> Queen of the Backstreets > by Some Leech > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Business Negotiations > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Levitating the cone-shaped joints to her muzzle, Coke wrapped her lips around the butt, sent a surge of magic through her horn to light the cig, and took a long, deep draw. Her eyes drifted shut, as the roiling smoke filled her lungs. While she wasn’t typically one to get baked at such an early hour, having several things yet to do that afternoon, it had been a particularly trying morning and she desperately needed a bit of relief. “A…are you Cocaine?” a voice behind her timidly asked, causing her brow to furrow. Lazily spinning around, turning to face whoever had been dumb or insistent enough to follow her into the alleyway, she slowly exhaled. “No, you’re looking for the other Zebrican alicorn,” she grunted, spying a somewhat chubby, noticeably sheepish looking stallion. Her look was both a blessing and a curse, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Being a regular zebra in Baltimare would have gotten her plenty of attention in and of itself, yet she was anything but. Instead of black bands covering her body, she was marked with golden stripes over her frame. Her particular coloration made her stick out like a sore thumb, although it was her wings and horn that really made her unique. Standing mute for a moment, seeing the stallion’s nonplussed expression, she casually took another hit of her joint. “If you haven’t figured it out,” she sighed, breathing a plume of smoke over his face, “I’m fucking with you. Yes, I’m the Coke, Grand Princess of the backstreets, how can I help you?” “I - um -” he stammered, casting his eyes to the concrete beneath him, “I heard you might be willing to help me with a problem?” “A problem?” she repeated, feeling the subtle warmth of the grass’ buzz moving through her. “What kind of problem?” Refusing to look at her, he nervously fidgeted in place. “I…it’s a little embarrassing…” “Lemme guess,” she huffed, helping herself to another small puff, “you want me to punch your v-card.” Though she’d made the assertion in jest, he stiffened and glanced up at her face. “Is it that obvious?” “I…” she trailed off, sorcerously lowering and peering at the joint. Either her dealer buddy had slipped something into her weed or she’d just found herself in a particularly rare situation. It wasn’t uncommon for prospective clients to seek her out, having heard about her carnal skills or simply wishing to bed a banded alicorn, so she was used to being propositioned; what she wasn’t used to was having somepony ask her to rob them of their virginity. Taking another long draw of smoke, fighting the urge to smile, she wheeled around and waved a wing. “C’mon, I got somewhere private we can use,” she intoned, listening to his heavy hooffalls behind her. Following a number of zigzagging alleys and corridors, it didn’t take her long to reach her destination. The Love Hole wasn’t a five-star establishment by any means, but the rooms were cheap and the staff knew better than to ask questions - hell, she was pretty close friends with the mare who ran the place. Seeing herself inside, spying a changeling behind the counter, she grinned and flicked her roach outside. Without so much as asking for a room, she magically lifted a key from behind the drone. “I need a room, Mei.” The shapeshifter merely shrugged and flipped the page off a magazine she was reading, too preoccupied with the material to care about the breach of etiquette. “Slip me a spliff and I’ll -” Before the receptionist could even finish, Coke produced a fresh joint from her shoulder bag and sat it on the counter. “You were saying?” “Fifty percent off it is,” Mei murmured, smoothly grabbing the peace offering. “You two have fun.” Going to trot down the hall, Coke only then noticed her suitor was lingering by the exit. “You coming?” The poor guy falteringly nodded, scampering in and to her side. She almost felt bad for him - almost. As if his clumsy request and admission to being unsullied weren’t funny enough, the entirety of his face was a beet red. Trotting down the hallway and to the room she’d spontaneously booked, she peeked over at him. “You got a name, or would you prefer me to call you something generic like Sir or Daddy?” she inquired, piquing a brow. “It’s Beignet,” he replied, weakly smiling. Slowing by the door, slotting the key into the lock, Coke cocked her head. “Ain’t that like a donut or something?” Appearing somewhat energized by the question, he nodded. “Yeah, but without the hole. I run a small bakery in -” “Tell you what, hot stuff,” she cut him off, opening the door and staring over at him, “if you promise to give me free donuts, once a week for a month, I’ll give you a discount.” A part of her knew it was bad practice to offer a first-time client a discount of that caliber, but she had a soft spot for sweets, especially when she was baked or after a good lay - both of which she hoped to achieve in less than an hour. The lay probably wouldn’t take too long, considering she was about to pop his cherry, which meant she might have time to get some donuts before she had to be at the club. Motioning for him to enter, she watched him creep inside and closed the door behind him. “Sure, I c…could probably do that - speaking of which, I’m not sure what your rates are,” he noted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I work on a sliding scale,” she chuckled, unslinging her satchel and setting it on the dresser. “The better your performance, the less my time will cost - hell, if I cum before you, you won’t owe me a single bit!” His eyes widened in surprise, undoubtedly taken aback by her proclamation. “Really?” “Mmmhmm,” she hummed before quickly catching herself. “You’re still gonna owe me those donuts though.” “Beignets,” he corrected. Rolling her eyes, she sent power surging through her horn. “Whatever. Get on the bed, dough boy, Coke’s about to make a stallion out of you.” Cheerful banter aside, she didn’t have all afternoon to sit around and chew the fat with the portly stud; it wasn’t like she minded chatting, but she had shit to do and, if she was lucky, some decent donuts to earn. Enshrouding him with her golden aura, she plucked the stupefied pony from the floor and flung him to the mattress. Landing with a resounding Pomf, the bedframe groaning under his not inconsiderable weight. Laying on his back, with his head resting on the pillows, he peered down his chest and watched her crawl onto the foot of the mattress. “H…h…how are you gonna -” Interrupting him with a lifted forehoof, she scrunched her snout and quietly inspected his equipment. She’d seen packages of all sizes, shapes, and colors, so the view of his very impressive stallionhood warmed her heart and marehood. Truth be told, the endowment of her clients had never been a deal breaker, since she found joy in dicks of every variety - that being said, it had been a while since she’d had a nice stretch. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she began, stepping over his supine frame and spinning to face in the opposite direction. “Since you need the experience, you’re going to warm me up.” Having her hind legs to either side of his head, she sank to her haunches and lowered her hindquarters. She took it upon herself to teach bedroom skills if and when she could, being the professional that she was, but it would be up to him to seize that initiative. Regardless of whether or not he tried to learn from her, sitting on his face would definitely keep the plump little chatterbox from talking her ear off. As she eased herself upon him, bringing her muzzle to his hardening length, she licked her lips. In spite of his frazzled nerves, the tubby stud was definitely excited to have her hot, rapidly moistening snatch against his muzzle. Watching his stallionhood fill with blood, swelling and throbbing in tune with the beats of his heart, she leaned in and kissed the tip of his length. Though she’d initially been a bit concerned that his hygiene was lacking, an issue she’d dealt with for some of her clientele, his delicately masculine aroma roused the lecherous parts of her mind. With nothing more to be said, having effectively muzzled Beignet with her cunt, she closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick. She couldn’t speak for every whore out there, knowing some in her profession only did so to support a habit, but she absolutely loved her work. The sensation of warm cock-flesh, the scent of musk, the flavor of sweat, and the sensations her customers afforded were all magical in their own right, making her job more of a lucrative hobby than a chore. As she skillfully bobbed her head, gently caressing his shaft with her tongue, it didn’t take the stud long to join in. Be it from sheer excitement, having an exotic puss pressed to his lips, some desire to reciprocate, or some combination of the three, he cautiously lipped and lapped at her nethers. She hadn’t been sure if he was actually going to warm her up, so the sensation sent a thrilled shiver up her spine - still, she couldn’t help but have a bit of fun with him. Rolling her hips forward and back, she painted his snout with her juices. Given that it was his first time doing anything with a mare, unless he’d bullshitted her, she thought it only appropriate to make the experience a memorable one - as such, ensuring he smelled her sex for at least a day felt like a decent way to kick things off. Smiling around his shaft, feeling and hearing him groan, she took a deep breath, relaxed her jaw, and forced her head forward. His reaction to being throated was as hot as it was entertaining. His hips reflexively bucked, trying and failing to plunge his rigid member into her throat, while he whimpered into her depths. Though she’d bedded creatures of various ages and experience levels, she took a certain joy from bedding novice lovers. The control she felt over them, practically dominating them with her skill, was intoxicating, and this time was no different. Her horn went alight, as she lovingly fondled his ripe, pendulous balls. When, not if he came, she wanted him to blow the biggest load of his life, so she had to force herself not to break him too quickly. Moving at a relatively relaxed pace, enjoying his fumbling attempt to eat her out, she continued her plunge until her nose pressed against his nuts. Ordinarily speaking, she would have loved to watch a virgin’s reaction to one of her renown blowjobs - then again, she’d grown quite fond of mutual oral. Less than a week ago, back when a thestral had paid her for a hummer, she’d found out too late that he wanted to be sucked off while playing some insufferable video game. Looking up and seeing his face glued to a Joy Boy had immediately rubbed her the wrong way. Be darned if she was going to let a John get distracted by something so silly, so she’d solved the problem herself. After politely plucking the game from his grasp and setting it well out of his reach, allowing him to fully appreciate being sucked off, she’d gotten back to business and finished her job.  Withdrawing her head for a sip of air, shaking the unfortunate memory from her thoughts, she steadily bobbed her head. One of the best parts about her career, beside the notoriety and never going without sexual release, was that, unlike a great many mares, she didn’t mind taking control - sure, she liked to be dominated from time to time, but taking the lead could be really fun at times. In the case of Beignet, she felt like utterly rocking his world. Raising her waist ever so slightly, allowing the stallion a bit more freedom of movement, her pace quickened. She had no intention of making him cum, at least for the time being, but she wanted to push him right to the brink. Edging him, making sure he was desperate to climax, was almost as fun as the event itself - that and getting him nice and riled up was turning her on more than she’d initially thought. On and on she went, deftly torquing and twisting her head, while she fellated him like a seasoned veteran. To his credit, as the minutes dragged by, he seemed to grow a bit more comfortable with eating her out. Likely having consumed a good bit of porn, what she referred to as training material, he focused on her winking clit. Rearing back, freeing all but the blunt tip of his tool, she vehemently sucked the sensitive area. “Oh my god,” he moaned, breaking from his ministrations. Throwing her head back, she peeked over her shoulder at him. “I’ve been called worse, but I’m glad you’re liking it.” As she turned her attention back to his pillar-like stallionhood, a glint in one corner of the room caught her eye. There was one particular chamber in the establishment that was different from the rest, one which had been equipped with a number of cameras to record particularly spicy engagements. Either by fortune or sheer dumb luck, she’d just so happened to grab the key for the very particular suite. Grinding to an abrupt halt, she pushed herself up, stepped over him, and spun around. Though she hadn’t planned on memorializing the depraved occasion, she knew an opportunity when she saw one. Dipping her head, ignoring the strand of drool and pre-cum dangling from her chin, a wolfish smirk crept across her muzzle. “Remember how I said I’d give you a discount?” she asked. His eyes went wide, yet he didn’t budge a muscle. “Y…yeah, and you said it’d be free if I -” “Ah ah ah,” she tutted, pressing a forehoof to his lips to silence him. “What if I told you that this entire thing wouldn’t cost you anything at all,” she continued. “Aside from the donuts.” “What’s the catch?” he countered, likely sensing some trickery at play. “As you may or may not know, I run a studio of sorts. If you’re willing to let me capitalize on our little date, I’ll consider my service gratis,” she explained, slowly pulling away. “And,” she added, gradually squatting down over his cock, “I’ll give you a cut of the profits.” Beignet warily looked around the room, before staring up at her. “So you’re telling me that we’re being recorded?” “Yup,” she chirped, waving at a potted plant sitting against one wall. “Three cameras and a hooffull of microphones to capture special romantic moments, but you gotta buy the film from the clerk.” The only reason she knew exactly where all the cameras were located was because she’d used the room on a number of occasions before, having used the venue to record scenes for film projects or, on one particular night, her evening with a very large yak. Though she’d only planned on showing the stallion a good time, one which may well eclipse any he’d ever had, using their escapade for promotional material would be too perfect. Lowering herself further, kissing the head of his cock with her entrance, she crossed her hooves and hoped he wasn’t about to chicken out. A tense few seconds passed, until ultimately his lust won out over his anxiety. “Can I get a copy?” Coke practically beamed, knowing she had him on the hook. “Once we have it released, I’ll give you a copy and a signed poster. Now just lay back, relax, and buckle up, because you’re in for one heck of a ride.” Keeping her eyes on his face, more than ready to kick off the main event, she didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. Relaxing her legs and continuing her halted downward plunge, her marehood slowly engulfed his twitching dick. She honestly couldn’t say which was better, the sensation of his stallionhood filling her or seeing his face contort in bliss. Deeper and deeper still she went, until she hilted herself and sat on his lap. “Contradulations,” she purred, leaning in and bringing her nose to his, “now you can say you’re a real stud.” Wasting no time, she lifted her hips, unsheathed a portion of his length, and started bouncing on him. She’d fucked more stallions and mares than she could count, yet the joy of bedding somepony never lost its charm. The intimacy of doing something so primal with another, of sating one’s carnal wants, simply couldn’t be beat, which was exactly why she’d chosen to go into her profession. Pressing her chest to his, making sure to lift her tail up and out of the way for the cameras, she clenched her stuffed cunt on the upstrokes and relaxed on the plunges. Starting things slowly and more intimately served a dual purpose; not only did she want to get them both a chance to relish the moment, but any prospective viewers would surely appreciate the sluggish escalation of passion. As she fell into a steady rhythm, she kissed her way over his collar, up his neck, and to his awaiting lips. Looking into her eyes, blushing as heavily as ever, a silly grin split his muzzle. “I didn’t think m…mare like you ki-Mmmph?” She was well aware that most hookers weren’t the biggest fans of kissing on the mouth, preferring to focus on merely getting their customers off, but she wasn’t your average streetwalker. A touch of romance, regardless of how genuine it was, never failed to elevate the experience for her, so she saw no harm in indulging herself. Driving her tongue into his mouth, pressing his head into the pillow, she unhurriedly moved faster and faster. Each descent caused the tip of his length to bump against her cervix, while his thick medial ring ground against her g-spot, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through her system. Given the stud’s size, and with a bit of practice, she could definitely picture him being a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom, but that thought could wait; for the time being, her chief concerns were making sure he enjoyed himself and getting a decent video for later. Breaking their kiss, she slowly pulled away while continuing to hammer her ass on him. “You’re so big,” she groaned, rearing back into a seated position. Aside from stating the obvious, whether he knew it or not, the dirty talk landed perfectly. Lifting and bracing his hind legs, apparently inspired by her flattery, he fiercely bucked into her. She’d figured it wouldn’t take him too long to join in, yet seeing and feeling him take some initiative stoked the flames of her passion. Extending her wings to tousle her mane, she arched her back, closed her eyes, and whimpered. If there was one thing that customers tended to like, it was a show; fortunately for her, she’d always been a bit theatrical when it came to amorous affairs. The position she was currently in, allowing him an unfettered view of his slickened length pistoning into her, was a favorite of hers for a number of reasons; for starters, it felt fucking amazing, hitting all the right spots in her depths - secondly, and more importantly, the concealed camera in the headboard was in the perfect spot to capture the action. Moving in tune with him, hastening to meet his bucking hips, it grew harder and harder not to lose herself to the mounting bliss. The light buzz of the weed elevated the physical pleasure of the sex several times over, making it difficult to think. She knew some ponies completely abstained from any sort of drug, or preferred to get laid while sober, but she just couldn’t see the appeal. As far as she was concerned, a liberal application of recreational substances was no different than including something like hoofcuffs or a ballgag - totally optional, but fun as hell. “Come on, Baby,” she mewled, slamming herself down to gyrate on him, “give it to me.” While the line may have sounded cheesy, she’d meant every word. Screwing herself on somepony could be fun, using them like a living, breathing sex-toy, but she never really enjoyed herself without them taking part. Sure enough, hearing her plea, he gave her just what she’d been hoping for. With a stallionly grunt, keenly watching her lower lips being drawn out and stuffed in by his shaft, the intensity of his thrusts skyrocketed. Reaching between her splayed thighs, using her wings for balance, she furiously rubbed her clit. At the rate he was going, there was a darn good chance that he was going to outlast her, as shocking as the notion was, but she was too worked up to care. The all too familiar warmth radiated through her abdomen, the breath hitched in her throat, and her thighs began to tremble, as she soared towards release. Reduced to little more than to wild animals, the pair went at one another with reckless abandon. While Coke had skill on her side, Beignet was imbued with the preternatural strength of becoming a stallion - that and his massive schlong certainly worked in his favor. Filling the air with a symphony of sin, held to the frenzied Plap Plap Plap of their colliding bodies, they raced to the finish. If it weren’t for her years of practice and the untold hundreds of experiences under her nonexistent belt, she might not have noticed how close Beignet was to his limit. The sensation of his madly throbbing stallionhood, with its tip gradually flaring to nearly double its original size, shook her to the present. Matching every bit of his zeal, slamming her backside against his bucking hips, she did what she could to hold out. Leaning back further, she threw her wings wide. “Inside -” she brayed, yearning to be filled, “don’t you dare pull out!” Though the demand was utterly nonsensical, as how he probably couldn’t throw her off if he tried, it accomplished exactly what she’d hoped for. His grunts shifted to a string of curses, the head of his cock bore against her womb, and his desperate motions ground to a halt, as his stallionhood erupted. Wave after wave of thick, scalding seed shot through his length, crashing against her womb and bathing her interior with his essence. As much as she would have liked to watch his face throughout the ordeal, the roiling influx of virginal foal-batter was the final nail in her coffin. Howling out, flung into a chaotic sea of ecstasy, she came an eyeblink after him.. Her marehood convulsed and gushed orgasmic nectar around his shaft, wetting the bed sheets and lower half, as she lost herself to the rapture threatening to overtake her. As seconds dragged into minutes, the heaved air into their chests and recuperated. She honestly hadn’t thought she’d end up cumming as hard as she had, but she wasn’t about to complain about the sweet hit of dopamine. With only one thing left to do, she launched herself forward, plastered her chest to his, and affectionately nuzzled his neck. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me,” she cooed, raising her waist. Keeping her tail flagged, making sure that the camera captured a view of her snug clinging to his softening tool, she lifted her hips and freed her marehood of his cock. The sensation of his essence leaking out of her winking snatch made her quiver, feeling the warm, sticky spunk ooze from her winking, slightly gaped entrance, and she trembled from hoof to horn because of it. Just as the euphoric afterglow started settling over her, while she rested upon him, he heaved himself up and set her off balance. The move was so quick and so forceful, leaving her on her back near the foot of the bed, that she was too stunned to speak. In a flash, acting like a beast possessed, Beignet launched himself up, threw himself onto his belly, and dove face first between her supple thighs. Looking down at him, past her teats, it was all she could do to watch him dig his tongue into her pussy. It took a lot to surprise her, but having an inexperienced stallion eat his cum out of her cunt left her speechless. Utterly at a loss, it took her a moment to wrap her head around what was happening. Either the stud had some sort of fetish, possibly developed from watching porn, or he’d instantly developed a taste for zebra snatch. Clamping her thighs to his cheeks, effectively leg locking him, she coaxed him deeper. It was only after he’d given her a thorough tongue lashing, cleaning up nearly all of the mess he’d made, did she finally relent. She’d gotten more than enough footage to use for a feature, they’d both climaxed, and she needed a shower before she headed out to the club - still, the spontaneous oral had definitely won him a few brownie points in her book. Relaxing her hind legs, she bent forward and patted the top of his head. “Alright, Romeo, I think that’ll do it,” she giggled. Pushing himself up, as he licked his lips clean, he quickly averted his gaze. “S…sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” “Shit - don’t apologize,” she laughed. “With that sort of enthusiasm, you’re gonna make some mare very happy someday. If I didn’t have shit to do, I’d be happy to let you stay down there for as long as you wanted!” “Really?” he muttered, finally finding the courage to meet her eyes. “Damn right, but I do have shit to do so I will need head out,” she chirped, rolling from the bed and getting to her hooves. Trotting off to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder at him. The poor bastard looked like a kicked puppy, downright crestfallen, and the sight of him plucked at her heartstrings. Lingering by the doorway, she hung and shook her head. While she may have been a hooker, she’d never been one to hurt somepony’s feelings. “Hey, Donut, hop in the shower with me,” she merrily suggested. “We both gotta get cleaned up anyways, so we may as well kill a few birds with one stone.” Only then stepping off the mattress, he peered over at her in disbelief. “You don’t mind?” “Nah I don’t mind - shit, since it’ll take us a few minutes to get washed, I may as well critique your performance,” she remarked, stepping into the restroom and magically setting the shower to run. “Oh yeah, and we still need to discuss those donuts you’re gonna owe me.” Trotting in after her, looking like a colt on Hearth’s Warming morning, he beamed over at her. “Sure! What’s your favorite?” As she stepped into the basin, with the warm water washing over her, she shot him a wink. “I was going to say chocolate, but something tells me that your specialty is cream filled…” Unable to keep a straight face, she burst into laughter - laughter which quickly infected Beignet. She had no way of knowing if he’d ever seek her out for her services again, yet she felt certain she’d be seeing him regularly. Even if she only ended up seeing him occasionally, for fresh pastries or a friendly bit of fun, she was happy to have been his first…