Intense Workout
The gym was packed that day, although, considering the inclusion of the academy, it was hard to remember a day when it wasn’t. Ponies galloped alongside gryphons on the treadmills, hippogriffs lifted weights in competition with young dragons whilst yaks and changelings openly communed on their way to the showers. And, with such a sheer deluge of fitness-minded individuals concentrated in one place, it also meant an incomprehensible amount of spandex. The aesthetic of a toned pair of glutes shifting around in such form-fitting packaging was an easy target for ogling from the more shameless participants of the facility. As were the bulging muscles of the bodybuilders in their pursuit of gains and the sweat covered bodies of those heading to the showers – the spandex rendered all but ineffective at covering much of anything once wet. Yet of all the stallions, mares, gryphons, hippogriffs, yak, and dragons, there was one particularly unique specimen amongst them all...
On one of the occupied treadmills, running at a brisk pace, was Equestria’s only human. None knew how he ended up here, and neither did he. Yet, despite awakening in a foreign world with alien races and magic, he took it all in stride. Pun intended. His name was Chance, and as a non-gryphon awakening in Griffonstone, it would have appeared he forced into a new life without one. And through a series of circumstances that are too varied and random to cover succinctly, he found himself both a business owner and a boyfriend. Although, fidelity in this world, as he soon discovered, did not adhere to the same strict, rigid ties he was familiar with in his past life. Still, he was rather happy all things considered. He had his own book store, his very own girlfriend and he was healthy – his frequent visits to the gym insured that. Contentment was hard fought for on Earth. Now? He could smile without a lingering thought of debt or geopolitical troubles brewing at the back of his mind. Still, regardless of each change in circumstance, that was hardly the last alteration he experienced. Chance’s chance encounter with poison joke resulted in a sudden acquisition of… virility.
Chance wasn’t particularly tired despite running for so long although he had certainly worked up a sweat, his t-shirt hugging well-toned torso. Whilst many by now had gotten used to his unusual, largely hairless shape and bipededness, there was something about him that still caught those off guard whenever they passed by him. It wasn’t the mop of hair atop his head, the energy in his eyes or his fit body. Rather, a cursory glance downwards from his waist revealed the presence of an eye-widening bulge that not even two layers of clothing could suppress…
Rolling and shifting around in the front of his shorts as he ran was the obvious outline of the human’s impressively thick tube steak, resting atop a pair of potent testes. Their movement was almost hypnotic, too large to ignore and be restrained by the snugness of his shorts and boxers. Only the human had an organ brazen enough to be so on display despite clothing, sheath-less yet of a size that would imply imminent intimacy. It would be one thing if he were just a stud, the looks would he’d receive alone would’ve been shameless. However, his mystique combined with his outwardly kind demeanour actually made others reluctant to give him salacious gazes. It was hard to be an object of lust when said ‘object’ was one of the most amicable faces in town. His kindness was contagious to an extent, which is what halted my of those interested in him from being too forward in their advances. However, without fail, each proposition forwarded to the human was put down gently by him. From the curvaceous to the stocky, the lithe and husky, to those you’d be downright stupid to turn down, found their flirts or directness ineffective. This had merely contributed to the notion of his chasteness and thus, his kind character. Little did they know...
Chance caught a few gazes out of the corners of his eyes but did not meet them, actually preferring them to stare than to approach. You see, Chance wasn’t necessarily abstinent or solely loyal to his girlfriend. Rather, there was a secondary consequence to the poison joke aside from a slight upgrade in size. Catching the reddened face of a scurrying gryphon female triggered a particular memory in his head, of the first time he utilised his thickened and elongated fuckmeat on another.
He recalled her amber eyes meeting him as he cupped her soft feathered cheek, her tongue lovingly glazing his leaking pink cap as it emerged from her opened beak. She was enamoured with its large size, vocal in fact, as she cooed and revered his fleshy pike with all the zealous fervour she could muster. He remembered groaning, his thighs tensing as his fingers felt up and squeezed the top of her head. It was supposed to be a sign of approval for her oral efforts but thinking back on it, it didn’t seem enough. Her long, energetic tongue insured that not a single inch of his cock was left dry. Glistening, diamond-hard and throbbing, she finally plunged herself face first down every single inch of his impressively sized fleshly column. His hips bucked in response, hitting the back of her throat as she forced it down the rest of the way; completely swallowing his vascular pipe.
It was no surprise then that his balls retracted and his body seized, her eyes widening as she felt the first blast of a jizz rope run down her throat, the slimy line of cum on a course for her stomach. Despite liking the fact the flowers gave him an increase in size he never once, for lack of a better word, ‘tried’ it. It was only when his balls were touching her chin did he finally feel the sensation of his oversized cum churners pump a beyond-fecund volume of semen up his python. Flex after flex, throb after throb, the griffon impaled on his cock could barely swallow down all he was giving. Yet, although he didn’t notice personally, his brain did. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head, her body quivering in delight as she gleefully gulped down his dense protein shake. He didn’t count the number of pulses, the number of times his sack lifted and fell to pump more of his batter into her. It wouldn’t have mattered much really. Only that she drank it all, and there was quite a lot of it.
The subsequent events were permanently emblazoned in his memory and what deterred him from taking advantage of the loose definition of a ‘relationship’ here. Chance was fully prepared to return the favour right after, panting and refractory period aside, however, something he could never have predicted occurred.
She was vocal about the first symptom. A vague and cryptic description of ‘tingles’, which she rather enjoyed the sensation of – ‘rather’ being an understatement. Rolling onto her back, her wings still hugging her sides, she was quick to plunge one of her talons right to the base as she started to finger-fuck her soaking twat. Her other hand was focused on her chest, her plumage rather, rolling her hand across her chest, seemingly fondling nowt. Chance looked upon the scene with furrowed brows but not necessarily disapproving, his shaft immediately rising back to attention as he longed to replace her finger with an appendage of his own. Yet, he was halted, by the second symptom.
Right before his very eyes, he witnessed a transformation. Not spiritual or metaphorical but literal. Her body started to warm and he could only watch in a partial mix of horror, confusion and arousal as the area she massaged with her taloned hand exploded outwards suddenly with the arch of her back, a pair of deliciously sized breasts emerging from her light brown plumage. They were each capped with a bright pink nipple that she knew instinctively to tweak and tug at, moaning on with zero care for what was happening to her. Those same talons that groped her soon thinned out, becoming more nubile as the limbs they were attached to lost feather mass in trade for muscle, sinew and bone – looking distinctly more human to Chance’s eyes. Her cat-like hind legs elongated, her thighs thick yet toned as she also acquired calves, which attached to newly plantigrade paws. She acquired a flat fluffy stomach, fertile hips that would be the envy of any woman back on Earth and a slightly elongated neck so that she could look down and marvel on her new form. But she wasn’t alone.
Chance’s eyes were wide, his jaw had fallen but his cock had never been harder. She was gifted with an athletic body, with toned arms, legs and stomach, yet possessed the best possible aspects of femininity possible, with her large thighs and soccer-ball sized tits. When the transformation had stopped she withdrew her finger, using it then to beckon Chance as she spread her thighs wide apart as a salacious grin came to her face...
The effects were temporary, fortunately – or unfortunately – her libido likely sourced from the high of the event. He did always wonder why she didn’t immediately start screaming but he supposed being horny and given a new form to fuck around with – literally – would be motivation enough to put it to use right away. Needless to say, Chance risked having his pelvis broken that night when she insisted upon fucking far into the night. Whilst the transformation was temporary, he discovered that on subsequent, uh... feedings? She could assume the form once more. Luckily it also didn’t appear that his semen was addictive like he had read in a few of those lewd stories and comics back home – for research purposes, a-assuredly. She enjoyed draining him dry but she’d sometimes prefer a fresh, potent load in her pussy over her stomach from time to time...
He stopped the treadmill. He realised that he had lingered in his own mind and memories too long. So, rather guiltily and adopting a slight hunch, he made his way to the showers; ready to wash away his accumulated sweat and shame. Waddling away, it brought him back to sanity. His semen was magically tainted, and there was no telling what it could do to the next pair of lips that suckled it down. So whilst he knew there were many fully willing to gobble down on his half-hard meat, he didn’t want to risk any negative effects on the next mare who tried it, if there ever was a next mare…
That was foreshadowing by the way.
Shortly after he disappeared into the changing room, two mares – who weren’t put off by his awkward, erection-hiding waddle – shared a knowing look with the other. Their sultry smiles and smouldering gazes made their intent clear as they made their move, their wide hips swaying as they made a slow approach towards the changing room…
Meanwhile, Chance couldn’t get out of his clothes any faster! Packing his sweat ridden shirt and shorts into a gym bag, he apprehensively stared at the final garment. He looked at the resilient material with tight lips, his cock and balls squeezed within. Pulling down his tight underwear his cock slapped against his large balls in some obscene high-five, his wrist-thick semi flopping free with the yanking down of his elastic shorts, experiencing both partial relief and embarrassment at the sight of his hefty sceptre. The blue veins that networked along the length of his virile tusk were pushed to the surface of his turgid skin, a rush of piping hot blood swelling them, hardening his fat pulsing cock against its owner’s wishes. Chance’s face screwed to the side. Frankly, he was just happy to be free of such a compressed prison, even if he wasn’t exactly pleased of its state post-emancipation – he was also left confounded by the homoerotic lingering of his thoughts on the throbbing manhood, choosing instead to put a pin in it and hurried towards the shower block with his partial erection smacking against his thighs…
He was thankful for an empty changing room, glad for a stare-free shower session as he walked under one of the holey nozzles. As he prepared to turn on the water, he let out a weary sigh, mentally preparing himself for the cascade that was about to fall over his head. Getting it over with, she turned the tap.
Shhhhhhhh
The sound of running water may as well have been a half-finished expletive. Chance’s eyes bulged from his head as he hopped in place. “Cold, cold!” he yipped, teeth chattering as the cold water shocked the salacious memories from his mind and tamed his cock back into a state of softness. But not even the cold could subdue its size, the flaccid erection as soft as the average human was hard. When his erection died down he promptly upped the temperature, expelling a relieved breath when the water became warm.
He spent the next few minutes washing his smooth, chiselled body of its accrued sweat and grime, letting out a contented sigh when all that remained after his workout was the satisfying ache of his muscles, which also faded once soothed by a combination of the therapeutic heat and gentle scrubbing. After a few minutes and a sufficient cleansing – both mental and physical – he left the shower, dripping wet and content.
He used one of the provided towels and wrapped it tightly around his waist, plodding back to the changing room. It was still conspicuously empty, almost conveniently so, as he approached his locker. Upon opening it, he groaned, at the sight of his socks and shoes, slamming it shut and pivoting on his heel with his eyes peeled to an accusatory glare.
“I already told you this, Spike. I’m not going to walk around naked, I don’t care if everyone else does it!” he exclaimed, prepared for the dragon to scamper out any minute with his clothes – fresh and dirty – at any minute.
However, from behind the opposing set of lockers, two familiar faces emerged. Chance’s eyes slammed wide open at their appearance, shocked into being still. He recognised both the mares instantly, although he had never been in their company in such a situation before. Both mares - one Earth pony, the other a Unicorn - were adorned in gym-wear, with banana yellow tops and black latex bottoms. One of the mares was Cup Cake, who he saw only a week back, heading inside her store to treat himself to a large blueberry muffin. She inquired about the gym, knowing he was a frequent visitor to its facilities. She was quite insistent about it in fact and Chance was none the wiser to her true intentions. In hindsight, he knew his suspicions about her only half-listening to the regimen he suggested but he could never have predicted this as being her true motive. The same was extended to the mare beside her, Cookie Crumble, who just happened to be at the boutique as Rarity was taking his measurements. Whilst Rarity maintained an air of professionalism – not all ponies being horn dogs after all – it was Cookie who continuously bombarded him with personal questions, the situation forcing him to answer every single one, none the wiser to her salacious motive.
From that point on he saw them regularly in the gym, and apart from a nod of recognition he rarely interacted with them beyond that, just happy that he helped to swell membership numbers. Now instead of a cordial nod, they both were like motley pair of technicolour Medusas, their devious eyes directing some sort of mysterious power in his direction – only it was obvious they desired only one part of him to become hard as stone. It amazed him that their eyes were openly undressing him despite how little he already wore, their libidos so intense as to permeate in the air. When he finally made a movement in the form of his eyes flicking between their smiling faces, they pinched their bottom lips between their flat teeth, stopping a few feet away from him to continue ogling him up and down with shameless leers. Even though they came only as high as his stomach, right now their sheer presence had them tower over him, keeping him still.
“Uh, w-what are y-you t-two doing here? This area is for g-guys,” he informed with stammer-ridden words, crossing his arms defensively as an awkward simper came to his face. “But you clearly knew that already.”
“My, my, my! You were right, Cookie. He looks even better without a shirt on,” remarked a sultry Cup Cake, glancing towards her purple-maned cohort.
“Watching my daughter work does have its share of benefits, I must admit,” Cookie replied with the same level of salaciousness, directing a boring stare at the man’s crotch before looking up at his face, grinning brazenly. “Big benefits.”
Chance met her smile with a sheepish simper, not quite sure what to do on the receiving end of such directed lewdness and innuendo. “I-is there something I can help you two with?” he asked, reluctant, his hands instinctively reaching for the hem of his towel to grasp it tightly. “Cardio? Weights? Maybe even nutritional advice-”
“Stretching,” she replied, a purr sounding from her coy grin as she took a step closer toward him.
“Intense stretching,” emphasised Cup Cake, similarly shrinking the gap between the human and herself. “Maybe squats if you become too tired to stand.”
“Uh…” a single toned admission of his forced innocence sounded from his throat, looking between the pair of mares as a cold bead of sweat ran down the side of his cheek, his fingers clasping even tighter around the towel. “I t-think I need my clothes for that.”
“Trust us. You don’t,” smirked Cookie, waggling her eyebrows.
Cup Cake smirked, giving his waist a quick point with her hoof. “We can get started right away once you drop that towel. Give us a look at that meat-log you’re so clearly packing. You know, it’s one thing to be hung like a stud and not share the fun...”
“But not using it at all? A tragedy!” finished the pink shaded mare, her hoof coming to her head in a display of theatrics – at least Chance knew which side of the familiarity Rarity inherited it from.
Their back and forth was like an intense tennis match. Chance was getting close to being overwhelmed by their vocal back and forth. “S-so you’ve heard?”
“Who hasn’t? If it weren’t for the fact you’re so friendly, I know a lot of ponies who’d think you’re being a massive tease.”
“So since you haven’t had the delight of going balls deep in any prime Ponyville pussy…”
“Let us have the privilege of popping your cherry,” offered Cookie.
“But aren’t you two married? Isn’t this betraying both of your husbands?” he asked, trying to appeal to their sense of morality – he knew immediately from their nonplussed faces that it was a fool’s gambit.
“Marriage isn’t supposed to be a prison, Chance. We love our husbands very much,” replied Cookie, disappointment flashing on her expression at Chance’s implication.
“So much that we don’t limit them to just our bodies,” added the other mare, a tinge of pink coming to her cheeks. “In fact, just last week, Mr Cake was stuffing Derpy’s muffin with his signature white cream over the kitchen counter.”
“I know for a fact that it’s very flavourful. Densely thick and wonderfully creamy,” Cookie backed up, giggling lewdly into her hoof, a cheeky grin appearing on her muzzle when her hoof dropped back to the floor. “And my husband was showing Mrs Rich how to make effective use of his baseball bat. From what I hear, she does an astounding impression of a small mitt stretching around a fat, vascular... hoof.”
“She did a very good job of handling your husband’s baseballs didn’t she?” Cup Cake said with a smirk, sharing a sly look with Cookie.
“Jesus Christ…” Chance spoke under his breath, his face adopting yet another bright shade of pink. He was about ready to faint from all the blood rushing to his head.
“In fact, just a month ago, we even swapped husbands for a night – made a date of it,” Cookie gleefully admitted, wearing a knowing smile, biting her bottom lip in Cup Cake’s direction.
The mare met it with a lusty flutter of her eyes, licking her bottom lip on some carnal reflex. “Now I know why Cookie is limping when we meet up for brunch on Sundays.”
“And I know why they open their shop so late in the day – more than just cakes are being stuffed in the back. It usually takes hours,” Cookie stressed with a toothy grin, rubbing her thighs together at some memory Chance had no desire for her to elaborate on.
“If there’s just one thing Cookie and I have in common, it’s that we’re both insatiable,” Cup Cake admitted proudly as she looked at the mare beside her, “when our husbands are sharing the bed with someone else we have to find somepony else to satisfy our needs.”
“Well, somebody else. We don’t discriminate – a cock is a cock,” clarified Cookie, starting to salivate at a memory entering head, “You’ve never felt true heat until you’ve been double stuffed by a dragon’s twin dicks.”
“Or what it feels like to be truly full until you’ve been split open by a gryphon’s knot,” added Cup Cake.
“So we’re curious what humans have going for them. Want to demonstrate?” Cookie asked, winking.
“Listen, ladies, you’re both very attractive but I don’t think this is a good idea!” he advised, trying to force himself to smile. He hoped a simple turning down would be good enough. Elaborating on why he didn’t want to spill his cum anywhere near them was something he didn’t want to become common knowledge around town.
“Well, if you’re not up to it, we’d be content with just a look,” suggested Cup Cake, looking to Cookie with a curled lip.
“Yes, at least let us see what we and the rest of Ponyville are missing out on, please?” requested the other mare, pouting.
“Pretty please?” Cup Cake wore an excessive frown, but the tugs of her cheek betrayed the humour hiding beneath it.
Chance simply blinked, baffled. That was a lot to take in. Like, an astounding amount of information. Two nympho MILFs were trying to get into his pants... erm, towel. A dream to many others – he couldn’t fathom the number of stallions who’d deliver a swift punch to his face for even thinking about denying them – but the situation was a veritable nightmare for him. Still, he sighed wearily. It might have been a trick of the dick but technically, he didn’t have to do anything with them physically, just show them the goods. That’d be it, right? A quick flash and he could leave. Of course, he was acting willfully ignorant to the fact that in such scenarios – especially in the numerable fap material he encountered over the years – it never stops at just a peek. He could hear the porno music already! Still, he held onto the belief that there was still some vestige of hope, as dumb as the notion was.
“So... I show you my dick and you’ll give me my clothes back?” he asked, his tone sounding just like he felt: weary.
“Just a peek,” Cookie confirmed with a nod, squinting an eye and holding up her hood, her smile innocent.
“And nothing else,” he amended, looking between them sternly with pursed lips. “Don’t come closer, don’t touch, don’t do anything. This is a one and done deal, alright?”
“Oh, we hear you,” confirmed Cup Cake, sharing a mischievous grin with the mare beside her before they settled their eyes back on him. “We’re ready when you are.”
Obviously, a plan was forming in their heads but Chance was confident whatever it was he would easily counter with his superior... above average... middling, intellect. With a screwed up face, he opened his hands, feeling the towel land in a heap around his feet...
The reaction from them was immediate.
Cup Cake was subdued, a sincere flush of pink rushing to her cheeks as her eyes opened wide as they landed on his bald groin, whispering, “Oh, Sweet Celestia…”
Cookie Crumble in comparison…
“Look at the size of that dick!” she exclaimed, smiling like a mad mare.
Chance braced himself for the incoming tide. He had only himself to blame after all – he broke the dam.
“He’s flaccid right? It’s as thick as my fetlock!”
“My jaw’s aching from just looking at it.”
“And look at his balls! Paint them red and you could easily mistake them for apples. He’s almost as huge as Big Mac!”
“How full do you think those cum tanks are?”
“I don’t know for sure but they’re heaving. They probably haven’t been drained in a long time.”
“I think each one might have enough to fill our wombs three times over! I think somepony needs to drain the ol’ hose, huh?”
He realised right away that their ‘plan’ wasn’t so much directed at him at it was his member, which may as well have been another person in the current predicament. Whilst Chance was a humble human, even a little shy, his cock certainly was not. Heaps of praise only emboldened the thick organ, and with their reactions of awe – sincere or exaggerated, he could not tell – he already felt the heat of lust begin to stir between his legs.
“Oh, look – it’s growing,” Cookie Crumble sounded like a giddy filly at the sight.
“Ooh, so it gets even bigger?” Cup Cake sounded fascinated, her eyes glinting with carnality as she inspected the swelling organ.
Stay. Soft. He tried to command it mentally but if there was one thing all males across all species could share in a kindred union, it was the problem of the rebellious erection. Under their gaze, strong palpitations throbbed the vein-ridden python, his considerable length swelling with the rapid rush of hot blood.
“Half-hard and he could cram any of your holes shut with that thing.”
“I’ve seen stallions with huge dicks and stallions with huge balls. It’s not often you find one with both!”
Growing harder under their widened eyes, his perception forced him to acknowledge more things about the mares he tried his best to ignore. Both mares, having given birth to two wonderful foals each, giving them the ‘MILF’ factor, which meant more than just a mother worth fucking. Chance saw that in such tight spandex, the size of their hips and ass were emphasised to a ridiculous degree and his imagination rebelled out of his control. He couldn’t help but imagine peeling the tight leggings down from both their thick ass mounds, their tails flagging to the side to reveal their tight wrinkled ponuts and a pair of large, plump mare slits eagerly winking for his third leg to plunge balls deep into both of their awaiting cunts. But other than their similarly proportioned rears, his brain forced him to pick up more subtle or overt differences to justify his elongated cock.
First was Cup Cake. She didn’t quite lose all of the baby weight, leaving her a bit husky in the frame. Although rather than make her look unattractive, she possessed just the right level of chub – enough to encourage his chub anyway – to thicken almost instinctually at such a healthy looking mare. A primeval-worthy plot to sow plenty of babies into although he wasn’t quite so primitive… they had birth control now. He could picture his fingers sinking into her excess of flesh as he aimed his cock towards her twitching fuck canal with his free hand. Forcing himself to look at Cookie didn’t yield any better results. He got the inkling she was a frequent exerciser even before the gym. Her body was tight, perfectly proportioned, which much like the spandex wrapping her rear like a Christmas present, only helped to emphasise the roundness of her butt and the wideness of her hips. Another trait both mares shared was their motherly faces. The slight hint of age, their gentle roundness which when combined with the lewd grin and aroused gazes they both held, created a flame smouldering contrast that made Chance’s over-productive cum churners almost retreat into his body from the sheer force of their clench.
“Please stop,” was his swan song, a final whimpering plea and his last chance to get out of the situation completely unscathed with the exception of major blue balls. Although whilst his lips spoke, his body had already resigned itself, his lust ignited.
For the first time, the mares before him were rendered speechless from the full length of Chance’s obese mast. The bright pink crown of spongy skin that bulged out from the thick zenith of Chance’s fuck pillar left them both licking their lips. It pulsed in a reliable rhythm, thickening for a moment with each throb as his body focused all its efforts on supplying the immense thickness of Chance’s pride with all the blood it needed – swaying gently after each throb, it’s impressive size implying an equally imposing weight. The added bit of titillation to the obscene prong was the jostle of his large, rotund spheres with each involuntary twitch, his plumpy orbs eager to squirt from the smouldering pipe. It was a monster in all aspects, yet the two mares didn’t look the slightest bit scared – the exact opposite in fact...
“Sit on the bench,” commanded Cookie, looking up at Chance, dead serious.
“Now,” ordered Cup Cake with a growl, similarly glaring.
“Haha…” he laughed meekly, joining his body in submission to them. They didn’t just look like mothers – they were! So they were able to employ their naturally stern tones to scold him to do anything they desired! Or, at the very least, he used as an excuse was for why his feet were carrying him over to the long bench that ran down between the numerous lockers. He was too horny to care at that point to imagine anything good to justify why he was going along with their demands...
Naturally, due to the very large protrusions in the way, his legs immediately spread when he plopped his rear down on the seat. The image it produced was a naturally alluring sight. His up-angled cock allowed the rivulets of his essence to run down the thick-skinned length of his fuck pipe, running over his veins only to meet at his rotund orbs at the base. Sitting there, hands on his knees and his head lost in through, his mind proposed the possibility that his cum wouldn’t cause any adverse effects on the mares and that he had nothing to worry about. His other mind, the one eagerly crying thick globs of pre, just wanted to drain his entire sack down both of their throats, providing them with enough cum to keep them sustained for a few days, the possible side effects be damned! He didn’t wish to ponder the duality of man at that moment, not when the two mares neared him, his heart pounding like a hammer against his ribcage.
Cookie’s nostrils flared as she stopped at his right knee. She inhaled his natural odour. Although free of sweat, the dense aroma of his liquid musk quickly became thick in the air, gusting its way into her inhaling nostrils. Her body quivered after a lungful, a delighted grin on her muzzle. “So masculine.”
“I can’t wait until we’re covered in his stink,” commented Cup Cake as she stopped at his left, chewing her lower lip, “I want to show off that we were the first to fuck the human.”
The shameless vulgarity elicited a twitch from his swollen cock, squeezing out a fresh bead of his pre from his cumslit. Both mares eyed the droplet, sharing a look with one another, taking part in a wordless conversation that Chance wasn’t privy too. His heart raced in his chest all the while, too fast for his twitching dick to keep up with, fiery blood making the skin along his shaft tight as it filled his plump purple veins. He held his breath when Cup Cake settled his hoof on his thigh, coming close enough to him that Chance could feel her warm breaths glance off the tip of his dick. He had nowhere to look but her eyes as she made her slow advance towards him, her large lips coming to a stop a mere inch away from his beating masculinity, where she reacted to the blue tinge of his cheeks with an impish smile. Then, coinciding with another fat droplet of pre from his bright pink dome, her tongue shot forth past her smiling lips to make contact with the bulbous crown.
Chance curled his toes at the sensation, her wet muscle moving around in slow swirls around the sensitive glands of his phallus, failing to stifle a moan behind his lips as he finally allowed himself to breath. It had been so long that he couldn’t be sure of how long he would last but now he was committed, he diverted all of his will to not cumming from mere licks alone. At his taste, her throat produced sultry moans, which in turn travelled along with her tongue and straight down his cock, making his apple-sized orbs flex at the strange but welcomed sensation. Leaning on his thigh and brushing a loose strand of her pink mane behind her ear, her jaw lowered as she inched her neck forwards. Chance felt his stomach tighten when she enveloped his pink mushroom cap with her lips. It was like getting his cock hugged by a cloud, her lips clamping down just below the ridge of his crown, forming a seal as she began to suck at his wrist-thick straw like it was a cup of soda; her tongue lashing at his swollen glands all the while.
“Ah,” Chance breathed, his hips twitching in place, torn between driving the rest of his boa constrictor down her tight gullet or just letting her work her tongue magic. From their prior enthusiasm, he knew she wouldn’t stop him from pursuing the former. She would gladly choke herself and stretch out her poor throat just to accommodate his cock. Seeing the mascara run down her cheeks would be a tincture of well deserved payback but revenge never settled for long in his heart. Forgetting the potential consequences, he just wanted to enjoy himself, his dick twitching between her lips. He wouldn’t intervene.
“How does he taste?” asked Cookie, her cheeks flushed as she watched her friend work with open envy.
Cup Cake didn’t reply at first, too lost in the act to respond. “I could… drink from… his cock… all day…” she answered between groans and zealous licks, only stopping fully once she needed to take a breath, looking to Cookie with an encouraging half-smile. “He really is full to bursting. I think I can taste some cum.”
“That is so...” Cookie trailed off in her remark, eyes drawn to the throbbing organ, licking her lips.
She didn’t need to a say word. The demure kiss she planted on the tip of Chance’s cock was all the lauding she needed to justify joining her friend in orally worshipping hoof-shaming thickness of his lust-swollen prick. Chance hissed a moan through his teeth, knowing with full certainty he had never had two tongues on his member before now. His thighs were forced even further apart as the two mares crammed themselves in the space between them to grant themselves greater access to his manhood. Their energetic tongues dragging all over his inch of flesh they could get to, their tongue-tips following the blood-ripe veins and catching every dewdrop of his precum. It was a constant stream of pleasure up Chance’s spine, coiling the spring in his abdomen tighter and tighter. Cup Cake was the more enthusiastic of the two by far, lapping at his dickflesh like it was a lollipop. Cookie Crumble distinguished herself with precision, flicking at his length in just the right places to make him shiver with ecstasy. Regardless of their differing styles, it wasn’t too long after they began to lap at his dick was it soon entirely wet with saliva and smeared pre.
His hands soon latched themselves to back of her heads, his fingers combing and wrapping around their bright coloured manes, petting their heads appreciatively in an awkward display of appreciation. Between their lips, his staggering shaft spluttered his secretions across their cheeks, the mares willingly smearing his musk across their faces. However, the simple act was enough to encourage them even further, making him groan audibly as the two altered their focuses from licks to more stimulating machinations.
Chance’s fingers tightened around their manes as their lips set about different tasks. His eyes practically bulged from his sockets once Cup Cake wrapped her lips around one of his cum heavy spheres. Her tongue circled the nut, bathing it in spit and making it vibrate pleasantly with a blissful groan the mare hummed around it. She massaged one ball with her tongue whilst her hoof massaged the other, encouraging the fertile swimmers within that it was almost time for their grand debut. Such a devoted focus on his creameries was a new sensation. Whilst not as sensitive as his dick, the thought alone helped fan the warmth inside of him. If sucking a cock was a pleasure, sucking balls was flattery, an appreciation for virility and productivity. Chance almost forgot that swallowing down his creamy surprise was like pulling a lever at the world’s most elusive slot machine but refused to let that get in the way of enjoying the enthused jostle of her tongue.
Meanwhile, Cookie Crumble caressed the top of his leaking pillar with her lips, before welcoming the first few inches into her open maw. Her tongue was pressed flat by its tremendous size, although very quickly she put it to work, circling it as she began to bob her head up and down, descending an inch deeper on every decline. She plateaued at the halfway point, a few inches of his meat stretched out her throat as her jaw was open at maximum capacity. A compound of saliva and precum dribbled from her cheek corners as she fellated him, her languid movements in contrast to the enthusiasm of her tongue, which whipped together the spit and musk cocktail in its pursuit of pleasuring the human. Her blowjob was a barrage of good sensations, simultaneously sucking, pumping and tongue swirling all in one. Her tongue could dance. It was a tango of libido and lust, precise and articulate, Chance could spend all day letting it practice it saltations.
Despite how little she knew about his organ, Chance was amazed at how fast she picked up on his most sensitive spots – a real dick sucking connoisseur if he ever saw one. Her bottom lip would press into his frenulum on ascending, forcing the tip to squeeze out more of his delectable nectar for her to moan upon tasting, the undulations of her throat as she moaned sending pleasurable vibrations down to the hilt. And after a while Cup Cake had glazed both of his orbs with her saliva, her tongue pushing up between them both, slurping on the wrinkled skin in a downright degenerate display of glee.
Chance was in heaven. Unfortunately, heaven was hell in this topsy turvy world. His butt tightened just as one of his balls popped free from Cup Cake’s maw, his cock leaving Cookie’s mouth with a pop – strings of saliva and precum forming a bridge between them. Chance’s cock thickened, each vein contributing to the network becoming a dull purple as they were filled beyond capacity, the full capillaries and flex of his rumbling balls signalled his approaching climax. The spring that had coiled itself in his stomach was at max tension, ready to be sprung; his orgasm inevitable.
“I-I’m cumming,” he warned through gritted teeth. And it was a warning, a sincere notice of danger for the two mares servicing him. His nails left a permanent imprint of his climax in the softwood of the bench, holding himself in place as the instinctual desire to buck forwards was felt in his hips.
Unfortunately, his declaration was like ringing a dinner bell to their hungry mouths. Both mares reared themselves back from his crotch, their horny expressions like a pair of big multicoloured targets for his spunk volley.
“C’mon, paint us both, honey,” encouraged Cookie before lolling her tongue.
“Yes! Give these mommies a makeover!” Mrs Cream moaned, following suite.
“Oh, fuck!” Chance exclaimed with strain. If there was any slither of a chance he could contain his orgasm through sheer force of will alone, he was pretty sure their words were what shoved him over the edge and made that notion completely impossible.
With a throb and moan, the first streak lanced from his tip like some great white streamer. It landed right across Cookie’s cheek. The second joined soon after, vaulting over Cup Cake’s lips. His cock quickly became an uncontrolled hose, the following spurts random in where they struck. Thick white ropes splashed into cheeks, crashed into eyes – forcing them to shut – and paint numerous pearly stripes across their face. Most importantly: his thick ball cream also spewed itself onto their open tongues and Chance, in the haze of his orgasm, felt a tincture of fear. But, really, who could spare a moment to worry when experiencing the most intense orgasm of one’s life? He threw his head back to savour his bliss, trying to push the sight out of his mind – even if had already pressed, stamped and committed itself to his memory forever.
He didn’t count the number of pulses but his orgasm was long and it was hard – much like his peen! By the time his rod drooped downwards, dribbling the remainder of his climax to pool on the floor between his ankles, he was panting laboriously and sweating. It was unfortunate that a ‘devouring cock gobble by two horny mares’ wasn’t a widespread and acceptable regimen for fitness. When it came to the act of sex itself, less was certainly not more. Two tongues beat one and that was undoubtedly proven today in his eyes. However, lewd revelations had to be put on the back burner. By the time the haze of his afterglow lifted, his ears already picked up the sound of a pair of loud gulps…
Crap.
He watched with dread as Cup Cake rolled the salty-sweet excretion. She was treating it like a piece of gum before loudly swallowing it back, sighing after the creamy mess had landed in the pit of her stomach, “It’s thick.”
Cookie followed right after, scraping the streak up off her chin to swallow down the generous splattering of jizz. Her body quaked as she dragged her tongue over her teeth, searching for more of his delectable flavour. “I can feel it sliding down my throat.”
“It also tastes good,” purred Cup Cake.
Both mares feel into the other’s vision. Instead of directing their sights back on him after a mutual leer, their looks of lust were directed at each other. Or, rather, the mess of semen over the other mare’s face. Guiltily, Chance watched on as they smashed their lips together. He doubted it was the first time the two had wrestled tongues, kissing with a self-evident familiarity. Although very quickly, their tongues ventured from their mouths and started to drag over each other’s faces, lapping up the white streaks of cum that Chance expelled. They hummed, delighted at the taste, pulled up to a new state of rapture as they swallowed back down Chance’s expelled DNA. From what he could gather from his girlfriend, at first it was like tasting a new, delicious desert for the first time. You couldn’t get enough of the stuff, to begin with, and he recognised it in the two mares. They were ravenous, licking it off one another’s cheek until they had cleaned their friend’s face of spunk.
He thought that would be the end of it until they started looking out for more of his delectable white honey. When they couldn’t find any more on each other they immediately settled their eyes on his still leaking cock. Before Chance could run – and improbability in of itself considering the gelatin state of his legs – they threw themselves at his dick, Cup Cake eking out a victory as she was the first to latch her lips around his crown and sucked his prick for all she’s worth. Chance made a wry face as the zealous baker sucked on his spent cock, his body tensing into himself as though his entire body had sucked on a lemon. She suckled the residue of sperm from his urethra like marrow from bone, even sucking up some cum directly from his turbulent balls with the force of her suction. Chance was offered no reprieve as Cookie forcibly replaced her, pushing her friend's lips from the tip to replace them with her own. The unicorn's agile tongue wiggled against the urethra as she slurped on his jizz pipe, drinking directly from his productive sack; utilising his cock like a straw directly to his cum vats.
"Stop hogging it!" admonished Cup Cake, her hooves pulling the cum pipe from her suctioning lips, latching her eager maw to his cock and slurping greedily.
All the while Chance was tense. It was like a constant orgasm, euphoria stretching out over many more seconds of greedy slurping. He saw some of Rarity in her mother at that moment. Cookie Crumble wore a look of extreme shock and offence that brought with it swift recompense. She poked Mrs Cake with the tip of her horn, the mare flinching from his dick, giving the unicorn a big enough window to steal back her place as cock slurper. Cup Cake swiftly retorted by blowing a raspberry on the mare's cheek, making her recoil, enabling her to steal back the still dripping glands. The two continued to fight for a time over Chance's tasty sperm, only coming to the precipice of on outright brawl as they stole tastes of the human's slimy treat. However, their enthusiasm gradually slowed, becoming fuller and fuller upon his cock cream until they left his dick alone, wearing contended smiles.
After getting their fill, Chance felt like they had all but drained him of his soul.
Cookie brushed her fetlock against her full lips after she was done, wearing a sheepish grin as she looked up at him, “I guess we know what humans have going for them now.”
“Yep: huge dicks and tasty cum. Hmm, I wonder if it’d taste nice as a pastry glaze?” asked Cup Cake, licking her lips. Chance had no clue whether she was being serious or not.
Chance said nothing in the meanwhile, hiding it under the guise of fatigue rather than anxious curiosity. He inspected them with partially squinted eyes, unmoved from his position on the bench as he awaited some sort of bodily response. The effects of his cum on the horny griffon were immediate but as far as he could tell, the two mares were completely unaffected… or experiencing a delayed reaction.
Cookie clapped – clopped? - her hooves together, grabbing Chance from his stupor. “Ready to repay the favour, sweetie?” she asked with a tonal injection of saccharine, which had the effect of both encouraging and infantilising the human.
“Uh, I think so,” he replied warily, vigour returning to his toned limbs as he stood. He was ultimately unsure about continuing things but so long as they weren’t affected by his afflicted cum, why not?
Cup Cake grinned. “I can’t wait to feel that thing stretch my insides…” her words petered out, her eyes squinting as her lips tightened into a thin plump line, as though trying to subdue something.
Chance’s eyebrows knitted together. He would’ve almost preferred a transformation to making her vomit. “Are you okay, Mrs Cake?”
She parted her lips to let out a breath, her face becoming flush with heat. “I feel warm,” noted Cup Cake, directing a satisfied smile at the human.
“Me too,” concurred Cookie, wrapping her hooves around herself as she sat, rocking gently from side to side..
Chance clasped his hands together, looking between the two mares. “Okay ladies, we need to put you both in quarantine like, right now.”
“I feel so good,” cooed Cookie, either in response to Chance or ignoring him outright as her hooves roamed her own body.
Cup Cake suddenly lost the reliability of her hooves, her steps swaying her over the locker with a loud but harmless slam; relying on them to keep standing as a low and husky groan escaping her throat. “I feel something,” she moaned, tugging at her shirt as she chewed her bottom lip.
Chance’s eyes slammed wide open, gripping his own hand tightly. This was it. The worst-case scenario. The day his sperm killed somebody. Chance was fully prepared to say au revoir to his innocence and title of a ‘good boy’ as his head creased into a lour. He pondered how lenient the Equestrian justice system would go on him, and how much more trouble he’d get in if they discovered that his cock slowly flagged back to hardness at the sound of their confused moans and reddened cheeks. They seemed utterly consumed by the new sensation, ignoring him to vocalise on the new source of pleasure.
“Ah, my ass. Something-” Cookie stopped mid-sentence as a groan escaping unprompted from her lips.
“My butt,” Cup Cake moaned, her lips shut to tremble - pleasure shaking her form.
Like a mad scientist watching his experiment unfold, Chance relinquished control to his thickening mast as he watched whatever process was happening to the two mares unfold. Cookie fell forward, her cheek squashing on the cold tile, her ass and hips swaying from side to side as her forehooves reached for her cunt, rubbing her plump nethers through the thin black material. With her tail flagged, Chance realised how little the pants left to the imagination, the suction of such tight pants revealed the distinct outline of her plump equine asshole and matured horse pussy. Any other day Chance would’ve loved to shake the hoof/hand/talons or the genius who invented such a revealing garment, however at that moment he was more consumed with the fact they appeared to be growing even tighter around the mare’s behinds.
The sound of stretching latex sounded alongside pleasured groans, both mares rubbing their cunts raw through the material, too consumed with bliss to realise what was happening to them. With his girlfriend, the process was gradual but immediate, and he saw it here too. Whilst his girlfriend transformed into a buxom anthro, the status the two mares were afflicted with appeared to be a simple… enhancement.
In their pants, Chance watched as their already bountiful handfuls of assflesh inflated like balloons under the thin black material. The swelling expanse of booty flesh made the pants visibly strain, the latex pinching in taut as they were overfilled with ass. Alongside the bloat of their ass, their motherly hips widened, which in turn only forced the material to stretch more tensely over their ballooning posterior. Chance couldn’t tell whether their butts were growing in proportion to their widening hips or if their hips flared to accommodate their growing mounds but he liked the result either way.
“Buck me,” cursed Cookie, the breath being forced from her lungs.
Soon the inevitable happened a peppering of holes appeared in their pants from the tension. The material pinched into their coats as their swelling posteriors squeezed through some of the holes, their butts becoming too big to contain, the continued growth tearing the holes even larger apart and opening many others until the pants were more akin to a net. Their enlarged assets seemed to swallow their genitals when smushed together in a holey latex cage, pouring through some of the holes. Chance could feel his face burn at the sight of them both, his cock smouldering hot with lust at the image before him. The scent of their natural odour tickled his nose, sweat and lust nectar both were freed through the numerous ruptures in their pants, their hooves still hard at work rubbing circles on their clits through the scant remains of latex. If their hips were mother bearing before now they were downright matronly, a real pair of breeding sows whose bongo drum butts would no doubt make every sexual encounter a figurative applause. He wanted to see them go walk, wondering if their widened hip-swaying gait and enlarged fat asses would cause their cheeks to clap with every step.
“Did we… gain weight?” Cup Cake said, looking over her shoulder at her swelled booty and hips, wearing a blush when she realised she had more of herself to look at. "A-and some height."
“I came to the gym to get slimmer, not get bigger,” Cookie complained, her face still on the floor, her words partially mewled as she dribbled. “But it feels I was just taken on the ride of my life.”
“The effects are only temporary… I think,” he mumbled the last part, sporting a forced yet assuring grin, “It’s my semen. It’s… weird. That’s why I was so, uh-”
“Reluctant,” finished Cup Cake, the mare no longer relying on the lockers to stand, her body swaying slightly under the new weight of her expanded rear. She looked back over her shoulder, giving her ass a little shake, gasping at the jiggle that accompanied. “Holy heck. My husband is going to love stuffing this thing.”
Chance’s eyes were drawn to the sight, swallowing his saliva. There wasn’t something so much hotter about such a huge jiggling posterior when it was straining inside of a pair of way too tight pants – an attribute that he could verify was just as applicable to ponies as it did humans. Her ass wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for a pony, nor was her hips, however, such a perfectly voluptuous behind would have required a succinct combination of genes, exercise and diet to make it come to fruition. He could add ‘shortcut to a great ass’ to the list of possibilities his semen would induce. From the way Cup Cake smiled, he wondered if it would’ve been such a bad thing if it didn’t go away.
“Temporary, you say?” Cup Cake said, turning to him with several plodding steps, her tush jiggling with each one.
“Uh-huh,” Chance confirmed, nodding, eyes glued to her perfect valley of latex and flesh.
She then looked down from his face to his pristine shaft, the pillar of meat throbbed full of blood in want for her. She smirked before continuing, “Well, If that’s the case, you best get me out of these pants and stuff me already, don’t ya?”
Chance smiled like a fool, feeling himself pulse at her proposition, giving her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Stuff us,” corrected Cookie, rising unsteadily to her hooves, looking over her shoulder at both Chance and her gelatinous ass mounds. “I want you to leave a hand-sized imprint on my fat tushy whilst you’re fucking me. Think you can do that for me, Chance?”
Chance smirked, placing his hands on his toned hips. “I think so...”
The two mares readied for their carnal activity by resting their torsos and forehooves on the bench, their hind legs still making contact with the floor as they spread them for ease of access. Standing side by side and close to one another their asses melded around each other like lips, producing a sight Chance had to just stop and admire, a strong surge of blood rushing to his cock as his eyes wandered. Sometimes, he took pride in his patience and willpower although never as much as he did now. His legs remained rooted in place in the presence of two sultry and eager mares, his eyes dancing between their butts, doing nothing else. Although indecision had as much to contribute to his stillness as his will did, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“What are you doing?” asked Cookie, a tinge of impatience in her voice.
“I can’t decide who to do pick first,” he answered honestly, his chin cupped, feeling despair at his dilemma. He could see the slight pronunciation of their clits as they winked against the latex, their squirming thighs as they tried in futility to ease their lusts. They were probably excreting enough nectar to fill a couple of wine glasses if he had to guess, which only made the decision even harder.
“Well, how about we force a decision out of you?” Cup Cake asked with a grin, cocking her brow.
“What? If I don’t you’ll deny me sex?” he asked, smirking, knowing full well that they were too horny to stop now.
“No, sweetie. Because if you don’t, your cock will explode,” threatened Cookie, smiling playfully as she shared a knowing look with the mare next to her.
Before he could pathetically shield his dick from some sort of malevolent sorcery, the two mares smashed their lips together. Unlike before their duelling tongues weren’t taking part in a desperate struggle for the remnants of cum on each other’s lips, it was a sensual wrestle of pure eroticism. As their lips smacked in their sloppy exchange of saliva, he could see their tongues mid-fight, their combined moans the beautiful noise to have ever graced his ears. He was becoming light-headed at the sight, the reason for which was blatantly obvious by the undulant up and down of his throbbing knob. Rivulets of pre dribbled to the floor from his cumslit, and controlled by pure, unadulterated id, his dick ultimately made the decision for him…
“Oh,” Cup Cake broke the kiss, looking back to see Chance run his hefty cock up between her latex covered valley. She licked her lip of excess spittle, biting her lip, “Lucky me.”
His hips ran his cock back and forth between her large ass, the huge cheeks embracing his member. The latex didn’t feel all that great on his skin but having his cock enveloped by her two mounds was an experiencing unlike any other. She gyrated back against him, his stimulated member twitching against her subtle movements, the mare wanting him just as much as he wanted her. Even through the material, he could feel the lustful heat of her ass and slit, the slight acridity a welcome sensation for his dick, one he couldn’t wait to feel in its full potency any longer. His hands shot for the hem of her pants, which pinched into the flesh below her flagged tail.
His fingers initially struggled to squeeze under the tight-pulled elastic but he eventually succeeded, yanking them down to feel a blast of hot air against his shaft and sack from her formerly imprisoned genitals, her massive cheeks giving a few bounces as they were freed, drooping slightly under their own heft. Bridges of sticky string connected from her lowered pants and her plump labia. Were it not filled with holes and torn, the absolute mess Cup Cake made of them would have done the job. Her puss was several shades darker than her coat, a luscious blueberry, smooth like silk and soaking wet. Above it was her wrinkled ponut and whilst Chance didn’t expect a penile traipse into the forbidden hole, it had a certain allure to it thanks to that fact alone. Keeping one hand latched to her sizeable rump his other tightly held the base of his member, angling it downwards as he took a small step away from her. One of the most fascinating attributes of pony anatomy was the clitoris, the little love button about the size of a grape consistently exposed itself to him, flicking musky love juice against his thighs in a clear signal of her lust. It was distinctly primal. Base. The sight combined with the rich aroma of her arousal and sweat was enough to make his mind foggy with nought else other than sex. He sort of liked the sensation of being mindless, which was his final thought before his swollen prick pushed apart the lips of her cunny, sliding straight into her awaiting folds. The pink walls immediately tightening around his sceptre’s crown, causing him to grunt at the increased snugness, her cunt strangling the few inches embedded in her.
Another fact about pony anatomy he had only heard about but could now confirmed he liked very much: Muscle. Control.
“Oh, Celestia, you feel as thick as you look!” Cup Cake lauded, her rear end quivering as Chance slid more of his mammoth cock into her.
He could feel her twat trying to clamp down around his piping hot immensity, his cock splitting apart her clenched walls to bury itself deep into her love canal. In order to fully plant himself, he had to use more force than normal as he squeezed his hips into her plump rump, the mounds almost too large to stop him from hilting inside of her vice-like twat. His hips pushed into her hard, spearing his whole organ into her soft trench; kissing her cervix and making her whole body shiver in delight at the superb fullness. Now fully hilted, he couldn’t help compare the sensation of her marehood to his girlfriend. He couldn’t say which was better but he enjoyed the differences immensely. The walls of a gryphon’s sex were slightly abrasive – much like their owners – adding slight friction that felt oh so good to pound in and out of. Meanwhile, a mare’s snatch formed an airtight seal around every inch of his meat, giving it a full body massage he would’ve been content to just stand there and enjoy were he not trying to satisfy her as well. He yanked his blood filled pogo stick free of her clamping lips, gasping with Cup Cake at the friction and leaving only the tip of his fleshy iron rod buried inside of her, his bared inches glistening with wet and sticky mare juice.
Lubricated, Chance immediately began to rock his hips forwards and backwards in a rough and fast rhythm. He moaned as he started slamming his hips against the mare’s butt, his pendulous balls slapping against her winking clit; pressing her bright pink button on every deep thrust and eliciting rapturous moans on each firm press. His body started to move on autopilot after a few hip gyrations, his right hand wrapping around her dock for increased leverage as the other latched to her left cheek, groping and squeezing the sizeable mound. It was like kneading a giant, furry bag of flour, which was apt considering who it belonged to. It spilt through his fingers, the mound beyond hand filling.
“Ah! Buck, buck, buck, buck!” Cup Cake’s pleasured chant of expletives was exclaimed with every deep penetration into her pussy, the cunt splitting girth of his dick making each thrust a strike of thunder on her pleasure centres.
Despite his fondness for the mare he couldn’t help but fall to the temptation her massive ass exuded from its perfect roundness. He let go of her ass, raising up his hand and delivering a deft and firm slap to her rump mid-thrust. She gasped, a sharp exhale of pleasure and pain. The hollow thwack caused ripples to run over the surface of Cup Cake’s ass cheek, the subtle outline of his palm and fingers began to show where she struck – right over one of the muffins making up her cutie mark, an obscene brand that faded after a few moments of intense fucking.
“Sweet Celestia…” Cookie muttered, quiet enough that Chance almost didn’t hear it, his eye flicking to her awed expression and beet red cheeks.
He wasn’t all that surprised she voiced her reaction to Cup Cake, the mature mare almost frothing at the mouth from pleasure. His girlfriend didn’t even react this fervidly, her squawk typically began to crescendo once she was close to her wing-flapping climax. It honestly flattered him. As his hips continued to work like a piston in and out of the baker’s cunny, the sound of their wet organs squelching and slapping in carnal union, her reaction coupled with the pleasure he felt emboldened him to multitask.
Without warning, he released Cup Cake’s tail and curled his fingers under the hem of Cookie’s pants. He immediately yanked her pants down with his right hand and bared her dark pink slit to the open air. Her scent coupled with the other aromas of sex, making him swell a tad thicker in the cunt he was busy fucking. Being forced to watch the sexual coupling had turned her puffy pussy into a geyser of sexual fluid, which made it a very tempting target indeed. He, therefore, wasted no time in slamming two fingers past her bare, snug lips; his digits curling downwards like blunt talons as he began to frantically wiggle and thrust out of her clenching pussy. Under his slick fingertips, he made sure that he practised no mercy in attacking her g-spot. She jumped in surprise from the sudden attack, squirming around his fingers, letting loose a silent scream as he finger fucked her soft, needy twat. It’d do for now but Chance was determined to replace his fingers with something much thicker once he was done with the mare in front of him, already eager to explore yet another velveteen hole with his vein covered fuckstick...
“By Celestia, I feel like a puppet!” commented Cookie, her walls squeezing around Chance’s swirling digits. Few – translation: one – have had the opportunity to experience the human’s fingers in their depths. They lacked the sharp, talon-like quality of dragons or gryphons, meaning that they were safe to scrape and prod against a mare’s inner walls with wild abandon.
Neither Chance nor Cup Cake replied to her, utterly consumed by pleasure as Chance ramped up his pace. He was yanking on the mare’s tail, often sliding her back down his length just before a thrust, making the pleasure seamless to them both. He didn’t really pay attention to how long he lasted, considering his recent orgasm a blessing in disguise for his stamina. At a certain point, she stopped moaning, her head hanging lazily down on the other side of the bench, saliva drooling from her limp jaw. He had heard the phrase ‘fuck silly’ before, he just always thought of it as a crass exaggeration of skill but he saw now that it was utterly independent of such. You can fuck someone silly just by cramming as much cock into them in as many repeated intervals as humanly possible! There was also a secondary explanation for his speed, his breathing transforming into pants of exertion as his orgasm fell onto his shoulders. His hand’s coil around her tail tightened as the circumference of his cock swelled, the surprising growth making her shudder. His jaw clenched tight as she squeezed around his length in a tight chokehold, a high mewl sounding from her fatigued mouth as the orgasm shook her entire body. Within her heavenly canal, Chance hilted himself entirely, his cock pulsing as his hefty balls clenched. He began to unload the sloshing contents of his nuts directly into her eager womb, his spheres flexing against her winking nub as she milked his hose for everything it had. The sensation was truly indescribable, akin to a suction-less vacuum specially designed for draining seed. The pleasure was so intense as to paralysed him, his fingers even coming to a standstill inside of Cookie’s clenching clam as he rode the wave of his ecstasy to its slow subsidence.
It was a truly sinful sight. Strings of marecum bridged to his glazed cock as he withdrew it, his glands a deep purple as it continued to beat and throb with palpitation; still filled with the magma hot blood of lust. He wrapped his fingers around the base, trying to prevent blood from leaving it as he set his sights on the concerned mare next to him. He felt like a wild animal at that moment – sweaty, stinking of sex and covered in the fluids of his mate. Thought the civilised part of him reminded Chance to take another shower after this, the beastly side was determined to sow another cunt with the monstrous appendage at its disposal.
He wasted no time, fuelled by the ardour of lust. Sidestepping and slipping his fingers free, he aimed his throbbing using his hand and he thrust his hips forward, penetrating her sopping hole through light resistance. Cookie could barely react in time to the sensation of him plunging balls deep into her aching cunt. With Cup Cake pacified from ecstasy, he poured all of his focus into ploughing the mare before him, the last hurrah of sex and cum. His strokes long and hard, his ramrod becoming battering ram to her poor cervix, although he got the impression she liked it rougher than her friend did, a large, dumb smile appearing on her face. Seeing this, he raised his open hand and struck her large ass with a strong slap. He knew the pain of such a strong strike would produce sharp string and would linger a short while after, his handprint proof of that – a brand to her sluttishness. But upon doing so a howl of delight escaped her lips, a particularly strong clench from her tight twat coinciding. A growl of bliss sounded from Chance’s lips, so he did it again… and again... and again!
Each time he smacked her bubble butt, the large ass mounds rippling with each one, she would tighten just a little tighter around him. A weaker man might have been slowed or even stayed by such a clamping quim but not Chance! He was in the prime of his life, a perfect fuck machine that was not be slowed by such barriers! His hips continued to roll and plunge deep, fast and hard with fiery vigour, even pulling some of her out with him on every partial withdrawal. His hands alternating between grabbing tightly to her tail and jiggling her ass with erotic reverberations after much-wanted slap. No ass cheek was spared. Not only did the strong slam of his pounding hips begin to redden her derrière, his alternating slaps gradually turned her butt from pink to bright red, handprints appearing all over her soft, cushiony globes like temporary tattoos.
“Breed me!” Cookie’s pleasured cry reverberated Chance to his very core, “Fill my pony womb!”
The savagery of such a blunt desire was in direct keeping with his state of mind, pushing him right to the edge. The next few moments were a blur of snarls from him and heightened moans from the mare beneath him, his hips moving too fast for her mind to keep up with. Her cunt was unable to meld around his blunt cock as he began to use her trembling hole like a fucktoy he had yet to break in. Her juices liberally flowed, scraped out of her by Chance’s cock. A small clear pool began to form on the floor between hooves and feet, although most of it ended up on Chance’s legs, which remained firmly in place as his hips rocked his body back and forth. He was about to give her what she wanted.
With a final, bone quaking thrust, Chance rammed every last inch of his manhood into her. A hiss of pain and pleasure sounded from Cookie’s clenched jaw as the tip pushed on her cervix, the barrier giving away slightly as his mushroom tip throbbed inside of her deepest, most intimate place. Her body shuddered from the full force of an orgasm, her bliss button struck by Chance’s blood-filled hammer! Cum flowed like a geyser from the tip, Chance’s nails digging into her coat as his most pleasurable climax yet wracked him. The blasts of his ropey semen hit the roof of her foalbox, more joining soon after until he felt his own cock get enshrouded in the warmth of its own slimy delivery. The pressure meant that her womb couldn’t contain his fluids, his warm batter filling her canal and spurting from her folds, joining the rest of the mess pooling on the ground.
He eventually pulled himself free of her depths as the penultimate blast fired directly into her womb, the human-sounding aloud his pleasure with a loud moan. The last hearty blast of cum resulted in an erotic rope across her ponut, a thick white line covered her V to her A. His hands loosened and he staggered backwards, his back hitting the lockers. He relied on them for support as he slowly fell to the ground, losing the energy draining from his body. His bare butt squeaked as he slid awkwardly onto his back, too tired to stop himself from laying flat on the tiled white floor, staring at the ceiling as he panted with a silly smile...
It took more than a few minutes for the mares to recover, the thick jizz oozing from their twats, even as the life was breathed back into them after a full ten minutes. Their shadows covered his nude body as they plodded over to him, the mares experiencing some kind of post-coital high. The best thing about them was their faces. Their cheeks were tinged pink and they wore smiles, which Chance honestly didn’t expect to see considering the merciless ravaging of their cunts – not to mention the cavalcade of smacks he dropped on their asses. Although their faces did not remain in their contended expressions, not when their eyes fell from his face gradually down to his crotch.
“You’re still hard?” both mares sounded their disbelief simultaneously, looking with widened eyes at Chance’s persistent erection.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone other than my girlfriend. I think my little friend just wants to get as much out of this situation as he can,” he answered, smiling bashfully. That being said, whilst the spirit – and dick – were very much willing, the body was not. If an intense bee-jay was enough to make him exhausted, cream stuffing two mares rendered him practically inert. All of his energy had been diverted and stolen by his dick like a fat meaty lightning rod, a steady rivulet of pre trickling down his cum glazed, still throbbing shaft.
The inconsistent thrum and twitch of his penis had kept the mares keen attention. A part of it was clearly disbelief but Chance recognised the subtle contortion of their expression, the formulation of a plan they both discussed silently with one another through a single sideways glance and a coy snicker. They on each other, back to back on adjacent sides of the human’s waist. Their tails flagged to the left, giving Chance a view of their demolished twats. He would’ve winced were he not so proud, each snatch resting slightly agape with lips glistening from juice with clits still winking. Chance watched as they took a step back, their genitals kissing one another just above his crotch, mare nectar drooling from their tribbing slits and pouring over his cocktip like syrup as they ground into each other’s rear. If this was just to tease him, Chance had to applaud them on such an ingeniously cruel method. Their rears soon separated, strings of juice connecting them for a few moments. Then their hind hooves suddenly bent, and within a blink his pulsing cock was positioned between their two cunts. His dick throbbed mightily at their combined warmth, crying a pearl of precum from the crown – doubtlessly a tear of joy for the imminent. Within a second his vascular pike was slammed and smothered between the two bouncing rears, disappearing from Chance’s view and taken directly to heaven by the human’s account. The thunderclap of their colliding cheeks sent a fleshy echo throughout the locker room, which was immediately joined by a gasp so high in frequency that only certain species of bird were capable of hearing it.
The experienced yanked him to the zenith of ecstasy, even further from his prior perceived peaks. The sensation was blistering hot, their snatches wet and slippery. They both twerked up and down his shaft at a mismatched pace, a bustle of up and down motion, generous smearing of secretions, sweat and past climaxes created a truly frictionless experience. He was living through the embodiment of pure smut. Their soft plumpy roundness of their wrinkled ponuts, the hugging wetness of their pussies and the tight squeeze of their clenching butt cheeks was utter nirvana for him. He worried for his hip bone as they began to slam down on him, most likely some form of revenge for his indelicate pounding of their posteriors earlier, although he was beyond caring almost immediately. A day long limp was well worth the price for such an experience!
Each mare began to moan the longer they went on, their pussies and clits grinding with greater drive against the fleshly pole sandwiched between them. The tandem up and down driving them closer to a union of a thunderous climax with the human between them. Chance's nails screatched into the tile. It cock ached something fierce, his head lightheaded from both pleasure and a general lack of blood circulation. Yet at the same time he didn't want it to stop. He felt a desperate need to cum, one unlike any other. Nestled between their hugging privates, their repitious cranking of his cock brought forth the inevitable. All that sounded from Chance's mouth was a pitiful moan, his hips jerking upwards as the MILFs slammed their hips down in one final clap and clamp of flesh.
Stripes of cum blasted from his cock like an obscene fountain, the two mares moaning in mutual delight as they quivered around his girth. Like the untidy sprawl of a foal, his strings of jizz landed back down on their asses, decorating their still grinding posteriors. It wasn't until every rope of thick jizz was drained from Chance's softening hose did they stop, the room silent save for three panting mouths. The mares pulled themselves from beleguered cock after a short period of recovery, his limp noodle oozing the last residue of cum onto his stomach as the fleshy spear was finally able to achieve respite.
"That was fun," Cookie purred, looking over her shoulder and down her back at the mess of pussy juice and cum on her ass.
"I'm glad I was able to put this thing to some use," Cup Cake said, wearing a glad smile as she delivered a deft smack to her rump.
"Yeah, I'm almost sad they're not gonna be staying with us long. Almost," Cookie emphasied, wearing a blush on her face as she stared at her friend's plump rump.
"Hey, are you okay, sweetie?" asked Cup Cake, directing her rosy eyes at the human's fatigued visage, her tone rather mother-like despite the risque nature of the situation.
“Y-yeah," replied Chance, limply flapping his hand up and down in assurance, "I’m just gonna lay here for a few minutes in my own sweat and our collective juices before hopping back in the shower.”
She smirked in response, her shaky hooves rising to stand. "Sure thing, hon. We're gonna do the same."
"Minus the laying in our 'juices' part," Cookie added, a coy grin accompanying her words as she similarly stood. "I hope nobody catches you like this."
"Me neither," he replied, smiling with the same levels of flacidicy as his dick. "It's a miracle nobody walked in on us as is."
"Well, make sure you hit us up again. I wouldn't turn down a second round," Cookie's salacious inference provoked, against all odds, a twitch from Chance's cock as she walked on by. Fortunately for Chance, his little soldier was just past the point of sexual exhaustion.
"I'll be seeing you, Chance. Feel free to visit the bakery any time," said Cup Cake, wearing a knowing grin as she passed by the downed human.
“Thanks..." Chance replied wearily, no longer possessing the energy to even raise his head. However, his mind was still active, and he called out before they left, "Hey, wait, before you go, can I have my clothes back?”
“Oh, we never said we had your clothes,” revealed Cookie, her hooves not stopping.
“But thanks for the good time, stud,” Mrs Cake added. sticking out her tongue playfully towards him over her shoulder, leaving the locker room with her friend and newly fattened ass and hips.
Chance couldn't help but smile, even as his brows knit themselves together confusion. He had a good time. A really good time. But still, something wormed its way into his head. "Where the hell are my clothes?" he asked aloud...
What happened to Chance's clothes?
Find out...
Now.
After a few minutes Chance rose to his feet, shambling towards the showers, relying on the lockers for support. He did, indeed, walk with a limp whilst heading towards his destination. However, on the way there, he noticed something perculiar. Something he didn't before.
Two unlocked lockers.
Did he miss the first? Why was there...
He approached the second, unlocked locker with a hurried gait. His fingers pulled at the small handle. He grimaced at what he saw inside.
"Oh. There you are," he spoke flatly, his fingers grasping his sweat soiled shirt, handing his head as a sigh escaped him. A moment or two later he lifted his head again, closing the locker door and continuing his plodding walk towards the shower, a singular retort to his stupidity coming from his mouth on reflex. "Doesn't matter. Had sex."
The End.