being better than her. Her smell, her cavalier attitude, her taste, the way her hooves glided over him, how gosh darn sexy she was - she was a feast for the senses, and he was going to do everything he could to make her his. Moving slightly faster, he brought the tips of his wings between them and to her belly.

Having been well on her way to a climax, the additional stimulation to her teats flung her to and over the brink. Her marehood spasmed around his pistoning length, gushing nectar to the sheets and on his balls, as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The climax was just what she’d been yearning for, but she wasn’t about to simply lay there and bask in the ecstasy he afforded. She slipped her fetlocks lower, lifted her hips, and fitfully bucked up to meet his thrusts.

Something had changed when he’d cum in her, igniting a thirst she didn’t know she had, and she knew she wasn’t going to be content until she experienced it again. Their initial tryst had seen her at a disadvantage, wholly blindsided by his endowment and his preternatural skill in bed, but now she was ready for him. Weathering the onslaught of bliss, she fought to make the experience just as pleasurable for him as it was for her.

Her first climax was followed shortly by a second, then a third and a fourth, until she was a quivering, gasping heap beneath him. No matter how hard she tried, it was a herculean task to stand up to a stallion of his carnal prowess. His plunges were delivered with immaculate precision, stimulating her in ways that should have been impossible, and they only grew more intense as time grew on. Eventually but begrudgingly submitting, relegating herself to mewling like some common whore, she clung to him for dear life.

As much as he respected her for who and what she was, seeing her reduced to such a pitiful state drove Zephyr into a frenzy. She could defeat Princesses, track ponies across continents, and had likely slain foes he’d never even heard of, but it was he who had bested her. Inching closer and closer to his limit, he surrendered himself to his primal longing to claim her. The veins along his stallionhood pulsed angrily as the head of his cock began to flare, making it harder to keep railing her, yet he persisted for as long as he could.

She was a fertile field, and he was going to sow his seed within her. He grunted and snorted, a sheen of sweat glimmered on his body, and his balls pulled taut to his groin. Try as he might to delay the inevitable, it was like trying to stop the tide or the break of dawn. Waiting until the very last moment, he sheathed the entirety of his stallionhood within her, threw his head back, and gave a triumphant roar.

His bestial bellow of conquest, paired with the sensation of his scalding essence flooding into her, was more than she or any mare could endure. Her vision tunneled, her mouth hung open in a noiseless scream, and she almost blacked out from the blinding, white-hot rapture that consumed her. This wasn’t just a fling, this was more than sex - this was as close to a divine experience as any living pony could get.

He collapsed on her, fitfully coughing and gasping for breath, while she stared up at the ceiling. She’d wanted to be with him, to taste what he had to offer again, but that desire was gone now. Though she wasn’t exactly sure how she would pull it off, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to stay with him - to make him a part of her life.

“P…pretty good?” he weakly laughed, falteringly turning his head to look at her with one eye.

She did likewise, languidly shifting to peek over at him. “I…I…”

She wanted to say she loved him, to confess that she wished to be with him forever, yet she was too savvy for that. While it was true that she liked him, and that he was a sex god made manifest, to pledge herself to him after such a passionate exchange would be lunacy. She was cum-drunk, high on life, and not in her right mind to speak of anything too serious, but she wasn’t completely helpless.

“Y…you wanna go on another date?” she wheezed, giving a halfhearted grin.

He smirked and pushed himself up to get a better look at her. “We might want to shower first. Going out like this would - Oooph!” he grunted when she lightly jabbed him in the ribs.

“Later,” she clarified, her strength and wits returning. “A date later - like maybe tomorrow.”

Beaming down at her, he held her close and rolled her onto her side with him. “Sounds like a plan, marefriend.”

As innocent as the word was, the mere mention of it made her giggle like a schoolfilly. She was an absolute mess, the bed needed changing, and she had what felt like a pint of foal-batter within her, but she was happy - no, she was elated. There was no way for her to know what the future would hold for them, or what she was going to do when she eventually left Canterlot to go back home, but she was certain of one thing - she just got a coltfriend for herself…
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tying his mane up and behind his head, Zephyr anxiously peered at his reflection. “A…are you sure we can’t just -”

“No,” Tempest huffed, grabbing his chin and turning him to face her. “We are going to go meet your parents and we are going to have a nice, relaxing lunch with them.”

Releasing him, she turned her attention back to the mirror. It had been two months - two long, incredible months since she’d bitten the proverbial bullet and started dating Zephyr. They’d been on multiple dates, saw one another with increasing frequency, and it was becoming commonplace for them to share a room at night, but there was one thing they hadn’t done. Throughout all their time together, they’d yet to make their relationship public.

There were a number of reasons why they’d kept their budding romance secretive, but the biggest was their mutual concern of how they’d be viewed. Due to her actions, Tempest had accrued no small amount of infamy for herself, becoming a mare to be viewed with fear and respect in equal measure, while Zephyr had effectively drifted through life from one job to the next without any appreciable measure of success. They both knew that it was a relatively silly concern, especially because there had been odder pairings throughout the history of Equestria, although they’d decided to tackle it head on.

It would only be a matter of time until somepony saw them when they were out and about before the rumor mill started to turn. Ponies talked, they always had and they likely always would, and the last thing either of them wanted was to be cornered and asked if they were having an affair with one another - as such, they’d decided to head off any speculation at the pass. After much  discussion and quite a bit of convincing, Tempest had persuaded Zephyr that they’d meet his family for lunch and break the news.

Brushing off her bodysuit and readjusting a pauldron, she stepped back and looked over at him. “How do I look?”

She looked no different than she usually did, her mohawk standing proud and neatly trimmed atop her head, yet getting his opinion on her appearance was comforting. In a funny sort of way, though she hadn’t admitted it, his compliments or simply the way his eyes wandered over her made her feel special. Holding her head high, she slowly wheeled around to give him a proper view of herself.

“Do you - um - have to wear that?” he bashfully inquired, almost instantly causing her to grimace. “N…not that there’s anything wrong with it! It’s just that - well, maybe something a little less formal would be fitting.”

Giving an annoyed snort, she turned her nose up. “Think of it like this - if I showed up in anything but my uniform, suspicions would instantly be raised.

He lifted a hoof to protest, but quickly caught himself. “Yeah - yeah, I guess that’s a good point…”

She was as pragmatic as ever - points which had garnered a growing amount of respect from him. Unlike most mares who tended to beat around the bush with a great many things, her approach to situations and her life tended to be direct. If there was a problem, solve it - when something broke, fix it; such was her modus operandi. Trying not to fixate on her immaculately sculpted hindquarters, he forced his eyes to her face and smirked.

“I’d ask the same for myself, but…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Adorned in his typical fare, which was to say nothing whatsoever, he spun around with flourish. His hair was done up in a bun, he’d just showered, and there was the slightest bit of stubble on his jawline. He could have cleaned himself up a touch more, potentially shaving his face or styling his mane, but his parents and sister were used to seeing him in a leisurely light.

As his behind came around to face her, he yelped and recoiled when she playfully smacked his rump. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” she chuckled, winking over at him, “I couldn't help myself.”

For a brief moment, he considered retaliating, possibly trotting past her to give her tush a squeeze, although that would end in disaster. As they’d grown closer, he’d learned that even the slightest bit of provocation could result in things taking an amorous turn - for goodness’ sake, there’d been at least one occasion when a simple look had led to them making wild, passionate love to each other!

He sidled past her and to the exit of her suite, staving off the temptation to do anything even remotely inflammatory, and peeked back at her. “You ready?”

“Zeph,” she sighed, her smile faltering, “I didn’t need anypony to ask me if I was ready when I ransacked Canterlot. I think I can handle meeting your folks - besides, I already know your sister.”

Opening the door, he stepped back and bowed. “Fair point. After you, ma’am.”

Her point had been valid, but it offered him little comfort. Thus far, in all the time he’d known her, she’d displayed little, if any social skills. She was terse and to the point with everypony she came across, regardless of the circumstances, which may prove troublesome in the very near future.

He honestly had no idea how his parents would react to the news that he was seeing somepony, let alone Tempest Shadow, so the inevitable introduction had him on edge. He doubted she’d do anything overtly off-putting, although her menacing aura and intimidating presence may be enough to cause problems in and of themselves. There was no simple way to put it - she scared most ponies she dealt with.

Closing the door after she trotted out and into the hallway, he followed along behind her to the lift. Considering she couldn’t fly, he’d decided to arrange the fated first meeting between her and his folks at a little cafe in Canterlot that was just down the road from her hotel. He knew he shouldn’t be as worried as he was, he realized he was making a mountain of what would at worst be a molehill - still, he couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.

Down the elevator, through the lobby, and onto the sidewalk they trotted side by side. He tried to think of something to say, some way to talk about while they walked to their destination, but he couldn’t think of anything to kill the time. As he lifted his head and spotted the eatery in the distance, his mouth went dry.

The restaurant they were headed to was nothing particularly special, a simple little place that mostly sold soups, salads, and sandwiches, but one of the reasons they’d selected it was because it had nice outdoor seating. A number of tables sat in front of the cafe, a hoofful of ponies came and went with their to-go orders, and the weather couldn’t be better - nevertheless, his heart sank. Idling outside, seated around a table, were four familiar figures - not three…

“Uh,” he grunted, coming to an abrupt stop. “Maybe we should do this later…”

Following his gaze, Tempest cocked a brow. “Why? Aren’t those your parents over there?”

“Y…yeah,” he stammered, “but I wasn’t expecting them to bring a guest.”

She squinted at the small group, recognizing a familiar prismatic mane. “Is that Rainbow Dash?”

He gulped and gave a shuddering nod as his stomach knotted in on itself. “P…pretty sure, yeah.”

Tempest had initially been concerned, unsure of what had him out of sorts, but her worry was immediately eclipsed by cold, hard determination. He rarely, if ever spoke about Rainbow Dash, avoiding conversations regarding her at every turn, which had prompted her to do a bit of digging on the subject. A part of her felt bad for snooping behind his back, not wanting to upset him, although her investigation had ultimately yielded some very interesting fruit.

Apparently he’d had a crush on Dash since - well, since forever. He’d tried for years to court her, throughout his schooling and well into adulthood, and each of his attempts had resulted in rejection. While she shouldn’t have been perturbed that she’d been the only mare he’d had his eyes on, the revelation of his past romantic pursuits evoked something within her that was dangerous and vexing - her competitive side.

She reached over and grabbed his foreleg, preventing him from escaping, while a twisted grin split her muzzle. “You’re not worried are you?”

Tensing and shaking his head, he blushed. “No, of course I’m not worried! It’s just that - wha?!”

Quite literally dragging him along, ignoring the sound of his hooves skittering on the sidewalk, she continued onward. “I’m sure it’ll be just fine. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to Dash, so it’ll be nice to catch up with her and show off my big, perfect coltfriend.”

She was completely aware of how stressed he’d been about her meeting his parents, having weathered multiple attempts of his to weasel out of the inevitable encounter, but she’d moved well past the point of being sympathetic. Now that her erstwhile rival was there, it would take an act of divine intervention to keep her from breaking bread and having a nice, pleasant chat with his family and their guest. The metal of her armored shoes clacked beneath her, arcane arcs of energy crackled around her horn, and her eyes never wavered from the Wonderbolt, while the hackles on her back slowly raised.

“D…don’t do anything crazy, please,” he pleaded, tugging at the leg she held.

“Relax,” she whispered, “everything’s going to be fine - just fine.”

Seeing Fluttershy, Dash, and who she could only assume were Mr. and Mrs. Shy look in her direction, she released his foreleg and waved. Now that they’d been spotted, he’d have to go and speak with them. It may have been a touch underhoofed on her part, essentially forcing him not to chicken out, but it couldn’t be helped. Like pulling off a band-aid, there was no point in painfully drawing things out.

“Fluttershy, Dash,” she impassively began, slowing as she approached the table. Shifting her attention to the older couple, she smiled. “And you must be my coltfriend’s parents…”

Zephyr stopped dead in his tracks with his jaw hanging open in disbelief. He’d intended on gently breaking the news after sitting down, greeting everypony, and maybe getting something to drink - unfortunately for him, his marefriend had gone straight for the throat. Standing in mute awe, seeing the stunned looks on his family’s faces, he urge to run away with his tail tucked.

“I…I can explain!” he loudly stammered, finally able to find his voice.

Nonchalantly trotting forward and seating herself at the table, Tempest shrugged and smirked back at him. “What’s there to explain, dearest?”

He glanced at each of the ponies in turn, taking in their reactions. Fluttershy didn’t seem all that shocked, coyly smiling and blushing ever so slightly, while his mother and father looked on in stunned silence. He’d expected his parents to be surprised if and when the news broke that their son was seeing somepony, but they weren’t nearly as awestruck as Rainbow Dash.

Sitting with her mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers, the Wonderbolt looked between him and Tempest in abject disbelief. “I…wha…how did -”

“How did I end up getting such a perfect coltfriend for myself?” Tempest interrupted, smugly grinning at the pegasus. “It was easy - from the second I laid eyes on him, seeing how handsome he was standing guard in the castle, I knew I’d found somepony special.”

“Zephyr,” Dash croaked, recoiling slightly. “We are talking about the same Zephyr Breeze ~ right?”

“The one and only,” Tempest countered. “Frankly, I was amazed to discover he was single - doubly so, after finding out how polite, funny, and charming he is!”

Dash’s expression went from one of dismay to contempt, as she leered over at the unicorn. “You have to be joking. He’s arrogant, lazy, and -”

“Ah ah ah -” Tempest tutted, closing her eyes and tranquilly waving a hoof. “He’s confident, hard working, and unbelievably handsome - sure he has some room for self-improvement, but the same could be said for anypony.”

Glaring over at Dash, Fluttershy scrunched her snout. “That’s true, Dash, nopony’s perfect.”

Reaching across the table, Tempest extended a hoof to the pair of older pegasi. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard all about you from your son.”

Taking the proffered hoof and giving it a shake, Swirly uneasily laughed. “I hope he didn’t say anything too bad about us!”

“On the contrary,” Tempest hummed, withdrawing her leg and bringing it over to Posey, “he’s had nothing but kind words to say about either of you.”

Zephyr had spoken of Swirly and Posey, his mother and father respectively, on several occasions, but that hadn’t stopped her from doing a bit of independent research on her own. His dad worked at the rainbow factory and was only a few years from retirement, while his mom had been a homemaker for most of her life. By all accounts, his folks were honest, hard-working ponies who’d raised two wondrous kids.

Setting her sights back on Dash, she locked eyes with Zephyr’s would-be paramour. “How’ve you been doing, Dash?”

Dash held her gaze, staring across the table at her. “Great - I’ve been just great. Been keeping busy with the Wonderbolts and teaching at the School of Friendship - you know, that is when I’m not saving Equestria.”

“Sounds like somepony’s been staying busy,” Tempest snickered. Looking over to Fluttershy, she dipped her head. “And what about you, Fluttershy? I trust things at your animal sanctuary are well?”

Brushing a bang from her face, Fluttershy nodded. “Quite well, thank you for asking, although Angel is jealous of some new bunnies I’ve been taking care of.”

“Really?” Tempest hummed.

“Yes,” the soft-spoken pegasus admitted. “The new family has been taking a lot of my attention and I don’t think he likes it.”

It took everything Tempest had not to laugh, finding the irony positively delicious. She may have been wrong - heck, she probably was wrong, but she liked to think that Dash was secretly envious that she was seeing Zephyr. It was a long shot, but she prayed the cocky flier would realize she’d missed out on the mother of all lovers and come to regret turning him down time and time again.

Turning slightly, she looked over at Zephyr and patted the seat next to herself. “Care to join us?”

Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts as best he could, Zephyr trotted over and cautiously eased himself down next to Tempest. This was bad - very, very bad. He’d anticipated things being slightly uncomfortable, but the one-two punch of Dash being there and Tempest’s glaring lack of tact had him feeling like he may have a stroke. As soon as his tush came to rest on the chair, he jumped when his lover patted his thigh.

“But seriously though,” Tempest continued, looking between Fluttershy, Posey, and Swirly, “he’s an absolutely incredible stallion and he’s made me as happy as a mare could possibly be.”

“So - um - how did you two meet?” Fluttershy quietly inquired.

“Heh - that’s actually a funny story,” Zephyr croaked.

He didn’t think that Tempest would be candid enough to divulge all the scandalous details of how he’d first crossed paths with her, but he wasn’t about to leave anything up to chance. After taking a breath to sooth his tattered nerves, he regaled his family and Dash with the tale of how he’d encountered Tempest. Each word was chosen carefully, taking care to omit any mention of the lustful side of their relationship, until he’d gotten them all up to speed. Though the ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than twenty minutes or so, only pausing when the waiter came out to take their orders, he felt physically and emotionally exhausted by the end of it.

By some cosmic mercy, their meals arrived moments after he’d finished speaking. Both his parents gave their approval of his relationship, giving their blessing and smiling over at him and his marefriend, and Fluttershy did the same - albeit in a more subtle, hushed fashion. The only two ponies who didn’t speak a word, exchanging silent glances at one another, were Dash and Tempest.

He’d done what he could to avoid discussing his pursuit of Dash to Tempest, not for the least of which reasons being she didn’t need to know about his past interest in the athletic pegasus, yet his decision to stay tight-lipped on the subject may have incited an issue. Though he didn’t fully understand it, the tension between the mares was palpable. Swallowing down a mouthful of his salad, he attempted to steer the conversation into more amiable waters - that was before his mother seized the reins.

It should have been expected, but his mom and dad began asking Tempest about herself - a subject that she was startlingly happy to speak about. The formidable warrior glibly discussed her childhood, the loss of her horn, and even touched on how she’d come into the Storm King’s employ. He’d been worried about how she’d react to questions about her past, but his fears, much to his immeasurable relief, had proven unwarranted.

By the time everypony had finished their meals and sated their curiosity, everypony was in good spirits - well, almost everypony. Posey and Swirly trotted around, gave their son and Tempest a hug, gave their best wishes, and departed back home. Slightly slower to depart, Fluttershy gave a heartfelt congratulations to the couple, sternly told Tempest to look after her brother, and lazily took to the skies in the direction of Ponyville. The only pony to remain seated was Rainbow Dash, looking like she’d just sucked a lemon.

After waving goodbye to Fluttershy, Tempest turned to face the cerulean pegasus. “Not going to join your friend on her way home?”

“I’ll catch up to her soon enough,” Dash snorted as she got to her hooves. Trotting around the table and up to the mismatched paramours, she snickered and shook her head. “Alright, so how much did he pay you to set this up?”

Tempest balked, the question taking her completely off guard. “Paid?”

“Yeah, paid,” the Wonderbolt repeated. “Look, we both know that there’s no way this is legit, which means it’s either a joke or some sort of silly, hairbrained scheme to pull one over on Posey and Swirly.”

“Dash, come on,” Zephyr sighed. “You know I’d never -”

He fell silent as a furious crackling cut through the air. He turned his head in the direction of the odd noise, though he dearly wished he hadn’t. With opalescent lightning wreathing her horn, Tempest lowered her head and sneered over at the mare before her. He’d seen many different sides of her, from cool and reserved to rare moments of pure, vulnerable joy, yet this was something new, and it utterly terrified him.

“I’m going to pretend you weren’t foolish enough to actually mean that,” Tempest seethed.

“T…Tempest, h…honey,” he stammered, stroking her foreleg.

If looks could kill, Dash would have been dead several times over, but she was far from finished. “I’m going to say this once and only once: Zephyr is my coltfriend, I cherish him with all my heart - in fact…”

She put her decades of training and the body she’d honed into a living weapon to use, launching herself at Zephyr with a speed he’d never be able to match. Cradling his neck with one foreleg, while she threw the other out to catch herself, she threw him off balance, tipped him back, and locked lips with him. If putting bits where her mouth was was what it took to convince Dash that this wasn’t some sick game - by Celestia, she’d do it with gusto.

The survivalistic portions of Zephyr’s brain flew into a panic, realizing he’d been somehow upended, but the sensation of pillowy lips and a tongue driving into his muzzle brought with them a sense of calm. He acted on instinct, slipping his wings around Tempest’s shoulders as he reciprocated the deep, passionate kiss. Eventually pulling away, hoping to avoid making a scene, he reared back and gazed into her eyes.

“Did you mean that?” he breathed.

Tilting her head, she stepped back and pulled him back onto his hooves. “Mean what?”

He went to reply, but a gust of air and a bolt of blue caused him to shield his eyes. Without saying a thing, Dash rocketed away. “W…well, I guess that little smooch convinced her.”

“Hmmph,” Tempest grunted, moving around to his side. “Personally, I don’t care if it did or didn’t, but I’m not going to stand here and let her play you - us off as a joke.”

Leaning over and taking him by the forehoof, once she’d tossed enough bits onto the table to cover their bill, she pulled him away. She prided herself in her ability to remain composed under even the most dire circumstances, but she’d be darned if the prismatic mare’s comment hadn’t gotten under her skin. Leading him to and into a backstreet, away from prying eyes, she pushed him against a wall, reared onto her hind legs, and began making out with him.

Her show of affection and the thrill of proving Dash wrong had been electrifying. For all intents and purposes, she’d defeated a rival and boldly claimed Zephyr, her prize, for any and all to see. She was the victor, the true mare worthy of his affection, and that triumph was as arousing as it was intoxicating. Moaning into his muzzle, she wrapped her forelegs around his long, slender neck.

Zephyr had learned quite some time ago that Tempest was rather unique compared to other mares. Her cold demeanor, fearsome aesthetic, and ruthless efficiency were the only elements most ponies got to see. Hidden from all, save for himself, beat the heart of an indomitable queen, a mare who’s passion burned hotter than the sun, and she’d claimed him as her mate.

Had he known their lunch would end in a fiery exchange that would send her into a libidinous frenzy, he would have rushed back to their hotel to give them a bit of privacy - woefully, her amorous ambush caught him unawares. It would have been impossible to push her away, even if he’d been strong or skilled enough to do so, so he did the only sensible thing any stallion in his position could do - he reciprocated her affection.

The tips of his wings glided down her back and sides, with one giving her armored tush a small squeeze. There was only one way he’d ever bested her in any capacity, although he’d never done it in such a risky setting. Waiting until she quietly groaned into his muzzle, feeling her shiver, he brought his lips to her ear.

“Right here?” he faintly asked.

She nodded without the slightest bit of hesitation. “Unless you’re scared somepony will see us.”

Unable to suppress a chuckle, he kissed his way down her neck. “If anypony does see us, I hope it’s Dash…”

He’d simply wanted to make a joke and ease her mind, but his comment did anything but calm her. Lurching forward as she hopped back, only barely managing to keep himself from falling to the ground, he watched her grab what looked like an empty apple crate from beside a dumpster. Doing anything even remotely exhibitionistic had never been on his radar, yet he found himself entertaining the idea all of a sudden.

“Stand on here and buck my face,” she instructed, seating herself on the cobblestone while sliding the sturdy wooden box behind herself. “And be rough.”

Her order left no room for doubt. Excluding their initial tryst, preferring tender lovemaking more often than not, she was only this insistent when she was extremely turned on. Eager to oblige, feeling his stallionhood swaying and hardening under him, he flexed his groin and caused his cock to slap against his underbelly. He considered himself a tender, affectionate lover, but she’d carefully and quite persistently cultivated his domineering side.

Trotting over her, using his height to his full advantage, he placed his front hooves onto the upturned crate. “You want it rough ~ huh?”

Giving the tip of his length a peck, she lifted a forehoof to fondle his balls. “If you want me to stay quiet so we don’t get caught, yeah, so you - Glk?!?”

Driving his hips forward, he filled her muzzle with his cock. He adored taking his time with her as much as she did, allowing their lips and hooves to wander, but sometimes that just wouldn’t cut it - this was one of those times. They were both worked up in one way or another, they’d successfully announced their relationship to his family, and now it was time to blow off a little steam. Unsheathing a portion of his shaft and allowing her to get a lungful of air, he steadied himself and started thrusting.

Since the alleyway was a dead-end, he kept a wary eye on the street some dozen paces away. The chances of them getting caught were slim, though it wouldn’t be impossible for somepony to trot along and stumble on them - that or to have a keen-eyed pegasus spot them from above. He trembled as she rammed her face forward, working his medial ring into her muzzle, and set his jaw.

The sensation of her gullet, lips, and tongue were phenomenal. He couldn’t imagine any other mare not only accommodating but welcoming being treated in such a savage way, but he didn’t have to look to know that she was rubbing her marehood through her suit. Feeling her chin bump against his balls, he gave a pleased grunt and continued giving her what she’d asked for.

Blindly pawing at her crotch, Tempest found the zipper of her suit and pulled the little metal tab. The opening of the garment was supposed to make things convenient for when nature called, but she’d found a new use for it after she’d started seeing Zephyr. As she caressed her winking clit, dampening her frog with her juices, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

It had taken quite a bit of work to draw out the harsher side of Zeph, although it had been worth the effort. The enormity of his endowment would have been too much for almost anypony, but having him vehemently using his mare-breaker was the stuff of wet dreams for her. The taste of pre-cum and sweat danced over her taste buds, her lungs spasmed in her chest, and she was quickly making a small pool of nectar beneath herself, but this was what she needed.

Though she couldn’t breath, completely cut off from air, his overpowering musk filled her nostrils. He smelled good, he looked incredible, he was as sweet as could be, and now he could fuck like the sexual demigod that he was - in short, he was perfection made manifest. Rainbow Dash had no way of knowing what she’d missed out on, and she would never get to experience the unimaginable ecstasy that Zephyr could deliver - not if she had anything to say about it. 

Flying back on one of his backstrokes, leaving strings of saliva and pre-cum hanging from her chin, she drew her tongue up the side of his shaft. “How are you this perfect?”

“Dunno,” he placidly responded, twisting his head to look down at her. “Maybe you should’ve asked my mom.”

Peeking up at him, she brought a forehoof to his flank. “Next time I see her, maybe I will.”

She shifted in place and began nursing on his cock-head, reining herself just a bit. Having her throat swabbed was all well and good, although that was only half the fun. Loudly moaning and closing her eyes, making a small show of herself, she lowered her hoof and stroked him off. There would be nothing wrong with getting a facial or a belly full of foal-batter, even if it meant sending him back to the restaurant to get some napkins for her, but she had a much easier and more convenient way for them both to get off.

He kept his eyes on her, marveling at the contrast of her orchid lips against the dark teal of his stallionhood. She was an absolute stunner under any conditions, whether she was wearing her uniform or not, yet seeing her lost to her lust was provocative as all get-out. Changing gears and switching from deep, long strokes to shorter, faster ones, he bit his lip.

The impromptu blowjob couldn’t have lasted for more than a hoofful of minutes until he sensed himself getting close to his limit. The spontaneity of it being hauled into a backstreet to plow his lover’s muzzle had thrown him off his A game, robbing him of his increasingly impressive endurance between the sheets, but he hadn’t lost yet. Swinging a wing beneath himself, he patted her cheek.

“Get up and bend over for me…” he murmured.

She spun around, lifted her hips, and kissed her marehood to the tip of his length with practiced precision. Wasting no time, still concerned about being caught but too caught up in the moment to give it much thought, he plunged nearly half his length into her. He sighed contentedly and gave them both a moment to adjust and relax - at least he tried to give them a moment to adjust.

“So good,” she groaned, fiercely throwing her hindquarters in reverse.

Staring down at her, he blinked. It wasn’t the first time she’d fucked herself on him, using him like a living, breathing sex-toy, and he’d bet good money that it wouldn’t be the last. Grinning from ear to ear, getting her timing down, he matched her rhythm and pounded into her. She’d been remarkably open with him about how good he was in bed, confessing that him fully hilting her was almost too intense, so he held himself back from going all out.

His hips worked like a machine, pistoning at a downward angle, while his wings played over her sides, back, and neck. The longer he was with her, the more he’d developed certain amorous habits. Kissing and sensual caressing were a must, and he enjoyed them as much as she did, but affectionately touching her always yielded a positive result. Sure enough, after only a few seconds, she whimpered softly.

He hastened his pace, screwing her just a touch harder and faster than he had been, and smirked. “You like that, sweetness?”

“God, yes,” she moaned, her movements faltering. “Just keep hammering my foal-factory.”

“For you,” he mused, briefly sheathing his length and drawing a guttural, throaty groan from her, “anything…”

Tempest lowered her head and rested her cheek on her hooves, making herself comfortable while he took charge. She’d never had much interest in theology, yet that changed when she’d met him. He was an angel gifted to her from heaven, he treated her like a queen, and she would fight her way through Tartarus itself to keep him. As she passively milked his length, clenching her marehood on his backstrokes, her thoughts drifted to the future.

In spite of the rapture assailing her, or perhaps because of it, a vision came to her. Standing in a kitchen, adorned in a simple apron, she prepared a meal while listening to the sound of a foal scampering around behind her. She turned and smiled as the little colt whizzed by, gently chastising him for cantering in the house, until an odd feeling in her abdomen stole her attention.

Turning her head and peering back at herself, seeing her rounded belly and full figure, she smiled broadly. Zephyr was a peerless lover, caring and affectionate to a fault, and he always pushed himself to improve, so she’d stake everything she held dear that he’d be an amazing father. Fixating on the idea of siring a little filly or colt with him, willing to surrender her life of combat and turmoil to settle down with him, she came with the force of a collapsing star.

She howled out for a brief moment, before his wings shot to her snout to muffle her. The climax had hit her like a cannonball, devastating her and causing her to wail in rapture, yet she was completely ignorant to its full impact. Her ovaries went into overdrive, sending a pair of small, fertile eggs on a journey to her beleaguered womb.

“H…harder,” she growled. “Pump a foal into me and make me your mare!”

Zephyr should have stopped, dumbfounded by her fiery demand, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t slow down. He’d dreamt of spending the rest of his life with her, starting a family and settling down, yet his ambitions had been tainted by his past failings in life. Holding her waist with his wings, thinking of what could be in store for them, he pulled out all the stops and plowed her like she was a verdant field in spring.

He often tried to pace himself, to make the experience last for both their sakes, although her request had given him no quarter. His hips impacted against her toned ass, his balls slapped against her clit, and the tip of his length beat against her womb. She’d asked him to make her his mare, so that’s exactly what he was going to do.

She came a second time beneath him, mewling into his wing while her marehood gushed nectar over his shaft, until he reached the point of no return. Lowering his head and fully hilting her, he bit her shoulder and peaked. His cock pulsed with each shot of his rich, virile seed, as her mouth hung open in a silent scream. He wanted to enjoy it, presuming she’d had another orgasm just after him, yet his good time came to an end when he glanced over to her face.

Tears streamed from her eyes, she stared up at the heavens, and she trembled like a leaf in the wind. He instantly hopped off and whipped around to face her, uncaring of the mess he’d make or the attention he’d attract. The last thing in the world he’d ever want to do would be to hurt or upset her, although it appeared as though he’d done exactly that.

“H…honey,” he stuttered, wiping her cheek, “a…are you ok?”

Blinking rapidly, seemingly snapping from a trance, she looked him in the face. “Y…yeah - yeah, I‘m fine.”

The fantasy had left her shaken, dulling her physical pleasure with a taste of something more cathartic, and her head felt fuzzy. Pushing herself up on unsteady legs, she stumbled when she reached back to close the zipper over her nethers. She may have been in a haze, but she wasn’t about to leave a snail trail of cum behind herself as she went back to her hotel.

Wandering out of the alley and to the sidewalk, she moved in a trance-like state. Though it had just transpired, she couldn’t recall exactly what had happened. She would have liked to say she’d had a dream, but that would have been impossible for a number of reasons - not the least of which being she was awake. Looking over as a quartet of hooves cantered up to her side, she spotted Zephyr looking down at her and smiled.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he pressed.

“Zephyr, please, I’m fine,” she insisted. “All I need is a shower and maybe a little nap - by the way, what were you going to ask me before?”

He resignedly exhaled. “I was going to ask if you meant what you said at the table,” he stated, glancing back to where they’d had their meal. “You said you cherish me with all your heart.”

His words struck hard, piercing her emotional defenses and cutting her to the quick. Her shoulders went slack and she looked away from him. They’d said a great many things to one another over the past weeks, flirting with and complimenting each other on a near-daily basis, although there was one thing - one word she’d been scared to utter.

“Yes,” she softly admitted. “You mean more to me than anypony. I don’t know if you feel the same, but - Mmmph?!”

Leaning over, he silenced her with a fleeting kiss. Though they were dating, the title of lovers felt unearned. His wing crept under her chin, lifting her head to face him. There’d been something he’d wanted to tell her for quite some time, and now was the moment to say it.

“Tempest, I…” he shakily began.

“Don’t say it,” she breathed. “Save it for sometime special.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Special like when?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, “but you will. Just trust your heart.”

Leaning against him as she trotted along, she basked in the warmth and comfort he afforded. She knew it would only be a matter of time until they confessed their love for one another, yet saying it was of little consequence. He’d won her heart, she felt certain that she’d won his, and there was no force in Equestria that could drive them apart. She hadn’t been certain of many things in her life, yet she knew they were destined to be together…