Important Differences

by Admiral Biscuit

First published

Love knows no bounds . . . but physical differences can prove to be an insurmountable obstacle.

A pegasus and a griffon drunkenly make out. When things get more serious, important differences are revealed.

Trigger warning: griffon on pony
Now with an audio reading by AShadowOfCygnus!

Disappointing Drunk Sex

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Important Differences
Admiral Biscuit

“Mmmh.” Gene rubbed his beak against Meadowgrass' muzzle. “You're so warm.”

“Yeah.” She leaned up and pecked his cheek. “You're cute.”

He rubbed a talon against her chest, ruffling her coat. “I never thought—“

“Oh would you two get a room already?” Stardancer narrowed her eyes at the couple. “Bad enough that I haven't got a special somepony, but to see you two go at it. . . .” She folded her wing around a bottle of wine and took a swig.

“A room.” Gene blinked at Meadowgrass. “We should do that.”

“Can I use your room?” Meadowgrass looked at Stardancer hopefully. “I don't wanna—“

“Eww, no!” She rolled her eyes.

“You're just jealous that . . . oh, yes. Right there.” Meadowgrass tilted her head back and kissed Gene on the beak. “Gentle . . . gentle.”

“Seriously.” Stardancer glared at them. “You've got ten seconds to stop groping each other.”

“We're going.” Gene gave the pegasus curled in his lap one more defiant stroke with a talon, then began petting her mane. “Sheesh, what a prude. Come on, Meadow.”

The mare let out a disappointed sigh, before climbing out of his lap. “I'm so going to pester you next time you get lucky.” She braced herself on the windowsill and looked over the moonlit clouds. “Which way's your room, Gene?”

“Follow me.” He let her go first, before jumping out himself. He made a rude gesture over his back which was probably lost on Stardancer, being as how she didn't have talons of her own.

The pair drunkenly soared over the campus, until they got to Gene's window. She followed him in, and the pair tumbled onto his bed where they quickly picked up where they'd left off.

Meadowgrass spread out over the bed, letting Gene climb on top. She quivered with excitement as he put his weight on her chest. There was something indescribably erotic about having a predator crouched over her, with his beak near her face and throat. Her tail flicked against the bedsheets as he ran a talon over her chest, leaning his beak close for another kiss.

That was a logistical problem which they'd solved over a bottle of wine. She couldn't give him proper Prench kisses, which was a real downer—but his talons more than made up for it. She took the lead, working her lips through the downy feathers on his face. They felt totally different from a pegasus' wings, and she could bury her muzzle in them for hours.

He had his talons, one of which had found its position between her hind legs. She shivered as his talons traced lightly around the small mounds of her udders, occasionally scraping a teat and eliciting a small gasp from the mare.

She beat her wings against his bed, writhing under his ministrations. She lifted a hoof, and ran it over his face, reminding herself of the alien contours that made him so appealing and so forbidden. His tail—a long fleshy rope—flicked against her hind leg like a gentle whip.

“I want you so bad.” She pushed his talon downward with a hoof, just in case her words weren't an obvious enough sign. The room already reeked of her arousal, and she could feel a touch of dampness at the base of her tail. “I want to go all the way with you.”

“Mmh, me too.” He brushed his beak up against her cheek again. “How—“

“Erm, let up for a second.” She waited until he'd taken his weight off her chest, reluctantly pulled in her wings, and rolled onto her belly, lifting her hindquarters until they pressed up against him. “Is that good?”

“Your tail,” he mumbled, lifting himself off the bed. He grabbed onto it with a talon, using his other to collect errant strands. “Can you pull it up a little higher?”

“Is that—?”

“Oh, much better.” She felt him began to rub against her rump, the pressure and anticipation becoming nearly unbearable. “Just—just—oh, right there.” Meadowgrass slid her cheek against his pillow as Gene's talon brushed against her sensitive flesh. “I'm so ready.”

Gene shifted around on the bed. “I . . . I've never really looked at a mare before . . . you know, back there. Do you think I could, um. . . .”

The pegasus let out a small mewl of disappointment as he rose off her back. “If it'll make you happy.”

She felt his talons yank uncomfortably on the hair of her tail as he shifted. She glanced down along her back. His face was mostly obscured it, but what she could see made her even hornier. There was a predator back there, and he had her tail in his talons and soon he'd be right on top of her and inside her.

“How come you've got two?” His talon slid up towards her dock, and Meadowgrass clenched involuntarily.

“Woah, let's keep it simple for the first time, okay?”

“I wasn't sure,” he said defensively. “Griffons aren't the same.”

“The bottom one.” She reached back with a hoof, bracing herself against the pillow in a rather awkward position. It would be easier if she was on her back, but she just didn't want to wait any more. “Right there,” she said, stroking herself gently with a hoof.

He nodded and lifted her tail higher, almost pulling her hind legs off the bed. Just as she gave a yelp of protest, she felt his body pressing against her, soft fur sliding and massaging in a way her hoof never could.

“Oh, Celestia, yes!” Meadowgrass rocked back into him, sliding against his belly. “That feels so good.”

“This will make it feel even better.” His talon reached between her hind legs and flicked gently over her teats. Meadowgrass gasped in surprise, and thrust back against him. Gene leaned down to nibble on a wingtip.

“I'm getting close,” he whispered around a mouthful of feathers.

“Then put it in,” she hissed. “I've got a charm; I won't get pregnant.”

“Put what in?”

Meadowgrass froze.

“Don't you griffons. . . .” She managed to slide her forehooves under her, and looked back under her chest. There in the moonlight she could see a glistening cloaca between Gene's hind legs.

“We're more bird than cat,” he said proudly. “What do your stallions have?”