Cloudchaser immediately busied herself with raising the glass of ice water to her lips so Flitter couldn't see her smile.
“Seriously, Stormy. We do not have time - or several other factors I could mention - for this.”
“To make bits you've got to spend them, Flitter.”
“To spend them we've got to have them.”
Regardless of Flitter’s retort, the poster of blue etches in the shape of a high-roofed store before them did not vanish in a poof of logic. “And I said before – you don’t have to keep using that name for me, Flits.” Cloudchaser shot back, preening the tips of her frosty mane. “We’ve got a good thing going here.”
“Yes. Crashing. Into a ravine. To cheers from raving vaudeville film fans.” Flitter’s shift to the left – what with her leaning over the table in frustration and all - really presented the three dragonflies stamped on her flank to Cloudchaser’s very appreciative view. “I still don’t see why this isn’t concerning you.”
“Aw come one, Flits, I don’t get concerned. That’s what our minutes are for.” With a soft tap, a leather-bound book’s edge stopped home on Flitter’s left forehoof. “Have a looks-see, partner.” Cloudchaser’s forehooves settled back behind her spiky mane and the billowy velvet on the chair she was sitting on, the one point of luxury in the otherwise box-thick basement of their house.
Fighting down the urge to remind her ditzy, ever-scheming and mindbendingly perverted friend that she’d written the minutes, Flitter tapped a hoof on the lip of the table that she leaned on hard enough that the vibration sprang open the ledger. “April 1st: First made the offer to Stormwalker about having a store in Ponyville, to have something to offer other than water-movement and fancy smiles. Was originally asked if this was an April Foals Joke, then laughed at so hard I wondered why I bothered telling her anything.”
“To be interrupted five minutes later by ‘Stormwalker’ giving her a thirty-minute refresher on just why you love saying so much to me,” Stormwalker’s leering grin was so wide now, Flitter was surprised it didn’t pierce a storage box. “Over two kitchen counters and the TV.”
And there it was. “Look, Stormy-”
“Oh come on, again with that name! Not that I don’t like it coming from your lips, but-”
“It’s your actual one! You only called yourself ‘Cloudchaser’ because the other ‘Cloudchaser’ liked hearing it when you had sex!” Flitter’s hoof slapped down over her forehead at Cloudchaser Stormwalker’s sassy retort. “Or… any time, really.” Returning attention back to the ledger’s recording, Flitter sighed heavily. She needed a break and it was only 11 in the morning. Perhaps she should put a note of that new record into the minutes.
“April 3rd: Stormy came to me to talk about how to possibly make that store in the original spot where Noodle Fan was. Got surprised she was so enthusiastic about this. Realized where her eyes were locked on and the surprise was gone.”
“Right, I forgot: sorry about pouncing on you mid-writing. I know how much you appreciate your hoofwork.” Stormwalker’s heartfelt apology got Flitter’s eyes to focus on her for the first time. “And…well, also for not freaking out over Little Cloudchaser.”
Tapping the large sign propped on the table next to them, Flitter smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she responded. “And also thank you for keeping the hickeys the night after to a place where nopony could see. Even if your work in the sound department left much to be desired.” Namely, by Lucky Clover and Wild Fire at three in the night, who’d burst in thinking Flitter’s howls were her death throes. The answer for their intervention was confirmation that Flitter was not dying, that her lungs were far more durable than anypony her size had a right to be, and - oh yeah - an eyeful of Stormwalker’s tongue tangoing madly in Fllitter’s folds.
“’Much to be desired’? Compliment and challenge accepted, Flitter.” The creaks as Stormwalker plodded onto the table had Flitter’s ears bristling at the implication. “After all…” And one of her blue hooves traced out the sinful dip of taut skin and fur down her barrel, stopping when it came to another, puffier cleft between her legs. “I know what gets your wings aflutter too.”
Flitter blushed as red as her hairbow at the implication. Fighting down her wings from stiffening at full mast, she barked at her best friend again. “Stormwalker! We’re in a recall of the minutes! And do you not remember what happened with the rolled-up blueprints last time?!”
“Which is why this version of the map is laminated now.” Stormwalker’s matter-of-fact response fell from her pouting lips like the very fact they needed to waterproof their blueprints was somehow not a big deal. “Continue.“
“Well – ah!– to the 6th day then: Finally decided on a name – Debon-Mares’ Prada , since our latest acquisition of rich fabric from the house we moved into could probably work well as a product to other fashion stores and shops – damn it, Stormy – without too much work on our part.” Ironically, the work Stormwalker was doing at this juncture was causing the interruptions. The first came from the dragonflies imprinted on Flitter’s left asscheek jiggling as Stormy’s hoof swatted them. The second stutter formed when the hooves of the Persian blue pegasus massaged against the Stormy-proclaimed ‘second sweet spot’ of Flitter – the divot of skin just above her dock, chair wobbling dangerously as Flitter shuddered.
Speaking of cheeky, the grin Stormy shot at Flitter as she shivered in her seat had enough of it to rival her own glutes. “Am I being a distraction now?” Well, a studious pony could get the answer to that question on the next page – if the shifting of Stormwalker’s long thighs to lecherously squeeze out crystalline cargo from her pussy wasn’t stealing one’s gaze like it did Flitter’s.
“I can guess when your eyes shut off, Stormy, but I won’t believe your ears did.” Stormwalker only took another long pull from the mug of cool water next to her. The other forehoof re-attended to another trickle of liquid seeping from Stormwalker. One light push of smooth keratin an inch above her folds and the “Ahhh….” the Persian blue pegasus let out barely a foot from her ear was over far more than her refreshment, labia parting ever so teasingly as her eyes fluttered shut.
Idly eying her own glass of water, its melted ice cubes raising the liquid to overflowing minutes ago, Flitter downed half of it in one gulp. Refocused, her eyes swung to the ledger, yanking it from under Stormwalker’s elbow and slamming it shut. “There. Done. And we still have addressed none of these pressing issues.”
Stormwalker eyed her glass of water, damp stains dusting the expanse it had sullied from within the cradle of her upturned hoof. “That’s cheating,” Stormwalker said, hoof at her nethers now pointing accusingly at Flitter’s glass.
Flitter ‘s eyes’ shot open. “Y-you could actually see that?!” Stormy’s eyes were shut the whole time, how did anything besides sperm and salted ice cream heighten her awareness so?!
“No changing the subject.” Stormwalker tut-tutted, rolling onto her belly again and now at the edge of the table. ”Naughty naughty, you’ve been caughty.”
“Hello kettle, meet pot, phoned in to tell you that you’re black,” Flitter murmured.
“Already called back to tell ‘em by the end of this week, we’ll both be in the black.” One hind leg crossed over the other as Stormwalker studied her pegasus friend. “Think there’s one more statement in there? Something about our inventory.”
The book opened again between Flitter’s hooves. “Fine, Stormy. 8th Day: We have little money after buying the Noodle store and sign, no insurance, and need to turn product after a month or else we lose it. The locale’s been abandoned for good reason. Half of the pipes are eroded and the place leaks like a sieve whenever a light drizzle hits. So unless we make a good first impression on everypony or find a long-lost inheritance, ‘Debon-Mares’ Prada’ might be over befoooooohwhathefuck?!”
“Sorry, seem to have misplaced my drink, ma’am. May I have another?” Stormwalker’s statement was in the form of a question that contradicted heavily with how her hoof was pushing toward the gusher at Flitter’s legs like no tomorrow. The way Flitter’s heart was beating, however, that could possibly ring true in a few moments. How could a limb with no points still feel like an arrow when flicking and scraping against her nub? The attack left Flitter short of breath, and that was no place to be versus the tireless pegasus.
“Mmhmm. So what was that? That a pony wouldn't love something luxurious to wrap around them?” Seriously, this was hard velvet, thought Flitter, would anypony let me know how she could dig so deep between it and her to push at my folds?! “To have cling to their body… “ Her hooves went to work on the sliver of a slit visible beneath the chair as Flitter whispered her name. “To mop up their succulent juices whenever a choice cut of cock passes by? Because Rarity would disagree. You’re more disagreeable than an Element now, Flits?”
“Gggh, no more…” Flitter was not even trying to respond to the troubling numbers. Her hips lifted at last, but the stress of keeping back that primal urge to plow Stormwalker through the table groin first held strong. Just a few minutes of Stormy’s hoof dragging across the length of her lower lips, slipping in, swirling around like it was…. “Damn it!” Stormwalker was halfway in her now, the hooves bending out her winner walls like taffy as her legs followed a more gelatinous sweet in their buckling. “Isn’t gonna – fuck, yes – make our wreck of a store any less a wreck!”
“Those are what we call ‘repairpony problems’, Flits.” The curt tone of Stormwalker settled Flitter’s heart. “Ours lie elsewhere, and you’re not in the right headspace to hear it. So let’s clear the air together.” Like Tartarus the air would be clean, Flitter refused to moan into Stormy’s ear. All that plagued – intoxicated, more like - Flitter’s nostrils was the rush of Stormy’s drenched forelimb and the squelching of her cunny as it melted over her ministrations.
“Now we can talk about your problems with assertion until Luna’s next thousandth birthday, or you can give her sister something to relieve herself over today, and beg me to let you leak.” After a cruel twist of her hooves that sent Flitter’s body into convulsive fits and her mind to the future goal of finding the exact anti-torture law that move violated, Stormwalker stopped her hooves’ gyrations abruptly. The gift of Flitter was still dripping into the cushion in small spurts, the Persian blue pegasus’s intrusion keeping most of it in.
A pity it would also keep in Flitter’s begging, too. “H-how about no? T-that suit you well?”
“Let’s consult the panel.” And like a washing machine’s agitator, Stormy’s hoof twisted counter-clockwise. Sparkling glee rushed over polished keratin in fresh rivers. The Stormwalker spin cycle was stalled again, though, so Flitter quickly started a pattern of her own – defiantly corkscrewing herself on the impaled limb. She needed no help in tallying or reaching climax – then or now! And her pussy appreciated the act, freeing more of her fluid to pool in the crook of Stormy’s hoof.
Snapping her eyes open, two pools of glittering fuchsia drew her in. Well, that was a second of life Flitter would have liked to not have pushed away from her. Damnit, she thought that they were done with this after their romp over La Ti Da’s- “F-fuck me!” And that was the moment of Flitter she wished she’d forget, as a traitorous call tore from her throat the second Stormy scowled and pushed herself fully into her darker-coated friend.
Her mental reprieve came when Stormy's tongue happily lapped away any curses she could level at herself, twisting in her mouth much like Stormy had her drooling divide. Shit, it wasn’t like she was gonna bury herself in the ground (or Stormy’s Little Cloudchaser) for the first time twice. “F-fine. I n-need you. I-I always have… “ No no NO! Stormy was pulling out, what more did she want from her? Tch, like Flitter didn’t know the answer. Time to pull in a chair for that humble creampie, then. “Now rut me like the fucking smugass you are!”
“Thank you, Flitter. That’s a wonderful breakthrough.” That the same smirk returned to grace Stormy’s maw when she craned her head forward and bopped noses with Flitter finally revealed what her earlier retreat from her ravaged cunt was: preparation. Holy hell, Flitter was going to be committed today, if the orderlies could pry her out of the chair first. ”Time I followed suit.”
After Flitter recovered from her electrifying high, she’d had to make a mental note to get Twilight to look into whether Stormwalker had ESP. She’d tried to scream out a complaint, but that vanished into a rumbling shriek she didn’t know she could even emit.
Also, screw it, Bulk Fucking Biceps would snap a forearm failing to separate her meat-grinding loins form Stormy’s oscillating hoof. Stormy was in way too many and not enough places all at once now. Hot breath wafted into Flitter’s ear as if from a Sugarcube oven as Stormy’s mimicry of her own fucking floated down Flitter’s ear canal. But such delving was impossible due to Stormy’s right hoof, busy with crushing her nape and head into Stormy’s heaving shoulder. A foot lower, and the perverted pegasus was plunging against her wild heartbeat as her tongue mapped locations for her teeth to mould out. Her collarbone was soon awash with inky black marks.
Then there was Stormy’s wild scent, still rich with blueberries and sharp rain and ozone and… “F-fuck, harder,” Alas, Flitter’s flooding folds were blocking out that last particular smell of Stormwalker. If Stormwalker cared, Flitter couldn’t hear it. Unless somepony counted the vicious ramming of her hoof into her, creaking out the chair in a dangerous bend as Flitter’s glorious glutes pushed back against every ratting rush.
Flitter had to grab the front legs of the chair with her forearms, dark Persian blue fur flattening against the unyielding wood. Stormy’s arms wrapped over her barrel to guarantee Flitter wouldn’t be fighting both a concussion and her voice box from her motions. At this angle, her engorged plot was fully visible to Stormwalker’s greedy eyes. No need for a flagged tail either, with it now draped across the top of the chair’s high back. And yet, the scope hadn’t been invented that could register the size of the solitary fuck Flitter gave about this.
The ponut was not Stormy's target, however. Those orgasm-slick folds were treated to a double helping of two unforgiving, unyielding Stormwalker hooves, pressing her twitching hips and back legs so deeply into the arms of the seat that Flitter stood no risk of moving an inch further down. With the wet sloshing of Stormwalker’s furious fucking, vertigo itself refused to register for the bow-wearing (and bow-legged) pegasus. That and every word in their language that didn’t start with ‘f’ or ‘s’.
“Fucking-! Faster, Stormy!” Case in point.
But this time, Stormwalker seemed to want to take her time scaling Mt. St. Flitter. Though both her front hooves returned to twisting out screams from the pegasus bent below her, her motions were not fucking her senseless. And in Flitter’s current position, she had no leverage to make Stormwalker do so. Such a lack of options and mercy should have sent her into a rage. But Flitter didn’t want rage, she wanted rutting. Her rear legs widened in a silent plea for more until her rear hooves were about to slip off the arms of the chair she was wound around. Flitter swore she could hear Stormwalker whistle at her spasming channel.
And then Stormy showed just why she’d held back. The second Flitter was ready to hit her peak again – the tightening of muscles around her legs and Stormy’s an early-alert system - both of Stormy’s hooves pushed out of her cunt with a final lecherous squishing. A roar that would have sent a hydra racing for the hills rang around the walls of their basement. Stormwalker didn't even skip a beat, taking one of Flitter’s forehooves off the chair and laid one soft kiss at its curved tip of keratin. Then, Stormwalker hooked it tightly around the nape of her neck. Right back into Flitter went Stormwalker’s hooves, her new repositioning of the green-maned pegasus allowing her savage thrust to finally hit her G-spot like paydirt.
Nevermind the hills, Filter’s next guttural yell would have sent that hydra racing for the relative safety of a volcano. If the green-maned pegasus’ world could shrink any further, those two points of keratin splitting her and that panting mouth a sliver of table away was. Her pussy squashed, squirted, shuddered over Stormwalker’s arms, powering them in and out of her only scant seconds behind her pumping. And that face above her, lidded eyes and frosted locks weighted down by sweat and desire, made the entire scene mirror her filthiest dreams.
On the subject of that latent ESP that Flitter had so envied before, her lack of a need to tell Stormwalker where to strike in order to make her squirm and squeal was something her voice box thanked her for. Or would, if Flitter’s screams weren’t threatening to rip them to shreds anyway. However, her lungs held strong against the onslaught from both panting pegasi, her screams becoming more unintelligible as Flitter sought her end. And her howls didn’t drown out Stormy enough to keep her from hearing, “Cum for me, my sexy co-owner,” followed by the dip of the Persian blue pegasus’ tongue right into that spot above her port.
Escape velocity hit like a rainboom. And in that moment of ultimate ecstasy, Flitter’s new habit following the Clover/Fire event came surging forth. She eeped, a sound low and sharp like a rainbow-screened TV, as her velvety walls turned to iron. Locking in around Stormwalker’s glorious hooves, Flitter’s quaking pussy performed her namesake with the waterfall of marecum rushing through them. Critical breach was inevitable this time, and her juices fizzled out to vividly darken the fabric around her seat as her ass settled back into the chair. Each jet, each spurt brought it closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Despite herself, despite her inner pony bashing arms against her cage at this final indignity, Flitter’s mouth creaked open in anticipation.
As the tidal event ebbed, Stormwalker leaned down off of the table and pursed her lips tight against Flitter’s soaked catch, a lewd slurp nearly rolling the green-pared pegasus’ eyes into her skull. Then Stormwalker’s hooves tightened over her barrel and brought her upright, ragged rasps of breath escaping her as she eased into the chair. A sharp intake of breath followed from the frosty-maned pegasus as she nursed the climax in her mouth like liquor. “Sooooo,” she said in a drawl that showed the bubbling bounty between her lips before it shot down her throat in one gulp like cider. “Have I proved my point now?”
“C-certainly not!” Flitter’s retorted hoarsely. Her hips were now lifting, one after the other, as she opened the ledger again. How had it stayed on the table, after-?! ”And I have no idea why we have this around if every concern I bring up dies in a flood of-”
“Well, that’s the problem I’m seeing now.” All-Business Stormwalker was back in vogue apparently, as her gaze turned razor sharp and her hoof pointed to Flitter. “You’re either too tightly wound up or ready to burst apart at a moment’s notice. Have been since we thought of this, mind.” A cautious grin graced her face again. “And cute as it is, buttons that easy to push aren’t just good for me in any shady corner we can reach. They’re also good for every competitor, seller and swindler in Equestria to use to fleece you senseless.”
“Don’t be silly,” growled Flitter. Her bow was still askew from the earthshattering event two minutes prior, but she made no move to adjust it – or herself – in their uncomfortable positions. Her battered pride was still standing. “I’m being practical. Besides, Ponyville doesn’t attract frauds-”
“Trixie? Flim-Flam? Everything about Filthy Rich?”
Nopony whose tongue had gone the places that Stormwalker did should have been that quick on it. Flitter was sure of this, and yet the corners of her mouth rose not in masked disbelief, but sly satisfaction. Sorry Ponyville; find another pegasus who can out-wit you with a mouth still washed with Flitter’s sperm. This one is taken. “I think I have enough to handle them otherwise.”
“You might. But I’d rather you make this a non-factor. Because right now you’re either super-reserved, and I have to break you out of it… or you’re not, and then that voice of yours breaks me.” Stormwalker’s smile hitched a bit higher. “And I’ll be happy to show you just how that habit of yours manifests. We’re heading back to La Ti Da tomorrow; gotta both get you in your right mind and promote our store. Win my little wager, and I’ll step off as the P.R. Head of this store we’ve got – you can run Debon-Mares’ Prada how you want. I’ll even take you wherever you want to celebrate. My treat.”
“Among others you’ve shown, I’m sure.” Flitter tried to ease her tangled green locks back into normal, an increasingly futile task. “And if you win?”
“Then we leave the spa with no fuss and I stay on being the voice of the spa. I’m not enough of a freak to try and ravage you on a table there.” Finally, thought Flitter, some limit of Stormwalker revealing itself! But as Stormwalker lifted herself off the sweat-slicked table and rolled up their plans for the store, a wild smile finally took full form. “Oh yes, how silly of me to forget, Flits! The second that front door closes, I get out Little Cloudchaser and reacquaint it with every one of your tight holes on the Spa’s roof, again.”
Luna. Fuck her. With the sharpest end of the crescent moon!
But Flitter needed to prove something, and if given enough of a condition, she could without worry. “One condition, Stormy.”
“Name it, Flits.” Stormwalker tucked the roll of laminated parchment under one of her wings.
“No contact with me this time in the Spa. In fact, the first of us to do so outside of an emergency loses immediately.”
“’Outside of an emergency’.” Stormwalker flicked the door open. “Wow, you are learning from April Foals.”
Before Flitter could shoot back a proper rebuttal – likely about the chain of events leading to the April Foals’ event and how little what either of them was doing qualified as an ‘emergency’ - Stormwalker’s tail shot out, caught the basement’s door handle and drew it toward her. The process was long enough to give Flitter every second to lose herself in the still winking folds of her fellow pegasus’ lower lips.
“A pity all the prep in the Crystal Empire can’t save you.” And suddenly, Flitter was trapped within her shock-still body, her treacherous thoughts, and that maddeningly persistent scent of blueberries.
Stormwalker immediately busied herself with shutting the last few inches between threshold and door so Flitter couldn't see her smile.
Was Flitter starting to regret her bet with Stormwalker? Well, it had barely been an hour from their previous pounding, La Ti Da Spa’s beautiful tented roof was looming above their heads, the pleasurable smell of exotic soaps was currently greeted her nostrils….
…and there was a noticeably long bulge in the corner of one of Stormwalker’s saddlebags. So, yes. So much regret. “Stormy, that had better be Carrot Top’s produce in your bag.” snapped Flitter.
“Would it help if I said that she was happy to see it?” Stormwalker said.
“…It would not, no.” Because then I start wondering why, Flitter didn’t add.
‘Not to worry, Flits. Carrot Top was happy enough that I’d found someone special, and really? I’d go into business with nopony else.” Stormwalker's next move was to hug her hairbow-wearing bestie with benefits. "I'm so happy for us, Flits!" And for once, Flitter didn’t complain. In fact, Flitter’s reasons for refusing this advance were dipping into the negatives.
Ever since this whole idea about starting Prada, she’d actually owed a lot to Stormwalker. Every time her conversation dipped into the numbers, Stormwalker was there to whisper encouragement into her ear – as well as other things. And despite her instincts, Flitter had never seen Stormwalker lose her cool. That sort of poise… couldn’t come from someone who’d been freaking over the finances.
Suddenly, Flitter started to wonder if Stormwalker was seeing what she had in the figures. And i-
No. Stormwalker definitely had something planned. Call it devious, call it determined, but she had something whirring in that head of hers, even if it involved finding new ways to screw her into every corner of their little two-story. And Flitter's heart thrilled to know what it was, debased as that mind forming it was.
Flitter broke the hug and stared into her friend’s pink eyes. Oh yes, that brought a shudder of joy right through her body like before, but now she quickly stamped it down. She was here to turn things around – for both herself and Debon-Mares’ Prada’s sake.
“Thanks for not considering this the end of the bet, by the way.”
Was Stormy still on about that bet? One look at her and Flitter had her answer. Even now, the tight summer vest rolling over her frame only barely hid the dark marks on her collar. And if Stormy could see that… she could see what it was she’d have to win without. “No. You’re good, Stormy.”
“Happy to hear. Past the receptionist’s door then, then we begin?”
“After you.”
Marching into the front office, Flitter’s flyer was out and laid before the receptionist pony’s desk. “I’d like to make an appointment – and offer one as well.” Good. Three days of practice and the words now rolled off her tongue like butter, instead of the beehive it felt like before.
Speaking of the solution to that problem, Stormwalker closed the front door just as the receptionist pony spoke. “Certainly, right this way. And…” Her eyes swung to the paper. “Debon-Mares’ Prada? That does look interesting. Is it open now?”
“Will be in…” Oh goodness, Flitter’s courage was fleeing her. This was the first step, and yet-
“Three weeks,” Stormwalker was like greased lightning, grin flashing as she stepped next to her green-maned friend. “Till then, we’re gonna look the part. Standard Three-And-A-Half Seasons session, please.”
“Absolutely!“
“Check with Aloe: I’ve already settled that tab.” Flitter successfully kept from shooting a concerned look to Flitter. “Let’s go, Flits. I’ll explain later.” Stormy was behind the entry door before Flitter could finish blinking.
Sliding her front hooves off of the counter, Flitter reached for the door leading out of the empty lobby - only for it to be slowly pulled back open, the delectable curves of the Persian blue pegasus again greeting her vision. Luckily, there was no one in the hallway, as Stormwalker was pulling the door open with her tail, leg braced at five and nine-o clock. The lecherous display placed her nethers on full view for Flitter to stumble back from.
By the time Flitter’s heart stopped threatening to burst from her chest, Stormwalker’s rump was holding the door open, all four limbs back on solid wood as she shot a knowing look at the green-maned pegasus. “Oh, and the bet starts now.”
Saddle Arabia itself couldn’t make Flitter’s throat feel dryer.
From the second they were settled in the first room, Stormwalker’s campaign of carnality continued behind the spa ponies’s backs. Bella had barely finished introducing herself before Stormwalker’s tongue was wagging at her, the pull to tangle it with her own tugging at her maw like a fishhook. So. Much. Regret. Especially for the rules Flitter herself had issued. Of course, Stormwalker would be hard-pressed to win without touching her! So now she’d do everything to make Flitter want to touch her. Stupid Flitter, stupid! thought the green-haired mare.
And by the first room’s arrival, all their clothes dispensed of to be returned upon leaving, Stormwalker was working her way into Flitter’s mind. Ballooning out one of her cheeks while Flitter was busy talking of their poster to Bella, Flitter tearing it in her lust-tightened grasp when Bella tried to take it from her. Thankfully, Flitter played it off as nerves. Even though it wasn’t her first time at this spa, she had built a rapport with them, and Bella’s grateful acceptance of another poster put Flitter back on track.
But in that first room – the one for their full body/wing massage – Bella started asking whether they had some simple lace dresses for her sister’s upcoming wedding to sell. Flitter's response was not the far more accurate “Yes,” but a “Yeauuuuughh….” The reason her jaw dropped mid-word was that Stormwalker had added more imitation to her act, pumping an imaginary horsecock in her right hoof. Her left limb switched between pushing at her bulging chin and neck and cupping the fake balls of an invisible stallion.
Flitter tried her damndest to draw Bella’s attention to that instead of her utterly flopped answer. But by the time Bella’s eyes swung to meet the frosty-maned pegasus, Stormy’s hooves were at the back of her neck, in faked pain as she pleaded with the spa pony. “Oooh, sorry, miss- I’ve had these knots in my neck all week. Would you mind… teasing them away?” Flitter slammed her head into the hole of the massage table to avoid every second of Stormwalker’s eyes, locked on her as every word spilled from her pouting lips. Needless to say, Flitter had plenty of stress in her back when Bella got to her.
The next room of their 3 ½ Seasons session was the mudroom though. Surely there was no way Stormwalker could work her wiles in this place, thought Flitter as she stepped into the room.
Those pickle slices were barely on their eyes and the door shut for the required twenty minutes before a thrumming moan from the bath next to Flitter made her raise one of her own slices up to see what was happening. And who the fuck else was it but Stormy. Pickles still sat over her eyes, but she was wholly turned around in her pit of mud, bracing her hooves on the front of the bath.
“Come oooon, Flits, don’t you wanna take me? You can look…” Another sweep of her hoofs brought her folded wings to full-spread, the majestic extensions playing more teasing shadows across her form. “…and touch.” Her hooves went lower, stroking at her folds. Flitter refused to follow suit, a stand that she nearly reneged on in a clamber of buckling limbs when Stormy topped off with, “Oh Celestia, I’ll even let you on top this time if you wanna, Flits. Don’t you… trust me?”
The answer to that question was ‘not as far as Flitter could throw Iron Will.” But even slathered in muck, Stormy had found a way to turn this into a peep-show. Her left hoof shoveled the mud off her barrel and hips in waves to reveal matted fur and taut muscle, ass cheeks popping up after the cleaning before dipping sensually into the mud like chocolate-covered blueberries to repeat her treatment. And her tail… her flagged blue tail flicked left and right, spraying mud all over Flitter’s face and nearly getting it in her eye. But somehow, Flitter couldn’t shield them. Especially when Stormy’s hoof dropped to the side of the other tub and pushed at her mud-thick centerfolds, supple skin parting easily to show her massaging limb Soon, Flitter's mouth was as agape as Stormy’s pussy lips.
“Come-on-Flitter-leap-this-pit-and-rut-me-into-another~!” Her hips started ricocheting off the edge of the tub between each word, and Flitter was sure Stormy would dislocate a bone during her dry humping. But a hoof to her upper lip later and Stormwalker's lower lips burst, gushing a stream of juices into the mudpit. Her mouth jutted in rapture, but the paragon of control again let no sound past but a microscopic gasp.
Flitter could feel her body vibrate through the mud. How was she going to stand this?! Even now, as Stormwalker’s hips shuddered to a stop and her left hoof pulled at the drain to the tub, all Flitter could think of was pushing her back in and getting some of that nectar straight from the tap. She was going to lose Debon-Mares' to Stormwalker, and she wouldn’t even have to try? Lose to a mare who’d spent all her time in their basement prodding at her when she was…
Flitter’s desperate mind grasped onto that sparkling ember of an idea and tossed it into the furnace. It was risky. Way too risky for her to pursue normally. But the next room was the hair-curling room. And if Stormy repeated any of her simulacra while Flitter was that close to a heat source…
Straightening her saddlebags, Flitter walked into that gold-plated door next to the steam room, careful to not make contact with the leering Stormy. After working down both their hair to free-floating locks around their heads and napes (and rapid blushing of Flitter when Bella asked her where those marks on her neck came from), Bella then reached above both pegasi. With a snap, Bella lowered the salon’s perm helmets over their heads.
“I’ll be back with the curling irons, then we’ll fix your manes to tip-top shape!” chirped Bella, trotting out the door.
Flitter took a deep breath, soldered herself, then turned to the right - and found Stormy with one hoof working deep in her bare nethers, towel around her barrel thrown to the arm of her chair minutes ago. Luna above, thank goodness this was a private session. Then Flitter reminded herself that Stormwalker probably wanted it that way, to keep them – and the result of their bet – from being thrown out. Those magazines here would not drown out a thing Stormwalker wanted to tease her with. Flitter’s plan needed to work.
“Of course, Stormy. I’ve always wanted to just fuck that grin off your face.” Stormy’s convulsion nearly dislodged the perm from its base on the chair. Flitter twitched too; words like this were way too filthy for her to even be truly comfortable with. Stormy had to know that this was going to be a sprint to the finish. But Flitter bet, with that curve of keratin twisting in Stormy's folds and Flitter’s own pressed to the chair arms, that Stormy had gone too far out on her skids this time.
“Maybe I could do it over the counter, as you did me-just keep thrusting until you shriek my name into the bowls we ate breakfast out of?” Flitter's younger flicked over her lips, knowing that Stormwalker was getting off on watching the words spilling from it. "Or maybe you want to go public with more than just our store? Maybe you want me to blast a hold in that door, push out of it halfway? Lap at your plothole until Aloe and Lotus come to save you?” God, every word of this was obscene! But it was having the desired effect. Stormy was trying to roll her eyes at the remark even as her hoof started circling her spongy slit again. “Or maybe over Lotus’ very desk?” Now Stormy’s eyes rolled for a different reason, before snapping back to focus. “How about we just fuck like you train?” Flitter finally braced her rearhooves on the edge of her chair’s cushion and pushed up. Her capri shorts and tight shirt strained against her arched bacl. “Just… come over here and try me out, coach.”
Flitter cursed her stutter, the last struggle of a decent mind as it drowned in competitive thirst. But it was enough; Stormy’s hoof went slack at that final world, her loins tightened around her keratin-covered extension, and “Fliiitter, you dirty-” slipped from Stormwalker’s mouth before her jaws slammed shut and stifled the scream, but her hoof stayed. Even now, her mind spiderwebbing itself over with satisfaction, Stormwalker refused to let a drop of marecum stain her chair. Flitter’s body collapsed against her chair, turning away from the lewd sight of her girlfriend literally gush over her. Another second of seeing Stormy writhe would have sent her over the cliff too.
After several seconds, Stormwalker grabbed the discarded towel to her right, tightly closed her legs over it, and slowly pulled her hoof from the floodzone. Turning to Flitter, the green-maned pegasus shrank in her seat at the burning lust simmering behind her eyes – and a second later, her mouth. “Flitter… Just tell me how bad you want me to fuck you senseless. Tell me and I’ll make it happen. Here and now.”
“I’d love to, S-Stormy,” Flitter’s legs were cramming together. Her shorts were about superglued to her thighs. They’d both ruin their seats at this rate! Only the soft tapping of hooves finally gave Flitter her out. “But I can’t…”
“Why not?” The sign-song of Stormy buzzed in Flitter's ears. She hadn’t heard. Perfect. “Tell me!”
“Because Bella’s about to come back.”
CLICK.
Stormwalker was almost vibrating in her chair when Bella got the door open, and thankfully, Flitter was released from her heated helmet first. Bella went to work fixing her green locks into the curling column she so adored, fitting her hairbow atop them to finish off the look. But Flitter had only just leaped down from her seat and was on her fifth step to the door when Stormwalker’s hoof wrapped tightly around her tail, bringing her back to her with a snap.
“Wanna tell me where you’re goin’?” purred the Persian blue pegasus, blinded to Bella unsnapping her helmet and fixing up her hair, to Discord himself if he’d ambled in with an army full of flying pigs. All that her eyes, ears, and heart knew was Flitter. And for once, that would be to Stormy’s regret.
“To the judges to collect my trophy. Because I think this-” Flitter pointed to the tuft of green hair the lust-drugged pegasus had wrapped around her arm. “-means I win, Stormy.”
Stormy’s half-mast snapped to full sail, breath hitching hard in her throat. Flitter’s grin grew as the seconds ticked by. Bella looked between both mares, eyebrows lifting at the strange show before her.
“Y-you…” The Persian blue pegasus’s jaw moved, but no word besides that came forth.
“Great, going Stormy; you now know the 21st letter of the alphabet!” said Flitter. “Now say what I actually went through with this to hear.”
An invisible lump went down Stormy’s throat. Her head followed that downward path, eyes cast to the tiled floor as she said, “Fine, Flits. You’ve won. Debon-Mares’ Prada is yours to run with.” Then her guilty pink eyes rise up to match. “So where do you want to celebrate?”
A thousand different restaurants and locales ran through Flitter’s head and suffered a head-on collision with the brick wall of reality. Stormwalker was a co-owner. Her bits were part of their funds. And food – well, it just didn’t feel that appetizing to Flitter right now. She wanted to yell, scream, pin this insufferable brat to a wall and let her have it for all he-
“Your bags are just outside the counter if you’re both finished,” Bella said. Stormwalker quickly nodded as the spa pony left. Flitter’s thoughts turned to just what was in one of those bags that Stormwalker had brought. And at last, that final puzzle piece nestled into place.
“Let’s go,” Stormwalker skulked to the door. “We’ve gotta get jackets from home if we wanna reach a cafe an -“
“Stormy?”
“Yes?”
“Nevermind the cafes.” And suddenly, both pegasi were face-to-face. “I know exactly where I want to eat out.”
“Mmh-hah?! Yes, Flitter, I didn’t know you felt this fucking good a-hmummuh-“
Stormwalker’s voice, to this day, was ambrosia for Flitter. It sent her stomach into flips, stood her wings on end, caused her airtight capri shorts to stick to her damp nethers. But that voice rumbling into her maw as she suckled on Stormy’s lips was so much better now. Especially considering she'd rarely had this Persian blue pegasus in her debt in a manner such as this.
This meant Flitter had a lot of catching up to do.
“Forty-eight-minutes-just to ruin it in one…” Every single break of the wildly crashing lips should have elicited another Stormwalker response. But Flitter’s hoof into her cutie mark only ended her intended tirade in a gasp of raw lust. Flitter was over the moon just creeping onto the horizon. She had finally been gifted with a method of stopping Stormy’s seductive words for the first time since stepping into the building now below their writhing horizontal bodies.
Their lips broke again, and Stormy’s hoof caught Flitter’s on the fifth swing before it could hit that reddened patch of clouds and sun stamped on her hip, bringing it to her mouth instead. Tantalizing licks soon bathed it. While Flitter’s eyes locked on that spit-shine, Stormwalker spoke.
“Didn’t think you’d want to do what I did,” A smile sprang up. “But who says I’m letting you collect?”
Flitter’s pointing out that it was Stormwalker who’d both made and lost the bet in the first place died on a shuddering “Uuuunghhhh,” as the Persian blue pegasus hips rolled into her darker-coated partner’s. Stormy mouthing “Oh fuck, so wet…” as Flitter’s shorts crushed into her labia would have set her off on any other day. But now, her concern was on Stormy’s half-lidded eyes, her perfect reflection in the afternoon sky as pulsed off her prone body…
…and the utter shock when Stormy rolled to face away from Flitter, flaring her wings. But even though Flitter’s forelimbs felt like candied molasses, she got them around Stormy’s barrel fast and forced her to the ground, arousal-stiffened wings stilled against her beating fur. Now it was Stormy’s firm glutes pushing into her crotch, and the need to dry hump her into climax was about to overwhelm Flitter.
“Can’t keep me down foreeeever…” purred Stormy. Flitter’s mind – much at it shared the same state with her captive’s cutie mark, knew a challenge when she heard it.
“Thanks to you…” The long loops of Flitter’s saddlebags – hastily thrown to the ceiling’s corner wall when Flitter had forced down Stormwalker on this platform and sucked her lips off – would come back into play. Its bands were swept into the crooks of Flitter’s arms, then wound tightly around the frost-haired pegasus elbows and wings. Three loops around and the knot was complete, Stormy fidgeting uselessly against her new bonds. “I can. ”
Stormwalker, two-thirds tied and bare below the waist, whirled her crown of frosted blue locks around to face Flitter. “So you do…” That rich purr floating through the air nearly caused her hairbow-wearing companion to lose footing entirely. “I’m just so tight, here, though. Too much to take anything you have. But I brought so much here…that I’d hoped to use on you. Just ready to use on a nice fucking body.”
That tendency toward foreplay was Stormy’s greatest strength. No matter where, when, or how, her hooves could easily find their way into intimate incisions without fail, and her mastery of vocal cues meant nopony but Flitter heard her whenever she so deemed. She suggested how to dominate her in the filthiest of ways, then turned them on you. It was a testament to her mastery over both body and baritone.
It was also a habit only Stormy shared.
Stormwalker’s saddlebags herself were soon being splayed open by Flitter’s forehooves, and her prize found its way into Flitter’s hooves. So did another clear jar, one Flitter first thought was pilfered from La Ti Da’s many wheeled mini-tables. Until her eyes stole a closer took to reveal… “Lime-flavored lube?!”
It wasn’t until Flitter brought the tool to Stormy’s folds that Flitter caught it: a familiar buffet of blueberries… and limes. The green-maned pegasus could have danced a jig if everything below her knees wasn’t quaking with anticipation. But if she’s prepared there, then that means…
Stormwalker jumped in surprise when Flitter. “You… you did all this? After being so… so much, for four days… and…” Flitter refused to allow tears to soak into Stormwalker’s coat.
“S’nothing. Y…you stuck with me for four years.” Flitter was caught off guard – and Stormy hadn’t even shot off a double entendre. Just the truth – in fact, they had been around for that long, from water recollection to Cerberus attacks, to chatting up over the Wonderbolt Academy over mugs of cider. And it was only recently that Flitter had shown any sense of assertion – not just with this store, but with keeping Stormy from making it her own.
Now, with Stormy’s lime-pungent labia before her, she knew just why Stormy's sudden stubbornness had come through. For this. For the moment where their friendship-with-benefits grew into something more, both in terms of footing and footling about.
Then Flitter remembered that Stormy’s hips were kneading into the plastic of the floor they were on. The wet squelching of her puffy pussy was only drowned out by the still-humid gusts around them. Even now – or maybe because of - this hybrid moment of deepest bonding, Stormy’s libido guided her. The realization struck Flitter like a thunderclap. For once, Stormy wasn’t in complete control; physically, or emotionally. This was her true gift to Flitter, dressed in the wrappings and bows of nigh-impossible expectation.
Flitter wouldn’t settle for just meeting them anymore. With a flick of her wrist, Little Cloudchaser's tip was pulling open the left edge of Stormy’s flower, the juices seeping down its pulsing rainbow stripe. Such an unattended discharge could have been a waste. But the purr of “…oh shit, inside,” from Stormy more than covered the bill. Her clit was slick, bursting with juices and lube, and Flitter finally felt like she'd taken the reigns in their relationship.
Still had to chat with Aloe about that bill’s payment, by the way.
But that wouldn't be for long after the knot-tipped dildo was pushed into the other end of Stormy’s pussy, squeezing against spongy skin. “Yesss….” Her hips jutted back, further and further to try and ride on that long leather length until her thighs gave out or her pussy muscles did. But each time, Flitter moved it to another part of Stormy’s spread lips, her favorite spot being the dip of Stormy’s quivering lips just above her tight ponut.
“Fuck… stop, this is… ooh, torture…” It was. But Flitter couldn’t help herself. Everything was so slick and clean and ready. So to assert herself this time, Flitter had to go for something Stormy didn’t expect.
Her hoof finally collected the juices gushing down Stormy’s thighs. And she hadn’t even cum yet! That’d be fixed soon, however. Little Cloudchaser was finally removed from Stormy’s cunny, a string of juice bending from its tip to Stormy’s cavern before snapping. And then Stormy let out a piercing howl as Flitter jammed it right into the hole above her pussy.
“Fuck, Flits! Fuuuuuuuc-” Then the stream of marecum jetting from Stormy’s thighs turned into a geyser. Flitter had grabbed the dildo, its knotted tip not even halfway locked around Stormy's tight hole, and laboriously retracted it. Further and further, each centimeter of that girth’s retracting rippled through Stormy’s body. Each time, the jet between her legs increased in intensity. And each time the spray restarted, another ‘fuckyesfuckyes” spilled from the frost-haired pegasus’ lips.
Stormy's limbs shook violently against her saddlebag’s straps, the stiff cubes of the carry-ons digging into her sides. But the sharp barbs of pain were delicious, numbed by the bliss of climax as Stormy shifted madly around them. Her fuck-fried mind was obsessed with using everything around her to drag out this never-ending orgasm.
All too soon, the flow reduced to a dribble. Stormwalker’s tongue dragged across her lips, still too mentally blitzed to turn her head back and thank Flitter. But her intended statement would prove premature. Flitter’s rummaging behind her stopped when one of her rearlegs finally jutted into focus at the periphery of her left eye. Stormy’s inch-long turn of the head revealed Flitter finally tightening the straps of Little Cloudchaser around her widely-spread hips. The dragonflies on her flanks were soon lost under bands of pitch-black leather.
The reason for such haphazard adjusting came when Flitter collected her forehooves together for something behind her legs, lifted one of them to reveal a ball of cloth, and jammed it into her frosty-maned friend’s mouth. Stormwalker's intended statement was chased away when she realized that oh god these were Flitter’s shorts. She moaned around them, wanting to suck on them like they were candy. But breath would soon be pounding out of her body as Flitter’s hips nestled against her own. Soon, in a way the ex-babysitter of Rumble could only envy, Flitter swiftly brought Little Cloudchaser home at last.
Flitter’s name – not the name of their lewd game, nor a way it could go better – bubbled out from Stormy’s lips and was turned into incoherent mush by the makeshift gag. Stormwalker’s brain was soon in the same state as the dildo passed every inch of her, sopping folds clamping down on it tightly. But Flitter’s task was easy this time, the combination of lube and leaking lust more than enough to ensure that seven inches of Little Cloudchaser nestled cozily in its pink prison. Pity there were still four more and a warming bulb to go.
The pity would soon be all Stormwalker’s, however. Flitter’s hips retracting would have summoned forth a storm of curses from the frosty-maned pegasus, but a snap of her leather-strapped hips later and suddenly the distance closed between girth and gash with instant results. It was Stormy’s hips that shot up this time, her scream around a mouthful of Flitter’s fabric ringing beautifully in her ears. Three inches now remained.
Her rhythm would bring that to one and a half, pumping in and out of the undulating Stormy with surgical precision. The bulb was smashing away just before Stormy’s womb-gate. Each time it hit, the fading orange in the skyline Stormy was looking at sideways exploded in sparks of white. Her bound arms were bouncing against her back, the delightful smacking only a beat behind that of Flitter’s thrashing hips into her own.
Not that she could hear it much, as Flitter’s pants of “Oh! Ah! Damnit! So warm! Why… is this… so warm!?” Stormchaser would have given an arm to tell her why the strapon-bound to her endlessly pistoning hips was giving off that blazing, prismatic glow. But she wanted this to be a surprise for her. Flitter deserved it. Flitter deserved to be surprised by her success, enough to want to do it again and again and-
”Mmmmm!” The feel of Little Cloudchaser as it mapped out her airtight canal made her want to break the bonds against them, brace her hooves on the floor and rut back against Flitter until the dildo cracked. It wasn’t long before Flitter showed her just why that not happening was a good thing. With one final bestial thrust from Flitter. Little Cloudchaser was buried in her wholly, crushed the lowered edge of the entrance to her womb, and released.
Flitter was too busy staving out her own climax as the heat between her legs turned supernova, stimulating her budding clit into spasms. But that was nothing compared to Stormwalker’s loins, her howls turning deafening as thick, rainbowed liquid spewed from the strapon, oozing into every nook of her vagina and jetting onto Flitter’s thigh. Soon, they were painted out in vibrant blues and greens, the rest of the release swirling into a glowing mess on the floor between their locked bodies.
It was too much for them both. As Flitter tried to pull out, still too crouched over Stormwalker to see just what splattered out of her, the Persian blue pegasus turned in her grasp. Still impaled on the dildo, Stormy got a hindleg out from between the flooded floor, corkscrewing herself on Little Cloudchaser in the process.
Swinging her limb so high it nearly smacked against Flitter's shoulder, the debauched Stormy finally spat out the wad of fabric once wedged around Flitter’s hips and yelled “Again!”
Flitter felt overwhelmed. Her hips were still twitching, and her eyes were still focused on Stormy’s gag-freed face. Sanity enough had reached her, though. “But Stormy, they’ll hear-“
“I didn’t cum! I need it, I need you, give it to me again!”
This was supposed to be my moment to shine! thought Flitter. But as Stormy’s pools of pink met Flitter’s, brimming with sparking desperation, Flitter finally understood. Stormwalker was surrendering to her. Flitter’s hips still burned with stress, but she braced them against Stormy’s neck, curled in closer, and thrust. This time, the muscles within Stormwalker gave fully, and that nineteen-inch dido pushed straight into her canal with the new angle. Even if only in mimicry, Stormwalker was being bred.
Stormy’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and Flitter captured her lips with her own, doing her best to keep their lovemaking from being heard. But it was so impossible to not give in: all of their senses were on fire. The wet squelching sounds of Stormwalker’s velvety snatch, the feel of Little Cloudchaser pulsing against Stormwalker’s lower belly on every thrust, the sight of their heaving hips as they smashed and slipped against one another in the prismatic grease. And finally, there was Stormwalker and Flitter themself, moans oozing into each others’ mouths like syrup, too lost in lust for words. This was too perfect.
Flitter’s lips departed that hot cave and sought Stormy’s neck, to mark her broodmare as she had to her a morning ago. But it instead caught a mouthful of shocking blue mane and Flitter’s hips bouncing against her friend made her jaw lock around the mane. Improvising, Flitter yanked herself up, twinned screams echoing from the highest precipice of the La Ti Da Spa as both of them rose with her latest thrust.
Then they kept going, their interlocked bodies reversing positions as Flitter’s back smacked into the floor. Stormwalker didn’t waste a second, hips a blur as she bounced up and down on the dildo and the Spectra-soaked pegasus beneath her. Finally, they were even in every way from this day’s start, Stormwalker in an obscene bend as Flitter split apart her cock holster with every buck.
Their lips met again, awkward as the bend between their thrashing bodies. Stormwalker was close, close to a feeling she’d had three times prior today, but she could see Flitter was eying the prismatic ponds around them with growing suspicion. She couldn’t risk Flitter stopping or freaking out! She needed to be bred, ballooned, poured fucking full of this Spectra! Needed this gut-busting release, even as the radiating heat of the Spectra-soaked shaft scorched at her loins and shot through her barrel like lava. So Stormwalker, jerking and shuddering around Little Cloudchaster, took Flitter up on that mock offer in the salon.
“Untie my arms! P-please!” Flitter all but tore those bands off her arms, the pain of it chafing at her limbs a faint memory as Stormwalker moved. Bracing her arms wide at either side of Flitter’s panting head, her flexible back bent back enough for her head to land next to Flitter’s own. The two pegasi kissed passionately, tongues tangling in a dance only slightly less feral than the ones their hips played.
Flitter’s final thrust brought Little Cloudchaser right next to her frosty-maned friend’s womb, and the last Spectra load in the toy battled with an equally furious tirade of marecum. Stormy’s belly rippled, then bulged with the force of the tool's firehosing. The spot between her legs was raw with the pleasure and heat from the wonderfully hot liquid rainbow pooling into it. Stormy’s womb was being pumped to capacity, and the after-effects were traveling up her entire body.
Swiftly, Stormy tore her lips from Flitters and keened, a stream of rainbow-tinted mist shooting from her maw into the sky. Some of those colorful contrails even wafted down the vents next to their bobbing bodies. This left Flitter with the lung capacity scream “Stooooormy-!” as her climax hit last, the phantasmagoric display before her enough to finish what the salon started. Her juices convulsed over dildo and derriere alike, the last feeble thrusts packing in the thick Spectra spunk into her friend’s abused cavern.
Both mares fell into the prismatic lake beneath them, the tool finally slipped free of Stormy's snatch. Stormwalker’s distending belly was still at triplet-carrying size, and her rolling off of Flitter was slightly appreciated by the green-haired mare. The contrast of the cooling Spectra soaking in her fur and the warm heat of the exhausted Stormy made her regret it instantly; words becoming increasingly common in Flitter’s verbal lexicon.
“Wanna… tell me…what all this is?” she asked Stormwalker, arms spreading to show the rainbowed rivulets around them. “None... of this… was in Cloudch… chaser during your last use, Stormy!”
Stormy, after several attempts, turned to face her. A dopey grin stretched almost as wide as her stomach. “I-haff! I didn’t just buy that thing for its… size! You can pack…. any liquid from Cloudsdale in there… ! Guess…. the Spectra… did a bit more…than the others…”
Flitter braced the elbows of her forelegs on the ground and pulled herself to her feet. Needless to say, their saddlebags were ruined, soggy patches of cloth now drifting in the rivers of rainbow spunk. “Luna’s crown, we’re both gonna be out of our own house within the week. How much di-did this cost?”
Stormwalker chuckled. “Not a damn thing.” At Flitter’s widening eyes, the pregnant-looking pegasus continued. “Y’weren't the only pony I wagered with today, Flits. Lotus bet me… if we could fuck loud enough for them to hear… that she’d pay double the bits that the Spectra and laminations set us back.”
Flitter’s eyes shot to the vent next to them, and suddenly, she was laughing. It was all so crazy! Everything they’d done and yet… Stormwalker pulled through. “Did… does this mean that-.”
“Nah, Flits… we’re cool, and I knew you’d win. Celestia, I loved every second of it though…” Stormwalker tried to get to her feet. “We… gotta go, though… no telling how much this mess on the roof will – ooh! - cost. Told you… I had this covered.”
It took Flitter’s two forelimbs to help Stormy roll to all fours, jiggling belly still well-packed with prismatic pools. Together, the two pegasi stumbled down the stairs, arms draped against each other to keep them both upright. Stormwalker’s squelching hips painted each of those jutting wood pieces red and orange.
The door back to the main hallway of La Ti Da, however, brought them face to face with the entire night shift of the spa, Lotus Blossom and Aloe tapping hooves before them. Flitter idly noticed the bag of bits piled high before them – and flustered expressions of the other patron ponies. Some were even clasping towels to their undercarriages, eyes as occupied with the walls as they were Flitter and Stormwalker.
If they kept a single bit from this fiasco, Flitter swore she’d invest in soundproof walls. For both this spa and their house.
“Um…it was Flit's idea?” offered Stormwalker, her sheepish grin soon following.
