> A Dragon's Sweetheart
>  by Marik_Azemus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Wet Fabric
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike wasn’t entirely sure what he was dreaming about at first, but his closest guess would have been rain. It was just him, laying on his back in the moist grass. He found it odd that the moisture of the grass didn’t bother him. He couldn’t feel any of the rain on his face either. Essentially, it was everything he loved about rain, and nothing he hated about it. A pleasant dream.

The experience took a turn for the unusual when a single drop of hail collided with the very tip of his beak, shattering on impact. It didn’t hurt, but he definitely felt it. It was accompanied with some high-pitched sound that he couldn’t quite make out. He would have sat up and looked around for any more hail, or perhaps some sort of shelter, but some invisible force had him pinned to the grass.

Another bit of hail fell on his face, in the exact same location. It caused him to scrunch up his break and smack his lips. Just as the hail began to fall again, he tried to move his head. He felt the same sharp impact against the top of his head.

Spike’s eyes flew open, only to be greeted by darkness, cut only by dim rays of light peeking through the window blinds hanging over his bedroom’s round window. Even in the dark, he couldn’t miss the outline of Sweetie Belle on top of him, her curvy figure bending down to him with her lips outstretched. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

That explained everything.

The bed creaked as Spike sat up, rubbing the back of his head where he had hit against the bed frame. “I’m up...” he rasped, sitting up and looking through half-lidded eyes at a beaming Sweetie Belle, who was sitting back on her knees, obviously very proud of herself.

She was clad in a magenta blouse and white sundress, both of which, along with her mane and tail, were soaked to the bone. Little wet spots could be seen on the bedsheets around the smiling young mare.

“Hey, doll…” Spike said, his voice strained from grogginess. “When didja get here?”

Sweetie held out all of her fingers as she shifted her legs around to her front. “Ten minutes ago. Twilight let me in.” 

“Did she say anything?” Spike asked, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

“About what?”

Spike nodded his head to her outfit. Even with his sleepy eyes, he could see the fabric clinging to her every curve, twisted around her body in all the right spots. 

Sweetie Belle gave him a sly smile.“Would you care if she did?”

“No,” Spike admitted, shifting on the bed to scoot over to her. He was thankful that he hadn’t kicked off the covers in his sleep. Sweetie would have been treated to a sexy albeit compromising sight. “So…” He let himself fall onto his back once again. He patted his chest and beckoned to Sweetie Belle, raising a tantalizing eyebrow.

“Whee!” Sweetie cheered as she flung herself at Spike. She landed slightly off-course, ending up on her side next to him with her arms clumsily wrapped around his broad chest. Spike countered her little tackle by locking his claws around her pudgy waist and rolling over, taking her with him.

For a moment, their heads were pressed together, his scales against her soft fur. He could feel the beating of her heart and the gasp of her breath, an action he replicated when he smiled at her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, gripping her even tighter.

Sweetie was giggling between breaths. “Actually, ah—” She was interrupt as Spike planted another kiss, this one on her lips. “Hey!” She pushed him away with her hand. “I was gonna climb in through the window, but the fluffing thing was locked.”

“That so? Here’s an idea.” Spike pressed the tip of his beak to Sweetie’s muzzle. “When I get my own place, I’ll keep the windows unlocked.”

Sweetie wagged her finger. “Okay, but not the doors. We don’t want it to be too easy.”

“Too easy? You’re the one serving yourself up on a diamond platter.” Spike tapped Sweetie on the forehead. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Sweetie peeked away from Spike, looking under the bedsheets as she lifted them up. “Well, thank sugar you sleep in the buff, then. Saves me a lot of trouble.”

“And I thought you liked trouble, miss sneak-in-through-the-window.”

He grinned even as she slapped his leg, but that wasn’t enough to keep her from tugging back the sheets, slowly enough that it took a few moments for the blanket to uncover his lower half. 

With anypony else, Spike would have covered himself or at least kept hidden, but he simply flashed her a smile and casually spread his legs. It took Sweetie Belle a second after that to yank the rest of the blanket away and crawl towards him, her mane swept over the eyes that snaked over him.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“I haven’t run away yet, have I?” She patted his stomach and arched her back like a cat. “You get cute when you’re nervous.”

Spike’s smile disappeared as he rubbed his arm. “Come on, doll. I’m never nervous”

“Is that so?” Sweetie’s hands gracefully slid lower over his stomach, and kept going until they reached where his thighs met, eliciting a grunt from Spike. “You certainly don’t look excited down here...”

Spike looked down at his pelvis. Much to his chagrin and Sweetie’s dark amusement, his pelvis was as flat as a pancake. 

“Where’s my special friend, huh?” Sweetie asked.

“Cut him some slack. He and I just woke up.” Spike sighed and rolled his hand, urging Sweetie to come back over to him. She did as he commanded, meeting up with him in a brief kiss on the lips. A moment’s pause and a brief gaze in each other’s eyes, and their lips slammed together in unison.

It was wet, and not just because of the mess of saliva they created whenever their lips parted.  The water droplets of Sweetie’s mane and moist clothes merged with Spike, slowly turning into steam as they rolled down his heated figure. The few drops that didn’t evaporate coalesced into larger drops that found their way to Spike’s lower regions, drawing a little excitement out of him.

But that wasn’t enough.

Spike broke the kiss in the middle of a fierce tongue battle. His forked appendage hung loose and wet from his mouth. He brought it to Sweetie’s neck, dragging it up to her head. Every little laugh he got out of her made his blood race even faster throughout his hot body, even more so when he bit down on Sweetie’s ear, causing her to let out a surprised moan.

The young mare was so preoccupied with Spike’s mouth that she didn’t realize his naughty claws were undoing the buttons of her blouse. After keeping her composure for as long as she could manage, she let a blush creep onto her cheeks. She felt herself trembling with anticipation, as the thrill of her beloved dragon undressing her was nothing short of delectable. 

Spike smirked as he pulled off the blouse and tossed it away. “Hey, Sweets. You’re not wearing a bra, are you?” he asked, pointing Sweetie’s now very apparent and erect nipples, which, along with portions of her voluptuous breasts, showed through her soaked dress.

“I couldn’t make you wait that long.” Sweetie’s hands took Spike’s. She lead his touch to the edge of her dress. It was clinging to her legs, as if determined to censor her beauty from Spike’s wanting eyes. With a little persuasion, Spike was able to lift the dress.

Sweetie didn’t show any indication of the discomfort caused by a wet piece of clothing pulling on her fur. She closed her eyes and let the heavy burden of her waterlogged dress melt away, gently pulled off her body and over her head by her special somepony.

In the limited rays of light peeking into the room, Sweetie’s alabaster fur glistened with the remnants of moisture left behind by her garments. The reveal of her wet, curvaceous body was a picture-perfect moment for Spike, until Sweetie’s guise broke. She threw her arms around herself and shivered.

Spike immediately stopped gawking at his mare’s beauty and embraced her. With his chest brushing against hers, and his arms holding her tight, his natural heat graced Sweetie’s body, making her warm in more ways than one. Spike brought his wings forward and closed them around Sweetie as he gave her a gentle kiss on the muzzle.

All of the raunchy touching and anticipation for raw, loud, unapologetic intercourse disintegrated into thin air as Spike focused everything he had on keeping Sweetie warm, as well as backing up his relaying of her feelings. Words weren’t good enough.

Sweetie felt a change in position she couldn’t quite see, as her eyes were focused on her dragon, but when he retracted his wings, Sweetie could see that Spike had fallen back, and he was laying down, with her enjoying his body as a warm mattress. It was better than the most comfortable bed in the world.

A knock at the door utterly shattered the romantic atmosphere. Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, swearing he heard a record scratch. He had long accepted the inevitability that Twilight would come along to ruin his most tender moments. “Yeah, come in,” he said, trying to mask his annoyance. 

Twilight was sensitive enough to only poke her head in, making Sweetie Belle’s efforts to cover herself behind Spike unnecessary. “Hey, just taking breakfast orders. Spike, I’m guessing you’ll want chocolate chips in your hazelnut caramel waffles?” 

Pancakes were at least a close contender for the most wonderful thing in the world. “Oh, you spoil me. Go for it.”

Twilight nodded. “Sweetie Belle? I know you’re on hiatus, but I’d understand if you wanted to watch your figure.”

Sweetie looked physically wounded by such a comment. “Harps no! Pile on that whipped cream and douse it in chocolate syrup.”

“The usual, then. Alright.” As Twilight started to close the door, she gave both Spike and Sweetie Belle a teasing wave. “Have fun, you two.”

It was almost too strenuous to wait for the door to shut all the way before Spike ravished Sweetie Belle, seizing her entire body and pinning her to the bed by her shoulders. He was up on his knees. Sweetie took advantage of the opportunity by locking her legs over Spike’s, keeping herself steady as Spike peppered her neck with adoring nips. “Okay, aaha… What happened to taking it slow?”

“This is slow. If it were any other day…” Spike booped Sweetie on the muzzle. “Well. You know how it feels. What it sounds like. What I look like. What rushes through your mind when your dragon makes you his.”

“Stupid.” Sweetie grabbed a pillow and shoved it in Spike’s face. “You’re mine. I thought you realized that by now?”

Spike lightly tossed the pillow back at Sweetie. “Maybe I just like hearing you say it.”

Sweetie levitated the pillow away and dropped it on the floor. “Maybe you should ask Rarity to get you a tattoo of my name. Along with the rest of your little herd. Mine in cursive, Zecora’s in an exotic flair, Pipsqueak’s with a little cup of tea off to the side...”

With his long arms, Spike gripped her hips and stuck his forked tongue out at her. “I was just thinking of asking you the same thing.” He laughed beneath his breath. “If I have a herd, you all need to be branded, don’t you?”

Sweetie held her hands up. “Whoa, honey. I like being bitten, but that’s a little far.”

Spike smiled wide enough to show his sharp, curved teeth. “It’s early. Buuuut, you just gave me an idea.” He lunged for her, pinning the young mare to the bed. He bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, into her neck. He knew how far was too far, and he teetered right on that fine line. Sweetie moaned beneath him, giving Spike a smile and confidence to keep going.

He moved to her shoulder, licking and biting the whole way, before sinking his fangs in again. Beneath him, Sweetie’s body rolled and stretched, bending in pleasure as she called out meaningless words. His hands gripped hers, keeping her pinned but in a loving embrace.

“You know me too well,” she gasped when he lifted his jaws and bit softly into her forearm. He licked and sucked on the bite, causing her to start up another chorus of grunts, groans, and moans of glee. Not to say that he didn’t enjoy it as well, his considerable girth slapping against her belly. It felt good to let out his wild side around her.

“Okay! Okay! La remise! Remise!”

Spike tapped his claws along his jaw, looking the part of a scheming villain. “We-ell, it seems like I’ve finally found the limit.”

“Tu es une bête. I mean, you’re such a beast…”

“Yeah, well… this beast needs to stretch.” Spike wasn’t joking, but he wanted to make the most out of this so he could give Sweetie Belle a show. He succeeded in pulling away from her, somehow, and getting up on his knees. It was like he and Sweetie had switched places from when he first woke up, only they were both completely bare, a fact Spike exploited.

The athletic young dragon yawned, reaching up to the ceiling with both arms and presenting his well-endowed figure to Sweetie in full. His chest thrust out as his arms crossed behind his head, betrayed by a purely cosmetic expression. It was as if he was saying ‘What? All of this?’ with just his eyes.

“Hubba hubba,” Sweetie growled, her finger laid on her lips. “Truly a beast. Well, ma bête, I think you deserve a show as well.”

Her eyes flashed as she rolled over on the bed to give Spike a generous view of her ample rear. Her body did not move like his; rather than a straight line of muscle and sinew from head to toe, her body curved and meandered its way down in all the right places. Her broad hips, round posterior, and smooth back that curved just above her rear made for an appetizing meal. Spike licked his lips as his eyes devoured her, and his fiery heart nearly melted when she looked up at him with a sultry wink.

“You still cold?” Spike asked as he got on his hands and knees, his body looming over the alabaster beauty below.

“A little…” Sweetie purred, kicking her legs a little. Her ankles brushed Spike’s hips, causing him to feel the slightest surge.

Like a living blanket, Spike lowered himself atop her, draping her body with his own and letting his excess heat warm his breathless love. Another heat made itself known as Sweetie’s thick legs parted, making way for her sacred trove.

Spike wasn’t quick on the draw, electing to let the moment last. His claws tickled the insides of Sweetie’s legs, combing her post-winter fluff as he grew closer to something special. He felt little mats of fur held together by glistening drops of her eagerness. It was all he needed to know.

Sweetie’s calm and sexy disposition was shattered as she felt her boundaries crumble and her beloved dragon touch her nethers. Her neck craned and her teeth clasped together in a wanting hiss. There was no comparison. No other lover could bring such pleasure with just their hands. Their hands weren’t the muscular, scaly, nimble hands of a pianist.

As Spike’s claws played a loving sonata on Sweetie down below, his breath played with her from above, making her little moans shudder, broken by pure want for his touch. She tried to kiss him, but she couldn’t focus on the act long enough to make it happen. Even when he paused or moved to another part of her body, the lingering pleasure was enough to rack her body with ecstasy. She kept finding some reason to moan and call out to Spike, to tell him to give her more. All of this, and he hadn’t even penetrated her.

Spike could feel her want, her lust for him through her movements, and smiled widely. He knew the effect he had on her, and how she would give herself to him without a second thought, but he wanted to work for it; he wanted to give her something that no stallion, not even another dragon, could ever compete with.

For just a second, Spike stopped pleasing Sweetie to ponder that. What could he give her that she couldn’t get from anyone else?

Another knock at the door silenced those thoughts, as well as Sweetie’s moaning.

“Breakfaaaast!~” Twilight sang.

Sweetie facepalmed. Even when groaning, she sounded amazingly adorable. “Argh, fluff my life. Get off me, baby.”

“As you wish.” Spike didn’t want to get off of her until he could get her off, but he respected her wishes and rolled over, lying down to have himself a brief moment of pity. “Hey, day’s still young. And besides, pancakes aren’t exactly a bad substitute.”

Sweetie nodded. “You’ve got a point. For now, I’ll just eat a tasty breakfast instead of eating you. Hey, could I borrow a shirt?”





Sweetie strode into the kitchen behind a shirtless Spike. She was wearing naught but a great, billowing t-shirt and a pair of panties underneath. The shirt read “Velocentaur!” in all capital letters above a picture of a very beefy centaur on a dirt bike. While Sweetie had happily chosen it to show some support for Scootaloo’s stunt team, it was the only item of clothing in Spike’s inventory capable of covering her broad hips. What she was less sure about was her lack of pants, for which she had to blame Spike, who had claimed they weren’t needed.

She half expected Twilight to chide her about it when she walked in, but the older mare simply looked her up and down and said, “We’ve seen worse around here,” and went back to preparing breakfast for them both. She already had at least ten pancakes prepared. By the look of the mixing bowl, she was nearly done. “Don’t worry, I won’t stick around long. I’ll be taking my breakfast up in the study.”

She winked at them both, to which Sweetie smiled and Spike let out a groan, hiding his eyes with his hand. It was one thing to be open around Sweetie Belle, it was another to let Twilight in on it as well. He quit his visual complaining, though, when she arrived at the table with two plates piled high with pancakes.

“Looks amazing as usual, Twilight,” said Sweetie as Spike pulled out a chair for her.

“Oh no, Sweetie, these aren’t just amazing pancakes,” Spike said, holding his finger up, matter-of-factly. He took his seat and gestured to his plate as if it were some lost treasure. “It takes a certain amount of subtlety and finesse in order to make a morning confection of such quality. A perfect amount of air had been whipped into the batter, keeping the final product fluffy and light, but not so fragile as to fall apart at the touch of a fork. The pockets of hazelnut powder decorate the light-brown color with specks of white, granting beauty and texture in equal amounts. To counter the light, an equally dark force must take its place, and it does so in the form of hot, melted pools of semi-sweet chocolate ecstasy, kept equal distances apart to grant comfort in repetition without overwhelming the taste buds! As the crown on such gorgeous and glamorous taste, a soft sprinkling of powdered sugar embraces the surface, merging with the butter to form a glistening layer of frosted glory! All of these qualities and more are what create the apex predator of delicious saturday morning pancakes! My point is, you’re understating it.”

Sweetie slowly put her fork down. “I think you’re more in love with the pancakes than me.”

“Nah, I just can’t think of any words in the dictionary that are good enough.” Spike leaned over and kissed Sweetie on the cheek. “Dig in, lovely.”

Twilight set out two glasses of milk. “I might need to test these pancakes. You’re giving them diabetes.”

Spike laid a hand across his chest. "Oh, you wound me so! And here I thought you were the ever loving and benevolent sister I'd grown up with. Have you been replaced? Is that what caused this travesty?"

Sweetie touched Spike’s shoulder. “Save the drama for after breakfast, please?"

"Fine, fine, thanks for the meal." Spike begrudgingly stuffed both of his cheeks full of doughy, pillowy goodness, causing his faux frown to disappear entirely. “Celestia, that’s heavenly…”

“You’re welcome, Spike. I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t have too much fun.” Twilight walked up the stairs and closed the door behind her.

Spike let out a sigh. “I really need my own apartment.”

Sweetie nodded. “Preaching to the choir. Don’t get me wrong, Twilight’s a gem, but I can’t help but feel like I’m the mistress of a rich family sleeping with the hottest servant of the mansion.”

“I’m not sure whether I should be offended or humbled, but that is a romantic story. Don’t worry, Sweets. As soon as I get home from Octavia’s concert next month, I’ll take my huge sack…”

Sweetie smirked at Spike.

“...of money, and start apartment hunting. Then we can be truly alone for a while.”

“I am very much looking forward to that. I just hope whatever place you find has good walls.”

“Walls?” Spike asked through a mouthful of pancake.

A slight blush creeped onto Sweetie’s face as she pointed to her ears. “You know… soundproofing.”

Spike chuckled like an immature schoolboy who had just heard a dumb joke, then cleared his throat as he regained his composure. “I’ve already listed out my priorities. First of all, it has to have enough room for my grand piano, and the acoustics to support it. And at least two closets; one for my clothes, and the other for my designs.”

“It’s nice to have a boyfriend who is willing to compromise,” Sweetie said with a roll of her eyes. “Just split one closet into two sections. That’s what Rarity did when the Carousel Boutique was just starting up.”

Spike nodded and returned to his pancakes. “Good call. Okay, just the grand piano, then.”

Sweetie chortled, once again causing Spike’s heart to soar. Her laughter, as per the norm, was music in and of itself, and he found himself falling in love all over again. He noticed Sweetie’s free hand on the table, and for no reason in particular, reached out and grasped, slipping his claws between Sweetie’s knuckles.

The rest of breakfast was consumed in silence, aside from loud chewing on Sweetie’s part, a belch on Spike’s part, or a loud swallow on both of their parts. Throughout all of this, Spike and Sweetie kept holding hands.

Although Spike wanted to remain focused on the pancakes that Twilight clearly put her heart and soul into, he kept getting sidetracked by an alluring part of Sweetie Belle. A certain thing so alluring, he was amazed that he hadn’t had a good look at it sooner.

For a mare who loved to eat, Sweetie had the cleanest, smoothest tongue, and it always left her mouth whenever she prepared to take a bite. She didn’t just part her lips; her tongue reached out, inviting her food inside, and by the time she swallowed, her tongue had come out again, perfectly smooth and clean as before. It was uncanny, as was Spike’s sudden interest in such a muscle.

He tried to return to his breakfast, but a single sideward glance was all it took to get him enthralled once again. A dribble of syrup ran down her chin, catching the light as it did so. Spike watched as Sweetie wiped it with her fingers, then slowly and tenderly licked herself clean. Her tongue almost caressed her digits, ridding them of the sticky syrup in a way that Spike could not tear his attention from.

“I swear to Celestia, Spike,” Sweetie said after her hand was thoroughly clean, “you’d better learn this recipe from Twilight.”

“Already did. I just prefer the way she makes it. Uh, don’t take that the wrong way…”

“I get what you mean. I can make homemade hayburgers just fine, but I like them more when my dad grills them with his own ingredients,” Sweetie said as she picked up her glass of milk. “But I think, because you’re so amazing, that I’ll like your cavity-inducing breakfasts far more than Twilight’s. Superior cooking skills? Ha! Anything you touch turns to gold.” She took a long drink.

Spike set his fork down and leaned over to Sweetie Belle, a snide smirk on his beak. “Then why aren’t you already made of gold?”

Sweetie snorted with laughter. Her hands shook, and the glass of milk she had been holding spilled its contents onto her chest. “Oh, fluff.” She fanned her moistened shirt with one hand and reached for a napkin with the other. Her efforts to clean up didn’t do much good, as her shirt was already soaked, clinging to her body in a conveniently provocative manner, revealing parts of her Spike wasn’t prepared to see.

“Hey, Sweets…?” Spike muttered as an awkward glance between him, his marefriend, and her visible breasts began. A few seconds passed as the situation settled in, then mayhem ensued.

Spike leaped out of his chair, kicking it away as he dived for Sweetie, seizing her by the waist and lifting her up. She was too caught off guard to vocalize her surprise, aside from a brief, “Oh!” as she was brought to the ground. She landed on her back quickly, but it didn’t hurt, thanks to Spike’s gentleness, and the rug her head had landed on.

“You’re really doing this now?” she asked, blushing again as Spike positioned himself over her, grabbing the brim of his sweatpants. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but— Oh!” 

Spike was hard of hearing, blood pounding in his ears as he strove for what he wanted. He lifted Sweetie’s shirt, exposing her panty-clad crotch and shapely thighs. Her panties were plain, white silk with a small bow on top that blended into her fur seamlessly. Spike grinned as he saw them and placed his hand between her thighs.

“You’re warm,” he whispered in her ear, eliciting yet another blush from the young mare.

Sweetie giggled and pressed her hands to Spike’s chest. “So are you.” She moved her hands down, joining Spike’s at his waist. She quickly swung to pull Spike’s sweatpants down, revealing his fresh and fierce erection. It throbbed in her hands, and was already leaking from the tip. “Well, someone’s happy to see me.”

Spike responded with only a grunt, lifting Sweetie’s shirt the rest of the way, revealing her moist, shining breasts. He clutched one in his hand, not waiting to squeeze it furiously. His other hand was occupied with removing her panties, but after a few seconds of difficulty, he settled for just removing the portion hiding her delicate slit.

Sweetie said something, but it was inaudible beneath Spike’s draconic snarl. He lined himself up with her, and with one push, slid wetly inside her.

“Oh, Spike!” Sweetie cried out in the thralls of ecstasy. She pressed her arms to his back, holding the dragon to herself and wrapping her body around his. A smile from her assured Spike it was okay to keep going, while her eyes said fuck me.

If there were any cares to be had that they were rutting like animals on the wooden floor of Twilight’s library, those cares quickly burned to ashes in the heat of passion and raw desire. It was unfathomably to think that the room was calm and orderly a minute ago.

Spike was deep in Sweetie, to the point of barely having to remove himself from her before thrusting back in. The strength of his thrusts and the previous near-climax Sweetie had experienced in the bedroom hadn’t subsided. It had only taken a few thrusts to bring her back, and now she wanted it, him, more than ever.

As such, Spike did something new. He kept his eyes locked with Sweetie’s, but his body moved forward, his claws digging into the rug. Sweetie’s waist went airborne, as Spike’s cock was bound to her insides, and she couldn’t resist this change. She liked it, though, as Spike had so much more weight, and it made his already sizeable dick seem even larger.

There wasn’t any desire to be quiet to begin with, and the guttural growls of the dragon and the ecstatic moans of the mare had escalated to almost violent levels. They couldn’t help it. Sweetie was cumming fast, and Spike’s blood was boiling. He had to have this. Spike want.

Sweetie’s breath hastened until it was nothing more than panting. Then, for a moment, her legs bent, her back arched, and she went silent, her eyes facing the ceiling. When she finally made another noise, it was a satisfied, blissful moan. 

When she finally found the strength to breathe again, she leaned her noggin against Spike’s and whispered, “More.”

Spike had barely even stopped, only having paused long enough to hear Sweetie’s loving moans. Like a well-oiled machine, Spike went back to work, just as heavy and lustful in his thrusts as he was before, putting all of his cock, pelvis, and body into satisfying himself and his mare. 

In the middle of a gasp from Sweetie, Spike swore he heard something else, but he didn’t pay it any mind. The rest of the world wasn’t important. All that mattered was every little thing to Sweetie Belle that he couldn’t help but love. Everything from her seemingly unmessable fur, her lovely bits of squeezable flab, the beads of sex-induced sweat that made her body shine like a centerfold, the intermingling of her singing and moaning as he drove himself into her without restraint. The rest of the world was insignificant, until the inevitable moment when he would have to remove himself from his Sweetie…

“Wow, uh…”

Again, like a machine, Spike kept going, only to power down when he finally took notice of the shift in light, the creak of the door, and the two ponies that were just treated to a raw, uncensored act of depravity. As Spike’s thrusts slowed and he was brought back to sanity, Sweetie Belle sat up, covering her breasts with one arm and her nethers with the other. Spike simply crossed his legs as he stepped away from her. His thighs quickly became wet with marecum and pre.

Spike was at least thankful for some things. For one, the carpet would wash out easily, and of all ponies to have seen such a thing, he counted himself lucky it was Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo. The latter had her hand slapped to her head, laughing hysterically. Spike couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or genuinely amused.

“Sorry Scoots. Your routine is impressive, but this is the highlight of my day.” Rainbow patted the wide-eyed and smiling Scootaloo on the back, then leaned down, staring at Spike. “How ya doin’, slugger?”

“Oh, you know…” Spike tried to sound as casual as possible. “Getting by.”

“Right.” Rainbow said with a snigger. “Speaking of getting things, I’m just gonna grab a book on advanced flight techniques and try to pretend this isn’t the funniest damn thing I’ve seen all week.” She patted Spike’s spines and swaggered on past, choking on her own laughter all the while.

Scootaloo, while still humored, looked a bit more exasperated than Rainbow Dash. “Have I mentioned that it’s a good thing you live in this town?” 

“Only three times,” Sweetie mutters.

“You’d give the Canterlot nobility collective heart attacks.”

“Said that two times.”

Scootaloo groaned, stomping around Spike and Sweetie Belle. “Well, I wouldn’t have to repeat myself if you two would show a little restraint. I mean, come on, I love you both. Salt of the earth. But you two need to take me seriously when I say,” Scootaloo reached into her shoulder bag and brought out a megaphone, “GET A ROOM!!”

Spike had covered Sweetie’s ears in anticipation. He let go and moved his hands down, adjusting her shirt so her breasts were no longer exposed. Sweetie straightened it out. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” she said. She grabbed her panties and put them back on. “You could have at least knocked.”

“We did,” Scootaloo said as she opened the fridge. “And as punishment for your lack of self-control, as well as ruining my shirt, I’m stealing a slice of this cake.”

Spike did a double-take. “Wait, there’s cake?”

 Sweetie’s eyes widened. She broke away from Spike, waving her arms wildly as Scootaloo. “Woahnonono! Put that away!”

“Huh? Oh, shi—” Scootaloo dropped the cake on the counter. Sweetie tried to hide it from sight, but Spike had already seen it.

“Too late, I just remembered,” said the dragon. He shrugged and stepped over to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, who backed away from the cake. Scootaloo looked confused, and Sweetie seemed remorseful. “Hey, you alright?” Spike asked, stroking Sweetie’s cheek.

“Guess the damage is already done,” Sweetie said softly. “Have a look at it.”

Spike took a closer gander at the cake. The icing was colored with waves of purple and pink, much like Sweetie’s mane, and the frosting around the border was shaped like scales. In the center, more frosting formed a microphone, which was placed between a pair of dragon wings.

“Oh.” Spike smiled and grimaced at the same time, facepalming and leaning on the counter. “Twilight must have planned to bring that out later.”

“Can I slap him?” Scootaloo asked.

“No, you can’t.” 

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I forgot too.” Sweetie tapped Scootaloo on the muzzle and approached Spike. She held his cheeks, her fingers fondling his dorsal fins. She kissed him lightly. 

“Happy anniversary, babe,” said Spike.

“Happy anniversary, sap,” said Sweetie.

> Caffeinated Fabric
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Scoots, but thanks for the Coitus Interuptus,” said Spike. “If you hadn’t shown up, and Sweetie and I hadn’t remembered today was our big day, I wouldn’t have been able to reschedule my reservation at the Sunset Soiree in time.”

"That's what I'm here for,” said Scootaloo. She leaned back in her chair and took a huge drink from her cup. It was labeled with a crude misspelling of her name, which used a K instead of a C, and an improper amount of O’s.

The neon sign above the front door, which boasted the coffee shop’s name, Donut Unto Others, flickered off as the nearby clock turned to 10:00 AM. Happy hour at the coffee shop had officially come to an end, and not a moment too soon, as Sweetie Belle was just coming back with her white chocolate mocha (Large size, of course). She took a seat next to Spike, who was drinking an ice tea.

“So, yeah, no scales off my back,” Spike continued. “We’ll just change the celebration of our year together to a celebration of a year and two days.”

“And that’ll make it just a little more special,” Sweetie Belle said. She leaned in and kissed Spike on the cheek. After a brief pause, he seized her by the waist and tickled her, causing her to snort and break out laughing. “Agh! You lug!” 

“I’m not a lug, I’m a dragon.”

“Foul beast!”

Scootaloo shielded her eyes from the sight, wearing a grimace so intense it was as if she was in actual pain from the couple’s cuteness. “Oh, give me a break…”

Sweetie managed to calm down from her burst of laughter, at least enough to lean her head back and kiss Spike on the beak. She had to hold herself back from a more passionate kiss, as she didn’t want to create a scene. She was already a little paranoid. As she let go of Spike, she reached into her coat pocket and brought out a pair of sunglasses.

“What’s up with those?” Spike asked, though he thought up the answer to his own question as he asked it. “Oh, right.”

“I’m fresh off of my latest concert tour, babe. In the mind of a paparazzo, I’m relevant again. I need to keep a low profile.” Sweetie put the sunglasses on. Even in incognito, she still managed to pull off the look. 

Spike, of course, knew why sunglasses would be so effective against any unwanted attention, as Sweetie’s wide eyes were her most defining feature. She and him both had long since come to accept this as a necessary drawback in an otherwise very successful relationship. Still, he felt a need to console her. “Doll, you know you’re always relevant.”

“Heh, then you clearly don’t know how the mind of a paparazzo works.” Sweetie stirred her drink and took a sip. “Mmm, that’s heavenly. See, if I don’t get into a car crash or make out with someone other than my pedestrian boyfriend—”

“Pedestrian?” Spike muttered with a smile.

“—then I’m not good material for the tabloids. The most they’ll be able to attack me over is getting a mustard stain on my blouse, or walking through the bad part of town.”

“What bad part?” Scootaloo asked. “Ponyville has no bad parts. There’s just, like, that one house that needs a new paintjob.”

Sweetie shrugged and took another drink. “They’ll figure something out. They always do.”

“You know you don’t need to stick by their standards of what makes you a good pony, Sweets. All you need to be is you.” Spike clasped his hands together and cracked a devious grin. “In fact, I say that you can have more control over them than they have over you.”

“Honestly, the line is pretty blurred. My actions can influence them as much as they can influence, ah…” Sweetie trailed off as she looked over Scootaloo’s shoulder.

Clear across the coffee shop was a filly, at least twelve years old at a glance, sitting next to her parents. She was holding a hot chocolate in one hand, and nervously clutching her headphones in the other as she glanced repeatedly towards Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie smiled at the filly, took off her glasses and got out of her seat. “Back in a tick.”

Spike watched as his mare strode over to the filly’s booth. “Isn’t she a wonder?” he asked Scootaloo. “Of all the celebrities I could be with, I had to end up with the nicest one in existence. And she’s fantastic with kids, too.”

Scootaloo narrowed her gaze at Spike. “Reeeeally.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Spike asked, holding his arms out.

“Nothin’...”

Sweetie was on her way back, with the filly following fast on her heels. She was looking in a different direction, this time at Spike. She skipped ahead and stood between Spike and Sweetie’s chairs. “Uh, hi,” she said quietly.

“Hey there, little one,” Spike said, putting his drink down and turning his chair. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Sweetie shook her head. “No, but you know her garb. Have a look at it.”

Spike leaned down and looked over the filly’s white jacket. He recognized it through and through, from its crested hood to its oversized tail, as well as the fang-shaped zipper. “He-hey, that’s my design! You have good taste in clothes, kid.”

“I’m a big fan of your work…” the filly said reluctantly. She was squeezing her braid nervously. “I have three more of your jackets at home.”

“That’s awesome. I worked really hard on those, I didn’t know if anyone else wore them.”

The filly dropped her guard, smiling up at Spike as she swung back and forth. “Well, ever since I started wearing the stuff you’ve made, this colt I like has started talking to me a lot more… And, uh, that’s a bit of a problem. I think so, anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Spike asked.

“Well, if he doesn’t like me for, uh, me… Do you think he just likes the way I look?”

Spike smiled wrily, leaning back in his chair. "Well... I should be honest, that’s just because of how boys work. When I was a little kid, I had a crush on two different unicorns in less than a week. One at Celestia's academy, and one in a town called Ponyville. You've heard the name Rarity, right?"

"Oh, my mom has some of her dresses. They look amazing on her.”

“Custom designed?”

“Yep.”

Spike gave a light chuckle. "Yeah, Rarity has an eye for inner beauty. Me? I only looked skin deep, back then. One look at Rarity and I fell like a spastic boy on espresso. Who’s blind. In a rock museum. I had her pegged as something more than just another pretty mare.” Spike made quotations with his claws. “The One. Of course, I was a kid and she was already running her own store, but..." He trailed off with a shrug, before getting back on topic. "Anyways. I liked her for how pretty she was. And a few other things… She was generous. Kind. Chill. But she wasn’t The One." Spike scratched his cheek, frowning slightly. “This is a bad metaphor. My point is, I wouldn’t have found out what a great mare she is if she hadn’t looked so amazing. Same case for this pretty thing.” He pointed at Sweetie, who ran her fingers through her hair. “Good looks are the first step towards falling in love. But make sure this kid focuses on your personality. That’s far more important, okay?”

The filly looked a little overwhelmed, but she had a small, determined smile on her face. "O-of course. Thank you. And, uh, thanks for making the duds."

Sweetie handed Spike her pen. Spike clicked it open. “Awesome. Would you mind if I…?”

“Not at all. Have at it,” the filly said, turning around and flaring out her jacket. Spike scribbled his name in stylish, faux-cursive letters. After he finished, the filly turned around a few times to get a look at it. “Score! Two in one day! Mom! Dad!” She ran back to her parents with a spring in her step.

Spike turned back to his ice tea and took a victory drink. “Cute lil’ scamp, isn’t she? They’re so cool at that age—” 

Spike’s voice was silenced by a pair of lips. Sweetie Belle had just forced herself onto him, clenching her arms to his shoulders and hopping onto his lap. “Why are you so attractive right now?” she asked him.

“Hm, clue me in, my rhetorical starlet…” Spike muttered to Sweetie.

Scootaloo facepalmed, dragging her hand over her face. She grabbed a few sugar packets and rolled out of her seat. “I’m gonna go ralph in the street. Don’t wait up.”

> Fancy Fabric
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweetie Belle skipped out of her closet. From her chest to her hooves, she was adorned in a shimmering, flowing gown. Its purple color shined in the light of the sunset that peeked through the curtains.

Sweetie strutted back and forth across her room, taking exceptional care not to step on her CDs and dirty clothes that she was too lazy to pick up. She couldn’t walk as fast as she would have preferred. “It’s a little tight on the legs,” she said. She turned to the other mare in the room. “Uh, Babs, could you…”

“I gotcha.” The broad mare flourished a pair of scissors and kneeled down to Sweetie’s knee. She grabbed the end of her dress and carefully sliced a thin line up her leg, stopped just before her hip. “That better?”

Sweetie spun around and walked another lap, this time completely unhindered. “Alright, now we’re talking! Now that we’ve got functionality, I wanna have a look at form.” She stepped over her bed to the other side of the room, where a tall mirror awaited her. Her eyes and smile widened to ridiculous sizes as she got a look at herself. “Ooooh! Oh my glob, this is the best thing ever!” she squealed, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

Babs had a cocky smirk, as per usual. She leaned on the dresser and took a bite out of her hayburger. “Toldja my mom’s stuff’d look good on ya. She’s just ya size… Makes family pictures a little awkward, but she’s got taste.”

“Oooh, I believe it!” Sweetie jumped in place, clapping her hands rapidly. She kept looking at herself in different poses, never failing to look anything less than stunning. “Oh, just… It’d be an insult to even go anywhere with this, just snap my neck right now so I can die this pretty!”

“Hell naw, ya’ve got a hot dragon ta please tanight,” said Babs. “And don’tcha dare worry ‘bout him liking the dress. Ya could go up ta him wearin’ a trash bag and bottle caps and he’d be all ova ya.”

“Hate tah burst yer bubbles, Babs, but trash bags ain’t in this season,” said Apple Bloom, who strolled into the room with her mane in a tussle and her tank top heavily wrinkled. Her status was the exact opposite of Sweetie Belle’s. She was rough, dirty and uncomposed, and she had a bottle of apple cider in her hand. “So, what’s scale double-tail doin’ with ya tonight?” 

Sweetie clenched her fists together, absolutely ecstatic for the evening that lay ahead. “Omigosh, omigooosh! Spike is taking me to a romantic dinner at the Sunset Soiree. It’s only the most exclusive restaurant for trust fund teenagers and rejects from Canterlot! He only got the reservation because he had some pull.”

“Pull?” Babs asked.

“Spike plays piano over there all the time, and he’s friends with one a’ of the place’s biggest shareholders,” Apple Bloom explained. “Basically, he can decide who lives and who dines.”

All three mares in the room burst out laughing. Sweetie held her gut as she did so, clutching her mouth in an attempt to stop. “Don’t make me do that! I’ll wrinkle the dress!”

Babs’ meaty fingers grabbed Sweetie’s bare shoulders. Her intense gaze stopped Sweetie’s laughter right in its tracks. “Hey, remember. Trash bag. Yer gonna have a magical freakin’ evenin’ whether ya look spankable or not. Ya feel me?”

“I can’t feel my shoulders,” Sweetie squeaked.

“Well, I can, and dayum, girl!” Babs released Sweetie. “You’ve got pudding in those things. What did you have for lunch?”

“Hardly anything. I’ve been prepping for this dinner all day, and that includes stomach control.”

“Guess that means your pantry’s full, for once,” said Apple Bloom. “Don’t be surprised if your carton of ice cream is gone when you get back.”

Sweetie Belle brushed off her shoulders and brushed past Apple Bloom, heading out into the hall and down the stairs. “Have at it, squatters. I’ve got two more hidden elsewhere.”

Apple Bloom and Babs followed quickly on Sweetie’s tail as she headed for the front door. She put on a pair of black loafers with one hand, undoing the deadbolt with the other. After she opened the door, she turned to her friends and bowed. “Thanks for helping me get prepped. Today was a nightmare. I can’t wait to just relax with my Spike for a little while.”

Babs folded her arms and leaned against the dining table. “It’s yer anniversary, girl. Tha whole freakin’ world should be stoppin’ fer ya.”

“Don’t mess up your hair,” Apple Bloom snipped at Sweetie. “Do you know how hard it was to make it stay like that?”

Sweetie felt the impressively smooth bun that the farm girl had spent an inordinately long time putting together. For someone with a constant bedhead, Apple Bloom had a surprising proficiency in styling hair. “I promise I won’t ruin your work. Besides, Spike has a soft spot for prim and proper mares, so I’m sure he’ll force me to keep it up when things get serious tonight.”

“Wheeeen?” Apple Bloom asked, leaning over the table and raising her eyebrows provocatively. 

Sweetie sighed and shrugged. “Spike is buying me dinner at a location more exclusive than Princess Celestia’s bedroom. The dude is getting laid, trust me.”

“Yeah, well, stick it to ‘im good for me.” Babs wrapped her beefy arm around Sweetie’s neck in a near chokehold. It was her best way of showing affection, and Sweetie was thankful for it, regardless of the minor distress it caused her. She was much more appreciative of Apple Bloom giving her a tender hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Kinda wish I was goin’ with ya,” said the farmgirl. “But it’s yer guys’ anniversary, so it’s all good.”

“I’ll convince Spike to take you out to brunch sometime soon. These fancy dinners aren’t your style, trust me.” Sweetie waved to her friends and dipped out the door. “You two have a good night!”

Apple Bloom waited until the exact second the door closed to sigh and stretch her arms out. “Alrighty, Cous. We now have free reign of a superstar’s casa. Whaddaya wanna do?”

Babs had been waiting all day for Bloom to ask that question. She lifted up the newspaper on the table, revealing a box set of Khala-Kane and the Seven Wives. “Get in our undies, order Neighponese takeout and watch sweaty Saddle Arabian dudes on the flatscreen.”

Apple Bloom pointed to the living room. “You read my mind!”





The streets of Ponyville were fresh out of a weekend of rain and wind. As such, the crisp scent of moisture mixed with pasture and apples was rather sharp that evening. Sweetie had deliberately chosen to wear loafers instead of high heels, as she had a relatively long walk to take. She remembered what Spike’s parcel had said when it showed up on her doorstep that morning.

Sunset Soiree, 7 o’clock tonight. Meet me there. Bring your pretty face.

As per the norm with Spike, he had included a blue rose in the package. The novelty of such a gift hadn’t worn off, and Sweetie had long since accepted the blue rose as the trademark of their relationship. It also doubled as a healthy snack. She took a bite out of the blue rose as she entered the town common. 

Within her passing vision, she swore that every second building she passed was a restaurant that would inevitably pale in comparison to The Sunset Soiree. Then again, if Spike were there, it wouldn’t matter much where they went, but going to a high-class restaurant that even Rarity hadn’t set hoof in before was the cherry on top of a delicious ice cream sundae of an evening. It was like having her cake and eating it too…

“Flarg it all, I’m hungry…” Sweetie whined, rubbing her stomach. That would be the third perk of the evening; free dinner. On any other night, they would have agreed to go splitsies, but Spike insisted that all of tonight was on him.

Sweetie’s ear flicked. She could have sworn she heard the strum of a guitar. Her astute eyesight that she had pick up from seeking out friends and family in cheering crowds told her that her ears weren’t lying to her. But it was more than some simple street performer playing for coins or his own amusement. Something told Sweetie that this song was just for her.

“Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?
Would you be an outlaw for my love?
If it's so, well, let me know, if it's no, well I can go...
I won't make you…”

Spike sat atop a wooden sight outside the Sunset Soiree. boasting a green scale-patterned suit with an elongated coat. His leather shoes were tapping against the painted ‘S’ of the sign. He held a flame-patterned guitar in his hands, and he was demonstrating some aggressively medium skill. He was clearly better as a pianist, but he made up for this shortcoming with passion.

“Won't you let me walk you home from school?
Won't you let me meet you at the pool?
Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance...
And I'll take you, ooh ooh…”

Sweetie applauded to her dragon as he took a bow. “Aw, you made a song about our first date?”

“That wasn’t the initial intention, but I decided to work it in about halfway through.” Spike leaped off of the sign and set the guitar behind it. Sweetie met him where the curb met the grass and gave him a quick kiss. Much to her appreciation, and expectation, Spike took some time to admire her outfit. “Hellooo, curves.”

“I know! Don’t I just sparkle?” Sweetie stepped away and spun on her heels. “Whoop!” She flubbed the landing, her loafer scuffing against a rock and causing her to fall off-balance. Spike, being quick on the draw, dashed to her and caught her before she hit the ground. Sweetie caught her breath, realized what situation she was in, and laid her hand across her head like a swooning maiden. “Avast, my dearest baron… Do be gentle!”

“Since when am I not, my dear?” Spike asked. He tapped the small bruise on Sweetie’s neck. “Uh, this notwithstanding.”

“Oh, did I forget to mask that?” Sweetie adjusted the strap of her dress to cover up the bruise. “So… Do you still remember our first date?”

Spike folded his arms and paced back and forth. “Geez, that was a while ago. If I’d known we’d be here now, I would have committed it to memory.”

Sweetie leaned on the fence and smiled up at Spike, her head tilted, an adorable smile across her muzzle. “Well, I remember. Twilight was hosting a school dance at her castle. There was one problem, though; the rest of the Crusaders got dates, and I wasn't about to go doe while Scoots was in the corner fondling Junior Mint, and Apple Bloom was sneaking cider with Bootstrap."

"Give that kid props, he had big hooves..."

"Aha! You do remember!”

“Guess I do. But I like stories better when you tell ‘em. Keep going.”

“Right…” Sweetie tapped her fingers as she continued. “So, there I was, expecting a sad and quiet night with nopony to show me a good time. I was spending the afternoon in the boutique, helping Rarity with some dress that I would never wear. Then, well... enter the handsome prince."

"Blueblood?"

Sweetie poked Spike’s beak. "The handsome, charming, and smart prince, ya goof."

"Ah, right. Didn't I make some amazing speech to you? I think I had something written down. I waxed poetry, I swear-"

"Nah, you just said, 'You wanna go with me?' And you know what I said?"

"'I'm gay.'"

Sweetie slapped her hand to her face and laughed heartily, interrupted by a few snorts. "No, you dunderhead, I said nothing, took your hand, and dragged you to the dance. My dress wasn't even finished, but you said I looked amazing anyway."

"Well, I'm a horrible liar."

"After a few slow dances, we snuck into Diamond Tiara's pool and, uh,” Sweetie made paddling motions with her hands, “swam a few laps."

Spike was able to remember one bewitching detail that he made sure to hang on to. "I kissed you once."

"You missed. Pecked my neck."

Spike facepalmed. "Eh, crash landing is still a landing…” He pauses, lost in the memory of that magical night, cursing himself for letting it slip away, even for a little bit. He also cursed himself for not taking advantage of a perfect opportunity. “We should have skinny dipped."

Sweetie holds her arms out in disbelief. "We should have skinny dipped!"

The door to the restaurant opens. An elderly pony with a finely groomed mustache and slick hair poked his head out and waved. "Sir Spike, there you are! Will you and your loved one be taking your dinner out on the balcony, or will you be coming inside?"

"Yes,” Spike blurted out. “Err, the former, if she wants."

Sweetie caught Spike off guard by stroking his chest. "My my, Sir Spike, what lewd images you make of me. And I would like to avoid any rain, so, yes, let’s go… inside."

Spike took Sweetie’s hand and gestured to the entrance of the restaurant. “To dinner!” He pulled her along like an excited child. The last time Sweetie had seen him this giddy, it had been the morning after they left the hotel, exactly one year ago. It filled her with a warm fuzziness to know he was still this excited about her, mostly because she felt the exact same way.





“Ugh, I hope this isn’t one of those restaurants that forces you to wait more than twenty minutes for the waiter. I’ve starved myself all day for this.”

Spike eyed Sweetie Belle skeptically. “Bullcrap, you were nomming a bear claw when we left the coffee shop.”

Sweetie tilted her eyebrow. “Yeah. A bear claw.” As she took a gander at the menu, she put on a concerned frown. “Oh, sweet Celestia, tell me this isn’t one of those restaurants with the insanely small serving sizes on giant-ass plates!”

“Who would I be if I brought you to a place like that? That’s the worst sin anyone could commit. Besides, have a look at that.” Spike pointed to the table nearby, where another couple was dining on hefty bowls of salad. “People pay good money just to get in here. We’re getting what we deserve. More importantly, you’re getting what you deserve.”

“Already got it. This is just a bonus.” Sweetie narrowed her gaze as she looked over the menu. “Hm.”

“See something you like?”

“Nah, I’m just pretty sure these contacts are bunk. Where’s their soups?”

Spike looked up from his menu. “Wait, you wear contacts?”

“Yeah, since fifth grade,” Sweetie said as she poked her eye and took out a small translucent lens. “I never told anyone because I was worried Diamond Tiara would knock me down a peg. But, then again, she found a reason to mock me anyway, so I guess it was a Mareton’s Fork.” She put the lens back on. “There we are.”

Spike slapped his menu shut and set it back on the table. “Well, I’ll be damned. I just learned something new about you.”

“Ooh, in that case, you should tell me something I don’t know about you.” Sweetie leaned her chin on her hands. She ignored Spike’s blush. “Come on, come on! Fess up, buddy.”

“I… find glasses incredibly arousing?” Spike shrugged. “So, yeah. Does that count?”

“Honey, that isn’t specific to you. Come on, surely you haven’t told me all there is to tell about such a colorful, virile dragon with an all-access pass to Ponyville’s most erogenous activities.” Sweetie leaned over to Spike and tapped his forehead with her knuckles. “Hello? Anything in there? Has your memory bank gone MIA?”

Spike grabbed Sweetie’s hand and held it tenderly. “Okay, okay! I have something, but it’s a little embarrassing…” He sniggered. “And kinda awesome. Awesombarrassing. See, uh…” He looked around for any passersby. The coast was clear as could be, and the droning of diners in the background would cover up his voice. He twiddled his fingers, leaned towards Sweetie, and gently pulled her in by her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, “I’ve been in two orgies.”

“No spit,” Sweetie said, sitting back down.

“As in, ‘No spit?’, the question demanding clarification that I have, in fact, been in two orgies, or ‘No spit’, the statement that expresses your lack of surprise that I have, repeating my statement, been in two orgies?”

“Little of column A, little of column B. On the one hand, it doesn’t surprise me, on the other, you don’t really hear of such a thing outside of late-night cable.”

“And Twilight’s stash,” Spike mutters.

“Heheh, yeah.” Sweetie giggles. “Oh, that reminds me, I’ll have Fisherpony’s Wife 2: The Retenticling back to her this sunday.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

Sweetie hides her blush behind her menu. “We’re probably not gonna be able to move our legs for most of tomorrow, so why risk it?”

Spike offered his fist to Sweetie beneath the table. She bumped it softly.

Some time passed in silence as Sweetie Belle and Spike kept considering what they should order for dinner. Spike was especially impressed that the restaurant had a side menu for dragons, with gem-inclusive modifications of existing dishes. Sweetie Belle was drawn more towards the dessert menu, of course. She had restrain herself from salivating.

“If you want my personal recommendation, I’d go with the chocolate lava cake,” said someone behind Spike and Sweetie. The both turned their heads to see a svelte young pegasus with feathered black hair and a smooth white coat. He wore a peacock jacket over a slimming waistcoat. “Hey.”

“How’d you get in here, Rumble?” Spike asked.

Rumble folded his arms. “Spike T. Dragon! I am very disappoint! Is it so hard to believe that I might not have a shot at getting into an establishment as luxurious as this?” He then shrugged and leaned on Spike’s chair. “The answer is yes, actually, because I’m on a date. She’s just powdering her face at the moment, not that she needs to, and I had overheard Sweetie’s voice clear across the room.”

“I’ll be quieter…” Sweetie said, shying away a little.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Spike said. “And who’s the lucky fella?” he asked Rumble. “Are you still seeing that rich dude from Trottingham? Whatshisname? I liked that guy.”

Rumble shook his head. “Nah, Whatshisname went back home. I’m actually with somepony of the female persuasion tonight. You might know her. Go ahead, take a stab at it. No hints.”

“Silver Spoon?” Sweetie guessed.

“Nope, she’s at a convention,” Spike said. “What about Diamond Tiara?”

“Why does everyone assume I’m out with the two hot, incredibly open-minded models…?” Rumble trailed off, blinking a few times. “Huh. Just answered my own question.”

Spike took another guess. “Flitter or Cloudchaser?”

“Out of town,” said Sweetie Belle. “Caught ‘em at the train station when I came home from Trotfest.”

“Them, I would have taken here,” Rumble admitted. “They’re on the fast track to joining the Wonderbolts, and they deserve it. So, you give up?”

“Yeah, we give. So, who’s the lucky girl?” Sweetie asked.

“Yo!” As if serendipity had heard Sweetie’s question, the mare in question came strutting in with a glass of wine in one hand, flashing bullhorns with the other. Vinyl Scratch looked elegant in her cocktail dress, but she did not act the part. The scarlet cowboy hat on her head was an especially bizarre addition. She pulled Rumble close to her with one arm and said, “I was wondering where this one ran off to!” 

“Just saying hello.” Rumble gestured to Spike and Sweetie, who each received a hand slap from Vinyl.

“Hey, yo, wassup. Sweets!” Vinyl pointed to Sweetie Belle in an exaggerated fashion. “Glad I ran into ya, cause we gotta talk business.” 

“Is now the best time?” Sweetie asked, her expression turning dull.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick. Y’know that orchestral electronica album we discussed? I’m sending you another track next week. Do with it whatcha will, okay?”

Sweetie brightened up quickly, showing a thumbs up. “Oh, awesome! You’ve got it. I’ve actually, uh, been considering having Spike get involved on the project. If that’s okay with you.”

Vinyl cooed and slid on over to Spike’s chair, brushing his spines and squeezing his shoulders. “Sa-sa-sensational! Have you heard this bro’s chops? If you can listen to him sing for more than five minutes without your panties burning a hole through the floor, I’m sorry, but you need to get your plumbing checked.”

“Classic Vinyl,” Spike muttered with a blush. “I’ll try to keep my set to four minutes, fifty-nine seconds max.”

“Ah, mild arousal. There you are. We’re gonna sell like hot cakes!” Vinyl drummed her hands on the table. “What are you dudes drinking tonight?”

“White wine spritzers,” Spike and Sweetie said at the same time. They gazed at each other, smiled, and held each other’s hand. “Awww!”

“Awesomesauce. They’re on us,” Vinyl said. 

Spike fell back in his seat a little bit. “Woah, wait. You—” 

“‘Aw, Vinyl, you’re too nice! You don’t have to do that! It’s not worth the trouble!' Oh, shut up in advance. You’re getting drinks for free, because I’m super rich and generous. Deal with it.” Vinyl wrapped her arms around Rumble’s back, her head leaning against his. “It was his idea anyway, so throw your disingenuous hate at him for trying to be nice.”

Sweetie clapped her hands together. “You’re too good to me, Vinyl. Recommending me for your label, and now this?” She bowed. “Respect.”

“That won’t be the end of it, I promise,” Rumble said. He tilted his brow as he looked up at Vinyl, just now noticing the cowboy getup on her head. “Where’d you get that hat?”

“What hat?” Vinyl felt her head and took the hat off. “Didn’t have that on when I went into the bathroom.”

Spike patted Vinyl on the shoulder. “Clearly you’re thinker than you drunk you are. Best get out of here before you collapse.”

“Way ahead of you, kid.” Vinyl kissed Rumble on the cheek, albeit in a drunken, sloppy sort of way. “Let’s get out of here, buddy.”

As Vinyl pulled on Rumble’s wrist and dragged him away, he dug his shoes into the carpet to say one last thing. “Just put her name on the check. She’ll cover it.”

“Don’t leave me hanging!” Vinyl pulled even harder, her hands slipping off of Rumble’s arm. “This is a limited time offer!”

“I find that hard to believe.” Rumble straightened out his waistcoat, fixed his collar, and lead Vinyl away. “See you later, fellas.”

Spike waited until the glass door closed behind Rumble before he spoke again. He snickered as he said to Sweetie Belle, “He’s like that dorky kid with the crazy, perverted fantasies that all came true. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m actually glad for him.” 

“Really?” Sweetie asked.

“Yeah, I mean… That poor kid was completely aimless. Didn’t go out often, wouldn’t stick around at a party for more than a few minutes, and he couldn’t hold down a relationship to save his life. Now he’s finally coming out of his shell.”

“I dunno. Seems a little off to me.” Sweetie stroked her chin.

“How so?”

“I know that some kids have a tendency to break away from their awkwardness, but never this quick. I’m a little suspicious. But, then again…”

Spike completed her thought. “The same thing happened to both of us, remember?” 

Sweetie looked over the room in consideration and, after a few seconds, nodded. Before she could reply, the waiter had come over. “Oh, hello!”

“Our apologies for the wait, madam and sir,” he said in a posh accent. “There was a situation in the lavatory that had to be resolved.” He picked a bit of glitter off of his suit. “I will now take your orders, if it would please you.”

Spike tapped his menu. “We’ll both have white wine spritzers, and I’m feeling in the mood for a diamond quiche.” He smiled at Sweetie. “And for you, doll?”

“Chocolate lava cake, and make it messy.” Sweetie licked her lips as she handed both her and Spike’s menu to the waiter. “We thank you very much.”

“Nothing of it, madam. We’ll have your meals to you posthaste.” The waiter jotted down the word ‘messy’ on his notepad and took the menus, walking away with his muzzle pointed firmly upwards. Sweetie tried to pay no mind to the bits of glitter lining his waistcoat and pants.

“I dunno what’s going on in the bathroom, but I think I’ll be better off not knowing,” said Sweetie. She put her hand on the table, and Spike laid his over hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. They remained that way in silence for another few minutes, as they mulled over a few stray thoughts that didn’t need to be said. Although, there was one thought that did come up vocally. “Wait, did you say Silver Spoon was at a convention?”

“Yep.”

“She has a pool.”

“She does have a pool.”

Sweetie tapped her fingers together. “Ooooh, that lava cake cannot come fast enough.”

“As opposed to you, my dear,” Spike japed.

The two fistbumped again.

> Soaked Fabric
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweetie’s senses had been brought to a muted state, thrown away the moment she broke the surface. Her sight was blurred at the edges, and her hearing was dulled to little more than murky, indistinguishable noises. Her nostrils exhumed bubbles with every breath she took. With her arms wrapped around her tucked legs, all she could feel was herself, and even that sensation was only half present. Her fur was standing on end, at the water’s mercy.

Having sunk so far into the deep end that she could sit down, she couldn’t see much of the water’s surface above her, beyond a few light ripples the refracted light of the moon, which was the only thing serving to illuminate her alabaster coat. With the brightness of her fur contrasting greatly with her dark lavender bikini, along with the natural blurriness of her vision, it looked as though she were glowing.

She felt that way too. Her heartbeat was slow, calm like the rippling water that surrounded her. It was cold, at least in definition, but it felt like the second most warm thing she could think of. The first place winner in that contest was elsewhere at the moment, but he’d be back, and the anticipation for his return was the only thing that could cause her heartbeat to quicken. 

But she knew that the sensation of a pounding chest would soon be replaced with an even greater comfort when he’d take her in his arms and… She stopped thinking ahead when she was forced to grind her legs together. She couldn’t take it.

Even with all of her years of yoga and meditation contributing to her steady breath and several minutes of uninterrupted peace beneath the surface of the water, she came to a realization that she had to eventually come back up for air. She decided that now was as good a time as any. She untucked her legs, spread her arms out, and swam her way upward.

Everything returned to her when she broke the surface. Crisp, clear vision, hearing only hindered by some stray drops of water in her ears, her nostrils filling with the scent of hayburgers.

She pinpointed the scent quickly, as she could not resist any kind of hayburger with such a sharp odor. Spike was standing by the grill, flipping four thick hay patties with two spatulas. He was quick and stylish, catching one of the patties between both spatulas, tossing it into the air, and landing it on the grill exactly where it was when he picked it up. 

“Tada!” he cheered, turning around and showing off Silver Spoon’s frilly apron. Even funnier than that was the message displayed across the front.

Bitches love a big cook!

Sweetie laughed out loud, only being interrupted when a ripple of water ended up in her mouth. She spat it out, wiped her lips, and swam to the pool stairs. She stumbled on the way out, slipping on a puddle and falling on her knee.

“You okay?” Spike asked. He turned to Sweetie, catching an airborne patty behind his back and flipping it back onto the grill.

“Just peachy!” Sweetie hopped right back onto her hooves and rubbed her knee. She gestured to the grill and said, “Silver Spoon is not gonna be happy about that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that half a bag of hayburgers will put a severe dent in her severely limited budget.” Spike pointed his right-hand spatula at the large pool, then swung around and pointed at the large windows that decorated the house, and then held his arms out to emphasize the house in its entirety. “Talk about roughing it! I hope she can pay the rent this month!”

“Okay, Spikey-Wikey, slow down before you hurt yourself.” Sweetie tucked her arms beneath Spike’s shoulders and hooked him, pulling him back against her. She kissed his cheek, softly at first, but when she did it a second time, it was long and close, leading into her nipping at his dorsal fin. “You make me laugh.”

“Well, I try to.” Spike flashed a grin and kissed Sweetie’s cheek. “Who couldn’t resist making you laugh? That voice of yours is a national treasure.” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying his hips a little bit as he pulled her close and nuzzled under her horn. “Probably helps I’m just a naturally funny guy.”

“Oh yeah, says the boy wearing a ‘big cook’ apron.” Sweetie giggled, shaking her head and looking down at it. “Never figured pink was your color, but it looks pretty good on ya.”

“Oooh, how about the next time we go traveling, I break out my pink trench coat?”

Sweetie held her cheeks, as if she were blushing. “Oh, baby...”

“Some bright magenta cowboy boots, a lavender scarf…”

“Mmm, you are on fire right now.” Sweetie smirked, raising her eyebrow at him. As in if he keeps going, the mere idea of all these neon colors is gonna make him combust.

“Yeeeah?”

“No, seriously, get your elbow off the grill before you catch on fire.”

Spike’s smile shifted to a frown as he turned his head around, realizing that Sweetie’s advances had pinned him against the grill, with his left arm leaning against it. He hadn’t even noticed the heat. “Oh.” He removed his arm and waved it around. “Don’t worry about it. Worst thing that can come out of that is an uneven coat of scales.”

Sweetie pouted. She took ahold of Spike’s arm and kissed it where the burn was visible. “Aw, you know I like you smooth. Almost as much as you like me tubby.”

Spike gently tapped Sweetie on the muzzle with his pointer claw. “Doll, the word is ‘bootylicious’. We’ve been over this. And speaking of which…” He twirled the same claw in a circle. “Give Master Spike a twirl.”

“Ooooh, we’re doing that play tonight?” Sweetie did as Spike asked, flourishing her arms out as she spun on her hooves. She stopped with her back facing the lusty-eyed dragon, who nearly leaned against the grill again as he stood still, utterly bewitched.

“Niiiice,” he said with a sinister grin. “My girl knows how to flaunt it.”

Sweetie crossed her arms, tilting her head towards Spike and batting her eyes. “You flatter me, Master.” She embraced herself, sliding her hands along her upper arms and gripping her shoulders. She hummed to herself as her fingers slowly and delicately slipped beneath the straps of her bikini top.

She stopped when Spike held up his hand. “Master Spike is a patient one. Besides, we wouldn’t want to spoil our post-dinner snackage, would we?”

Sweetie huffed, returning to a significantly less sexy standing position. She folded her arms across her chest and showed Spike a smile. “And since when do you show restraint, Master?” She pressed her finger to her chin. “Unless you’re just building yourself up, straddling the microscopic line that separates you from the utter machine, no, wait… monster, that I usually find between the sheets every other night.”

Spike nodded his head from side to side. After a moment of quiet pondering, as well as a few more flips of the hay burgers, he blew out a small burst of fire. It wasn’t his usual green fire either; it was an intense red that made Sweetie jump.

“Oh my,” she gasped.

“Yeah, you’re right. Restraint isn’t exactly the word for it.” Spike pointed the spatula at Sweetie. He knew in advance that she’d start to wear the face of a villainess, and as much as he liked that face, this was neither the time nor the place. “Don’t poke the dragon, doll. The dragon will poke you back.”

“Is that a promise?” Sweetie said with a coo, before quickly adding, “Master?”

“Perhaps. Until we get our eat on, you just stand there and look beautiful.”

Sweetie flashed in him a grin before reaching up and flicking out her hair, winking. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just don’t get distracted, Master.”

Spike pouted at her, sighing as a thin stream of green fire spewed from his nostrils. “I did say beautiful, not ‘walking aphrodisiac’...”

“Thin lines, Master.” Sweetie placed her hands on her hips and looked over at the barbeque, taking in a whiff of the tasty burgers charring away as she shifted her weight to her hoof, swaying her hips just enough to catch a glimpse from Spike as he tried to cook. “Thin, oh-so-thin lines.”

Thin like those bikini straps... He gave her a little smirk and did his best to focus on the burgers, giving one of them a flip to check the other side. With a nod, he slipped the spatula under it and flipped it up into the air, taking in a quick breath before belching out a blast of fire, giving the flying patty a very nice sear before it landed back on the utensil in his hand. “Perfect! Alright, uh, lessee...” Straight off the spatula, or with a nice pair of white buns...? He deadpanned a bit at his thought, a very obvious thought speeding through his head that just forced his brow down lower. Yeah, that’s about right...

As the thought rolled through Spike’s head, Sweetie made her way over to her love, looking over his body. Her eyes turned down to his rear end and tail as she put on her best catwalk, smiling lightly as she watched his hips and ass flex with his shifting of weight. His tail brushed against her leg as she went up behind him.

“You’ll be skipping out on the ketchup, as per usual?” Spike asked. He removed Sweetie’s patties from the grill. His arm was a little shaky, but not enough to ruin dinner. He dropped the patties onto the buns.

“Never really was a fan of ketchup.” Sweetie’s hand brushed dangerously low over Spike’s back. Using that same hand, she picked up the bottle of mayonnaise. “This stuff, however…” The bottle was just a hair’s width away from her lips, which brushed against the tip as she spoke in her low, sultry tone. “Mmm, so tasty.”

“Ain’t it?” Spike asked. His voice was almost as shaky as his arm, but he couldn’t hide it as well. “I don’t mind a little mayo now and again.” 

Don’t goad her! It’s a trap, his subconscious screamed.

I like traps, Spike thought back.

Dammit, this is not the time to think of Pipsqueak!

You know what I meant, me. And I’m not gonna keep Sweetie waiting that long. This is our anniversary. There’s a difference between a sadist and a dickhead.

And which one is she?

She is not in control here. Just wait and watch. We’ve done this before…

Fine... gotta stop arguing with myself.

Good idea, me.

“Oh, Masteeeer?” Sweetie pleaded. She held the bottle of mayonnaise up to Spike, with her buns and patties in her other hand. “Would you, please?”

Spike took a deep breath, very nearly roasting Sweetie’s dinner in the process. He took the mayonnaise in his hand, shook it vigorously, stopped when he saw Sweetie’s gaze, and decorated her bun with the white sauce.

“Mmm, thank you, Master.” Sweetie put her finger to the tip of the bottle, scooped up a glob of mayonnaise, and licked it off her finger. The innuendo was sealed with an unquestionable moan. “So good.”

Oh, sweet sauce, how I wish you were that of another bottle. Spike set up his own dinner, turning away to hide his blush. Why does red have to stand out against purple so well? Wish I had orange scales sometimes... He chanced a look over his shoulder as he started doling out some ketchup onto his own burger. Sweetie was strolling away with her hips in full sway, tail swishing in time to keep her butt in full view of the drake. His fangs grinded together, just short of nails on a chalkboard behind his lips, as he watched her head over to a chair.

She kept her eyes on her food, twirling around and sitting down daintily before kicking up her legs, stretching them out and crossing them as she dug into her food. Spike’s eye twitched at the show as his claw clenched down, the sound of something going ‘splort’ hitting his cheek.

“Are you well, Master?” Sweetie asked, as if she were expecting something like this to happen. “You’re not finished... with your burger already, are you?”

Spike leaned over the condiment table. He took a napkin to his cheek and rapidly wiped the ketchup off, then put the cap back on the bottle. As he wiped up the mess, he made passing glances over at Sweetie. He noticed that she kept deliberately looking away from him every time he spotted her. “No, no… I’m just getting started.”

“Well, do enjoy yourself!”

Spike’s claws dug into the wood of the table. He took a deep breath, once again letting out a blast of heat. He couldn’t control himself any longer. He scratched the back of his head in a moment of strained concentration, trying to convince himself of a lot of lies. He wasn’t burning up. He wasn’t about to start steaming from his pores. He wasn’t hard as a diamond. But no matter how long he tried to deny it, he was, he was, and he was. The apron did little to hide the last fact.

Having made his decision, he left his patty on the condiment table, turned around, took off the apron, and addressed Sweetie Belle with his hands clasped together. “Oh, darling?” he said in a clear and calm voice.

“Yes, Master?” Sweetie asked, once again seeming unaware of the damage she had done.

“Could you come here, please?” Spike placed his hands behind his back, looking as calm as a summer’s breeze with his eyes closed. He pinched his other hand hard to keep his focus sharp, and Sweetie got to her hooves, leaving the plate on the chair behind her. Spike’s ears picked up every hoofstep from his lover as she came up to him, the mare frowning a little in feigned confusion.

“Something you need, Master?”

Spike opened an eye, looking at the mare right in front of him, then to the pool. He looked back to her, quickly nodding and sliding over to her left, putting Sweetie between himself and the pool. “Mmmm, yeah. I could use something.”

Sweetie barely got a look at the pool before Spike launched forward, grabbed her and tossed them both into the pool, crashing through the surface in a cannonball of intertwined limbs, bare fur and naked scales. Sweetie would have cried out, but the grip of the water kept her from doing that. Instead, she smiled at her Spike, whose fangs were bared, and his eyes were narrow. Swarms of bubbles rose from his lips before he kissed Sweetie hard.

Sweetie would have gasped, again, if she weren’t underwater. She was entrapped by Spike. From how nice his tongue felt against her own, her heart fluttering with her chest pressed against his, and her body completely seized in his embrace, she couldn’t argue either. Her ears splayed back and her eyes closed, wrapping a leg around Spike’s back and returning the kiss as best she could.

Spike could barely hold himself under the water with Sweetie wrapped around him, looking over her soft cheeks, blazing blush, and her glorious mane drifting in the water. It would’ve put a smile on his face if he wasn’t busy making out with her, both of them working in sync to trade breaths and prolong the kiss as far as possible. Eventually, though, he felt Sweetie tense, and quickly kicked off the bottom of the pool.

The water broke easily as Sweetie passed the surface and broke the kiss, gasping deeply and savoring the cool air racing into her lungs. “S-Spike, too long!” Her next breath was stolen by another deep kiss. Her eyes looked over Spike’s red face, half-lidding as he moved them over to the edge of the pool. Spike grabbed the ledge of the pool with an arm and pulled himself and Sweetie up onto it, rolling her over onto the ground and pressing his hand against her shoulder to hold her down.

“Okay... Master thinks our food should wait until after this.” A dangerous snarl escaped him as he grinned. “You poked the dragon quite a bit tonight.”

Sweetie was shivering from her submissive position. She just looked up at him, and with an apologetic smile, she shrugged. “...Oops?”

“‘Oops’ isn’t the word.” Spike smirked and leaned down to her, giving her snout a lick. “Now, how about you help me with this problem of mine before I rip your bikini off? I don’t care if I bought it for you, I’ll do it.”

Sweetie sighed, giving him a half-lidded look. The moonlight glinted in her eyes and off her soaked coat and mane, giving her a glow that made Spike take pause as she drew a finger down his arm. “Well, when you say it like that...” She grinned, giggling lightly. “Long as you replace it, Master. Roll over and take a seat, and I’ll help douse the fire.”

Spike smiled and did as Sweetie asked. She yelped as she got yanked along for the ride and plopped onto his body. His hands barely got down to her hips before Sweetie dove in for a kiss, driving her tongue into his mouth as she rolled in his grasp, her hairs standing on end as she felt his claws drag against her skin as he moved up to her top. 

Too impatient to deal with hooks, Spike did as he promised. He snagged the center of Sweetie’s bikini top between his teeth, and with another snarl, he clenched down and pulled. For a moment of tension, the fabric resisted his pull, but the whole top eventually tore off, starting at Sweetie’s back and coming off of her chest. Her now unheld breasts burst forth.

“Woah…” Sweetie went through a whole range of emotions in just a few seconds. She was a little scared and surprised, but at the same time, she knew her pounding heart wasn’t because of either of those things. She had taken in Spike’s sexually driven anger before… Anger wasn’t quite the right word for it, though. This was unadulterated lust born from love, and the only reason he did this was because he cared. He just happened to care a bit more than the average lover.

That was why Sweetie was unapologetic to herself when she let Spike’s claws rip through the sides of her bottoms, which she was a little thankful for, for as much as she liked them, they were starting to chafe on her hips. She made a mental note to ask Spike for larger ones when he reimbursed her, then turned her attention to his swim trunks.

As sexy as Spike was, rocking a set of fire-patterned shorts, Sweetie felt he would look a tad bit sexier if his dragon cock was exposed to her. As such, she lit up her horn, and clasped the strings with her light green aura. She undid the knot as quickly as she could. With her rising anticipating, it might as well have been a nine digit safe combination. By channeling a little of Spike’s aggression, however, she was able to loosen the shorts. While she graced Spike’s cheeks with her palms and kissed him, fully tasting his hot saliva, she willed her aura to tug the shorts down. With a kick from their wearer, they flew off, landing in the water alongside a torn bikini set.

Steam rose from Spike’s mouth as he pulled away from Sweetie’s mouth. His lips curled into a besmirched grin as he admired the natural beauty of the mare on top of him. Every bit of fluff contributed to an alluringly curvy figure he hoped to never find on another mare. It was a body for her and her alone.

For a moment of sheepishness, Sweetie crossed her arms beneath her breasts, giving them pronunciation as they stuck out towards Spike. “You always ogle me when you see the goods, Master. Are you really that sappy, or are you just trying to embarrass me?”

Spike tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t damage the roleplay. He loved seeing Sweetie’s naked body more than any other, and he was absolutely sure that wouldn’t change. He had his answer: “Some gemstones never go dull,” he said with confidence.

Sweetie stifled a gasp as she was stricken with a blush. She cupped her cheeks for a second, then placed her hands on Spike’s chest. She was playing roulette with who or what she should be touching, as her heart was sent soaring again. She admitted defeat, placing her hands on the back of her head and flaunting her chest. “Oh... Fluff it all, I’m yours,” she said with closed eyes and a breathy voice. “Take me now, Master...”

“Mmm, your master loves it when you make him work for it.” Spike moved his waist upwards, just barely touching the fringe of Sweetie’s lower lips. His cock brushed off of them, his shaft gliding along the curvature of her rump. 

Sweetie shivered and gasped at the touch of his instrument, eager for it to make her sing. She wiggled her rump until she had Spike’s cock against her entrance again, and leaned into him to ensure he wouldn’t get away from her. 

Spike counted himself lucky that his legs were in the shallow end of the pool, allowing him leverage. He planted his feet and grounded his claws into the pool tiles. He didn’t intend on holding back with his thrusts, and he started to live up to that promise right then. With his cock just ready to breach Sweetie, he pushed upwards.

There was the familiar sensation. So much heat from so many sources. His length penetrating her, her insides welcoming him, his body so ready, her heart so full… It was pure heat. Spike couldn’t have done anything better.

“Oh, Spike!” she squealed. She scrunched her muzzle when she realized that she had broken character. “Sorry. Master.”

Spike stroked a lock of Sweetie’s curly mane before placing his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. I think we should just focus on this.” He gently pulled her downward until his back was flat against the wooden panels, with Sweetie looming over him. She touched his chest, further taking in his heat. She hadn’t felt his body get this warm in a long time.

Much like the allure of a warm blanket after a long day, Sweetie couldn’t help pressing herself into him. Her areolas were alrighty stiff, sending another bit of stimulating through her brain and nethers when they rubbed against Spike’s chest. 

Her lips touched his beak, with a small peck that quickly morphed into a tender kiss. It was the oral equivalent of a death grip, as Sweetie was determined to keep their lips locked even as she felt the overwhelming sensation of a wet, throbbing dragon cock penetrating her. Repeatedly. Her insides were tailor made for his cock, being so used to having it within her.

She wanted to moan and scream for Spike, but more than that, she wanted to continue kissing him, and so she did. It was just as she had come to expect from him; she’d push forward with her tongue, and his more agile appendage would curl and wrap around hers, pushing back. 

His tongue would then slither into her mouth, taking in her flavor, as well as the traces of whatever hearty meals she had eaten that day. Spike could still taste the wine and chocolate syrup from their dinner, as well as the hayburger from their post-dinner. Sweetie was a dish in more ways than one.

After such a long kiss, Spike needed to breathe, as well as quite literally let off some steam. He pulled away from Sweetie, who moaned in discontentment. She continued to grind on Spike as he leaned his head back and exhaled. Steam exhumed from his mouth, nostrils and scales all at the same time.

“Ooooh… T-That was a big one,” Sweetie commented.

Spike nodded and wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, and I think they might be getting bigger.”

Sweetie stopped her grinding and sat up straight on Spike. “Well, summer is coming up. You do tend to get a little heated during that time period.” She pursed her lips. “Think it has something to do with a mating cycle?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right…” Spike let out another plume of steam from his mouth. “Don’t worry, though. You know our DNA is incompatible.”

“Who said I was worried, baby? It wouldn’t matter anyway. I’m not in heat.” Sweetie paused as she tried to remember the date. “...Yeah, not for a few weeks, anyway.”

Spike pointed to himself. “If I know anything about the mating cycle of a dragon, and last I checked, I am one, then I’ll be like this for a while, and if it overlaps with your heat…”

Sweetie wiggled her hips as she said plainly. “We’re gonna have a lot of sex. Lots and lots and lots of sex.”

“Hm,” Spike grunted as a smile crossed his beak. “So…” 

There was a moment of hesitation, and then he shot up. Before Sweetie could voice her surprise, he grabbed her shoulder tightly, then steered her towards the deck. She landed on her back first with a high-pitched yelp and a bout of laughter.

Spike’s gaze was as intense as his fanged grin. He captured Sweetie with his eyes, if only for a moment, and said to her, “Count.”

Sweetie tilted her head. “Wh—” 

Spike thrusted into her, interrupting her question and making her squeak. She could feel the intent behind Spike’s assault on her nethers, the way he loomed over her and unapologetically ravished her with affection and passion; for the rest of this session, she wasn’t just his mare. She was his plaything. And she was entirely okay with that.

Spike, for all of his gentledrake mannerisms and amazing qualities as a lover, was still a beast, by all accounts. Not just a beast in the bedroom, but a literal beast.

As she held her arms closely to Spike’s body, letting the steadily rising steam of his scales moisten her fur, she was reminded of why she was okay with being his plaything for this evening, as well as many other evenings to come. Spike was intimidating, and potentially volatile, but Sweetie knew that he could never hurt her. Bite her, scratch her maybe, but that was all part of playtime.

Sweetie had her first orgasm in under a minute, and Spike showed no signs of stopping. In fact, it seemed that he was just getting started.





A rather spicy hour and thirteen minutes later...





“AH! OH, SPIKE!!”

The young dragon’s response to Sweetie’s scream of pleasure was to snarl and bite into the flesh where her neck and shoulder met, and in doing so just fuel the flames of yet another impending orgasm. 

Hearing her cry his name several times over only made him grow closer to his end as well. But that wasn’t the only stimulator. He greatly enjoyed getting an eyeful of Sweetie’s naked, sweaty, blushing body, and the satisfaction of groping her meaty breasts, squeezing them to the point of the skin consuming his claws, was unlike any other. 

The greatest satisfaction of all, though, came from feeling Sweetie’s insides shudder yet again. It was just one of many times in the past year, and far from the last, and yet it was still just as satisfying as the first time, and just as provocative to Spike’s libido.

“Spike, Spike, Spike, oh please…” Sweetie begged as she rose from the deck to get close to him yet again. Even an inch away from Spike was too far for her, it seemed. So Spike clasped his arm underneath her, clutching her tight as he lowered her to the deck once again. She remained steady in his grasp, though not entirely still, as she was left thrashing from his strong thrusts. “I… I… I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum. Gonna fucking…”

Spike shut her up with another kiss. Her announcements devolved into unintelligible moaning, her arms squeezing Spike tighter, her legs twitching erratically. Yet another shudder of her nethers was more than enough to push Spike right past his point of no return. 

Lining up almost perfectly with Sweetie’s climax, Spike’s cock twitched, trembled, and shot off. He could feel his spunk filling more than enough of her insides, quickly overflowing and coating his cock, draining out of Sweetie’s lower lips and dripping onto the deck. And that was just the first wave.

As the second wave hit, further filling Sweetie up, Spike broke his kiss with her to let out a triumphant growl. Finally being able to blow his load after so much thrusting, so much buildup and anticipation, with the added bonus of it being their anniversary, he was unafraid to call it one of the best orgasms of his life.

Spike and Sweetie remained where they were as they let their climaxes come to a long close. When all of their heavy breaths were spent and the puddle of cum beneath Sweetie’s vulva had reached its maximum, they finally drew enough strength to move, albeit very slowly.

“F...Fifteen…” Sweetie gasped. 

“...We can do better…” Spike growled.

Ignorant to how much they reeked of sweat and musk and every other scent that came with such unapologetic lust, Spike and Sweetie sat up and faced each other eye to eye. Two pairs of green eyes content with just staring into each other, just to assure themselves that this was real, and the past year hadn’t just been an elongated fantasy. And even if it was, they wouldn’t dare wake up.

Having seen enough of their eyes, they closed them and leaned in, their foreheads colliding softly, Spike’s beak just barely brushing against Sweetie’s muzzle.

“I love you,” Sweetie whispered, a slight squeak disrupting the otherwise perfect timing of her words.

Spike felt that saying it back wouldn’t be nearly enough. He slightly opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, noticing that his back was facing the water’s edge. That’s when he got an amazing idea.

Spike cupped Sweetie’s hands in his, and let himself fall. Sweetie opened her eyes, momentarily alarmed when she realized she was about to be dragged into the pool, but she calmed down quickly and held her breath. She collided with Spike’s chest as they broke the water’s surface and fell into its embrace, as well as one of their own.