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New Experiences

This is a 60 Minute Challenge I had with the writer Lunar-tic. If you care to judge, know this, you must read both and comment on both to prove you read both of them. All positive comments will be counted as 1-point. These were done in an our with no spellcheck or grammar check. You can grade accordingly about grammar and/or spelling and it will add up in the total.

Prompt: Male Character, under 18, and Panties.

Soarin' jumped awake

Where the fuck am I?

He was laying on a rather large bed that was complete chaos. Pillows laid around everywhere and the comforter was nowhere to be found. The sheets lay tangled around each other.

Where am I?

Across from the bed was a dresser with a mirror on it. All across the mirror were pictures of him and the Wonderbolts. Two Wonderbolts flight suits laid across the dresser where they had been thrown.

He was obviously in a cloud house, based on the fluffy bed house itself. A bottle of lube was laying on one of the pillows. Soarin' tried to get up but found his hooves and body caught in the outfit he was wearing. He rolled over and found it hurt to sit.

The fuck? he asked himself.

He racked his brain for what had happened last night...

"Friday Bitches!!" Soarin' yelled at the top of his lungs. He was ecstatic. He had finally made his way into the Wonderboltsl below the age of eighteen.

"Well, we know who's excited," said Spitfire.

"Hell yeah! It's Friday and it's time to raise some hell!" he said as the entire Wonderbolts squadron made it's way into town.

"To the Irish Pub!" yelled Fleetfoot.

"Fuck yeah!" they all yelled together.

They tried unsuccessfully to fit through the door together, wedging themselves together and looking like fools.

"Eh! You guys are back!" said the bartender.

"Yep, the Wonderbolts are ready to drink up!" Soarin' yelled.

"Hahaha! You guys always bring the life of the party," he chucked happily.

The squad pulled themselves up to the bar as he threw out Irish beers to all of them, and they all downed the first glass together.

"Party time, ponies!" yelled Vinyl Scratch from behind her turntables.

The dance floor erupted with light and music.

The Wonderbolts all broke away from the bar and flew for the dance floor, immeaditly partnering with the other patrons who made they're way there.

"Let the Beat Drop!" and Vinyl compiled. The dance floor was blasted with loud music and pure awesome wubs.

The dance floor was instantly turned into a giant gryting pit. Soarin' found himself paired with a gorgeous white unicorn who moved like a liquid against his body. She smiled and gryted harder against him.

"Uh, I don't think so," a fiery orange hoof pulled the unicorn away from Soarin'.

"You're mine," said Spitfire, as she smiled a predator grin.

He smiled a massive grin and leapt into motion with her.

They pushed deep into the crowd and pressed against each other. Their sweaty bodies sliding over each other. Her chest pressed against his and she gryted her hips on his. She mashed her mouth against his and they were soon lipped locked and still danced energetically. They shoved together and neither minded as their bodies slid around each other.

She broke off, much to his disappointment. "If you want more, let's get back to my place," she said seductivly.

"Let's go then," he said confidently.

Oh, right. Wait, what the hell am I wearing?!?
He stared at the mirror. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail and he was wearing...

A maids outfit.

What the fuck?! he glanced down at his crotch and saw black panties barely containing his manhood.

He tore his gaze away from the mirror as a flush came from the bathroom as the plumbing did it's work.

"Ah, that was refreshing," said Spitfire as she stepped out of the bathroom. Soarin's mouth hit the floor. She was completely nude, standing bipedal in the doorway and swinging between her legs...

"Ready for round two?" she asked, her hoof stroking the massive strap-on.

Remember to read Lunar-tic's 60 minute writing challenge as well!

We both also did 15 minute writing challenges as well so read those for a laugh and/or to judge.

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The Cakemeister

The Cakemeister #1 · Nov 5th, 2012 · · ·

So, I count about 15 (mostly minor) mistakes ( in complete chaos; He was ecstatic. , He had finally made his way into the Wonderboltsl below the age of eighteen.*; made it's** way; chuckled; ~~immeaditly~~ immediately; ~~they're~~ their; ~~compiled~~ complied; ~~gryting~~ gyrating (3 times, but consistently); moved like a liquid; leapt; seductively; Let's go then, .; it's** work)

Also, Soarin' and Spitfire's dancing doesn't make sense unless they're bipedal.
Also also, the interrobang (‽) is clearly the greatest punctuation mark, and it looks like you could get some use out of it.

Despite that, I preferred your story, it seemed like the sort of thing that a young celebrity athletic group would do, and your mistakes weren't that glaring.

*this sounds off, could definitely use a better explanation. (Like: at 16, he was the first pony to make it into the Wonderbolts under the age of 18)
**You don't want apostrophes here.

TheBBofC