> Swim Fast, Eat Ass > by ArDee > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Brawling Matilda > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This was where Gulfstream thrived. Out among the waves, in the vast blue expanse of the clearest coastal waters in all Equestria, the seemingly infinite beauty and tranquility of Coltstralia's waters called out to her, beckoning her to discover its secrets and lose herself in solitude. Movement from her periphery tickled the electroreceptors in her snout and snapped her focus back to the present; the flit of some small, colorful reef-fish inbetween the equally colorful, scraggly spires of coral filled her with equal parts wonderment and predatory lust. Scrunching her muzzle and shaking the conflicting duality of emotions out of her head, the mare kicked out with her webbed feet and slashed her powerful tail through the water, guiding her direction with her webbed claws as she rocketed past the rocky coral shelves, a blur of colors streaking past her as she reveled in her favorite environment. She knew her job as a marine biologist for the Crown would eventually draw her to some other far-flung corner of Equestria--or indeed, beyond its borders entirely--but she would always hold the reefs of Coltstralia in her highest regard. The rays of light sparkling through the waves and lighting the reef in errant patterns added to the dizzying, radiant spectacle of colors that dazzled her vision, and Gulf slid her eyes closed as she spread her membranous, fleshy wings and further immersed herself in the flow of the water around her, feeling out its disturbances and eddies and adjusting to maintain her course as straight and sharp as an arrow, just as a high-speed pegasus might feel out the air currents during flight. A sudden, discordant motion at the surface broke her from her ocean-induced nirvana, as the electroreceptors on her face blared an insistent notification of prey at her once more. This time, though, given the size of the disturbance she felt, she knew it could only be one thing. A pony had just entered her territory. Gulf probed further into what her front sensors were telling her, just as an oblong shape drifted above her and cast its shadow upon both her and the ecosystem below. 'A surfer!' She realized with an excited, predatory grin. Oh, those types were always so fun to play with...so athletic and confident, but they'd always hasten back to shore with their tails between their legs at the first glimpse of her dorsal breaching the coastal waters! The many reports of male surfers washing ashore ever since she'd come to town, unconscious, drained of energy, and with teeth-marks and torn holes adorning their wetsuits certainly had nothing to do with it...no sirree~! The hybrid shared a mischievous giggle with herself as she thought of all the entertaining headlines she'd been responsible for in the local news outlets, the land-ponies still being none the wiser as to the true culprit. Honing in on her latest target from below, the mare slowly swished her tail behind her as she used an outstretched arm to maintain direction, trying to keep out of the surfer's sight before the region's crystal-clear waters could reveal her approach. Dropping back a bit to get closer to the surface and gain a better view of her target, more and more details of the unwitting pony revealed themselves to her; first and most obvious was the X-shaped scar across her--she knew it was a her because of the jawline--left eye, one that made Gulf's thighs proverbially moisten as the sheer amount of badassery the surfer radiated hit her like a truck. The surfer mare's barely-there breasts, muscular chest, ripped washboard abs, and tantalizingly firm ass had Gulf salivating at the thought of digging in to those finely-honed curves, and the shining, slickened wetsuit she wore only added to her extraordinary sex appeal. Her deep purple coat, steely cyan eyes with just a hint of crow's feet belying her more mature age, and wispy, curly white mane all added to her standout appearance; she might not have fit the traditional model of beauty, but the surfer was more than attractive in her own right. Her black and neon green jagged-striped board, and matching-style wetsuit, reminded her of some local extreme sports troupe, but the name escaped her--and quite frankly, she didn't much care at the moment. All she knew was that it made the surfer stick out like even more of a sore thumb on the surface, all the easier to chase without having to give herself away too soon. Licking her lips, Gulf rose to the water's surface, her back facing the sky as she felt the cool onshore flow brush against her dorsal fin and the tip of her tailfin. The shark-mare held back a grin as she noticed the surfer glance over her shoulder and, once she noticed it, locking her gaze onto the blue-and-orange dorsal fin that was following her. "Ah, fuck me dead! I bloody hate this time'a year...maybe those reports from around here were true." Her thickly-accented voice echoed across the open water, down into the waves, and into Gulf's ears for the first time as the surfer muttered curses under her breath, sending another involuntarily aroused shudder down the shark-pony's spine at the deep, tomboyish gravel in her voice that only made the mare even more appealing. Gulf's brows knit as she saw the mare standing upright on her board, and in a moment of realization, she snapped her wings out once more to feel the ocean currents around her. 'Oh fu-' She couldn't even complete the thought before the wave base slammed into her head-on, sending the experienced swimmer reeling and tumbling through the turbulent wake. 'Rrrgh, dammit Gulfstream! Don't get distracted with fantasies before you've even got her locked down!' She cursed to herself as every part of her thrashed to regain control of her movements. It took a precious few seconds for her to arrest her motion, and in that time, focusing her electroreceptors confirmed her fears--the surfer had ridden that wave like a champion while she'd been sent tumbling away like a pup on their first hunt! 'Nopony out-swims a shark...I'm gonna remind this mare of who the real bigger fish is out here...' Gulf ignored the logical part of her brain that was saying her fuck-up was nopony's fault but her own, and instead focused her fresh bout of anger on catching up to the mare and giving her the righteous thrashing she deserved. Once she'd caught back up to the mare's tail and revealed herself once again, her ears perked when the surfer began speaking without even looking back at her. "G'day again, you bloody drongo. Ready for round two, cunt? I'll blast yer ass six ways to Sunday, or my name ain't Rolling Thunder the Washout!" Rolling's boisterous, self-assured words made her blood boil. How dare this little morsel call her the idiot when she was the one who'd stayed out when a shark was on her tail! Gulf snarled and thrashed her tail, kicking up a spray of seawater as she rapidly picked up speed, eyes locked on her target with predatory intent. The corded muscles across the surfer's body visibly tensed in preparation for the oncoming charge, but her glare change to wary, shift-eyed confusion when the shark-mare suddenly dived out of view in a flurry of bubbles. Glancing around revealed no obvious direction as to where the mare might have disappeared to. Rolling was given no more than a moment of wide-eyed realization before a large shape rocketed out of the water to her left side, corkscrewing towards her with membranous wings--wings?!--outstretched, a spray of water twinkling in the morning sun as the light shone off of the shark-pony's lightly-muscled, slender, nude form.`Ah, bugger me.' The surfer chastened herself, cursing her overconfident lack of observance. Light cyan eyes locked with the shark's vibrant purple hues for just a moment before the surfer was tackled clear off of the board, the entangled duo of predator and prey landing with a tremendous splash into the rolling waves. Gulf's breaching ambush had worked perfectly, but the hunt was far from over--with a sheila this lively and boastful, getting ahold of them was only half of the battle! She always did love taming the feisty ones... Gulf let out a strangled choking sound as the surfer karate-chopped her right in the gills that adorned both sides of her neck--unfortunately, her biggest and most glaring weak spot. A cloud of red sprayed from her gills and misted into the water around the duo as the shark-mare's senses wracked with agony, clenching at her neck gills and nearly going catatonic as Rolling smirked victoriously at her before kicking back up to the surface and wrapping an arm around her still-bobbing surfboard. Here, however, the overconfident Washout had made another mistake--letting the shark-mare out of her sight again. A brush of disturbed water against Rolling's kicking legs preceded an unexpectedly strong yank beneath the waves, and a painful sensation of pinpricks digging into both of her calves. The shark had grabbed her around the ankles, dug into her legs with her claws, and was pulling her deep below with rapid insistence, surely intent upon drowning her and dragging her back to her lair for an early-morning snack! Gulf's webbed claws dug into the fabric of Rolling's wetsuit with enough force to tear through it, sending pricks of pain lancing up her legs as the chill of the ocean crept into her compromised wetsuit. Her arms dragged uselessly as the speed and vigor of the shark-pony's swimming prevented her from overcoming the force of the water holding them back, and she felt an insistent, burning pressure in her chest as her vision started to blacken, brain screaming at her for a renewal of oxygen. Rolling was dimly aware, through the haze of her oxygen-deprived mind, of her motion slowing to a stop and the shark's conflicted, amethyst-eyed stare into her barely-cognizant cyan eyes, but the world around her snapped into focus as the shark-pony drew an arm around the mare's wetsuit-clad back and...pulled her into a rather insistent lip-lock! The haze of oxygen deprivation clouding her mind gradually faded as the shark-pony exhaled into her mouth, and Rolling quickly realized what the shark-mare was doing--somehow, she was able to give terrestrial ponies breaths while underwater by using her gills and exhaling into her! She had heard of the Hippocampi Queendom using magic to accomplish similar things for visitors before a formal transit system was established, but she had no idea that shark-ponies were capable of the same magical buddy-breathing system..though if she hadn't been at the mercy of a predatory pony that very much wanted to eat her right about now, she probably would've been a bit more enthused rather than frightened for her life. With the two mares so tightly intertwined, and with one of them now dependent upon the other for survival until they surfaced, the situation quickly mellowed from its previous antagonism, morphing into...something else due to the unbidden feelings that the intimate embrace stirred from both of them. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, the flames of wanton desire beginning to kindle between them as the shark's pointed tongue slid insistently into Rolling's soft, warm mouth, committing every area to memory as she forced her prey's barely-fighting tongue into submission. The surfer shuddered, her own hands beginning to wander across Gulf's enticing, delightfully slender and pale greyscale body as the sandpapery texture of her species' trademark placoid scales tickled through the mare's fur and scratched against her wetsuit. Gulf's scale-less, dark gray nipples stuck out like a sore thumb from her pale-gray, modestly endowed chest, and were the first target of Rolling's greedy, exploratory hands, pinching and tweaking them in a deliciously painful way that sent shocks of pleasure racing through her body, and a growl tearing out of her throat and into the other mare's mouth, her razor-sharp teeth lightly teasing and prickling at Rolling's invading tongue as it mounted a counterattack into Gulf's maw. The shark-pony's wandering claw traced the inside of the surfer's thigh as her other claw firmly gripped the mare's suit-clad ass, holding her firmly in their life-sustaining lip-lock, but all of her movements froze as her clawtips drifted towards the mare's crotch and came in contact with the positively enormous bulge the mare was sporting. Her excitement and incredulity increased exponentially as her claw just kept tracing further and further up, coming to a head at the base of the mare's sternum as the mare's rock-hard, partially-flared tool throbbed angrily underneath her wetsuit, grinding itself into its owner's chiseled abs and even slightly tenting the tight-fitting, firm spandex! The shark-mare's eyes widened in shock as the surfer's twinkled with self-assured smugness, and Gulf realized the true enormity of her situation; how hopelessly outmatched she was in a one-on-one grapple with this mare, as if the gill-strike she'd gone for in their second tussle hadn't been enough of an indication that Rolling knew a thing or two about tussling with sharks and their anthropomorphic ilk. 'Oh f-fuck...that's big...' Gulf thought, her mind racing in surprise and excitement as her digits mapped out Rolling's once-hidden mare-destroyer. She hadn't thought she'd ever catch a dickmare in one of her morning escapades, not even in her wildest fantasies! Renowned for their power, endurance, size, and virility, dickmares were among the most desirable mating partners in Equestria, able to pound three mares into a mattress in one night and keep right on going besides! It was, in Gulf's mind, an absolute travesty that any mare should have to settle for a stallion when such pinnacles of mating prowess walked amongst them in secret! The shark-mare teased a clawed finger down the length of Rolling's tool, feeling it throb eagerly beneath her touch as it screamed to be let out of its spandex prison. She quickly obliged the dickmare's needy loins, her finger wandering to the tented material near her flesh and piercing through it like a hot knife through butter, allowing seawater to intrude further into her suit and bathe her member in its relative coolness--sending the dickmare shuddering as she tightened her firm grip on Gulf's back. Rolling growled lustily into the other mare's mouth as they continued their war of tongues and shared breaths, prompting the shark to return a trilling growl of her own. Gulf dug her entire webbed hand into the hole in Rolling's jumpsuit and gave the edge of the material a firm yank, the spandex yielding instantly to her superior strength. The surfer's immense, angrily twitching breeding tool swung sharply downward into full-mast as it was released from its prison, throbbing as it leaked a barely-visible trail of cloudy pre into the surrounding ocean. Without any preamble, Gulf wrapped her smooth, soft-scaled palm firmly around it and began a slow, firm series of strokes along its length, taking care to prevent her claw-like nails from digging into the delicate flesh. Her mind boggled at her near-inability to encircle her fingers around its awe-inspiring circumference, having never seen such a well-endowed pony before in her life--then again, she'd never been with a dickmare before! The shark-mare's thighs leaked an invisible torrent into their surroundings, her libido driven to a fever pitch by the sheer heft of her latest pony plaything. The little pelvic fins that adorned the space above her reddened, swollen slit twitched eagerly with anticipation, and with a feral, lascivious single-mindedness brought on by her lust-addled brain, Gulf wrestled Rolling's foot-long tool into the ideal penetration position before promptly shifting her hips downward, all while reasserting her grip on the other mare's back. Her pelvic tins teased themselves along the surfer's abs as the thick, flared head of Rolling's shaft pressed insistently into her swollen and eager vent, which didn't resist for long with her body's inherent pliability and the ample lubrication afforded by her well-prepared sex. Gulf's mind flashed with stars as an itch that hadn't been properly scratched in weeks was finally sated, her powerful, swim-strengthened legs pushing insistently at Rolling's firm hips as Gulf brought the surfer into a leg-lock, the uncoordinated thrashing of the shark-mare's tail and their combined buoyancy now the only thing keeping the mating pair afloat. Gulf squeaked and squealed as she was impaled inch-by-blissful-inch onto Rolling's thick mare-destroyer, and she felt the surfer's lips tighten into an impish smile as their sustained lip-lock continued despite their rapidly intensifying fucking. Gulf's labia and lower abdomen bulged ominously as more and more of the surfer's thick maremeat fed itself insistently into her tight, eagerly clenching depths, making Gulf feel as if her brain was leaking out of her ears from how ridiculously amazing it felt. Her eyes rolled back into her head the moment the impossibly broad crown of Rolling's dick slammed itself into her tight, fleshy cervical entrance, the flood of both pleasure and pain overwhelming her brain and driving any hope of coherent thoughts out of her head. Rolling's grip around her tightened as she gave one last series of deep, jabbing thrusts before her persistence finally paid off, popping her broad cockhead through the shark's cervical opening and rooting herself deep within the mare's most sacred depths, pressing her heavy, throbbing balls into the space between the shark-mare's cloaca and tailbase and providing a delightfully intense added sensation for both of them. The two of them writhed in each other's arms as the heady, intense sensations overwhelmed them, crotches humping into each other on autopilot as the instinctual drive to procreate overcame conscious thought. The two of them were only barely capable of sustaining the elongated kiss that prevented Rolling from drowning, tongues writhing against each other aimlessly in an attempt to get more pleasure, more feeling, more satisfaction! The two femmes moaned deeply into each other's mouths as Rolling finally found her release at last, and goodness the virility of dickmares hadn't been exaggerated in the least. Gulf felt the scales of her belly start to shift and separate as the futa unloaded deep within her, in dramatic and intense fashion. Each titanic spurt blasted against her walls like a firehose and felt like it never ended, making her entire body go limp from pleasure. Rolling grabbed one last desperate breath as she felt Gulf's nervous system finally fail her, and slammed her own mouth closed to preserve what little air she still had as the two of them broke apart. The duo shuddered from the odd stimulation of pressure forcing out the buildup of combined fluids within Gulf's overstuffed vent, trails of milky essence erupting from their union as the dickmare continued to empty her overburdened balls within the shark-mare's eager entrance, no longer able to contain the constant flood as it flowed out of her tunnel and into the open ocean just as quickly as it entered. Gulf whimpered at the sensation, wishing she'd been able to better hold the dickmare's voluminous release and lamenting the loss of the warm, contended feeling it had given her. Her brain, still muddled and hazy from the afterglow, failed to register the frantic tapping of Rolling's fingers on her back for the first few seconds, and locking eyes with the mare caused her to notice it at last--she was no longer helping her breathe underwater! The feeling of drowsiness quickly left her as her mind snapped to its usual state of focused, predatory clarity, looping her arms around Rolling's chest as she put the full force of her powerful legs and tail into pushing the entangled pair those precious few feet up to the surface. The surfer breached the surface with a strangled, desperate gasp for air, face looking bluer than usual as she took in greedy gulps of the fresh air she'd been denied for so long. The air filtered out of the water through Gulf's specialized gills was a passable substitute for surface air in a pinch, but didn't hold a candle to the real thing in terms of oxygen content, especially since Gulf also had to have a share of that oxygen. With Rolling's lungs now full of fresh surface air and her body back to its full capabilities, she had no trouble looping her arm around Gulf's chest and dragging the shark-mare to shore, despite her weak-voiced, drowsy protestations and wriggling to try and escape. Gulf's neck-gills sealed themselves shut to protect the delicate organ as she was pulled, kicking and squeaking, out of the waves and onto the shore. Rolling collapsed to the soft, mushy, tide-dampened sands of the water's edge as she momentarily ran out of strength due to the exhaustive effort of dragging along over a hundred pounds of protesting shark-pony, but quickly found her footing again as she mare-handled the mare into a face-down laying position with her ass sticking out and her thick tail flopped to one side. "I've rustled more sheets than you could even dream of, you cheeky little aquatic root-rat! It's time to show you who the real queen of the ocean is!" Rolling growled in Gulf's ear before getting into a kneeling position behind her, pushing the side of Gulf's head into the mushy, damp sand of the receding tide with one hand and wrapping her other arm around the mare's thick multicolored tail. This position largely hid the couple's second impassioned mating session from the eyes of would-be onlookers, were it not for their combined motions making it blatantly obvious what the two were doing regardless. Thankfully, though, the beach was deserted aside from the two of them, and likely would be for a while still, considering it was early morning in the middle of the workweek. "Mmh...AH~! Fuck yes! Root me into the fuckin' sand, you bloody wild-mare!" Gulf shouted passionately, bracing her knees into the wet sand beneath her and rocking with the dickmare's full-length, impassioned thrusts as they ruthlessly ground against every sweet-spot inside her and popped furiously in-and-out of her seed-slickened, loosened cervix, her body still far from recovered from their underwater rutting moments prior. Rolling growled as the sensitive, fleshy underside of her glans ground against the muscular ring of Gulf's cervix on every out-stroke, the intense shocks of pleasure from each thrust driving her to thrust deeper and more rapidly with each passing moment. Before long, the dickmare's tip-to-base, asscheek-rippling, fur-on-scales-smacking thrusts evolved into rapid, balls-deep jabs that drove Gulf utterly wild with pleasure, trilling out a variety of incoherent, joyous, and delightfully feral growls, squeaks, and grunts as she spasmed and writhed in the sand. "Crikey, yer a bloody good lay..." Rolling growled through clenched teeth, already feeling her release nearing once more despite having already cummed a bucketful into the shark-pony during their underwater tryst. This time, though, there'd be no seawater to help empty her out when Rolling stuffed her full. And that moment arrived with haste; the dickmare's eyes rolled in their sockets as she slammed into the back of Gulf's womb and held herself there, grinding her pliable, spongy cockhead against the overwhelmed little predator-pony's cum-glazed uterine walls. Gulf screeched in ecstasy as her most base of instincts was sated by her absurdly well-hung mate, turning her roaring beast of libido into a mewling kitten in mere moments. Indulgent and scandalous visions of her future danced through her head as she felt her scaled belly swell against the wet sand, imagining herself heavy with a healthy clutch of pups sired by the irresistible dickmare of her dreams. A beast of the seas like herself being tamed by someone who tangled with the ocean's dangers on a near-daily basis; it sounded like something from her wildest and most desperate nights of fantasy, or from a trashy interspecies romance novel that catered to her kind, and such pleasant thoughts accompanied her as she drifted off into an immeasurably content post-coital nap. "The boyos back at the Washouts clubhouse are gonna love you, li'l fishie..." Rolling grunted as she hefted the fucked-stupid, sodden, cum-bloated sharkpony over her shoulder, strolling casually towards the beach parking lot, uncaring of her shredded wetsuit, full-frontal nudity, and the imposing horsecock swinging between her legs, nor the fact that she'd left her board behind. "Bring it, you old bogan..." Gulf growled playfully in rebuttal as Rolling's teasing dragged her out of her drowsiness, but then squealed with indignant surprise and snapped into full alertness as Rolling gave her a firm, loud swat on her scaled ass. "Yipe!" "Mmh, you're going to be making a lot more of those sounds once we're done with you, you naughty little shark-sheila...if you think I'm a handful, just wait'll ya meet mah mate Lightning Dust!" "You're tellin' me there's two dickmares in that crew of yours? F-fuck me..." Gulf swore under her breath, prompting a self-satisfied chuckle from Rolling as the buff mare shrugged off her heavy cargo, popped open the decklid of her sporty modern ute, and offered her a large beach towel in the Washouts color scheme. "That's the plan, ye feisty cunt! Now, towel off some'a that seawater, lay the towel on the seat, and hop in...we've got places to be!" Rolling commanded, holding open the passenger door as the shark-mare finished toweling herself off. Gulf rolled her eyes, but did as the other mare told her. Shuffling awkwardly in the ute's sporty seats as she fumbled for a place to rest her tail, she wryly commented on the choice of vehicle as Rolling got into the driver's seat, "Hah! Guess you really are a bogan after all~!" Rolling scowled playfully and lightly punched the mare's arm. "Oi, piss off!" She scolded with an edge of mirth, chuckling lightly. "Make me, you fuckin' booogan~!" "Right, that's it! Mmmph!" The two of them never even made it out of the parking lot.