Twilight Sparkle

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The most epic, familiar ballad sings through cafe speakers, making an overpriced black coffee the most perfect fuel to kickstart an anxious day. You sip the scalding, over engineered brew and review a weathered black notebook. 9 o’clock, get coffee. You sip from the paper cup, enjoying the morning Ponyville sun and move on, ahead of schedule. At nine thirty, chew some minty gum and freshen up. Ten is the press conference outside the new Palace of Friendship, where her highness herself will address Ponyville and the world about what will come of the Tirek incident. His feeble, skeletal form fleshing out, aging in reverse as he stole your magic still haunts your memory.

You sip down some black lava and move on. Noon, the princess scheduled a lunch break. At two, she agreed a private talk just for you, just for an hour. You tap your feet and try to conquer your anxiety. She’s still Twilight Sparkle, you tell yourself. It had been four years. Were four long years enough to bury the pain? She was so special, it hurt more than any pain you had known when she left. But, of course, she had her reasons. And, of course, there were other women. None, no, no woman could ever replace the beautiful prodigy known as Twilight Sparkle.

A throaty sigh escapes your expressionless lips. You fix your tie and look over your discussion notes. Officially, the College of Canterlot wanted some insight on the unprecedented power of Twilight Sparkle’s magic. Unofficially, the second most senior researcher of destruction magic, previously an alteration major, wanted to learn how big of a toll the magic and Tirek had done on the princess.

Celestia, she’s a princess! This was going to be a long morning.

* * *

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” the violet-haired goddess among women announced over a crowd of thousands. She looked apprehensive at first, biting her lip and scanning the crowd. Even with an early appearance, it was almost entirely standing room only below the crystal balcony. You bite your own lip, amazed at how much yet how little she had changed. Her dress was simple, blue and beautiful. The tree-shaped palace was brilliant in the morning sun. The clear cut angles of crystal were astounding, incredible. Only magic could have sculpted such intricate, yet such natural and asymetric shapes. “I’m sure you all have many questions, which I will try to answer after my short speech. That speech, I hope, will answer most of them before they are asked.

“To start, the great tragedy that befell our nation by Tirek’s evil is over: that vanished with his re-imprisonment. His hold on Discord, as I and my friends have decided after his actions during the battle, prove his dangerousness. Still, after committing such an egregious crime as treason, Discord is officially back on probation, as he was after flooding, then freezing, most of Sweet Apple Acres.

“Secondly, the restoration of the Golden Oaks library inside the new Palace of Ponyville is underway. Public access is limited to tourism; you can look, but you can’t touch. Priceless, rare, out of print, and even unique, one-of-a-kind books were destroyed, and the specimens that were not are currently being restored. The library will be open within a month with hard work, I hope. Please, bear with us during this trying time.”

The address went on for some time, mostly about the condition of Ponyville, Equestria, and the world. Nearly no talk of the battle was had, just references in her other major points. At last, questions were allowed. Almost everyone raised their hands high, including you.

“There, in the white dress,” the Princess announced. A gold-armored man swooped in and held a microphone to a blonde woman’s mouth.

“What about Scorpan? Is he in custody, or still at large?” she asked, her nasally voice rushing Twilight for an answer.

“Well,” the beautiful princess began to answer. “I’ve only heard of him. Tirek is being questioned in Tartarus for now, so I can only hope he will-”

“What about Cerberus?” a male, only a few shoulders away from you asks with much throat. “What’s to keep him on guard?”

“What about the rest of Equestria?”

“How can we trust the princesses after letting such an evil creature do so much damage?”

“Can we get a peek at your rainbow powers again?”

Dozens of questions were fired at the stressed princess, swiftly blocked by her rainbow-haired friend. “Enough!” she shouted into the microphone, silencing every person. Her wild mane was styled rather professionally into a neat bun; it did not fit very well at all. Her slender frame was tied up in a Wonderbolts dress suit and pants, merely one ribbon on her left breast. “Twilight was answering the one about Cerberus, and no other question! Let the lady talk. Princess,” she resigned, bowing and stepping to the side. It was hardly formal.

Twilight plucked the microphone from the stand and thanked “Rainbow Dash”. She cleared her throat and continued. “Cerberus is still on guard, as is a squadron from the Royal Palace, not to diminish the effectiveness of the guard there. My close friend Fluttershy herself is there at the moment, training him.” Rainbow Dash leaned in for a moment. Twilight’s face grew just a shade red, visible from only the first few rows. “I mean, training her. Next question,” she said punctually, finally choosing you. “In the red tie. What is it, sir?”

You wet your lips and feel adrenaline rush throughout your body, a million eyes weighing on you. Calmly, you bend to the microphone. “Princess,” you address, testing the volume. “What happened to you, during the battle, and have there been lasting changes?” People an arm’s length away and more nodded and hummed with agreeing noises.

Twilight looked down at herself, blushing, and smiling timidly. “Something rather amazing, more amazing than anything I’ve ever experienced. As many of you know, Tirek had the ability to absorb power from others. He was absolutely evil, and affected all of Equestria, except at least four people: the other princesses, and me. The others, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and my sister-in-law Princess Cadance all gave to me their own power. And with it, I managed to stalemate Tirek. He, however, held my friends, even Discord, hostage. I gave up that immense power for my friends, and they helped me triumph. Together, we utilized our harmony and vanquished him, restoring Equestria to its former glory. The only permanent change, beyond the scarring of the landscape and the emotional casualties experienced by those affected, was my home. If Tirek destroyed your home, please, send me a letter. Personally. Address it to this castle. Contact your mayor. Tell your neighbors. Equestria will survive through harmony, and always will, as long as we persevere!”

The crowd cheered, deafeningly, shouting and clapping and hollering and whistling and crying. Tirek was unlike Discord in one facet: where chaos was sewn to disrupt harmony, violence and hate drew itself as an enemy of harmony. The people from here on out, you know inside, will not be torn by pettiness as a nation. Equestria was stronger than ever, in its roots.

“Thank you, sir,” the princess addressed, looking right into your eyes, her lavender oceans still perfect to drown in. “But, to answer your question a little more thoroughly, I was transformed by both the Princess’ magic and the Tree’s. After the battle, however, I was still the same old Twilight Sparkle. No huge rainbow hair, no extra-powerful, mountain shattering magic, nothing. Although I should be glad: that hair would be expensive to maintain.”

The crowd remained silent, save a few coughs. The princess blushed again, oblivious to Rainbow Dash rolling her eyes.

“Next question, please.” The standing crowd exceeded the interview time by well over an hour, the princess tiring only after answering a tabloid’s question about the next Grand Galloping Gala. She declined respectfully, directing the columnist to another of her circle for that answer.

Twilight pulled a stray lock behind her ear and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Ponyville and Equestria for your questions. I hope that I answered enough for today. Our future, as it always was, is in our own hands. So go out, help your neighbors rebuild, and let us renew our spirit of harmony. I have seen what disharmony can bring. I have seen strangers hate one another, friends grin at others' misfortune, and family disown each other. I despise disharmony. The future will look back on this age and admire us for our efforts, our triumphs will be carved deep in stone for our children to see. In this age we must sow the seeds of greatness by striving for it ourselves with hard, good work. Goodbye, everyone.” She curtsied gracefully and turned away from the cheering crowd. She waved warmly before shutting the door. It was difficult to see, but you think she made eye contact as she disappeared into her castle.

The crowd cheered for a solid minute, finally ushered out by the guardsmen. You leave early and rush to the appointed meetingplace. The mid-summer sun reached its peak and commenced its descent, warming Ponyville and Equestria further as the afternoon began.

The guards at the comparatively small castle’s doors greet you with a smile and allow you entry, hand cannons securely holstered. Security in Equestria was like a rollercoaster. After the Tirek incident, it seemed officers needed artillery.

Once inside, you tell a cute young woman your name and she invites you into the foyer with a friendly smile. The girl shows you around the common areas, and although her mint-green ponytail is inviting, you merely nod and smile with her. You see the foyer, an impressive entryway with staircases flanking the central area leading higher up into the tree. You are led first to a small waiting room with chairs and an adjacent restroom. She offers refreshments in the next room, but you decline. At the end of the short tour, you take your seat in an impossibly comfortable crystal chair. How a rock could be so nice to sit in is a mystery. You skim your notes again, a low, steady level of adrenaline making your heart dance. The time is one-thirty when none other than Princess Twilight Sparkle arrives in the crystal doorway.

She smiles and bows mildly, prompted by your own. There is no fanfare or announcement. You stand tall and fix your tie again. “Good afternoon, Tyler,” she says, smiling wide. Her fancy dress was gone, replaced by a long skirt and, of course, an argyle sweatervest with a white blouse underneath, the cuffs rolled up halfway her forearms. She had to wear the sweatervest. “It’s been so long,” she said, struggling to keep blood out of her face and in the rest of her body. Your face feels warm as well.

You gulp, taken back by her sheer beauty. Her long hair was absolutely gorgeous, let down, yet still pampered for the morning address. The way her straight bangs were styled, magnificently framing her flawless face was a wonder in itself. “Afternoon, Princess,” you reply as humbly as possible. “How, um, you’ve done… well.”

Twilight smiled, brushing her bangs back over her ear. She was a murderer. “I try,” she said in her familiar shy rasp. “Thank you. I’ve received a lot of praise, and you know how I deal with that.”

“With humility and poise?” you reply, biting your tongue. Being a smartass is the last thing that needs doing. You decide to let the comment hang, hoping to change the subject to the interview, or to her, or to the relationship you, the two of you, let dwindle.

Twilight blushes harder. She looks at you and sighs a reply. “You’re not helping.”

She giggles, and you laugh back. The exchange was awkward, but the silence that came with eye contact was welcome. It was almost like only a week or so had passed, not four long years. You take a step closer, and she perks up, her body seems less lithe than it did in college. Her thin frame has filled out with appetizing touches; her hips seem wider, her thighs fuller, even her breasts seem heavier.

Suddenly, within an arm’s reach, you catch yourself and look up. Her deep lavender eyes flick up to meet yours. You smile with her again, laughing shortly with just a breath. You can smell her and her breath, sweet and fresh. You cannot hold back a beaming smile. On an impulse you grab her hand, the two of you jolt at the spark of touch. It’s Twilight who moves in for a deep embrace. She wraps her arms around your shoulders and pulls her body against yours. You bury your face in the long, wavy hair behind her and breathe deeply, hugging her body tight. You feel her moan and breathe, unable to squeeze her closer. Twilight’s cheek flattens your ear, her breasts are against your chest.

You release the gorgeous princess and hold her close, staring into her eyes. “I’ve missed you, Twilight,” you quietly say into her lips, just out of reach. She smiles softly, moving to speak, but subsides. Twilight sighs and touches your face with her hand, her thumb feeling the no longer close shave on your chin.

She is beyond intoxicating. Twilight’s short breath steals yours. Minutes pass, nearly kissing. At last, she returns to her role as Twilight Sparkle, the try-hard awkward genius. “Come on, then,” she quietly starts, her voice cracking. “You have some things you want to ask, don’t you? Let’s go to the library atrium and we can talk all we want.”

Just thinking about a warm, sunny spot to be with the most beautiful girl in Equestria, inside and out, makes your heart flicker.

You follow her, wishing she would lead by her soft, delicate hands with amateurishly-painted pink nails. Four flights of stairs and a few hallways later, all cathederally decorated with stained glass and sharp, strong arches and angles, reveals a round library inside a hexagonal chamber. The grand library is below, encircled by balconies of concentric balconies, narrowing with each level, five total, the highest with a gap in the center no wider than a dozen feet. Blue crystal and yellow tapestries contrast to cast an exceptionally academic air about the large room. People and guards mill about below the top ring you are led across, carrying things from boxes to ladders to posters to chairs to books. You keep most of your attention on the beauty ahead, all five and a half feet of her.

Atop a half staircase between two oaken bookshelves is a modest, stout door of dense wood. Twilight holds her forefinger and thumb out in an L shape, and with a drop of her pointer, pink magic sparks out and unlocks the door’s old-fashioned-seeming skeleton key lock. A click opens the door on silent hinges. “I think you’ll like this,” Twilight says, holding the door open to a reader’s heaven: perfectly lit and symmetrical, the vaulted tower-ette is lit all along the outer wall by tall windows with new, heavy curtains drawn back. A set of four comfortable chairs circles a small wooden table. “It’s by far my favorite room in the entire tree. It’s nice and warm, being so near the apex of the structure, but a vent above lets air circulate, so it’s never stuffy. The light couldn’t be more perfect, and it’s natural! The best kind of light. I’ve considered dragging up a loveseat up here so I can recline, but that’s definitely on the back burner.”

You sit in a chair and embrace the room with a smile. It’s cozy, with quite a view: Ponyville stretches from one side of the bay window to the other, bordered by a looming forest on one end and rolling hills on the other, covered with a more inviting apple tree orchard.

“The view is incredible,” you say, looking back at the princess as she closes the door.

When she turns around, her cheeks are rosy again. “I think so, too,” she says, smiling at you in your seat. She joins you, looking out over the growing town. “I’ve missed you, too, Tyler,” Twilight says, moving her hand to yours.

You cover her hand with your other, grasping softly yet firmly. You impulsively move forward and peck her cheek, breathing deeply as you pull away, your heart pounding its way up and out of your chest.

She touches her cheek with her free hand and blushes deep crimson, lips spreading as she smiles. "I know I probably hurt you when I left," she says, looking away. "It was hard for me, too. Thank Celestia I had so much work to do to keep my mind busy. Literally." She scoffed and shook her head, looking away. "Tell me, what was it like for those four years?"

"Hard," you copy, wincing at using her words. "I only had freshman year to keep me occupied. I, I'm not proud of how I coped with losing you to the Princess. I don't blame you, Twilight. I never did, I knew a great-um, I knew what you had ahead of you and got attached anyway. I signed on for it, but I followed you, didn't I?" You look down at her hand in yours. "I drank, a lot. I worked, I studied, I earned the scholarship I was given and now I'm close to getting my master's. Some nights early on I thought life was meaningless. But, thank Celestia, literally, I heard how you beat Discord, the Changelings, even saved the Crystal Empire. If one pretty girl from college could do that with the help of friends, I could get a stupid degree. With the help of friends, of course.

"Twilight, I was down and out without you, and I don't admit that to everyone. I was, I was bad, very... very bad. Skies were black and food was bland without you. I missed class and almost-"

She stopped you with a kiss, and those trembling memories went behind the door where they belonged. Not locked away forever, but at least out of sight for a little while.

Twilight broke the kiss for another, holding your head gently in both hands. She broke away and panted softly into your lips, her forehead resting on yours. She sniffled and sat up.

Twilight took a deep breath and looked over Ponyville. "Time is a funny thing," she whispered through wet sinuses. She sniffed and grinned as you touched her lower back. You scoot your chair close and hold her gently from the side. "I found spells to travel through time, you know. Just once, and it didn't change anything, not really. Funny story, actually."

You kiss her cheek again and hold her hand, listening and absently looking over the town.

"I wanted to see you again," she said, with a shudder and a smile. Mascara began to smear down past her eye liner. Makeup fit Twilight like the bun fit her friend and bodyguard: well, yet poorly at the same time. "I learned, however, that traveling back in time doesn't change anything. You'll just set in motion a series of events that have already happened."

"I think I understand," you reply gently, studying her hands now. “If you did use that magic to come and see me, things would not have been different, right?”

"Tyler," she sighed, smiling as she buried her face in your shoulder. "I never realized how much I missed you."

You want to agree, but can't, not truthfully.

You hold her for a few minutes, letting tears fall onto your suit jacket and unable to shed any yourself. Anger, resent, regret, lust, hate and more, all held for this wonderful woman for years, are drowned by a few minutes of love. Not washed away, not yet, but cooled by the flood.

Finally, the choking lump in your throat grows small enough to swallow. When you do, you find something to say. You take one last breath of her fantastic hair and speak. "I've got to take something back to Canterlot, Twilight."

She nods and wipes her eyes, smiling up at you. She kisses your lips and sniffs again. You offer a clean handkerchief. The princess, Celestia, she was a princess, takes it and looks embarrassed to return it. You take it back with a smile, and wipe her smeared cheeks with a clean corner. She thanks you, smiling, her dimples melting your heart more.

"So," she says with a sigh, touching your arm. "What does Doctor Tyler want to know?"

You roll your eyes and shift the chair to face her. You pull your notepad out and open to a page with a simple title: "Twilight Sparkle". Listed are all the questions you plan to ask.

You take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out through your mouth. Twilight's legs cross, she laughs when you catch her eyes. You do, too. "Princess," you begin, smiling wide. "Alteration and destruction are two of the most occupied schools of magic. Destruction attacks and alterational shields were seen during the battle, of course. Magical power you wielded against Tirek had nearly no recorded precedent. To defeat Discord, the tried and true harmony rainbow was seen, and the blast that departed the Changeling queen was an enhanced version of your brother Prince Shining Armor's shield spell. When you took our Princesses' power and added it to your own, did you experience physical changes? Right away, within hours, as you used it? Anything from height or weight or pain or changes to your features or senses?"

Twilight smiled warmly as she recalled. "Since I was bestowed the title and power as Princess, I've grown three inches in height, as well as other dimensions you won't write down. When I absorbed the others' powers, though, all I got was charred fingertips and a nasty migraine. It went away after a few hours, but needless to say that was the least of my worries at the time. During the fight, adrenaline was flowing so much all I felt was... honestly, fear, anger, more anger, and fear. My life, the lives of my friends was at stake. Is, is that good enough?"

"I'm sure Doctor Alcove would like to hear about you sprouting wings and a tail and growing a third eye, but this will do." You jot down in sloppy shorthand her major points, making sure to mark a "Dimnsns" in the margin with a little hourglass above. "We'll come back to the growing part, your tallness."

Twilight sputtered and stomped her foot. "Tyler!" You laugh with her and at her red face.

You flip back and read the next question. "Have you used any of the spells seen prior to the battle, excluding the raising of the sun? I hypothesised, and bet a decent amount of pride and a tiny amount of money, that you had not."

The princess, visibly slouching, tapped her foot and looked up as she thought. "No. Well, I suppose the whole 'rainbow magic' was new. But, that was some freaky harmony stuff. The blasts, those were never that powerful, and the barriers were strong enough to withstand me being blasted through solid granite. That was new. Think you won?"

You jot down what she had said. "Maybe, it depends how Alcove interprets my interpretation. Anyway, not writing this down," you say, slapping the leather book shut. "What are your measurements?" You ask, looking her over openly. "I definitely noticed your chest looked larger."

Twilight's face grew from her beautiful natural glowing olive tone to a deep, sweet cherry red. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, looking down at her body with an insecure smile. "U-um," she breathed deeply and touched where her bra bridged her beautiful breasts. "Thirty-three, twenty, thirty-six, dress size six, cup," she bit her lip. "This bra is, um, I think thirty-three C, but it's not, uh," she paused, smiling girlishly. "I wanted to look good for you."

"You could wear a sweatshirt and cargo pants and I'd still want to take pictures, Twilight. But you do look absolutely gorgeous." Was that the word? Cuddleable? Cute, sexy, smart, someplace that combines all that with stunningly beautiful, surely.

Twilight rolled her eyes, but she was still sweetly red. "Tyler," she laughs, smiling from ear to ear. "Come on, easy with the praise."

You lean forward and look into her eyes. She leans back, but relaxes, some of that red lightening to a rosy pink. "I'll tone it down," you say, sighing and looking her over. "Thirty-three twenty thirty-six, though. Holy shit."

"Stop!" Twilight laughs. You look at her slender legs and grin, flipping your notebook open.

"Back to the doctorate stuff. Have there, or were there, side effects, temporary or lasting?"

"Aside from unending questions about it?" Twilight paused and bit her finger. "I was exhausted mentally and physically, not to mention sweaty. My head ached for days after all that magic."

"Headache. Next, when did the alteration spell from the tree chest wear off, the one with the glowy hair that gave me my magic back? Did your hair shrink back to normal, or did it sort of shed?" You look up and baulk. "No, really, what happened?"

Twilight Sparkle sighed and looks into your eyes, her purple making your neglected heart race. "My friends and I split up and went where the magic took us for hours, but we didn't restore any magic. We merely showed Equestria they had it back. Regardless, the wave spread about as fast as we did, and it only took four or five hours. When I saw my hair go from yellow, pink, blue, whatever back to my normal lavender, I was back in Ponyville, in front of the new castle and my friends were back to normal. Also it, blinked away suddenly. It was strange, but when the magic wore off, so did its manifestation. So, if you know a thing or two about alteration magic, it makes sense well enough. As much as magic does when it comes to harmony."

"I should have brought a microphone," you mumble as you struggle to keep your notes fast and legible enough. "Okay, finally, are you free tonight for dinner? Maybe, around seven?" Twilight flushed the instant she registered the question.

She turned her head and smiled, bobbing her foot up and down. Her rosy cheeks darkened again. "As long as it isn't fancy," she said with a wink. "Rarity spent two flipping hours on my hair this morning, and I refuse to do it again."

"...do it, again. Got it. So, Twi," you begin, flipping your pen around. "Where do you wanna go?"

* * *

At thirty seconds until seven, you knock on the Castle’s door. Still guarded by one sentry, he looks straight ahead with a stone glare. His eyes followed you on the steps, but that was all. Twilight was expecting you, of course. Still, creepy.

In no time, the heavy oak door is pulled back to reveal a brand new princess. Twilight Sparkle, casting a shadow from the great chandelier in the foyer, illuminated with a smile as bright as day. Her perfectly white teeth stand out until she takes a step back, holding her arm out gesturing you to enter. “Tyler!” she says brightly. “Come on in.”

“Twilight, you look amazing,” you reply walking in, admiring her openly. She shuts the door and hugs you close, careful not to fuss up her hair. She steps away and stands, shyly. You cannot keep your eyes up. Her body, so much more voluptuous and fit from years ago, was wrapped in a tight, pale blue shirt that covered her perky breasts down to her curvy hips. Her modesty was kept with slim fitting capri pants, black. It matched her too well: casual, sexy, smart, and cute.

She does it again, pulls her hair behind her ear. “Thanks. Is that the same suit from earlier?” she asks, touching her hand to the sleeve, opening her stance a little. Her bare shoulders are asking for a firm rub.

You let her take your arm. “No, this one is my best three piece. I know you said nothing fancy, but if I want to look as good as you, I’ve got to pick up the slack somewhere.”

That got a giggle.

“Okay, flatterer. Now is the time for some good news, and bad. Bad news first. You have to meet my friends.”

The news is sudden, and you’re not sure how to react, or how she wants you to react. “What’s the good news?”

Twilight kisses your cheek. “They’re going to love you. Come on, Ty. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go. I’m hungry.”

“Where are we going for dinner?” you ask, walking through the same room you met Twilight in, following up a set of stairs.

Twilight smiles and hugs your arm closer, escorting you. “A neat little place on the eastern side of town, away from the busy shopping district. It’s called Mikal’s, a Germane place. Do you like beer?” she asked, hand on the door to the “throne” room.

“Love it,” you reply, sneaking a kiss from her shiny lips. You realize there was just a touch of lipstick on them, shading her pink lips magenta.

The door opened suddenly, the knob ripped from her hand with the same pink painted nails.

“WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!” a harsh woman with the bubbliest pink curls challenged. She pressed her accusing finger into your chest, her bright blue eyes scouring you for any incriminating detail.

You stand and reply: “College of Canterlot, I grade papers and tutor when I’m not working on my post-grad.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THE PRINCESS?!”

“Pinkie.”

“Went to the school for gifted magicians together just before college.”

“FAVORITE COLOR?!”

“Purple, then green.”

“SHOE SIZE?!”

“Thirteen.”

“Wow, kinda jealous, Twi,” Pinkie, her name was, said with a wink. “You’re lucky, Ty! You passed the patented Pinkie Pie Perfect Partner P-, um, pa, uh… test. Darn, I thought I had a ‘P’ word for test.”

“Probing?” another girl asked from across the room. You couldn’t tell if it was the blond frowning, leaning on her throne anointed with apples, or the rainbow-haired girl, nose-deep in a book, hanging upside down in her chair.

“Good one, Dashie! Oh well. Hi! Great to meet you!”

“Likewise, Pinkie,” you reply, shaking her hand heartily. She pulls you into the room and steps to the side, as if showing you off, on stage, to a crowd of auctioneers. Four other girls besides Twilight and Pinkie Pie occupy the room. The girl with the rainbow hair read beside another, blonde standing sternly, leaning on the same throne with her arms crossed under her breasts. Two thrones, one with a magical star, then three apples, were between those two girls and another woman. She sits, in her own throne adorned with three narrow diamonds, with her legs crossed and sitting upright, her expression warmer but no less calculating than the blonde. The next throne is facing away, and from behind it sheepishly spies the last woman. Her hair is bright pink, but that is all she lets you see.

Your eyes return to the reader. “Dashie, is it?”

The girl with the rainbow hair looked up, or down, from her book, as she was sitting inverted in her chair, legs in the air. Her ponytail fell down to touch the floor as she stared daggers at you. “Not to you. Name’s Rainbow Dash, and only she can call me that,” she said, gesturing to Twilight. “Got it?”

You nod.

“Good. Now,” she started, then flipped backwards upright onto her feet. “Let’s start off on the right foot. Nice to meet you, Tyler,” Rainbow said, walking to you. She’s a few inches shorter than Pinkie Pie, whom is nearly your height, and quite a lot less busty.

“Likewise, Rainbow,” you reply. “You were looking pretty sharp, being Twilight’s personal bodyguard.”

She cocked her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Some girl’s gotta swat the flies off Twilight. So, Twilight tells me you’re an egghead, too.”

“Maybe someday. I’m a postgrad student up at the university we both went to as freshmen, I double majored in illusion and destruction. Twilight looks like she tackled all five schools and founded a sixth. I just hope that-”

“You don’t bore me to death?” Rainbow cut in. “Sorry, but a lot of that magic stuff just flies over my head.” You bite the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t even gone into any spells or even theory! Was it that hard to hear about magic? “Anyway, my girl Twilight’s gotta have a guy that can handle himself. You work out, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you reply honestly.

“You’re not just a machine mom, are you? Tell me you at least do some free weights.”

You cross your arms and hope your suit looks a little tighter. Since freshman year at the C of C, you’ve been introduced to the gym with a close friend and classmate. The basics were pretty simple, and since, life has improved. Beyond better sleep and more energy, you’ve been satisfied with your body in it’s prime. “My best friend was kicked out of the royal guard for a skin condition, but he was a fitness coordinator for a time. He got me on protein years ago.”

“Flex,” she ordered. Pinkie and Twilight and the other girls all looked closely at Rainbow squeeze your bicep in her first finger and thumb. She smiled and nodded at Twilight. “Works for me. Treat her gentle, champ.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Twilight gives you a little side hug and you see her look at the girls pleadingly. “Come on, he’s strong, smart, handsome, and real. Can we go, now?”

“Of course not!” The woman with violet hair answered. Twilight groaned, but honestly, the attention was a little nice. She rose to her feet and gracefully fixed her playful purple skirt. “Tyler has a keen eye for beauty in you, Twilight, but I need to know if he’s truly right for you. You said you were a college student?” she asked redundantly, closing the gap on her modest red heels.

You agree with a nod, pulling your free hand out of your pocket.

“What are your means, darling?”

“I tutor, for the most part. I do odd jobs and help out with seasonal work like shovelling snow and raking leaves and mowing the campus lawns. Keeps college money circulating internally, keeps students fed. But, once I’ve got my doctorate, I plan to apply what I’m studying to the energy industry. With alteration magic, there’s millions of untapped ways to power Equestria and I plan to find them.”

She nods absently, and you realize she has been studying your shoes far more than your words. Twilight grips your arm and your eyes meet. She has a proud look, and you can’t help but smile. The urge to kiss her is monumental. “Hmm yes, sounds like you have quite an interesting path,” Twilight’s friend replies. “Now, do you shine these yourself? They are in quite good condition.”

“Yes, most of the time. I had my ex-guard buddy give them the spit shine this time, though.”

“And this suit isn’t the same one from earlier, is it, Tyler?” Twilight asks, stroking the fabric.

“No, no this is my going out suit. You saw my business one.”

“I’d agree,” the purple-haired girl agreed. “Istallion-style, especially the shoulders. Naturally slim fitting, very alluring. The tie is a diagonal knot, no?”

“Oui,” you reply, glad she noticed the extra touch. “Not many people know anything beyond the half-windsor or pratt.”

“Please,” she began, studying your suit closely. “Tie knots are male fashion 101. I wonder if I can nail down just who designed this three piece. Canterlot, canterlot, Istallion, silk tie-” she snapped her fingers. “Threadcount! Oh, he’s such a genius when it comes to suiting up men. It’s one of his, is it not?”

“Oui it is,” you say in disbelief. “Okay, now I’m impressed, miss…”

“What, did I miss something?” she blurts rather unladylike.

“You didn’t introduce yourself,” Twilight whispered behind a hand. That made the woman nearly jump out of her skirt and blush red.

“Oh my stars! I do apologize, I am Rarity. It is wonderful, just wonderful to meet you at last, Tyler.”

“Thank you, Rarity, that really means leaps and bounds, coming from such a beautiful woman.” You look down at Twilight, only to get another view of her rolled eyes. You wink at her, getting to see her rosy cheeks again.

“Is that everyone?” you ask, ready to leave.

Twilight lets you arm go and begins walking toward the last girl. “Almost. Fluttershy,” she says, standing near the girl behind the chair. “Fluttershy, do you want to meet him, too?”

She pokes her head out, then hides again. You hear her say something but it’s too quiet. Twilight lowers her voice, and you hope she’s being gentle and not secretive. Something she says sticks, because the girl behind the chair comes out. Her sweater shows she’s gifted, maybe even more so than Pinkie.

“U-um, hello,” she meekly says, hiding behind her hair. “P-please be nice to Twilight. If something were to happen to her, I, I don’t think that would be nice.” Her voice is so soft, it’s hard to make out.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” Twilight says, holding her hand. “He’s really sweet. I promise. You’ve seen how he behaves under stress.” She had a tone of resentment in her voice, obviously annoyed her friends were being so critical.

Fluttershy pulls her hair back and looks into your eyes with hers, teal. They’re soft, but something about them demands obedience, and not just from pity.

“Okay, girls. We’re going to dinner, now. We’re leaving, we are egressing,” Twilight continued on, stepping towards the door, taking you with her, almost like a hostage. “We’re going, we’re going…”

“Wait just a tic,” the blonde girl said lowly and seriously. You and Twilight stop, and the other girls, smiling, traverse deeper into the castle with a tone of importance. You think you see Pinkie gesture with both hands above her head, like showing how big a fish she caught was, hands wider than her shoulders.

Twilight sighs and leans back on her own feet, her grip on your hand tightening. “AJ, we talked about this.”

“I know,” she said, her southern drawl bordering on caricatural. “But I remember you talkin’ about this snake a few years back at RD’s birthday party. What’s ta say you ain’t gonna up and leave Twilight here with a broken heart again?”

“AJ,” Twilight began. “I left him, we talked-”

“I know what we talked about, and he can speak for himself. Answer the question, squirt.”

You take a breath and look over the blonde girl, AJ, and look to Twilight. “I’m not a student anymore, not entirely. I’m a grown man. I was stuck in Canterlot devoted to work there, but now that I’m pursuing my own, I’ve got freedom. I’m free to choose to pursue what makes me happy. Twilight Sparkle makes me happy, happier than I’ve ever been. I like to think I’m pretty smart, but I can’t think of one reason to screw that up. Can you?”

AJ looked nearly hurt, but she smiled anyway. Twilight squeezed your hand tighter than ever. A few seconds passed, the strong, curvy girl in a tight plaid shirt studying your face. You do your best not to smirk or smile or show any emotion.

At last, she looks down and nods. “Alright, then. Tyler,” she says, gripping your shoulder painfully hard, barely reaching up to do so. “I know ways to make you hurt and I’ve got kin who can do it better than me. And if you even think of hurting our Twilight, I’m gonna learn you every single one.”

What was there to say to that? You grab AJ’s hand on your shoulder and grip it firmly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

AJ turned away quickly. “Good,” she said over her shoulder, standing still for just a second. “Good.”

With that, she left.

Twilight groaned deep the second the door shut behind her friend's tight denim. “Finally. Sorry. Applejack gets a little protective sometimes, especially during cider season. Come on, let’s go before Rarity decides to dye your hair a new color.”

* * *

"I like it," you tell Twilight as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thatch roof is a nice touch."

"Yeah," Twilight replies and steps out of her car and drops her keys in a small purse. "Mikal's is one of my favorite places to eat in Equestria. The food is so good, and they've won all sorts of awards for having the best beer."

You hold the door for her, and gladly notice her perfume again. “I think I’ll like it here just fine, Twi.”

Following close behind, you smile at the hostess, a somehow familiar girl. Was it the hair? “Two tonight?”

“Yes, miss,” Twilight answers, looking back at you with the cutest grin. You take her hand and smile back.

The hostess, who can’t be much out of high school, turns and beckons you with leather menus. “Right this way.” She seats you at a booth in a quiet corner of the restaurant. “This month we have domestics, of course, and Clop Top IPA on tap, and the beer list is on the last page of the menu. If you know what you’d like to drink, I’ll bring that right out for you.”

“IPA, please,” you reply without even looking at the menu.

Twilight seems to think on the matter, but declines for water. “IPA and water, coming right out. Berry will be with you shortly, she’s your waitress tonight. Enjoy your night!”

“Thanks,” the two of you reply.

Taking Twilights hand, you ignore the homely, foreign and festive decor for a more pleasing sight. You kiss her fingers gently and stare back into her eyes. “Twilight, how did I get so lucky?”

She smiles and rests her head on her other hand, leaning forward. “I’m no good with rhetorical questions, Tyler. As much as I want to make googly eyes with you, and believe me I do, why don’t we talk about something? Like, what kind of research you’re doing?”

You fix your slouch and look around the restaurant. “Well, for starters, I chose my majors and wrote about changing matter from one useless form and into a useful one, and that’s not new. The first alteration spells were exactly that: desperate survivors trying to relight burnt, wet wood in a cave. They transmuted the water’s oxygen into carbon and managed to light the log again, and they lived to tell the tale over a thousand years ago.

“Or so the story goes. So, it’s a mystery as to why the same technique, the same principle isn’t being applied to power plants and central heating.”

“Uh-huh,” Twilight replied, leaning forward some.

“So, I did my thesis on that, and basically hypothesised on the potential fuels that could be used in the effluent for my destruction major. I kept running into the same problem. What to do with the smoke, and how to capture it. I skirted the issue for the paper and got a ninety-seven for it, but I knew that was a real problem to tackle later.”

“Which you are?” Twilight asked, slipping out of her small black leather jacket.

You nod, watching her shoulders, bare, glow in the dim lamplight. “I was stuck on different filters and fan arrangements, but then I realized: why bother? Why not instead of taking burnt fuel like petroleum, and start experimenting with stuff batteries? Or even nuclear fuels?”

Twilight’s eyes, her beautiful purple eyes, widened at the thought. You continue, smiling despite yourself. “Batteries were tough. Anything to alter just the electromagnetic properties or nuclear properties and not both is tough.”

“I’ve never even tried.”

“There’s almost no reason to. Simply rejuvenating the soot of a coal plant could yield some recycling efficiency, but separating charges of a battery? Fusing heavy elements for fission, or fissioning lighter elements for-” You are interrupted by the lovely sound of glass landing gently on wooden tabletop. You lean back and see a lovely sight.

“Clop Top for the sir,” a much smoother female voice than before says. “And water for the miss. My name is Berry, I’ll be your server tonight. Have you two taken a look at our menu or would you like a minute?”

Twilight touches your hand reaching for the amber beer, the foamy head minimal and dissipating. “We haven’t even looked, sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Berry says, and you look up at her. Busty didn’t do the lady justice. “I’ll come by after a minute, take your time. Daily special is on the first page, Säsekase, my personal favorite.”

“Thanks, Berry,” Twilight says quickly, smiling. She was pretty to the point where it was distracting.

You grip her hand back and smile at your girlfriend. “Where were we?”

Twilight picks up her menu and opens it. “Right about the part where I’m actually pretty hungry. Let’s pick it up in just one teensy second, okay?”

A rumble reminds you of your hunger as well. “I forgot, sorry,” you laugh. “Get me talking about magic and I never want to stop.”

The first page of the simple menu shows appetizers, you think. The language is not Equestrian, that’s for sure. The descriptions are, thank Celestia. You glance over the fare, grateful for your student budget nothing is over thirty bits. “Kart of flen puffers. Space kaiser, sachair vom rind, or store fillet? They all look pretty good.”

Twilight giggles at your butchering. “Kartoffelpuffer, fancy mashed potatoes. Good, serving size is huge for me. If you’re hungry, that’s not a bad way to go.”

“I’ll defer to your expert opinion, Twi. What are you gonna get?” The way her hand pulls her hair behind her ear is adorable.

She hums, flips the page and reads on. Your mind buzzes with infuriatingly erotic and intimate ideas suddenly. Thoughts begin with massaging her bare shoulders. She doesn’t look up, hopefully not noticing. You let your mind wander as blood flows to the south pole. You stealthily aim your growing erection down your leg and undress Twilight with your eyes. Her blue top would be very sexy pulled up over her breasts to bunch up about her lickable collarbone. You use imagination to see through the table and undo her little purple belt and black bottom. The button and zipper open slowly, your hands cup Twilight’s tight, round, grown butt as they slip her pants down her squeeze-thirsty thighs. Your mouth waters as you toss her pants aside and kiss her legs. Slowly, you work up her hot skin to her-

“Tyler?” She asks, her foot gently brushes your calf.

You look up from her perfect, round breasts to her face, some blood rushing up to make yours red. “Hm?” you ask. “Miles away, Twi, sorry. See something you like?”

Twilight bites her tongue cutely and taps the side of her foot to your shin rhythmically. “Just a slice of hot beef.”

“Oh, the rind something?” you ask, looking over the front page again. “I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy, I might just change my mind-ow!”

Twilight giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Come on, Tyler. I thought I was bad at flirting.”

You laugh with her. “Wow. Sorry, Twi.” You try to will some blood to flow away from your face, but it won’t, and you can tell from the heat that you’re blushing more than her. The worst part: your hard-on begins to fade. “The fastest way into my heart is through my stomach, but the fastest way into my bed is through my pants.”

Twilight laughed again and bit her tongue, her eyes dropped. “Wow,” she said softly. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy from years ago.”

You cock your head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The sexy princess flipped her hair with a hand. “What do you mean ‘what’s that supposed to mean’? You’ve grown a lot. A big strong man, with all this initiative and interest in the arcane, sharp dresser, future doctor, gosh.”

“I’ve changed?” you retort. “Princess. I don’t even think I need to go on, but you know I will.” You look her over and growl. “It’s like you went through another puberty, Twilight. I know that sounds weird. But just look at you. Your breasts are much larger than I remember, your hips, too. And you’re taller. You know, Celestia’s well over six feet, and she’s hauling what- double H cups?”

“Oh I know,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes, her cheeks thoroughly rosy. “I’ve been close with her for years. She’s the one who made me a princess, after all.”

You nod, resting your hand on hers and rubbing her leg with yours. “You don’t like the flattering, I know that. Can I still do it, but keep it in a journal or something? I just want to write epics about how beautiful and smart and talented and generous you are, Twilight. I, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

Twilight does something magical. She lifts your calloused hand and touches the palm to her cheek. “Thank you, Tyler. You’re so wonderful, too, I- I don’t even know how to express it. Thank you, thank you so much. Really,” she says, kissing your hand again, eyes wet. “It means the world to hear you say that, because I know you mean it. You can get blunt when you mean something. Remember that time, back at your dorm? We ordered pizza for us and your roommate and his buddy. When it took the driver an hour to find the campus, you tore him a new one.”

“Oh, I remember,” you reply, holding Twilight’s hand tight. “Celestia, I was such an asshole to that guy.”

Twilight laughed, and you did too. “School was so easy back then,” she sighed.

You nod and look at her. “I like this better.”

The princess opposite you looks absolutely kissable. You lean in a little, and she does too. Your smile fades just a little as you look at her full lips. Were they that large back then? You see her blink slowly, tasting her breath now. You shut your eyes, and-

“Make up your mind, Princess?”

You roll back into the booth and look up, your tie suddenly uncomfortable. “Um, yes, Berry,” Twilight says, all but fanning herself off. “Kartoffelpuffer für meine Freunde und das Späsekase für mich.”

“Sehr gut, Prinsessen-”

“Berry, bitte,” Twilight interrupted, smiling wide. “Sagt mir Twilight, oder frauline, oder Frau! Freunde sollten nicht gegenseitig solche Namen nennen. Ich bestehe darauf, bitte.”

“Es tut mir Leid, Twilight,” your waitress said, a little red. “So, eins Kartoffel, und eins Späsekase. Super! Noch etwas, anything else?”

“Um, just lessons, please,” you reply fixing your tie.

Berry laughs as Twilight quickly rolls her eyes. “After hours, I charge by the hour. Cash only, bitte.” The mauve-haired, curvy woman winks, then apologizes instantly with her body language. She probably made great tips with her cleavage and open demeanor. “Another beer?”

You look down and realize you barely took one drink. “Oh, no no, I barely touched it. Thanks, though.”

Twilight smiles, it was so precious. “Sehr gut, next time you’ll see me, I’ll have food for you. Tschüs bis dann, you two.”

“Auf wiedersehen, danke,” Twilight warmly replies, sitting back, her hands crossed between her legs. She probably didn’t know her breasts pressed together when she did that. More to indulge for now.

Berry left, and you return to Twilight, who sighs. “That’s getting old, huh, Twi?” you ask, resting your foot on the bench next to Twilight’s leg.

She grabbed the toe and wiggles your foot back and forth. “Yep. And it’s been nearly two years! It’s not like people don’t know I’m a princess.”

“Well,” you reply, “maybe that’s why. ‘Oh, the most beautiful woman in all of Equestria is here, Princess Twilight, bust out the good china.’”

Twilight giggles, dismissively pushing your foot around. Her hand reaches around and grabs your calf. “I suppose. The recognition is fine, but I don’t like being seen like some sort of celebrity. I’m not royalty, or, I guess I sort of am, now. Sheesh, I never asked for this.” Twilight buries her head in the crook of her elbow on the table.

You stroke her hair gently. “I can help,” you say quietly, seriously. Twilight rolls her head and looks up at you, her face questioning. You just wink, and she smiles, biting her lip.

The beautiful princess sits up and looks into your eyes again, not saying anything. You just stare at each other for a moment or two, not saying anything. There was endless flirting to do. You want to talk about transmutation and alteration magic more, but there is no rush.

A minute or so of quiet passes comfortably. The din of the restaurant remains steady and low, a few clinking dishes and murmurs of dinner conversation of happy strangers do not detract from the view.

Finally, you remember your beer and take a break from Twilight’s eyes to drink. She leans forward and rests her head on her hand, smiling so contently. The IPA is fruity and bright, delicious and strong. You take another gulp and burp behind your fist. “Scuse me,” you say, sipping again. “Mmm, that’s good! Want a drink?”

Twilight shakes her head, rocking back and forth on her hand. “No, thank you,” she says softly. “I don’t like beer, never really have.”

“Right, you like vodka, don’t you?”

Twilight giggles and nods, rubbing her cheek on her palm. “Gosh, how can you remember that night?” she asks, looking up in recollection. “I’ve never been so drunk.”

“You were the life of the party, until you had to pay your respects to the porcelain goddess.”

The princess and former college student flips her hair and sits upright. “Ugh, enough about vodka. Never again.”

“Twi, it’s been years, have you really never drank since then?”

“Well,” she starts. “A few times for special occasions. With Pinkie Pie, Tuesday’s a special occasion, though. No, really, for two months straight, she would use my library to throw random ‘Tuesday Appreciation Celebrations’.”

“She’s a real firecracker, huh?” you ask, taking another drink, slowing down to appreciate the drink and company.

Twilight nods again, smiling wide. “You said it. Pinkie’s pretty intense. But, it makes me appreciate a quiet night out that much more.” Her hand, the paint on her nails beginning to come off, moves to rest on yours. You cover it with your other. Her lips look kissable when they relax from her laughing smile to one of lovestruck content.

“You said it.”

Food came in no time, the smell distracting you from addicting eyes. “Cheese soup for miz friendship,” Berry interrupted gently, placing a hot bowl of delicious looking brew where Twilight’s arms had been. “And Kartoffeln for the sir. Anything else, you two?” she asks as the understanding chaperone that wants you to score some points in the game of love.

Twilight shakes her head, and you say: “No, thank you, ma’am.”

Berry smiles brightly and leaves to restock the bar with unimportant things. You look at Twilight and follow her gaze to dinner. Suddenly, you realize you are hungry, and open your napkin as you look over your plate. The inset did not do the entree justice. Freshly mashed potatoes concealed a spicy, hearty wealth of beef and flaky pastry sodden with mouth-watering broth. The side of brussel sprouts was a surprisingly happy accident. You carefully dive in, making every effort to keep your freshly pressed suit spotless.

When you look up from your first bites, you see Twilight stirring her meal, a delicious looking piece of pumpernickel laying on the edge of the bowl. “There a fly in it or something, Twi?” you ask, cornering some carrot peelings between reddish beef chunks.

She laughs and looks at you, fork in mouth. “No, my food looks great. Yours must have, too.”

You chew and nod, careful to not talk with your mouth full. “Sorry. I’m used to hurried lunches, and I suppose I forgot how hungry I was. Seriously, though, this stuff is fantastic. You gotta teach me some Germane so I can get this if I ever hop the pond. But,” you pause to swallow. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Twilight smiled, showing white teeth. “I’m sorry, I just got a little distracted by my thoughts.”

“They worth a penny to you?” you ask, scooping up some potatoes with the pastry.

The princess finally lifts a spoonful of soup to her mouth and gently blows over it. “I was thinking about how much you’ve changed, Tyler.” She sipped and savored her food, seeming to genuinely like it. “Mmm. I mean grown. As a person.”

“Likewise,” you counter, trying to slow down. The food was just too good.

She brushed her hair back and ate a little more, making you feel a bit more comfortable. “I was also thinking about just how much you’ve stayed the same, too.” Twilight giggled and gave a wink. “Some things should never change.”

“No questions here, Twi.” You grin and hope she’s talking about what you think she is. A few bites later, you decide to change the subject. “What do you think about my ideas, Twi? Which sounds the most interesting?”

“Well,” Twilight says, swallows. “Which do you think would be the most satisfying?”

You nod, returning her smile. “Taking trash and turning it into useable stuff sounds great, too; broken computers and electronics into mercury and gold and silver, rusted auto bodies into useful steel, radioactive magic waste into perfectly potent gems.”

Twilight ate another bite and nodded, smiling. “You’d be doing the world a favor with that. Is it hard?”

You nod again, looking into Twilight’s painfully gorgeous eyes. “Extremely. It’s a long process, but to get the biggest yield, it takes a lot of effort. When I tried to get the biggest load ever, I was sweating and out of breath after hours of concentration.”

“Oooh, tell me about it. Was it worth it?”

You grin wide. “You bet. I got gallons of stuff. It’s hot, though,” you continue, taking a sip of beer. The girl across from you is resting her chin on her hand again, biting her lip. She must love magic. It was her thing, after all. “I wonder why. I suppose just entropy involved in transmutation.”

“Mmhmmm,” she replied slowly. “I want to see that, feel it too.”

“Mercury is poisonous,” you counter. “Well, to the bare skin. I suppose if you wore gloves or something. Anyway, that type of thing takes too much effort I was burnt out for over a day after that.”

Twilight giggled. She is infatuated, or at least you hope so. “What other things are on your plate, Tyler?”

You take another drink and lick the foam from your lip. “Well, rejuvenating burnt cellulose isn’t too hard, actually. If there was a way to teach that to amature alterationists, that could have widespread benefits.”

“I like that,” Twilight says with a pondering tone. “Wood that you can use more than once? I’m sure everyone would enjoy what they could do with that. I know I would, my bedroom got pretty cold during the winter. Just think. I could have a cozy bedroom for weeks with one thick, hard hunk and stay in bed.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” you say. “Home heating bills could disappear if we got people to revert to wood stoves. Offices and such, well, that’s a problem for a different engineer.”

She begins to touch your leg with her foot, her teeth biting her tongue. "Celestia, that's fascinating. You mentioned reactivating spent fuel, too, right?" Twilight asked, stirring her soup some, then taking a spoonful. “So you’re saying you’re able to increase things’ endurances?”

“Sure,” you reply, thinking. Never a dull question from Twilight Sparkle. “Recharging batteries, lead acid or lithium or whichever could be invaluable. Just think about space travel. Or submarine travel. That, combined with the aforementioned rejuvenation to restore nutrients to lab-light grown food could mean indefinite stays in a confined environment.”

Twilight visibly reacts. “Mmm,” she softly moans, distracting you from your meal. “And you’d always have energy,” she quietly agrees. “Fascinating. You know, I have actually studied some spells on that subject.”

You sip your beer and realize there’s just a gulp left. You finish that off and belch quietly. “Oh really?” You ask, intrigued. “We need to spend some time and discuss that in depth.”

Twilight nods. “I agree completely, Tyler,” she concurred, rubbing her foot along your leg again. “It may get long, and hard, but together, we’ll work out the kinks and the result will be satisfying.”

“One can only hope,” you reply quietly, leaning in a little further.

A check appears at the edge of the table during the time you undress Twilight with your eyes again. Some time passes with near silence, Twilight looking over you appraisingly, you eyeing her with high hopes.

Twilight finally picks up the receipt, but you stop her hand with yours. “Twilight,” you begin to protest. “I got it-”

“You’ve got student loans and mountains of other stresses. Let me help you out in both pages,” she replies, factually and intimately. You don’t feel ashamed at all: Twilight truly understands.

You subside, your reactive hand clasping more lovingly and gently. Twilight’s skin is soft as silk and pleasantly warm to the touch. “Of course, Twilight. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Twilight giggles and pecks your cheek. “It’s the least I could do. You traveled all that way, and all. Do you have a hotel?” she asks, slapping the faux leather receipt book shut.

“I do, there’s a budget place on 6th avenue, right by the park.”

Twilight’s reaction again is visible. “No, no no,” she says shaking your head, clasping her hands around yours. “That’s the only bad part of town, I swear. Come on. There’s plenty of room in the castle. We’ll stay there tonight. It will be a million times better than that dump.”

You sit up and smile. Twilight needed another kiss. “Thanks! Wow, thank you so much, Twi.”

“After all,” she says, her eyes wandering. “You have been drinking. We can’t have you driving to that cop-infested area. I insist.”

“Alright!” you concede with overemphasis. “I’ll obey her royal cuteness.”

Twilight stomped her fists on the table, her face going red. Her smile betrayed her fury. “Tyler!” she hissed, poorly holding back laughter. “I swear! I know you know how I feel about the princess thing!”

You grab both her balled fists in your hands and firmly hold them down. “I know you know you’re a princess, and forgive me if I think highly of you for earning such a magnificent title befitting an intelligent, selfless, caring, virtuous woman. I mean every word, too, especially woman.”

Her rage turned into passion and embarrassment, a fascinating mixture. You consider for the first time that her heart is beating faster than yours. “Tyler,” she begins, but her voice is weak, serious. The princess of blushing pulls her top up, her eyes dropping to anything but your face. She looks up at last. “Do you real feel like that?” she asked softly, seriously.

You lean forward and peck her cheek. “I do.”

Twilight bit her lip and moaned softly, staring at your eyes. “Tyler,” she whispered, her beautiful purple eyes shimmering like oceans in the gentle light. “Tyler,” she repeats beaming. Twilight sniffs and wipes her eyes on a napkin, smearing her makeup some. You spring to help her; any excuse to touch her must be taken. She leans into the mild touch and blinks away the final tear. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me later, Twi.” You sit and hold her hand for a long time, a dozen minutes. It seems to pass in an instant, but eventually even the romantic, emotional moment is ruined by an anatomical certainty. “Come on, Twi.” You pick up your fork. “Let’s dig in at least a little while the food is warm. We can kiss and make up for lost time all we want tonight.”

“Will,” she corrects, smiling and picks up her spoon. “Let’s.”

You watch the princess taste her food and follow suit. You eat for a few minutes with zeal, cleaning your entire plate. Twilight is nearly finished when she subsides, leaving a few spoonfuls, hardly enough to take home. “Ready to go?” you ask, wanting deeply to take her.

She nods, and leaves her napkin on the table. “I can’t wait to get back to the castle,” she says, then rolls her eyes. “Gosh, that phrase still sounds so wrong. I don’t want to live at a castle, I want to live in a humble home just like everyone else.”

“Your home is a library, forgive me for failing to see that as humble.” You tap your foot against her leg. “Come on, Twilight. You have to realize you’re a princess sooner or later. Do you think less of the other princesses for living in a castle?”

Twilight shook her head.

“Then why would anyone else? So you’ve chosen to live out your role as the princess of friendship. You’re still Twi to me.”

She smiled and hid her face. “Tyler, you know me too well.”

You hold her hand and wave at Berry when she makes eye contact. You make a checkmark in the air, and she smiles and gives a thumbs up, heading to your table to pick it up. You kiss Twilight’s face before she turns around. Before your lips part, Berry is back to pick up the bill. Twilight blushes hard and fishes in her purse. You wink at the waitress who rolls her eyes and smiles. “How was the food, you two?” she asks.

“Wonderful,” Twilight replies, returning the smile as she brandishes a checkbook like a conductor’s baton. “I’m definitely a fan of the soup.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be right back,” she says, taking the receipt book and Twilight’s card.

You kiss Twilight’s lips the moment Berry leaves, eager to bury your tongue in her mouth, but resist the urge. “Oh, Twi,” you reply, looking into her eyes.

“Tyler,” she trails off, her beautiful, gorgeous, mesmerizing purple eyes holding yours captive. “You are too good.”

“You make me so horny it hurts,” you reply.

Her face becomes red instantly, her eyes going wide as the plates Berry just took away. “Tyler,” she says.

“S-sorry,” you reply, moving back. “It sort of just came o-” Twilight silences you with a kiss, her lips meet yours and her tongue slips between your lips. You moan and meet her, licking her tongue, only to have it retreat back into her retreating mouth.

Berry is back. “Here’s your check, lovebirds. Be safe tonight,” she says, mostly to the princess. Twilight largely ignores her.

Your renewed love signs the receipt and hastily returns her card to her checkbook. “Come on, my little lovebird. The princess needs you back at the castle.”

* * *

“Oooh! Oh! Here’s her car!”

“She’s coming back right on time!”

“I hope Twi dropped him’off, first.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Look! He’s here!”

“Oh, that suit! Still sexy, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did, so keep it to yerself.”

“I like his suit.”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Ohmygosh! They’re talking at the door!”

“My, they seem friendly.”

“Where’s that boy puttin’ his stinkin’ hands?”

“Oh my…”

“Sheesh, use a little more tongue, why don’tcha?”

“Oh baby, I think Twilight might get lucky tonight.”

“I just hope his suit gets hung up properly instead of thrown aside like some cheap rag.”

“I just hope that boy uses a rubber.”

“I really hope he’s gentle.”

“I hope he’s hung.”

“Dash?”

“Rainbow, dear, his shoes were huge, even for his height..”

“Seriously, you girls can’t think bout nothin’ but his pecker?

“Honestly…”

“Nope.”

“Nope-eree!”

“AJ, you saw his shoes, right?”

“I saw ‘em!”

“Oh my…”

“She’s getting so laid tonight.”

“Wow, looks like he’s a good kisser.”

* * *

"You sure we're alone?"

"Tyler, for the third time, of course!" Twilight opens the door to the annex and throws you inside, laughing as the door closes behind her. "Come on, doctor, I need a check up."

You smile and make her come over with a finger. She brings her face to yours with her hands moaning and inhaling sharply. Your lips touch, her taste is delicious. Your hands slide down her back to her jacket and move up to her shoulders. You push Twilight back by her shoulders and slip the leather off, her hot skin feels fantastic on your fingers. She moans softly as your fingers slip under her soft, tight shirt.

"Mmm, Tyler," she whispers, her neck and shoulders drooping. Her signature bangs hung to the side as she breathed heavily, your hands making her large chest heave. "Tyler, it's been so fucking long. Touch me," she whispered. "I want you all over me, Tyler!" Her little voice was intense and thick with desire. You cup her warm, soft breasts. They're heavier than last time, and maybe firmer as well. You kiss her neck and suck while your big hands make Twilight moan louder. Her shirt lifts over the silk of your shirt's forearms, and you look down from her warm neck to Twilight's black lacy bra. You are pushed back suddenly.

"This needs to come off now," Twilight hums playfully and pushes the button of your jacket through the hole, then slides her hands up your chest and the jacket falls to the floor. You stop her from taking your tie off and slide her shirt up over her head, smiling as she giggles. Her little shirt falls as she rushes forward for a kiss. Her arms wrap around your neck, yours around her torso, fingers instantly unclasping her bra. She yelps into your lips, but doesn't pull away. She hums and pulls her bare breasts to your chest and squeals as you squeeze her, feeling them squish. She finally breaks away, soft lips leaving yours. Twilight looks up and smiles devilishly. She bites her lip and slowly she slides down to rest on her knees, kissing your white undershirt. She grabs your butt and works on your belt buckle with either hand, you loosen your tie and take that off. Your core flexes as her fingers touch the muscles of your groin.

"Oooh," Twilight cooes, biting her lip. "I forgot how ticklish you were right, -here!"

You grunt and double over, reflexively holding Twilight's head to your lap. She screams and hugs your hips tight, trying to tickle with her cheek and succeeding in merely rubbing her face in your lower lap.

Twilight giggles and kisses your pubic muscles. She undoes your pants and drops them. She's biting her lip as she goes cross-eyed staring at the bulge aimed down your left leg. The topless princess pulls down your waistband, your erect penis stands up tall, the flared head bobbing at first with long arcs from rebounding, then jolting up and down with your heartbeat. Twilight's eyes pop wide open, her jaw drops with a great smile. She beams and touches the bulging cum-pipe along the underside so gently. "Look at that," she whispers. "I think it's bigger than I remember..."

Twilight trails off, inspecting your cock with her eyes and fingers, gently lifting and touching your forcefully throbbing organ. You unbutton your shirt and drop it aside. You let your white undershirt fall to the floor, too. Twilight catches your eyes and kisses the bell end, instantly melting in a closed-eye grin. She dives into the pleasure of your dick in her lips, kissing along the shaft, humming and holding your hair-free testicles. Both her hands stroke and hold your throbbing cock, loving and refamiliaraizing themselves with it. Twilight looks up often with those generous, gorgeous eyes of hers. You smile back down at her and groan as her lips wrap around a few inches of your thick cock. Twilight shuts her eyes and sucks hard, pulling back. You look to the ceiling and moan, the tingling, sharp sensations of pleasure rocking you. “Twilight,” you groan, looking back down.

“I can’t believe how much I missed this,” she says lightly, giggling, then goes back to rolling her tongue along the outside. For such a pretty, innocent looking girl, Twilight was unashamed to use her talents behind closed doors.

Twilight looks up and takes your cockhead into her mouth, cupping one of her large breasts. She moans and takes four inches or so into her hot mouth, sucking, the softness of her tongue pressing forcefully into the underside of your dick. She pulls her head back, her hair, still somewhat styled, falls around her face messily. She tosses her head around, your dick still in her mouth, and winks up as she goes down for another mouthful of hard dick. You rest your hand on her head, making her smile girlishly. She shows off her tongue, then goes down, sucking wetly, slurping up all her drool without an ounce of shame. Twilight goes down as far as she can, encouraged by your hand. She gags, but your head still presses into her throat. You hear her swallow, your dick slides down further, but the sharp angle your erection takes makes it uncomfortable.

Twilight pushes off and gags and coughs, both hands stroking your cock. She catches her breath and rushes forward to kiss the base and rub the spitty shaft with both hands and her cheek. “Oh fuck yes,” she groans. “I’m so wet, Tyler. What do you want me to do to you? Want to cum? I’ll swallow all of it, I swear.”

“You’re so eager, Twi,” you reply low and slow, gripping her head by her hair and thrusting your cock, stroking the bulging underside along her nose. Her eyes cross and stare at the rod on her face, then up at your eyes.

She smiles, kissing your dick and pressing it into her face with her hands. “I’ve never been this horny,” she admits, a little more calm. “I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just been a while.”

You pull your hips back and let Twilight suck you off more. “Maybe. Could be anything from my cock on your face to a lack of sex.”

“Both,” Twilight agrees quickly and hugs your body closer, nuzzling her face into your lap.

You pull her head back forcefully by her hair, getting a surprised squeak. “Let me do you, Twilight.” She begins to smile and move for you, but you pull her up to her feet quickly and pluck her up in your arms by her hot thighs. Twilight groans and wraps her legs tightly around your waist as you bury your face in her neck and walk her to the table. You drop her down round ass first onto the smooth reading table and get down on your knees, quickly kissing down her hot body. Twilight coos something like praise and lays back, spreading her legs. You unbutton her pants and pull them off.

Twilight throws her head back, her big breasts lifting into the air as she arches her back. She is wearing light lavender silk panties, wet around a cameltoe. You kiss the hem, feeling the smoothness of her waxed pubis. You pull her panties aside and moan, her labia is soaked. You hold her thigh in one hand, thumb squeezing her, pulling her lips apart. “Tyler,” she sighs, short of breath. It takes restraint to not dive in tongue first. You kiss the hot, damp skin on either side of her vagina, not a single hair is there. She was expecting this. You lick along the hot lines of her skin as it folds and bends around her muscles and curves. Her legs are impossibly hot and her thighs are so well shaped and toned, her ass is prominent, even laying right on it. You drape either leg over your shoulders and hover your lips over hers, breathing deeply, tasting her pussy without placing your tongue on her. A long missed taste, Twilight’s flavor hasn’t changed.

You touch your tongue to her lower, outer labia, nothing more than a glance, but Twilight grabs your short hair anyway. “Ah!” she moans, her heels digging into your back. You smile wide and lick around her puffy, pink labia. You stare up at Twilight’s body and kiss her lips, causing her to flex and moan and move her limbs around. Softly, you lick Twilight’s labia majora, tasting her more thoroughly as you dive your tongue deeper to her minora. The lighter pink lips are much more sensitive, and she is holding your head in both hands, watching closely with her big purple eyes. You look right back at her, playfully beginning to eat her out in complete seriousness.

Your tongue flicks her clit hard without warning, causing Twilight’s thighs to clamp around your face. She almost boxes your ears in her jolting reflex, but your jaw barely saves you serious pain. Still, having her hot, smooth, now slightly wet thigh put serious pressure on one eardrum is far from pleasant. You wrap your hands around her thighs and hold them down instinctively and dive your tongue in. You drag it up and down quickly, moaning and caressing her outer lips with your breath. Twilight’s fingers tangle in your hair and her shoulders shake, she throws back her head as she screams.

Deliberately, you continue. Twilight’s clitoris is exceptionally sensitive, causing her whole body to twitch the first dozen times you give it a nice flick of the tongue. You dive your tongue inside not for pleasure, that’s just inefficient, but to feel her heat and taste her inside. Twilight’s copper-ish taste is hotter and stronger, but sweeter. She moans aloud, and you begin to take her home.

She reacts to the next phase exactly as planned. Twilight's throat closes up and her entire body goes stiff as you rapidly drag your tongue back and forth laterally across her labia. You move your head left, right, left, right, faster and faster, flicking and sucking her clitoris hard but briefly. She begins to shake, convulse, smile and look down, only to cross her eyes and flop back, her strong abs flex and cute breasts bounce. Twilight is weakly crying out in pleasure, then she begins to rapidly shriek. She wrenches your head harder into her vagina with both hands and you give her everything. You lap up her pussy like a bulldog, then go back and forth, up and down as fast and hard and deep as your tongue can.

TYLER!” She cries. “FUCK, AH! TYLER!” Twilight rides the razor’s edge for far too long before cumming, and you exert all your jaw, tongue, neck and shoulder muscles can before Twilight’s throat shuts again, her body convulsing violently. You use your strength and hold her still while you suck and lick her clit hard and fast, drawing out her orgasm. All of her body twitches convulses, her legs twitch and push and pull on your shoulders. You hold them tight until she tenses up, then relaxes her whole body again.

The princess goes limp at last on the table, laying on her side and cupping her pussy in one hand. “Tyler,” she pants, sweating slightly. “Were you always that fucking good?” she asks.

You kiss her thigh and stand up. “Does it matter?” you ask, touching her body. “I’ve watched films and read books on female anatomy, Twilight. I’m no doctor, but I like to think I know enough to get you off. I’m glad that you liked it so much.” You place a knee on the table, your throbbing cock touching her ass. You bend over Twilight’s sexy, curvy, ready body and kiss up her neck. You suck her earlobe gently and cup one of her squished breasts. “How ‘bout a kiss?” you ask, letting your breath grace her nose. She turns her head away, her nose scrunching up adorably.

Twilight shakes her head and pushes your face back. “Ew!” she exclaims, pushing you off her and sitting up. “Okay, do all girls smell like that?”

You shrug and straighten your back, holding your cock by the base as Twilight rests on her hands. “I’ve only ever had one other girlfriend, and that was in elementary school. You’ve never smelled your finger after masturbating?”

Twilight chortles, rolling her eyes. She shakes her head. “No, it’s gross!” Twilight laughs, taking a second to touch her lips and smell. “Is, is that healthy?”

You nod. “Of course. It’s just the way women smell, is all, sort of like copper and fish or something.”

“And you like it?”

“Love it. Because I love everything about you.”

Twilight bites her lips again, her shoulders lifting higher. “I love you, too,” she says. “Just, don’t expect a kiss.”

You share a short, awkward laugh, and you find yourself lost in her eyes. You collect yourself quickly and place both hands on her knees. “Likewise, cocksucker. Let’s fuck.”

“I hope you mean that in a good way, cuntlicker.”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you.”

“Yours smells worse!”

You spread Twilight’s legs wide, lifting her knees up into the air. Tossing Twilight around like a slampiece is fun, but you can’t keep it up for long. She lays back and relaxes for you, and there’s nothing to do but warm up your cock with her pussy lips. Twilight moans and watches you slip your cock around in her labia, sharply inhaling as you slap her clit lightly with the thick, heavy organ.

Your eyes are glued to Twilight’s vagina. She spreads herself around your dick, a skin-tight seal wetly accepting you inside. Twilight gasps and holds her breath, her hot walls sucking you inside. Twilight’s head falls as she is overloaded with your cock. You can’t get enough, but go slow. Twilight should feel every inch.

It takes decades, but you’re fully in her, dickhead pressing forcefully into her cervix when her lips touch your hips. You massage Twilight’s thighs and slowly draw back, groaning with pleasure. Twilight sharply inhales as you dive in again, poking her womb. She touches her belly and smiles up at you. “Nice and slow, Tyler,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Twilight. You feel amazing. You’re right, it’s been too long.”

Twilight smiles wide. “Can, can you do me standing? Like our first time?”

You nod your head, looking into her eyes for another moment. “Yeah, yeah let me…” You bend over and kiss her cheek, holding her face to your neck. You scoop Twilight up, hands on her ass and the small of her back. You stand up slowly, feeling her heels dig into your back, your cock still deep inside her.

Twilight is not shy about letting you hold her entire weight. She giggles playfully into your ear, rubbing her cheek into your shoulder affectionately, then leaning back. You pick her up by her tight ass and stroke your cock with her whole body. “Mmm, that’s good, Twilight. That’s thoroughly good.”

Her cute face screws up in pleasure, lips and nose screwing up into random shapes as your cock pushes harder than ever against her cervix. You pick up Twilight and drop her harder and faster, cock throbbing. You flex your groin muscles and make Twilight gasp, feeling your cock flex inside her. “Ah,” Twilight sighs and goes limp in your arms. You fuck her body harder and faster, treating her like a sex toy. Your arms begin to burn, you breath deep and buck your hips, lifting her up and down on your dick.

“Fuck me,” Twilight whispers in your ear. “It feels so good, just bang me, ah, as deep and hard as you can, Tyler. All I want is to make you feel good.” Twilight’s hands grab your hair and pull your face into shoulder. You bite her gently and grunt low, widening your stance and forcefully slamming your hips against hers. Twilight screams, but laughs in bliss. “Yes!” she calls out, her back arching as you lay into her faster. Her pussy slides around your long cock, sucking it, the sensation is the best feeling in the world.

You live in her bliss for a short time before your pleasure begins to peak. “Ah, Twi,” you grunt, forcefully fucking her supple body. “I’m starting to get close.”

“That’s good!” Twilight squeeks, body bouncing on your cock. She moans lets herself rebound again and again on your cock. She uses her feet and legs wrapped around you to spring up and down more rapidly. Somehow, the slight change causes the most intense pleasure to grow.

“Twi!” You arch your back as well, and your faces meet again. “I’m going to cum, where should I?” you ask, panting, sweat rolling down your back in small drips.

Twilight holds your deltoids with extended arms, breasts jiggling as your dick sends her skyward. “I want it i-” Twilight’s shoulders tense up and her eyes shut, biting her lip. “Mmm, in my mouth,” she moans. You rush to lay her down and pull out, your balls drawn up already. Twilight touches her reddenned pussy lips and strokes her clitoris rapidly as you aim your wet cock at her lips. She shuts her eyes and puts your cock in her mouth, moaning. Your ab muscles convulse and you double over, cumming. Your dick pumps rapid, long bursts of sperm into Twilight’s drooling mouth. She coughs and rolls her head to the side, but you’re not done. You take over, stroking quick, and finish off another series of spurts on her cheek. The lion’s share drips down onto her messy hair. Twilight holds her throat and coughs in distress, and you finally have enough self control to lift her head and body upright.

“Easy, easy,” you say, holding her from behind. Cum gets on your side from her long hair, but that’s the last thing on your mind. “Are you alright?” you ask, holding her as she coughs.

Twilight nods, holding her throat. “Wrong pipe,” she hacks, holding a fist to her lips. She swallows and coughs again, but she seems fine. You kiss her clean cheek and hold her, sort of spooning as you sit nude on the table.

“Sorry,” you reply, rubbing her tummy. “I should have gone a little slo-”

Twilight shuts you up with a kiss. You want to push her off and complain about the swapping of DNA, but she backs off before you can. “There. Now you know what it’s like to have the flavor of your gentials forced in your mouth.”

As nasty as a premonition you had about the same, you can’t complain. The taste is rather neutral compared to Twilight’s delicious pussy. You shrug. “Aside from not being able to say I don’t know what cum tastes like, I don’t regret it.” You surprise her with another kiss, and Twilight melts in your embrace. You lay her down on the table and rest your body on hers. She holds your face to hers, tongue slipping in your lips. You slide your leg between hers and gently massage her womanhood with your thigh, your sticky cock half-hard against her belly. Twilight's hands explore your back, she moans into your mouth.

She pushes your face gently back with a sticky hand. “Tyler,” she whispers, smiling wide. “My little romantic fantasy was a lot more messy than I thought it’d be.”

You think about how sticky you feel all over, her juices and your load randomly contaminating your skin and hers and the table. “Yeah,” you nod, smiling back at her adorable face. “It was fun, though,” you reply. “I love you, Twilight.”

She smiles, face cherry red. “I love you, too.” She kisses you deeply.

You touch her body some before getting up. The room is a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, the two of you splattered with each other’s physical love, the air is rank with sex. You inhale deep and sigh, appreciating the warmth the high-point and thermodynamics gives. The air is stuffy, but you appreciate how it makes Twilight sweat just a little, not enough to really stink but enough to make her skin slick. You sit against a bookcase and hold her in your lap, kissing and whispering to her ear. Her beautiful body gyrates into yours, her hot thighs resting on your legs. She touches them, and your arms as they wrap around her. “What about a talisman?”

“Huh?”

“Talismans,” Twilight repeats, turning to face you in your lap. “Just like magic gems, but they work on their own magical energy, not applied magic. Sort of like magic amulets, but instead of amplifying the wearer’s magic, they take an initial charge and use that to produce things like water, or heat, or anything, really.”

You blink and bring your brain back from thinking of ways to fuck Twilight to actual logic. “Wait, talismans?”

Twilight nods, rubbing her cheek into your chest. “Yeah. I’ve got a book somewhere…” trails off, pulling big hardbacks out of the shelves with magic. A dozen come down to float in front of her face, then go back like on an assembly line. “No, no, no, where’s the one with talismans?” Twilight checks another shelf, then another, then another, then another. She smiles as she skims twenty or so books, only to put them all back. You kiss her cheek and touch her round ass, squeezing it tight as she looks through the bookcase you lean against now.

“Here,” she says. “This should help you out with your doctorate,” she says, moaning softly as you kiss her neck tenderly. “Mmm, Tyler, you’re making it hard to think.”

“We can read that in a minute,” you say, reaching down to adjust your stiffening cock unashamedly. “Let’s cuddlefuck, just a little.”

Twilight smiles and turns in your lap, laughing softly as you hold her big breasts from behind. “We can take the party to my bed if you want. I’m a little sleepy after the long day, anyway.”

“Since we’re home alone, we should walk there naked,” you whisper into her ear, both hands firmly massaging her boobs. “Twilight, you’re so gorgeous, I just want to touch you forever.”

The princess touches your penis, pulling it to her hot lips. She pats the underside, pressing it into her pussy. “That would be hot,” she replies, then giggled. “But the castle’s a big place, and-”

You lick her earlobe and cause her to gasp. “So what?” you whisper in her ear. “It’s your castle.”

“Or I could wear your shirt.” Twilight cradles your testicles with her other hand, rolling them back and forth.

You squeeze her big tits and suck on her neck. “That’d be cute,” you breathe over her shoulder, watching Twilight's heavy, warm, soft breasts squish in your fingers. You gently pinch her hard nipples.

“Ah,” Twilight tugs gently on your shaft, watching it between her legs. “Tyler,” she whispers. “C-can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” you reply, lips in her ear.

Twilight leans back and grabs your thigh hard. “Next time you cum, I want to try swallowing it again.”

“We can definitely do that,” you reply, licking her ear. You buck your hips, Twilight’s hand was starting to feel incredible.

She lays her body back fully against yours, doing nothing but watching your dick throb in her hand. “You just, it was so sudden and so much,” she said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it all down.”

“Don’t be, Twi,” you whisper in her ear, holding her body tight by pressing your forearms into her torso as you pinch harder, making Twilight tense up. “We can work on that all night if we have to.”

“Tyler!”

You let go and apologize to her nipples by placing your palms flat against them. “But really,” softly still. “It doesn’t matter if you can do every page of the Zebra Sutra expertly, Twilight. Half the fun is figuring out things by ourselves, right? And besides,” you say, kissing her neck. “Now we have some great time to get a head start.”

Twilight leans back into your embrace and touches the tip of your cock with her fingers, leaning her head back and resting it on yours. “Ah, Tyler, I’ve got a little book for us to read in my room that I’ll think you like.” Twilight playfully squeezes the tip, playing with the bead of precum as it coats her fingertip. “Come on, then. Let’s go do it,” Twi says, rolling her hips back as she gets to her knees, slowly standing up, pushing herself into you. You slide your hands over her soft, slightly sweaty skin, touching her wide hips and round butt.

Twilight stands, bent over, looking over her shoulder, biting her lip as she sees you behind her, rod stiff and aimed at her. She looks down at it and wiggles her big ass back and forth. You pull yourself to her behind and tease her slit, stroking her lips. Your cockhead is rewetted by the juices. You slip in easily, groaning with Twilight in harmony. You smile and look at her, sliding in fully. Twilight’s head dips, she touches her belly and arches her shoulders down. The sight is incredible. She rests her hands on her knees and leans back into you. Slowly, you gently stroke all the way in and out, coating all of your dick with royalty.

"We're never going to get to the bed at this rate,” Twilight giggles over her shoulder, craning her neck and pulling her long hair back to look at you.

You pull Twilight’s wide ass hard into your lap and slap your hips against hers, pushing against her cervix. “Not with that attitude, we won’t, Twilight.”

Teeth gritting and eyes going back into her skull, Twilight’s weight shifts forward so much that she begins to fall. You bend down and grab her arms, but she’s so front heavy you have to haul her back rather roughly to keep her royal face from smacking the floor.

“Sorry!” you blurt, pulling hard on her arms. You jerk Twilight back quickly and catch her in a tight embrace. “Did that hurt your shoulders?” you ask, rubbing them from behind, cock still hard deep inside her.

Twilight nods, moving them around. “Did I pass out?” she asks, leaning back, her back arched so her pussy take your dick. “You rammed me so hard, it felt so good, next thing I know I’m being fucked with my arms behind my back.”

“It was just for a split second, I swear,” you reply, making short thrusts into and out of her tight twat. You touch her breasts some more.

The princess bend over a little again. “Mmm, about that bed? Why don’t we go now before we pass out?”

You keep gyrating your hips, she feels too good. “I don’t know, Twi. This feels amazing.”

“Mmm, you’re right,” Twilight moans, pushing back against you, spreading her stance a little. “But just think about all the ways we can do it on my big, bouncy bed.”

All you do to reply is push your hard cock in fully, then draw it out, pulling an audible response from both ends of the princess. “Ah!” she moans, nearly covering up the wet noise of her pussy closing again. “Come on,” she says, balancing herself and breathing rapidly. You grab your shirt for her, Twilight looks like she’s having trouble standing, leaning against the table heavily.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, dressing her, not out of necessity but a desire to touch Twilight must not go unfulfilled.

She nods, pulling her hair out of her eyes. “Mmhmm, just a little unsteady after you fucking my brains out. Let’s go get horizontal, sweetie.” Twilight pulls you in for a kiss tongue-first. You shove your tongue into her mouth in retaliation, grabbing the first body part your hands come in contact with. You squeeze Twilight’s thighs firmly, stroking the hot skin, sucking on her tongue now. You break away and stand back. Twilight’s red face turns down to gaze at your cock, dancing with your heartbeat, throbbing strong enough to visibly bounce. “Holy… does that hurt?”

“Only when you’re not here to ride it.”

Twilight giggles and leans back on the table. “Mmm, why the hell are we in a hurry to get to the bed?” she asks, sitting on the table and spreading her legs. “You can bury that dick in me right here, right now.”

“You’re talking naughty, princess,” you tease, stepping between her knees. Unceremoniously, you pull her ass to the edge of the table and rest both hand on her knees, sliding your dick along her labia with your hips. “I love it.”

Twilight guides your head into her and throws her head back, sharply inhaling as it pierces her entrance. You can feel her wet walls spread around your hard cock, the stickiness quickly lubricating as it’s rewetted. You watch Twilight’s body tense up in its joints as you slide as deep as you can inside her. It feels better than any sensation you’ve experienced. Twilight’s vagina is tight, nearly painful, but not. It feels to wet and soft and hot to hurt. You thrust your hips around, purely pleasuring yourself with her; any good Twilight feels is a happy side effect.

She hooks her heels behind your butt and spreads her legs wide, resting on her elbows. “That feels so good,” she groans, looking down to your thick cock in her. You thrust a little harder, enough to make her whole body bounce. Twilight bites her lips and watches you closely.

Every few slow, hard, long thrusts, Twilight has to pull her purple hair back out of her face. It is long, longer that it was back in college. You tease her by going faster and harder when she does so. “Ah!” she cries out, hand reaching for her face stuck as her muscles seize up in pleasure. Her whole body is half stiff, including her wide grin. You hold her hips and use long, quick, less forceful thrusts. Her pussy slickly slides over every inch of your dick as you stroke in and out of her tight pussy. Twilight lays back fully, holding onto the sides of the table to her left and right. It’s creaking, but sturdy.

You speed up the long thrusts, now needing to breathe hard to keep it up. You can feel a little sweat on your skin, a bead rolls down your back. Your six-pack is hard, flexing to fill Twilight full of yourself. You grit your teeth and go as fast as you can, causing Twilight to squeak and stop breathing. You focus on her jiggling tits, your hips rapidly slamming into her hers. Her body is leaking as your balls stop swinging and start drawing up in your body. You take the easy cue and go harder instead, furiously ramming into Twilight. She breathes again, her lovely skin illuminated by the moonlight through the ceiling to floor window. Her body is laid back against the table, eyes between shut and open. You ram into her one last time, the pleasure almost impossible to ignore. One last thrust, and there’d be Sparkle juniors. You pull out, cum already beginning to drip from your dick, and place the fluid-drenched rod to her lips. Twilight’s waiting tongue presses into the underside of your cock, her gorgeous, smart eyes gazing up through her messy bangs at you, gratefully begging for your liquid love. She grimaces, but hard, long spurts of sperm leave her unphased. She gags and sucks her lips around your dickhead, moaning, closing her eyes and feeling you fill her mouth with cum.

You don’t say a word or grunt, you only hold your breath as you orgasm hard, likely one of the best you’ve had. The sex was, certainly.

Twilight cups your emptied sack and gently strokes your milky shaft, still bobbing as it throbs. She winks and shows her mouth to you. It’s full of white semen, pooled on either side of her tongue. She smiles and swirls her tongue around. You can’t help but groan at the incredibly hot, slutty behavior of the most beautiful princess. She shuts her eyes and tries to swallow, then again, succeeding. She grimaces and holds a hand to her throat, then looks up with a victorious grin. “There!” she sighs. “Delicious.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, Twilight.” You help her up to her feet, touching her body all over, and you realize you are in a bit of a daze. The orgasm was pretty hard, and your erection remains strong. Twilight strokes it as she rests her head on your shoulder, her other hand hugging you. You hug her back, it’s hard to think.

“Come on, my stallion,” she whispers into your ear. “Let’s gather ourselves and our things and go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” you reply, thirsty, your mouth is dry.

Twilight giggles and firmly squeezes your cock. “Good, neither am I.” She pinches your buttox and leaves you, hard and dumbstruck as she begins to pick up her clothes. You turn and begin picking up your pants, your suit jacket, your shoes and socks, your shirt-

Twilight grabs it at the same time. You look up and let her take it. She carefully sets her clothes down and slips your shirt on. “I read something about girls wearing guy’s shirts being cute,” she says, buttoning it down. “What do you think?”

The white cotton is loose, but her round breasts and stiff nipples stick out clearly. “Very,” you reply, admiring her body again. There was endless things to admire. You look her over exaggeratedly and growl. “I like.”

Twilight smiles and turns to the side, showcasing her body for you, cupping her breasts. “Thanks,” she says. “I like, too. The best part is how it smells like you.” She sniffs the collar and smiles.

You slip your underwear on, your stiff member pointing up as the waistband pins the head to your waist. You pull your pants up, button them, and leave the belt and zipper free. You carry your jacket over your shoulder and follow Twilight to the door.

“Follow me quickly,” she says. “Spike’s probably asleep, but you never know.”

Spike? You remember the little boy Twilight was tasked with caring for when she wasn’t at school. He was barely a year old, now he had to be, what, five?

Twilight pulls open the door. A flood of cold, fresh air washes over the two of you, making Twilight visibly draw inward. You place your jacket over her shoulders and get a roll of the eyes. “Come on,” she teases, drawing your jacket over her arms.

She leads you across the catwalk-like balcony to a more homely section. Still blue, the crystal living quarters are no less grand. You emerge from a staircase into a hall. One end is an open kitchen area, barely furnished with the most basic appliances. The cheap fridge seems out of place in a palace. Twilight whisks you down another way to a bedroom door with her symbol on it. She opens it swiftly, pulling it shut behind her hurriedly.

Twilight kisses your cheek and drops her things at the foot of the bed. “One second,” she says, then disappears into the bathroom. You realize that after cumming, you need to use it as well. So much for romance. You drop your pants in the same pile and rest in Twilight’s bed. This four-poster befit a princess, but not Twilight. She seemed the kind content with a comfy cot.

You look about the dim room. Moonlight flows into the room, bathing a small ottoman and a stack of thick books. You hop down onto the hard stone floor, your footsteps quieted by the rushing water of a sink running. You grab the top one and look at the title: Finding Celestia in You, the next Mysteries of Equestria’s Past, and the third, Zebra History. You reach for the fourth when as you move the third hardback to the side, a magazine slips from the pages to flop onto the cushion. You restack the books and pick up the magazine. It takes some angling to make out the title in the stylized font, but the cover looks like a simple, maybe religious piece of art. You make out “The Equestrian’s Zebra Sutra: a Guide to Intimacy”.

Naturally, you open to the dog-eared page towards the center. It shows a photograph of a muscled man’s back, supple thighs wrapped around his torso, a woman’s face on his shoulder. She’s having the time of her life, enjoying “Ascended Missionary”. The position is accompanied with a three-page explanation about the position, but it’s too dark to read anything but the title. The next bookmarked page is what looks like missionary, with the man standing and the woman laying on her side, legs closed. “Vixen’s Grip” looks like it could be particularly painful.

“Wanna try it?” Twilight says from the doorway. You look up, unashamedly holding her reading material. Her hip is cocked, her shoulder resting on the frame. Twilight’s big breasts are resting on her crossed arms, her hair is back in a ponytail.

You look down, and back up. “Doesn’t look hard.”

“That,” Twilight replies, pointing at your cock. “Does.” Twilight shoves herself off the frame to saunter to her bed. “C’mere, Tyler. We’re not done.”

You walk to the bed and hold Twilight’s breasts as she rolls onto her back, head dangling off the side. She smiles and sticks out her tongue to the tip of your stiffening member through the fabric of your underwear. You drop them to Twilight’s giggling glee. It hurts to get hard so much, but her lips feel so good. Twilight responds to you groping her breasts with both hands wrapping around your thighs, encouraging you. Slowly, you shuffle forward, standing a little straighter so she can suck more of you into her mouth.

Twilight’s legs shift as she moans and takes more into her mouth. She tries to accommodate more, moaning, sucking, her tongue extends out of her mouth to make room. You look down and watch in the darkness. She swallows, once, twice, then gags and cranes her neck. Your dick makes a defined bulge in her throat. Twilight touches it, swallows and gags wetly. She barely takes another inch or so. Her free hand zips to her womanhood and rapidly strokes her labia. She coughs and you pull your hips back. Twilight rubs her throat and pussy, then opens her mouth for you. “So hard-” she huffs before sucking deep down onto it. You breathe heavily as Twilight vivaciously fellates your cock. You bend down and take her heavy breasts in both hands. She moans on your stiffness, making the best vibrating feeling.

“Oh, Twi,” you groan. “That feels great. Keep humming like that.”

She does, stopping only to swallow your cock down her esophagus and pop the head out again. The princess hooks a hand around your hip and pulls you by the ass to fuck her face. She shakes her head and tries hard to take the whole length, stopping when she can’t breath. Twilight comes off for air, gagging noisily and coughing hard. “Gfuck!” Twilight rubs your cock furiously, stroking the underside with her lips and cheek. Twilight resumes rubbing her pussy as she sucks your dick sloppily.

She throats again, but cannot get nearly as deep down, taking maybe seven inches. “Sorry,” she hoarsely groans. “It just hurts too much, Tyler.”

“No, no,” you reply, holding her spitty face as she rolls over to sit up. “It was beyond amazing. Let me do you, baby.”

Twilight shakes her head, smirking devilishly as she lays on her back. She makes you come with one finger, and you climb up on the soft bed to straddle her chest. Twilight’s pretty purple eyes cross as she stares at the dick in her face. “It looks so fucking nice,” she says. “Really, the shape and the, um, the veins,” Twilight croaks, her voice hoarse. “Oh dammit. I knew I was going too hard.”

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, rubbing your drying cock over her cleavage. Her warm, soft breasts are too nice. “Besides, it felt so damn good.”

“Yeah, it did,” Twilight said, nostalgically gazing at the tip in your stroking hand. “It felt… so damn good.”

“I’m going to fuck your tits and cum in your mouth again,” you say to her as if it’s an order. Twilight’s eyes light up, her smile goes from ear to ear.

“Yes!” she croaks, coughing. “Yes, do that, I need some hot cum to soothe my throat, Tyler.”

“Spit on it,” you command, grabbing her gorgeous violet bangs firmly. She does, coating the whole head with plenty of hot saliva. You drag your head between her tits, and when they’re wet enough to fuck, you do so vigorously. Your testes, you realize, are still drawn up close. They must have been for some time, you reason. Forcefully, yet slowly and steadily you hump Twilight’s chest. Her bed creaks and both of your bodies bounce on the plush blankets. Her soft bed absorbs so much of the bounce, it’s something like fucking in quicksand. You go as fast as you can, Twilight’s beaming, holding her tongue out.

Twilight purses her lips and kisses your dick as it rocks forward rapidly. The soft, wet sensation makes your orgasm come much more quickly. “A-ah, Twi,” you moan. “I’m gonna cum, baby, open your mouth for me and show off your pretty tongue.”

Twilight’s eyes widen again as she obeys enthusiastically. “Ah! F-fuck!!” You feel your cock shoot without so much as a throb for a warning. Twilight squeaks, but keeps her composure, closing one eye as it’s latched shut with a thick line of cum. She quickly recovers and wraps her lips around your red head. Twilight looks up and moans as you cum, hard, grunting, sharply inhaling through your teeth.

Twilight gently moans more, stroking your abs with her hands, feeling as much as she can. Her soft lips come off your cock cleanly save for one cummy spit bridge. She smiles and shows off before swallowing another thick load. “Mmm,” she says, surprised by a little hiccup. “Wow,” she croaks with a giggle. “Talk about a midnight snack. You’re delicious, Tyler.”

“Thanks,” you say, kneeling over her. Finally, your spent manhood seems tired enough to be anything but rock-hard. “I think that’s all she wrote, at least for a little bit.”

“Oh,” Twilight says, her body visibly relaxing. You roll off of her and smile as she rests her head on your chest. “Mm, my pussy is sort of… sore,” she admits hoarsely. “So that’s good.”

“How is your throat. Twi?” you ask, stroking her hair, hugging her tight with your left arm as she nuzzles into your chest hair, sparse as it is.

Twilight hums, you feel her hand move up to touch her throat. “Not good, but definitely worth it. I loved that.” Twilight kisses your skin. “I never knew how much I missed you.”

You sigh and shift so that more of your body touches her. You remain silent, drunk on Twilight for some time, until shortly after that another bodily need demands you take your leave. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, honey, but I need to use the bathroom.”

Twilight huffs and groans, wrapping her arms around you. “Mmmno, need you snuggle.”

You defy her adorable, sleepy, croakey attempt at binding you to her bed by rolling over on top. Twilight smiles as you kiss her forehead. You get up, finish your business quickly and shuffle back to Twilight’s bed, finding her tucked snuggly under the covers.

“Tired, Twi?” you ask, sliding in behind her. Twilight’s soft skin is hot and wonderful to touch. You do so as you pull her fantastic ass into your lap, pushing your half-hard dick into her butt. The princess stirs, but only moans childishly as she leans back into your embrace.

“Not fair,” she whispers and giggles, pushing back into your lap. “It actually hurts, Tyler,” she says, twisting her shoulders and looking back, cupping your face in her hand. “Are you sure we can’t take just a little break? You came four times already!”

“Anything for you, Twi.” You kiss her lips and embrace her tightly. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to tease you, though.”

Twilight begins to struggle, until your thick cock slips between her legs, the head brushing by her warm, sticky clitoris. Her royal body shivers and tenses up, her butt muscles flex and squeeze the length. “That’s not fair!” she gripes without a voice. Twilight steals your hand, the one draped over her midsection, and she holds it to her cheek with both hands. “Tyler,” she sighs, mumbling about something as she goes still. You shut your eyes and relax, yet your enthusiastic wood does not relent. Your body relaxes completely save the sentient organ between four legs.

Absently, you gyrate your hips, just barely enough to feel it. Twilight’s legs and body gently flex and twist, her hot body moving just enough to mix up the covers. You lean your head back and relax, but your hips refuse to obey. You force yourself to stay still, but it’s like balancing on one leg. You hold still, mentally cuddlefucking Twilight silently. You open your eyes and watch Twilight’s head from behind. She’s still, just like you, but there’s some motion along your cock. You look in near pitch blackness and see something stirring around Twilight’s hip. You rest your hand on her butt, finding that she’s tense, her toned glutes flexing.

“Twi,” you whisper, thrusting forward and pulling your body to hers. “Maybe some light reading could calm us down?”

She sighs and rolls over to face you, apologizing to your manhood for taking away its warm, wet home by wrapping her fingers around it and gripping firmly. “Tyler,” she groans. Twilight swallows hard. “I’ll get something quick,” she whispers, then kisses you. “Don’t be too sexy while I’m gone.”

You lay your head back and masturbate openly as Twilight leaves, her wide hips and big butt begging to get treated rough. Twilight shuts the wooden door behind her, leaving you alone to breathe in the night air. You get up and look out the window over Ponyvile. Only a few stories off the ground, the rather humble bedroom inside the extravagant tree has a wonderful view of the field beyond. Bathed in blindingly bright moonlight, the field rolls along, grass sleeping soundly in the deep night. There’s no wind, yet no other noise. No cars drumming along, no horns blaring, no frat parties or dnb or people screaming. You open the window and listen closely to the still night. Not a sound. It’s serene, the milky field. Beyond is an ominous, important looking wood, but that’s not important tonight. The air is warm, refreshing. You leave the window open and turn to the opening door, your body silhouetted against the moon.

“Ah!” Twilight stifles a rough scream. She clutches her throat with her free hand, the other holding a heavy hardback. She gulps and shuts the door. “Startled me, you scary, big man.”

“You should be afraid, little princess. I am dangerous.”

Twilight eyes you up and down, smiling. She drops the book on the foot of the bed and feigns terror. “Please, don’t hurt me. Just take anything you want, I won’t stop you.” She giggles as you walk to her, her eyes drop to your stiff dick.

You take her head in your hand, gripping her hair hard. “I think I’ll take me a beautiful princess to bed.”

Twilight faints into your arms, smiling up as you hold her. “Be gentle, you cretin.”

“I know how to deal with little delicate flowers, my lady Twilight,” you reply, swooping her up in a barbarian’s carry, her ass sticking up in the air next to your face. She laughs hard, her sore throat makes it sound painful. You drop her unceremoniously onto the bed. You climb in after and nuzzle in behind her, grinning wide as she grinds her body up and down against yours.

“Tyler,” she whispers back over her shoulder. “If you want to…”

You aim your long cock down between her legs again, feeling much more wetness. Twilight places a hand on your hip, keeping you still as she gently strokes you with her wet pussy. Twilight moans hard, shoulders hunching in bliss. “Yes,” she whispers. “Oh my gosh, that feels so good. Right into my clit, yeah.”

“Doesn’t hurt?” you ask into her ear.

She nods her head. “Mm-hmm, but I’m still so horny.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You fucking will.” Twilight arcs her back hard, you touch her spine with your hand and watch with your hands as Twilight slides her ass back along you. Her wet pussy deflects up and over your shaft, getting the tip and the top drenched. She pulls forward and gently presses her ass back into your lap. The royal throat closes as your thick cockhead spreads her wide. Twilight keeps her hand on your hip and gently bounces on your head, soaking it before taking it again. Twilight moans, holding her throat, and takes a few inches. She winces, sucking in air through her teeth, but she moans anyway. Her wet walls are detailing your dickhead and the pleasure is insane. You feel a hard throb and she actually holds you down as your abs flex reflexively. She giggles quietly and pushes, groaning and grunting as she slowly bounces inch after hot, thick inch inside.

“Ah,” she drops her head to the pillow and rests, breathing shortly and shallowly.

You grab her butt with one hand and hold it tight. “That hurt, Twi?”

She nods. “I’m sorry, it feels good, but,”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say to her. “Don’t ever be sorry for being too sore or too tired. Your body is a temple, right? We should listen to it.”

"G-ah,” Twilight gingerly pulls your cock out and rolls over onto her stomach. “I just wish I could satisfy you, like you did me.”

“Well,” you reply, laying on top of her fantastic ass. “Vaginal is one of many types of sex, Twilight.”

“Tyler,” she giggles. “Come on, you can’t be- mn!”

She goes silent suddenly as you press a finger against her anus and gently prod. The hotness of her little back door is enticing. “I’ve never done anything back there, before.”

“Me neither,” you whisper in her ear, biting her earlobe. “I know it feels good, though.”

“I know,” Twilight moans. She tenses up as your middle finger penetrates dryly into her asshole up to and past the first knuckle. “It’s still kinda painful, though.”

“More than your pussy?” you ask, popping your finger out and sliding it back in. The heat is addicting. You slide in deeper, feeling the weird texture. Where the first inch of her pussy was the rougher labia and then a smooth bit followed by the ribbed heaven, her anus was much more smooth, yet dry. Her anus puckered and squeezed hard around the base of your finger as you gyrated it back and forth deep inside.

“Mmm, no, not really, but… Ah, try two, but, get them wet, please. NOT with my pussy!”

You laugh and hold her tight as you bring your dirty finger to your mouth. It’s clean, as far as your eyes can tell, but the odor is there. It’s not as off-putting as it should be. You suck your first, unsoiled digit and spit on the second, getting them drenched. You hold Twilight’s neck as you spread her ass with a thigh and massage her anus with your wet fingers. They slip in so much easier, it even feels hotter. “MMMmmm, that’s better,” Twilight moans into her pillow. You kiss her ear and slowly finger her ass.

“Ah, go, go a little harder and deeper. I can take it.” You do, letting go all shame about the taboo of anal. Twilight seems like she is begrudgingly enjoying it, unlike when her pussy was fucked earlier. She would scream that from a mountain, you know it, but this seemed more uncouth, savage, unclean, something not proper for pillow talk among her girlfriends.

Your two fingers are fully fucking her with all their length and thickness, rather forcefully and extremely quickly driving a new pleasure into Twilight, and a new lust into you. You shift your weight and kneel behind her, pulling her hips up off the bed with your free hand. Twilight smiles and moans as you push your fingers into her like a kid trying to get his quarters back from a bad arcade game.

“I’m going to put it in now, Twilight looks back, beaming, and nods. “Get that behemoth wet first, and go slow, baby. Why does this feel so good?”

“Anatomy,” you flatly answer, slapping your throbbing hard cock up into her pussy lips. “Probably something with the novelty of a new type of sex? The rush of breaking unspoken rules, some form of love, too, probably, and of course the fetish.”

“Shut up and fuck my ass, Tyler.”

You spread her pussy again, soaking the drying pussy fluids on your cock. You pull out before the princess can whine and pull your fingers out her asshole. Her anus gapes a little before flexing and closing. You spread her wide open with your dried out fingers and put your dripping cock to her entrance. It’s thicker than two fingers, but the wet tip slides in forcefully anyway. The tightness in unbelievable. Masturbating while gripping as hard as you can is triple-A league to this major . Twilight moans almost as loud as you do. You push your slick dick hard into her squeezing asshole, forcing her open. Twilight’s entire body shivers and tenses and screws up and resists, but she moans and begs for more. A drumming in your head drives you a few inches deeper into her new hole. It’s as if her entire body functioned to keep this part of her body as hot as possible, too. The heat is scalding, the wetness amplifying the transfer and sensation, too. You finally pump, and Twilight bites the pillow instead of screaming. You grab both hips and thrust, gently at first, but once the head forcefully slips in, it’s easy enough. It does take more force to move, the slickness isn’t as much as her vagina and she’s so much tighter. The heat and intimacy make your balls draw up already, the bulging, softer underside of your cock is pinched, just like the rest of your cock, at the base. “Mmm, this is fantastic, Twilight,” you groan. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“It hurts,” she croaks, but you don’t slow down. If she wanted you out, she’d get you out with magic, or something. “But I like it. Keep going, I want to feel you cum inside.”

It doesn't take more soft dirty talk to get you to finish. You pump her ass harder and deeper, her body bouncing as she accepts you in her back door. Your cock is throbbing so hard again, and you let it come this time. No holding back and then forcing it out as hard as you can, you just shove it in, all ten inches, and let yourself cum. Your balls draw up again and you shout nonsense, grunting, cumming hard. The orgasm is painful, anything after four always is. Still, it’s mind-numbing, and when you finish, you pull her body close and lay on your side, nose in her hair, spent fuel rod buried in her ass. She’s twitching just as much as you, and the feeling makes you laugh. Twilight reaches down between her legs and massages your empty balls.

She sighs. “Done yet?” she asks with a little laugh. “If you’re not, I might just have to make some coffee.”

“I love you, Twilight.”

She cups your testicles and turns to look at you over her shoulder. “I love you so much, Tyler.”

]She kisses you, gently sucking your lips before wincing and tightening up. “Ah!”

You pull out and wince yourself. Her muscles are much stronger back there, anyone’s would be. “That was loads of fun, huh?”

Twilight giggles and rolls over, laying on top and kissing you deeply. You reciprocate, your spent cock resting snugly betwixt your bellies. She slows to a stop over a long time and you rest with her, her warm body slowly and steadily breathing.

“I love you so much."

She doesn’t respond beyond nuzzling her face into your shoulder. You pull the covers, long since discarded, over her shoulders and shut your eyes for the last time that night. Sleep takes it’s sweet time to come, but you have no quarrel with spending more time with Twilight, digesting her new body, her new self.

Rainbow Dash

View Online

“Well,” you grumble to yourself. “Gotta start somewhere.”

You close the door of your sedan and adjust the strap of your gym bag, grateful the late-spring weather is gorgeous. The parking lot is small and nearly empty save three cars including your own. You notice one’s in a handicap spot with no tag. Why a gym would need a handicap spot is a mystery. “Trotter’s Fitness” is a far cry from the campus multi-leveled super-gym back in Canterlot. You open the door and step inside.

A little twenty-something looking girl with a plain name tag reading “Blossomforth” perks up as you walk up in a tight muscle shirt. She wears a white tee, her contrasting magenta and lime bangs and round breasts bouncing. “Good morning!” she says, leaning on the counter.

“Morning,” you reply and shortly sigh. “I’m here for the personal trainer job. Thought I’d swing by and check out the facilities. Warm up some, introduce myself and everything.”

Blossomforth pulls her bright bangs out of her eyes and turns to the computer screen, clicking and scrolling through a calendar screen. “So…” she says, trailing off. “You must be Jake?”

“Think so. Everyone’s been calling me that, and I’m afraid to correct them.”

She giggles at the lamest joke. “Well, Jake. This email says you’re going to talk to the owner around three, right?”

“Right,” you reply. “But a girl is coming by around noon. It’s cool if I use the gym before talking to mister Trotter, right?”

Blossomforth beams. “Of course! Would you like me to show you around?”

“Nah,” you decline, still nervous to meet with your client. “I do the solo thing. It’s, uh, it’s been working for me pretty well, ya know?” You flex and let her drink in the tanned skin.

She nods, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t hate me for watching, then.”

“Oh, I don’t mind attention. Just wipe up your drool when you’re done.” You wink and floor her with a white-toothed smile. If anyone else but her was your very first client, you might just take the time to see how well Blossomforth knew her way around a standing squat.

You distract yourself and your pounding heart by touring the gym, after locking your bag up in the small locker room, of course. Both by most any means are meager. One bench, a set of dumbbells ranging from ten to a hundred in pairs, three treadmills and three bikes, a pull up bar, a set of “Totally Fitness” machines that are at least thirty years old for a few basic muscle groups, and a tiny all-purpose room with a punching bag wrapped in duct tape all constitute a rather sad excuse for a gym. Mirrors are plentiful, however, and there are abundant water fountains, posters showing basic workouts and stretches and gym wipes.

"Wow," you mumble. "This place sucks." You limber up in the open room with stretches to start out. Lateral twists, high knees, lunges, unicornian twists, and lastly just plain pushups and situps, with narrow, wide, and one handed variants. Next, you move onto the bike, to relax and read until noon, when Rainbow Dash should arrive.

You spend nearly an hour pedalling, traversing ten miles and two pages, and you cannot remember a single word. You put your bookmark back and sip some water. The clock above the bench reads fifteen until noon.

No reason to continue trying to read, no time to leave and return, there isn’t anything to do. You stroll back to the front desk and try your luck at small talk.

“So, what do you think?” Blossomforth calls as you enter the reception area.

I think I want to do an incline press. “Basic, but good. Sometimes basic is better.”

“Basic how?” she asks. “I’m no Olymponian crossfit type,” she says, resting her elbows behind her back on the countertop and turning her head upside down. “What kinda stuff would you like in a gym?”

“There’s no space for it,” you begin, “but just a big machine with an adjustable height pulley and adjustable weights, interchangeable hand grips. They’re versatile and really not too pricey, and even grips for pull ups across the top would be easy. Maybe we can rearrange some of the equipment around and fit one in here.”

“Oh, that’s above me,” Blossomforth replies, mimicking a jetstream with a hand over her head. You lean on the counter and watch the clock on the computer monitor tick towards noon, still twelve minutes away. Rainbow Dash, the fashionably late girl from college, would easily take more than half an hour to-

Blossomforth’s eyes pop open and you sluggishly follow her gaze, looking up just as the bell above the opening door rings.

There she stands, her eyes hidden in the shadow of her silhouette cast by the bright blue sky behind her. The slouching girl with an incredibly tight body from four years back now stands straight, hand on the strap of her gym bag. Your eyes dip and analyze her body quickly. Her thighs and shoulders seem rounder and stronger, and her six pack seems just a little less defined, but just as strong. She’s put on a little weight, but it’s almost entirely muscle. That much is easy to tell from first glance. Her old body was nice and slim, but Rainbow Dash was always something out of a dream. Her waist is just as slender, but her hips and her bust seem to be fleshed out some more. Her body overall looks more well fed, no ramen breakfasts and ice cream midnight snacks, with beers in between.

She stepped toward the counter, her eyes were on you, someplace between angry and another emotion. You stand up a little, not to be threatening, but not to cower away. It was incredibly awkward.

“Hey, Rainbow,” Blossomforth greeted bravely, her voice surprisingly amiable. “Gonna get toned as fuck?” She chuckled, but the tension was too tight.

“Yeah,” she said lowly, her eyes on you. “Yeah, I think I will. Got a PRT coming up.”

“Sounds good,” Blossomforth replied, retreating into her chair.

“Yeah,” Rainbow obligatorily tossed towards the girl behind the counter. “It does.”

You breathe softly and deeply, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. With no body language, you try your luck. “Long time no see, Dash.” You try to remain light. She was a powder keg four years ago. Time usually calmed heated spirits, but Rainbow sure seemed hot.

She nodded and rapped her knuckles on the counter, strong magenta eyes on you. Her body, just an arm's length away, was begging for a bent over kiss. “Yeah, yeah it has been. You ever get that degree in physics or whatever?”

“Kinesthesiology, but yes. That’s why I’m here. You ever get that commission?”

“Sorta.” Dash cracks a little smile, but that only adds to the tension. Talking to that angry, sexy face was like walking a razor’s edge on a windy day. “Couldn’t cut the nerdy stuff in college, so I got a commission in the reserves, just recently, actually.”

“Congrats!” Blossomforth added, then quickly retreated into her seat, hiding her red cheeks as she slumped down into a puddle.

Dash never broke eye contact, that angry glare growing sharper. “I have to muster in two months for a field exercise and a PRT, or physical readiness test. Just a simple run, two minutes of pushups and two of sit ups. But,” Dash added, knocking her knuckles on the counter. “If I don’t max everything, I won’t get the waiver I need. Don’t ask.”

“Don’t think I care to.”

“Good.”

“Very.”

Dash pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze at you, but you don’t budge. “You came here to get sweaty, so lets get started.”

“Lets!” She plucked up the bag she already had slung over her shoulder and stormed off into the gym. You don’t turn around and follow, waiting for her to come back. “Hey, Blossomforth,” she asks quietly, glowering, you’re sure, even though you’re not looking at her. “Where’s the girl’s locker room?”

You watch through your peripheral as Blossomforth points in the direction to your left. Dash walks off that way, leaving a wake of indignant frustration.

“Sheesh,” the girl behind the counter quietly comments. “What’d you do to her?”

“Trusted her. I trusted her, one time too many.” You dip your head at last and sigh. You collect yourself and pointlessly simulate the future in your head. It’s detrimental, probably, but you cannot not do it. Dash will come back, probably wearing even less, too damn sexy for public. She’ll raise hell over something and you’ll retaliate, call her a cheating whore again, she might get physical, again, and things could only go downhill.

“Once too many,” you repeat, hoping the cryptic tone will dissuade Blossomforth from further questioning. You want to leave, but you cannot do that. You’re a professional. Professionals don’t fuss or fight, they’re efficient, executing their job and not causing other problems. You rap your knuckles on the counter and shake your head, returning yourself to Earth. “Sorry, honey. Drama is all it is. Old drama.”

“How old?” she asks.

You look towards the locker room and watch Rainbow walk out, a sweatband, a Celestia-damned sweatband on her forehead, blue and gold, a winged lightning bolt stitched on the side. “Just four years or so.”

“Four and a half,” Rainbow corrects from across the gym, the quiet radio hardly cause to raise her voice.

You nod and stand up tall and walk to her.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you offer, trying to start on a completely straight-forward, to the point, non-drama, no bullshit plane. “I’ll come back in a second and, um, we’ll start stretching and work out a nice plan.”

“Cool,” she replies, her pretty magenta eyes staring off as she twists her upper body back and forth.

You bite your bottom lip as you pull your manhood over your waistband in the bathroom. You finish in a few seconds, not needing to piss at all, really. You take your time washing your hands, then your face. It won’t be that bad, you tell yourself, staring your square jaw down in the mirror. You wash your face and dry off, then return to the gym.

Rainbow’s eyes catch yours for just a second, but it’s a painful second. Buried emotions knock on the doors to their coffins as you approach her in the multi-purpose room. “Okay, so,” you begin, clapping your hands. “Pushups, situps, and run. Couldn’t be easier. We’ll definitely hit the treadmill, then work around with the upper body and core, not neglecting the legs. They’ll be important for the distance run if you want any sort of speed.”

“Mmhmm,” she replies, cocking her hip. “I know what needs work. I came here to learn how.”

“And I’ll show you.” Getting into things wasn’t so bad. Professionalism. “Okay, let’s start out with dynamic stretches. Today, we’ll just get the hang of things and warm up to the motions, no pushing the limit, just finding them. Slowly,” you show her, “stand feet shoulder-width and reach for the sky, holding hands, palms up. Go to your right, keeping your body flat to the plane you’re on. Imagine you’re in a narrow slot, your chest and back are touching invisible walls, parallel. Go as far as you can,” you exhale, glad she does as well, following what you do, standing opposite. “Hold, and go to your left.” You slowly stand up straight and go to your right, facing her and mirroring Rainbow. “Two more times each way, holding extreme. If you can go further than me, go for it.” Rainbow can, considerably.

“Step back,” you instruct and perform. “Same stance but feet double far apart. Reach all the way forward and then down, between your legs, keeping them straight.” You wish you could see her ass right now. “Try to grab something behind your butt with both hands, keeping your spine perfectly straight. Hold the extreme for five seconds, then come back up,” you do slowly, watching Rainbow follow you. Her bare stomach isn’t as flat as it once was. “And all the way back, keeping your spine straight, don’t lean to the side. Go until you feel off balance, then come back.” She’s far more flexible than yourself. “Repeat. Hold the extreme.”

You stand and spread your stance. “Grab your left ankle, stance as wide as possible. Hold it when you feel pain, don’t push it.” Her skin-tight bike shorts nearly touch the spongy gym floor. “Other side.” You hold the position, stroking your burning hamstring. “Back, repeat twice.” You do so silently, listening to her breath, trying with little success to keep your excitement contained. You're grateful you tucked things away into your waistband.

“Alright now to get started,” you tell her, standing to look in her eyes. You try not to think about the red in her cheeks. “Lets hit the treadmill, then we’ll work on some strength training for your core.”

You grab your water and head for the treadmills, wishing that you were following Rainbow. “How far are we gonna run?” she asks, taking the one next to you. “The fitness test is only a mile and a half.”

“Then we’ll go ahead and do two, keeping an even pace.”

Rainbow doesn’t complain, but she is visibly trying not to.

“Come on, just hit six miles an hour and keep that up for twenty minutes. Nothing to it. The mind is lazy, not the body. Once you hit that stride, I bet you’ll outpace me no problem.”

Rainbow climbs onto the treadmill next to yours, one of the three, and you begin after her by hitting start. The old machine hums up and you begin slowly walking, then jogging, then breaking into a 1440 clip. You try not to let your mind wander, but it does. Rainbow’s body is in the forefront, as well as millions of sweetly painful memories, the scar burning again. The urge to ask her questions come and go like powerful, indefinite tides. You pass a mile before saying a word, then a mile and a half. The entire jog, you are listening to Rainbow’s footfalls and even, deep breathing, in through the nose and out through her mouth. She’s a former track star, so there’s no surprise she knows what she’s doing. Nothing can train for a run like a run, however, and she came here to train.

Two miles pass easily in twenty minutes, so you hit three miles an hour and cool down. You shake your legs and arms out, feeling your round biceps and thick forearms, pumped to pump some good arm and chest exercises. Of course, since it’s Rainbow’s first day with you as a client, it will be an “all over” day, with few reps but many sets.

You look over to Rainbow after a minute or so of walking briskly. “Ready for pushups?” you ask, cracking your neck, wishing the radio was on another, less teenage-girl station.

“Yeah,” she says lightly. “Yeah, let’s fuckin- let’s do it. Sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “Six months in the military and I’m already cursing like a sailor.”

“I don’t give a shit about language,” you reply, slapping the big red stop button. “Let’s get fucking huge.”

Rainbow rolls her adorable magenta eyes and hops off the treadmill, leading you to the open room in the gym. “So,” she asks, walking backwards. “What’s next, Jake?”

You can’t hold in a smile. She’s just as cute as she was 4 years ago. You wonder if vodka still makes her handsy. “Fucking push ‘em out!”

Rainbow goes red in her face, in a volcanic land between amused, scarred, and furious. She lands somewhere near embarrassed and pridefully flattered. She drops to a perfect pushup position, palms pointing parallel with her straight spine, and drops her shoulders until her elbows break ninety degrees. You instinctively drop and join her, counting out loud.

“Two! Three! Four! Deeper! Six! Seven! Deeper! Nine! Ten more! Eleven! Twelve! THIRteen! FOURteen! FIfteen! SIXteen! SEVENteen! EIGHTEEN! NINETEEN! HELL yeah!” You jump to your feet with her and try not to overstep any boundaries. “That’s what I’m talking about! Okay, let’s knock out some ab stuff,” you inform before Rainbow can object. “Do you know how to do ‘photosynthesis’?”

Rainbow scoffs, face red, breathing heavily. “What?”

“Watch.” You sit on your ass and cross your feet, keeping your hands to your chest as you lean back to about forty-five degree. “Photosynthesis,” you monotonously drone as you lean back until you nearly lose balance, extending your legs straight and splaying your arms to either side. You retract and beckon Rainbow with a pull of your head. “Come on. It looks dumb, but it burns your upper abs hard.”

“Okay, man,” Rainbow laughs. “I’ll try it.” She drops to her round butt and takes your starting position.

“Say it with me: photosynthesis. Photo-come on, you have to say it, Rainbow,” you gesture for her to do it, but she’s refusing, red faced. “We’re gonna keep doing them until you say it twenty times. Photosynthesis.”

You laugh with her as she tries to say it, copying your exercise. “Photosynthersum,” she tries, but laughs and drops her feet to the floor. “Dammit, Jake, why do you have to be so weird?”

“It’s weird,” you counter, moving your arms and extending your crossed legs, feeling a tightness in your upper abs. “But it works, I barely feel a thing. Come on, Photosynthesis.”

“Photosynthesis-”

“One.”

Rainbow scoffs and repeats the repetition. “Photosynthesis.”

“Two. Photosynthesis.”

Rainbow smiles and picks up the pace, extending her legs straighter. “Photosynthesis.”

“Four.”

You repeat until twenty, then rest back on your hands, smiling wide. “Sweet. See? It works.”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me say something equally stupid for other exercises.” Rainbow pulled her long, prism-effluent bangs out of her face and rolled her eyes. She was still so cute, and talking now was immensely easier. You see for the first time the same passionate, wild girl from college, just a little more controlled.

You take a quick breath and shake your head. “No, nothing like that. Alright, follow what I do. I don’t have a name for this one, but it’s good for keeping your gut muscles loose.” You slap your palms down to either side and lift your feet straight up into the air above your hips. Quickly, you bend your knees and pull your heels to your butt, then sharply and smoothly extend your feet out about six inches from the floor. You draw your feet in and kick straight up with your legs. “Easy. Do it with me.”

Rainbow puffs air out her nose and leans back, kicking her amazing, slender, strong legs straight into the air with you. You grunt and draw your feet in, Rainbow follows. You rock with her for forty repetitions easily.

“Crunches,” you blurt, immediately crossing your feet in the air, knees bent at ninety degrees. You cross your arms over your chest, fingers on your round, strong shoulders, and lurch up until your elbows smack into your knees. You repeat twenty times, keeping pace easily with Rainbow, who looks bored more than anything. “Unicornian twists,” you command, watching her tight, slim body sit up. She’s strong and thin, just like four years in the past.

“One, two three four, Two,” you count only the first of the two-stroke exercise, paddling an invisible canoe against the stream up until twenty.

“Cross crunches, just do what I do.” You lay back and bend your left knee, foot on the floor. You twist your other knee and rest your other ankle on your knee. You keep your right palm on the floor and bring your left elbow to your right knee, hand behind your head. "That's one." Rainbow repeats, awkwardly figuring out the exercise. After several repetitions, she understands well enough and rocks it out.

"Switch it up," you order, and she obeys.

Twenty reps later you lay on your back and take one deep breath. "Touch your toes," you say, bringing your straight legs and arms vertical. You lay flat again, watching Dash imitate now. "One-uh," you count. The exercise is the most difficult of them all, so you end up doing thirty.

"And start it over," you pant, blood pumping hotly through enough of the rest of your body to calm down your manliness. "Photosynthesis," you begin, focused, not taking any flak. "Come on, photosynthesis- one. Photosynthesis two, photosynthesis three, say-it-out-loud four," you shut up holding your position. Rainbow held the position, red faced, a sweat breaking across her tan, smooth skin.

She drew in and grunted softly. "Photosynthesis-"

"One," you count for her. "Ya gotta do it right."

“This-is-stupidthesis.”

“Two.”

“Fuck-osynthesis.”

“Three.”

You laugh with her as you finish out, just counting the reps. "Okay, what'd we do next?"

"The bendy one, right?" She asks, slapping her palms on the floor and sticking her feet straight up in the air.

"Bendies it is. Go," you begin holding your legs straight out six inches off the floor. You pull your feet in, watching Rainbow Dash and her round, tight ass. You kick vertical and pull back down, your lower back rolling down to rest on the floor again. "One."

You repeat until twenty, then the next exercise, and the next. Before long, your core is burning and a bead of sweat rolls down your cheek.

"Flip," you command, snapping to a pushup position. "On your count," you say, watching Rainbow adjust herself.

She takes a deep breath and drops, breaking ninety by far, and pushing up smoothly. "One."

You follow her through ten, but make her go lower on the eleventh. "Just like sex," you tell her, chest nearly touching. "It doesn't matter unless you go deep."

Rainbow rolls her eyes, fighting a smirk, and drops until her little, squished tits nearly touch the spongy gym floor beneath her. "Eh-leven!"

Again she drops nearly to the floor, grunting as she shakily rises. "Twelve!" "Thirteen!"

"Two more, just as deep."

"Thirteen!" Rainbow rests in the up position just for a breath, your threshold for egging her on, and drops quickly. Her rise is slow and laborious. "Fourteen!"

"Kill it, Dash!"

She puffs air and falls until her nipples barely scrape the floor, then rises, back still straight, but shaking. "FIFTEEN!" She shouts, rolling onto her back.

"What's the minimum for max, Rainbow?"

"Forty-eight," she sighs, arms to either side. "I don't have to go that deep or that slow, though." She sucks one more deep breath. "Jerk."

“You’re paying me,” you tell her evenly, sitting up. “That’d be a decent start for any good upper body day. Come on, let’s keep going. Lets get some barbells.”

You hop up to your feet and take Rainbow’s hand and pull her up. She stands close to you, breathing deeply. Once she’s up, you realize that that was the first physical contact you had with her since she set off for Manehatten. You’re afraid to ask how her experience with the flight officer school went. Seeing as she was a candidate for the Wonderbolts, maybe it went well. Maybe it didn’t.

“What kind of stupid shit are we gonna do now?” Rainbow asks, cocking a hip, her bottom lip looks kissable, soft, like it would do wonders if wrapped around your- “Leg stuff? Arm stuff?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, leg stuff. Lunges and squats, then once your arms and chest recover some we’ll go to the bench and get your shoulders, too.” You bring sets of ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five over to the area near the benches, finding enough room to do everything. Hogging weights in an empty gym is like turning right when the sign says not to after dark: unethical, but not much at all.

“How much do you do?” you ask, hands on twenties.

“Uh…” she thinks, rubbing her neck. Her aerobic top shows off her almost-flat stomach. You just can’t stop thinking about taking a hand and stroking up, over her bra, that’s what it basically was, and just cupping her perky, little, round breast, squeezed inside that thing.

You move your hands away from the weights. “Then we’ll start without weights and just work on form. Once you do twenty perfect, we’ll start with weights. Okay,” you instruct. “Hands at your sides, arms limp. Step out a foot and a half, roughly the length of your femur. Kneel down,” you tell her, stepping towards her and showing how just to do it. “Bend your forward knee to ninety and just beyond, your other knee should almost touch the floor. Then stand,” you show. “Nice and slow and steady. Working out is just like sex, I always tell my friends; it doesn’t matter unless you can go deep.”

Rainbow laughs, actually laughs. “You already said that, but,” she smiles. “I can dig it.” She lowers her shoulders and relaxes her arms, perfectly performing the exercise.

“The free weights are to reinforce your stabilizing core muscles.” You mirror Rainbow, stepping towards her with the opposite leg, your knees nearly touching with every repetition. “It always helps when you use them to try to keep them firm in your grip and not just hang in your fingers. That’s how you get strong forearms, besides working them specifically.”

“I can dig that, too. How’d you get to know so much about working out, Jake?” she asks, nearing ten reps.

“College,” you tell her. “I switched majors, remember?”

“Yeah. So much for going in with me on the commision.” She finishes her twenty and stands up. “Good enough?”

“Yeah, grab fifteens and then give me some twenty-fives. But, no. I have a good friend in the military, and he said he was miserable. He-”

“Hates getting told what to do all the time, we had this talk.” Rainbow hands you your weights and takes her own. “You know I didn’t make it, right?”

You stop, mid lunge, nearly falling over, weight thudding on the ground as you catch yourself. “No! I had no idea, I saw you in uniform just a week ago at that speech Princess Twilight gave. So, you made it on another deal?”

“Yeah,” Dash informs you, starting another set. “I studied hard and managed to somehow get a hundred on the reserve’s entry exam. That’s pretty much the only way to make it on the test, I hear.”

“Well,” you reply, working on lunge number five. “That’s fantastic. I didn’t take you for a brainiac.”

“What, college dropout doesn’t scream ‘bookworm’ to you?” she asks sharply, forearm veins popping as she squeezes hard on the weights. Did she have that much muscle years ago?

You breathe deeply and smoothly, mirroring Dash for the rest of the set. “So, how’d you pull that hundred out of your tight ass?”

She stands, like you, chest rising and falling, her face stuck on a cutty glare.

“What?” you ask after a second, holding onto the pair of free weights.

Rainbow shakes her head and drops her eyes as she drops her dumbbells on the rack, nearly slicing your fingers. “Nothing, Jake.”

You watch her wipe off her weights and pluck up twenties.

“Nothing it is. Try to go slower and deeper. Breaking ninety isn’t bad for your knees if you keep yourself straight.”

She does, a pouty tension lingering between the two of you. Twenty lunges later, you upgrade to thirty pounds, Rainbow to twenty five, again wiping off the weights. “Do you have a membership here or something?” you ask as lightly as possible. “This has to be the smallest gym in town.”

“It is, of the two of them. Ponyville isn’t that big, but it’s growing.” Rainbow’s slighted tone seems less so, but you better not stomp around on thin ice. “And,” she continues, breathing steadily, sweat making her pink face begin to shine. “I don’t. Why pay when you saved the owner’s life? That’s membership enough for me. Old man Trotter insists I use his gym. ‘Think of it like a sponsorship!’ he said that day way back when. Idiot doesn’t understand that I’m not out there flying the Trotter banner in the Bolts, or when I’m out doing… whatever.”

“Saving Equestria?” you reply, watching her legs. “Watch your feet, keep everything perfectly straight.”

“Ah,” Dash grunts, standing for the twentieth time. “‘preciate the help. But don’t say that,” Dash starts, grabbing for her next set with one hand and rubbing her quad with the other. “I’m not fulfilling a prophecy like the princesses say with the elements, and all. I’m just, you know, having fun with my best friends, and doing what I can. Anyone would go out and fight an army of doppleganging bug-creatures, fight a ten-foot tall she-demon princess from the moon, a senile lord of chaos, save the Tree of Harmony, and, well,” she laughs. “I can’t say much for Tirek. That was mostly the magic nerd, I just helped.”

“Wow…” you mumble, remembering just how much the Bearers really did accomplish. “Well, you could teach me a thing or two on saving the world, but I think I could teach you a thing or two about squats.”

Rainbow smiles, her bright magenta eyes too gorgeous to look away from. You smile back, and just look, look into her eyes. Dash breathes first, her eyes dropping and her face flushing. “Heh, yeah,” she replies, standing tall again. “Are we finished with lunges, then?”

“Sure, let’s ease into things, today. Let’s rock some squats, resisted calf raises, bench, shoulder press, kill your arms, then round it out with some pullups and dips.”

“Fucker,” she hisses, looking away.

You stroll past her, and despite your best judgement, you give Rainbow a firm good game. Celestia, she’s much less firm than four years ago.

“HEY!” she shouts, her voice cracking, causing you to let out a short laugh. “You can’t just DO that!” Rainbow smacks you back, making you flex, leaving a sharp sting on your cheek.

“Oooh! Yes, ma’am, I like it! GET some!” You shout back bending over and grab the black bar from the bench rack, sticking your ass up in the air. Rainbow’s furious face is on the verge of cracking up. “Ve ah goheen to lift ze hef-vy zeen, ya?”

You drop the metal bar back on the rack and look to either side, thinking. “How much can you handle?”

“How much can you?”

“Oh I’m a lil bitch, my twig legs can barely do the bar,” you lie outright, loading each side with forty-fives, reverse curling the round weights a few times as you do so.

Rainbow, smiling steps around in front of you. “Well, bitch legs. Show me how it’s done.”

“Alright, stare at my ass and learn.” You heft the bar and turn around to face the mirror. You drop the bar to the floor and talk as you do. “Squat down, get the bar up,” you tell her, hoisting the weight and resting it on the back of your neck. “Begin with your knees over your toes, which are just about shoulder width and pointing out at a forty-five. Ass back as far as you can, feet flat on the floor, push outwards with the balls of your feet, dig them into the floor. Look,” you flex your legs and feel tension shoot up the back of your legs, your glutes tighten up. “You should feel your butt turn to steel, that’s good. Keeping your back straight, unbend your knees, keeping your feet out like this.” You begin to stand, your head staying up, your chest coming back and your ass forward. “Focus,” you tell Dash. “Do it in one smooth motion, remember your feet. That’s where it all starts. Then, just bring it down, forcing your feet apart.” You push the bar above your head and drop it on the floor in front of you.

“You can do that much weight, right?”

Rainbow nods, smiling, face pink. “I can,” she says simply. “Spot me close, though. It’s been a minute since I did big girl squats.”

You help her get the bar on her neck, but that’s it. You touch her spine and pull her shoulders back. “Feet,” she moves her toes out. Rainbow’s tight shorts get tighter as she lifts her butt up, you watch closely as the fabric stretches over her strong thighs. You try to focus on the rest of her, correcting her bent back once, but can’t stop staring.

“Try to go deeper.”

“Doesn’t matter unless,” she began with a smile, trying hard to breathe evenly.

You don’t need to correct her at all for the next twenty squats. Her round butt took control of your circulatory system in the process, directing all your blood between your knees. You discreetly ensure everything is tucked away, but a discerning eye could certainly spot a bulge.

“Awesome,” you tell her as the bar drops from her shoulders to the floor with a clang. “Get a sip of water, then we’ll bump it up.” You catch her eyes looking at yours for a second, a cocky grin wide across her face. She gives a quick wink as she strolls off, and you swear she was swaying her hips.

You Inhale sharply and try not to think about her bending over and using her lips to suck up water. You grant yourself one quick, incognito adjustment, that’s it. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been quite this hard. You watch Dash stand up in a mirror and place your hands on your hips, biting your cheek until you taste blood (there was blood in other parts of your body, after all). “Ready?” you ask, averting your eyes.

“For the same weight?” she retorts with attitude. “I thought we were ‘bumping it up’, Jake.”

“Right,” you reply, evenly, forcing yourself not to look stupid. “Get that side,” you tell her reaching down for a five-pounder, catching your head on the side of another weight.

Rainbow holds back most of a giggle, but still looks at you. She slides another weight on the pole, an image you didn’t and absolutely did need to see. “You alright?”

“Just pumped,” you laugh back, feeling your temple. It wasn’t a hard bump by any standard.

“Alright,” she says skeptically. “Do something more than stare this time,” she says over her shoulder, adjusting her grip and stance, her ass already tight. “Aren’t you getting paid?”

I’d pay to watch this, you think to her, squatting down to look at her fingers as they firmly wrapped around- You stand up and pretend to cough. “Move your hands out so that your first finger is on the smooth part, here,” you show her. “If that’s too wide, move it back. Once you know a bar well enough you can just grab it how you know will be good.”

“Ha, phrasing,” Rainbow murmurs.

You roll your eyes and try not to think about it. “Okay, walked into that,” you laugh. Rainbow adjusts her grip, biting her lip for just a second. It’s a second, but it’s still Rainbow Dash biting her lip.

She pushes her butt out and stands up slowly, her left knee shaking. “Push your foot out. It’s not taking away from your butt muscle group, it’s completely separate, but it lines up everything.”

Rainbow grunts and follows your instruction, her posture returning to perfection. “Exactly,” you tell her. “Keep THAT stance. Go all the way down, nice and slow and smooth.”

You coach her closely, inspecting her to the last detail. Her muscles are strong, but her glutes are definitely underworked. Plenty of exercise, just not focussed on the important part; not focussed on her sexiest part. Four years ago, her ass was much more firm, you know it. Maybe it had a little less mass, more sleek, but her butt has the potential to really boom.

Rainbow only gets to fifteen, but that’s okay, she went up in weight, and the two of you were working toward finding limits today, anyway. “Jake,” she says, sitting on the bench. “You’re not just doing this to get in my pants, are you?”

You shake your head and lean on the bar rest. “I didn’t. I didn’t know you signed up until I was on my way here, today. In fact, I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I guess I did,” Rainbow smiled, despite her words, softening their blow, but they were still sharp. “I never got why you never wanted to go in with me.”

“I wanted to, believe me,” you reply. “I just, had trouble committing. Five years in the Wonderbolts? That’s a bit much. Being a pilot would be so kick ass, but,” you laugh and look down. “I’m not cut from the same cloth, ya know? My grades barely let me be a corpsman, you know.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, leaning back against the opposite pole. “I had to get about six waivers, all for school, just to get the reserves.” She picks up one foot and rests it close to her butt on the bench, her other leg resting long along the edge, inadvertently showing off her legs, her tight, tight shorts showed her panty line. “I’m glad our paths crossed, Jake,” she says, slapping your fingers lazily with her own. “It’s crazy to see how much you’ve changed.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, ready to counter with ‘saving the world a dozen times’.

“Shoulders, chest, arms, abs, ass, legs and back,” she laughs, smiling. “Celestia… You must eat two pounds of steak raw and wash it down with a dozen raw eggs every morning.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, well I work out,” you mumble back coyly. “It’s cutting season, though, so I’m down to one pound and a half dozen.”

Rainbow rocks forward to sit up, her face six inches from where your rigid manhood is throbbing, begging for her mouth. It’s so close…

“Come on, Jake,” she says. “Tell me. Is my ass as good as you remember?”

You cough and wobble the support back and forth like a shifter in neutral. “Want me to be honest or tell you what I think would get me laid faster?”

“Ah!” she scoffs. Rainbow bites her lip and punches your thigh, her eyes looking down at your lap. You can’t stop thinking about resting your hand on her head as she goes down. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I want the honest truth. Tell me.”

“Not as firm, little bit bigger.” You nod and look at the floor. “Back when you were training in college, you were a lot more into cardio, I think, and that sprinting and running helped get your butt lean.”

“Yeah,” she frowns, feeling her butt as she sat there, looking up at you, just like as if she was on her knees. “The academy food was so filling, and they made us do distance runs so much. Taking off from the gate took leg strength.”

“Get it back.”

“Yes, sir,” Rainbow said too smoothly, looking into your eyes as she got up, hand on your upper, upper thigh.

You breath out through your lips silently as she turns. Willpower lets you refuse to watch her bend over and increase the weight another ten pounds. She grabs the bar and lifts it back onto her shoulders, adjusting her stance. She moves her toe in a little too much so you step in front of her to stop her. “Left foot,” you say. “Back straight, shoulders high, Dash.”

She dips her head and looks forward, face coming down towards your waistband; then her eyes pop open. “Are you hard?” she whispers, looking up, smiling like she just heard a naughty secret.

You nod and chew on your lip, tasting blood again. No sense in hiding it, now.

Dash goes redder in the face, then stands up slowly, her form good, as far as you can tell, even if blood is drained from your brain. She’s just a foot from you, holding one hundred and fifty-five pounds of iron on her shoulders. “Pull it out,” she mouths at you, smiling like an evil little kitten. She pops her butt out and drops, feet pushing apart.

You breathe hard through your nose and hook your thumbs in your waistband, looking at the lobby area. Blossomforth is watching, but a leg machine is in the way, you think, of your lower body. You raise your eyebrows at her, getting a flirty wave. You focus on Rainbow, who is standing again, grunting softly as she is erect again, about six inches shorter than you. “Come on, Jake,” she whispers, almost begging, you think, and hope. “I just want to see it.”

No, you want me to fuck you raw right here on the gym floor. You can’t stop the dirty thoughts. There was no way she was just going to ‘see it’. You lower your hands as she squats down, her back still straight. You expose the shaved skin where your happy trail leads and about half an inch of your vertically trapped erection, but that’s it, then Dash comes up. She pretends to faint in front of you, keeping her movements slow and smooth. She drops even slower this time, you’ve forgotten what repetition. You pull your shorts and underwear down to reveal the tip, popping down out of your shirt. Dash audibly gawks, her shoulders dipping to one side. You pull your shorts up and bend down to straighten her, just a small tremble.

“Focus on your feet,” you softly say in her ear.

“Fucking how?” she hisses, looking up at you with a white-toothed smile. “Show me more,” she whispers in your face as she stands. “Wanna meet me in the shower after this?” she asks, going down, looking up and sticking out her tongue, sighing “ah”.

You pull your shorts down and reveal two more inches of your hard, veiny cock, now aimed down a pant leg. Rainbow stands up and looks down at it, shuffling closer a quarter step. “Oh my fucking goddess.”

Rainbow squats again, and again, watching your waistband slowly drop and reveal a fully erect penis. Your dick can’t help but throb and drip a little precum, which you promptly wipe into the floor with your shoe. “You still have a hair trigger?” you ask as she stands up again, breathing shakily, but her form is good. “Breathe, girl, deep and smooth, just like how I fuck.”

Rainbow looks up into your eyes and nods, biting her lip, hard. “I’m…” she squatted deep, sucking in a deep breath through her nose at the bottom, nearly touching your pre bead. She stands and moans softly as she exhales, her form absolutely perfect. “I’m so fucking horny,” she whispers in your face, smile wide and brow showing her desperation. Rainbow bites her lip and looks over your body. She shuffles forward a few inches, and you stand statue still. “Gynecologist even said I might have a condition. Nothing bad, or wrong, just, extra sensitive. And easy to get soaked, too. Drenched the chair a few times.”

“Cute doctor?” you ask her.

“Sexy lieutenant commander,” Dash shrugs, weights clinking. “She had the best way of stroking my g-spot, got me squirting in no time.” The girl in heat squats one more time, looking up as she goes down. Despite the little voice in your head, you don’t step back and keep your professional distance. Instead, you stand your ground, watching closely as Rainbow Dash opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out. She laps up your precum and stands slowly, her shoulders steady, back straight and butt firm. She shows off your fluid and shuts her mouth. Maintaining eye contact, she swallows, loud, then shows her clean tongue. You shake your head and try not to react physically beyond biting your cheek. “Girls’ locker room, now.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered through her teeth with intensity.

“Rack your weights and don’t make too much noise when I fuck you raw.”

“No rubber?” she asked in a hushed, desperate tone, smiling.

You just shake your head and slip your dick back into your waistband.

Rainbow Dash struggles with both racking her weights and walking calmly and steadily to the locker room. You notice then that her black bike shorts are a little darker at her crotch, and, somehow, her inner thighs are glistening, as if wet.

Blossomforth had turned around and was playing a new game of solitaire. You swallow and head to the girl’s, thankfully opposite the boy’s. You stick your head out, and, finding the coast clear, slip back in.

Rainbow faces away and slips her top over her head. She turns and sits down with her legs wide on the end of a bench, her small, perky breasts out with pointy pink nipples. There’s no point in playing cool. You dive down to your knees and pull her shorts down to her ankles and wrap her thighs around your face. Rainbow Dash grabs your hair and holds on as your tongue tastes her hot, hot pussy, still sweet and salty. Rainbow’s labia is so warm and soft, waxed smooth on your tongue, so fresh, wet, delicious, flavorful. You groan and pick her up by her fat ass, hunching over as you straddle the bench and dive your tongue into her lips. You pull her tiny “fuck me” panties aside and dive your tongue in deep, but it only takes a few seconds of vigorous tongue-fucking before her thighs clamp around your ears and begin to squeeze. Hard.

Her shaking legs relax to a weak shiver, her throat squeaking and chest rising and falling erratically and shallowly under your groping palm. You lick your soaked lips and molest her small breasts, then pull her tiny shorts off and throw them to the side. You spread her legs wide and pull your own shorts down, your rigid cock bouncing with every heartbeat. “You are still on a hair trigger. I like it.”

“Shut up and fuck- WHAT THE FUCK?!” Dash covers herself and goes rose red, her legs closing in an instant. You look over your shoulder, fearing the worst, and see her. Blossomforth is standing, hand flying from her tight pants, blushing hard as well.

“W-wait!” she stutters. “It’s cool! It’s cool! I won’t tell! I’m going!”

“Wait!” you shout, taking control, turning your upper body and hips, rigid dick in view, purposely. You let it throb in her eyes for a moment, her face flushing hard, Blossomforth’s stance is primed to bolt. “You promise?”

It’s crazy, but letting her watch might just be the only chance of keeping it a secret. Rainbow doesn’t need the publicity, and you could do without a scandal. Blossomforth’s face is crimson. “Mmm hmm,” she says, nodding her head, holding her hands behind her back, her heels returning to the tiled floor.

You take a few short breaths, heart racing, adrenaline surging, cock throbbing, the pink helmet bulging as your heart pumps blood powerfully through the organ. “Okay,” you say deeply to her. “Go, lock the front and come back here. You can watch,” you say turning back to Rainbow. Is that okay? you mouth to her. Dash’s magenta eyes are wide as plates, her face red as well. She’s breathing rapidly, but her pussy is leaking. Was she always this wet?

Blossomforth stumbles out of the locker room. You kiss Rainbow the second she leaves, shoving your tongue into her mouth before she can protest. Rainbow moans and holds your face in shaking hands. She pushes you up and looks into your eyes, brows angry. Her palm connects hard with your cheek, her fingers strike your temple. Her lips meet yours messily before you can react. She sucks on your lip and moans softly, her feet wrap around your waist. “Mmmm,” she moans softly. “We should really fucking get together after this,” she whispers.

“Lets go to your place and fuck all night, just like our college days.”

“Good cardio,” she whispers, then shoves her tongue in your mouth. Her hand reaches down and grabs your wet cock to rub her dripping lips. “After you fuck me here, though.”

You suck her lip and molest one small, perky, squishy breast and dip your hip down. Rainbow’s just as tight as she was in college. Once half your hard dick is inside her, you can’t help but think of how much you missed her and the number of partners she has had since. You moan and sink all the way inside, flushing all those annoying, nasty thoughts away. Your tip spreads her tight vagina, exposing relatively dry skin, but once you bottom out, you pull back and dive in again, fixing that problem. Your drenched cock wetly slides back and forth, making Dash tense up and grip your shoulders.

“Ah, Jake,” she whispers, her head falling back to the bench with a thunk. You grin and lick your wet lips as you begin to drill her. Rainbow’s feet cross behind your back and pull you into her desperately. Her tough face screws up with desperation as you hilt inside her. “Yes!” she hisses, back arching. You hold the small of her back with one free hand and roll your hips faster and faster. Due to the infrequency of sex as of late, your balls, aching for release, tense up far before you think they were due.

“Rainbow,” you groan, pulling out. “Too fucking good.” You hold your throbbing cock and wince as you can’t hold back. You grip firmly and tug on your manhood twice until your core muscles clench tight and your cock explodes a hot volley, eight or so long ropes. Rainbow catches them with slutty grace, smiling from ear as you pump lines of thick cum all over her stomach and breasts, two reaching her face and slapping her lips. She licks at the mess and smiles.

Rainbow pants with you, rubbing her clitoris for a little while. “Holy shit,” she pants, just as out of breath as you. “What the fuck, Jake? We just fucked in a fucking locker room!”

“It was hot, though,” you tell her, planting a hand beside her head on the bench. “Lets hit the showers and get out of here.”

“D-do you mind?” came a familiar voice.

Rainbow laughed and wiped her chin with a finger. You turn and see Blossomforth dropping her tight shirt. Her C-cup breasts hide behind a hand, you had not realized she was that busty before. She had love handles, even slight as they were, and a bulge in her belly that told of either snacky diet habits, lazy workouts, or some combination of the two.

“Get the hot water going,” you tell her, leaning to the side to show off the mess of Rainbow Dash.

She gulps and smiles, then nods and walks off, still hiding her unshaven womanhood. “Did you see her bush?” Rainbow mouths with a disgusted, exaggerated frown. You can’t help but laugh silently and look up, watching her round ass walk to the showers.

Rainbow rolls off the bench and groans, feeling her vulva. She shuffles to her locker and pulls out shower shoes, a loofa, and bottles of shampoo and soap. “Hope you like lavender,” she sighs. “Twilight got it for me. Don’t ask.”

“I love lavender.” You rear back and slap Rainbow’s ass, full force, a meaty snap resounds throughout the locker room, followed by a high-pitched yelp.

Instead of retaliating and attacking you, Rainbow’s knees buckle, her jaw locks up and she hisses in pain, unable to respond for a long second. “Jake!” she whines, rubbing her ass. “Mmph!” Her and her red face saunter to the entryway to the shower, then Dash bends over and throws her ass out. “Well?” she asks over her shoulder shortly. “Gonna even out the fucking redness?”

You smile and rear back again, not holding back an ounce. She nearly falls face-first into the open showers. You laugh and walk closely behind Rainbow, holding her hips as she breathes shallowly under a stream of hot water.

“Well?” you say to Blossomforth. “Are you gonna let Rainbow scrub all the cum off her body all by herself?”

“Jake!” Dash breathes over her shoulder, eyes shut, body reacting to your hands cupping both one of her perky little boobs and her waxed vulva.

“I- uh, okay,” Blossomforth stammers. Her bright hair clashes with the dark blue tiles of the showers. Her wet body is larger than Dash’s, but not nearly as desirable. Her hips are slim and her back and waist both carry a little too much fat. Rainbow is much more lean, but no popsicle stick. You stroke her sides and press your hardening manhood up between her round ass cheeks.

You bend your head down and whisper in her ear, rubbing in the soap her shower poof is applying to Rainbow’s slim, sexy body. “You’re the sexiest girl in the world, Rainbow.” You bite her ear and cup her wet, waxed lips. A small groan escapes your lips.

Rainbow’s shoulders dip down and her ass presses back into your lap. You stroke her vulva as Blossomforth gets on her knees, pretty bangs pulled back to lay on her scalp. “AH!” Rainbow yelps, her shoulders straightening right out.

You massage her perky, firm little breasts some and slip your hard cock down between her firm, big butt, the tip poking Blossomforth’s chin. She recoils, too, and dives right back into Dash’s hairless pussy, eating her out apparently quite well. Over Rainbow’s shoulder, you watch Blossomforth’s deep magenta hair, just darker than Rainbow’s eyes, her head bobbing up and down gently as she eats out the pussy you were just inside.

“What do you think about this?” you ask Dash, squeezing her ass hard, then slipping a wet finger to circle her clean little anus.

The athletic girl is caught between a cock and a horny woman, unable to escape. “Jake,” she breathes. “Fuck my ass,” she commands in a silken tone over her shoulder. “I know how much you love it.” Rainbow drapes a leg over Blossomforth’s shoulder and cups your face. “Get that cock nice and wet in my puss, first, though. Water… not good for lube.”

“I remember,” you groan in her ear, feeling her hand guide you to where Blossomforth was devouring Rainbow’s hot little pussy. You penetrate her ass with a finger and push Blossomforth out of the way with your dick, only to feel her lips wrap around your tip, her moaning mouth vibrating your tip. She licks your wet shaft and reaches under to cup your balls. You watch Rainbow’s hand push her cute, wet face back, the slut was thirsty. You bend your knees and reach around to push your tip inside Rainbow’s hotter pussy, moaning in her ear at the sensation. “Ah, Rainbow Dash,” you whisper and bite her earlobe. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Missing you,” she whimpered, then licks your cheek and kisses your face blindly. You gyrate your hips and fill her with your manhood, hilting inside her tight, wet pussy. You fuck her, Blossomforth molesting your balls and sucking Dash’s clit, until you can feel an orgasm close. You pull out and smear her pussy juice on her asshole, then push in the tip before the shower can rinse away the good pussy lube.

Her asshole is just as tight as it was in college. Rainbow’s shapely hips shake, and the girl between her legs holds her ass fast. Her big butt slaps your hips gently as you shove your wet cock all the way inside, causing her to reflex and tense up. “Ah!” she groans, hands randomly tensing. “A-aaahhh, Jake!” Dash squeaks. You cup her breast and grip her hip in either hand and give her a few gentle, rolling thrusts. Rainbow takes it well, until you pick up the pace. Both her hands fly to Blossomforth’s head and pull her into her crotch, more of her weight resting on the worker girl. You hump faster, her tight little rim slipping over your wet dick is too good. You groan in her ear and pick up the pace again. Dash is a wet, tense mess, her shoulders tweak and twitch, her hips gyrate and spasm, her legs pudding and her arms stiff. Her toes curl and her throat catches, you hold her tender neck and hump up into her, just waiting, listening to your body’s signals. Her anus feels so good, gripping your dick tight, pushing and pulling on the organ as it slips over your wet skin. Inside is so soft and warm, too.

Rainbow is loving it. You suck air over her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair and keep up the pace. Your swinging balls begin to climb up towards your body and you can’t take it. Her ass is too good to stop, though. You hold her neck and shove your cock inside, her spasming and gasping drawing your hard dick to climax.

“M-MMrruh, Dash!” you grit your teeth as your rocket fires inside. Cumming in her ass feels so fucking good, mind-numbing, everything-numbing. Only in her asshole have you ever experienced the joys of not pulling out. You exhale at last and pull your hips back to a normal standing position, breathing hard through your nose. You stand still and let her recover.

Dash arches her back and looks over her shoulder. “T-the fuck? That was too good! Ah!” You feel your cock slip out of her tight little ass, instantly freezing in the hot shower air, her magenta eyes cross and her shoulders buckle and she bends over. You look down and watch Blossomforth, two fingers inside Rainbow’s back door, playing with the cream drooling down. The red little ring gapes a little when her fingers pull out, covered in white cream. Blossomforth laughs quietly and plays with the mess, spray from the shower slowly rinsing it away.

Dash bowleggedly steps over the squatting Blossomforth and gives her a “good girl” pat on the head. You are pulled to her by your shoulder and fall to the wall, pinning her with a kiss. Not a fairytale romantic kiss, but a throat-filling, moaning, groaning, filthy, vile frencher. Rainbow’s legs wrap around your waist, her round butt cheeks squish around your hard grip. Your muscles are taught, she is molesting your sides and neck and deltoids and back, her heels press into your gluteus.

She breaks from the kiss to breathe, but you relentlessly kiss her face and neck, devouring her, gasping for breath. Blossomforth sneaks in to kiss your girlfriend and you, but she’s a third wheel if ever there was. She kept whimpering, mumbling. You are too busy groping Rainbow and tongueing her mouth. Her feet return to the tile and her hands slide over your body. They go down to cup your manhood. The thick member covered in cum and filth is hard again, even if it aches from so much use. Rainbow massages your spent sack and coaxes every ounce of softness out. You groan watch her get to her knees, eager to see her throat herself on your hard-

Blossomforth slaps your face with her open palm, loud enough to echo. The world grows again from just Rainbow Dash and her amazing body to the enclosed girl’s showers, the falling water, and the shrinking girl with a bright head of hair.

She gulps, her body has never been smaller. “S-sorry,” she mutters aloud. “But, you need to get out of here.”

“What?” you huff, your cheek starting to sting. She caught your temple nice and square with the meat of her palm. “Round three!”

“No, no round three! Missus Cake always comes at one to sweat off her mommy fat!”

“Round three,” Dash whines, slouching back against the wall. “Get dressed, Jake. Let’s take the party back to my place. Tell Trotter something came up.”

“What time is it?” you ask. You peek your head around the corner and look for a towel. Dash comes out with you, limping and wincing, holding your package from behind as you towel off. She kisses your body, caressing your balls and tugging your cock with vitality.

The other girl lifts her watch and holds her own towel to her pussy. “Um, fifteen… after.”

“Where’s Mrs. Cake, then?” Dash asks, taking the towel and hurriedly dries your lower body, doing a thorough job between your legs. You’re already slipping back into your shirt.

“Idunno!” Blossomforth mumbles with worry. Rainbow uses her towel as you shove your feet through your shorts. You rest on a bench and pull your socks and shoes on. Next is Dash, who you help pull her shorts on, only realizing after staring at her round ass that the two of you forgot the panties. She stuffs them in her bag as you turn for the door.

“Wait, Blossomforth,” you say to her. “Go first, make sure no one’s watching. If someone is here, draw their eyes away and give me a signal. Something, drop a weight or clank something.”

She does, almost forgetting her shirt. Her boobs were so much bigger than Rainbow Dash’s-

“Ow!” Dash catches your wandering eye with a pinch on your ass. “Hey now,” you turn to her, grabbing her hair in a fistful, drawing her mischievously grinning face to yours.

Rainbow holds the obvious tent in your pants firmly, sticking her tongue out as she strokes you. “You know what’s hot? A hard cumshot, right through some clothes.”

“Not as hot at not walking around all day with a gigantic stain on your shirt.”

Rainbow teases, dipping your enwrapped dick into her shorts, still jerking you off. “Jeez, it’s so fucking hot.” Dash stares at your manhood, held in her stroking hand.

“Easy, girl, you don’t want me to-”

“Come on, nymphos,” Blossomforth calls from the doorway. “It’s clear!”

“Thanks, Blossom!” Rainbow yells out. “Who’s she callin’ a nympho? She just ate me out- at work! And she doesn’t even know you! Didn’t she suck you off?”

“I forget,” you tell her, spanking her to get her body moving. “I lost track of lots of things when I was waist deep in your ass.”

“Still tingles,” Rainbow hisses, failing at walking straight. “Want a hand job in my mustang on the way to my place?”

* * *

Rainbow’s home was even more upscale and extravagant than her aunt’s place back in ritzy Canterlot. You don’t get much time to admire the decor as you slam the door behind you and drive Rainbow into the first clear wall you see, fingers pulling at her shorts and top, tongue in her mouth. Her body is just as warm as yours. You tango with her and negotiate a way to take your clothes off, then hers, her hands unable to let go of your erection. She tugs on it with intent, not caring for limits or endurance.

You lift her legs high, feet around your head, back against the wall, and slide your hard dick deep into her drenched pussy. “Ah!” she squeaks, holding your face weakly. You gyrate your hips and dip all the way inside, then pull back. Her hot hole slicks every inch of your cock, bathing it in velvet bliss. Her soft flesh on your rod squeezes gently, the entrance tight, her walls yield.

“Gah, Dash!” you breathe in her ear. You bump her harder, making her head hit the wall, but you don’t slow down, just look her in her magenta eyes.

She’s grinning, arching her back, ankles crossed behind your head. “Bedroom, upstairs, condoms,” she mutters. “Now! Don’t you dare knock me up!”

“I’ll pull out,” you groan down to her, but Rainbow’s legs bend, her knees near her head as she plants her feet on your shoulders, her flexible, strong body pushes you back and her into the wall.

Her stern face is impossible to argue with. “I’m gonna pound you into oblivion.”

“You fucking better.”

You treat the hardy girl like an ornery mule and drop her to the floor. She falls with a thump, getting up, rubbing her ass, indignantly scoffing. “JAKE!” she yells, but can’t keep up with her limp. You fly up the stairs and find her room. The walls are covered in military propaganda, the carpet is visible, no clothing department disaster aftermath like her place in Canterlot. Even her bed is made. “Do you have a roommate or something, Da-ASH!”

You fall onto the king sized bed splayed, arms and legs wide, wet erection pointing to the ceiling. Dash flips on the lights and jumps onto the bed after you, wincing as she straddles your waist. “Nope,” she says, flipping her damp hair out of her face pointlessly, as she bends over to bring her face close to yours. “You’re lucky I like you so much, or else…” she trails off, distracted by her search of her nightstand for a condom. “Or else I’d break out the whips and leather.”

“You’re right,” you reply in a low voice, holding her amazing hips. “I am lucky.” You push on her body, bringing her butt down over your cock until the tip barely touches her wet, puffy lips.

“Ah, hold on!” she giggles, shuffling her knees together again, messing up the covers. “Gosh, you’re unbearable.” Rainbow climbs up and turns around to sit on your face. You smile and hold her round cheeks, pulling her pussy to your mouth. You flick her clit with your tongue right away. She reacts by squeezing her thighs around your face, but that is the opposite of a problem. You drag your tongue over her delicious skin, her pussy flows with natural lube. You bring a finger to her slit and dive in, feeling for her g-spot. The spongy-textured bit is firm and bulging, and Rainbow’s entire body begins to shake. You kink your neck to the side to make room for a hand, but it’s worth the feeling of Dash’s insides.

Finally, you feel something plasticy on your cock, then the tip is bathed in warmth. You pat Rainbow’s fine ass and she comes off your face, clear-ish fluids dripping down from her slit. “H-holy fuck,” Dash pants, laying on her side as she rolls the orange rubber down your cock. The reservoir tip stands on the head, a silly contrast to your serious hardness. “S-stay there, I’m on top.”

“Fuck yeah you are. Ride my dick like you mean it.”

“Giddy up, cowpoke.” Rainbow grins as she kneels down facing towards your feet and guides your hard, wrapped cock to her slit. “Ah,” she groans out, her shoulders hunching over as she slowly drops her wet pussy around you, her toes curling at your sides. The hard cock slides inside slowly, the meager lubrication of the ribbed condom mixes with her fluids and soon she’s bouncing on it like her life depends on it. She bends over and bites her finger, face on her blanket, lifting and dropping her round butt on your erection rapidly. She takes the whole thing, moaning and squeaking as she fucks away.

After a minute or so, she sits up and stands on her feet, turns around, knees bent and far apart as she leans back, both hands supporting her body. You grab her waist and guide her as you hump up into her wet, tight pussy. She was so much softer and hotter without the rubber, but it still feels great, a numbing sensation grows over your sex, making your orgasm seem far away.

One of her little hands begins to vivaciously masturbate her clit, so you pick up the pace. She’s breathing tiny, ragged breaths, her shoulders shaking. Suddenly, you jam your hard dick all the way in as hard as you can. Dash tenses up and stops breathing, her knees barely shaking. Her whole body convulses, her throat letting out a sharp moan. Then she explodes properly, crying out, her pussy gushing a hot squirting orgasm, her whole body twitching and spasming, her feet losing purchase as her balance is thrown out the window. You hold her to your body, dick still buried deep in her wet, clenching hole. The girl’s smiling lips rest on your neck, hot breath flowing over your skin.

Rainbow pants, her chest rising and falling, one of her sticky hands holds yours as you grab her small breast. “Jake,” she pants, smiling wide over her shoulder to you.

“Rainbow?” you reply, gently thrusting your hips, diving deep inside the girl.

She giggles and kisses your hand, then moves it to her crotch. “Nice and slow, now,” she moans. “Just came so fucking hard, and it feels great! But,” she sighs. “I want it nice and easy, okay?”

“If you insist,” you groan in her ear, gruffly grunting as you jab her cervix with the tip of your hard cock. She gasps and moans, but can’t contain her smile.

Rainbow arches her back and gyrates her hips up and down, opposite yours, your entire length sliding wetly in and out, her tight entrance squeezing your hard cock. “Mmm, yeah! Just like that, a little faster,” she sighs. Her hips undulate back and forth, taking every inch inside her wet cunt. Your hand wiggles her clitoris like a joystick. You bury your mouth in her neck and hump away, your hips slap her ass noisily and make it shake. You pick up the pace, sacrificing force for speed.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfucking hell, oh my FUCK!” Rainbow squeaks and tenses up, then her shoulders lurch forward and her ass falls on your cock, burying the entire thing. “G-gaaaAAAH!” Her body spasmed as she orgasmed again, squeaking out little adorable happy noises.

She sits up straight and bounces a little, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat coats her skin. “Holy shit,” she croaks. “Like that?” she asks, resting her hands on your shoulders, knees at your sides.

You nod back, resting your hands on her round ass. Dash takes it slow and strokes you deep with shallow movements, just closing her eyes and feeling it inside her. She reaches back and, showing her sexy face, touches her asshole with a finger. “Ah,” she moans, slowing down as she fingers herself. Her first knuckle pops in and out, in and out, again and again as she moves her hips faster, circling around. She drops herself suddenly on your lap, taking you to the hilt, moaning out as she lifts herself higher and drops down again.

Her slick thighs work hard to drop her sexy body up and down quickly, sliding every inch of your dick in and out of her tight, wet little pussy. The condom grips the base of your dick tight as you lie still and let Dash fuck you. She endures well, sweating, her legs shaking. You could easily take her waist and hump her hard, satisfy her, but then she would just get used to that.

Rainbow moans out louder, gyrating her hips forward and back, stroking you with a big smile, watching your face with those magenta eyes. “Gonna make me do all the work?” she panted, going steady and fast.

“You want a tighter ass, don’t you?” you reply hard, as if scolding her for even wanting you to let her be lazy. She just stares daggers, but goes a little faster, breathing hard. “You know you have to work it.” You crack a smile, her cute face is too much to be cold with, and she smirks, too.

She picks up the pace. “Cardio, too, right?” she pants, her little boobs bouncing on her chest as she rapidly rolls her hips up and down. She takes her finger out and rests both hands on her thighs, grunting as she focusses. You watch, the sensation of her tight pussy growing better and better. You wonder if you’ll cum before she needs to stop. This pace was no marathon, more of a sprint. Rainbow’s ass is flexing hard when she goes up and down like that. After the half-workout at the gym, this is the perfect way to finish the set.

“Ah!” Rainbow grunts, sucking air. “Feels, ah! So good! Ass, mmmah! Hurts! Aah Jake!” She tenses up, losing her balance and falls to the side. You let her fall onto the huge, bouncy bed and kneel behind her, twitching like crazy. You dip your rubber-coated dick back in her velvet pussy right away, not giving her sex a moment to rest.

You pluck up Rainbow’s sexy hips and pull her ass into your lap, groaning as you fuck her like a sex doll. “Ugh, we’ve got to get going soon back to the gym,” you tell her, slamming your hard cock all the way inside her.

“What?” she whines over her shoulder, the whole bed shaking as you thrust your hips and pull back on her waist, her legs limp.

You grunt again and begin fucking her tight pussy faster, her round, warm ass slapping your lap every second. “I gotta meet that Trotter guy, ugh, and you need to put in a good word so I can eat every night.”

Dash pants, her annoyed face glazing over. “Oh, yeah,” she moans, but in concurrence or numb pleasure, you’re unsure. Either way, you pull Rainbow’s knees more to her sides, making her kneel for a better position. You grunt and jab your thick, hard dick all the way inside her little cunt. Rainbow moans over her shoulder, watching your hard body rail her from behind. You go faster and faster, until it feels like your chest is on fire and your balls are ready to let your cock explode. Your sex organ tingles with numb sensations, your mouth flows with spit. You swallow and hump hard and fast, your rubber contains an excess of precum. “Fuck, Dash!” you grunt. “I’m gonna cum, where do you want it, bitch?”

Rainbow’s face dips to the blanket, she looks back, her cheek on the sheets. “F-face,” she moans, out of breath, even though she’s doing no work. You fuck her tight, wet, soft, velvety cunt until your cock is ready to explode a hot load.

“Ah! Open up!” you shout, pulling out and gripping your thick cock by the base. Rainbow flops onto her back, her mouth wide open, sexy lips smiling wide for you. The rubber of course handles your hot cumshot, but your tight grip and tugging motions stroke out as much cum as possible in a long, mind-numbing orgasm, the tip bulging out as long shots fill it.

Rainbow smiles at the cum well at the tip of your dick. The rainbow maned girl giggles and rolls onto her side to scoot all the way under your kneeling body. “Wow,” she breathes, stroking her puffy pussy lips. Dash bites the cum-globe at the tip of your rubbered cock. She pulls the condom off by her teeth, moaning softly as the rubber sheath falls on her nose and forehead. “Mmmm,” she sighs, chewing on the contraceptive. She really bites hard, her incisors slicing a hole open into the tip. Your spent cock throbs, coated in smelly, flavored condom lube.

Dash doesn’t care. She sighs and moans and masturbates as she chews on the tough latex. The wonderbolt groans throatily as she slurps out the sperm from the sliced rubber, leaving the cum-slicked sleeve on her chest. Rainbow gargles your cum for a moment, looking up from under your undercarriage, then swallows noisily.

“Mmmm,” she moans. “Jake, you’ve been eating tons of fruit, haven’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh, spent, thick cock wilting on the whore’s face. “Yeah,” you confess. “Cutting season. You’re a kinky fucking slut.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow pants with you, blushing and beaming. her sex wet, but you suspect she’s sore and spent by now. You flop to her side and pull her round butt into your lap. She giggles and moans softly as you kiss her earlobe and neck. “Mmm,” you moan into her ear, cupping her breast. “You love this, don’t you, Dashie?”

She merely nods, but you can hear the desperate pleasure in her throaty moans. Her round ass pushes playfully into your lap. You cup her breast and feel around the messy bed for your cell.

“Mmm, no,” Dash huffs, pulling your hand back to her breasts, the broken condom lying on the sheets. “Cuddle, just for a bit. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, Rainbow,” you grunt in her ear, followed by a short peck on her cheek. “But, I’ve got to get moving.” You roll over her sexy body and hop up, holding your head as your vision fades sharply for a moment. You pull your pants up as Rainbow watches, belly to the sheets and her feet kicking in the air.

Dash rolls her thighs back and forth, flexing her sexy ass. You can’t look away. “What are you gonna say to him?” she asks, looking you up and down.

“Dunno.” You smile at her, and she smiles back. The quiet of the room feels like a familiar old blanket. You linger, looking over Rainbow, her lean, sexy body prone on her big, wide, messy bed. “Fuck, I don’t wanna go,” you finally say.

Dash laughs shortly. “Go. You’ll only be gone for a sec, right?”

“Right. And I’ll have my phone,” you tell her, slipping your shirt on. Rainbow giggles as you turn it rightside out and check that it’s facing the right way.

Before you turn and go, you give Rainbow a kiss, despite your sanitary tendencies.

The drive takes forever. A moment away from her suddenly feels like ages. You check your phone the moment you arrive at the gym, just a half mile away, and find pictures of Rainbow posing in a few sexy positions, a few extremely slutty, especially her holding her reddened vulva wide open, showing the hot pink center off.

Thank Celestia she milked you dry.

Old man Trotter is waiting at the counter, the lecherous old man eyeing up Blossomforth. The girl seems to enjoy any and all attention, however, so you let the white-haired codger go on. Not much could break your stride at the moment, anyway.

“Afternoon!” he greets over his shoulder, the muscled geezer croaks, his scalp barely breaks five feet. He looked like a hard man, aged, known for his trade and his experience, if not his vices. “Jake, right?”

“Afternoon. Trotter?”

“Hey hey!” he grumbles. “Mister Trotter to you, boy. I might not be a corn-fed mother humper like the likes of you, but don’t think I haven’t earned your respect.”

“Sorry, mister Trotter,” you reply, a wide smile refusing to leave your face. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Late?” he spat, making Blossomforth wince. She’d likely have to mop that up. “You’re late, alright.” You look over his shoulder at the clock in the gym, reading two until four. “Two minutes, til? There’s a saying in the service. Early’s on time and on time is late. Late, well, better not show up.

“You’re lucky I like the cutta your jaw, kid. Hit the bench and lets see whatcha got.” His raspy voice had an undue authority to it, like disobeying would be fundamentally wrong. “Well?” he snaps, leaning back over the counter to look at the damp-haired girl with the tight t-shirt.

“Okay,” you reply submissively. You walk over, grateful you washed your hands before driving over. You rack up a total three-hundred pounds, a heavy set, and lie back on the bench. The stout grandpa squats behind your head, and you can nearly see a gnarly wad of phlegm nearly ready to come out of his hacking throat.

Trotter snorts, his wrinkled leather hide pulling taut as he sneers. “Alright double stuffed, knock out a set.”

You huff and grip the bar tight. You take a deep breath, ignoring his “pussy” under his chewing-tobacco breath. You push the bar up and lock your elbows, balancing the weight, feeling the bench beneath you, the deep padding tough to find a center on. You drop the bar to your chest and propel it upwards, pulling it back down once it reaches the apex.

“Come an!” he snarls, and you grit your teeth, knocking out fifteen before he gets angry. “That all ya got?! Push out more!” It takes grunting and yelling and face-reddening exertion to the point of exhaustion, but you manage twenty-one full-strength reps.

You sit up and let your arms rest. “Ah! Fuck!” You feel a calloused hand slap your shoulder hard enough to rock you. You stand and move so the bastard can take your spot. “Yer gonna wanna get a towel. I’m a sweaty boy, heh heh.”

The short mossback pumped the bar off the rack, throwing his shoulders to just get it up and off. He was not lying about the sweat. After five cringe-inducing repetitions, his forehead was dripping and his collar was a far darker grey than his muscle shirt. By ten, he was cursing and grunting. By twenty, his veins were bulging so huge you were sure they’d pop out of his fragile-looking, leathered, over tanned skin. He grunted out twenty-five painful looking pushes.

“Guess,” he panted, catching his breath from the lying position.

You shrug. “What am I guessing?”

“My age,” Trotter grins, his short grey hair slick with sweat. “How far along am I on my human race?”

Again you shrug, showing your upturned palms. His muscled body bordered on grotesque. He was one of those short, stocky, chip on the shoulder types for sure, but to an extreme. “Fifty?”

“Sixty-eight, and still kicking your ass. Ask me how.” He sat up with a grunt, and you’re between flinching and reaching to help.

You gulp, ready to leave. “Um, how?”

Old man Trotter snorted and used his hand like a field hanky. “I never stop. Ever. I started lifting when I was getting picked on back in kindegarten, then in boot camp, I was doing the picking. Can’t be a canterlot guard when you’re five feet tall and weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. I ate my meat and potatoes and pushed myself, and graduated the damn academy top of the class, at least on the field. Then, my nastier habits caught up with me.”

“What habits?” you ask, helping him up with a firm clasp of hands.

The man laughed shortly and looked over his shoulder, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. “Wonder why I got a lazy twenty-year old working the counter?”

“Hey, she’s legal, right?” you retort with a laugh, getting another in return.

Trotter slaps his knee and looks up at you, his angry face smiling wide. “Ya know what she told me?”

You feel your face drain. “Uh, no, what?”

Trotter laughed with his raspy throat. “Ah, Jake, she had a great story all about how you bent a girl over in the shower earlier, and she played third wheel. Cracked me right up, boy.”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She must have some imagination.”

“What? You mean memory. Blossomforth ain’t the lying or imaginative type. Said you got to lay some rainbow girl’s pipe. Don’t right know what she meant by that.

“I’m all for some back scratchin on the company dime, but that’s the thing, boy. There ain’t no damn company dime to waste. If you’re gonna bang your clientele, you do it on your dime, capiche?”

You blink, your face red, caught without any chance of escape. His close way of talking had not changed since you met him. Trotter was a man who sure seemed to show all, tell all, but he was a poker player if ever there was one. He had a way of hiding his hand without you realizing. “What do you mean there isn’t a company dime? You’re not gonna pay me?”

“FUCK no I ain’t payin ya! Why the hell do you wanna be a personal trainer, to fuck MILFs and eat out of my damn pocketbook? FUCK no! If you wanna earn your way, you better get a check from your clients. I don’t give a shit if you make enough scratch, that’s on you. I made my own ‘til now, you can follow suit. I just paid a group of very angry, powerful greaseballs my last fucking dollar just to keep this fucking roof up, you feel me? There is no company dime. You wanna skate by? Go to the city. We work here in Ponyville.” Trotter finished with grabbing his towel and heading for the shower. You close your eyes and try to absorb what he said, not to get defiant. A slice of humble pie now would have to go a long way.

You take a deep breath and follow him. “Mister Trotter,” you call out, entering the locker room behind him. Had no other people showed up since you fucked here? No, this was the men’s. Rainbow and Blossomforth had been in the women’s.

The crotchety old man fanned his sagging features, wiping up after the workout. You divert your eyes, but the damage is done.

“Just nature, son. What, do you have a question or do you wanna watch me shower, faggot?” He grabbed up a bar of soap and made for the showers.

You look in the opposite direction. “I just wanted to know, is there a list of people signed up, or am I gonna have to do my own advertising?”

“What do you think, son?” he calls out, then turns on the water. You shake your head and step out of the locker room. You pass Blossomforth, eyeing her big tits shamelessly. You grab the door handle, but stop.

Blossomforth rests her round tits on her crossed arms. “Know anyone who needs a trainer?” you ask, hooking a thumb in the waist of your shorts.

* * *

You open the door and feel the full assault of painfully catchy guitar riffs. You undress as you walk back towards Rainbow's room, compelled to keep your sweaty clothes in at least a tight ball. “Hey,” she mumbles as you shut the door behind you, upbeat rock causes her foot to tap along her soft bedspread. Her eyes trace lines back and forth on a hardback not too thick in size.

“Hey yourself, Dash. What do you got there?” You slip into bed behind her and kiss her neck. She smiles, but barely acknowledges your groping hands on both breasts.

She moans softly, but only flips the page as you flick her earlobe with your tongue, rod stiffening between her round cheeks. The quiet music turns much more gentle and easy as you explore her body again. You pull her to you, press yourself into her, nothing is too close. You reach around and stroke her puffy vulva. “Good book?” you ask, kissing her cheek.

She nods, cheek red, smile wide. “Real good. Now, let me get to the end of the fucking chapter!”

“That good?” you ask in her ear, getting her to shake just a touch. You smile wide and settle in. You make out a few lines of the fiction. It’s all about a tense standoff in some giant, ancient courtyard. Equatorial heat and tropic humidity bathed the heroine in sweat, her olive skin slick and taught. Her young body was described in deep detail, so much so that you could almost taste the sweat on her full lips. You kiss Rainbow’s ear and skip a paragraph. The action broke, finally. With her trusty sidearm gone, she was left with a trademark whip and knife, standard adventurer’s gear. She got the bad guy good, from what you gather skimming, slicing his hand open deep. You skip on to something with a waterfall, but Rainbow flips the page. Her lips move with the words, and you read along. ‘... her saving grace. Daring Do clung to the wet rocks for dear life, her bag, still containing the priceless idol, hung by a thread around her neck. The archeologist swung her feet, then held her breath as she launched herself in a leap of faith into the water. “WoahaAAH!” she cried out as she fell a dozen stories, praying that she would find deep, calm water, free of jagged rocks.

She pierced the water feet first, her boots making quite a splash. Daring held her breath as she scrambled to find which way was up after such a grand fall. Her loose jacket floated around her shirtless torso, skin cooled by the clear river. She flailed, lungs burning deep, until she finally found herself breaking the surface. Daring Do sucked in air and spat about as she frantically fought her way to the shore. She found sand under her fingers and clung, clawed, and climbed her way onto the beach.

“Thank Celestia,” she panted, flopping onto her back, the slick, wet, dark skin of her chest and legs exposed to the high noon sun. Daring sucked a few breaths and gazed up to the top of the waterfall, watching a certain angry megalomaniac sulk back to his truck. “Take THAT, you albino creep!”

The archeologist sat up and plucked up her hat from the edge of the river, the brim saved her eyes from the harsh sun. She reached to her side and felt for the Ruby Rubicon of Raj-al-ubdal, but her fingers clutched at air for a few seconds until she realized: her bag, and the Ruby, were headed for the next fall.'

The chapter didn’t end, but Rainbow pounced anyway, flipping over and pulling you over her. “Come on, my big, strong, treasure seeker. I know you want to pin me down and take what’s yours.”

Rainbow giggled as you spread her legs wide, her puffy pussy lips red all over again. “Daring Do!” you mimic in a Germane accent, completely ignorant of the baddie’s origin story. “Du hast been a torn in mein side fur tzu lahng! Mein schwanz shall put an end to your, shall I say, adventuring days, hmm?”

“Okay, Christof,” Dash, giggles. “There’s pretty much no way to come across sexy with that accent, especially one that bad.”

“Silence! Dein schnitzel, mein schwantz!” You hold her grinning face and dip your hips down until your schwantz slips along her flowing river. “I bet you fantasize about being wet in the hot jungle heat, alone with a dangerous man and his dangerous desires.”

“Mmmf, why do you think I read Daring Do?”

“I didn’t know you did!”

“Do you?”

You shake your head. “I read the first one, sapphire stone? That was a few years ago. I never got how to say the bad guy’s name. Alizer, something like that. For a little while, I had a few fantasies about Daring Do, seeing her come back to Equestria on some puddle jumper, watching her undress and shower for the first time in months, then fuck her thirsty brains out...” You kiss Rainbow deeply, moaning softly as she moans herself, and press your hips forward, your cockhead sliding in easily. Her tight little pussy feels so hot, and her body shivers and shakes as you dip your stick nearly all the way in.

You slow up and hold off on hilting, kissing more. Finally, you press again, making her tense up. “How you doing, Rainbow baby?” you whisper.

She smiles, but her brow is tense. “S-sore,” she groans. “Keep going, Jake. It feels great, just hurts some. Come on, fuck me, really. Gently.”

You pull back and give her a nice, slow, gentle row, but she winces and holds you still for a few seconds. You pull back and try again, even slower, her tight, tight, hot pussy feels delicate around your hard shaft.

“A-ah, maybe just a blowie?” Rainbow pouts.

You slip your tongue into her lips and hold her close, your hands stroking her skin. You let her go and look at her sexy, frustrated face. “I love you, Rainbow.”

She smiles, blinks. Her eyelashes flutter just a bit, water welling up behind them, but she breathes and wills them away. “I love you, too, baby.”

You pull out and pluck her up, laying her on her side, moving in to spoon. You lift one leg up and pull your dickhead from around to rest on her vulva, trapped between her hot thighs as she shuts her legs. “Wanna keep reading?” you ask in her ear, nuzzling in behind her, smelling her girly shampoo. It was a great departure from the men’s brand she used years ago. Maybe her friends were a positive influence when it came to girly things. Still, she had that fiery tomboyness about her and her attitude to keep Dash, Dash.

Rainbow moves her butt around, teasing your shaft with her legs. “Mmm,” she moans, pouting. “Sorta sleepy. You wanna pass out with me?”

You cup her slightly sweaty skin, your combined body heat adding up under the thick blankets. “It’s only five,” you say to her. “Yeah. I do.”

Rainbow giggles as you squeeze her little breasts some. You groan softly in her ear, cock impossibly hard. She’s rather comatose, though, and a deep burning in your chest and arms is just tiring enough. You sigh in her ear and hug her tight one last time.

Fluttershy

View Online

“LAPDANCE!” Jake shouted, the nude girls and less than nude guys around the stripclub barely noticing through the heavy music. You cringe as two girls within earshot, one with red hair and the other blonde-ish, strut over. Ever since the first round of drinks, Jake had been particularly rowdy.

The first girl followed Jake’s airplane-trafficer signals to you and lifts one thin thigh and drapes it over your shoulder. “Special day, pal?” she asks, cupping one of her smallish breasts.

You nod. “Wedding.”

Both girls smile wide. “Wow,” the other says with faked enthusiasm. “Looks like you could use one last crazy night, huh?” She kneels and places her hands on your knees, spreading your legs wide.

“One-last-wild-night shot!” Jake hops up and jogs jovially to the bar. You gulp and look at the makeup-caked girl showing off the back of her throat.

“Been a long time coming, hun?” the first girl asks, her little voice raspy, like maybe she likes to use her throat for more than dirty talk.

You gulp and nod, your pants uncomfortable like the rest of you. You sit up and try to relax as the second girl, her tits much, much bigger, and hanging right over your crotch. One hand slides over your denim, pressing into the bulge aimed down your left thigh. “Whoever she is, she’s lucky to have this,” she said in her voice, lower and more sultry. She takes your hand and places it on the back of her head. “Does she suck you off good?” The stripper grabs an invisible pole and pretends to make love to it with her mouth, lapping the tip with her tongue. It’s all you can do not to grin and play along.

“Hey,” she the first stripper says in your ear. “Bachelor party, remember? Just get your wood and enjoy yourself. What’s your name, baby?”

“John,” you mutter, feeling a tongue on your cheek.

The thicker stripper’s hand slides up your pants and teases your erection. “Oh, John’s packing. ‘Til death doth you two part, sweetheart. She won’t be sleepin’ with the milkman.”

“How fucking baked are you, Candy?” the blonde girl giggled stepping down and sucking her body close to the other girl as she, too, stood.

They both held each other’s waists and showed their sexy bodies, barely covered in tiny strips of fabric. Candy and the other tongue kissed, dropping their skimpy bikini tops on your lap.

“Star,” Candy says, smiling wide as she sits in your lap, most of her weight on her feet, but enough of her fat ass is on your rigid shaft. “Come on, Star. If you were a narc, I’d be in cuffs right now. I’d be in cuffs if John felt spendy, too.” She giggled and gyrated her hips around, teasing your fully erect shaft. Her hips were so much more… slutty, than Fluttershy’s. Your fiance’s waist isn’t quite as slim, but her hips are debilitatingly massive, nearly too much to handle… but she loves getting handled so much. You grin and touch the sweaty small of Candy’s back, encouraging her, causing her to smile over her shoulder, flipping her hair out of her face dramatically.

Star kneels next to you, one leg up on the long sofa, the other extended and resting on the floor. The blonde stripper cups one of her breasts and looks up, smiling and swaying her hips to the deep bass. “Hey there,” she calls, showing off her tongue.

“Hey, hey!” Jake trots over, four plastic shot glasses in his fingers. “Come on, girls, let’s do some body shots!”

“Woo!!” They both cheer, gyrating their bodies as Candy lays across your lap.

She smiles and licks her finger, then drags it down her sexy body. “Come on, bachelor. You go first!” She pulls you down by the collar of your t-shirt. Star pours a little cup of tequila in Candy’s navel, and the stripper shrieks as she feels you slurp up the liquor from her stomach, her tiny bikini falling down. She drapes it around your shoulders and licks your chin clean. The burn of agave stings your lips, but there’s no time to rest as Star pulls you to her navel now, and you slurp up another spicy shot from her smooth skin. She was so incredibly hot, her sexy body had so many curves, but despite the erotic display and vapor of tequilla emitting from your breath, a certain pink-maned, busty, beautiful girl remains in your mind.

“WOOO!” Jake shouts, then goes right down to suck Candy’s sweet, milky skin. His hands dive all over the giggling girl’s hourglass figure, cupping and bouncing her big boobs as they hung to her sides.

She smiles and cheers him on, laughing as he laps up her big boobs like a cat at a saucer. “Get it, boy!” Star shouts resting her smaller boobs on his head. “Last one, John. Candy loves it when boys do shots from her huge tits.”

“I wouldn’t call these huge,” you mumble, grinning wide. Candy giggles as Jake swoons, pretending to be in love. Candy hefts her heavy breasts and shows off her throat as you rest your hands on her hips. She leans back and hands you the cup.

“Right here, big boy.” She slides a hand up and down between her sweaty, slick tits. “I bet you just want to feel your hard cock slide between my huge, warm, soft tits, so my long tongue can tickle your head.” She winks and drops her tongue down, bending her head, dipping her tongue into the cup of tequila between her round boobs. Your primal senses enjoy it. They enjoy it quite a bit.

“Too bad you’re taken,” Star whispers into your ear, her red bangs tickling your face. “Candy’s deepthroat is the fucking best… at least that’s what the boys say. No. Gag. Reflex. Ahg-” Star mimics swallowing a pole, smiling as you breathe a little faster.

Candy leans forward and smothers your face in her huge tits, serving up a dirty shot of tequilla. You hold back a gag and gulp down the dirt-flavored booze.

“WOOOOO!!!” Both Girls lean back and cheer you on as you reel and recover, coughing, struggling for a breath of hot club air.

You look up at the clap on your shoulder. “Hell yeah! Way to go, bud. You know how to party!” Jake sits an arm’s length from you and accepts the busty Candy into his lap, braless, big, round tits hanging from her chest. She slaps his hand away when he tries to grab, but giggles and lets him do it again anyway.

Star and her fiery red hair follow Candy’s lead. You rest your head back and feel the swirling inebriation begin to take hold. Star takes your hands from your sides and places them on her hips. “Come on, baby. You can take a few shots, right?”

You nod and try to smile. “Yeah, yeah I can take…” your head slumps, looking at the crack showing from the lip of Star’s tiny little red panties.

A set of little fingers grab your short brown hair and haul your eyes up. “Ya sure? Come on. Lucky bachelors need some special attention. Just think: when you’re married, you think you get pussy everyday.” She hops off your lap and stands on the bench, her knees on the edge, straddling your shoulders, her cameltoe just a tongue’s reach away. “But married men are my best customers.” She pulls her tiny silk panties aside without warning, showing off her set of puffy lips. The two mounds meet in a tight little line. “Remember this, Ron. Your fat cock will see it once a day for a week or so, but after a while, it’ll be once a week. Then once a month, if you’re lucky, then only your birthday, or Hearth’s Warming Eve, or anniversary or something.” Star dips her finger in and pulls it back out, smearing the bridge of your nose with her slime. The smell is awful compared to Fluttershy’s clean, sweet, womanly scent. You wipe your nose as she laughs.

“Ah!” You push her leg back as she giggles and sits on your lap, leaning back, showing off her small, perky tits.

Star leans back forward and licks the place where she made dirty, at least her breath smells like tequila, which is sterile. “You want some unclaimed pussy before you swear those vows, big boy?” she groans in your ear.

Again, you push her back, palm on her perky nipple. “Ah, no, no I’m okay. Just a lapdance.”

“Your loss, Donny. I’m soft as velvet, tight as a virgin, and it don’t take much to get me wet as the ocean.” She winks and stands up to shake her hips. Her dancing is actually extremely sexy, despite her… forwardness. From the corner of your eye, you see Candy straddling Jake’s legs, ass up, his fingers clumsily playing at her side-tie zebra print panties.

You look over the stripper’s body. Her big ass, big tits remind you of how Fluttershy’s been growing lately. You gulp and look back to the lithe stripper dragging her hands all over her body, bra in your lap. When did it get there? Her hips were puny, as were her tits, but she had a round, little ass. Her slender thighs remind you of Fluttershy on your first night. Her breasts filled out her dress, a perfect middle ground between the two archetypes here tonight. She had gained some weight in the years since, but it wasn’t all in the wrong space.

You gulp and feel your head spin with the heavy music. Star’s pussy would feel so good, and your cock was throbbing so hard. It would be as easy as following her by the hand to the street and getting a taxi to a cheap motel, using cash, which you had for tonight.

“Oh, Celestia, what the fuck am I doing?” you mumble out loud, rolling the shot glass around in your fingers, getting them sticky with liquor.

* * *

A tickle of fine hair on your nose wakes you, smelling of sweat and sweat body with a streak of perfume. A body stirs as you snort a breath, reeling back, eyes glued shut by the rough night. You peel them open, but shut them immediately against a blinding yellowish light. There’s a pinning pressure, and heat, entrapping your arm. You sniff and crack your eye again, leaning to sit up.

“Mmm, just a few more minutes,” a tiny voice whines. Your arm explodes with a sensation of pins and needles, spreading up from the fingertips. You grin and relax, pulling Fluttershy’s warm body to yours. You cup the little bit of flesh of her belly above her stunning pubis. You trace the lines teasing towards her soft, soft lips with a fingertip, only to slide that finger between her legs and stroke her lips like you know she loves. “Oooh, Johnny, baby,” she moans, twisting to push her butt more into your stiffening morning wood. “Aren’t we not supposed to do that before marriage?” Fluttershy giggles, so you kiss her neck.

You sigh and nustle up behind her, chin on her head. “If you think so. I think it’s a day late and a dollar short for that... “ you grin, flexing your finger and feeling her hot little clitoris.

She gasps suddenly, bucking her hips back reflexively. “Ah, oooohh, what time is it?”

You crack one eye again and squint to look at the clock. “Seven?”

“Forty.” Fluttershy yawns and rolls over on top of you, her sleepy face beautiful. “Have fun last night?”

You nod, wincing at the sharp pain the slight movement makes. “A little too much.”

“What did you do with Jake?” she asks and comes down for a morning kiss, her heavy breasts resting on your chest.

You stroke her hair, so soft and beautifully pink. You blink and try to think of the words. “I know… you said no strip clubs-” Fluttershy gasped, sitting up so fast it made the bed creak.

“John! You didn’t!”

You gulp and try to not upset her further. “Flutters, you know how Jake can be… I said no. Many times.”

“Did you?”

“Yes!”

“I thought you said no.”

“I did!”

Fluttershy sighs, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “John… Is that man coming to the wedding today? The wedding! Oh, John, get dressed! AH! I’m so nervous!” Fluttershy smiles and makes a little squeaking sound, a noise so adorably precious and rare you smile, too, hoping-”But you’re not off the hook! I can’t believe!... Believe we’re gonna be mister and missus! John! I’m so excited!” Fluttershy lays down and hugs you tight. “I’m SO upset that you went out to a… strip club, but John! I love you so much!”

“I love you, too, Flutters.” You sigh and kiss her cheek, getting a kiss back. You kiss Shy’s full, soft lips wetly, sighing just a bit, just likes she likes it. She melts on cue, her body sinking to lay on yours. You cup her round ass and gently nip her lip. You withhold slipping your tongue in her mouth, making her baulk, almost begging for you.

She swallows and sits up. “We shouldn’t be seeing each other today, isn’t that how it goes?”

You shrug and rest your hands behind your head, smirking as Fluttershy holds your erection to her thigh, just an inch from her hot, soft vulva. “Save it for the honeymoon, Flutters. Come on, we should be getting ready.”

“Hop in the shower, Johnny boy. You still smell like stripper.”

“Blame Jake! He literally dragged me into there!”

* * *

The sex in the shower is brief, but your fiance insists on taking her time to get ready. Your male preparation is far less taxing than hers, and with the annoying tradition of not spending any time pre-ceremony, you take your leave. Engaged for nearly two years, a couple for two more, you know how to make her smile: a pair of chicken coop fresh soft boiled eggs over toast and a small cup of plain tea makes for Fluttershy’s favorite small breakfast. You draw a heart on homemade jam on a piece of plain toast, grinning as you pluck up your garment bag and head to the castle, opting to take just a piece of bread. Anything substantial was liable to sit poorly amongst the pink butterflies in your stomach.

. * * *

Finally, the butterflies that have been fluttering around incessantly in your gut full on revolt. Music plays, a fanfare of a local acapella group accompanied by a tiny orchestral quartet, quite the ensemble, each member you recognize or know even by name. The music must be quite pleasant to the average attendee, you reason, the three dozen or so in attendance in the grand reception hall, including the princess of friendship, quite underbooked. You gulp and watch the bride stride down the aisle, confidence and poise and many other attributes emanating from her radiant figure. You can’t do a thing but stand and stare as the fanfare triumphantly and brightly heralds her arrival.

Fluttershy would look out of place outside her normal khaki shorts or jeans and working girl shirt, perhaps a flowing dress if she were out and about, like when you first met. Animals cared little for fashion, after all. You bite your lip and smile dumbly, completely awash with joy at the beautiful woman, ceremoniously draped in pure white lace and silk and whatever else her friend Rarity insisted on. The chords progressed in an uplifting, driving manner. The tall, muscular man accompanying her, her father, bore a happy, truefully happy smile. A protective man by nature, he was normally to be respected and feared by those after his little flower. Today, he was giving you his blessing.

The chords kept marching on, a canon drove the bride to be along the aisle. You cannot help but notice her red face, surely embarrassed by the ceremony of it all. You gulp and adjust the rental tuxedo jacket that continues to ride high. Now isn’t about the outfits, as much as the illustrious friend of your future wife insists. You gulp and try to picture you holding her hands, lifting her veil as the priest utters the words…

Before you know it, her hands are in yours, her addictive, immersive, immense teal eyes draw you into a deep embrace.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest of Celestia begins, the next words are buried under the thunderous sound of your heart, racing as you imagine an eternity besides Fluttershy. First is the honeymoon, which of course will be fantastic. Next are months, years caring for her and your children. Children, what an immediately terrifying notion. Giving Equestria and Earth a new life, you cannot help but imagine bringing a young boy or girl into the world with her. The process, the whole maternity thing, with puffy clothes and courses and strange diets and trendy habits, like making the baby listen to stupid classical music, brings a brighter grin to your face. You blink away the liquid joy and try to remember your vows.

“Dearest Fluttershy,” you finally hear, reigning in your wandering mind. It must have been over a half hour the priest rambled on. “Will you have this man to be your husband, to live together in holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

She sniffs. “I will.” You swallow at a lump in your throat and mentally prepare.

“And you,” the priest says at last, and clears his throat. “Will you have this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I will,” you say sighing softly, and watching a single drop roll down Fluttershy’s beautiful face. Her makeup reminds you of the first day you met. A grand castle hall was a far throw from the smokey bar she exhibited.

“Then,” the priest in his white and blue robe triumphantly declared, closing his tome with a gentle thump. “I now, with the power invested in me by our Princesses,” he paused, allowing you to see a particularly adorkable princess blush beet red. “Do hereby pronounce you, husband, and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

A few cheers ring out, as well as rapid flashes from cameras. You pull Fluttershy’s veil up, staring intently at her gorgeous little face. Without another thought, you pull her close and plant your lips on hers. She kisses back, wet lips pressed firmly against yours as dozens cheer on. The band picks up as you pull away. “I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too, Fluttershy,” you whisper back, then kiss her again, with all the love you can give. At last, she pushes away, wiping her eyes.

She sniffs. “I’m so sorr-” she begins, but is silenced with a kiss.

“I’m happy, too, baby,” you tell her. “Let’s go enjoy the reception.”

Fluttershy nods and uses your lapel to wipe away her tears. “Rarity would kill me if I got makeup on my dress.”

“Oh hush, it’s our day. Let’s do what we want.”

Fluttershy giggles and dances in place. “Oh my goodness! I’m just so excited! We did it! We really did it!”

You peck her one last time and turn with her down off the dias. “We sure did, Fluttershy.”

Her friends and their friends swarm you, laughing and hugging and asking questions and generally enforcing merriment.

“Fabulous!”

“I’m so happy for you two!”

“Oh, I can’t stop tearin’ up!”

“I-I’m not!”

“SELFIE TIME!” Instantly, you and Fluttershy are the center of a huddle as a pink phone with bunny ears appears on the end of one gloved arm, only to blind everyone with a flash.

* * *

Giggling is the only noise to be heard after you kick the bungalow door closed behind you. White lace and warm skin is all you touch as you step to the bed. It’s been a few days; your rented tuxedo fits far too tight around the inseam. Fluttershy laughs out loud as she bounces on the bed, thrown by your arms. She comes to rest with a sigh, looking at your face. “I’m so happy,” she whispers, wiping mascara off her cheek.

“I know,” you tell her, undoing the awful little black bowtie. You toss the black silky thing at her and drop the jacket on a chair. The cabin-style decor is the last thing on your mind as Fluttershy looks up with desire. You crawl onto the bed and, with one fluid motion, hoist her body easily to the head of the bed with one arm, making her bite her lip. She touches your face, halting your advances on her body and focussing you to her face.

She holds you, hairs away from a kiss. You smell her breath and let her smell yours. Cake, champagne, some of those tacky fruit arrangement things, and the final and sweetest scent, hers, tickles your nose. You lunge at last and give her a passionate kiss. Fluttershy’s lips are so thick and luscious, yet a stranger could never imagine them naturally wrapped around a hard cock.

Yet, that’s what her hands were trying to accomplish by pushing you away and pulling on your belt. You walk on your knees, straddling her torso and big breasts, letting the beautiful woman, your bride, your spouse, your lover, your soulmate undo your belt.

She looks up as she unzips the odd tuxedo zipper, long and thin, so very impractical for a zipper. “I want it,” she breathes. “I want you, forever.”

You touch her head and focus on breathing. “Take it. I’m yours, forever, Fluttershy.”

She smiles softly, just like everything she does. Her sun-kissed skin looks so lovely in the sunset trickling in through the west-facing window. Fluttershy’s painted nails pull your underwear down, she pulls out your penis, mostly erect. You coordinate with her to awkwardly shed your pants, and those briefs weren’t doing much, anyway. Fluttershy ends up on all fours, but she naturally kisses the clean-shaved skin of your pubis. She smiles and holds your hard cock to her face.

“I promise to wake you up like this as often as possible,” she says quietly.

You touch her head, her long, silken pink hair so soft. “And I’ll put you to bed just as nice,” you reply.

Fluttershy licked her way up your veiny shaft, all six inches loved intensely. Fluttershy sheds her normal visage of couth quietness and moans as she sucks your head in her wet lips. She laps up your skin, sighing often and using her hands to touch your body. Her fingers massage your balls, or the base of your shaft, or the skin under your shirt. She pushes out the world and enjoys giving you all she has.

Her skills have improved immensely since you first met, and she loves giving you head. You let her go until you feel the first pangs of climax. You push her head off gently, pulling her close. She grabs your wet dick and swallows all that troublesome saliva as you touch her body. “What’s wrong?” she asks, blushing. “I thought you loved that.”

“I loved it,” you whisper back. “I really did. I just need you. Now.”

“I’m so wet,” she breathes, and you kiss her filthy mouth. Fluttershy climbs onto your horizontal body, holding her heavy breasts.

You hold your hard dick by the base and let it throb for her to see. Fluttershy replaces your hand with hers as she stands tall on her knees, looking you in the eye. Her body shifts by the hip so she can sit better on the pole she holds.

The head touches her pretty, puffy lips. She strokes the length of her slit with your hard head, her field-hardened grip firm, yet gentle enough for a baby bird. She gently uses the faint layer of saliva on your shaft and tugs on your stick for a few pulls, then looks up. “Does that feel nice? I think I’m getting better.”

“Amazing,” you say, stroking her thighs. “You’re a pro. Just like practice. But I want you, missus.” You grab her thick thighs and persuade her to lower her hips. Fluttershy smiles as she guides herself down onto your cock. She bites her lip and watches the tip spread her soft, wet lips, then finally, pop inside.

She sharply inhales through her teeth, then sighs deep as she takes the length. You moan softly and hold her hips, pressing up with your own. Fluttershy slowly bends over to rest her large breasts on your chest, leaving her big ass to grab as you start to make love. Her hair falls around your face as you kiss her deeply, tasting her lips, hips slowly and fluidly meeting in a cycle that strokes your erection fully. You both work perfectly to make the other feel amazing. You grope Fluttershy firmly, but not too rough. Her limits are easy to see, but hard not to cross, sometimes. Keeping her happy is the most fulfilling game.

For minutes you give her a wonderful filling. She can’t stop moving, kissing your cheek, neck, collar of the white button up shirt, uncaring of the lipstick being left behind. You feel her shudder, and hump a little harder. You pull her up, then push her down. She takes it well, moaning, a little bit of hot breath escaping and tickling your ear. “I love you,” she whispers, holding your head to her neck. You suck gently and give her more, she keeps asking.

Fluttershy uses her hips suddenly, taking it all and making the bed squeak. You reciprocate on the next thrust, giving Fluttershy’s entire body a bounce. Then again. Again, and again, a fast, hard pace, right off the bat, and she’s loving it. Fluttershy's fingers dig into your shoulders as you ram her harder, nearing your limit of strength. You do the unthinkable, and slap her ass.

“AH!” Fluttershy moans, out, slamming her big butt into your lap. You squeeze the warm skin you assaulted and lick up her neck, breathing deeply and holding her thick body upright. You both move to a sitting position, leaving behind a little sweat on the covers already. Fluttershy smiles and gyrates her hips with you, stroking your cock as she sits in your lap.

She leans back and rests on her hand, looking deep into your eyes. You lay back fully, holding her shapely leg and rest on your side. You hump into her, filling Fluttershy in a much more exposed position. She goes for a long while, before falling back and panting, thighs drenched. You stand on the bed over her, cock still fully hard. “Are you done, honey?”

Fluttershy shakes her head, smiling from ear to ear. “I just felt that pressure again,” she pants. “Goodness, that was good! Let’s keep doing it, and make sure you finish inside me.”

You stop, halfway off the bed, catching yourself clumsily on the nightstand, throwing the cheap alarm clock to the ground. You turn and pull Fluttershy by her lovely legs to the edge of the bed. “You want it, then,” you say, holding her ankles to your neck.

Fluttershy twists her hips around to get comfy, then moves her legs to make your head nod, biting her tongue cutely.

You swallow and undo your shirt, proceeding to drop it. She had hinted at it, the big it, before. What a lovely thing, having a-

“Sweetheart? Are you going to do me?”

You look up from where your cock hangs between her warm thighs and swallow. “I am, sorry. I-,” you swallow. “I was thinking of, you know-”

“Don’t be scared. I love you, there’s nothing to worry about. Come on, fuck me,” she says, blushing deep. She had been so lewd the first night you met, but she was sober now, and this was a lot more adult, mature, than some romp on the floor. You kiss Fluttershy’s ankle and push your hips forward, prodding her pussy gently, until the tip slips up along her wet lips. Fluttershy moans and reaches down between her big thighs and aims your rod to her slit. She inhales and holds her breath as you slide in fully, yourself moaning softly.

Fluttershy’s body bounces back and forth as you get as wet as possible. It takes no time at all to get as hard as before. She bites her lip and rests her head on the covers, supporting her large breasts with both hands. You kiss her leg and groan as you stroke your cock in and out of her pussy, so soft.

With an adorable, coy little face, Fluttershy spreads her legs and curls her feet around behind you, pulling you close by your ass. You grab her hips properly and let her have it. She sighs and goes limp waist up, legs tensely pulling you in. You use her body and feel yourself coming close. You reach out and grab one breast, so warm and soft and amazing. Fluttershy’s hand clasps yours and makes you grab hard, fingers sinking in.

“Ah, I’m getting close,” you groan, hips now slapping hard enough to make noise. You look down at her pussy, the lips spread around your shaft, your short hairs meeting her shaven skin every second or faster. You stoop over and hold her hips, pulling Fluttershy’s body up some. She squeals with joy, mouth wide open, fingers clutching the sheets behind her head. Her heavy tits fall to either side of her chest.

Your bride shouts out with orgasmic bliss every breath, her volume barely loud enough for a conversation in a quiet room. “AH! OH! YES! AH! OH CELESTIA, YES!!” Her hips shake, more tremble, and her body goes stiff, convulsing slightly from her shoulders as you finish your last leg of your own race. Fluttershy looks up to you and gasps, clutching your body with her legs as the welling up sensation overflows the dam, and you climax. A powerful orgasm rocks your body, your arms flex and hold Fluttershy’s amazing thighs. With just one grunt, you feel your cock pump out a powerful series, a voluminous series of ropes deep into Fluttershy’s soft, wet vagina.

It must have been twenty seconds until you release your breath and relax. You look down at the girl on her back, blushing, but not hiding her body. She leaves her arms above her head so you can stare at her body. You lick your lips and gently, slowly pull out.

“A-ahh,” you moan with her. The sensation of your semi-soft penis sliding out and cooling in the salty air is sickly satisfying. You watch her legs spread, her feet hooking behind your knees as hers bend.

The blush grows on her face as she reaches down to cup her reddenned lips. You rest your knees on the bed and watch her stick a finger carefully inside and pull out a white-smeared digit. “You flooded me,” she says, watching your semen drip down her finger. “Oh my goodness, John, I’m so happy I’m with you!”

“I love you,” you say, watching her look up to you. You suddenly remember the reason you loved her as she looks up with those eyes, the same ones that stole your heart years ago. Her teal oceans are just bottomless with their beauty.

She smiles so wide, a precious, precious sight. “I love you, too.”

You bend over and lay your lips to hers, just breathing with her as your body follows, resting on hers, stickiness be damned. You slip your hand under her arched back and pull her amazing body up and sling her back onto the bed like a sack of vegetables. You rest your flaccid organ on her creamy lips and roll your hips against hers while Fluttershy slips her tongue in your mouth. You play with her, grinding your sexes together until anatomy brings blood and stiffness back to where it belongs. You pull back and before you can adjust things, Fluttershy’s hand shoots down to pull on your pulsing tool, never breaking the kiss. She tugs on the skin lovingly, moaning into your face, you give her a moan back, the deepness making her shoulders hunch for a little.

The deep kiss breaks with her going limp in the face and shouting out a little tense moan, throwing her head back to the mattress. You gently push your hips forward, just hard enough to penetrate. Once inside, Fluttershy banishes the softness with just being there. She watches you closely, lifting her legs up high. She hugs her thighs to her torso, knees by her head. “I know you like this,” she says, licking her lips.

“You showed me that porno, remember?” You give her enough force to rock the bed.

Fluttershy laughs and bites her lip, eyes fluttering as she lets her head fall back slowly, bouncing with recoil as you lay into her harder. You bend over and kiss her cheek and suck air as you give her more and more. Your bride moans tensely. She lets go of her legs and wraps her wonderfully shaped appendages around your midsection, her hot breath flowing over your ear as you bury yourself in her neck.

Fluttershy’s thick thighs work with you to make the bed creak, the two of you rocking in unison. You breathe deeply and kiss her cheek, her ear, her neck, her everywhere, all while she smiles and holds your face to hers, fingers tangling in your hair. Your arms hold her tight as you inhale her scent. She smells so sweet, but not so clean. You pull your hips back and give it to her deeper, harder, sliding your hard dick in and out of that tight, velvety soft honey pot.

“Oh, yes,” she weakly sighs out, spreading her legs wide. You reach down with one hand and move her knee back to her side, trying to move her calf over your lower back.

You kiss her ear. “Put your legs back, Fluttershy. They’re so warm.” You would do anything to feel them again. She hugs you close while you nip at her neck. “I’m gonna leave a mark here,” you threaten, but she only giggles and pulls you deep inside with her lovely legs. You suck harder, and harder, making her yelp, but not protest. You thrust with long, deep, powerful strokes, Fluttershy’s grip on you lifts her ass up off the bed. The rocking slams the headboard on the wall, but you couldn’t care less. You keep on fucking her deep, hard, like she is loving it.

The recent events have left your member aching and sensitive, but there’s no helping that. Fluttershy must also be feeling the same. You lick up her neck to her ear and hold her head in a hand. “I love you so much, Fluttershy,” you whisper, making her tense up.

Your pink-haired bride tenses up and whimpers, shivering. “I love you, too! So much! So much, so much, so fucking much!” You kiss her full lips now, silencing her moaning hysterics, flexing yourself. You groan and let your twitching, aching cock work again, firing a hot volley into her pussy. The shots are short and the volume isn’t there, but it still felt fantastic. Fluttershy came, too, you think. Her shoulders are shivering but she’s hot, covered with sweat.

You look in those teal oceans one more time, smiling tiredly, panting, sweat covering your skin in a layer. Fluttershy looks right back at you, panting, smiling from ear to ear. She falls back and closes her eyes, sighing hard. You kiss her exposed neck and grab the blanket. It takes no maneuvering to pull the opposite side over the two of you. Fluttershy’s legs going limp at last, spread wide, just like her heavy breasts. The sore organ nestled inside Fluttershy’s body goes soft at last. You have just enough energy to squeeze her thick thigh one last time. You close your eyes and relax, resting your head on her chest. Her fluttering heart slows to a calm, happy, sleepy rhythm. It is so nice to listen to…

Just as you feel yourself fall down into sleep’s deep, loving embrace, there’s a noise. It’s faint, probably something completely benign. You grin and stroke her sides. Fluttershy stirs, moving solemnly to hug you, face between her warm breasts. You inhale deep and sigh, smelling her sweaty skin. It’s not bad in the slightest.

Then, once again, a noise, louder and sharper. It’s as if someone nearby is breaking glass. You open one eye and see pitch darkness. You push yourself up, hours have passed. Fluttershy’s facing away, the lights are out, just like her. Moonlight trickles into the steamy warm bedroom and steals away that comfort. You feel an ice chill grow rapidly up your spine, cutting deep. You rise and slip on some pants, your favorite golf slacks, with fresh grass stains on the cuffs. You button them up, sucking in to do so. Married life has taken its toll on you.

Silently, golf club in hand, you descend the stairs, the banisters carefully measured. The sharp clash is louder, as if there’s someone just around the corner, climbing in through a broken window.

You rest your weight on the balls of your bare feet, a poor choice in hindsight, but now was too late. You grip your nine-iron katana and descend further, eyes fixed in the near pitch black coldness at the corner behind which the sound originated. Family portraits stare at you, warm smiles filled with frozen icicles. Eyes stare at you, accusingly. You blink them away, they are barely even visible. You reach the bottom step, grateful the wood is silent, completely silent, without any trace of a sound. The only sound is another crash, a tinkle of glass shattering and bouncing on the hardwood floor, likely ruining the hard work you put into staining it.

The dark, freshly crayon graffitied wall is rounded as you lean forward and see no burglars, no broken glass, but there is an invader. A small child, no older than two, sits, bathing in a sliver of moonlight. It turns as it sits, facing away, staring at you with bright teal eyes, glowing little oceans. Its face is illuminated in a cool, calm glow, showing a great big beaming smile.

Fluttershy walks in from the kitchen, alarmed, her eyes glowing in the darkness as well. They behold the toddler, her eyes like spotlights, fixing on the little human creature. She says something, its name, silently, as if someone had pressed the mute button. She says some sweet things, lighting up the corner they stood in with their blue green glows, hers larger from her sheer size. Her body is no longer pudgy, but far from thin. Her breasts even seem larger. You take a step forward and see why there was so much noise: a set of little plastic toys, little horses, the cheap shells are destroyed. The destructive tike has one such horse in its mouth and is sucking away happily, turning in your wife’s arms, looking at you.

Fluttershy smiles, holding your child to her face, then four eyes fix on yours. You aren’t cold anymore, but warm now, in the gentlest glow. You can see your cheeks, drawn up in a great big beaming smile. “Dad!” Fluttershy brightly whispers to your offspring. “Dada! Say Dad!”

The child giggles, and opens its mouth to speak, and says: “John, good morning.”

“Good job! Wow! I can’t- wait.”

The infant giggles again, with Fluttershy’s voice. “Good morning, sleepy head. Wake up, it’s time to go home.”

You blink, immediately closing your eyes against a solar onslaught, a stark contrast from the base of the midnight stairs. With effort, you groan and rest your wrist over your eyes, attenuating the bright red from the inside of your eyelids. “Oh, does hubby need some motivation?” she giggled. A wet sensation piqued your interest on your hip. It happens again, lower, closer and closer to the discomfort between your legs. “How about… this?” she asks. Suddenly, the tip of your semi-erect cock is bathed in the wettest, softest sensation ever. You open your eyes and see arm hair.

The next effort is no less taxing than the last, but you sit up and blink some sleep from your eyes. “Mngh, good morning, wifey,” you croak, rubbing one eye, the other beholds a pink mane draped over your lap. Fluttershy pulls her hair back and looks up, her eyes positively glowing.

“You were talking in your sweef,” Fluttershy tells you, mumbling her last word on your erect cock. She moans, vibrating it just how you like.

You flop back to the bed with spread arms, smiling, remembering the last day. “What was I saying?”

Fluttershy quietly licks your whole morning dick, moaning softly and using her full lips. She was getting pretty good nowadays. She comes off, using her hand to stroke your wet wood. “Nothing I could make out,” she giggles. “Something about eyes, though.”

“I love your eyes, baby,” you tell her, sitting up and watching her suck so lovingly. You stop her, unable to get hard completely after last night’s marathon.

Fluttershy pouts softly. “You don’t like it?” she asks, her hand leaving your wilting cock.

You sit up and hug her close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I loved it, you are really getting good,” you whisper honestly. “I don’t have any steam left after last night. You sure do know how to wake a man up, wife.” You kiss her ear, then her smiling cheek, then her wet lips, previous visitations be damned. Fluttershy strokes your thigh and kisses your neck, pressing you back down to hug her just a little longer.

Her hand strokes your chest hair, her right breast resting on your lap as she lays her head upon your shoulder. “What were you dreaming about?”

You stroke her long, hair and answer: “I don’t remember.” You pause, thinking hard. You shake your head. “I really can’t think of much. It was… dark. But you were there. It was good.”

With a little sigh, Fluttershy leans up and kisses your neck, lingering there to rest more of her body on yours. “Every dream I have about you is good,” she sighs, hugging you tight.

With effort seeming twice of what you’ve endured so far today, Fluttershy sits up and gets her cute little feet under herself. “It’s past eleven, John,” she sighs, stretching. “Come, let's shower and go check out.”

You hop up and kiss her little cheek, giving her big breast a little squeeze. “Get in the shower, my lovely wife. I think I need to treat you just a little bit more,” you whisper in her ear, touching her upper thigh, your ring touching her labia accidentally. Fluttershy gives you an equally lewd squeeze and follows you close to the shower.

Applejack

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This. This was nice. Just laying around, listening to the wind blow on the old wooden house and cheesy, played out Hearth’s Warming tunes, sipping warm cider (with an unhealthy splash of whiskey for the adults), and a warmer body to snug up to. You close your eyes and tangle your toes with Applejack, who chuckles in her adorably deep tone.

AJ sighs, laying into your chest with her cheek, fiddling with the rock necklace she got from her extended "family". "I just can't believe Twilight would go out and do all that without us," she sighs again, at least the third time tonight. You wrap an arm tightly around her waist and lean your head on hers.

"You heard what she and Starlight said, though," you reply softly, at least for the third time. "It was circum-"

"Circumstantial, I know!" She sighs and kicks her socks off, rolling over to rest her head in your lap. "Just feels wrong. Twilight and our gang always did stuff together. I guess tellin a story ain’t nothin to miss, ‘specially when you’ve heard it a million times."

You touch AJ’s long, silky blonde hair and stare up at the ceiling. Her room is nice and toasty tonight, thanks to what messed up her sheets just about ten minutes ago. The two of you decided not to crack a window, savoring the sweaty air. You stroke her hair and try to think of something to say, not rushing. Maybe silence is the best answer.

“Aw, shoot,” she sighs a short moment later, standing on her elbows and looking up to you. “Sorry. I keep on complainin’, when I should be happy as a clam now that yer home. I missed ya, soldier boy.”

“It’s great to be back, AJ.” You smile and touch her cheek as she crawls forward, her long hair hanging down over your body. Her skin is so warm and soft. You could touch it for hours. You smile as she slowly nears, a kiss from those beautiful lips inbound, her freckles dropping towards your face. AJ closes her eyes, as do you, as she tenderly lays those soft, warm lips on yours-

“APPLEJACK!” a girl’s voice cracks through the heavy wooden door, followed by heavy knocks. “HEY, SIS! DO YOU WANNA PLAY WITH YOUR PRESENTS?”

“I sure as shit do, Applebloom,” AJ says quietly to you, pinching your lower stomach. “No! Now git!”

“GRANNY SAYS YOU GOTTA COME OUT SOMETIME!” not-so-little Applebloom shouts from the other side of the door, a duo of giggles could be heard after her harsh timbre faded.

“Well, that can be tomorrow!” AJ shouts back, her tank top falling off her shoulders. She does nothing to fix it as she takes another breath. “Tristan just got back yesterday, and we’s gotta talk about things!”

“Yeah! Like tons of sex!” another rowdier voice cries out, followed by an explosion of girly laughter. Thankfully it faded as they romped off, feet falling hard.

You pounce on the opportunity and roll AJ onto her back, getting between her long, strong legs. She laughs herself and lays on her splayed hair. It was too fucking sexy when it was down and out of that little ponytail she liked to wear. “What if they’re right?” you ask, kissing her neck, so wonderfully warm and tender. “What if we can’t come downstairs because we’re fucking like rabbits?”

“AH!” she cries out shortly, grabbing your short hair in one clasping hand. “You dog!” she chuckled, wrapping her legs around your waist and pulling you in with her freakish strength. Your growing stiffy presses against that soft mound of flesh. She always had such a puffy, incredibly sexy pussy.

The best part was that this was all real. No bugs, no transformation, kidnappings, no split-second decisions on who is and isn’t your best frien-

You inhale sharply, pushing the memory down. Yourr fingers slide up her shirt, lifting the thin bit of cotton and polyester up, up, over her bare breasts, nice and round and soft-“yEAPPLEJACK!” An old voice crowed at the door, followed by an even heavier set of knocks. “You git yer little apple bottom out here right now! Tristan’s been back two days now, you come down and share with yer family!”

AJ groans into a pillow, her body going limp save her arms holding that fluffy pouch to her face. She throws it to the floor and sighs, looking you in the face, red, smiling tiredly. “Yes, granny!” she replies with an obedient cry. “Oh Celestia, I can’t stand my family sometimes.” She pulls your face down for a deep, warm, wet kiss, then pushes you away. “Sure makes me jealous of all that freedom you got ta have in the guard. I mean, when you were off duty.”

“Every second was spent missing you,” you say, kissing her again, just a long peck. “And believe it or not, your crazy family. Oh, and I gotta thank you and your granny for all that jam and cookies. My friends were crazy for it. Almost as crazy as those photos.”

“Tristan! You-”

“NOW, missy!” Granny cried out again. “I ain’t askin again! And fer Celestia’s sake, please wear a bra!” Another trio of giggling could be heard distantly.

AJ flung her head back, frustrated visibly. “Yes, granny.”

“Damn it, I like it when you don’t wear a bra.”

“We ain’t done with this,” she says, sitting up, pushing you off so she can stand. You follow close, fixing your belt and shirt and, of course, sliding your erection up into your waistband.

It’s tough not to stare. Even in a modest sports bra, AJ’s rack is amazing. Only a few girls in town could compete, to include Pinkie Pie. The threesomes hadn’t picked up again, not yet. But, it was still only the second night back in Ponyville. After four years enlisted in the guard, not shaving and not mustering before the sun everyday was luxury redefined.

You fix your short hair, eager to see it long again. Following AJ is pretty embarrassing, but no one seems to mind.

Of course, down in the family room with the kids, Big Macintosh, and Granny, Applejack’s big, soft tits weren’t on the menu. You grin, happy you can think about them again. It was always tough since the attack-

“So what’re you grateful for, Tristan?” little Applebloom asked, hardly little anymore. Her presents included clothes, as usual, one of the few times she got them. She was fiddling with a new dress now, it would go well with her red hair. At the ripe old age of sixteen, the little girl was almost all grown up. You laugh and muss her hair up. You lean into AJ as she lays her head on your shoulder, the sofa was all yours, Granny in her chair and Big Mac whittling away at a walking cane in the loveseat, his carving knife freshly sharpened.

You take the moment to tap your foot and look at the trio of young women laying and sitting against the couch. Sweetie Belle looks the eldest, but they were all quite young, birthdays within four months of one another somehow. Nearly ten years younger, all are certainly to leave a trail of broken hearts anywhere they roam. “That’s easy. I’m grateful for the adversity I was forced to overcome in the army. Without that, I wouldn’t have grown out of my highschool-shell. I’d still be the same boy, driving recklessly and not heeding the world. Now, I appreciate the things I’ve learned that I was taking for granted.”

“Awww,” Applejack and the girls all say. Big Macintosh gives a smile and a nod, then returns to his woodwork. Granny Smith’s sleepy expression grows just the slightest bit dour. She doesn't comment, but an uneasy chord is struck someplace deep inside you when she starts to rock back and forth in her old wicker chair. Despite her erratic eccentricities, Granny always had a penchant for the clairvoyant. She didn’t like that answer.

“Big Mac?” Sweetie Belle asked as she leaned on her purple-haired comrade. She sure was looking at him a lot.

The stallion of a man sat back in the old leather chair. He stopped carving and looked to the ceiling, scanning the ether for answers with his deep, thoughtful green eyes. The barrel chested brother was far from a dunce, he was incredibly sharp, in fact. You’ve learned through the years his protective nature is deeply rooted in his ties to his family. Of course, the family man answered as expected: “Kin,” he said simply and wore a satisfied, tranquil grin. He turned his eyes down to his work, shaving down a knot in the oak.

Scootaloo slipped her hand down Sweetie's side, resting her fingers on her friend’s side. Was there an amorous intent with that seemingly platonic touch? You shift your legs, trying not to care about them as AJ slides her hips down the sofa to rest more weight on you. “What about you, Granny Smith? What are you grateful for this time of year?” Applejack asks.

The matriarch chuckled and rocked deeper and faster. “OOooh, youngin’s, y’all best wait on my answer last. Ain’t proper ta make yer ole Granny Smith ta rush her answer ta such a question.” Her eyes fix on yours, but her smile seems happy and genuine.

AJ chuckles herself and squeezes your hand. “Well, you heard her, pumpkins,” AJ says in her little drawl. “Why don’t you three go? Least you could do after assaultin’ my boyfriend with a question like that.”

Scootaloo and Sweetie blush red, but Applebloom laughs and looks back, resting her head on the couch cushion you find yourself on. “Well, shucks! I’m grateful for my crusaders, that’s easy. We three are thick as thieves. I just don’t know WHAT I’d be if’n we’d never met!”

They laugh and scoot closer, all resting on each other in a little pile. “Aw!” the girls cry out in unison, annoying as ever, especially since puberty had started to lower their voices. “Cutie Mark Crusaders BFF’s!” Applejack just squeezes your hand as Big Mac laughs quietly to himself. Granny, however, is beside herself with laughter.

Applejack kisses your cheek and rests her head back on your shoulder. “I’m grateful the princess gave me back my handsome Tristan. It’s been a long four years,” she says, kissing your cheek again. “A long, hard four years, baby,” she whispers in your ear, barely breathing it.

“Alright now, Granny,” AJ says, nuzzling your cheek with her head. “I reckon all these girls are gonna say the same thing if we ask ‘em. We all went, what is it you’re grateful for?”

The elder cackles into the air, then begins hacking and coughing violently, as she’s taken to recently. Especially the last month or so, so says AJ. “Well now,” she croaks, letting out one last phlegmy cough. Granny spits into the spittoon by the fire and adjusts her loosened dentures. “This whole tradition is mighty sweet. Sure reminds me of when I was a little filly, and of your parents, little ones. They would be so proud of the lot of ya,” she said with a sad little laugh. “Even you, Tristan.”

Talk of the late Mr. and Mrs. Apple was almost unheard of. In your foursome years with Applejack, they only came up twice, both in passing. Now, Granny talked so casually. It was… eerie. “Now, my little late kiddies, yer parents were the honorable and hard-working sort. They ploughed the fields and harvested, just as you do, but there was a side to the pair you might not know. Now,” Granny said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m gittin’ on in years, and-”

“Gran, hush,” AJ says, sitting up. “You don’t go on, talkin like that! It’s late, we all need some shuteye. Tomorrow is Monday and we ALL got some work to look forward too.”

“For what?” Granny asked defensively. “Those two fools up’n died when you weren’t but lil’ saplings! Now, I’m afraid as your grandma, I’m one of the few ol’ mules that still done holds onto some recollection, so you shut on up and listen! Bifore my old noodle dries up.”

You feel Applejack’s grip disappear as she holds onto the edge of her seat. You lean back towards her and touch her lower back. Granny continues. “They were beautiful as can be: a perfect picture. Now, about twenty years back, just after your lil sis was born,” she said to Mac, “yer momma was drafted! Now, not many folks know about the first changeling war, but that Queen Bugbutt? Chris, a, oh, I can’t remember her galdarn’d-”

“Chrysalis,” you interject.

“That’s the one! That buggy freak was no one-hit wonder. She done did some covert scoping out of that there royal city Canterlot, about one score year ago and then some! A more vile creature, I’d never seen! But she was here! Right on Sweet Apple Acres!”

AJ grips your hand hard. Of course it had to be Chrysalis. Was she going senile? No one had heard of changelings before, not many, they were just some obscure trope from fairy tales. AJ and Big Mac had dropped everything to lean in and listen to Granny Smith, while Applebloom and friends were misty-eyed to hear any details, breathing silent, short breaths.

“Now, those of the faint of heart,” she paused, swallowing, feeling her temple. “No. Little Applebloom, yer a big girl now. You and your friends been through some troubles, y’all ought to know. If us kin’a yers are so important, Big Mac, you’ll listen, and listen well.

“That awful queen done knew about this little slice’a heaven, you better believe it! Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t the massive, productive orchard it is today back then, but still, it was a mighty fine piece of land. Fertile as anything. That… thing impersonated yer pa and… well, there ain’t no way of sugarcoating it.

“She, if you can imagine that demon has a set of lady parts, stalked and stalked and stalked, for months. Yer pa one day was up’n a tizzy bout, oh, somethin’ or other, don’t matter much. He went to bed that night after a nasty little fight with your ma, oh it was particularily. My son had one hell of a temper growin’ up, but this took the cake! Well, almost. Back when his girlfriend at the time said no to the Ponyville Fall Formal, first of it’s kind! Oh, but was he persistent! He-”

“G-gran,” Scootaloo interrupted. “I’m fascinated, but aren’t you getting a bit sidetracked?”

Granny Smith gave a flip of her wrist and went back to rockin’ “Kids these days, no patience fer nothin’! Now, when you’re buyin’ by the bushel, or, er… where was I?”

“Papa was gettin’ in a nasty fight with ma one night,” AJ said hurriedly.

Granny nodded. “Thank you kindly, Applejack. Oh, was your papa ever angry! Kickin’ over chairs and buckets and stomped right off into the woods, didn’t come back for supper! We was worried sick, but your ma, she figured he needed a night to cool off. He was mighty persistent, your pa, and one little spit wasn’t ‘bout to derail their love. He could sleep on a bended arm out in the summer air, ain’t the first time. If only it weren’t the last.

“‘Ceptin, your pa warn’t angry at all when he came back in the mornin’. In fact, he looked like he spent a night in a spa, not the south orchard! His crow’s feet gone, he looked fit as a fiddle. It was strange, and he was mighty happy. Acted as if nothin’ were wrong with the world, even in pourin’ rain!”

An afterimage of your barracksmate Blue Bull came to mind. Passed out drunk under his bunk, woke up looking fresh and morale at an all time high. You took a deep breath and forced the image of his head coming… no, no that wasn’t something to be remembered now.

“Well, the day went on, and neither said a word bout the whole spat, so I figured it was all water under the bridge. Life is mighty strange, after all. The next day was pleasant and sunny, so as I busied myself with chores alongside your ma and you, lil Macintosh, you was juuuust old enough to do the washing, your pa done strolled into town to sell some apples. Noon came and went, so your ma went off to see how he was faring, and I suspect try to feel out their relationship. I wasn’t there, mind you, I remember changin’ your little diaper, Applejack, and Mac had a little cut from somethin’ or other, so I was plenty busy babysittin’. But I wish your ma hadn’t strolled down to town that day.

“She killed yer ma. Broad daylight, right in the market as she was conversin’. The townsfolk, mind you, acted right on the spot, and chased him down an alley as he fled, blood on his hooves. He was cornered, they took him to th’judge. He was hung within an hour.”

“NO!” Applejack shouted, tears streaming down her young, cute face, hands clasped over her mouth. Big Mac held his knife in a very tense hand. The young ones clung together in a teary pile, whimpering. You gulp and stare past the images.

Granny took a deep breath. “When the rope yanked taught, it wasn’t the handsome young man that married your mother. It was a nasty, creepy creature, eyes bulging and wings like rotten apple skin. I’ll never forget that thing.”

“So it was a drone?” you ask, heart pounding.

Granny nodded. “Yesmdeed, vile demon of a thing. The worst part… it almost looked like a human, even dead and swingin. The queen you must know, Tristan, never did show her face. But I’ll recognize one of those awful buzzers anywhere.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Images of Bull having his face go slack as a bullet spun through his skull-

“Tristan,” AJ says, more shouts. “Relax, honey,” she says, her hands clutching yours as yours holds her thigh. You look to her, eyes screwed up in pain. Instantly, your strong grip relaxed.

You breathe a short pained breath as Applejack rubs her leg, wincing. “You alright, sugar?” she asks, but you are too dumbstruck to respond. “Sugar? Tristan, that hurt, what’s wrong?” She moves into touch your side and lean close, but you stand and leave everyone in awe, all twelve eyes fixed on your sweating self.

You turn and walk to the porch without a word, struggling to treat the old, creaky screen door gently. Those damn hinges must be old as granny, such a convenient burglar and rebellious teen alarm. The air is bitterly cold, stinging your skin just seconds outside. Your breath forms fog as you draw your arms in close and walk out into the knee deep snow, wearing only pajamas and sneakers.

“Tristan!” Applejack calls from the porch, her little feet bare. She must be so cold. “Tristan, wait! We can talk!” You keep walking downhill.

There isn’t a cloud in the midnight sky, and the stars sparkle as you trudge downhill through the deep snow. You find yourself running, sprinting, your chest burning like your face, hands, ankles, waist, all exposed to the biting wind or freezing snow. The north orchard was no good for trees: too many rocks and snake holes. A bastard of a plot of land, all that liked to grow here were swollen ankles.

You stomp on, uncaring to what may be a commotion behind you. Bull’s final moments replay as you sprint away. The shouting, the crying, the torn clothes and battered weapons, the ceremonious day ruined by some pretenders. His blood was red.

His blood was red.

The drone next had green blood. Just like those lieutennants, Sergeant Comb and privates Bulk and Farmwald. All green. But Bull… he failed the challenge, and he bled red, unlike everyone else. The rifle was heavier that day than every other drill day, even after doing longarmed holds for twenty minutes straight. It was so fucking heavy. He was at the morning brief, and Celestia, did it drag. The hot summer sun was happy, just like the day. All of the Sanctum Guard were elated to be on duty, unlike the usual groan of standing still and being the subject of tourist photoshoots.

“Wish I could see the ceremony,” he said, buffing a scuff in his golden armor.

You crack your neck and check that your weapon is on safe. “We didn’t enlist to see pretty princesses get married, man.”

He laughed at that, his little raspy chuckle rattles around in your head. “Yeah, I never knew I’d be wishing for that kind of thing. If only I was one fucking inch taller. Coulda made the elite.”

“Yeah… get fucked. Come on, sarge wants us outside in twenty. We better start walking.” You spit out a wad of wet tobacco, a secret Applejack would never get to know about.

“You got some shit in your teeth, dude,” Blue said, spitting out his own pouch.

You always gave him shit for the pouches, but they were convenient and cleaner. You drop your spitter in the trash and rinse your teeth with some water. Bull checked your teeth and gave a thumbs up before putting his cover on.

The day was damn bright, despite the Captain’s semi-transparent shield spell. The tourists may still be put off by it, but that magenta glow was almost a comforting sight by now. Dynamic perception, Gunny said. Bullshit, this armor still chafed after twelve hours.

A short brief later, Sergeant Vault mustered everyone up, and sent everyone on patrol or to their sentry stations with a “don’t fuck it up” speech the likes of which never before seen. You and Bull are in the castle courtyard, the most junior lance corporals get the worst duties, naturally. Not that you’re junior. Bull had just made E-3 a month ago, and the boot was your friend. He was a bit of a hot shot, always was on point, looked great in formation, which was imperative at a “dress” command. He knew all the general orders, the infantry creed, all that crap you had dropped a year out of basic. Just two more years, then it was terminal leave. Apple cider on a sun-kissed hill was just those two little years away.

You feel a chill, despite the sun beating down on your back as you walk calmly, chest out and back straight, ceremoniously ornate rifle weighing your hand down as you cradle it to your shoulder.

“You excited to see the princess get married to Shining Armor?” Blue asks, staring straight forward with the requisite stoic frown.

You grumble, digging fibers out of your lower front teeth. “Way too fancy for me. I’d prefer to elope to Las Pegasus, or have a little church wedding.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, chiding you. “You can’t just go on living disgruntled and hating everyone.”

“I’m a veteran.”

Blue laughed, then stowed his smile. “Dude, I know you’re terminal, but I seriously hope the gold weenie didn’t really take your soul. You’re a four and out guy.”

You reach your post and about face in unison, wordless, synched with a man your polar opposite. “Nah,” you say, staring straight out as you guard the right side of one of the castle’s more popular entrances. Guests were milling in a large crowd, even at this mid morning hour. “For all my bitching, I’m pretty excited for today.”

“I knew you loved the celebrity banquet type thing,” he said, a little monotone as you both were chosen for this command based on the ability to keep a super sat uniform and a stone cold straight face.

You shift your loaded ceremonious rifle to the other shoulder. “Nope. Couldn’t care less. But, my girlfriend is part of the staff.”

Blue, ever a fan of “the celebrity banquet” type of fan, could be heard almost squeaking. “No fucking way,” he said, his lips barely moving. A civilian approached, a little squirly man with a loud suit. He showed his identification, something to do with the magic department. Blue passed him through and continued. “Is she in charge of the decor? Music? What?”

“Catering.”

The little excited girl inside Blue could be seen in his clenched jaw. “Your girlfriend is going to be making all the food?” he asked, tense, looking over with his eyes. “You said she was part of the staff, not the wait staff.”

“Everyone’s gotta eat. She can make the meanest apple pie. Oh, and she knows that one girl. Twilight Sparkle.”

Blue broke his pose and looked over, eyes bugged out. “No way!” he hissed, then turned right back, red in the face, breaking a sweat.

You clench your rifle’s butt harder and try not to laugh. “I’ll try to get her to sign your panties next time we all get together.” You clench your eyes and try not to crack. Blue is red. After the moment and a few civilians pass into the castle’s grand hall service entrance, you continue. “I’ve met her. She’s a wonderful person, very smart, and really fucking hot. Like,”

“Thirty-three, twenty, thirty-six,” he says. “Cup is D, I think, but not sure.” Blue blinks, casually looking over. “What? She’s the best princess, why can’t a guy dream?”

You laugh quietly as a queue starts to form. “Stalker. Look alive, the guests want to get in. It’s almost time to let the general attendees in.” The next hour passes quickly as you finally get to do your job as castle security, or “Canterlot Guard of the Royal Colors,” as the title on your orders states. One or two forgotten ID’s, nothing suspicious besides that. There was little worry beyond the ambiguous “threat” made against Canterlot. Of course, the guard was doubled at the castle, the city left to it’s own devices. In perfect honesty, Canterlot was probably the safest city in Equestria. Which is exactly where the most precious people would want to keep themselves and their possessions.

Once the line died down, you stretch your arms by switching shoulders repeatedly in smart movements while Blue hums a little tune. You don’t mind so much. Anything to break the monotony. Another hour passes, then another, standing still, shaking knees, switching sides a handful of times just to move. Plenty of Equestrians take pictures, but that was the point. The chain kept them back, even the little idiot children. One got a little rambunctious, a little pudgy thing. No one swung on the Princess’s chain.

“You have the door,” you sharply state, snapping your rifle to the right shoulder.

“Aye!” Blue shouts, staring out a million miles.

You march out, knees high, steps measured. You face right and march two steps, take a deep breath and bend over slightly, eyes locking with the pudgy little squirt. “STAY OFF THE CHAIN!”

The fat toddler scrambled off, visibly shaken before you were finished with the word “chain”. It was a treasure to catch rebellious kids imposing on a boundary. You march back, Blue, watching behind you for any signs of malcontent, like a good sentry should. The kids scream and giggle as they run away, scrambling, one shouting something about “recording everything”. It’s no matter, you were following orders. It was a practiced skill, one you hoped wouldn’t carry over into your new life at the orchard. The alicorn shits on the first and the fifteenth, you tell yourself, imagining Applejack wearing a beautiful diamond ring.

The next hour was painfully boring. The ceremonies were underway, surely everyone was gathered in inside the castle’s western wing, the main entrance to which you remained guard at. A few busy people milled about, cars whizzed by, but pedestrians were still few and far between. Just six more hours, six little, boring, nice, easy hours ‘til the reception. Then you could find AJ, out of this damned uniform, or not, it hardly mattered. A little awful dancing, a little incredible cake, then a little time alone in her private quarters. There sure were perks to knowing Celestia’s pupil’s close friend. You ponder the possibilities for a long while, mind drifting, eyes scanning details utilizing your reptilian brain as your higher thinking portions fabricated details about Applejack’s body. It had been so damn long.

Minutes crawl by at first, but then an hour passes, two, three, almost four, then the chimes go off, signalling the beginning of the ceremony proper. Things crawl on by, you could almost hear the fanfare and Celestia’s introduction, when you hear a crash. A fellow guard, a sergeant in another squad, sprints by inside, the fear of the Goddess in him. “Wait! Sarge!” Blue calls out, running inside. You grip your rifle, one small movement from at the ready, and flick the safety off. Blue runs inside as you widen your stance to guard the door. You look back to see a commotion, mass panic, as civilians sprint away from a flash.

The magenta-tinted sky flashes, over and over again at tiny dark points, like disgusting little shooting stars. You notice there’s actual, awful black creatures attacking the magic sphere.

“Blue! Blue, get your skinny ass out here! We’ve got a problem!” You look over your shoulder and see a mob of well-dress crazies. They all spill towards the nearest hole, the door you’re sentry to. You pull slow geriatric aristocrats to the street and out of the doorway. “MOVE, PEOPLE, CLEAR THE WAY!” You sling your weapon and use both arms to pull a plus sized gentleman clear, barely able to fit through. “Get out of there!” you shout. Once the thickest of the throng is through, you swim inside through the chaos to what seems like the aftermath of a hurricane.

Trash, scraps of clothes and jewelry and decor and food are strewn about randomly. The crowd thinned quickly, and only a wide eyed woman with a perfectly styled blonde hairdo, now ruined, falls to clutch your breastplate. Her streaming makeup soils her formerly regal appearance. “Help! They’ve taken the entire room! The princess!”

“Who? Who’s they? Ma’am, calm down-wait!” Before you can get an answer, she slips by desperately, sprinting on heels to the exit you once guarded. How could anyone get inside? Every guard at the command was on duty, as well as at least two hundred from other cities.

You swallow at a lump in your throat, smelling smoke in the air. “Fuck,” you spit, readying your rifle. You check the magazine and chamber quickly, then continue up the stairs.

The first flight of white marble is adorned with a lavender carpet, likely worth thousands, now splattered with dirt and debris and oh Celestia, so much blood. And green… stuff. Goo? It looks like the gunk from a split flower stem, or snot. You gag at the stench and continue on.

Bodies, dead ones. You’ve only seen one, back home, a sad day for the entire family. Now, three were crumpled like an author’s rejected drafts. Worthless, just hunks of meat wrapped in something unnecessarily expensive. A seargent, one you knew, and two junior men from the town, the next one whos name escapes you. You memorize their names and faces without thought and move on, around the corner, en route to the grand hall.

Suddenly a fourth corpse, just a little further ahead. This one looks like a giant insect. Green eyes are glazed over, green bile drips from his slack jaw, you assume he’s a him. There’s no going near it, horror stories have taught you too well. One squeeze, and the carpet had a few new stains and a new bullet hole under his head. The rifle sounded like a cap gun.

You clutch your rifle and peek around the corner to see a senior enlisted, at least a gunnery sergeant, enough stipes and rockers. His head pops like a fucking melon. A man who likely spent twenty years of loyal service to his country, who likely had a wife, a good probability that she was divorced, with kids, now gone. Forty something years of precious, loving time, wiped out by a little ball of lead. You contemplate all that from behind the marble wall and take another peek. The shooter is scanning the hall, he looks-

“Blue?” You blurt, and his rifle snaps to your direction. Instinct saves you as the marble explodes an inch from your eye, sending out chunks of stone debris and a cloud of dust. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck this, Princess, fuck you!” You stand a few inches further from the edge and get ready to do… something. Anything!

He shouts. You can’t make it out, but it sounds like your name. “Hey!” You hear now. “Tristan! Is that you?!” You swallow again. “Tristan, I thought you were one of them!”

One of what? A fucking guard, doing his job for once? A senior guy, probably in charge of a hundred junior servicemen. Or was he like the bug just a few feet back?

You knock the back of your head on the wall, wishing you had a ballistic helmet and armor, like normal. Fuck these stupid dress uniforms. You rip off the medals and toss the breastplate off, there goes two-hundred bits, plus a hundred for the stupid chest candy. You swallow and clutch your gun tight, and risk a peek. The shooter is definitely Blue, just outside the shut doors to the grand hall, the dense crystal doors an import from the northern Crystal Empire. “Blue, what the fuck are you doing?” You shout out from behind the safety of the stone corner.

“My fucking job, man! These, these things, they ain’t fucking people! They’re fucking aliens or something. They take over other people’s bodies! Fuck, how do I know it’s really you?”

“What?” You ask, leaning out, only to have another dust shower as a bullet ricochets off the marble an inch from your temple. “Shit! Blue! It’s fucking me! Stop shooting before I fucking KILL you, asshole!”

You hear him switch magazines, told by the sound of him charging the bolt. So much for baiting to fire dry. “No fucking way, man. I’m not risking it.”

“You know it’s me! How do I know it’s you?” You ask, sure he’s fucking insane. Guards didn’t carry spare mags, did he fucking take one from the bodies? He probably had all the rifles, too. This wasn’t good.

“Of course it's me! How do I know you’re you?”

“What’s Twilight’s waist size?” You shout out, finger already putting two pounds on the trigger.

A long pause, you ready your rifle and step back, aiming at where you know his head to be. “What? What are you-” BANG

Just like that, you end your close friend’s life, with a quick lean, lift, pull, and squeeze, the sights aligned right to those piercing eyes of his. Now, they’re dull, looking into the horizon. You check the hall and walk forward, sweating profusely.

You advance and take a look at the body, his body. The jaw is gone, and you can’t hold back breakfast. You bend over and hurl, stomach rejecting out everything.

When you wipe your lips, you’re grateful you ditched the metal. You wipe off the chunks of egg from your white undershirt and try not to stare at the... Blue was just acting up. The nerves? What if he was just crazy? For a little bit. Or, maybe forever, he’d still be human, and your friend… somewhat. Holy fuck, what if he was like Gunny? What if he was Gunny? Fuck, he was Blue! He had a girlfriend, he was going to propose next time he had leave! Now, those hopes and dreams were staining the lavender carpet-

Just like the last of your breakfast is on the carpet… and some of last night’s beer. You wipe your face again and fall forward to the door, and feel the cold crystal. The opaque doors are thick, there’s no seeing through keyholes or hearing through these.

You sit on your ass, legs outstretched, rifle at the ready. “What the fuck,” you spit, wishing for a drink of water to rinse your mouth, followed by a gallon of whiskey. Good stuff, like Applejack likes. You shoulder your rifle as someone shouts something from the hall you just left. You rest your cheek on the stock and aim down the sights, you’ve only aimed with intent once before, and that was seconds ago. Now, you feel your shaky arms solidify, you feel ready to pull the trigger again, natural as crapping.

Three men round the corner, shouting, uniforms a fucking mess. Suddenly, wrinkles are the last of their problems. Blood sprays from all their chests as one round pierces each of them. The first, a junior member, from his two medals, has those precious bits of chest candy ripped asunder as he drops cold. Dead, no doubt. The next is an officer, a fucking fresh little butter bar, barely aged enough to know a swear, but he doesn’t die, no, the bullet hits his side somewhere. He’s not in a good way. The third is another boot, Celestia, his high and tight is so damn fresh, til a lead pill cures all that ails him. He had to fall backwards, mutilated collar up.

You snap your rifle back to the officer and stand up on watery knees. He’s grunting and spitting up blood. Obviously saveable, but that’s not the point. The first soldier’s body writhes, spasming.

You step forward, something awful happens. You are frozen, unable to look away. The boot’s eyes burn away, rotting, invisible maggots devouring them, the most savory, wet, easy bits to eat. They’re replaced with a green fire, the flames consuming his absent flesh and leaving in the ashes a pair of bulging, bright, pale lime green orbs one may consider optical organs. The same happens to his handsome, clear skin on his face. The result is a waxy, oily, crunchy shell of a face, features completely changed. Almost human in appearance, the well dressed, fit young man burns away, and in its wake, a gnarled and twisted insect the size of a teen. The limbs are filled with holes, like cheese. On his back are waxy wings, structural spines lace a thin layer of chitinous stuff, like firm cellophane.

“Why-” the sir gagged, vomiting. You turn to face him.

You breathe heavily, wiping away a little puke from your chin. There’s an awful stench all around. “I don’t know. What do you mean, why?”

You stand over him as he rolls over. He probably maxed out all his PT scores, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. “Why did you shoot me? Why are those things- things, why are they here? Where’s...”

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking at the warm steel of your barrel. “I had no clue who was who-”

A gunshot rang out, and just like that, blood sprays your face. You look up, fear gripping your heart. Leveled at you, shit, you can see the rifling, is a large caliber handgun, likely a forty-four. The sir shriveled up and writhed, sans his head, and transformed into one of those awful black bugs.

“He was going to extract information from you and telepathically communicate it to the queen. No one lies to a dying man. These things have a hive mind. I know you’re not one of them, they don’t feel disgust, or they’re no good at faking it yet.” The man talking was none other than the executive officer Lieutenant General Comet Striker. What the fuck was he doing here?

“Tristan, are you alright?” he asked, eyes a warm, sweet green. Gosh, they were just pretty. “I’ve never seen you run off like that! Yer gonna freeze to death out here.”

“Sir?” You close your eyes and swallow, feeling so cold, painfully so. Your skin tingles with pins and needles, like a cold fire is burning you. You swallow and lean into the warm body holding you. “S-sir, he… he’s not human. He’s dead, he… oh, AJ.” You turn and hug her tight, burying your frozen face into the warmth of her neck. You sigh and take one deep breath. With another, you lean back and crack your neck. You rub your chin and check your hand, no vomit, at least as far as you can tell by moonlight.

Applejack sits silently. She’s either dumbstruck, doesn’t know what to say, or as you suspect, is wise enough to know better than talk right now. You swallow and wipe your face with snow, anyway, still feeling the changeling blood and sick all over it. The cold stings, but it’s a good pain, enough to remind you of reality. “Sorry,” you tell her. “It’s been years. I thought I was through all that.”

Applejack gently touches your bare, wet arm, then holds it close. “It’s alright, darlin. I’m here for you, always. We can sit out here for a little while longer… it’s a clear night. The hills look pretty in the moonlight.”

You nod, looking up from your feet. You rub them, getting a little circulation. The orchard sloped downhill, this pasture's acne scars covered with a blanket of blue midnight snow, a down pillow of fluffy cream smoothed over the awful land. Gently, the slope falls to the creek below, the one on one summer night you found love. The heat in Applejack reminds you well. Beyond were the wilder bits of the orchard, the trees a little less fruitful. Nonetheless they were groomed and harvested, yielding smaller, tarter fruit. Good for hard cider, you smile. The tree tops merge, indistinguishable more than a mile out, each tree blending into a sea of twiggy black, moonlight struggling to reflect effectively, despite Luna’s mighty show. The moon took the sun’s rays and shone them brilliantly, so bright it hurt to gaze across the white sea, or it would if your skin weren’t dying.

“Not for too long, Applejack. It’s below zero tonight.” You gulp, shivering, like her. She leans on you. God, why did she have to do something like that? How could anyone ever lean on you? You literally run from memories. “The hills are beautiful,” you say, smiling, despite yourself. She just had to run after. She’s going to catch a cold, probably be out of work for a day or so, or worse, power through it and make it so bad she’s OOC for more.

“You know you need to talk about it,” she said, and that was that.

“I know.” You sigh, the cold freezing your snot inside your nose, making you breathe through your mouth. It hurts your lungs to breathe. “I got hard, earlier.”

AJ giggles. “Yeah you did. I’m proud of you. Damn kin, don’t understand how much we needed that.”

“Lets get inside and warm up.”

“Don’t overdo it on the whiskey.”

You sniff, or try, and wipe your eye dry before your lashes freeze over. “I won’t.” They do anyway.

“Come on,” Applejack says, tugging your arm. You accept her help and stand, pulling her up next. You shiver and high step it up the hill, wishing you ran off uphill so you could return down instead. Granny shoos the teenagers off as Big Mac looks on, sliding off a thick workman’s jacket.

You swallow as he catches your eye. The days of fear of the big man had passed long ago, but maybe there was always an unspoken understanding. You were showing you might start harming his kin. He wouldn’t have that. You look at him sternly, he returns, not glaring, just looking. He’s concerned for the two of you.

AJ slides her hand down your arm again, and you take her hand as you enter the kitchen, big brother behind. You lean on the counter with AJ as he gives you two a blanket. “Thanks, Big Mac,” you say.

“Mmhmm.” Always one for brevity. Granny gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead, then, you as well. She leaves on her crickety, ninety year old hips.

AJ gives you a little kiss as Mac pulls down a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. “Did y’all git into my whiskey last night?” He asks innocently enough.

“Nope,” AJ replies for you. “We had plenty to drink with the girls after he got in on the train.”

Big Mac grunted. “Either yer lyin, Granny’s teeth are achin’, or Applebloom and her friends got some explaining to do.”

“Seein’ as I’ve got a reputation and Granny’s teeth are in a glass at her bedside, I’m fixin’ to bet our lil sis is feelin’ adventurous.”

Big Mac just sighed and poured three hefty glasses, looked at you, frowned, and gave one glass a healthy splash more. “Hey, at least she’s breakin’ the law at home. Don’t pretend that we didn’t get wild at her age.”

The draft horse of a man cracked a solemn little smile in the dim light cast from above the kitchen sink. Many meaninful discussions happened by that light at this time of night. He pulled the glasses forward, giving you the fullest. “Thanks again,” you say, accepting it. “Look,” you offer, sighing, AJ pulling the blanket closer around the two of you as she takes her glass. “I’m sorry for running off like that. It was years ago when the royal wedding… happened. It wasn’t exactly fun for a lot of the guards and townspeople. Imagine your best friends, guys you’d literally throw yourself in front of a bullet for, solid guys, shooting each other without a second’s thought because of… of what might be. I… holy... “

AJ plants her lips on your cheek. “Shh, shh that’s alright, baby,” she says, cupping your cheek.

You grip her thigh gently and let her know you’re solid once again. “Just, I need to say it.” You take a sip, then another, a breath, this was good whiskey, it tasted like dirty trash wood. You take one long gulp, making AJ’s eyes widen, Big Mac’s to a lesser degree. You burp and wipe the four-year old egg breakfast and beer from your lips. “I killed two good, good men. It… it could have been four, and watched another die, saw too many fucking bodies. And, and then we managed to get some semblance of control. AJ and her friends, they ran past, Celestia, I was so proud and happy. I, we rallied, managed to find more and more uncloaked bugs, put them down like mosquitos.

“I murdered my best friend. He had a kid on the way and I had no idea, til I showed up at his f-fian…” You take another drink. “Her door.. His girlfriend was a month pregnant. He was going to propose in two. He didn’t know. I… I held the woman who he loved as she cried. I...“ you swallow, draining the drink and blink back water. “I had to tell another guard’s parents I killed their son. A loser before he enlisted, but the kid was a hot shot. More medals than me in half my time. He had a lot of enlisted friends, and they all understood. But his parents, his fucking, his fucking dad punched me so hard, I bit part of my tongue clean off. Right there,” you say, opening your mouth in a tired smile and pointing to the slightly off shape on the right side of your tongue. “Said I should be in prison, said I deserved the fucking chair. He was right. He’s still fucking right.”

You slide to the floor and lean against the counter, sitting, empty whiskey glass and head hanging in your lap. “I killed them, I killed four people. I shot four people.”

Applejack drops next to you and hugs you close. She rubs your arms firmly, just leaning and breathing with you. Celestia, she was too good for this. You reach back and hug her swallowing. “I’m okay… I’m okay. Thank you, AJ.” You swallow and stand again, breathing in hard through your nose and breaking a snotty barrier, feeling power enough to live and come back. “I’m alright.”

Big brother nods, smiling warmly. He reaches out with his glass, holding his dense arm out stoically. “That’s the past. It’s war. I wanna say thank you, and I wanna offer my condolences for losing all those people. This land’s been through a hell of a lot, lately, and I’d say between the two of you, you both deserve a damn long break.”

AJ laughs shortly, smiling. “Eeyup.” She grins warmly and hold her glass out. “No foolin, sweetie,” she says to you. “You’ve been through a lot, and there’s no downplayin’ that round here. But that sun’s still gonna rise. I wanna be with you when it does.”

You swallow and wipe your eyes, feeling blood and vomit on your face again. You resist the urge to wipe it away. It still feels so real. “To a new day,” you say, able to wear an honest smile, the first one in years. You raise your glass, empty, and give them a hearty clink. The sibblings both pour a portion of their glasses into yours, rough equal parts three ways. You tilt your head and knock the whiskey back. Oh, it burned, a deep, red burn, like a long campfire, not like the cold burn in your toes and fingers, or the vomit-like burn of bile, evaporating in green flame. This burn is of wood and alcohol, and it’s physical, earthy.

Applejack kisses your cheek and slides her body in as close as can be. “Gonna need a beer, hun?” She asks, resting her head on your shoulder.

With a sigh, you set the glass on the wooden countertop and hold her close, smelling her soft, long blonde hair. Such a beautiful, strong girl, understanding, as much as anyone could be at this point. She was there, after all, likely not far from the bloodbath. How much did she have to see?

“Hun,” she says, and you realize you’re clutching her hair a little too hard. Instantly you take your hand away and rest it on the counter.

With a little frown, Big Macintosh takes your glass and sets it in the sink. “I’ll leave you two to the dishes. Goodnight. See you in the barn tomorrow, AJ, horses ain't gonna feed and groom themselves..”

“Night, brother,” she says sweetly, but she never leaves your side, even nuzzling in closer. She rubs her cheek into your shoulder warmly, biting her little lip. As the big bulky man climbs the creaky stairs, AJ’s hand touches your chest. “Mm, baby, I missed you so much, I just want you to be so happy.”

“I am, AJ,” you say immediately, taking her hand into yours. You kiss her head and hug her little waist close. “You’re too kind and perfect and beautiful. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Ow, flexing fingers hurt so much right now.

She smiled, oh Celestia that smile. “You had to drive that old piece of junk,” she said with a little laugh. “Oh, I still remember that first day. Gosh, we got right to it, didn’t we?”

You smile, recalling those events, on the blanket. So much sweat. “I didn’t know I was into squirters back then.”

“Oh, fuck, I exploded like a fucking fire hydrant,” AJ smiles and giggled. “Mmm, I wish I had time to meet you the night before, Tristan.”

“In Canterlot?”

AJ nods, rubbing her silky blonde hair into your face. “I was so mad when you left, but I was over it, I really was. I just wanted to see you, but,” she gulps and leans back. “I love you so much,” she sobbed. “Please, don’t ever leave, Tris.”

“I promise, I won’t,” you whisper, holding AJ close. She rolls to press her body into yours, breasts laying into your chest. The warm, squishing sensation would normally be incredibly hot… but dynamic perception, that was the buzzword Gunny had used, you don’t know what you had ‘til it’s gone.

You rub her back and try not to take her for granted. AJ was too precious: an immovable rock in an uncertain sea. You have changed; for the better, yet, the change was there. Maturity and knowledge, as well as a rounder butt, thanks to many many miles of rucking gear pointlessly were all blessings to an extent. You smile, grateful for all those years of discomfort, except the motorpool and armory waiting and fuckfuck games. You can’t help but chuckle, remembering the misery. Oh how good it was to be on the outside.

Applejack leaned her head back, eyes watery, an indignant frown on her face. “What’s so darn funny?”

You laugh again and rest your hands on her lower back, smiling down. You swallow, the knot in your throat suddenly feels manageable looking at Applejack.”It’s good to be… home. Not moving around, or stuck in an upscale prison of a barracks. But, with these heavy wood walls, the nice iron stove, a real house, as long as you’re here, I could see this being home for, um…”

You trail off, afraid of the sheer level of commitment you were nearly about to confess. Your eyes refuse to leave Applejack’s, as if caught in a spell. “For who, Tris?”

You return her little smile.

“Wait here,” you tell her, standing up. You fly up the stairs as she waits, holding both hands to her collar. You invert your giant green bag in her room and dump out all the clothes and uniforms and things inside. You turn on the light and rifle through the most squarely shaped, deeply packed items. There! A little square box with round corners, covered in velvet. You race downstairs, taking them two at a time and catch good purchase on the wood floor with your bare feet. You run forward, heart racing and not from the sprint. You round the counter and hold Applejack’s hands in your left, your right playing with the box behind your back, orienting it just right.

“Applejack,” you say with a full, somehow steady voice despite the hurricane of butterflies in your gut. “I was going to wait until dinner tomorrow, but,” you drop to one knee, smiling wide, the fluorescent light bouncing off the little navy blue box in your shaky upturned palm. “Will you make me the happiest man on the planet, and marry me?” Your eyes are on hers as hers are on your hand, you almost forget to open the box. She eyes the diamond ring and goes all squeaky, she never did that, jumping up and down twice. She shouts out ‘YES!’, and you stand to catch her in a tight hug.

“I suppose, us.” The leviathan words pop out, no more than little soap bubbles floating in the air, making the two of you grin wide.

A little moment passes, looking at her face and just grinning, giggling a little. AJ rushes forward and pecks your lips, then again, then falls into your body, hugging you as tight as she could. You return the favor, getting her vice-like grip to falter, the strong country girl not quite able to best marine muscle. You pick her up and plop her body on the counter. Not light, but not fluffy and unwieldy, AJ is a wonderful dummy to haul around. You give the girl a kiss on her forehead as she sits on the counter, gigling and grinning.

A blush on her face shows how warm she is. “Oh, sheesh, you drank twice as much as I did and I’m feelin’ it. Oh, darlin’, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, baby,” you say softly, sliding into her spread legs to kiss her deeply. You sigh and pull her body into yours, pressing those round tits into your chest. She moans at the amorous grasp, but…

You break away and go to the cabinet. “One little drink.” You don’t look back, but pour two drinks from Big Mac’s reserve. A small splash each. You return. “I’m not an alcoholic, despite what the corps tried to do to me. This,” you say, “is a special toast. AJ, I’ve never, ever told anybody what I saw other than the official debriefing. I just, thank you.Thanks for making me tell it. I don’t know what I’d do if I kept that bottled in. It was just, so…”

She silences you with a kiss, that awful, helpless guilt fades away. You smile, eyes closed, and kiss her again. “Drink,” you say softly, offering the glass, looking at her face. Your fabricated version of her blush is just a few shades deeper than this one.

AJ takes the glass and holds it up. “To the luckiest girl in Equestria, me,” she said. “I get to have such a strong man in my life, and I’m so grateful he’s mine.” How could you make if for forever?

“To Big Mac?” you ask, getting a slug in the arm. She laughs with you and clinks your glass.

“To us,” she says, then swallows the whiskey down. You follow right away, loving the burn, it’s a good one, one that reminds you of happier times when the worst thing about life was an extra early muster, a surprise ruck, douchebag first sergeants or dumb boots. Maybe enough would burn away the pain.

Applejack halts that train of thought before it departs the station. “Come, darlin’. It’s mighty late, and you’ve got a nice, warm, soft bed to climb into with me.” You set your glass in the sink, thirsty suddenly for another drink, but it’s not a need. You climb up the stairs again, AJ suddenly not in a rush. You realize before a few steps that she’s trying to draw your eye, and gets a pair of hands. “There ya are, honey,” she whispers, laughing. You push her up the stairs and into her bedroom, then close the door behind you.

The woman falls into bed, and you follow. You kiss her neck and undo her shirt, then the rest of her clothes as she clumsily rolls on top and helps you, stumbling as she turns to straddle your waist, bare ass facing your face. You grab it as she holds your half-hard manhood, taking it quickly into her warm, wet mouth. You kiss her round ass as she slurps up, then pull her waist down to your face. Her pussy lips are hot, and even shaven. “You were definitely trying to give me a warm welcome.”

Applejack rolls her hips down, moaning, trying to please your cock. You give her big butt a squeeze and push her up. “Sweetheart,” she protests, being made to sit at your side. “Are you not in the mood?”

She lays at your side and hugs you close. You can’t exactly speak, emotions suddenly flooding you, a relatively alien sensation. “It’s alright, darlin’,” she whispers, kissing your neck. “Just know I’m here for you.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just hugs you tight, no comment as you sob. There’s nothing to help it. There’s no shame in it. For once, a shoulder to cry on. And that’s just fine. It’s finally fine.

Blackness is torn away by the harsh, sudden glow of light. It’s understandable that a damn E-3 has to stand post at midnight, but can’t a guy get a fucking break? The midwatch tonight is-

You sit up, and feel nothing but a little headache, damn yellow morning sun. AJ’s room is relatively neat, all the furniture older than the two of you combined, the most modern item seems to be her alarm clock, which is still wind up. You swallow and swing your legs over. It’s still hard not to look for your combat boots and blousing straps, those cursed little elastic demons. You smile, but still feel a hollowness. You look over your shoulder at a messy blonde girl, sleeping a restless, alcohol-induced sleep. You stand, nude. A sniff makes you frown. You remember now, her mouth was down there. Celestia, it felt great, but the smell of dried saliva was far from that. You find your briefs and slip into them.

That clock, how old it was, read eight o’clock and some change. You sniff and try to remember the day. Thursday? Friday? It was hard to tell on leave, especially terminal. You finish getting somewhat dressed and walk to the door. You groan, turn and grab some shower gear, and look to AJ one last time. You wipe a persistent little eyebooger away, instantly remembering last night’s… cry. It’s almost surreal. You hadn’t cried, not really, since you were a little kid. You can’t even recall a specific time.

“Guess I was overdue,” you mumble, smiling at Applejack. You steal one kiss, making her face curdle. She’s likely in need of a bucket. Silly civilians, not having a reason to binge drink nightly.

You think on the way to the bathroom, walking past a particularly unsettling snoring noise from Applebloom’s room, if it was really all that bad. The tub, supported on four little nubs for legs, was old, yet clean. You climb in once the water is running and brush your teeth, a stupid time-saving habit. If civilians don’t drink at least a six pack every night, are they worse for it? You recall doubling that regularly. Why, then, did the military have such a shitty life? Sure, there was a call for discipline, but treating soldiers, sailors, and marines like humans couldn’t be too impossible, right?

As you rinse shampoo out of your hair, which was joyously growing out of regs, you ponder this. If the store opened at eight, why bother showing up before seven-thirty? You regularly mustered at the range an hour, or more, before muster, regularly! You spit and set your toothbrush down, then get to scrubbing your body. “Man,” you mutter, inspecting your toes and ankles, still red. “I’m lucky AJ found me when she did. I can’t believe I did that-”

A click. You lean forward and grab an invisible weapon at your, shaking your head. Damn active shooter drills. “Who’s there?” you call out.

“Tristan?” Applejack calls out, sounding utterly sick. “It’s me, hun.” She shuts the door behind her, walking in. Her silhouette is cast against the plain shower curtain, giving you a little show as she undresses. She turns to the side, and the shape looks that of a goddess. A well fed goddess.

You set your toothbrush down, smiling, realizing you were ready to use it as a knife. Fuck the corps. You laugh silently at yourself, grateful you can laugh at yourself now, and stand out of the stream of hot water. She steps forward and pulls the curtain aside, and you pounce. She squeals, being hoisted by her slim waist into the tub laughing voraciously. You bite her neck and hug her close, groaning in her ear. “Mmm, who dares invade my privacy?” you murmur in her ear, giving her a wet kiss.

“AH!” she shrieks, covering her mouth. “Tristan!” she hisses, giggling. AJ pushes back against you. “Gosh, you’re an animal!” Applejack laughs, though, pulling the curtain shut. “Oh, baby, don’t-gwah, don’t be movin’ me like that so suddenly. I can’t keep up with y’all soldier boys when it comes to the morning after.”

“What are you talking about?” you tease in her ear, cupping her breasts. “We’re going on a twenty mile ruck in five minutes. Grab your pack, what’s a hundred pounds?”

You pinch her nice, round breasts, resting your gruff chin on her shoulder. Wouldn’t a beard be nice? “Oh, I see you’ve already got your pack on,” you kiss her ear. “Or is it rack? I forget.”

Applejack giggles the entire time, surely everyone could hear. You relent a little, smiling as you finally feel a guilt-free erection. She sighs, silenced by you massaging her thighs, now, your pecker prodding her round, firm cheeks. “Ah, all them hikes and PT sure made you nice and fit, T,” AJ moans over her shoulder, hands reaching back to touch your buttocks. You stand tall and press your hips forward, giving her a flexed marble statue to feel, you watch her bite her lip.

The girl smiles wide, rubbing her nose against your neck as you grab some girly bar soap, thankfully not apple-scented. Even the Apples must have had a limit on how much apple they allowed in their day to day. You start with, naturally, her round breasts. They were just as perky as they were four years ago. The only real change, you think to yourself, is the sheer length of her hair. Uncut for most of her life, Applejack sure had a knack for growing out that mane. You massage her back next, flipping that blonde mass over her shoulder and admiring that...

“Oh my god,” you murmur, inspecting her.

She looks over her shoulder, wiping water from her eye. “What is it? What?!”

“This!” You softly shout, holding your hands out, showcasing her, her! “You, oh, my, god! Applejack, you’re too beautiful. I, this back is so fucking sexy. No artist could sculpt a being this fine.” The words falling into the wet, warm air were honest as facts. You touch her as she blushes, slowly massaging clean soap over her body, your dick growing stiff for her.

She rolls her eyes, but her face is red. “Mmm, you flatterer,” she whispers. AJ stands statue still for you as you bring your body forward and clean her perfectly strong ass. Her wide hips made this so much better. You kiss her lips, her foul morning mouth not even registering. You are so indulged in her, all of her, breath included. You sigh and slip your tongue into her mouth, but she retreats.

“Darlin’, I ain’t in much of a state to be kissin’ on your fresh mouth,” she said retreating.

You kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry, AJ, I don’t even mind at all.”

She turns and kisses you again smiling, but only a long peck. “As in, if you grabbed me a little tighter, I might lose last night’s dinner. I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I can’t keep up with y’all.”

You laugh shortly, feeling as if you had personally wounded this beautiful creature. “That’s alright, AJ. Let’s get you squeaky clean, then we can do… whatever I’m supposed to do on vacation. I only took leave twice before, and all we did was-”

“Oh! I remember my last birthday well, loverboy. I had to peel myself off the sheets.”

“Good thing we got a hotel,” you laugh. “I was sort of backed up.”

Applejack laughs, then gags. “Don’t make me think of swallowing yer cum again, baby. I’m sick as is.”

You relent and grab her shampoo, the expensive stuff. “This doesn’t exactly suit you, baby. ‘Elusive Noir’? Who even names this stuff?”

It sure smelled nice. “Ugh, my girlfriends thought you’d like it, you know how they can be.”

“What, generous? That’s the opposite of a problem, AJ.”

She laughs. “I call it imposing. Speakin’ of, the girls wanted to take us out to dinner tonight.”

“I remember,” you say, working in a ‘generous’ dollop into that long, long mane, it went to her round, firm ass. You give her a squeeze while you’re down there working the mix into her tips.

AJ sighs, turning to lean against the shower wall. In this case, the plain-old wall. “Ever had Germane?” she asks, looking at you with one adorable green eye.

After a stolen kiss, you bring her to you, to rest your cock on her ass as you rinse her hair. “I’ve been to Germaney twice, baby.”

“Ah!” she giggles. “I can’t believe I forgot! Shame on me.” AJ sighs as you grab her hips, her hair suds-free and impossibly soft.

“That noir stuff sure does make your hair soft, AJ.” You tell her, lips on her ear once more. You touch her breasts, just to touch them. The soap, unfortunately, dries out skin on the touch, making her feel a little rubbery. Applejack kills the water and steps out, leaving you feeling frozen again.

She wraps her mane in a towel, a big one, and laughs. “Glad you like it, sugarcube. I might actually have to buy some from Rarity, seein’ as you’re here for good and all.” She tenses up, squatting and bending over in a spastic fit. “Oooooh, I can’t believe it! I get to say that! You’re here! For good! Oh, Tristan, it’s been such a long time! I can’t believe I took you for granted way back when. I promise, I’ll cherish every moment with you.” She kisses you once more, hugging you tight. You return the kiss, hands on her lower back. She moans, lifting a leg, leaning her soft, wet tits into you, til she suddenly pulls off. AJ bends over the sink and looks ready to expell as mentioned, but she gags and hold on. “Ah… I think I need just… a little time to sleep this off. Ugh, my guts feel like they’re trying to claw their way up and out my throat-ugh!”

“I’ll get you some water, baby,” you tell her, stroking her back. With a little peck on her cheek, you retrieve a fresh towel from the closet. You dry off, often looking over her beautiful body, and pluck up yesterday’s dirty clothes. “I’ll bring you some soda and water, AJ. Just go ahead and lay back down.”

“Tristan?” she asks as you reach for the door.

You turn and face her. “What?”

She swallows. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted some in the shower, but I, I just-”

“Shh,” you silence her. “It’s alright, AJ. We can have ‘some’ anytime we want. It’s not like I’m on leave and I’ll be gone at the end of the week.”

“Oh, don’t say things like that, Tristan.” Applejack sits on the toilet, smiling, resting her cheek on her hand. “It’s like when things are goin’ to shit, so you say ‘at least it isn’t raining’, then it starts to fuckin’ rain.” She laughs dryly, then sighs. It’s a happy, warm sigh, one of content. “Love ya.”

“I love you, too, Applejack.”

They day was a lovely, lazy winter day. The sky was clear, but you somehow don’t feel like playing in the snow with Applebloom and her gal pals, despite their attempt to drag you along. Big Mac only had a little grunt to say at the considerable amount of fine whiskey you and his sister wasted last night. Wasted, of course, being a relative term. You vow to return what you took, but he doesn’t seem so upset at any rate. They day crawled along, with plenty of lounging and napping by the fire under a wool blanket with Applejack and her unbrushed hair. Just this once, chores be damned. You hold her tight and watch the logs crackle for a few hours while she snoozes, just like her granny in her rocking chair. The light chores to be done are taken care of by yourself and the youngin’s, just sweeping and dusting and tending to the animals. You have a light lunch, a little ham sandwich, of which AJ manages a few bites. You tease her, but not much. Sunset comes, along with a doorbell.

Applebloom runs and answers it as you stretch, feeling a little overnapped. You stand, waking Applejack at last. “How you doing, AJ?” you ask as she sits upright. She gives you a little hug and rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“Mmmmm,” she groans. “Slept to darn much.” She lets out a long yawn. “Who’s at the door?”

“APPLEJACK!” Applebloom shrieks, what an awful noise. “IT’S YER GIRLFRIEND!”

“Honestly, Applebloom, we aren’t dating!” A woman’s voice carries around the corner as she enters. A tall, slim woman, about AJ’s height, but missing about thirty pounds of meat. The pole of a woman smiles bright, seeing the messy pile of humans in the living room by the fire. “Tristan!” she says brightly, lowering her purse to the end table near the sofa you are climbing up and out of, followed by AJ, in no particular hurry. “Are you well? It’s hardly the time for sleep.”

“Rough night last night,” you answer, accepting a hug. AJ only grins.

“We’re fine, Rarity,” she says with a little laugh. “Tristan just drank me under the table is all, so we spent the day lounging and recovering.”

“Well, I hope you’re up for dinner, then,” she says over your shoulder, finally pushing away. Her perfume isn’t quite choking, but it isn’t quite as fresh and inviting as a little natural, clean smell, like Applejack was keen to wear.

“Absolutely, sugarcube. I hope you don’t mind waitin’ on me brushin’ up my hair. I’m a right mess.”

“Not at all, darling!” She helps her up, giving her a hug, too. “Oh, it’s so sweet to see you two together again. I can’t express how happy I am for you two.”

“No need, Rarity,” she says, looking into those bright blue eyes. Surely there was a man who gazed into those regularly. Or, maybe a lot of men. She was wearing a long, stylish black coat, but her heels, jewelry, and less than modest makeup sure looked like an invitation. Not inviting, but an invitation. Maybe Applejack’s green eyes had already stolen a bit of that killer instinct in your core.

“We in a rush?” AJ asked, scratching her side, lifting up her soft cotton undershirt to do so. She was wearing just that and some shorts, god, they were gorgeous on her. She wore the lazy sunday look well.

Rarity giggled. “Reservation’s at nine, darling. Take your time, and don’t overdress. It’s only a little local restaurant.”

“Germane, right?” you ask. “I wonder if they have Schwarzwaldküche.”

From Rarity you learn of recent events over Ponyville way. A slew of day to day mundanities, you know: monster invasions and weddings, to the naturally universe threatening battle between her royal Highness Twilight Sparkle and that Tirek guy. You listen intently, glad for the fresh perspective as AJ freshens up. You follow suit shortly after, only putting on deodorant, washing your face, and slipping into a nice button down shirt. You leave your flask behind in your bag, a bag that really should be unpacked. A little combing, and you look well enough for a nice dinner out with AJ and her friends. Your friends, now, you reason.

Even with awful roads, the drive across town to the establishment is a mere forty minutes. You help AJ out of the car. She’s wearing a flowing little green dress, complimented by a long brown coat, covering her legs well enough. Her neck is covered by a white scarf, a garment that would nearly look alien on her, save for the way it matched her outfit. She looks fit to dine out or rustle cattle in this little thing, complimented naturally by her stetson. All she needed was a six shooter and a bandolier. Maybe the bandolier was overkill.

You hold her hand in the crook of your arm as you walk inside. It seems you three are the last to arrive, behind the other five. Fluttershy, the little busty woman, had a man of her own, and she’s sporting a fresh rock on her finger. You feel in your pocket for the-

Fuck. God… fucking dammit. You swallow, feeling calmly in your coat and shirt pockets, touching your rear pocket and smiling, pretending to find your wallet.

“Rarity wouldn’t be NOT fashionably late if it killed her.” You laugh quietly at Rarity with AJ as the slim girl leads the way to the table.

“AJ! And her plus ONE!” Pinkie Pie, who could forget her? Memories of three and foursomes of summers passed as you accepted a full bodied hug, to include those impossibly huge jugs. Goddess, they had to be H-cups or something. You exchange lengthy pleasantries with the rest, but as you sit between AJ and Pinkie, you feel cornered. It’s not an unwelcome feeling. Applejack makes sure you understand who you’re with, though, with a stealthy cupping. You gladly look away from that cleavage…. So deep… Pinkie’s v-neck was so fucking low. Oh, goddess, what was one more threesome?

“Tristan,” a girl asks, you have to look up rapidly to see lips moving to spot the owner. It’s the purple-haired princess, Twilight Sparkle.

Wouldn’t Blue sell his soul for this? She’s tall, curvy, and extremely attractive, in an innocent, benevolent kind of way, like a librarian? “I hear you’re getting out of the Canterlot Guard Corps,” she says with a smile. “Are you excited for civilian life?”

Such an innocent question. “Honestly, I couldn’t be more excited if I tried,” you answer. “Last day was five days ago. I’ve done my duty, and I want to finally return to Applejack and make a life here in Ponyville.”

“But what’s a guard got to do on the outside?” Rainbow Dash asks, her hair making it easy to identify her. “You’re trained to shoot and stand still!”

“Rainbow!” Rarity hisses.

“What? It’s true. Wonderbolts actually get to fly.”

She seems to pout, but it’s well enough. “You’re right,” you counter. Rainbow Dash seems pleased at first, but she sits up, a little embarrassed as you fill her in, her bully tactic, intentional or not, undermined completely. “I mean, there’s not much value in self discipline, honor, or the required weekly landnav and survival exercises. It would be amazing to be a pilot, but there’s skills to be-”

“Oh, hey there, Berry!” Applejack says, regarding he busty waitress with a cup of your groin, cutting you off before you either open a can of worms or get a taste of your own foot. “Hey, we were just looking over the drink menu!”

“I wasn’t,” the pink-haired girl says, wearing the most modest sweater ever. Her gold ring on her finger, however, shines in the light. Her, holy Celestia, those were a set of breasts hidden in that thick sweater. Was there something in the water here? All the girls were sporting some serious chest. Her husband was just as quiet as her, a rather unassuming guy with brown hair. Stock as they come. Looked fine enough, though.

“Gin and tonic?” the traditionally dressed waitress asked pointing her pen at Rarity, her cleavage trying to rival Pinkie’s. She nods, making an affirmative little hum. The redhead jots down a few letters, then regards Rainbow, to her immediate left, directly in front of you. “Hmmm, you like… Oh, you’re cutting carbs, you’d like a glass of water, right, Rainbow?”

“Nah, tonight’s a little bit special. I’ll take a whiskey and diet coke.” She sits back, arms behind her head. She had some decent B-cups, too, and her fingers were bare. Jeez, was she crazy or a dike? Both seemed likely. Whoever was laying pipe in her was either lucky or doomed.

“You got it, Dash. Fluttershy?” she asks, writing. “You always like something different.”

She swallows, and picks up the drink menu. “U-um,water, please,” she says, blushing. “I’m not drinking tonight.”

“Same,” the man says plainly. What a boring guy. But, Fluttershy’s taste was her own.

“All yours, sweetheart. Something sweet, Pinkie?” And now, you notice again, Berry Punch is sporting quite a set. It must be the water, or the hormones in the beef, or something.

She giggles and grips your knee, leaning forward and resting those big breasts on the table. “Uh, Long Island for me, Berry. And don’t worry, Twi is driving.”

“Good to know. Thanks in advance, princess,” she says with a little wink. “And for the sir?”

You look to AJ, but she merely smiles. “Whiskey on the rocks, please. Two.”

“You got it, hun. You’re together?” she asks you and AJ, the both of you nod. “Cute couple,” she coos. “Water for the princess?” she asks, getting a little nod. “Alright, I’ll get you your drinks in a jiffy. Special’s on the menu-”

“PRETZEL!” Pinkie blurts, giggling. “Two big ones, with that special mustard! That’s a good appetizer!”

“If you don’t plan on fitting into a flight suit any time soon.” Pinkie giggled, but Rainbow Dash looked more sad than snide.

AJ laughs with her, leaning back against the wall. Pinkie leans over and asks Twilight something as Berry writes some more. “Two pretzels coming right up. Menus are on the table. I’ll be back in a second with your drinks and take your orders, everyone.”

“Thank you, darling,” Rarity said, accompanied shortly by everyone else. Her long black hair up in a curly bun arrangement-thing. God, she did know her way around a brush and a set of curlers. Her hands were free from jewelry, you notice, as she picks up a menu, her nails painted blue, matching her earrings. Normally, such things would never interest you. However, since spying the modest rock on Fluttershy’s finger, you can’t help but see these things and compare to the one in your bag. Damn ring. Of course you had to forget it.. You wonder if anyone else notices the absence of metal on your and AJ’s hands.

The thought comes in casually, but it sits it’s fat ass down with a thunk and makes your brain rattle. Marriage. The simple notion, it’s terrifying. You look to the menu and try to distract yourself.

“What looks good, hun?” Applejack asks as she leans in, touching your shoulder.

You frown and try to translate without the description in Equestrian. A four-month deployment in Germaney was great practice. “This… um, has cheese. That’s meat,” you grit your teeth. “This one’s just cabbage. Seriously, who would eat that?”

“I would!” Pinkie says, her face suddenly next to yours. Both girls laugh, and suddenly, a hand is in your lap under the table. It isn’t AJ’s. “But I think you already knew that I swallow,” she whispered in your ear.

“Pinkie,” AJ says sternly, but still smiling. You just sit and take it, letting cards fall where they may.

The other girl scoffs. “So I’m out of the loop, now? Am I no longer welcome to your pants parties?”

You breathe out through your nose, trying not to laugh at the quiet argument. “Maybe later, Pinkie,” AJ says, laying her hand on your other thigh. You sneak a peek over the menu and catch Rarity’s eye. She only winks and looks back down. She sure had a lot of makeup on for a little night with the girls. Or was she just like that? “Tristan's been gone for a long while and he needs a little one-on-one TLC. Ain’t that right, sugar?”

“Pinkie,” you say as her hand moves north to touch a semi-hard bulge. “I love the attention, but, maybe later. I’m kind of not exactly ready for a sweaty threesome.”

“Those are the best, right?” she says, leaning back. She gives your groin one last little squeeze and leans back. “That’s alright, I don’t wanna make my friends upset. Do what you need to.” She sits up and slides out her phone, instantly opening a dating app, she seems pretty popular.

“You three know what you want?” Twilight asks, looking up from a little pocket Germane dictionary she was referencing.

“Something light,” AJ says, smiling up at you. “My appetite isn’t as big as it usually is.”

“And this menu is carb carb city,” Rainbow says, flipping through it. “Those Germane supermodels sure as shit don’t eat local. It’s all bread, potatoes and beer!”

“That’s the best part!” Pinkie giggles. “I know what I want.”

“Me, too,” Fluttershy says, her husband just as quiet as her. She was looking a little “healthier” since you last remember seeing her. Maybe time was just catching up to her. She couldn’t have been over twenty-five or so.

You put your menu down, finding the one dish you remember loving back across the pond. “I’m ready.”

“As am I.” Rarity brushed an errant bang back across her ear. She sure had mass up there.

Twilight slapped her menu closed with a leathery thump. “Looks like we’re set then, since Rainbow’s going to have the diet water.”

Everyone had a little giggle as Berry stepped up, sporting a tray full of drinks. Rarity got her gin, Pinkie her Long Island, Dash her coke drink, you and AJ whiskey, something she seems to flock to as of late. A round of thanks were given, as were orders for hot food. You pick something with what you think must be pork. Pinkie insisted the food was great, no matter what you ordered.

Conversation ensued. Up til now, things had been a little awkward, but pleasant. Now, dialogue flowed quite naturally, with you not in the spotlight, despite being the guest of these girls. AJ holds your hand under the table, whispering comments to you, making Dash blush. The time flies. Twilight tells the story, with the tone of exhaustion and modesty, of how she conquered the most intimidating foe they had fought: a monstrous creature, some say he was a centaur. Pinkie’s grand embellishments are dispelled by a blushing princess, but everyone laughs anyway. The magical power involved, the might of four princesses, was dwarfed by a combination of sheer will and, of course, harmony magic, the most powerful in recorded history. You’re grateful such a weapon literally requires goodwill to wield.

Just as her tale draws to an end, Rainbow begins another, slightly smaller in scale, but she’s clearly so deeply rooted in the grandiose nature, it’s no less entertaining. Her boastful ways surely spice up the retelling of her battle. Her tale began. She retells a lesser known adventure, but one no less dangerous. Ever a magnet for danger, the six girls had been called into a new, yet familiar place: their dreams. Rainbow starts off with the princess of the night gathering them urgently into Twilight’s new castle to sleep, under the effects of the princess’s spell. They chased an apparition, a ghostly creature who jumped between realms as easily as Twilight jumped into books. The story is enthralling, and the woman has everyone on the edge of their seat, even if six of eight were there in person. The final fight seemed impossible. The Tantabus was on the precipice, the threshold, the very brink of penetrating it’s way through the veil and infecting the waking world, where it would be impossible and with constant supply of doubt and fear. But, thanks to heroic shows of ferocity, the insecurities of the famous, loved princess melted, and with them, the demon’s power. Rainbow told of her leading the entire town, yet, the town of thousands, in a charge for the creature, rending it with a lance of literal, physical hope, like a weaponized sliver of moonlight. An uplifting story with an explosive climax, Rainbow sat back, all but pointing a smoking six shooter to the brim of a mud-speckled stetson brim and blowing out the smoke trailing from the muzzle.

“Okay,” Twilight says, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Suffice it to say, you boys, that that wasn’t exactly how it went.”

“More or less, though,” Rainbow grinned.

Pinkie let out a laugh, and everyone was smiling. “So Dash likes to talk tall, we all were there, Twi.” AJ leans forward, touching your shoulder.

“It’s a better story that way, and she’s not really far off. The people of Ponyville sure did do their part. And I swear, Dash, that damn Tantabus gets taller each time you tell that story.”

She only shrugged. “Sue me. I liked it! What’d you think, Tristan?”

With a little gulp, you look back to all seven people looking at you. Was it warm in here? “Well, sure seems stranger than fiction. Kinda weird to think an entire town fought a monster in a dream together.”

“Oh, it’s documented,” Twilight said. “And not the first documented case of shared dreams. Princess Luna is pretty spectacular.”

“Yeah. She sure likes to dream,” Rarity said with a little sip of her drink. “I was going through one particularly rough soiree a year or so ago. My little sister was quite troubled with a bout of jealousy, nearly sabotaging a vital little bit of work I had, and, well, I’m afraid I’m not one for telling stories. The princess arrived in person and helped to give Sweetie Belle a change of heart. Oh, I was so proud!”

Twilight coughed, and Dash leaned in. “Rarity, you’re leaving out all the good stuff! What about the gut-wrenching choices? The dark sense of overwhelming hatred and jealousy!”

Rarity scoffed. “Darling! A sisterly spat doesn’t have ‘dark, overwhelming’ hatred.”

Pinkie laughed. “Girls, come on. Food’s coming, let’s dig in and figure out what we wanna do for the rest of the night!”

As if on cue, the door to the kitchen swings open, and out came two massive, round trays balanced on two hands, eight large plates on, a foldable table in the crook of the arm of the busty waitress. “How did you-”

You’re cut off by a little laugh in your ear. “Don’t question it, hun,” AJ says at your side. “Pinkie’s always been like that. She knows some stuff before it happens. Usually when it’s mighty convenient.”

You look at her and she winks, swiping away at her phone. Attention turns to Berry Punch as she serves up dinner. She hands out the dishes to an eager crowd, and you all dig in quickly. The fare is, as Dash said, laden with delicious carbs and fat. Well, some dishes. AJ and Rainbow both, uncharacteristically for the former, enjoy a salad, while Pinkie and Fluttershy, uncharacteristic for the latter, have a hunk of roast. Conversation for the while is sparse and light, a few questions for John, Fluttershy’s spouse, and a few for Twilight and Pinkie as they plan the rest of the night. A movie night for all interested. Rarity and Twilight both offer to host, but Pinkie insists. Fluttershy calmly declines, holding onto her husband’s hand. Dash checks her phone one last time, then says she can’t. A total of zero pressing reveals she has a hot date, at midnight.

“Whaddya think, darlin’? Wanna go?” AJ asks, stroking your thigh.

You lean in and look at her great green eyes. “What do you want to do?” you ask.

She looks down, her hand slipping up a little higher and squeezing. “Well, I don't’ right know. We could go, or we could go home for the night. I’m feeling better than I was,” she says with smile and a kneading of her hand on your thigh. What she was looking for was hard, and she could feel it. You weren’t exactly fond of the idea of going back home and disappointing again.

“Hmmm, why don’t we head back home, then?” you say, hoping to provide. A happy smile grows across her face.

Applejack pecks your cheek softly and returns to look at her cleaned plate. She sighs, swirling the last of her whiskey. “Well girls, looks like we’re gonna pass, sad to say.”

“That’s fine,” Pinkie perks. “Hey,” she says, pulling her phone out and showing Rarity. “Whaddya think? Wanna invite him, too?”

Rarity’s makeup doesn’t hide the color draining from, then rapidly returning to her face. “Oh, no, no no, darling. I know him. That’s just, no!”

“Oh, crap, I didn’t even notice! Strings looks totally different.”

“Yeah, no,” Rarity says flatly. She stated qutie flatly. “Not after what he did.”

“I had no idea it was so serious,” Fluttershy said, idly rubbing her neck.

Rarity waved it off. “Enough about that. Pinkie, if you do find a cute boy, please do be sure to not invite him if I’m coming. I’d rather not be in the same situation twice in such a short time.”

“Oh, no, that goes without saying Rares. But, you did just say, so, well, it goes with saying, too.” Pinkie giggled, as she was prone to, and leaned forward. “I completely understand.”

AJ looks up and sees your evidently puzzled look, then leans in to whisper. “Long story. Rarity’s ex was a bit of a, whatcha callit, satanist? No, the type that’s into pain and such in the bedroom-”

“Sadist,” Pinkie less than softly slips to the two of you.

AJ rolls her eyes, but Rarity looks away, sipping her water.

“Girls night!” Twilight says brightly, obviously trying to salvage things. The ladies perk up and rally around their leader in a moment of darkness. The check and mandatory doggy bags for most everyone, save Pinkie, AJ and yourself, come. With them is the slow, full-bellied retreat of everyone back to the cars. Rarity gives the freshly reunited couple, yourself and AJ, a lift back to her farmhouse, while the other girls depart for their ventures.

With a long hug goodbye, AJ parts from the dark-haired, drop dead gorgeous designer. AJ’s earthen charm captures your arms and climbs the shallow, snowpacked driveway to the farmhouse.

“It’s pretty late, but I’m not so tired, darlin,” AJ says as she opens the unlocked door to the silent house. “What do you wanna do?”

Without a word, you turn to give her a warm kiss. “Would you like to share a drink and head upstairs?”

AJ leans up to give you a wet little peck on the lips, then the chin, lingering in your guard to just enjoy your body. “Sounds wonderful, darlin’.” She slips her hands down your body, palms tracing your shirt. You head inside with her, carefully and quietly kicking off your boots near the door.

The beautiful girl pulls out a flask from behind a cookie jar above the fridge and takes a pair of glasses from the cupboard. She adds a healthy splash to each, then two ice cubes. “Just some corn whiskey my uncle in the Appleachian mountains stilled.”

“Same one who’s blind now?” you ask, taking a cautionary sniff of the shine.

Applejack punches your arm, but laughs. “Sure is. He’s been blind since his first batch of shine, though. I think he’s gotten a bit better since.”

“I’m trusting my sight to a blind moonshiner,” you shake your head. “Here’s to old grandad’s mountain dew.”

Applejack lifts her glass in the dark of the kitchen, offering a toast.

With a clink, you knock your drink with hers and take a long, hard swill, taking nearly half the drink down, and attacking AJ the second her lips return from a grimace. You press your lips firmly with hers, listening to her swallow, then let out a long, soft moan as she wraps her free arm over your neck. You suck her lush lower lip and press her into the counter, careful of both beverages in the dark.

She hops up, sitting on the hardwood with that amazing apple ass. She pulls you in for one last wet kiss. “Feel like heading upstairs? I’ve got one hell of a welcome home present for you.”

“AJ,” you sigh, resting your head on hers, inhaling with your nose and feeling, smelling the warmth of her breath. “I, you know I can’t-”

“Hasn’t stopped you from trying. Remember two years back? On leave, we went to that little hotel in the red light district of Canterlot.”

“How could I forget?” you ask, smiling with you. It’s impossible not to give her a warm, wet kiss.

She continues in the dark. “You were throbbing so hard. I just had to keep stroking, and you managed.”

“That didn’t count. It was pre leaking out. Remember when we first met? I came like a cannon.”

She kisses your pursed lips as you swallow back a lump. You let her suck your lips softly, touching the shape of your collarbone. “I think we should try one last time. I know you can do it. Keeping it up ain’t no chore, but I know you wanna finish. I just wanna make you happy, baby. You’re my world.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You rest your cheek on her head, pressing your body forward til your hips meet the counter between her knees. She curls her feet behind your knees and hugs your tight. “I love you,” you whisper, letting her soft, fragrant, long golden hair soak up one little tear.

Without so much as a pause, she hugs you tight, and you can’t hold back a small shudder. “I love you too, darling. Hey,” she speaks up a little, leaning back. “Maybe we had a breakthrough last night. I bet you’ll cum if I give you it all. You always like it when I’m on top.”

You smile, looking at her. Nightvision had started to grow in the dimness, and AJ’s body was just a little brighter in her dress. “Worth a shot. Anything for you, Applejack.”

She lifts her cup to her lips again, smiling that beautiful straight-toothed smile. She closes her eyes and takes a gulp, wincing. You drain your drink with ease, and let out a little burp, not apologizing to a soul. Applejack struggles a drink, another, another, and finally lets you polish off the last gulp. It's nothing to joke about. The firewater she had stashed away was surely more potent than most anything from a bottle.

Applejack leads you up the stairs, teasing by wiggling her big, round, tight butt in a sudden stoppage, but she doesn’t flinch as you bury your face in her flesh. She giggles voicelessly, gyrating her hips some, falling forward as you push her on. She skips up the steps barefoot to her room and immediately starts to slip out of her gorgeous little green dress. The moonlight casts its cold winter glow into her frigid room. Since you last saw, not much had changed. A few more momentoes from her travels, spectacular and pedestrian alike adorned the walls and flat surfaces, bringing character to the little farmgirl’s bedroom.

There she stands, in her modest cotton underwear, arms close at her sides. From her strong ankles and thick, supple, strong thighs sprouts the rest of her body, starting at her wide hips. There’s a visible gap right at the center of her lower body’s symmetry, two faintly distinct yet healthy lips sit inside the soft support of cotton, the homemade rug visible behind her there. The pubic bone casts straight, carved lines leading to the top of her hips, the angle perpendicular to the curves of her waist, which is modest and slender. Her flat stomach has a hard set of abdominal muscles, lacking no femininity. The line laying across her navel draws upwards to her sternum, the peak of which joins her nearly invisible ribs. Just up were the healthiest, most perfectly fitting breasts that would never succumb to a cup designation, filling a man’s hands perfectly should she choose to let one hold them. The little pink nipples were hiding, but rigid from the cold, showing vividly through her bra. The straps of it led to her shoulders, work hardened and grown with meals of meat and potatoes. And of course, that heart-breaking, innocent face. Each freckle unique, from her chin to her button nose, showing off her bright eyes the color of spring leaves catching a warm afternoon sun. Cascading across her forehead and over those strong shoulders was golden lengths of cornsilk softer than down feathers, smelling of everything a woman should and nothing more.

She placed a hand on her hip, smiling wide. “I know we had our roll in the hay the other evening,” she said softly, as if trying to sneak out in her teen years. “But I want to make this night a little more special than a quickie.”

You swallow, releasing a breath you did not know you had held in. With great effort, you work your mind for words to say. When none come, you simply step forward and take her by her hips. Nothing is needed. You kiss your woman, and she kisses her man. No teenage, sloppy, passionate and furious tongue thrusting, no disheartened peck, it is a kiss meant for a lover. You press firmly, inhale deep through your nose, show her with a pair of hardened hands on her statue-perfect body how much she deserves. You break only to close the door and take off your shirt, a decent button down, and work on your belt.

Applejack slips into the bed, laying on her front, quickly bundling up and shivering in the frigid down comforter. You drop your pants and underwear on the floor and slip inside, instantly hugging her tight with your nude body, penis erect and slipping over her hot, soft skin. She moans and lays on you, compressing her breasts and lips against you. With warm hands, you hold her round butt, slipping her underwear down. AJ sacrifices touch to undo her bra and let the staps dangle around her shoulders as she slides her tongue deep into your moaning mouth.

The cheeky teenage need for quiet and guile dissolves into a hedonistic need to fulfill pleasure of every sense. Applejack sighs and moans as you touch her, throaty breaths rasp from your desirous mouth, licking and kissing her neck as you feel the heat of her womanly lips. They’re soft and warm on the outside, but wet and searing hot just between those outer folds. You carefully massage her with your fingers, getting them thoroughly wet as a tingly feeling grows over your lips; the shine makes you smile and buck your hips, pressing your stiffness into her belly.

Applejack spreads her legs wide and bends her knees, touching yours with her toes. One thick pointer finger dives slowly into that perfect canal, not virgin, but unsullied by a childish search for teenage love. She rolled her hips, pushing with her shins up and down over your body, rubbing your chest with hers, pulling her bra down as she moaned in your ear half words and nothing. You feel her cervix, a dimple in a subdermal mound of denser flesh than the hotness that encases your finger. Your tip circles around, feeling the recesses around the sides, the details fuzzy and hard to distinguish. Your throbbing cock is leaking again, something it hasn’t done since she last vigorously stroked away. Her hand slips down to feel that pole with the damp, warm, pulsing tip. She sighs fresh into your ear, her cheeks likely smiling as it presses into your temple. You pull out your finger and give the hood unknown to many men a vigorous press and shake. Those round shoulders buckle, knocking into your chin. You masturbate the girl stroking you off with a firm, practiced grip for a long minute. Her hand is amazing, and you hope you can keep up.

What’s next is obvious. She lifts her hips, looking into your eyes as she stands on knees and an elbow, her other arm aiming your weapon. “I love you,” she breathes, smiling wide.

You kiss her deep, and let her pull away. As she does, you return the statement. “I love you, Applejack.”

She lowers those strong hips and whines out, a soprano trill tickles the walls and surely leaks out the door. The frigid sheets are now nice and toasty, but the stiffness has remained in those nipples. AJ sinks her body onto you, slipping the thick pole she made stiff into her slit you made soaking wet.

“A-aah! Tristan!” she calls out unashamed, eyes clenched shut, smile faltering as she works her mouth. She grits her teeth and sinks down all the way, the smile with returning every inch that fills her. You grab those hips tight and lay your lips on her neck, abs clenching up to hold her closer.

Applejack, arches her back as you hold her as tight as possible. She is in control of her hips, but you control her whole body. With sure motions, you thrust up into her, filling her hard with your penis. She rolls her hips down, stuffing the long pole even deeper inside.

You lift her up and pull your hips back, spreading your legs slightly. In a rolling thrust, you inject yourself deep and hard, filling her up, then roll again, again, again, pumping her wet pussy with slow, sure motions. A long groan escapes your lips as you use her little pussy to milk your own dick. She’s in love with it, hand grasping your shoulder, her hips moving with you, eager to ride.

A minute goes by, the pace picking up over time, now rapid. She arches her back, throwing her head back and sitting tall, pushing off. “Ah, that’s it, you like it, don’t you?” she asked with a little giggle. “Come on, you know I’m yours. Take me.”

With that you grab her hips and pull her down as you forcefully thrust up into her body. She bounces, falling forward to lean over you with her arms out straight. You pull her hips firmly, the skin so soft and hot, her pussy so wet. Your hard dick throbs, the numbness there makes you press your head back, clenching your eyes shut.

Quickly you open them, no need to see that right now. You pant out, pushing your face into her healthy, swinging breasts, smiling and squeezing them. AJ giggles her precious little laugh and leans into you all her weight as you pump away in her. Sweat covers both your bodies. The bedroom air is thick with sex.

You hold AJ tight and roll over quickly, burying your face in her neck, grunting softly as you lay into her. “Ah!” she moans out, despite her rule for keeping quiet in the house. You lay your hips against hers, staying nestled deep inside as she fixes the blankets over the two of you. Tongue first you kiss her, groaning, tasting her breath, rolling your hips and laying your cock as deep in her as you can, over, and over, and over. Fast at first, but then more hard, breathing over her face, clutching her soft hair, her neck, her collar, her waist, lifting her up.

“AJ,” you pant out, rolling your hips. Your hard cock feel so fucking amazing, you just can’t stop. With a little shift, you lift her hips up and pull her into your thrusting body. Her body is so wet, covered in sweat, the slapping noise now louder than your groans of pleasure.

Forever this goes on, rolling your hips, AJ shivering in orgasmic joy, squeaking, going half limp as you continue, dick rigid as stone. Your stamina lasts for a long time, heart beating, muscles slowly growing hotter and tiring. Instead of quit, you kiss and suck her neck, she hugs back weakly. You lay into her, gently, deeply, penis fully erect and nestled deep inside.

You stop, finally finished, but no climax. The tool in her vagina throbs softer, growing back down. You breathe deep and pull out, wincing at the sensation, it felt good to feel that wet motion. Applejack instantly touches your face and leans in for a kiss, but you deflect her to your cheek. She hugs you close, wrapping her strong, soft legs around one of yours. You rest on your side facing her, eyes buried in her blonde hair, and swallow at the lump in your throat. She orgasmed, several times. But would she ever be satisfied? You leave your eyes closed, breathing through your nose in her hair, swallowing sometimes at that lump. You can’t stop them, now. The images come back. Gore and dead eyes, asking why. No answer, except rote primal defense and weapon specifications. Caliber, length, weight, you can feel the wood in your grip, the sling smart and taught, everything maintained to perfection. Not a spec of dust, not a drop of excessive oil. Even the magazines and bullets had inspections.

“You know it doesn’t matter,” a woman’s voice said. You look up, from the carpet between your legs, you realize they’re the same stairs you defended. The crimson carpet didn’t hide the blood. Your white uniform sleeves are speckled with blood, not yours. You let the rifle rest on your leg after checking the safety on.

At last you look up and see her. In an decorated, long black gown is Princess Luna. You don’t answer, no energy. Barely enough energy to keep eye contact. She holds out her hand, an order or an offer, you’re not sure. You want to obey. You swallow at the denser lump and take it, finding her skin soft. You stand, looking to her, withdrawing your hand, inspecting for grime. “I’m sorry, princes,” you say wiping away dirt on your filthy pants.

“For what?” she asked, face stoic, but not dead, thank goodness not dead.

You swallow again, one of the few comfortable things, focussing on the discomfort of it. “Not cleaning my hands before touching you.”

She smirks. “A little dirt never killed anyone,” she said, turning towards the large door behind you. You face it as well, feeling as if you had just ran a marathon. “You’ve visited many, many times the past few years, yet you’ve always been looking down that hall, putting an end to so many lives. Your rifle’s jammed, the barrel has burned the wood stock, all sorts of awful things have come of it. You’ve tried so many tactics and strategies. Shoot, hide, don’t shoot, beg, interrogate. Never once have you thought of what was behind this door.”

“The grand hall. Where everyone was. Applejack, the princesses, the wedding and all those guests. I was protecting them.”

“Think. How else could a flying threat enter the grand hall, young one?” she asked, stepping in front of you, her height imposing.

You look down, wishing to break down and cry, to raise your weapon. You do nothing, as your arms are spent. “There’s, there’s big, stained glass windows. I remember from my tours on duty days.”

“They broke in without warning. I was doing my part elsewhere trying to evacuate the city. Was I successful?”

You recall the funeral service the following week. So many dead from attacks, and it was only one evening long. Most casualties were friends killing friends, doppelgangers taking advantage, deception. “Most of the upper city evacuated to the lower, but,”

“Over a thousand in a city of three hundred thousand died. Do you call all but one third of one percent successful?” she asked, her tone still cold and dead as those buried.

You look up, asked to judge a princess. “I, I don’t-”

“They were lovers. Husbands, Fathers, wives, daughters, brothers and sisters, business partners and best friends. All those lives, all three hundred thousand, surely more, resent our actions to not make that number to zero. Our, actions, lance corporal. Yours and mine. You’ve relived this memory so much, you’ve changed it, perverted it with the lense of self hatred and guilt. Recall Blue,” she commanded. From this angle, he cowered behind a pillar, resting his rifle against the corner he hid behind.

“Blue,” you softly say, tears coming to your eyes.

She held out her hand, and he shouted: “My fucking job, man! These, these things, they ain’t fucking people! They’re fucking aliens or something. They take over other people’s bodies! Fuck, how do I know it’s really you?”

“Oh, god, I killed him!” You clench your fist, and Luna’s hand touches your shoulder, like a mother to her toddler son.

“Watch.”

You shout out, clear as day from behind the pillar, “What’s Twilight’s waist size?” Then, he does something. He loses focus, seeming completely confused.

The man’s lips wordlessly say something, like he’s asking someone answers on a test. Luna lifted her reassuring hand once more, pausing the recreation. “He’s asking his fellow changelings for guidance. He wants you to lower your weapon, lead you to other survivors, end more lives. He’s asking plainly,” she said, snapping her fingers and rewinding things a second after you utter the challenge only he would know. “Comrades, what is that girl Twilight Sparkle’s waist size? He’s asking me to make sure it’s his pervert friend.”

“Then he shouts, trying to buy time, pretending to not understand.” And so he did. It was incredible.

“Then why didn’t he change?!” you shout, staring at his body. You and Luna watched unashamed at you inspect the body, vomit, and move on to the defensible position to rest. You watch Blue’s corpse, still breathing, but not much. It’s almost imperceptible. His chest is covered with a metal breastplate, his jaw is shattered. The living corpse is like a puddle in a sun scorched desert.

Luna takes a step to your side, you look back at yourself wiping your face, back to the door.

His body does indeed burst into green flame, obscured by the corner he was hiding behind. Blue Bull slowly morphs with his dying breath into a demon, a changeling. You look to Luna, feeling a foot taller.

“And those three others?” Like clockwork, they ran down the hall and were dropped by three aimed shots.

Luna remained silent. The officer changed after the general put him down. The privates, only one did. The other was a red-blooded Equestrian. “One. Not three. One man slain, the others were insects not fit for life on this planet. Those things are not living in the sense we think of. They are as alive as robots, unthinking drones to a master. They deserve to be destroyed. In that regard,” she said, turning to you, now of equal stature. “I thank you.”

You look at your hands, now clean, mostly. You swallow. “What was his name? I don’t recognize him.”

“Private Accord, from Fillydelphia. He left behind a grieving father, a mother, and two brothers. He’s the only one in the military. Thanks to those awful creatures, Fillydelphia lost a promising young singer.” Luna strolled to the body, mangled above the neck. “A gruesome death for a loving soul. Left behind a trail of broken hearts back in Fillydelphia, too. He is remembered well for his hair barely in regs and the way he could revive the old greats from radio ages past. A loss. But you, you are not to blame.”

You take a deep breath. “How? I pulled the trigger-”

“On a rapidly charging threat, when you knew there was a shapeshifting infestation! He was a fresh private, not five months out of infantryman school, followed by new pencil pushing lieutenants. Your aim was true on your enemies. No one could ever hold that against you. These bastards, are just that! Fatherless and motherless creatures of pure hate, out to only take. Take! To GIVE is human, do you NOT AGREE?!”

Luna took one breath, her intense face growing calmer, but no less serious. She swallowed and continued. “Aimless Accord has been and will be remembered. These awful things, they too, will be remembered, but not loved. Like a virus, we shall carry the memory, so that we may better compat and squash these bugs. I need you, Tristan, and I need you well. Tell this story, but tell it true. Bear children and pass on this story. You likely are not surprised to hear that these Changelings know my sister and I by name.”

She stepped forward, and the steps leading to the great hall melted from their lavender hue into violet, like the tapestries adorning the round room you find yourself standing in, Luna’s pale, slender arms draped across your shoulders, her eyes catching yours. “Luna,” you say softly, heart racing. “I can’t believe, all this time,”

“There were many others, and their suffering even greater. I can only bear my face so many times a night, Tristan. I would have come sooner.” Her face for the first time was something other than dead serious. A sorrow, a desire to do even better, though she did so much. At least it sounded like she worked herself to wits end. What else could anyone do but their best?

“I know you must hold a kernel of resentment for me. Why I couldn’t come sooner? Why did I let this happen in the first place? I’ll show you.” Luna, ever the dramatic, turned to the doors. She opened them without effort, as easy as pushing over a house of cards.

The giant castle doors flung wide open and off their hinges to fall into an abyss. Luna motions you to walk, and you do, to the edge. Beyond the plane is a mesmerizing sea of lunar color, stars dot a swirling sea of astral shapes, not unlike Luna’s illogical hair.

You look back, and she wears a soft smile. You look down and set your rifle on the ground. You think if you tried to pick it up, it’d weigh two hundred pounds. You put one foot out, as if you were ascending stairs in the dark, unsure if there was another step. The space is solid as stone. You rest your weight forward and walk on. Luna follows.

As you stroll forward, no goal in sight, a corridor of doors appears, each unique as a person or experience. One was a modern looking pneumatic contraption with a symbol on it. The next, pink and white. The next was a particularly dense looking stone door. “These doors lead to places, events in the minds in the sleeping people of Equestria. Most are abstract, odd, benign. Others, erotic. Dangerous. Traumatic. More and more, thankfully, are wholesome and hopeful. This is your soon-to-be fiance’s door.”

How did she…? Stupid princesses and their stupid dream magic. She stopped at a green one, three apples painted upon the top half, bold. She opened without looking inside, pushing the door in for you.

You step to the doorway and push the doorway open all the way, the painted wood was solid and firm. In her dream, she was riding a bull with features disturbingly similar to your own, wearing tight, sturdy jeans and leather chaps, her finest rodeo shirt and bolo tie, and of course, one hand on her had, of which she had dozens.

The bull wasn’t bucking, no matter how she kicked and gidded. “Come on, damn nag. Buck! Do somethin’!”

You turn away, blushing and cringing. “Holy shit, she really is upset about it, huh?”

“It wouldn’t take a psychologist or animal husbandry expert to figure that out,” Luna said flatly. “Would you like to buck her around for eight seconds? Literally, and somehow metaphorically, I suppose.”

You grin up to Luna. “Princess, do you mean, um,”

“Just walk through the door and rock her, cowboy.” Luna grins and giggles, much more girlishly than expected. She leans in and gives you a wet kiss, sighing ever so softly. Her soft lips are chilled, her blue lipstick beckons you to lean in. As she pulls away, you fall forward some.

“Gotcha,” she laughs and pats your ass. “Go, walk on through to the other side.”

You swallow, placing your clean hands on her hips, desireable, nice and curvy, much like AJ’s. “Princess,” you breathe, finally smiling yourself. She does, too, those pouty lips look beyond kissable, just like… “Will I be able to, you know. Finish?”

She smiled a little more warmly, such a sight. “Yes, and I advise you have a plan for your discharge. Two years is one hell of a time to blueball a man.” She winked and kisses your cheek, those words somehow not souring your opinion of the graceful woman. She owns a certain look in her eyes. You try to read it. That woman was a mystery in an enigma.

Luna leans in to kiss your lips again, eyes closing. You follow suit, finding your uniform so tight around the crotch. Her smell is addicting. You inhale deep and lean in, placing your lips against hers, so soft.

She throws you now into the doorway as your lips press together firmly. You stumble through, your hooves struggling to find purchase in the mud. You look up, seeing a gate locked in front of you. You feel energized, like you’ve been caffeinated and riled up. You kick, sending dirt flying. There’s something on your back, but when you bend down to buck, your horns scrape against metal, and when you lean back, your flanks hit more metal. You snort, furious.

There’s a laugh and a beep, you recognize AJ is on top. You smile, reel up, and jump forward the instant the gate is launched open. Her legs tighten up on your sides, bootheels digging in as she pulls the rope on your back tight. You buck, hard, and again, harder. Spin, kick, jump, buck, ‘til she’s flying in the air. You run and jump, heart racing, and kick the wall as hard as you can. Dirt flies from under your hooves as you trot on over, tail whipping like your head.

She reels back, scrambling in the mud, beaming wide. You stomp, over and over, just you and her. She stands and eases her hands forward, stepping closer. You want to run into her, but she makes you smile. God, her pretty green eyes were so… pretty. She makes it to you, shushing and placing a gloved hand on your head. She takes it off and touches you with her bare palm to your nose. “Easy, big guy,” she says, coming in and standing a little taller, white and green cowgirl shirt stained with dirt and muck. She kisses you muzzle, and you close your eyes.

You open them and find darkness,your hand not feeling, as if chopped clean off. You blink, not seeing a thing, only blackness. A spiderweb tangles across your face, a hot, hard stone weighs your body down. You take a deep breath and push with your good arm, making some creature growl angrily. You stop, blinking more and more. You swallow as the creature shifts, a soft, slightly damp mound of flesh presses into your pushing hand.

“Mmmng- strolmmmmff…” a woman grumbles incoherently. You curl your freed arm and pull her in. Luna? Why were you thinking of Luna? You swallow, feeling the need to pee, your rod stiff and a little sore. Celestia was it hard. So fucking hard, and aching. Throbbing. You reach down and pull it free, untrapping it from someplace hot. “Tris….” she says. So familiar.

You swallow and sit up, instantly bombarded by cold, the little fleshy creature holding your body hostage curls instinctively, her bottom pushing into your lap. You grit your teeth, warm skin slipping over the underside of your hardness.

The moonlight trickling in through the heavy curtains illuminates only the barest of lines. Squirming in front of you is a balled up hourglass, groaning. “Tristan,” she grumbles, rolling over to face you. “I’m freezing, lay back down,” Applejack whispers, reaching out blindly and finding your thigh. She hugs her body towards yours, meeting your stiff cock with her cheek.

“Hey!” she squeaks, pressing her lips to your hips, where your short hairs grow. She groans, then lets out a little giggle, yanking the covers over her head. You close your eyes and relax, smiling as her hot breath flows over your erect head. She wraps the meat pole in her soft, wet lips, moaning, vibrating everything. You touch her head under the thick blankets and sigh out, smiling, relaxing. She’s so wonderful.

“AJ,” you moan out, sighing, her muffled moans giving the best vibrating sensations. Both hands fall upon the blankets conforming to the shape of her head, begging her for more. She swallows and gags softly, taking more, the tightness on your head such a wonderful feeling. Her throat muscles are at an awful angle, but she still presses on, begging for more. She is so perfect, so wonderfully perfect. A loyal little girl, eager to make her favorite person happy. You pant out, throbbing so hard as she pulls back to cough and gag. It’s not a filthy sound or feeling, but one of endearment. She’s doing this out of pure love. Not of the act, or even the organ, but of you. Or that’s what you tell your murky early morning mind.

There it is. That familiar feeling, of pressure welled up, on the precipice of erupting. You’ve felt it so much, it nearly brings dread. Somehow, though, this feels different. “AJ,” you groan down, lifting the blankets to see the pale shapes and shadows of her face, lips wrapped around your member and bobbing quickly. She’s trying her best to suck away, even though dozens of attempts have failed in the past.

Before you can even utter a word, the sight of her face working away at your member brings about the expulsion. Everything tightens up, and your legs pull your pulsing cock back, the head pushing against her cheek. A flex, one unimportant little bodily reaction, that’s all it takes.

“GAH!” you both shout, cream firing forth and slathering her pretty cheek in steamy hot seed. The next round is far more forceful, and you manage to lean your hips back for it, giving AJ a chance. You don’t want to take her head off, but it’s too late, and pulling back further would mess up her sheets. You see the white cream fire into her open mouth, long, forceful rope after rope, three, four. She giggles out a little shout, holding your hips in one hand and taking your cock in her other. She wraps those lips around the tip and moans, taking every hard, forceful shot. Her moan vibrates your cockhead, coaxing out another six volleys or so. You lose count. The pleasure is insurmountable, each launch lasting a second or more, making your spine tingle and body spasm, the last thing you can control is your hips, and you thrust with those. In your vision is only white, growing in from the edges. You continue to ejaculate for eternity, ropes numbering someplace like twenty? That couldn’t possibly be right. It lasts for so, so long, feeling so, so good.

You fall to your back, sweating, spent wholly, breathing after the marathon orgasm you just loosed into Applejack’s mouth.

The bedside lamp suddenly turns on, stabbing your eyes. You groan as Applejack rolls over on top of you, mouth full. She strokes your chest, breathing hard through her nose. You peek up, the dim yellow bouncing off the walls like staring into the sun. “I came,” you mumble, smiling up at her.

Applejack giggles again, mouth full. “Shouh I shwawow?” she asks, smiling, swishing her tongue around. Naturally, you nod, watching closely. Applejack laughs more and sits up, her wet little lips on your rod, which is half hard, and so damn sore. In a little sloppy flourish, she takes both hands back and pulls her hair behind her head, her frizzy, messy bedhead belonged in the before shot of a shampoo commercial. You stroke her hips and watch.

AJ looks directly into your eyes, smiling, some white cream dripping down her cheek. With a hard grimace, she gulps once, twice, then opens her eyes and mouth, beaming, her warm little mouth clear. She giggles and strokes your bare chest. “All gone. How did it feel, baby?” she asks gently.

You smile up at her, feeling like an elephant decided to climb off your shoulders. “Amazing,” is all you can say, but it is completely accurate.

AJ giggles and leans back, lifting her breasts once before she grabs your ankles, her feminine lips smushed into your spent organ. “What made ya cum?” she asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but there’s no clear answer. “You. I don’t know. Sexy dream, maybe. I think letting out my, um, problems… helped.”

In a second, AJ is laying across you, breasts pressing into your chest as she kisses your neck. “I love you,” she whispers.

“Love you, too,” you breathe, smiling, closing your eyes and hugging the most beautiful girl in the world.

She squirms in your embrace, slipping her thigh along yours, knee at your side. You reach over her shoulder and feel her middle back, her long hair tangled in your fingers. You take a sniff of that messy blonde hair, she’s addicting. You feel a soreness in your groin not felt for a long time, but your member is still semi hard, pulsing lazily against Applejack’s flat, hard stomach.

She holds it, tenderly, a lovestruck girl holding your cock as casually as your hand. With such gentleness she squeezes and pulls on the sticky skin, the hard callouses on the insides of her knuckles kept away as the pads of her tips press into your hot skin. She stirs, snuggling her nose into your collar, breathing sweating with you. “AJ…” you groan into her mane, feeling drained, yet energized. You just want to roll over and pin her, give her another dose of cock. But the mere thought is draining.

She sighs and presses her chest into you. “Love ya,” she sighs, wiping her chin. “God, you came so much,” she whispers, giggling. “What got ya to finish, baby?”

You see that her cheeks and nose and chin are smeared with a messiness, her lips relatively clean. “So?” she asked, stroking your stiffening member.

As AJ looks up, you search your brain. “I, god, I’m bad at remembering dreams…” You swallow and think, touching her hair as Applejack strokes on your half flaccid penis. With great effort, you recall the begining details. Things grow clearer and clearer, and she adopts and understanding, serious face once you mention the princess.

“Did she blow you?” she asked bluntly. “Damn princess is a nympho if I ever knew one. Don’t go tellin no one, but she has a thing for my brother. I swear, I hear him moaning out her name through the damn walls once a week.”

“Um, no,” you say, a bit stunned.

She shrugs. “Wouldn’ta held it against you. She’s got that moxy tall girls get. Glad you stayed faithful to yours truly, though, big guy.” Applejack laid a little wet kiss on your cheek, then moved on down, kissing her way across your chest to your abs, then the short hairs, then, your sore dick. Suddenly, you remember and also don’t feel so guilty about the kisses. You groan softly as she takes the whole softish thing into her mouth, moaning, vibrating it fantastically. The soreness fades fast, as does the softness.

It takes no time before Applejack is riding again, sighing as she’s filled with hard cock. Her strong, tired legs bounce her sexy body up and down, stroking you, milking the veiny length. She’s none too shy about the noise level, either, moaning out, squeaking the bed like a bad set of shocks on a bumpy road. She leaned back, using her amazing ass to lift her wide hips up and down, stroking the length, giving you a sight to remember: her puffy lips spread wide, wrapped tight around your rock hard cock.

“Gimme another load, baby,” she squeaks, her little voice far from her normal deep alto. You grip her hips and obey by taking charge. Since she wants it so bad, you drive your hips up into the girl, pushing your stiff pole deep inside, getting all seven inches soaking wet deep inside her hot pussy. She squirms, throwing her head back as you rapidly pump your hips deep, stroking every bit. In just three short, hard, sweaty minutes, you find yourself at the point of no return. Your numbish dick is just throbbing.

Suddenly, you pull out, letting the pulsing organ breathe. AJ marvels at it, frowning, pouting. “Come on, inside me, sugarcube! Don’t make another mess.” She sighed as she stood tall on her knees and sank on the rocket she aimed at her pussy. Applejack leaned forward, pressing her tits to your chest as you take her hips and thrust again hard enough to lift her up. She braces on the headboard as it bangs into the wall. You bite her neck and grunt, hard, sucking air as your long cock flexes. The head swells as it erupts once more, your sore balls supplying another dozen salvos deep, deep inside, filling her up. You clench your eyes and curse her, yourself, now there was a damn risk. Oh well, something morning Tristan had to worry about.

You calm down, sucking air, sweating bullets just like AJ. She stands on her knees, looking down her sweaty, sexy body. “Take that, princess of adultery. My man is my own!” She panted out, leaning back again. “Mmmmmm, wouldya look at that?” she asked, rubbing her red little lips. “You’re fillin me up right, big guy. I love you so much.”

You stroke her hard thighs and swallow, suddenly dehydrated. “I love you too, baby girl.” She smiles as your eyes meet, her little pupils constricted by lamplight, showing off her bright green eyes. They were beautiful, but beautiful wasn’t good enough. You swallow, your parched throat scratchy. Finding better words would be morning Tristan’s problem, too.

Applejack takes your hand and pushes it into her breast, breathing hard, her heart fluttering as you can feel. “I wanna fuck you forever,” she sighed, “but I’m just so beat. I don’t wanna leave this room for a week.”

You smile and pump your hips teasingly, drawing a little satisfied giggle. “Glad you like it half as much as I do,” you say, reaching up with both hands to juggle her sweaty breasts.

The girl fell back onto the foot of her bed, back arched. She lifted herself back up, face in a state of pure bliss. You longed for a camera. She pulled herself up and off, moaning as your half flaccid cock flopped out, along with a trail of white cream. She let it ooze as it may as she sat her round ass in your lap. You grab her little waist and pull her close, rolling onto your side. “You need to give me a minute, girl,” you growl in her ear.

After a little giggling and groping and kissing, her round butt is slapping yours as she rides again, facing away. Next, she stands at the side of the bed as you take her from behind, finishing on her face after much begging from her. AJ mops up every drop and savors it before swallowing. Next is just missionary, but her legs wrap around your ass and pull you in, her tongue filling your mouth. Then a little spooning, followed by sex in the same position. A quick bathroom break, then doggy, and she makes you pull her hair and spank her amazingly hard ass. Then she insists on sucking it, then missionary with you standing at the bedside.

At last, you collapse, in so much sore pain you can’t even get it hard enough to fuck proper, you dry hump her anyway, pushing rope. She’s panting out, drenched and sticky, just as you are. You suck on her neck, the other side, so many marks. Her big, round tits are groped, soaked in sweat. “I love you,” you croak, drained.

AJ mumbles the same in your ear, her body coated in sweet sweat, her chest rising and falling slowly and regularly. You shift a touch and find her chest to be an amazing pillow.

Rarity

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You fix your collar after giving it a few tugs, trying to vent your shirt some. The heat outside was oppressive this summer. Humidity unprecedented seemed an insult from the Ponyville weather team. You give the air rising from your high thread count button down a sniff, and it passes. Yet the temptation to sneak off and reapply deodorant is there. You check your expensive wristwatch and decide against it.

The doors to the mayor’s waiting room are simple, just like the rest of the rustic villa. You enter, finding a landmine, no, more of a tigress laying in wait, whether she knew it or not.

Rarity’s long hair is perfectly styled, as usual, and her sport coat and long skirt easily put your tailored, pricey blazer to shame. You doff the blue thing, standing in just vest and tie, both matching your dark shoes and hair.

The world’s most perfect woman doesn’t look up from her light reading, a novel by the looks. You sit opposite and rest your foot on your knee casually, heart beating a million times a minute, your balls clenched tight, your bladder feeling ready to drain, your skin hot.

You check your watch again and swallow, trying not to sweat. You could leave. It wasn’t life or death, not like-

You sniff, clenching your knee with your hand as hard as you can. You look up to her, and relax. She’s just another person, you tell yourself. She’s got business here, just let her do her thing.

Far easier said than done. A minute drips by. Another. You stare at your knuckles and count the wrinkles, anything to not think about or look at her. She’s… she looks well. Her hourglass is curvy as ever. Her hair seems long, longer than you’ve ever seen. Her neck looks healthy, the scar was barely visible. You almost had to know it was there to see it. Was it makeup, or was it healing?

You pull out your pocket notebook, heart fluttering a moment.

The notes are just as they were last night when you wrote them, big points to discuss with the mayor. First, the town was growing fast, and needed a strong cultural identity. Second, with recent influx of people was tax money, and that meant reason to spend for those people. Third, and last, was the lack of any sort of theater in Ponyville. A tiny duo of studios couldn’t hold big bands or theatrical events. Ponyville needed a venue bigger than Sugarcube damn Corner.Stages could be made in the town square, and that was quite useful for impromptu performances, case in point Cheese Sandwich. Everyone in town showed up to that Birthaversary. Still, what if a band or something was touring towards Canterlot? The village at the foot of the mountain was prime small town stop material, a place for performers to put on a smaller show to recharge before a real crowd pleaser in the polis of the land. An amphitheater would be perfect, and the hill just west of city limits was a fine excuse to absorb more land, too.

“Beau,” Rarity said nonchalantly, suddenly breaking your train of thought, perhaps deliberately triggering the flight or fight response in you.

“Rarity,” you mutter just as toxic as she did.

You take a second to look up from the short list in your pocket notebook to look at her body a little closer. Her tits, oh fucking god, those amazing mounds of flesh looked amazing as ever. A line of cleavage, not particularly long, drove your panicking primal brain to growl with hunger. You silently swallow down the urge to move closer to her and press a little charisma.

The awkward tension was growing more and more taut by the second. “Doing well?” she asked, not looking up from her reading, “The Eye of the Needle”, the art a literal needle with a little symbol in the eye, of course. Seemed fit for a fucking seamstress.

You unclench your jaw and think saner thoughts. Rarity was a beautiful woman, compassionate, generous, nice, and of course gorgeous. She.... She was fucking perfect. Why the hell did she need force small talk? An uncomfortable silence would be much more palatable than small talk born of a C-section.

“Enough,” you murmur. “Yourself?”

She licks her finger, nails painted vivid, flawless blue, and flips the page. “I’ve got two new stores, one in Canterlot and another in Manehatten,” she recites without looking up. Do her cheeks look just a little red?

“Miss Rarity?” You look up to see a secretary, her pretty long brown hair just a little frizzed, probably from the oppressive humidity and bureaucratic stress.

The woman of international interest stood, smiling gently, slipping her book into her purse and disappeared behind the doors. You love to see her go, but are addicted to watching her leave. You shift a stiffness in your slim dress pants into your waistband and grip the edge of the bench in the small, vacant waiting room. What wouldn’t you give to feel her again, to smell her, taste her most sensitive flesh, to feed her your shaft while she… oh, fuck, this was an unhelpful train of thought. You stand and walk in small circles, hoping to recirculate some blood. Anything to help your situation out.

You head to the bathroom to relieve yourself, choosing to use a stall so you can bend over some to actually make the shot. The urinal would need some distance, and that just wouldn’t do.

The brown wooden wall you lean a hand against shows the building’s age while your other pushes your pulsing shaft down as you relax. “Fuck, Rarity,” you breathe, wishing she was here, and wishing she were in outer space, all at the same time. The scar was almost invisible. You would have never noticed it on her neck, had you not inflicted it so long ago. Was it really two years?

You open your eyes, not realizing you had even shut them. Luckily muscle memory had aimed your stream, and nothing missed. The pressure was relieved some, and you find your stiffness fading just a little. You whip the long tool and wick the last drop into the bowl. You flush and tuck the length back into your waistband, wash and zip up, then head back out to wait.

There’s nothing to do but read or reflect, so you distract yourself with an adventure novel. A lengthy son of a bitch, it’s been a challenge to get this far in the series. You find yourself thankfully sucked into the world, and a chapter whizzes by before Rarity struts out again, looking ever so resting-bitch-faced. God, how it shined with streaks of hot cum-

“Strings? Mister Strings?” the petite secretary asks to you. You look up from the hips swaying towards you to the woman with the clipboard. Why was everything this hard?

You close your book on the bookmark with a thump and tuck it into your briefcase. You stand, trying to ignore Rarity, but she stops, looking past you, your shoulders aligned. “I haven’t forgotten,” she whispers angrily.

“I think you never will.”

“The hill, where we had our first picnic. Saturday, hour after sunset. You’ll have one minute to talk.”

“Don’t wait for me.”

“Your erection is showing.”

You look down first for a split second, she steps away. It wasn’t, or, was it? Well, you couldn’t tell unless you looked at it, right? Rarity’s heels click on the stairs going down as your wingtips clack on the stone floor.

“Evening,” she says. “I’m Amber Quill, the mayor’s new secretary.”

“Beau,” you offer your hand, she takes it. You give her a gentle but sure shake. If she were a little older, you might have gone for the cheesy kiss on her hand, but there was a time and place for that. “Great to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she says, her eyes dipping for just a sec. “Um, Rarity was totally right by the way. I mean,” she said, her eyes falling like your chest. “I don’t really mind, but, you can totally see it.”

“Fuck me,” you sigh, pulling your pants up a little to try and fix it.

“Is that an order?” Amber giggled a little.”Don’t worry, you’ll be sitting. Keep in mind it’s five o’clock, and you’re the last meeting today on a Friday, so as you can imagine, the mayor is looking forward to some time off. Don’t attack with harsh questions, and don’t demand anything not fixable by taxpayers. If you think your questions would fall into that territory, we can reschedule for next week, or you can write in a formal request or complaint. Either way, she’ll get it Monday morning. Do you have anything before I bring you in?” she asked, cocking a hip and flicking her pen around in her fingers.

You pull out your little pocket book and smile and wink at her. “Yes, what perfume are you wearing?”

The meeting with the menopausal woman was rushed and much less earth-shattering than you had envisioned. The lady elect was quite down to earth, a professional, but a human at the limit of her mental patience nonetheless. She had agreed to every supposed change, all but the budget. The amphitheater was already proposed to be renovated and expanded into what seemed almost an arena. Ponyville was the definition of a sprawl, the town hall was the tallest building at six stories smack in the center of the village, but the town’s geographical size was several miles across and growing. With all that sales tax money, a new bigger venue would be a no brainer.

So said Rarity, less than an hour prior. When asked for details, the mayor declined. You gave her one last press, bringing up all the charisma you could, but there was no fuel to stoke the flames of. She was spent.

You departed, getting the college-aged secretary’s number, just in case. She was lacking above the waist, but definitely not below. The drive home is a silent one, your thoughts are a roaring sea, and anything on the radio wouldn’t be heard over it.

God, she looked so good. So fucking good. She must be making time for the gym, or something. Maybe she was just so active. Maybe it was magic. Either way, your erection was not calming down for now. You let it throb down a pant leg, it was a little more comfortable that way. Saturday, tomorrow night, what to do? What to say? What to wear, bring, sing? What time was sundown, this time of year? Another question bubbles to the surface as you auto drive home that quiets the others for a moment: why?

Then, a shotgunblast of others. Why now? Why you? Had she healed mentally? Did she want, unlikely as it may be, more? Was she- “Fuck,” you say, pounding the ceiling. You loosen your silk tie a little and roll down the window. You open the console and grab the cigarette pack, still in its cellophane condom. You just hold it, the three-year broken habit so close, one you stamped just a year after leaving Rarity, a testament to strength of will.

“She wouldn’t like the smell.” You sigh and slap the glove box closed. A mentally silent minute passes as you pull up into the double car garage, your motorcycle polished and begging. You head inside anyway, the sun was still high in the sky.

A strong gin and tonic sits in your hand, just starting to sweat as you kick off your shoes and head downstairs, but not to read in the den or watch awful television. You open the secret door, it was invisible to the untrained eye, and head into the room that hasn’t seen so much use this year. One kinky girl from out of town, she was mentally insane, but had zero gag reflex. She wasn’t into the chains and such. You touch a hair-thin scar on your cranium and drink a gulp down. “Fuck.”

It was here. You could smell the leather and pussy now. Maybe some stuff could use a little scrub. She had begged for it. “Come on!” was the trigger for more. “Come on!” she said it five times in a row, even when her voice shrank from lack of breath. Then, a minute passed, her hair and tits bouncing from the hard thrusts. She had grown to love anal. Her eyes blasted open, her beautifully painted lips mouthed “woah”, the soft stop, her eyes flickered, you stopped and gave her throat a little stronger squeeze, just for a second. She whimpered, breathless. Her chest exploded as she tried to suck in a breath, but her windpipe was shut. You didn’t know. Neither did she.

That was the worst interview by the paramedics and police ever, and it was in your lazy sunday bathrobe. Rarity wore the good one. She still had that plush, lovely thing, the fucking cunt.

The ice cubes clink as you sit on the springy, firm mattress, freshly flipped, the sheets cleaned last month when they were used. Bloodstains, just a few flecks near the head, look god awful. You need new ones, you decide.

You need to fill this whole fucking basement with cement and bury it all. You drink the little bit of water from the melted ice and slam your glass on the table nearby, and fall to the floor to lean against the wall. Your clothes feel like ten layers of wool, your arms and legs are lead. You bring your knees up and rest your heavy elbows on them, dipping your head like a homeless man might. The intubator wasn’t enough. They had to find the collapsed part, cut a damn hole below, go in that way, and fix her while she was out. Almost fifteen minutes. She could have been a fucking vegetable.

You fall to the floor, eyes shut, staring that wound down like the barrel of a loaded weapon. It was an accident. You had held her neck dozens of times, she loved it. Rarity, she took your hand at a party and made you rest your thumb on the gentle, tender flesh, in front of everyone.

“You ASKED FOR IT!” You hear yourself cry, fists balled, you punch the carpeted floor, all the better to silence cries of pain or bliss. Your nostrils are making an awful noise as you breathe. You sit up and clear your nose into your handkerchief, then drop it. “Rarity,” you moan, eyes and cheeks and fingers hot in the cold basement air. You inspect your knuckles. The skin’s broken on all four, but it’s just a bad scrape.

“It’s been years,” you gag. “She’s moved on, or at least well enough. She’s more successful than ever, just like me. Just like me. She… she wants me.”

You pant out and pull yourself up. You pull out the scrap of paper with Amber’s name on it. “I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do,” you say, breathing more and more steadily by the minute.

“But, I can figure it out.”

You grab your glass, kill the lights and lock the hidden door behind you. You rinse off your knuckles in the bathroom, cursing yourself. Amber’s number is added to the book in your nightstand, but it’s not her’s you dial.

It rings four times, then a girl answers the phone. There’s bumping music in the background, modern house by the sound. “Ello?” she shouts.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“From the new year’s party?”

“Yeah, yeah I need you.”

“Ooooh, need a threepeat?” she laughed.

You smile. She had the hugest tits, total cumslut. “Not like that. I need advice. On Rarity.”

A record actually scratched, and the music stopped. “Shit! Put it back on! I don’t care!” she said in a hushed shout. The music resumed on another song, just a planned bass drop, people. There was a decrescendo as she probably fled. Everything grew incredibly quiet on her end. You turned up the volume, trying to hear what was going on, almost injecting the receiver end of your phone into your ear. “WHAT?!” she shouts, making your ear ring.

You switch sides, working your jaw, trying to pop your ear like you just got off a plane. “You heard me. We crossed paths, and she wants to talk.”

“W-well, wait, o-” a short pause. “Ooooooh. Sorry, I’m sorta buzzed! Yeah, no, she’s like, my best friend. You’re not getting anything from me, sorry.”

“Wait!” you shout, searching for things to say. She was a sex fiend, offering her pleasure might be like offering a billionaire money: she’d either be greedy and feed her addiction, or treat it like a drop in the bucket. You decide to avoid that tactic. “She’s your friend, right? So you heard the whole story, from her end.”

“Aaaand what makes you think I’m not satisfied that she’s telling the whole truth?”

“Because, Pinkie. You just said that. There’s two sides to the story, any story.” You pause, letting her reply, but she remains silent. “Look, you probably don’t care about every detail, but some of the grim things are important in this case.

“She asked for it, and I’m not just saying that. Rarity begged me to hold her neck like that. I, I was giving her what she demanded, like she had before. She loved it, until she felt short of breath. I, I gave her a little, no, I let her have one last squeeze, then let go. Her, oh my god her eyes, she… I called 911 and sped to the hospital. You and Twilight met her there.

“We talked only once, and all I got to say was I’m sorry. We saw each other out running errands, she said she would talk to me. I have one minute, sixty seconds to talk. Pinkie, I need your help. You know her, you know people. What they like, what they think, especially you six, you know?”

A pregnant pause with four trimesters lingered. You think you hear breathing. Maybe she had just ran up stairs. She smacked her lips and made a short noise, like she was going to say something, but stopped again. “I, Rarity… Beau, Rarity told me she liked this BDSM kinky stuff, but I never thought she asked for the choking that much. Did she really try to get you to stop?”

“Yeah,” you say. “And I did, as soon as she did, but Pinkie, please, don’t think I want to tell you all this. I was fucking her. She was on her back, and I was on top of her, and she, she was making all sorts of faces, and when, she couldn’t speak. She made the shape with her lips of the stop word, but, I, I was already thrusting, and-”

“Holy fuck, you’re right, you don’t need all that detail,” she blurted.

You swallow some melted ice. “Well, that’s what happened. Don’t, please, please, please, don’t let anyone else know what happened. I’m so fucking ashamed and disappointed in myself. I, I’ve never felt worse than that day. I just want Rarity to know I’ve been ready to take her back, or have me back. I’ve grown and changed. She would never have to worry, she would always be safe, and she would always have my love.”

“That’s a lot to say in a minute without sounding like an eighth grader going through his first breakup, Beau,” she said. “But what I would do…”

You write everything down, every word, minus a few extra “really”’s and the like.

* * *

The stars are absolutely brilliant, steady in their imperceptibly slow march across the sky. You gaze past their infinite distance and swallow, your chest and arms sore after one of the hardest workouts you’ve had. Vanity was one hell of a motivator. You flex, admiring the pump you’ve given yourself in your taught, silky button down shirt, the cuffs rolled just a few times to show off the forearms. Your long pants don’t fit into the midsummer night’s heat, but only yacht owners, professional athletes, and potheads could pull off shorts after dark, same goes for boots or sneakers, hence the wing tips, freshly polished.

The time is near, it was fifty minutes past, exactly the same location on the hill where you had that fateful date. You lean back in the lush, soft grass and rest your head on your upturned hands and try to relax. Tall order. Your heart was thundering, and you pray your freshly applied deodorant would hold, and not overpower the best cologne you had, Rarity’s favorite. She’d notice, hopefully. There was only so much you could do to stack the deck.

“Beau,” a sweet, flat, contentious voice said, nearly in a whisper, yet near. You pry your eyes open, hoping you pulled off the aloof look well. Appearing like a bum wouldn’t do any good. How could you look homeless, your hair was done perfectly.

And if your outfit was well done, hers was a modern masterpiece. A short, quite short summer dress matched her demeanor perfectly. White with thin stripes, barely visible in the late twilight, slimmed her already lithe figure, and the hem was simple and elegant. She was born to design and make, that was without doubt.

You sit up slightly, looking up to her openly. “Beautiful as ever,” you say.

She cocked a hip and stared down, her handbag resting in the crook of her opposite elbow. “One minute,” she said, speaking towards her pocket watch.

Without delay, your routine starts off. You smoothly roll onto your feet and stand in front of her. “Rarity, two years is eternity without you. I used to love to hurt you, but that was an immature, fetishistic, fanatical fantasy, born of an awful desire to hurt and maim beautiful women. Since I met you, I knew deep down I’d love nothing more than to make you smile, make your heart soar like you made mine every time our eyes meet.”

You drop to your knee and take her surprised hand, her face a little red from the sudden attention and implicit gesture. “So, since you know how sorry I was, I won’t waste time. I want you back, and I’ll do anything to have you. I’ll be a scapegoat if that’s what it takes, I’ll be a bull who takes what he wants, I’ll be a conniving con artist if I need to trick you, I’ll be a guardian, a knight, I’ll be a puddle of muck if that’s what you want. Because I need you. We were something disgustingly wonderful. I’m ready to be just… wonderful. I’ve grown. Let me show you.”

You take one last deep breath, looking into her eyes. “Or was that ‘one minute’ a ‘seven minutes in heaven’ type of minute?” Before you finish, she brings her bag around and slaps your face, harder than you might have expected.

Before you can sit up and recover, her hands are on your cheeks pulling you up. “Beau Strings!” she screeches into your face, furious, eyes burning like her cheeks. God, they looked cute. Sorta like when she had a glass or two too many. It went well with her glossy lipstick, the light layer she had on.

You stand with her, looking down into her vivid blue eyes. She’s blushing, but her smile betrays her pouty demeanor. You touch her sides, and she doesn’t shy away. “Do you suppose it’s been long enough?” she asked, touching the scar on her neck.

It’s hard not to lean in and kiss her, equally to not shove her away and walk off. You look into her eyes and think of that question. She understood, you know now just as two years ago. But was there any real chance?

The answer was always no unless you asked, right?

“Yeah, it’s been long enough, I think. I love you,” you whisper.

Rarity’s smile softens, her laugh lines deepen as her eyes grow watery. “I had this whole spiel planned… I just want you to, to… Beau!” She squeaks and leans up to kiss you, her arms flying over your shoulders, her right heel kicking up high. Her breath is sweet, just like her lip gloss. You hold her tight, pressing your chest to hers, those perky C cups squishing nicely.

After a long ten seconds, she pushes away to suck in a deep breath. She moves her lips to say something, but subsides. She pounces again, throwing her weight. There was serious work to be done with burying hatchets, but now was the time to indulge, to enjoy pleasure. You lean back and lie down in a half-coordinated fall. She lays on you, moaning as she sucks your lips ands kisses and kisses and kisses away. There’s so much skin and cotton to touch, so many curves to feel, so much breath to feel and smell and so much hair to enjoy. Her body is fit as ever, her flesh perfect. You relax with her, but she’s too much.

You roll on top of the girl and give her everything you need to give. Your hand on her shoulder, the other under her perfect back, you hold her tight and groan with her, finding her tongue in your mouth. She spreads her legs and you find your hardness pressing into the soft folds of her dress, high between her thighs.

The lady in her pushes off, breathing hard. “Beau!” You kiss her neck as she sucks in deep breaths. “Ah! You’re too much!” She giggled and stroked your head, pulling you up by your hair. “Calm down, lover boy, we’ve got all night.”

“Is this happening?” you ask, trying not to breathe too hard as you stand on your arms. “I don’t just want to fuck, Rarity. I need you back, for good.”

“Then is sex not what would convince me?”

What? “What? What kind of question is that-”

“No angle,” she said, “Beau. You and I both know we loved it, sex, I mean. Would you not like to do it again?”

“But, I…” Girls used sex to find love, guys used love to find sex, that’s how it was, right? Well, Rarity was worth loving, way back when.

The answer is always no unless you ask.

You look into her eyes and smile. “My place?” you ask.

She smiles, giggling shortly. “Mm, no, I think I’d like to have you in my bed, tonight.” She winks and sits up, kissing you softly, before scooting out from under you. You just sit back and watch, smiling, as she dusts herself off and sets her dress right. “Oh, you animal, I’ve got grass stains on my bum. Oh well, it should come out. Beau,” she says, letting the fabric out of her pulling hand, the image of the curve of her ass still hot in your mind. “This is about more than fucking, you realize, right?” she says, a little more seriously, cocking her hip and looking down at you.

“Of course.” You stand up and fix your pants, not hiding the bulge aimed down your leg. Rarity doesn’t look down, but that’s okay. “I wouldn’t want it to be, Rarity. You have the most beautiful personality, and your voice is phenomenal, too.”

“Beau,” she says, grinning deeply, clasping her hands in front of her, her beautiful blue eyes staring into yours. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“If I didn’t, why would I say that?”

“To revengefuck me, maybe,” she said flatly, that cute smile growing vindictive.

You look into the sky and feel uneasy. What was there to say to that?! It would be kinky, but… “I mean, it would be kind of hot, but, I’m not looking for revenge, and definitely not by fucking you. I wouldn’t feel right, doing something I loved so much to someone I hold so dear with any intent other than intimacy.”

That made her giggle, but not with amusement, apparently the opposite. She pulled herself close. “Sorry, that was rather blunt, wasn’t it?” she said, hugging your arm. “Come on, let’s go be awkward in my bed.”

She drove. You find the conversation a little rough to start, but things grew more honest and open by the moment. You find her hand in your lap, and she pulls yours into hers. You slide her skirt back, discussing what the mayor was wearing, something you hardly noticed. Amber had your eye, but you withhold that nugget as you feel the pinkie of your left hand touch her panties. There’s lace, that’s about all you can figure with touch alone, besides heat. She’s biting her lip as you grip her pale, soft, strong thigh hard, the skin milky smooth as ever.

“Shh, we’re here,” she said, pulling onto the side street. Her store and home was quaint as ever. You climb out and glance at your watch, nearly ten on a Thursday, smack in the middle of June. You follow the smiling girl inside, leaving behind your jacket and other things.

Once inside, she pauses in the kitchen. “Care for a drink?” she asks, and you can’t decide. “We’ll need some of this,” she sighs, pulling out a bottle of water, chilled to perfection, surely room temperature by the time you’ll think to drink.

Everything she does is tinted from both the promise of sex and the sour air of history. You struggle to see through to the woman carrying herself so gracefully.

At last, even though you’ve been inside for less than a minute, you are taken by the hand up the stairs. She takes her time, but you don’t mind with the view she offers, hiking up her dress just a bit. The bottom curve of her ass looks well earned, starkly defined, she probably squats double her weight.

The instant she’s inside, you close the door and take her from behind, pressing your waist into that sculpted ass. She sighs and looks up over her shoulder. You meet her face with your lips and she instantly kisses back, pressing her hips towards yours. You moan softly into her mouth as your hands grab her wrists, which she pulls away once you’ve taken hold, pushing her into you even harder.

With one last little buck, you send her away to her bed. She laughs and drapes her dress over her arm, catching it with her hand as the straps fall over her arm. She winks and leans back, reaching high behind her to grip the pole of the foot of the bed. She turns, her back so damn sexy in the lamplight. The four-poster is the same one you wore marks into the wall with, banging the headboard, terrorizing her cat.

Rarity dropped her dress to hang about her sexy hips, leaning against the pole with two hands, bucking her ass back and spreading her legs, making quite a shelf. She shook her hips slowly back and forth, the stripes on her ass turning hypnotic. You groan your approval as you undo buttons in a blaze. Your seventy-bit shirt falls in a pile at your feet with your expensive shoes. She’s now hugging the pole, her perky, soft tits wrapped around it, shimmying out of her dress. She stands in lavender lace underwear, smiling over her shoulder as your belt hangs in your hand.

Would she like it? There was a huge risk. She’s, oh god, is she begging for it?

The signals are too hard to read. You drop your belt and watch her eyes follow it to the floor. The urge to snatch it back up like a weapon and advance on that delicious ass are strong. You relent and move in unarmed, but she turns and holds out a hand. “Where do you think you’re going? Is that how you’re going to play with your food?” she giggles like a little girl, pulling on her panties.

The offer is too much, you take her little body up like a piece of meat and throw her soft body on her bed, climbing in after. You lift her legs high in the air over your shoulders and kiss and lick your way up her hot thighs. You spread them wide as you kiss her panties, right on the crotch, looking into her eyes. She is red in the face, breathing hard, hands near her head. You lick the cloth and give it a bite, pulling them aside. It was way hotter to leave them on, yanked to the side.

The smell, oh god, it was so fucking good, yet so awfully terribly mouthwatering. She was always so clean. You feel a tug at your pants and look down, seeing a glowing blue hand there. Rarity laughs as she finds the button, undoing it. You focus back at the lips, puffy and wet in front of you.

The outer pair are lush and full, practically gushing with life and heat. You give them a tender kiss, like the lips on her face. She moans at that. You sigh over the mons and give her a gentle suck on both lips whole. Like two little wings, her soft pink lips melt in your mouth. You dive your tongue down inside her hot vulva, tickling her pink underneath. You gently tickle her clit with a little fluttering motion, moaning deep and suck on her hot button. She arches her back as your cheeks cave in, your hands clenching her hips, pulling her body into you.

She clenches your hair and tugs, smiling down to you, her ass in the air as you hold her tight. Rarity groans and smiles, her feet pushing her up. You dive your tongue deep inside and get her shoulders to spasm, her hips bucking you off of her.

With a show of swiftness, you pull yourself on top of her to kiss her neck, erection long and stiff between her thighs. “I need you so much,” you groan in her ear, hand tangled in that long dark hair of hers.

Rarity whimpers like a lapdog as you bring her knees up, spreading her thighs wide. You lay between her, your long, hard cock finding those wet lips you had in your mouth seconds ago. “Ah,” you groan in her ear, her nails digging into your back. She doesn’t let up a bit as you sink inside, moaning, breath tickling her ear. You bite her lobe and lift her lower back in the air as you hold her close. “Rarity…” You find yourself mumbling as you sink deep, deep inside. Your raw flesh touches hers, the tip prodding her cervix, making the woman gasp and arch her back more sharply.

You shiver once, she breathes into your ear and whines, her legs curling around your back. You thrust deep inside her, with plenty of force, pressing her into her lush bed. With a slow, deliberate motion, your hips pull back and your long cock nearly falls out. You sink it deep inside, finding her cervix and pushing still. At last, you find your bare need for intimacy sated. You kiss her sweetly on the temple and begin to really thrust rhythmically.

“G-owah, yes,” she groans, relaxing under you. Her body goes near limp as you use it like a dog uses a leg. She smiles into your face as you speed up, making those perfect pillows bounce. “I’m on birth control, still, Beau,” she says, stroking your jaw. “I want you inside me.”

You kiss her lips, and she squirms. She always hated the flavor of her pussy on your lips, but you don’t care. She doesn’t either, cupping your face and shoving her tongue in your mouth. You inhale through your nose and make the bed rock with the force. Faster, harder, till you need to pull back to suck air.

You look down in the dim light and make out her lips spread around your veiny cock. You look to her face, her eyes are fluttering, rolling back as you jerk your hips and buck her hard. “E-Easy,” she breathes. You ease the force, but pick up the pace. You feel like you’re starting to get close.

“Rarity,” you pant, sweat starting to bud on your skin.

She smiles and says: “I already had three, I think, darling. Cum, deep inside me!”

You grip one of her tits and kiss her hard, fingers clutching firmly. You buck your hips deliberately, each thrust unique. You guide yourself in and out carefully, aiming your body, tempted to pull out, but it’s so much more satisfying to satisfy her. You break the kiss and moan in her ear, cheek against hers. “Love you, baby,” you groan.

“I love you!” she whines, back arching as the thrusts are becoming shaky. Her legs clamp down, holding you inside. The tip of your cock throbs like mad, and you can feel your balls have stopped swinging so wildly. You grit your teeth and buck and buck and buck until it just happens.

“A-Aaaugh!” You grunt, then pant, throat clenching up sometimes as your cock flexes and pumps its load deep into her receiving flesh. It’s so hot, wet, fragrant, tight, perfect, you hold her tight like she’s treasure and just breathe hard for a while, sharing your sweat and breath and love.

“Love you,” she whispers, letting her head hit the pillow, at last. You play with her long, messy hair and smile, the first time without that awful rocky feeling in your heart in a long, long time. For at least five minutes, Rarity just nuzzles her cheek or slides her hand or wiggles her body, content as you are, apparently, with just staying like this.

You sit up with a grunt. “Love you, too, Rarity,” you say, looking down at her body, part of you still inside. A smile grows across your fatigued face in the dark. You touch her warm body, seeing with your touch. You feel her stomach, a light layer of soft fat over her muscle, she’d been working out. You feel up, skin milky smooth and velvety soft. You can feel her ribs faintly, then her beautiful C-ish cups. They were plenty. Her nipples were the treasure, hard and small, perfectly sensitive, as indicated by her little gasp as you run your thumbs over both at the same time. You feel her sides and come up, touching her shoulders and pressing down, watching her face as she looks up at you. Slowly, you feel her sexy collarbone, then her neck. One hand rests there, hers at her side.

You don’t linger, feel no need to, it’s lovely as the rest of her, even the nearly imperceptible scar. She smiles as you touch her chin, moving her face gently. “What did I do to deserve such a gorgeous woman? Who’s painting did I pull you from, huh?”

She laughs, oh god it’s beautiful. She takes your hand and pulls you down, her other gripping the nape of your neck. You share a long, sweet kiss, she tastes delicious. “Flattery will get you anything,” she whispered, adding a little giggle. You kiss her again, pushing up and pulling out of her.

“Ung,” you grunt. You kneel back, feeling cold now. The blankets follow you as you lay next to her, her little body in your arms. She rolls on top of you and kisses you deeply, stopping your hand as it travels down her tender back. Her tongue finds yours, and you indulge in a few minutes of her saliva and breath.

By the end, all the grinding and sighing and moaning and handling has gotten you hard. Rarity feels this, obviously, because her stomach is grinding against the stiff pole resting on your nude belly. She sighs and sits up, fixing her mane in the dimness. “Need a break?” she asks, hand cupping your balls.

“Not yet,” you say, smiling up at her.

Rarity’s fingers grip the head of your shaft and stroke the sticky skin. “Good. Because I need you.” With that, she slips down under the covers, spinning so her head is in your lap and ass on your chest. You grip her rear as her lips find your cockhead. She moans, vibrating everything as she slips her lips up and down. Not a bit of softness remains.

“Ah, oh god yes,” you groan. “I can’t believe how good you are, Rarity...”

Rarity spits your member out, looking over her shoulder. “Don’t forget. I’m sorry, darling, but I need more than just to suck tonight. Well, that’s a lie, I’m not sorry in the slightest.”

Laughing as she does it, Rarity sits up and scoots til her ass is in your lap, your cock pressed against her lower tummy. She stands tall on her knees and leans forward. Her hand guides you inside, and again, it’s like heaven. The wetness, the heat, her pussy is so snug, too. She sighs as she sits down, facing away, hair in a messy ponytail in her hand. You stare at her hourglass body. “Oh my god,” you mumble, drinking in every curve and line of her back. “Rarity.”

She smirks, grinding back and forth in quick little circles. “I know.” She wore such a smug air, but that was perfectly fine when she started to slowly rise and fall, your long cock buried deep inside her hot pussy. Your hands reach for her hips, but there’s no point. She’s doing exactly what you want. Her everything thick hips, tiny waist, even her boobs are visible on either side of her torso from behind. You follow the curve of her spine all the way to her little shoulders, twisted to look back at you. Her eyes drink in your body, too, her hips twisted just slightly as she rises and falls quickly.

Rarity faces forward again and arches her back down to put more sexy in her moves. “Ah, you’re so big.” Rarity groans as she works her hips, yours bucking up into her. The pleasure this time is even better. She works hard and fast, smiling over her shoulder. “Ah, you like that, you love my little pussy.”

You reach forward and take her hips, arms crossing across her belly. You pull her back and hold her little body to yours, smiling, cheek against hers. “You know I do, baby, let me fuck you, now.” Rarity laughs out, nuzzling you sweetly. She suddenly gasps as your hips buck into her, sliding your cock deep in and out, rapidly. “Fuck, I love you, Rarity,” you groan in her ear.

She cups your cheek, feet resting on the sheets keeping her body in the air. You fuck up into her, quite effectively. She closes her eyes and whines little snippets of praise as you make her body bounce from recoil. Your thrusts grow harder and harder, you’re grunting in her ear. You take her body and spin her onto her chest, pinning her under you, pushing her down with both hands on her shoulders. You grip and pull on her, your body making her eyes roll back. She lays there, face turned to the side and pressed into the pillow.

You feel it, that surge, the rush of power. There’s no chains or cuffs or collars, you aren’t even smashing her face into the pillow, but it’s just as good as if you were. No wax, no whips, no choking, no ropes, just skin on skin, soft sheets, and plenty of hot sweat. You feel the pressure build up, prompting you to ease back and let the pace cool down so you can think straight.

Rarity whines over her shoulder. “Beau, don’t stop!” You kiss her cheek and stand back up tall on your knees. “Where do you want to cum?” she asked, smiling. You use long, slow thrusts, showing her how long you really are, making her moan. The tip just pops out, then you carefully, precisely slip inside, filling her up. Her shoulders quake, back arching, her face lifting up as she squeaks out. You bottom out, filling her up completely, but follow through and make her whole body lean forward. You swallow, grunting softly, smiling down at her. Silently, you slip back, letting your member languidly get pushed out of that tight, squeezing hole. Her pussy gapes just a bit as you pull out, snugging shut a moment after. You push back in, making the girl inhale deep. You place your hands on that round, tight, perfect ass, nice and big for you to squeeze. You push in carefully, just feeling her velvet smoothness glide apart for your stiff pole, on the verge.

A dozen times, you fill her with your desires, so slow, elongating the process. She’s panting, sweating still, shivering. She looks back after every thrust, her eyes begging for the carnal pounding you had given her. She smiles after a tiny bit of time, breathing fast and deep. You smile back and double the timid pace, leaning forward. You rest your body on hers, cheek on her forehead. You breathe out with her, hands pushing on her wide hips toward the foot of the bed.

“That’s it,” you breathe, rocking with her. She reaches up and cups your cheek, your hand covers hers, intertwining her fingers as you speed up more and more, your flesh meeting along all of her soft body, Rarity even tangles her slender legs with yours. You use more of a rolling motion, making her body seem to bounce as you undulate together, so close, so hot.

It feels beyond amazing. You glide all the way in effortlessly, but the feeling is growing numb as your member grows used to the sensation. Luckily, you could do this forever. You double the tempo again, listening to a silent concerto in your head, and this is the finale, the triumphant conquering, the jovial, jubilant celebration. You hug her body ever tighter and push hard inside, making her tiny feminine voice whimper. She nuzzles her hair into your chin as you finally ejaculate a volley of powerful blast, groaning with her trembling body. The eruptions rock your body, and you spasm, pushing down as hard as you can, anything to dive deeper, deeper inside, her core is not enough.

You open your eyes at last, sucking air, your front searing hot. You stand on your arms in a pushup position, Rarity’s skin peeling from yours. “Ah,” you sigh, looking at her, shifting her head to face the other way. You stand on your knees and pull out, letting her flip over and recover, too. You flop to her side like a sack of potatoes, smiling up at her face, light makeup ruined, her styled hair in shambles. She’s staring past the foot of the bed, a dull smile lingering on her face, she’s breathing rapidly, her beautiful breasts just standing perky from her little body. You slip to sit at her side and put your arms behind your head, just enjoying the stuffy air with her for some time.

“Beau,” she sighed after a pregnant pause. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” she laughed, lowering herself to lay on her side, resting her head against your sparsely hairy chest, you lower your arm and hug her tenderly. Lying nude is a necessity. Covered in drying sweat and partially with a tangled blanket, both your bodies are in need of something cool.

You give the perfect woman a kiss on her forehead and sit back, sighing deep. “God, that was something else, wasn’t it? I think it was for me, too. I, I just wanted to give you everything.”

Rarity giggled and stroked your chest, your abs, your groin, cupping your wet, softening cock. “I felt like a slab of meat, and you were just pounding me, then,” she swallows, “you just started sawing, so slooow! OoooOOOH! Oh, Beau that was so hot! I loved it.”

You smile, closing your eyes and just relaxing. “Just came to me,” you reply, squeezing her tight as she starts to gently stroke your sticky dick, just a bit sore from the abuse. “How do you feel?”

“Sweaty,” she stated instantly, looking at her body. “Filthy, dirty, thirsty, nasty, hungry, a bit lovestruck. You?”

You rub her shoulder. “Sleepy. Satisfied, somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” she asked, standing on an elbow. She pulled her hair out of her face, careful to use her clean hand, the same with which she supported herself. It looked odd, pulled to the right, her left. “You just fucked my brains out, darling, and you’re not satisfied?”

You look at your toes, not thinking about anything much at all. “I want this. This is great. But I want even more. Not, girls, or you know, that mean stuff. I want more of you. Everyday.”

She seemed to relax, smiling, of course she was better: she heard what she wanted to hear. But, there was that nagging line next to her mouth, she wasn’t that simple, nor dumb. “I want you, too, Beau. Why don’t we do this, the whole being together, thing?”

“We made a great item, didn’t we,” you breathe into her lips, touching foreheads.

“You mean ‘will make’, sweetie,” she stated factually. The kiss was long and sweet, just like the two of you. “Come, rub soap all over my tits, darling,” she said crossly, sitting up with difficulty. “Ugh, I will feel this tomorrow. I love being your slam piece, darling, but it takes a toll on a lady.”

That makes you laugh. You swing your legs over and hop up, tired more than anything. You squat down and lift Rarity up like viking booty again, she doesn't even squeak. She sits with poise, a perfect prize, knowing she’s ideal and graceful, save for the cum leaking from her reddened pussy lips, waxed smooth.

The shower water was less than lukewarm at first, thank some higher power. The chill was a welcome rinse. Soon, Rarity dials the heat up and suds up her hair, with plenty of help, then her body, exclusively with help. She sighs, whining and slapping your fingers as you finger her. “Allow me,” she sighs, leaning back into your chest. “Your fingers are bigger than mine, and she’s already sore.”

She turns when prompted and lets you watch. She whimpers, the slimy sauce dripping away as you gently stroke her thighs. Once clean, she eagerly strokes your soapy cock, juggling your sack, too. She lifts her hands and moves her less smelly soap all over you, loosing all the caked up sweat and grime. She insists on massaging your back and gluteus, a pleasant sensation.

The perils of double showers are there, the cold lapses, the crowding, the blind bumping, but it’s cute and fun for the moment. You climb out and let her rinse her hair some more, there’s loads of it to rinse. After toweling off, drinking plenty, of water, you get to drool at Rarity in her bathrobe. It’s barely long enough to reach the world’s finest thighs. The plush white and pink gown is just begging to be in a dirty magazine or something. She even thought the comment was funny, she must be smitten.

You stay up and help change the sheets, probably a good idea, cleanliness is next to, obviously.

The makeout lasts probably twenty minutes before it devolves into careful cuddling with little whispers, her legs keeping your knees from resting on each other and vice versa.

At last her breathing is slow and steady, just like her heart. You swallow and let your lips smile. A gentle fingertip just barely touches her scar. “I love you,” you whisper into her ear from behind, giving her a tender kiss on the ear.

Pinkie Pie

View Online

Why the fuck were they working on the fucking roads right now? You open your eyes and close them immediately to the evil, stabbing morning light. No more of that. Two jackhammers are fucking in a dumpster, and you’re inside for the ride. You rub your eyes with the grace of a cranky infant, your throat uttering a noise akin to one the same creature might make. Sickness swirls in your brain, turning up into sideways and sideways into inside out. You roll onto your front and accept the bed as your lord and savior, but it isn’t silencing the ringing, pounding, and machinegunning noises.

“Gafucking dam-gauh..” you burp and breathe hard, regretting opening your mouth. You hiccup, then lurch, moving your face over the edge of the bed just in time to hurl. Your throat muscles pull up rancid beer and rum and rumpleminze and red bull, maybe. You wipe your mouth, feeling a little better. Sight isn’t torture, besides the ugly pinkish mess on the floor of, where was this? You struggle to pull yourself upright. “Ah… fuck me.”

You stumble half blind to the bathroom and ride the sink like a rollercoaster. Running water, no not the fucking hot tap, cold, it’s so good. You rinse your teeth, gagging as you try to swallow and ease the burn of bile. You fall on your ass and just rest… so nice.

Three shotgun blasts reported, making your ears ring. The police had a megaphone, a damn powerful one. “HOUSEKEEPING!”

You just lay on the cold tile, so nice, so solid and refreshing on your slender chest, hands on your ears. The door opens with a hard kick, swinging open gently. A little woman with terrible posture meets your eyes, frowns, and shuts the door. She mumbles something behind the shut door, loud but inscrutable.

You open your eyes, the sunbeam from the window had moved to slow cook your puke. The clock was a few hours after noon, and the world doesn’t sound like the inside of a fish tank at a preschool where kids knocked on the glass.

You sniff, regretting that immediately. The counter helps you up, your legs a little less shaky. You manage to keep down some water, and drain out last night’s fun into the toilet via the proper end. “Guuh… That’s dark.”

You flush and wash your hands, glancing to the shower. You start the hot water and use a towel to sponge up the puke. You toss the rag into the trash, suddenly remembering. She was blonde, sorta ditzy, maybe? It was hard to remember. The girl from the crowd had been one fun lay, nice perky, big tits.

You enter the water slowly, sighing deep. The wall supports you as you scrub off last night, oh Celestia it was exactly what you needed. Your twig and berries are sore, more than every other muscle, so something must have gone down. You rub your forehead, groaning. “Why the fuck do I drink like that?” You sit in the shower and relax, moaning as water splashes over your sleek arms and legs.

“Glad I don’t gotta play tonight.” Post ten minute soak, you pull yourself to your feet and burp, swallowing back a little bile. You soap off some more, especially your groin, and step out. You towel off and rinse your mouth again, swallowing a whole gulp. You find some motrin in your cluttered bag and knock it back with some more water, enough for now. You pull your little pipe from your bag and plug a little grass inside, a little indica, and spark a few small hits, just enough to dull the sharp pain. You fall back naked and close your eyes. When you open them, you’re cold and it’s dark outside. Your phone is dead, so you hook that up to the charger, groaning as you rise to your feet.

You use the bathroom and drink a few glasses of sink water, so delicious. It’s just before midnight, but there’s no way you can sleep. You turn that phone on, the latest greatest model, and rub your dully throbbing groin and see the dozen or so missed text messages. Only one really stands out, that girl from Ponyville.

“Sup? Remember me? You played in ponyville like, forever ago! Five years! It’s Pinkie Pie, you played at my shop. Well, wasn’t really mine, but… Anyway, I saw you were headlining for the first ever Ponyville Amphitheatre show! I figured we could, ya know, chill or something. Except you probably have roadies to help now!” You read and reread, remembering smoking and fucking, those fuckng tits, and her blonde friend, too. You smile wide, recalling your first session of groupsex, just a month after your first time in bed with a girl. You lay back, sprawled out, and look at the tour schedule. Ponyville, that was tomorrow, almost today. It seemed like a week ago, but… was it five years? Hard to believe, now. Those damn changelings had come and gone again, so had that Tirek guy. Was it so hard to believe it had been five years since Luna came back? She made one hell of a motif for a trance track.

You look at your cock, it’s getting hard. You open the music app and play something, anything, the silence so boring now that you recall that music exists. You type your reply, smiling, nodding your head to the music.

She replies within a few seconds, and in a quarter hour, picture message, bare tits. She rings five minutes later, uber eager to see you. Her voice is chirpy and happy as ever, and only a little slurred. It’s a four hour drive tomorrow, though, so no meet and fuck tonight. She giggles at the idea of having a threesome with the blonde girl. She’s married, who knew?

Pinkie hangs up after about two hours, and by the end you’re hard. You groan and pull out your laptop, but not to open the web browser or spank bank. You pull up the song you’re working on and plug in headphones. Might as well do something half productive.

You tinker with the bars and melody, dropping in different instruments and sounds, mixing new ones, it takes about ten minutes to break through the artist block. You find yourself smiling as hours pass, but enough staring at a screen for now. You stand and stretch, it’s four in the morning. You check your phone and lay back again, wondering if sleeping again was worth it. New message, from Pinkie. She sent it five minutes after she hung up, it’s her panties, pulled down so low her little lips were just about free. There isn’t a hair in sight. The text reads “Told ya I waxed :D”.

With the new song just needing some polish, you reach down and polish the broom handle.

At ten there’s a hard knock on the door, the driver. “Yeah!” you shout, sniffing and sitting up, holding your head. You swallow and hop in the shower, again, and throw on some clothes. You gather up all your stuff and head to the bus, leaving a twenty with a frowny face scribbled on it near the vomit stain on the carpet.

As you wave goodbye to the clerk, you look at your tour bus, smiling behind cheap sunglasses. You climb in and plop down on the couch, closing your eyes, not looking at all the posters and lights and decorations.

“What the fuck did you do, Axel?” the esteemed Timponi asks, her voice raspy as ever. “I didn’t see you at all since we stopped here.”

A girl stumbles out of the bathroom and off the bus, wearing not much besides a tiny set of shorts. You pull your shades off and let them fall on your chest. “Not a damn thing… It was fucking great.”

“Well, glad you had fun,” she says snidely. “You missed out on the party last night.”

“Were all your local friends bummed cuz they couldn’t meet me?” you ask, sitting up.

“Yeah!” she clicks her phone and fixes her top. She has the nicest jugs, but more than that, she’s extremely creative when it comes to music, namely blending old and new. She was a wonder to work with, too, often providing plenty of “creativity” breaks, usually involving spit, sweat, or some other bodily fluids, often a little grass or something else. “But, that’s alright. Did you really not do anything?”

You shrug, spreading your legs as you sit back. “Well, one of those local girls wanted to hang out, so, yeah. She left sometime, then I made a few phone calls, worked on a song and basically tried not to die. I don’t think I’ve ever been as hungover as yesterday.”

Timponi rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Sure.” Getting her upset was sometimes an explosive situation. Her maternal worry was easily quieted, however, with a little reassurance. It was still morning, and the drive wasn’t too long. You get some breakfast at the little shitty motel breakfast nook, a delivered donut and some prepackaged cereal, and a little school milk, no, chocolate milk. You take a metal spoon, no intention of returning it.

You open your computer on the bus as the roadies all pile in or climb into their own cars. The bus snorts and lurches forward, taking off on the short journey to scenic Ponyville, wish you were here.

You kill half an hour on trash internet, mostly stupid cat pictures or other wastes. You manage to be productive on the new track. With Timponi’s approval, you planned to debut it. The great thing about mixing was you could really do it on the fly. Numerous artists were “caught” playing premixed tracks, and the fallout was usually between a hissy fit and a full on scandal, depending on the fame and reaction of the artist. It didn’t make much sense. Why would you ever play premade stuff? Mixing wasn’t hard, and watching the crowd and playing them up or down was by far the most fun aspect of being a DJ.

“Soft part isn’t long enough, gotta give everyone a chance to breathe,” was what she had to say after listening to five minutes of the track. “Chord is weird, just before, too, why does that sound major?” she asked, sipping on her drink.

You listen and relisten, closing your eyes, softly stomping your foot, just imagining being in that sea of people, pretending you’re a drop of water in that ocean of sound. She was right, the soft part just left you as it got interesting, and the chord wasn’t triumphant, or maybe it was, but that just didn’t fit the darker sound. This was a song about deep heavy trance, the bass booming and breaking down walls, the perfect thing those college girls would dig. The hook was fine, great. She didn’t mention it, so it had to be perfect. You tap your fingers along with the melody, biting your lip and throwing your head left and right. It was heavy, and it was great. You double the slow low part, building, building, avoiding the cliche of just doubling the hit sounds as it reached the drop. Pinkie had liked that, looking up, face covered in…

Instead it got to this ramp, low incline at first, but it rapidly steepened, the pitch rolling higher repeatedly, a sort of canon as it just grew, more and more layers, twenty-five at the peak with a rhythm that cycled and shifted just enough. The last note that climbed to the top sung for a few bars, every other sound dropping away.

Then, you hold your hands in the air, and slam them down on your thighs, bobbing your head to the disgusting drop. “Fuck yeah,” you shout, nearly throwing your headphones to her.

The signs on the road say Ponyville, twenty miles. You barely even feel like going to take a piss, it had been over three hours. The trip into town is pretty quick, the traffic is not bad, the town is a bit of a sprawl, it seems.

You’re the first one off, stretching, headed to the venue to see what’s going on. A man is waiting in jeans and a tucked in shirt, he looks like military or government type, despite his long hair. His stomach was too big for his youngish looking face and broad shoulders. “Axel!” he says, hand held out to shake. He had the body of a heavy drinker.

You take it, immediately irritated. He just exuded a tool vibe, but he seemed dependable. “I’m Psi, manager of the Ponyville Amphitheater. You sold a lot of tickets, sir. Want to see where everything is? The green room, the stage, the tunnel out for musicians, shit like that.”

“Yeah, man, lead the way. I’ll let everyone unwind after the trip, then we’ll start setting up.”

You follow as he leads, noticing the walkie talkie he had on his belt, a clear tube leading to an earpiece. “Awesome, right this way.” He takes you under the concrete structure, an open forum with a sinister network of cement pillars and columns behind it all. Advertising flags hung on all the fences for beer or soda or whatever, it was dizzying. “We’re ready to seat fifty thousand, with thirty thousand more standing room. Parking was the real challenge,” he said, droning on as you check your phone, replying to a text from Pinkie Pie. Busy baby sitting? Didn’t seem too much like her.

The young manager guy, what was his name, was alright, if a bit stiff, but he didn’t bullshit. He was helpful and at least energized. He knew every door and hallway, showing off semi-hidden door handles for getting to and from the vip sections. You hope you can remember half of it come showtime.

With plenty of help, thousands of bits of gear is ferried from the bus and everyone’s cars into the stage area, segregated from the opener's. You meet them all, local guys and girls, one group was familiar, even. You get reacquainted with a few Ponyvillians over some bowls and beers, nothing too much. Your liver is still a little sore.

You check your phone almost constantly, Pinkie is texting whenever she isn't busy with the toddlers. You get to know more about them, finding yourself more interested than you'd expect. Thankfully, they're not hers, only her close friends’/landlords’/boss’.

Three knocks ring out on the as the tingling really hits your body. You smile behind shades as someone opens the door.

“Hello?" a girl asked, accompanied by another shorter, who was dressed a little more appropriate for a rave. “Um, Pinkie sent us.”

You look up from the first’s chest, she's sporting something fierce under her little hoodie and tank. Her shiny black hair fell to her shoulders. Her friend stepped in in her tiny tube top, matching her rainbow hair. “Who are you guys? “ You ask, sitting up.

They make their way over and stand in front of you as two men walk in. Did those guys know each other? “You the DJ Pinkie knows?” the rainbow haired one asks.

“I know her, yeah. Sup?” You take the pipe as it comes your way and keep it rolling.

She cocks her hip, god, those shorts are painted on, you could see her lips clearly in the silky fabric. You suck a deep breath, looking at the other girl. She looks as uneasy as the man standing near her. The rainbow girl looked cocksure, and the dark-brown-haired guy closer to her was sitting next to you. You offer the bong as you hold in a hit. “Do I owe you money or something?" you ask as you blow your lungful out. “Ease up, why don’t ya?”

The local group, god, what was their name? They started to rise. “Yo, Axel. We're up first. See ya later, bro.”

You wave them out, leaving you alone with four new people. “You seriously don't recognize either of us?”

You shrug. “My porn tastes gotta be getting stale.” That made the tall girl blush. The brown haired guy takes a healthy hit and offers the bong to rainbow, who passes to tall and innocent. She sheepishly accepts, smiling.

“I'm um, I'm Twilight Sparkle. I'm Pinkie Pie’s good friend."

“Hmmm… Princess?" you ask, looking at her, the motion blur is turned way top high. You laugh at how the world sluggishly struggled to catch wherever your eyes wander. The focussed circle falls onto her cute face.

Twilight nods. “I'm Rainbow Dash, the one and only,” the shorter girl says, sitting on man 2’s lap after he sat on the couch you resided. “This is my boyfriend Jake and that's Tyler, he's dating Twilight.”

“Cool. Axel. I melt faces. Puff puff pass, princess, you're fuckin up the rotation.” Rainbow erupts with laughter, two hands finding her perky little tits. You watch as she's held down by her boyfriend, her neck getting slowly devoured. So it was one of those kind of parties.

Twilight made an awkward little laugh as she and the square looking nerd sat in a big comfy chair. It looked much older than the new concrete stadium around you. “Oh man. I haven't done this in a while…"

“No one's making you," the guy said, holding her tight. You turn back to the show, a hand getting under that little shirt. She was grinding her little hips like crazy. Biting her lip and moaning, the whole nine. You shift over a bit and give them more elbow, knee, foot, tongue, et cetera room.

“Crystal Thunder Fuck, excuse me,” you inform her majesty. “Some serious sticky. I didn't know the princess of friendship liked to smoke grass.”

Her chest swells as she draws a dense cloud into the chamber. She sucks the carb clean, yanking the bowl out quickly. Twi smiles and looks over to Dash having her nipples tweaked. “Haven't-” she tried to talk, but coughed out a surprising lungful. Tim took the bong and cleared the chamber the rest of the way, smiling as he kissed her wet, pouty lips. God, she just looked cuter by the second.

You reach for the bong, but Taylor holds up a finger, saying “one minute”. You grin and relax back, a little hand with colorful nails on your thigh.

You let her do anything as Abram or whoever pulls out a little slip of paper. “I wanted to try this while I was still mostly sober. It's an entropic spell, in reverse. It might get a little warm in here, laws of physics, don't worry about it. But Axel, gotta ask, don't you hate it when you run out of bud? Duh, everyone does. What if you could sprinkle some trash in the bowl of ashes, cast a spell, and rejuvenate those ashes into fresh greens?”

“Sweetie, are you doing to do this here?"

“Why not? Worst case scenario, I-”

“Burn your damn hand! I, oh Celestia it's hitting me." Twilight leaned into him and touched her head, smiling dreamily, the guy looking at Dash taking her tiny shirt off. No bra, no need obviously. She was kinda butch, maybe she was packing a sausage down south.

“Hell yes,” the guy breathed over her neck. He spread her legs a little as she leaned back, her little body clinging to his. Dash’s hand found your groin and cupped your package firmly.

“Come on, Twi. I’ve only burned myself twice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not with this in your hand.” She took the bong and handed it to you, sans bowl. “And oh my goodness, Dash, you can’t even wait five minutes?”

“Mngh- If I can’t smoke because of the damn Wonderbolts rules, I’m going to have fun somehow.” She giggled and leaned on you, fingers working between her upper thighs. You touch her hair some as a heatwave suddenly blasts out from the left. You look over at the bowl and see the burnt green was capped with a grey mass of what looked like tissue paper.

He inspected it closely, looking just mind-blown. You grin wide and lean a little into that channel, interested in this plotline, one hand on Dash’s little hip. “Hmm, not exactly what I was expecting,” he said, interrupted by a short trio of knocks on the door. Dash and friend don’t bother covering up. The guy who was practicing magical botany used his green magic to open the door. In walked in four strangers and Pinkie Pie.

The first was familiar, actually, Applejack, looking country girl hot as ever. The guy behind her was familiar, Brian? The other girl with super long black hair was wearing something far too fancy for a hazy backstage party, turning orgy. She had some fancy-type, too. What were they doing here, appraising the building? Hopefully they wouldn’t mind just a little smoke damage. The colloseum still had had the new car smell when you came in earlier.

And those jugs, in a tiny blue hoodie, were massive as ever. There was no way they were mere D-cups.

“Hey! The party’s not supposed to start til I walk in!” The pink-haired girl bounced over and landed in your lap, facing you, and dropped her tongue right into your mouth. Your hand shoots up to her breast as you taste cotton candy, blue flavor, as evidenced by her wet tongue. She giggled and planted a wet kiss on your forehead, leaving a nice lipstick mark, you can feel the makeup drying as it caked your skin. She wore a healthy amount, but her vivid, neon blue lips were the centerpiece. They would look great wrapped around your now hard cock.

“Y’all partyin’ in the quiet? What gives? I thought we were backstage at a rave.” AJ laughs and gives Dash’s nipple a quick pinch, they fight briefly, ending up in that one guy’s lap kissing, AJ leading the dance. You breathe deep and watch as Pinkie grinds her round ass into your lap, moving your hands to her zipper. You look up and undo her tiny hoodie, smiling, seeing her itty bitty matching blue tube top. God, it was about four sizes too small, and was she even wearing a bra?

You accept the bowl, at last, and brush off some of the weird ashy paper. You get things rolling again with a little spark and hold your hit in, giving the bong up to Pinkie as she sits at your side. Dash lays her body back, head in Pinkie’s lap, AJ sitting on the arm of the couch with Dash’s feet in her lap. You rest your hand on that little chest, her boyfriend has his hand on her warm little crotch. Pinkie coughs as she lets out a gargantuan hit, the other duo content to chill on the chairs the other band occupied earlier. The chair Twilight and her boyfriend were in faced the couch, an arm's length away. The metropolitan girl turned on a little stereo hiding in the corner with a smile, using her own device to play something poppy. It’s not half bad.

You hold Pinkie sideways as another pipe makes its rounds, but you’re ripped for now. A jazzy little melody plays from behind a wall of cement, the first band is starting at last. “Nice trip, Axy?” Pinkie Pie asks, resting her head on your shoulder, her own hand pulling Rainbow’s shorts down. The nubile girl in everyone’s lap helps to strip herself nude. There wasn’t a tan line or a hair on her. Her boyfriend gently fingers her as AJ helps to light his bowl.

You give those big, blue, perfect lips a kiss as her hand strokes your chest. “It was awesome. I finished my newest song.”

“What’s it called? Spweed, right?” she asked, her voice so cute and bubbly, but you can tell the grass was creeping on her. The body high had her skin tingling, just like yours. You reach full around and grip her breast firmly, making her flinch. “Ah, I’ll take that as a yes. I can’t WAIT to rock out later!”

You laugh as the bong makes the telltale fwosh as it’s cleared by AJ. She lets out a meager puff of smoke, the bowl cleared. The busty girl fishes out a bag from her bra. “Woah woah,” you shout, holding out your hand. “We’re in the good times, Applejack, let me feed you. Uh, bag on the chair by her, the… the girl. With the clothes. In the zipper pocket.”

Her little white cotton shirt looked painted on, too, like Dash’s tiny little shorts which were now on the floor. She’s got tiny jean shorts on, too, showing off those long legs, which are being stroked by a pair of calloused hands. Tim number two looks a little worse for wear, now that you look. Small bags under the eyes, a hearty beard on his chin, his tight T-shirt had some of those douchey fighting sport logos and stuff. All he needed was a pair of sporty expensive shades and a camouflage ball cap. He was good people though.

It was a backpack, every pocket was zippered, but city girl found the bag and marveled at a bud the size of her head. “Poor no more!” you shout, beaming. “Hah, I love being a rockstar.”

“Oh Celestia,” Posh Spice said from her chair. “That’s quite a lot.” How did they all know each other again? Some sort of magic, celebrity thing. They all were sorta familiar.

“I’m just glad you all can enjoy-ah! Fuck!” Dash squirms as she has one finger slid deep, deep inside her. You move your head so she can lift her leg high, resting her knee on her shoulder. You stroke her muscular, slim thighs, her skin so warm and soft, her knee by her face.

It’s close quarters, but Pinkie slips her little hand down your pants and cups your groin gently. “I bet rockstars get tons of pussy,” she whispers in your ear, giving it a little lick. AJ takes a gigantic hit as Pinkie giggles and leans back, slipping out of her hoodie and little itty bitty tube top. She shifts forward, her massive breasts hanging in Dash’s face. The athletic girl takes one and sucks, hard, her little back arching, pressing her hard nipples into your hands as you touch her. She’s the line at an all you can touch buffet.

Posh squeaks as her body is made to sit in her mate’s lap. There’s a speaker that’s turned on beyond the wall, and a deep trance starts to play. Finally, your tingling skin feels like it’s at home in the sea of sound. AJ and her lumberjack are the first to whip it out. She leans back in a chair as he takes his pants off, then hers. They moan into each other’s mouths as the princess giggles away, her little neck is devoured, bringing the bong to her lips. Dash flips over and Pinkie spreads her thick thighs, lifting her skirt.

Dash climbs off the sofa and goes mouth first into that cave as Pinkie strokes your bare cock hard and fast, moaning as you pinch her little nipple. The guy on your right stands on the floor and drops his pants, taking Dash in his strong arms like a sex doll.

Her nubile little body is lifted in the air, she must weigh no more than eighty pounds. She squeals out as he little pussy is teased by his cock, your own hitting her cheek thanks to Pinkie’s guidance. She sucks instinctively as she’s speared from behind, Pinkie’s hand on her head making her go viciously hard. “Don’t worry,” Pinkie pants out, the room growing hazy and hot. “She fucking loves th-IIIS!! Cold! What is, ooooh! Thanks, Twi! Tyler! You two having fun?” Pinkie wiggled her big butt, god it was bubbly, not too fat, as she took the bong as it made its rounds.

“I didn’t think it’d be… this fast,” he said, timidly stroking Twilight’s massive breasts. She was red from her hairline to her cleavage, her body was on fire by the look of it.

Pinkie sucks a deep hit as Dash swallows your cock whole, her neck bulging a little, her tiny body recoiling as she’s roughly fucked. You find your lips suddenly locked with Pinkie’s, wet breath pushing into your lungs slowly. You suck it down deep, touching her face, leaving you with full lungs and saliva hanging from your lips. You blow towards AJ as she’s riding reverse cowgirl, failing to get her attention. Even in a sturdy pushup, her big tits bounce so fantastically. D cups? Doubles? She’s riding for life, long rolling strokes. You motion to the fashion models across the way, but find the bong yanked from you by the gym rat ploughing Dash from behind.

Pinkie giggles as he pauses to take a deep hit. He holds it out to the girl behind him, the pretty city type. The well dressed girl was ogling Dash’s boyfriend’s butt and back, then proceeded to poke at the ash with the corner of the lighter and portioned herself a place to spark.

“Everyone’s going to cum on my face,” Pinkie whispered in your ear. “And I’m gonna wear it all as I go out into the crowd!” She kissed your cheek and pushed Dash’s head down hard, making her gag out, spitting up on your balls. You groan, feeling that pressure already. Pinkie cups your balls gently, keeping you from feeling too overwhelmed. Her massive tits in your face help, too. This was too kinky.

“Dash, that’s enough!” she shouts, yanking on her hair. The little bit of lipstick she wore, she wore lipstick, was smeared on her face and your throbbing, wet dick.

The girl rolled onto her side, her foot aimed skyward as her leg was used like a hand grip. You get up and let her face fall into the couch. Pinkie lays back, legs spread, ready for it all. “So much kinkier when the clothes are on and the panties slipped to the side, don’t you think?” she asked. She looked like she was abducted from a porno. Her huge breasts, her slutty makeup, her little waist and massive hips, her nearly flat stomach, her waxed smooth pussy lips, even her asshole looked like it was treated. You aim your leaking cock at her slit and suddenly stop.

“I’m on the pill!” she said, gripping your raw dick and popping it in, pulling you deep inside with her heels on your ass. You groan, eyes fluttering for a second as she bounces your hips back and forth. Dash is thrown like a pillow onto the couch and made to fuck in the same manner, her ankles by her face. Pinkie isn’t quite as flexible, and bounces a lot more when she’s fucked, but both pussies look young, tight, and juicy. You groan, trying to keep pace. You suck air as you stare at the girl below, she’s drooling just a bit.

Pinkie draws a breath and swallows, a cloud of fresh smoke billowing from your right, the royal onlooker. Your eyes flick to the side to see Twilight slip to her knees, turning to face her boyfriend where he sits, his hand resting on her head as she undoes his pants.

You look back down and buck your hips, listening to the music. She’s so wet and tight, it’s amazing. “Having fun?” Pinkie asked, beaming, her G cups or whatever ridiculousness bouncing with her. She inhales sharply and arched her back, you get a little lower and fuck up into her. “Took a lot of convincing getting all my friends to agree to this, Axel. Ha! Ah, right fucking there, ah Celestia, yes. Guess what else I got!”

Endless energy. “Ah, what, Pinkie?” her huge breast is sucked by the smaller girl, their fingers entwined as you lose the other guy in the beat of the music, his rhythm not quite on the beat, which was whatever.

She kissed Dash on the forehead. “Acid! Good, good stuff! Let’s drop it later, what do you think?”

You smile down at her and go deeper and faster, making your flesh slap aloud. “Yeah! Ah, fuck. Down.” You change the angle again, squatting down, really sucking for air, balls swinging as you roll deep and hard. One thing the rockstar life didn’t provide was much incentive for exercise, beyond sex. Your whole body feels tingly, there’s this watery feeling in your legs as you swing your hips back, and forth, deep inside. You squeeze her huge tit once just to remind yourself it’s real.

You pull out as the guy in Dash grunts hard, pulling out and stepping onto the couch, straddling the fucked to death pile of rainbow hair. He strokes his member in Pinkie’s face, who beams up to him, tongue out. Her little slutty face gets a trio of thick ropes shot across it, a slimy glop falling over her hair into the couch. He groans as Dash eagerly slurps his dick down, moaning and touching him, hands shaking. He falls down onto the couch and lets Rainbow just pant and sweat as Pinkie shivers, smiling wide, face covered. She giggles and wraps her legs tight around your waist, pulling you in to fuck her deep and raw.

Her juicy little pussy was dripping wet, tight, hot, the sensation building. You push a hand on her breast and give it to her faster, harder, until suddenly you pull out and stand tall, masturbating in front of her. She falls to her knees, looking up and leaning back, one eye glued shut by the last shot.

You watch her lick the tip and smile. “Mmm, I taste great. Come on, give it to me!” You ignore everything else and groan, staring at her bright blue eyes and long pink hair, jerking your throbbing cock as hard and fast as you can. She shivers with anticipation. Suddenly, that pressure reaches the top of the hill, and you feel her hand on your balls as they rise up towards your body. You roll your hips forward, Pinkie’s hands moving yours away and milking it effectively. You pant and look skyward, groaning. Your eyes fall back down as she vigorously strokes the whole shaft, licking the tip, thicker precum leaking out. You shiver slightly, watching her go, looking at how hungry she was for it.

Dash was watching, rubbing her clit, Twilight taking a break to watch closely, kneeling just an arm’s length away. You don’t check on the other two. Pinkie makes a little shiver and smiles desperately, drawing you to finish. You grunt and flex your legs as she milks your dick rapidly. “GYAH! YES!” Her hands are a blur as they stroke at supersonic speeds, sending splatters and drops of semen all over her face and far beyond. The sensation is surreal, like a great pressure was released.

Pinkie is nice and blinded, wet pools of cum soak her cute face as her thick lips wrap around your hot, wet, pulsing cock. She moans deep, vibrating it as she slurped you down into her throat, her neck bulging, leaving a vivid blue ring towards the base. She looked up through cummy bridges over her long eyelashes and donned a triumphant look, spitting your cock out slowly, slurping up her spitty, cummy treat. “So good…” she says, gulping loudly, finishing with a loud “AH!”

“Pinkie,” Twilight pouted, wiping her face. A few small spots dotted her dark shirt, but there was a heavy pool on her nose and lips, a wad dangling from her finger where she wiped her eye. Twilight glanced back at her boyfriend, then forward to you and Pinkie. She opens her mouth wide and samples the hot seed, breathing hard and deep.

You suck a few deep breaths and watch Pinkie yank Twilight over for a deep kiss, semen swirling over their tongues as Dash has a pole injected into her tender little pussy again. There’s more than enough moaning behind you as you rest on the arm of the sofa, watching AJ bounce her perfect ass up and down rapidly for a second. The main stage was the two girls spitting a serving of semen into each other’s mouths. With a little moan and Pinkie’s hand on her tender, reddened neck, Twilight swallows her gift, smiling and looking energized.

Pinkie Pie crawls over to Taylor and licks his wet cock, now, too, letting you reload. Dash pants out as her hands find your body. You lean over and give her unhindered access to your spent cock, mostly rigid, still. The walls vibrate as a deep, deep sound rocks the world. You sigh as you sink your hot member into her little wet mouth. She moans and sucks it deep as she could, not much compared to Pinkie.

The deep music is a tease, being so quiet across the wall. You buck your hips fast and shallow in her mouth, making her gag some, he body bouncing from recoil. Dash doesn’t shy away as you sink into her throat, yourself groaning as you listen to the music of flesh and the music of technology. Her little body rocks as she’s speared so deep, her little waxed lips look incredibly wet.

You pull out and let your dick throb against her face, giving Dash a chance to breathe. You watch Pinkie suck Tyler’s tip, Twilight working his shaft, he’s gonna cum soon. AJ and the other girl have moved closer, holding hands as they both ride their boyfriends, husbands? Rings were glinting in the colorful lights.

You stand up behind Pinkie and grab the bong, sparking one last hit to clear this bowl. You hold it in and return to Dash, letting it out as you let her suck your cock in again, her face a mess with a little cum and a lot of saliva. It is so fucking hot.

The body rush hits you as you touch her little boobs. You feel stiff as steel when a sudden grunt happens behind you, the nerd standing up and feeding his girlfriend and Pinkie his load. You watch some, gritting your teeth at how fucking hot Pinkie looks covered in sperm. She sits back, panting, openly stroking her pussy lips, Twilight sucking on those giant fucking boobs. You grin and step to the facialized girl and feed her your dick, which she eagerly slurps up, moaning. Twilight stares closely, touching your leg, her own little tongue out.

You quickly check the clock, still over an hour til you go on. “Open your eyes, Pinkie,” you order, smiling down at her. She peels her eyelids open, little strings dangling down from her eyelashes. She giggles, wincing as some gets in her eye. She moans and spits your dick out, saliva dripping from the pink tip.

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking painted,” she moans, laying back on the floor. You move between her legs and gently slip your hard cock inside, making her inhale sharply. “AH! Oh, yes! Nice and deeeeep…” she giggles. AJ and her friend, “Rarity!” Pinkie called out, looking up to the girl with the long hair. “You look so fucking sexy,” she said, looking over her body. “You always do!”

The girl, Rarity, laughs, moaning, eyes rolling back as she’s speared deep by her boyfriend from behind. “Thank-ah! You, darling. Cum suits you well. Beau, sweetie, would you be a dear and cover her face some more?”

That was Beau, wasn’t it?! You smile at him as he goes faster, ignoring you mostly. Funny how college was such a distant memory. You make Pinkie’s huge, messy, nude boobs bounce with some deep, rapid thrusts as your ex-friend bucks harder and harder, grunting, making his girlfriend arch her back. AJ bent over and took it doggy style, her perky tits swinging near Pinkie’s face, and kissed Rarity tongue first. They held each other’s faces and breathed hard, their mates railing them, both sucking for air.

Suddenly, both guys stop and twitch as they scramble over, stroking their cocks at Pinkie’s face. You stand tall on your knees and lean back as Pinkie shrieks with bliss, taking two fresh loads, one thick and goopy, falling out like cream, the other shooting across her face and tits. You just keep bucking as Pinkie cleans both cocks, the women beyond panting for breath, tongues and legs tangled in an awkward arrangement. They rested on one another, clothing half ripped off.

All the men in the room sit back and let their members rest, besides Dash’s boytoy, but you’re nearing the next climax. You feel the smoke swirl in your skull, your body is on fire and tingling like mad, that wet little pussy is so fucking hot! You look down at her drenched face and groan, finding your next orgasm rising quickly. The pressure builds so rapid you almost cum inside. You yank your throbbing cock out and stand on your knees, straddling her thick hips and spread legs, stroking your cock. The first rope hits her lips, but the next seven splash over her cleavage and belly, the consistency a little thinner than before. You sit back and lean on the couch as everyone just sort of stews, Dash moaning as she looks up to her boyfriend and touches his chest.

Pinkie rubs her little clit, playing with her sticky breasts. Twilight is nuzzling Tim’s long, half hard dick, AJ and Rarity are barely able to slip together and cuddle as their partner’s catch their breath. You feel thoroughly spent, happy, with an hour left.

“Ah! In my mouth!” Dash moans, as her boyfriend suddenly pulls out and straddles her waist. Pinkie barely registers. You watch her wrap her pouty little lips around the head and moan as she’s fed hot cum into her mouth. She strokes his thighs and sits back, smiling, swallowing hard.

You sit up and move next to Pinkie, grabbing one of those truly giant tits. “Feel pretty?” you ask. She nods, smiling a watery smile, her knees shaking, her pussy gaping just a little. “Want a shower?” Again, a little honest nod. You sit back and look around the room, the sweat and smoke dominating your nose. You stand and stretch as Twilight joins you, only to sit in Tommy’s lap and kiss him. There’s a pack of water bottles on the floor behind the door. You grab it and set it on the table, opening the plastic wrap. You drink half a bottle right away, the cool liquid more delicious than anything. You grab three more after slipping into your jeans again.

Jacket over your shoulders, you find Pinkie’s tiny top and matching hoodie. She wearily gets up, slipping them on, careful of her drying mess of a face. “Oh fuck yes,” she groans, touching her cheeks. “This is the hottest fucking thing. Thank you all, so, so, so much!” she’s near tears, tiredly blessing everyone. “Ah… I need a quick shower, some water, then I’ll be ready to party again!” she giggled, eyes still shut. She gets to her feet as the wonder twins writhe on the floor, giggling, kissing, their bodies being touched by the boys.

Dash rolls over, her face a mess, her body covered in sweat. She is picked up like a toy and brought to be a little spoon on the couch. “Wait! Pinkie, aren’t you gonna wear all that cum?” she asked.

Pinkie groaned, mulling it over. “Axel? What do you think?”

“I wanna play with your huge tits in the shower. Also, you look great both ways, but I don’t wanna kiss you right now, and that’s a problem.”

“See you guys from the stage!” Pinkie calls out, slipping into her pants, her panties nowhere to be found. With that, you grab your bag and leave the smelly, smokey little room, just a little sore.

As she struts by through the corridors and past concession stand lines, a dozen guys and girls stare at Pinkie Pie, confidence just oozing off her sweaty body. She giggles as her big nipples poke through her tight little shirt, cum staining her face and hair. She pushes past a pair of girls to exit onto the little paved area behind the stadium, you can feel jealousy and ire radiating off of one, lust and a friendly pride from the other.

You follow her up into the bus, eyes on her ass. The mobile apartment is vacant, when you turn on the hot water and climb into the toilet stall sized room, Pinkie strips and enters the shower immediately. You spoon with her as steamy hot water cascades down.

“We gotta be quick in here,” you softly say in her ear, your hands cupping those gigantic breasts, hard cock rubbing her wet ass. You massage soap into her skin and bite her earlobe, groaning. “I’m not done fucking you. That bud got me so fucking horny.”

“Fuck yes,” she said, lifting her ass up, spreading her legs some. “Just stick it in me, we can multitask.”

You breathe deep and hard, pumping your hard cock into her hot little wet pussy. The water robbed her of her natural lube as she scrubs her face, but her hot little pussy was slick deep inside. You angle her so that part doesn’t get wet, quickly as you shampoo her hair. You don’t even bother with your own, just soaping and rinsing your body quickly. You pop out and dry off, letting her use more of the towel, and lead her squealing into the bedroom in the back.

There’s no one lounging here, thank Celestia. Pinkie rubs her hair vigorously and lays back, legs spread. “Come on, we gotta be quick! You’re up pretty soon.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell her, rubbing those perfectly plump little pussy lips. “I’m gonna fuck you raw like we did years ago, and you’re gonna love it.”

She moaned as you spoke, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her little waist and huge tits went well with those wide hips and thick thighs. She wasn’t fat, no, she was still so fit. She ate a lot, too, mostly sugar and booze from what you remember. Either way, she was fantastic, sporting cups beyond F. You molest them as you rub your wet cock on her lips, leaning back, and sliding it again up her slit. At last you pull back and push your rigid head into her sopping wet cunt, the two of you groan as you sink your weapon deep, deep inside her velvety soft insides. Pinkie grips her hair in her hands as she lays back in your bed, holding a pillow to her face. She hugs it to her chest and looks up, smiling. “Axel, your bed smells so good, like you. Ohhhh, do me!”

You pant out and roll your hips deep and fast, sliding deep inside and out. She’s so hot! Pinkie grips your shoulders and sits up, jerking her wide hips back and forth, sitting in your lap sort of, panting and moaning and kissing your face and neck. “Ah, so big, do me, do me do me do me!” she breathes in your ear. You pick her body up and slam it to the bed, standing on your knees, holding her big ass in the air, railing with all your strength. The bus creaks under you as you treat her body like a dog treats a leg. No intimate, sweet rolling thrusts, just brutal, animalistic fucking. You grunt in her ear as your body ignites, the THC making the skin all over you tingle, but especially on your sack and cock.

Pinkie shrieks out, shivering, her feet rising as her long, curvy legs go rail straight. You grip her thick thighs hard like a hunk of meat and spread her legs, going deep and hard in her, sucking air as you break another sweat. “Ah, fuck yes!”

“I want your cum in me,” she pants, her huge tits bouncing. She bites her thick lip and plays with her boobs, her makeup not quite rinsed from her face, a little mascara on her cheek. You kiss her deep, tongue first, and push your long cock all the way in. You jerk a dozen hard thrusts, making her moan and bounce from recoil. The sensations build, and your irregular, deliberate thrusts are to milk your own dick with that perfect pussy.

You lick her face and stand tall, throwing your hips forward, grunting out as hard and as loud as you can. “Gah! AAAAAGH!”

Pinkie whimpers, back arching as her legs curl around your ass, pulling you deep inside.

The eruption is volcanic, and feels like a bomb has gone off in your core. You pant and look down at her as your throbbing orgasm rolls on and on and on, a dozen ropes pumping out deep inside. You relax at last, falling limply to the bed, sucking air and covered in a layer of sweat. You reach out to her as Pinkie rolls her body onto yours, still rolling her hips, kissing you again. Her skin is hot, her insides hotter. You moan in her mouth, smiling as she rolls her hips in loving motions.

“Feel good, Axel?” she sighed in your ear. You dumbly nod, groaning. “Good, because that was fucking magical for me. Come on,” she said, rolling onto her side, your milky cock popping out. Pinkie moans and gets to her knees on the floor, eagerly slurping and sucking you clean. “Tastes so good…”

You check your alarm clock, digital, black, velcroed in place after the first nasty turn on a night trip. Forty minutes to showtime. You make a noise between grunting and moaning as you sit up, your balls quite sore. You make your nude way to the bathroom two steps away and piss in the toilet. Pinkie appears behind you, dangling one of those stupid midget bottles of water, but it’s deep purple.

“Drink this, now,” she orders cutely. You uncap it, cock hanging as you let it all out, and take a sniff. It smells like a dark, wet basement. “Don’t smell it!” She giggled and grabbed you from behind, biting your shoulder. She aims your cock for you, giggling as she circles the pool of water at the bottom with your stream, fingers squeezing and massaging your sore shaft. “It’s a health potion. For whatever reason, it just refills guys almost instantly. And this one’s super strength!”

You laugh and smile as she bites your ear lobe, your stream finished, her hands starts pumping your slimy, mostly soft cock. You gulp, then take a deep breath and hold it. You tilt the bottle back and will it down your throat, ignoring the consistency. Some little solid chunks catch in your throat, making you choke. You clamp your lips shut and cough, trying not to spit any purple gunk out. You work the bits out with your tongue and bite into one, tasting some sort of chalky sweetness.

“Sprinkles?” you ask, gulping down the foul mixture. You clean your mouth with your tongue and force the watery potion back.

She just laughs, pressing her huge boobs into your back. “I thought it’d make the potion more fun!”

You look at the little bottle and swirl the last few drops around. You finish it off and chew on the rainbow sprinkles. “Pinkie, why would you put sprinkles in a drink-oooooh, oh woah…” You swallow again, the taste really not that bad, thanks in part to the sugary sprinkles. Your balls stop aching quite quickly, your sore dick feels just, well, wet, Pinkie’s hand still massaging and stroking it. She reaches around with her other hands and juggles your sack.

“Feel good?” she breathes sweetly in your ear.

You nod, breathing deeply.

“Good!” Pinkie said, turning to wash her hands. “Because there was like, three hits of awesome acid in that, too. You cool with that, right?”

“What?” you ask, nearly shouting. “I, fuck yeah! But, did we even talk about that? I can’t even remember.”

You sit on the seat and look at her curvy, busty, boobs…. You look up to her face as she shakes her hands dry and sits on your lap, her hands aiming your half stiff cock at her little pussy and- “Ah, fuck, yes. Did you take some too, Pinkie?” you ask, stroking her thighs as she rides you with slow motions.

She nods, giggling, pressing her nipples into your shoulders, leaning her head back. That mass of pink hair hangs behind her arched back as she rolls her wide hips up and down in slow motions. “I took it just as soon as the Cakes let me come here. Hasn’t kicked in yet!” She giggled and looked back down, smiling ear to ear. “I did some a few weeks ago with my gal pal Berry Punch. You’d like her! HUGE boobs, like, maybe even bigger than mine.” She suddenly gasped sharp and deep, her hips dropping hard, making you grunt. She was still wet and warm and tight as ever. “I bet they’re even bigger than Celestia’s!”

You laugh with her and grope those big boobs, rolling your hips as best you can under the thick girl. “I wonder if she’s here, in the crowd,” you think aloud, pinching those puffy nipples, making Pinkie squeak.

She laughs, again, as often as breathing it seemed. “Maybe! I’ll text her later. She might still be with her boyfriend, buuuuuuuuut, just imagine getting a double titjob! You’d need to send a TEAM in to find even YOUR cock, Axel!”

Pinkie stood suddenly and helped you up, the world spinning just a bit. Everything snaps back instantly, the vertigo sensation leaving as quickly as it came. “Come on, let’s do it on the bed again!” she said, diving onto the bed, bouncing until you followed suit.

Her face over the edge, you grab her thick thighs and spread them as wide as possible, she can easily do a perfect split. Her body isn’t fat, but it’s far from thin. She’s not nubile, but Pinkie is definitely pliable. She breathes, desire in her eyes as she looks up, bringing her ankles near her head. “Eighteen years of gymnastics and counting,” she bragged, spreading her puffy, reddened vulva.

You dive in without a second thought. She moans and lets go of her calves, one foot slipping between your leg, so that she’s straddling your thigh, sort of. She takes your hand and makes you grip her ass on the side that’s lifted, letting you sink even deeper. “Gooooowaah, so deeeeeeep!” she squeaked. “Oh goddess, yes! Do me, Axel, fill me up with your big cock!”

Her dirty talk isn’t diminished by her sweet giggles one iota. You bend over and give her what she wants as you roll your hips, lips touching. You kiss her tenderly as your body holds the head of your cock firmly against her cervix, her body gyrating with yours. You groan and hold her neck in your other hand, slipping your tongue deep into her mouth.

You tenderly, vigorously fuck her with little, fully deep thrusts, making the bus rock. The door up forward opens, but you just ignore it, the bedroom door was shut and, hell, it’s your damn van.

The bedroom door swings outward violently and shuts just as fast, faster than you can even look up.

“I need more,” a cute, high-pitched, maybe raspy voice says. It’s Dash, her tiny shirt has a couple of fresh cumstains. “I don’t know what you did Pinkie, and I don’t care, I fucking need more and no one back inside is putting out.” She swallows and goes on. “Twilight’s sucking her boyfriend’s spent cock, but he’s passed out. That weed was too much for him, I think.”

As she speaks, Dash undresses, Pinkie just giggles. “Come,” she says, shifting and pulling a pillow under her head. “Come sit on momma’s face, Dashie!”

“Can I get a facial?” she asks, red from her forehead to her collarbone as she straddles Pinkie’s face, facing you, begging you with her big magenta eyes. Dash takes your finger and sucks it deep, moaning. Her voice crescendos, eyes shutting, cheeks caving in suddenly as Pinkie presumably works her magic between those soft thighs. She’s such a petite girl, but you don’t doubt she could carry Pinkie for a mile hike with that incredible body.

There was a soft knock at the door, and it cracked open. A beautiful, barely clothed girl entered, blushing just as red, only her eyes were a little pink. “U-um, Dash? P-Pinkie?” her tiny voice was so nervous, her words cracked on every syllable. She seemed to be shaking.

Dash’s little body was thrown to the side as Pinkie sat up, wetness plastering hairs to her cheeks and neck. “Twi?! What are you doing here?”

She locked the door behind her. She took a deep breath and played with the hem of her pants. “I think it has to do with, um, being…”

“The body high and princess horniness?” Pinkie half asked, half stated. “Hmm… interesting. Well, foursome?” she offered, giggling, bucking her hips, reminding you and your cock you were still fucking. Dash was masturbating, thighs spread wide near Pinkie’s face.

“In a twin bed?” you ask, bucking her back, making those giant tits jiggle harder.

Pinkie shrugs, one eye closed as you go harder, making her squeak. Dash rubs her little clit hard as you touch her thigh, she’s panting, watching Twilight undress.

“Twi,” the athlete asks. “Do you, ya know, bat for both teams?”

“No,” she answered, grinning, standing nude, too. “But I think I can make some exceptions.” She came forward, laying her knee near Pinkie’s face, her hand cupping Rainbow’s sex. “Allow me.”

“Holy shit,” you grunt, Pinkie watching closely, too.

A lavender-colored flash blinds everyone briefly, but only Pinkie shrieks. You rub your eyes with wet hands and blink your vision back.

What you see is stranger than fiction. Sprouting from her hips is a massive, flaccid cock, but it’s not cut. It seems Dash is more surprised than anyone as she shrieks out in terror loud enough to pierce your eardrum like a railroad spike.

“Holy SHIT!” she rasps, her voice coarse as two grit sandpaper. “Twi, what the FUCK?!”

“It’s just a dick, silly! Look,” Pinkie says, grunting softly as she sits up, your hard dick popping out of her warm, wet pussy. She hoists it up and jerks it off in front of everyone. “See? Just a big ol’ funstick! Come on, Dashie, give yours a nice tug. Ooooh! Want me to?!”

“No-Twilight, take it back! I can’t be, ya know, floppin around in the cockpit!”

Pinkie chuckled harder than Twilight, then finally, the more reserved girl exploded in laughter. You barely hold in a snicker. “Don’t worry, it’ll go away after a few cumshots,” the princess casually stated.

Pinkie moaned and laid on her back, touching her little wet pussy. You take her thighs and spread them, sinking inside her again. “Oh, gosh, yes!” she sighed.

“I don’t- are you sure?” she asked, her new member starting to throb. Twilight sat on the edge of the bed and hoisted the limp dick gently in her hand. Her body came forward, her thick lips wrap around the thick cock, pushing the hood back. Her tongue snakes out and twirls over the first half of the shaft, her moans so thick and genuine. Twilight sinks to her knees on the bed, her back bent over as she shuffled close, curling into a compact ball. Dash threw her head back, leaning against the compressed wood paneling.

She sighed out, legs spreading, hands on Twilight’s head. You watch closely, not as close as Pinkie, eyes a few inches from the wet action. You give her a few harder thrusts, ready to cum soon. Pinkie sates her oral fixation on Twilight’s free hand, an occasional flash of magic fixing her lovely long hair as Dash musses it up. “Ah, shit yes,” Dash sighs out throatily. “Twilight, this… too good… I, I feel something,” she swallows and sits up on her knees, Twilight cups that thick cock between her big breasts, one hand working the uncut head.

“You like this?” she asked. “Tyler fucking goes nuts for my boobs.”

“They’re pretty fucking awesome!” Dash sighs, bucking her hips. Twilight giggles and squeezes her nice tits around that veiny girl cock.

Pinkie moaning sucking her own fingers, now. “Ah, I wanna see your new dick, Dashie!” she sighs.

With a little shrug, Twilight lets go. “Think you can take it down your throat?” Twilight asks warmly. “I modeled it after my boyfriend’s cock, he’s pretty big.”

“Ah! N-no way?” Pinkie giggled. “I thought he was circumcised-OH! Oh, Axel, so fucking deep!”

Twilight sat back and let Rainbow straddle her little slutty face. “Artistic liberties,” was all she proudly said. Twilight summoned another cock, this one made of obvious magic, and gave herself something to moan about. The color was of bright lavender, and seemed to sparkle and emit a dull light. Twilight sat on the far end, fucking herself, likely having a perfect view of that girl’s tight, perfect ass. Dash groaned harder than Pinkie as the busty girl gagged. You slow down and let her concentrate. Rainbow’s eyes roll back as Pinkie gags, her little neck bulging out, stuffed with thick, long cock. She grasps her own breasts, coughing up slimy spit over her chin and neck..

Dash bucks her hips, and you resume as well. Pinkie responds by sucking breath when she can, vocally protesting the fat dick in her throat as it rapidly penetrates and retreats. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” Dash breathes, leaning hard on Pinkie’s gigantic tits. You touch her lower lip and bring her eyes back down, those big magenta oceans could melt steel. You smile and kiss her suddenly. Rainbow reaches up and grips your face and moans in your mouth. She rolls her body forward, injecting herself fully into your girlfriend’s throat, that thick body below twitching and touching your waist as you spear her deep, too.

Dash breaks away, gasping for air, her hips pulling back to let Pinkie do the same. You resume thrusting fast, making her body jiggle. Pinkie reaches up and touches Dash’s strong legs. Her tan skin looks so soft and smooth. Pinkie’s smiling ear to ear, her face soaked in her own throat slime and Dash’s precum, all while little wet moans escape behind it all.

“Okay,” Twi says, standing tall on her knees, she dwarfs the tiny pilot. “It’s about time you paid for your little present,” Twi says, slapping something on Dash’s back, making her gasp and look behind herself. She went pale in the face.

Dash pants out, but spreads her knees some anyway, Pinkie smiling and laughing as that fat, throbbing dick drops to her face. You remember you’re fucking, too, and resume the thrusting, making Pinkie moan some more.

“Gentle,” Dash said, smirking over her shoulder, standing on all fours. “At first. Pinkie needs to take it slow, I think.”

“Bull!” she shouted, her mouth suddenly full of hot dick. Pinkie and Dash both groan, smiles on both faces. Dash looks up and takes your hand, licking your thumb and making you depress her tongue. You buck your hips hard as her eyes weld shut, a tense squeak escaping her throat as Twilight sinks her hips in.

Everyone is humping in circular motions, all moaning, all touching and groping and sucking and stroking, skin growing wet as a beast with four backs stirs the sheets. Dash cums first, in under a minute, bucking back to blow all over Pinkie’s big boobs, both Twilight and the twitchy Dash slump down to lick it up, Twilight still deep, deep inside with her magic strapon-thing. You pant and buck harder, Pinkie giggling, a proud smile on her face, both girls sucking her tits and sharing Dash’s hot load, six thick pumps all over that soft, pale skin.

You watch and keep up the pace, rapidly injecting yourself deep inside Pinkie’s soft, tight pussy. You go to the limit, your dick already throbbing painfully hard and pumping cum out. Twilight sits up rapidly and makes her mouth the perfect wide target. She beams as her face is streaked, the first hard shot arcing over her and splashing down her back, you see. Most of the rest shoots out into her mouth, this shot quite a bit diminished. The load is thick as honey, and voluminous as any you’ve ever shot, a whole ten fat ropes. Pinkie sits up as Dash lays still, sucking air. The two coherent girls messily kiss, one of Pinkie’s hands tugging on Dash’s still stiff cock. You rest against the wall and watch the two get messy. This shit was unreal, like a real life porno.

“Time,” Pinkie blurted, not spilling a drop as she fed Twilight some hot cum via a long, slow drop from her thick lips. It was hot enough to make your spent cock ache painfully. You process her word and glance at the clock. It was five til showtime. No rush, the set was gonna be good.

You rest and watch, Rainbow sliding next to you, her limp cock pulsing and throbbing back to rigidness. She sighs as Pinkie lets Twilight have all the cum and lays her head in Dash’s lap, making her dick disappear in her warm, wet mouth.

Twilight giggles and winks at you, showing off her mouthful. She opens wide and lets the creamy, spitty white sauce slide down the back of her throat with a loud gulp. She giggles again and sticks her “clean” tongue out, blushing, sliding back behind Pinkie’s lifted ass.

Pinkie squeaked as that magic dildo sank into her, but her groans deepened as Twi found a quick, deep rhythm. “Big enough?” she asked, to which Pinkie nodded vigorously, whimpering some, mumbling something like “fo fick!”.

You laugh and roll to your feet, your upper thighs a bit sore from slapping hips so much. You hobble to the bathroom and relax as Twilight and Dash fill the bus with their moans. You lean forward and just groan, thoroughly sore. You wash up your hands and crotch, dry off, and pick your clothes out of the mess. Dash is getting the ride of her life, Pinkie bouncing reverse cowgirl as Twilight lays near comatose next to them, trembling some. Pinkie just couldn’t quit.

You watch, wearing what you’ll be in on stage: a set of reflective striped baggy pants, a tight shirt, flashy shades, and your cock out. For now it’s fine. Twilight looks up, she’s laying closer to the door, and smiles. Her eyes linger on your dick as she rubs her reddened vulva gingerly, Dash arching her back and throwing her hips skyward, head lashing left and right against the sheets as Pinkie gets injected with another cumload.

“Ah, Dashie! So fucking deep,” she sighed, panting, looking over her shoulder before laying back over the smaller girl. She cradles her face, smiling, Dash panting over her shoulder, both sweating some. “Feel good?” she asked. Dash only smiled and nodded.

Pinkie squirmed some, but didn’t get up or shift too much. “I’ll be out in about ten minutes, Axel!” Pinkie perked, smiling to you. “Um, how many more loads does Dash have, Twilight?”

“Uh,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I would say two or three.”

“Make that five,” she giggled, wincing as her nipples were pinched hard by the indignant pilot girl.

“No rush, girls,” you say, reaching over the tall princess to squeeze one of Pinkie’s huge tits. Seriously, they had to be some insane cup size only seen on the internet. So perky, too. “Ah, fuck, Pinkie, how are you doing?”

She lifted her hips up and let Dash’s member fall out of her pussy, half limp and covered in white cum. The girl grunted as her cock throbbed to life. “I’m great,” she said, moaning, eyes crossing as her big ass fell into Dash’s hips. “I think the acid’s kicking in. It looks like Dash has a fat cock, and Twi’s sporting a glowing dick, too!.” She laughed and licked her friend’s cheek.

You smile and pant, your cock so spent and sore. “Here,” Twilight says, floating her little bag up to you. Where did that come from? you wonder. “Healing potions reload men in no time. If I know Pinkie, she’s gonna need more later tonight.”

You smile and take a look at the little purple bottle inside, the glass stopped with a rubber plug. You pull it out with a satisfying cliche “thoonk”, and give it a sniff. It’s rather neutral, but has a sweet odor. The label has a simple yellow cross with a pink heart in the center. You take a sip, then a gulp, the flavor almost non-existent. You wipe your lips and feel it slip into your stomach and settle. “You’ll be cumming huge loads in no time,” Twilight said with a wink. “I, um, my boyfriend and I use them pretty often when we have the time.” She was red in the face all over again.

“Total cumslut,” Pinkie giggles, gasping as she’s fingered roughly by the blushing princess. “Ah!”

“Not untrue,” she said lowly, standing at the side of the bed, slipping between Pinkie’s hips. “Wanna see if both our cocks will fit inside, Dash?” she asked, her tight, round butt pointing to you. She was pretty tall, almost as tall as you, but her hips were so wide and nice. You debate for a minute, but there was a shouting crowd outside. You realize you can hear because the door to the front has opened. You whip the bedroom door closed and your hard cock back into your pants, just in time.

Timponi was at the door. “Axel? You’re on!” she called out, then disappeared out. You jump a few times, throwing your head around, then run out, blood pumping still. Psy is by the concrete door way. He leads you back stage, stopping at the “green” room to let you in. You pop in to see Rarity eating AJ, both guys taking the metropolitain girl from behind.

You slip around them and grab a pipe, take one last drag of supergrass, then a pair of waters. The stage was just a door away. You give the manager type a thumbs up.

The crowd was murmuring. You make eye contact with a roadie, your good friend from this town, and smile. You give a wave and a deep, ominous bass just rumbles. So deep, near the edge of human hearing, and so loud. You pump your fist, ready to just run up and start jumping, start mixing, start playing!

The bass pulses like a big, lumbering heart, but quickens. It grows into a hummingbird’s beating wings, then, the pulses grow into their own pitch, low, but rising. The pitch ascends slowly into a perfect concert C, the electronic tone slowly accompanied by a recording of an orchestra tuning up. You take the stairs slowly one at a time as the cellos and violas and violins and basses and horns all warm up, spotlight on you.

The light’s heat was nothing new. What was, was the crowd. A literal ocean of people. Flesh, shoulder to shoulder, was visible in the late twilight. You breathe hard, your recently drained sack giving you a bit of confidence, but not enough. You just pant, chest rising and falling, looking over these people, these fans, these partiers. They’re chanting, singing, screaming!

You reach up and hit the spacebar of your computer on instinct, the C exploding into a nasty minor chord, the bass turned up past eleven. You bang your head, and the first real note drops. A rapid, complex melody sings forth, electronic in nature, an arpeggio mimicking the first hard chord.

The bass follows in six time, the intro leading into a beat with four that matches often enough. You throw your horns up, beaming to a screaming crowd. You bang your head and check the setlist, modding the sounds to come. The first song was always ad lib, nothing rehearsed, you do your best on the fly. The melody might be familiar, stolen, er, borrorwed from a long-dead composer. But the beat is yours. You use a tried and true polymeter, a treble four with bass six.

The crowd was nuts! So much movement in the strobes, the rainbow lights showed girls and guys grinding, dancing, jumping throwing each other, surfing, leaning, bumping, shoving, exploding! You roll your head and fuck with the mix, bring the bass down and the treble up for one fourth beat, dropping the bass back on them like a hammer.

This was it. You blasted hard, pumping out beats in quick succession, giving the newcomers something to limp about and the vets something to scream about. You jump and find a new sound to mix in, changing things up soon, building a beat to come, making the shotgun blast to the face change into more of a party than a punishment.

“WOOOOOO!!!” someone shouts as the lights strobe, illuminating the crowd. You see a blue and pink eyesore, bouncing, it’s Pinkie with her makeup redone! She’s too far to really see, but her face is either cum-soaked again or you’re seeing things.

The colorful mixboard moves with you, the jovial beat making people shout and jump, the major sounds uplifting. You relent, the volume easing, letting everyone catch their breath after five minutes of a real rave. You never talk at your shows, but you do use the text to speech.

“What’s up bitches?” a robot asks, making the crowd go wild as text mirrors onto the screens all around. You smile, a camera showing your face on one of the screens. “Damn, he’s sexy. I bet he has a big dick.” The robot voice repeats every word.

The music stops at last, the crowd exploding. “What up, Ponyville?” another shout. “Guess who’s back?”

“Back again!” a sound clip plays. “Guess who’s back,- DJ A, HERE TO MELT FACE AND FREEBASE!”

The crowd shouted and clapped, murmuring as you let things calm down for a bit. “How fuckin awesome were those fuckers on first? lol” The text makes a stupid noise, trying to read the text, but it sounds hilarious enough. The white screen looks like a grid, sprinkled with swaths of pink and blue and green. You pant out, smiling. Acid took a few hours to kick in, right? This was just the LCD screen. Or something. Shit, weed did this sort of thing, didn’t it?

You smile and bob your head. “Let’s get down to business.”

You play a simple melody on the two-scale keyboard “bum bum bummmmm bu-bummmm!”

You play another melody, a weedly little tone that rises and falls on a mostly major scale. A tap of a button repeats it in perfect time as you play another, like a canon, a minor haunting the first, which also repeats with the same button press. You bump the bass in a rhythm and make that repeat, too, building a weird, hard little song. You play a track that goes with it that only the oldest, most hardcore fans would recognize.

The bass is booming and fast, super dancy. You smile and move with the music, the lights a sight to behold. Rainbow flashes streak up and down from the light bars overhead. Not bad for a first showing. You concentrate some and look to the laptop and cue up the new song. About time to actually let the music you’ve written play instead of just making crap up on the fly, as fun as that is.

You make the beat grow and grow, higher and harder, until a steep cliff edge comes- and the new song crashes through, like falling into the ground from a butte. You headbang some, throwing up your horns, the crowd going wild as lights strobe with the music. You move to the side and fuck with the controls for the lights, leaving most on auto synched with the signals also sent to the monitors and speakers. You tap the biggest bank on the off beats, which are silent, and watch Pinkie bounce around, illuminated in the flashes in the front row.

Toying with the lights, making them shine off an on, sweeping with random colors, it passes the song, which was an incredible hit. The slow part was exactly what Timponi said it’d be: a pit stop. The next song was the single everyone knew, so you’d get a chance to catch your own breath. This wasn’t really too hard, but god, it was exhausting sometimes. Today was one of those times, likely because you had been doing plenty of sweating, your body recovering.

You take a step back and just bob your head, looking over the crowd. The lights made flesh sort of swim together like a kaleidoscope. Maybe the acid’s kicking in. You think back, realizing with a smirk you’ve never done it before. Shrooms a few times, your light body weight in weed, too much booze, a pill here and there. This is incredible! The colors and sounds are so fluid, but the beat is still driving, solid as concrete, maybe not fully set. You nod and take a deep, deep breath, holding it in, smelling sweat and heat and the tinge of smoke that wafted up from the crowd. You smile and breathe out, the song dropping out to nothing but a single guitar being plucked staccato, the drunken recording of yourself in a hotel bathroom years ago. Who would have thought a random melody you don’t remember playing would earn you your gold record?

You laugh as the crowd screams, they’re just going nuts! You step around your booth and stand on the edge of the stage, girls reaching up to touch your toes and ankles, Pinkie screaming at your feet. You smile and hold you arms out, making the crowd erupt again. You feel the bass pulse, a dull thud, a hammer dropped in dirt is what you remember thinking of mixing this song up.

As the seventeenth beat falls, you fall forward, landing in an upstretched puddle of hands, your body hitting the crowd as a sweeping melody screeches out, electronic and green. You beam and roll onto your back, surfing with a few others, a hand pushing up on your ass. It’s Pinkie’s you see when you look down, getting yourself ferried around in a circle back toward the stage. You reach out as you get to the security railing and pull Pinkie with you, a middle aged lunch lady looking woman letting her up with you. You share your shades with her as you give the crowd two thumbs up. Pinkie screams with joy at you and skips alongside as you walk back to the booth to scratch.

She lays a wet kiss on your lips, making the crowd go wild with a sophomoric “oooooooh!” Her lips taste super sweet, like the major chords bouncing around in your head. You reach out, pink unicorns dancing in your eyes. They looked so real!

“I’m tripping so good right now!” she shouted in your ear. You smile at her and nod vigorously, sworn to an unsworn vow of silence on stage. It was just a thing you supposed you did.

You pull open the text to speech thing on the monitor, letting the crowd see. “Pinkie’s the craziest party girl in Ponyville!” You laugh as the robot reads what you wrote in a little break of the music, Pinkie responds with shaking her head back and forth, tongue out. She was a bit of a celebrity, you knew, so hopefully the crowd appreciated that. Some seemed to.

You show her the controls and she picks up without a word, mixing in bass bumps and everything. She had done this before. The sliders and buttons looked like pink chocolate, if that was possible. You realize the spotlight was now neon hot pink, much like Pinkie’s inner self. You smile and laugh with her, looking at her impossible body. Huge tits, little waist, wide hips, round ass, sexy lips, bouncy hair, her smile infectious.

She makes the set just fly by, and the crowd is never still. You let her do things, but you run the show like you normally do. You are forced to kiss her once or twice, tasting the vodka on her tongue. You smile and suck on her lip during the finale, a huge, hard, trance that lasted nearly a minute, strobes flashing rapidly at full intensity, everything super bright pink, a deafening major chord squashing the hill near eleven at night.

You come up for air, your vision cut off as every light goes out, save your laptop. Fireworks blew off behind the hill, bright pink and blue and yellow, of course. It’s always pink. The flowers in the sky bloom, followed by their bang. In the darkness and sore cries, you reach over and grip Pinkie’s big, thick ass, shoving your tongue down her throat. She whined, gripping the collar of your shirt, melting. She was so hot, smelling of sweat, her body impossibly warm, her fresh breath was addicting. You groan in her lips, her huge tits pushing into your torso as you lean back.

Quickly, you lean over and type into the laptop, hoping the speakers still were up. You really regret not planning out this set. “Peace out, bitches.”

The robot spoke out well, making Pinkie chortle. “Come on! What do you wanna do?!” she shouted under the shouting in the semidarkness.

You kiss her briefly one more time. “Piss break, then the encore, duh,” you say, leading her to the green room. Psy was hanging out, a beer in his hand.

“Killed it!” he said, holding the door open for you. “No encore?” he asked.

“Five minutes,” you say, slamming the door shut, beelining over a sleeping girl to the bathroom. You pull your zipper down at supersonic speeds, whipping your warm, stiff dick out, Pinkie appearing to hold it again. As usual, your cock is rigid as steel and throbbing from the set. You’re not sure how you didn’t cum. Definitely had something to do with all the sex beforehand. You groan out deeply as you let it all go, a clear stream hitting the water with force. “Gaaaaaah, I needed to race like a piss horse.”

Pinkie laughed at that, her warm, slightly wet hand milking out the last drops after the stream slowed to a drip. She washed her hands and sat down on the toilet seat lid, pulling her top down. You groan, her boobs bare and glowing, shimmering like the ocean at sunset. You rub your eyes, but they’re really glowing, emitting a holy beacon. You let her lean in and lick the head, her chin obscuring the light just a bit.

You blink as she bobs her head, moaning, taking a glance from the tiny bathroom to the girl on the floor by the sofa. It wasn’t AJ or her friend, Rainy something. She had pink panties under her skirt, you could see, and long boots, sexy legs, too. Pinkie, however, was throating you, gagging and everything. “Gah, fuck! Pinkie, I need to rail you right fucking now!”

She spits out rigid member out and leans up, her shining boobs wrapping around your cock. The head disappears into her cleavage. She dips her shoulders down, the head coming free as the underside slid against her hot skin. It was unbearable! You smile, the tip glowing, now, too, realizing that the shininess was glitter. Maybe? You laugh and buck your hips, Pinkie pushing her huge boobs together and rocking herself up and down, stroking you with her wet skin. She pants and looks up, smiling, begging with that dense, slutty makeup and hungry look.

“You’re balls are so pent up after Twi’s second potion, aren’t they?” she asked, her sweet little voice deceivingly dark. She coaxes you, pursing her lips, working mostly the sensitive underside and head, working to milk you. You know she doesn’t want you to groan and bang on the walls in pleasure, she wants you to fire cum on her face.

The army of zombies outside is shouting, something, “peepee?” You laugh and moan out, panting, your cock twitching. The pressure builds as the noise grows just a little more articulate.

“Pinkie?” you moan, looking to her vivid, vibrant, glowing blue eyes in the dingy little cement room. “They’re rooting for you baby. They want you to get me off, come on, don’t let them all down. Work those huge tits, Pinkie, you’re so fucking hot.” She was blushing, her long tongue out of her mouth, dripping saliva onto your head every few thrusts. “Come on, push tighter, milk that staff like you want your cum.”

She whined, smiling a watery smile, wrapping her thick blue lips around the head. She moaned, bobbing her head and chest, fucking your big cock with her fat tits, making you throw your head back. So close, you’ve been holding out, but this was far too much. “Gah! YES!” You shout out and push her head back, watching the hot white spill onto her juicy tongue. Sixteen, it seemed impossible, but sixteen huge hard ropes pumped out over her little face. She flinched after the first few, but took her facial with pride. All but one rope hit her tongue. “Fuck yes, you look SO fucking hot!”

She beams, sitting up, swallowing aloud. The crowd cheered as you help her to her feet, pulling her shirt up, spit stains all over her cleavage. You force yourself to piss in the john one last time, letting out only a little. You wash up quick after her as Pinkie rests, panting, moaning, rubbing herself under her little skirt. “We’re gonna stay up all night at my place, smoke weed, you’re going to take a dozen potions and fuck me raw and facialize me a hundred times, okay baby?” she blurted in your ear, hugging her hot body to yours.

You nod and kiss her cheek, getting yourself covered in glitter. “Sounds like a plan, Pinkie,” you reply, pinching her butt. You tuck your half spent dick back into your pants, making sure you were assembled. You take a step to the door, stopping when Pinkie bends over in front of you, analyzing the comatose girl. “Trixie?”

The blue-haired woman stirs, looking like she had too much to drink. “You okay?” you ask, putting a finger under her nose to see if she was breathing. She swats your hand away and pulls herself onto her elbows, then moans and falls back down.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, groaning deep. “Vod-kuuuuugh.” Pinkie pouts, then brings over a bucket. She fishes a little black capsule from a bag in her skirt pocket, she had skirt pockets.

“Charcoal pill, soaks the booze right up in an hour,” she said, patting Trixie on the head. What a name. How did she get in here?

You think about that for half a second as you’re lead by the hand to the stage again, head still reeling from the orgasm. The shouts are louder out here, despite the several minutes of time. Pinkie hops out first, hands up, huge tits jiggling on the jumbotron. The crowd went wild. You laugh and follow, flashing horns in either hand, and a second wave came over the crowd. You step behind Pinkie at the booth and select your biggest party hit, then, after boosting the bass slider, you hit play.

The noise was like a bomb. You bang your head and pretend to touch something as Pinkie dances next to you, hips bumping in the quick, dancey time, a super catchy melody on the electronic line. You just let it go, dancing with her, jumping up and down and banging your head.

Pinkie’s top just magically stayed on, it looked impossible, but her H cups never spilled out, despite how easy it was just a few minutes ago. You leave her at the conn as you dive one more time into the sea of sweaty people, surfing with a great big smile on your face. The rush was intense, the awkward feeling of hands all over your back isn’t hard to ignore as you look around at all the people around you. They’re as varied as an after school special. Some tall, some short, some guys, some girls, some tough to tell the difference, and skin tones from every shade. You ride the human wave back towards the stage, falling once.

You hop to your feet and dance with the crowd, the camera on Pinkie mixing on stage, trippy visuals on all the other screens showing art of the same deco theme as the album cover. She takes the melody and scratches it into something new, something wild and fun. You dance with strangers for a shortwhile, just enjoying the song. It was a desperate one, you remember, writing in the passenger seat of a salvaged little beater car, gas station noodles in your belly and dirt weed in your blunts, back then.

Someone smacks your ass, it’s Rainbow! You smile and grab her hand, she brings herself in for a close hug. You can smell your soap on her, she must have cleaned up. Even point blank, it’s too loud to talk, so you smile and dance with her and Twilight, her boyfriend there, too. She’s beaming as her feet sort of, kinda, well, they’re moving. Calling this dancing would be like calling a demolition derby a grand prix.

You get yanked on by the arm and land lips-first into a girl, it’s AJ, her blonde hair all hanging in your face. You grab her butt, then just as soon as you taste her tongue in your mouth, a girl you’ve never met yanks you away to lick the roof of her mouth, whiskey strong enough on her breath to make you gag. Her ass is super sized, so are her tits, her mauve hair a mess. She and AJ lift you up and nearly toss you onto the stage, a few souls help ferry your body back to the fence. The security people step aside and you jump up, rolling onto the stage.

You hold up your arms, pointer and ring fingers extended on both hands.

The music ends, and the computer voice speaks again: “PONYVILLE IS THE PARTY CAPITAL OF EQUESTRIA!” You take a deep breath before the shouts sing too loud.

“THANK YOU PONYVILLE!” It’s the first words, you think, you’ve ever uttered yourself on stage.

Everyone is screaming, as loud as they can. You smile as one spotlight highlights you, beaming, you don’t know where your glasses are. The white light glows pink, like everyone’s clothes, you see them jump and shake and shout wearily.

Everyone quiets slowly. The coliseum's parking lights come on and some radio rock starts playing. You find a hand on your chest, it’s Pinkie, grinning wide at you. She takes your hand and guides you out of your stupor back through the alleyways and secret tunnels. You laugh at the polo shirt guy, he’s changed into a pink set of pants and drinking pink beer.

Pinkie’s little skirt hugs her big, round ass tight, she was so juicy and thick. You groan as your cock stirs again in your pants, finding Pinkie’s body suddenly snug against yours as she stops suddenly. You reach around and cup her tummy, looking at what she is. Outside is the bus, just as before, the night sky a dull blueish pink, and the halogen lights blaring orange-pink as well.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Pinkie looks up, craning her neck, her hair in both your faces. She uses one hand to pull her awry bangs out of the way. “We should get a cab!” she said, smiling. “I got a lift here, and I don’t know if any of our girls are good to drive. Definitely not me or RD, and I smoked with AJ and Twilight just before your set.”

You kiss her forehead and nod. “Yeah! We should-”

“Need a lift?” polo shirt guy said from behind. You turn and see him, phone in hand. “Cab is waiting outside. How about hotel?”

Pinkie gasped. “No one plans parties better than me!” She giggled and winked at him, making you unreasonably jealous. “Thanks, Psy! You’re the best concert manager guy, ever!”

“It’s in the contract! See you Monday, Pinkie!”

“If I don’t get to go, tell your daughter happy birthday for me, won’tcha?” Pinkie giggled and led you out the back, waving goodbye.

“Thanks, dude, see ya!” You wave, too, feeling so happy. Everything was just so great, now.

The cab driver was a good friend of Pinkie’s too. The car was yellowish pink, but the dice were flamingo. You kiss Pinkie the second she tells him where to go. Your hands lift her skirt and touch her hot thigh, it lifts over your hip. She flexes her leg and makes your thigh touch her little pussy, you can feel how hot she is.

Just as your hand moved over her nipple and her tongue into your mouth, the car stops. “We’re here,” he says. “I’ll charge ya Tuesday when I pick up my cannolis,” he said.

“Sure can do, mister Trotter, sir!” She bounced out of the cab, her porchlight pink. You fish out a twenty and drop it in the front seat.

“Not a cleanup fee, I swear,” is all you say, joining Pinkie in the race inside.

She wins, leading you through the residential back of Sugarcube Corner. You see the more open foyer area with the high ceiling, just about the size of half a basketball court. That's where you played here, last time.

You’re lead away through some dark rooms and doors, the shadows a soft pink. Pinkie stops on the stairs suddenly, butt out, catching your face. She laughs and sits her weight back before bouncing to skip up the stairs. “Gotcha!”

You laugh the rest of the way up to her bedroom, smiling, feeling her warmth linger on your face. Down the hall, a light shines from under a door, and you think you can hear a mature woman moaning and screaming, a headboard banging.

You can see her room closer, though. It’s bathed in a pink light, she must have gotten a special bulb. She clicks on the bedside lamp. It’s pink. Everything was pink. You close the pink door behind you and look around the room. She had a king sized bed, naturally, more room to roll around in. The large bedroom was semi-ovular, with square corners where her bed was. The high ceiling was new, wasn’t it? Probably not. You swear you were here, last time, maybe she rearranged things. The walls are covered in boy band or metal group posters, some crayon pictures, some crayon on the paint itself. You smile and just drink in the candy-themes, the plush pinkness that was her room.

Pinkie was bent over, wow, what a view… She was humming in the quiet, and you realize that all you can hear is your own heartbeat, her humming, and a deep ringing from your inner ear. You smile in the post show bliss that always was, fingers shaking as you hold up your hands.

“Ah-ha!” Pinkie says, pulling out a briefcase from under her bed. “My good girlfriend Zecora made these! Super potent male potency potions! Not that you need them.” She lifted the old case onto the bed as you held her from behind, hands holding her jugs. “One dozen. Made to refill and rejuvenate, and I helped make them palatable. Before, they tasted like rotten lawn trimmings and metal shavings. Now, they’re just lawn trimming flavored!” She giggled and sighed, biting her lip as you groped her firmly. “Ah, jk, they taste like, sorta, watery, nothing too strong. Or so she said.”

“No sprinkles?” you tease, a dryness manifesting itself in your throat. Finally, she unclasped the case, your lips sucking at he tender neck. The bottles in the old black case were shaped like the cliche, orby bottoms with a straight stem, each corked with an actual cork, volume something like one cup each. “Warning,” she read aloud on the label of one. “Drink a half gallon of water between potions, do not have lazy notions. Drink no more than two portions an hour, or your groin will feel no power. If erection lasts longer than a quarter day, have another roll in the hay. Huh. This might actually be a turn on if the rhymes weren’t so forced.”

You laugh and take one, swirling the pink liquid around. “Does this look pink to you?” you ask, setting it down in the case, then hopping up onto her huge bed.

Pinkie giggles and shakes her head. “Everything’s kinda purply for me. Good to know you’re tripping, too. I feel like the music’s still playing! Ah, Axel, I wanna ride you to the beat!”

She hopped onto her bed and kicked her little sneakers off, then her socks. You get between her legs and spread them extra wide, thighs making a straight line, knee to knee. You kiss her cleavage and inhale her body, so sweet and warm, a little sweaty. You kiss down and stroke her thighs, squeezing her flesh, finding the lips of skin there super wet and hot, even on the outside.

You shimmy out of your pants and groan, taking your sore cock out and teasing her clit. “God, how many times have you made me jizz today?”

Pinkie sits up and puts a hand on your collar, making you stop as she stares up with those pink-blue eyes. “Drink one, first,” she said, her other hand lifting a potion up.

You take the cold glass in hand and swirl the mixture around, your mouth trying to water. “Ah, I’m sorta thirsty, too. Maybe we should get something to drink, maybe put some music on.”

She smiled brightly and closed her legs, slipping to the floor, a whole head shorter than you. “Speakers by the bed, bluetooth, you can figure it out. I’ll break out the sleepover supplies!”

How was that not surprising? You can hear a faint panting, muffled cries of “yes! On my face!”. Hopefully they sent the babies away. You open your phone to the wireless settings and figure the sync out easily, putting on something groovy and bassy, not too loud; the kids were down the hall, maybe. A short eruption of sound emanates from all around you. A quick look shows that the stuffed animals around the place conceal speakers. They look nice, and offer no lack of bass.

You turn and lean towards the bed, starting to squat down to hop up, when Pinkie appears in full pink pajamas. Sweats and a new top, the girl came in carrying two great big pink bags. “Here!” she said, laying things out, sitting down criss-cross applesauce. “Water bottles, vodka, powdered“ pink ”lemonade packs, chocolate, salty snacks, rubbers, movies, personal fingertip vibes, regular dildos, animal dildos, dragon dildos, butt plugs, anal beads, marshmallows, graham crackers, even though I don’t have a fireplace, movies, lube, lotion, brushes, extra PJ’s, whipped cream, sleep masks, ear plugs, nail polish, facial mask, files, toe spacers, lady products, a little E, a little hash oil, a little pipe, rolling papers, and most importantly, my favorite little plushie pony!” She held the little pink horse up for you to inspect and surely approve. It was painfully cute, about a foot tall. She let you hold it.

You blink, shake your head, and look at the spread. You bob your head to the beat and hook a thumb in your underwear, kicking your shoes and baggy pants off. “Ever prepared,” you comment, taking a sniff of the potion. You fix the cork and set the briefcase back on the floor, sitting with her. “I left my grass back at the amphitheater. You wanna drink some water and smoke a little of that oil?”

She giggled. “How about we have some chocolate instead?” she said, unwrapping a little piece segregated from the other package. This one was in foil, plain, unlabeled, unlike the storebought wrapper on the other. “I made it yesterday! It’s super good! Like, it’s not too rich, a little darker. The bitter cocoa kinda offsets the flavor of the weed butter!”

“Well, that takes a second to kick in,” you ponder, accepting the offered piece and popping it right in your mouth. She was right, this was super dark. But the hard flavor was offset by excessive amounts of butter. You let it melt and moan as your groin is gently massaged with her lips, through your boxers. “But I guess we have all night.”

She giggled. “Wash it down with the potion. I wanna watch the effects.” She cracked open a large water bottle as you uncorked the potion. You put the glass to your lips and look skyward, not thinking too much about the flavor as you slog it down. The aftertaste was neutral, but a bit sour. Then, an earthy, awful sensation grew in your throat, followed by a punch of extreme spice. “Ah! Oh, god, gimme that water!”

You steal it from Pinkie’s hand and gulp down big mouthfuls, feeling instantly relieved. You take a dozen more, the water incredibly delicious to your dry throat.

“Ah!” you let the busty, half naked girl have her half-empty water back and take your shirt off, then your boxers, making a little pile near the foot of the bed. “Come on up, Pinks,” you say, patting the bed, then hop on up. Your dick is throbbing and leaking before your butt hits the cool sheets.

“Wow!” she says, chewing four chocolate pieces. She sips some water and climbs on up expertly, her face near your groin. “That works fast!”

“Or you’re just that sexy,” you purr, rubbing your cock on her eager face. Kneeling over her, Pinkie’s eyes meet yours, she’s laying her chest on the bed. Hot precum dribbles out the head as that spent ache fades. You pant and grip her hair, a need growing in your core like your throat had demanded water. You lean your hips back and pinch Pinkie’s teasing tongue, making her open wide. You groan, slowly, shakily returning your hips forward, throbbing cock pushing into her big, pink and blue lips. You shift your knees wider and grip her face. She grips your thighs, stroking as you gently rock back and forth, getting your tool nice and wet. She warms you up quickly, moaning, bobbing her head now, incentive for you to speed up and increase the force.

“Ah!” You lean in, pushing her down, Pinkie’s happy eyes staring to you as you slowly lean in, filling her throat. She swallows, and your hand reaching down to wrap around her neck confirms she was deepthroating. You feel her throat on your head, a new, tighter sensation, like trying to fit a tractor trailer across a footbridge.

You pant out and lean back suddenly, letting her breath and spit all over your tool. “Hg-gak!” she gagged, lurching a little. Pinkie rolled onto her ass, and laid back, clutching a pillow behind her head. “So good! I want you in my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her puffy pussy lips looked so pink.

You smile and spread them, making her whimper, you thumb her clit and let her drape her ankles over your opposite shoulders, crossing her long, thick legs. You aim your cock to slide over her lips, teasingly, making her melt. She sucked three fingers deep into her mouth and made herself gag, drawing up tons of messy saliva. “Gah, you bring out the sluttiest part of me. Come on, fuck my little pussy!” She giggled and found a floppy pink dildo of a non-human shape, sucking it deep as she closed her eyes. You stare at that bulge in her throat, listening to her gag and giggle.

She pushes about a foot and a half of rubber down her gullet as you finally sink your head into her wet, tight lips, making her moan. An explosion of color pulses from her cute face, pinks and yellows and purples and blues, all soft and happy, like the music. You gently roll your hips back and forth in a fast rhythm, making her bounce. Pinkie’s back is arched high, her huge, nude tits hanging by either side of her chest, her massive breasts full of life. You reach down around her thick thighs as she pulls her toy free, slapping the messy tool on her face, makeup strewn everywhere. Lipstick and mascara on her cheeks just looked so great.

“You like the slutty look, don’t you?” she teased, rolling her hips knowingly. “Mmmm, come on, fuck my throat,” she sang, her cute little chirpy voice so vibrant and shiny. You smile and enjoy the waves and shapes of colors splashing from her thick blue lips.

She slips your four fingers into her mouth, you touch her throat, making her eyes flutter as you look down at her. She arches her back again and pulls on your wrist but you really can’t get any deeper. Her esophagus feels so hot and wet, the texture so weird. You feel your dick just pulsing as it rests all the way inside. You pull out and wipe your wet fingers on her other cheek, the girl gagging again and beaming, licking the silicone head.

You steal it and resume rocking your hips, your slimy hand slipping the toy down her whore throat. She clutches her pink curly mass and whines. No one was cuter. You make her gargle and gag as you really ram her pussy, till she grabs your wrist and pulls you free. She lurches and spits out excessive throat slime.

“Gah, fuck, I’m close-”

“My tits!” she slobbered. She spat all over her cleavage, so wet and pink. “It’s all wet, fuck my titties!” she giggled, spreading her thighs, releasing you from her spellbindingly tight pussy.

You smile and suck a deep breath, pulling out and straddling her hourglass figure. You groan as those huge, juicy, slippery boobs wrap around your throbbing, leaking dick, also soaking wet. You rock your hips and fuck her breasts quickly, making her jiggle and giggle. “Oh, yes!” she sighs. “Ooooh, yeah, this is like, the hottest fucking thing!”

You grin and give her more to smile about, holding her mouth open with a thumb on her tongue. “You want that magic cumshot?”

She nodded, whimpering.

“Need my hot, slimy cum all over that cute face?”

Again, almost violently, moaning, praying for it.

The pressure was there, as those slick hands gripped her fat tits so hard, that hot flesh spilled between her fingers, engulfing you easily. She was so incredibly hot and wet, you find yourself shivering instead of humping quickly. You lean down and stick two thumbs in her full lips, holding that loud mouth open wide. Her tongue falls out naturally.

Her screams of pleasure are almost as loud as your grunts of dominance. Hot sperm pumps out, but it’s not the natural watery white. It’s thick, like heavy mucus, landing forcefully in ropes thicker than a pencil on her face. She shrieks as thick, gooey semen splatters all over her tongue, face, nose, cheek, bangs, neck, cleavage, and your thumbs. Ten, eleven, and a last, lazy twelfth rope pump out with incredible pleasure, making you tremble and slump down, panting.

“W-woauh,” Pinkie moaned. “Waf wah awawing!” You smile and let go of her face, the flesh of her cheeks had white marks where your hands were. You swallow and look at the devastation. She breathed deep and rapidly, her huge chest heaving, covered, not splattered, with hot cum.

“Axel,” she breathes, smiling, holding onto your knees. “That… so hot…”

You can’t do much more than breathe and stare. Your vision is extra neon pink at the edges, and you slump to lay at her side, your throat bone dry. You look at the girl tasting your pink cum, savoring it with her tongue and thick lips, smiling weakly, her big tits looked so shiny in the mild light. You reach over and cup one on the underside, trying to stay somewhat clean.

You swallow again, wincing in pain, as your throat is steel wool. You slowly sit up and stroke your spent, fully soft cock, amazed again at the sheer volume. “Pih-” you croak. “Water,” you whisper aloud, hopping to your wobbly feet, meandering to the bathroom. You clutch the sink and rinse your hands, then dip your lips under the tap of the pink sink. You gulp down the most deliciously refreshing room temperature water you’ve ever had the blessing of savoring. After a quick leak, you find Pinkie sitting in bed.

“Figured you’d need to drink some more water,” she said, smiling, still soaked in layers of hot cum. “How do you feel?”

“Fucking amazing, Pinkie,” you say, laying at her side again. She cuddles close, entering the role of little spoon. She mops more slimy cum up onto her fingers and licks them clean as you toss her long, curly hair around out of your face. “When can I drink the next potion?” you ask, racking your brain to remember. It had been an eventful night.

She stirred, looking up, her eyes a little glued shut. “Mmm, an hour? I forget,” she stretched, lifting her arms high above her head, turning to rest her sticky face in your chest. “I’m sore and sleepy,” she complained, but you don’t mind. How could you? Those juicy boobs are against your side, her sloppy sleepy face is too adorable.

“You done for now?” you ask, stroking her hair.

She moves her head side to side, getting your whole chest messy. “Just, pause for a sec. Your dick is like, the perfect size, not too big, definitely not too small. But I still get a little sore when your ram it deep inside me, ah, I’m getting myself horny again!”

You laugh with her as she winces, stroking her outer lips. You look down her pink body and see your dick resting, looking like a breakfast sausage. It’s neither soft nor hard, it lays plump on your thigh. Pinkie massages your sore balls, and you begin to understand her situation. Marathon sex was more than a cardio workout. You flex your thighs, ass, abs, chest, arms, they’re all aching.

After about thirty minutes of sweaty cuddling in the pinkness, Pinkie hops up and holds her head in her hand. “Ah, sat up too fast. Come on, let’s get some water and rinse off.”

You follow into the cute little blue-pink bathroom and accept the glass of water. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asks, sitting on the toilet. “Or are you into this sort of thing? Not judging.”

You let her giggle and go, really none to turned off by a little call of nature. “Not at all, to both questions,” you reply, filling your third glass. “You don’t mind me using the toilet, too?”

“Not at all,” she repeats. Pinkie gets up and washes her hands, that milky skin so soft and so tempting. You switch places and remain standing, letting her watch the pink stream flow from your limp cock. Before a second passes, though, her wet hand finds your penis and holds it, aiming for you. She giggles and circles the pink water, growing darker, stroking your side as she hugs you. “Is it weird that this is kinda hot?” she asks candidly. You decline to answer, simply, cupping her butt, giving her a hard squeeze.

You let her shake out the last drops, and she rinses her hands again.

“Bath or shower sex?” she asks simply, turning the hot tap to full blast and sitting on the edge. “Cuz, I was feeling super dirty after that concert. Maybe we should shower, then once we’re clean, we can soak in the tub!”

“Sure,” you reply, looking back to her bed. “Wanna grab some bath toys?” you ask, smirking. “Ya know, maybe another potion, or some beers, or-”

“Dildos!” She laughed at her own exclamation, you find yourself laughing too. “Oh, or maybe a butt plug. Mmm, I have a vibrating one. Oooh, I’m so doing that. Mind the boat!”

With that she skipped past, literally, slapping your butt on the way. You watch her flesh jiggle and sit on the edge of the tub, your cock stirring again. You start the hot tap and plug the drain. She bent over, wiggling her butt, and fished around in a drawer near her bed. She casually tossed a rainbow of pink dildos onto her bed and sorted them. You smile back as she walks towards you, arms full.

“This is for you,” she said, offering the second fertility potion. You take it as she holds the cork. With a deep breath, you down it quickly and exhale, mouth wide, grimacing. “And I’ve got this for me!” she said, holding up a purple-pink toy with a wide base, a narrow neck, and a mean looking bulb. The cone tip was contoured convexly for easy entry. “Should have fresh batteries. Oh, and they’re all watertight, I don’t fuck around when it comes to sex toys.”

“Isn’t that the idea?”

She explodes into laughter, falling into your arms. You kiss her deep, making her moan as she sucks on your tongue. Pinkie breaks away and sits in the hot water, wincing. “Ah! That’s a bit hot,” she squatted and adjusted the temp. You step in and splash the ankle deep water around the old, spacious tub. The porcelain bucket was on four little feet of brass, with a shower curtain hanging down from a fashioned rod, as if an afterthought.

You hold Pinkie in your lap as she slurps on her clean little toy, dropping three others into the tub, only one was shaped “normal”.. You kiss and suck on her little neck, playing with her big titties, splashing pink water over her and rinsing away the cum and grime. She moans and stops your invading hand as you reach south, pouting. “I’m horny but sore,” she sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. “Mmm, but there’s always the back door, if you’re really horny.”

She giggles and turns, grabbing some pink, perhaps actually pink, bottle of soap from the ledge. She lathers up your chest with the gel and massages it in, rubbing your shoulders, arms, even laughing with you as she gets the pits. Pinkie splashes around your hips and waist, then finally, lathers up your unsubmerged cockhead as it defiantly stands in the rising hot water. You smile and relax as her hands go under to cup and clean your balls. She spends a great deal of time, nearly flooding her room when the water fills up surprisingly fast. She laughs and turns it off, her smile complete.

“Oh, think those brownies are kicking in,” she giggles, smiling wide. “Mmm, my body is all tingly, oh! Ooooh, put it in me… gently!” She hops into your lap and gingerly lowers her hips. “Come on, nice, ah!” she squeaks as she sat on it, sinking down slowly all the way. You kiss her lips and pull on her ass, making her come up, then let her fall down again. Slowly, you slip your tongue in your mouth and fuck her, trying not to splash too much. It’s a futile effort and you end up getting water all over the floor. Pinkie didn’t care, the tiled green-pink floor was getting soaked like her pussy.

You bite her neck and grab the soap, lathering up her back. You clean her arms and shoulders and spend about five minutes molesting her giant, perky, tits. The big, juicy flesh mounds are just too good. You hold them up and feel her body below. She’s surprisingly muscular, surely from all the activity she enjoys.

As you wash her naughty parts, she squeaks and makes your fingers sink between her cheeks. “Gotta get clean everywhere,” she said, breathing hard over your forehead. You gently, firmly rub her spread lips, but of course you know where she’s leading you. With plenty of soap, you freshen up her little back door, teasing her with a finger. She grunts softly and sits tall.

“Come on, I’m getting pruny,” she moans in your ear. “Let’s get dry and you can give me a nice glass of cum.” She seemed serious, for once. You kick the drain plug out with your heel and help her up from below. You dry off with a big fluffy pink towel, helping Pinkie do the same.

Squeaky clean, Pinkie reached into the tub where she had dropped her toys and shook the moisture off. “You’d be surprised. Water is actually pretty terrible lube. Skin is sorta opposite rubber. Not too frictiony when dry, but super frictiony when wet. Except with lube, of course, but you knew that.” She giggled and stepped back to the bed, kneeling on her little sprawled out sleepover kit. She bent at the hips and found her lube. You kneel behind her and know exactly what she wants. You grab her big butt and take the toy with the other hand. She passes the lube next, and with both hands you hold the items. Slowly, you drizzle some clean jelly onto her asshole, making her squeak cutely. You rub it in, making her bend over further and moan out. You prod her little clean pink door with a finger and it, after a little force, pops in past the knuckle.

The girl groaned deep, shivering, her little pucker squeezing tight. You pop in and out, excruciatingly slowly. “Ah, that’s it, we got alllll night,” she sighed, laying her face on the sheet, messing up her neat arrangements. You pull on her muscle some, making her anus spread some. You find two fingers are within possibility, and once she relaxes, three. Her breathing was fast, and leaning back reveals she’s wet again. You hold her ass open just a finger’s width and squeeze some more jelly inside, making her shoulderblades rise together, her arms going straight below as her whole body tenses up. She shrieks: “COLD!” Her shivers melt into a giggle as you rub that chilly gel into her inner walls. Your cock is rigid, you’ve barely noticed, your heart fluttering with nervous excitement. You prod her hole, still containing two fingertips, with that wide little toy.

At a crawl, you do a switch, letting the first inch, depth and width, of the toy replace your fingertips. She looks back over her shoulder, biting her thick lip, moaning out. “Ah, you got it, I’ll relax more for you.” Pinkie looked forward again, spreading her knees apart and taking a deep, lung filling breath. She sighed and lowered her shoulders back to the floor, seeming to melt. The resistance vanished as well, and the light pressure from your palm on the base was enough to let the silicone toy slide in three inches, just another three from popping in past the crown.

The work was quick and easy, she was looser now that she relaxed. Progressing with wet bobs, you slide the toy bit by bit inside her, your free hand cupping and massaging your balls as they hang lower and fuller. You swallow, feeling a sandy desert in your throat, your head weary. With a smile, you let the widest section pop in, making her yelp and moan.

“I think I’m in heaven,” she sighed. “Oh wait, no I’m not. Turn it on!”

You do, and the girl all but falls apart like a cartoon robot missing one key rivet. Her body trembles to the soft hum of vibration. She picks herself up and stumbles to the bed as you quickly uncap the water bottle and chug half of it down. The grey you never noticed on the edge of your vision melts away, her room glowing bright. You pin Pinkie to her bed and lick her neck, making her moan out again. “Ah, I c-can’t feel my hips,” she giggled, spreading her thighs wide. You get under them and hoist them up with a barbell curl, letting her big butt sink on your hips. You rub her pussy with your cock, your body on fire.

You stand tall on your knees and hold her up with one arm, the other hand aiming your cock down to penetrate her puffy red-pink pussy. “Wa-hmmf!” Pinkie pants into her crossed arms, her tits squished to the bed, her hips in the air in your arms. You lower her down, groaning out hard with her as you sink in her hot pussy.

“Ah! Fuck, you’re so wet!” You bend over some and grit your teeth, smiling wide, lifting and lowering her sexy body like that gym rat. You breathe hard and buck your hips once your biceps burn too deep. You feel the music rapidly pulsing deep in your heart, your balls swing under your thighs as you drive into her from below. That sexy ass bounces, the headboard bangs on the wall, but you feel only the most intense euphoria.

Pinkie wails out, wetness glushes out and soaks your swinging balls. You drop her hips on your thighs, hands on her ass, impaling her deep, making that juicy butt ride your hips as you buck and roll them back and forth, her front still on the bed. “That’s it, fuck yes, I’m getting close, Pinkie. You’re so fucking hot.” You spank her big ass and grab it, looking at the black buttplug vibrating along. You touch the button again, the vibration doubles and rewards your ears instantly with a high scream of delight. You lay back and hump up, making her body bounce. “That’s it! Fuck!”

You press the button again, making the third light come in on the circular base, the speed higher than ever. Pinkie just continues moaning and whimpering a little higher pitch, her wide hips trembling and bucking spasmodically. You’re not much different, barely able to find any sort of rhythm. You can even feel the vibrating, quite a sensation.

At last, you buck and push her up and roll the girl on her side, holding her thick leg in the air. You hold it tight like a lever and buck down into her, making those juicy tits bounce. The best part, though, was looking in her hot blue-pink eyes. They were intense, fixed on you, mouth open and drooling a bit. You slow to a smooth deep pace, hand slapping the sheet next to her head, bracing yourself as you let her leg fall, leaving the two of you in a missionary position.

“Where do you want it, baby,” you whisper in her face, sucking her bottom lip and shoving your tongue in her mouth.

Pinkie grasps your face and smiles, panting hard, smiling ear to ear as she holds you a tongue away. “I, I can’t, thi-ing… cum… Ax, nyah! Ah!” Her eyes cross as you sink deep inside, her body trembling, the vibration strong enough to make your underbarrel go half numb. You pant in her face, content to share breath, lips touching, open. You suck air with her for a long while, just leaving your cock in the orgasming girl, finding the sensations on your hard cock mind blowing. You roll your hips forward, sighing in her face, feeling your pressure build so rapidly. You push harder, grunting, your bone just barely all the way inside her, filling the living orgasm. You close your eyes and bite her neck, sucking hard, your dick swelling up from the base. You concentrate and flex, pumping it all out deep in her in a barely controlled way. You grunt and pant in her ear, filling her up, your dick so suddenly sore, spent, tired, exhausted.

You fall to rest on her and pull your pulsing, spitting cock out to rest on her belly, grunting as you unload it all. You click the button on the vibe, and it shuts off, just like Pinkie. She twitches mildly, like the cymbal ringing after a hard crash. But her body, hot and damp and stuffed and spent, too, finds a deep rest rapidly. You climb fully on the bed and holder her tight. You close your eyes, her breath on your ear, yours on hers, and see the pink, letting it take you, deep bass taking your spent body off into a dream state.

Canterlot Tails 2

by dermuffinmeister

Twilight Sparkle

Rainbow Dash

Fluttershy

Applejack

Rarity

Pinkie Pie