Excuses 1.5 (unfinished/draft) (NSFW)

 

 

No amount of human ingenuity could ever recreate a temperate Equestrian summer afternoon. Air conditioners, heaters, CIA ionosphere manipulation, they were all but paltry imitators of the naturally ideal world of magic that you lived in. Mother nature created the right mixture of humidity, fresh air, a warm breezes that almost pulled you outside, eager to have you frolic in a world of her making. Your thoughts pester you with memories of those afternoons as you trudge through the sideways-blowing snow and biting cold on the way to the train station.

 

Does it really need to be this windy? Normally the weather doesn’t bother you much, but the idea that a group of ponies designed it in such a way as to make your walk miserable felt infuriating. It wasn’t even scheduled to snow for another few days…what’s up with this?

 

A half-mile later you’ve made it to your train and take up your usual seat along a handful of new faces. Some were reading the morning paper, others were reading a damp, wrinkled version of the same paper, and still others were lost in a trance—watching the snow batter the windows a few inches in front of their long faces. It wasn’t the usual crowd you saw on your commute, but you didn’t get any strange looks. You feel a kick in your seat as the mighty locomotive at the head of the train shudders, letting out powerful barks and a screech of its whistle as it slowly lurches forwards. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be working a seven-day week in a land of magic…but it’s for a good cause.

 

You’re mildly pleased that your job turned out to entail more than you first expected; in hindsight the whole idea of building a toaster and getting rich off the millions of families who would buy one was pretty unrealistic. First off, patent laws were starkly different. If an idea was deemed to have the capacity to improve the standard of living, then the most you could hope for was to receive meager royalties off the copies sold. Otherwise, if the idea was deemed less important, you could hold patent rights for anywhere from a few years to life. Since electricity was still in its early development phase only the richest and most current Equestrian families used it, but it was starting to become more affordable. Suffice to say your toaster would likely be taken from you and rebranded a few dozen times before you even saw the first dollar from it.

 

You have nothing against altruism, it’d be the least you could do for a nation that’s made your existence a dream. But you’d since become aware of more pressing matters…and you have more than yourself to think of.

 

Your hand moves to clutch the necklace that holds Dash’s pinfeather to your chest, and amidst a sea of morning moods, a smile crosses your face. She’d definitely crawled back in bed after seeing you off. Your grin cracks when you think back to her groggily packing your lunch before sending you on your way with several longer than usual kisses. The Wonderbolts had cancelled practice for the day so Dash didn’t have a thing to do besides catch up on sleep. You had no doubt she’d do just that.

 

The feather tip graces your sternum under your winter coat. I’d stopped tickling a long time ago, instead, it had become a near-constant reminder of the mare that stole your heart. Some ponies beside you turn to study the gall of the grinning idiot who dared to be happy so early in the dreary morning.

 

Your eyes follow the frosted trees of the countryside as they pass. The hour long train ride didn’t bother you, you just used the opportunity to catch up on sleep or read a book. Obviously the forced relaxation period wasn’t ideal, you don’t have your favorite reading and napping partner—

 

—*cough cough!

 

…and it’s only a matter of time before one of your fellow commuters gets you sick. You hold your breath and count to thirty. You figured that was enough time for whatever’s in the air to settle. Part of you said it was useless paranoia, but another part of you reasoned that your weird habits were what got you through the first bout of the flu unscathed.

 

Apart from the weather and the occasional disregard for personal etiquette, there was little the world imposed upon you that was worthy of complaint. Nevertheless, as you leave city limits a growing dread creeps into your mind and plants a heaviness in your heart—a heaviness that could only be lifted by the smile of a particular blue pegasus.

 

Of course, you never tell her about the effects of your stifling attachment, lest she starts to think you’re becoming too dependent on her. What good is a guy to anyone if he’s not strong and independent? Dash of all mares would value that. But as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t escape the sinking feeling of being apart. The growing acceptance that you’ve got another full work day standing between you and your reunion only makes you sink deeper.

 

You’re swimming in the nectar of a freshly budded romance with the only mare you could possibly imagine yourself with…and here you are riding a train away from it all. To anyone but you the thought would seem clingy, pitiful even. But just like every past commute, it was the only thing on your mind.

 

Canterlot was equally gusty, but the snow had already fallen. Once you get into the meat of the city the buildings break the wind and give you a respite, allowing you to make it to work without further misery.

 

“Mornin’ Anon. Happy Sunday.” The door guard greets.

 

“Good morning Hammerhooves, how’s your brother doing?”

 

“Good, thankfully. Doc says he’ll make a full recovery.” He responds with tempered enthusiasm.

 

“Glad to hear it, keep me updated alright?”

 

The burly stallion nods gratefully and you find an open hook to hang your coat. A sign to the side reads, ‘It’s been 148 days since our last null-field incident. Safety is everypony’s job.” Your footsteps echo through the magic-rich hallway while you nervously play with the nullifying crystal in your pocket. You try not to imagine what it’s like to breathe air that has the consistency of syrup.

 

You breach the final door and enter into the main room. The din is quieter than usual. Apart from a small management team, only those who were really motivated or behind showed up on the weekends. It wasn’t a big deal for most of them as they lived in Canterlot to begin with, but there was a general aura of disgruntlement about.

 

Your small desk lay in the back corner of the physics department—sharing a cubicle with very burly and introverted Minotaur. Despite the creature’s size making it a bit cramped, Dr. Steelhammer was as close as you could get to an ideal work mate. He was exceedingly organized, polite in all his mannerisms, and respected the mutual need for silence during work hours; not to mention he was a great well of knowledge and was nothing but patient with you as you learned the ropes. And unlike you, he was a genuine workaholic; you round the corner and nod a ‘hello’ to his weathered features. You’d gotten used to his permanent scowl. It was strictly a product of his many years spent in cutthroat academia and spoke nothing towards his actual attitude. All in all you were glad to know him.

 

Two hooves suddenly hook over the top of your cubicle followed shortly by a chipper stallion with spiked black hair, “Ayy! What’s crackin’ my favorite homo-sapien!”

 

You knew you’d regret telling him about that term. “Hey Flux, what’re you doing here?”

 

“Oh, I just come here for the free lunch. Why’re you here?”

 

“…Reasons.”

 

If the floor manager was going for diversity, he sure hit the nail on the head by making Flux Field your neighbor. Three species and three very distinct personalities combined to make your daily work experience somewhat of an adventure. Flux’s cubicle mate didn’t count because whoever it was never lasted more than a week with him, and their characteristics were usually drowned-out by Flux’s antics anyways.

 

“Oh-hohohoo! Don’t act so excited to talk to me now I just might have to un-invite you to my birthday party!”

 

You look up at the pegasus’s cocky grin and feign insult, “You take that back!”

 

He scratches his chin as he ponders, “Hmm…ok but only if you promise to share your sandwich.”

 

He’d been trying to get a bite of one of the sandwiches Dash made for you ever since he found out she made them. He was somewhat of a Wonderbolts fan, but as much as you liked him, you do your best to keep him as far removed from her as possible. Call it jealousy or what have you, but Dash made those sandwiches for you and you alone, “Oh. No can do brother. Those sandwiches are far more valuable than our friendship.”

 

He puts a hoof across his forehead and pretends to pass out. A moment later he reappears in your cubicle doorway, “But seriously though I want to try it.”

 

“No Flux.”

 

“Oh come on just one bite!”

 

“No.”

 

He slowly advances as you continue unpacking your stuff, “Fine then just the crust.”

 

“I like the crust.”

 

“But on the 15th of this month at precisely sixteen past twelve I saw you throw the crusts away.”

 

“I…like to look at it, besides, I was about to throw up because of the ammonia spill remember?”

 

He sighs in defeat and you turn your back on him briefly to unlock your desk. A rustling tips you off and you spin around to smack his hoof already half-way into your lunch sack. You point threateningly at him, “Don’t make me report you for workplace harassment.”

 

He pouts and shakes his hoof, “That’s not funny.”

 

Flux was somewhat of a troublemaker and already had thirteen reports under his belt when you met him a few weeks ago. Most were for stupid stuff like ‘pull my hoof’ jokes or the time he kept switching out the adjacent cubicle occupant’s framed photos with cutouts from his obscenely large Playcolt collection. It was the one trump card you had that never expired, “Oh really? I thought you framed them or something.” You retort.

 

His ears perk up again, “Hey, not a bad idea!” And with that he drops the conversation and heads back to his desk. He’s the only pony you know that could give Pinkie a run for her money. He was also really smart. Like, got his masters in electrodynamics at the age of nineteen smart. While school courses weren’t exactly as arduous as they were back on earth, it was still an impressive feat.

 

You take a deep breath and drag fresh stack of papers at your desk corner to your workspace. Nothing like doing math for a living. The mental complaint was more of a holdover from your painfully long university days, but in reality you didn’t hate your job much at all. In fact, it could be quite fun at times. Your eyes drift up to the top of your desk where the framed and signed picture of your mare friend sits. Having something nice to come home to also helps.

 

The smile stays on your face as you put in your earplugs and start your work.

 

 

 

The next thing that interrupts you is the creeping feeling of someone staring at you. You catch Flux’s brown eyes bugging out of his equally brown face in your periphery. You swivel to face him as he mutters something incomprehensible. A mental check reminds you to take out your earplugs, “Did you say something?”

 

“Yeah, I asked if you’re ready to go to lunch yet. Nerd.”

 

“What? Why am I a nerd, I’m not the one named after a physics term?”

 

“…Sure, but I don’t work during my lunch break.”

 

You lean back and squint to check the clock on the far wall. Sure enough, you worked into break again, “Oh, thanks. I didn’t even notice.” You grab your lunch sack and tap Steelhammer’s shoulder. He turns around and takes out his earplugs as well.

 

“You guys are weird, I’ve never used those things and I still get work done.”

 

“I wouldn’t need them either if I was accustomed to hearing myself speak every waking moment of the day.” Steelhammer replies before grabbing his own lunch and walking off to the break area—squeezing through the cubicle entrance sideways.

 

You quirk an eyebrow at the dumbfounded stallion. It was pretty rare to hear the minotaur speak, save for a few cursory words of acknowledgement; that made the well-timed insult seem all the more powerful because of it.

 

“I’m gonna have to talk to my therapist about that one.”

 

“What poor sucker agreed to be your therapist?” You grab your lunch and head to the break room behind your friend.

 

He smirks, “You wouldn’t know him, but I guarantee you he’s not getting paid enough.”

 

Well that’s one way to head off a rebuttal. The waiting room was already full and you pass a group of unicorns on the way out—already having finished their lunches. You take up residence at the nearest open seat and break out your food. A few heads at your table turn but you’ve learned to ignore them.

 

The fact that you were pretty much betrothed to a mare who was arguably the most attractive member of the Wonderbolts had made you somewhat of a celebrity within the workshop. Of course, you never told anyone unless they asked about it, and even then, you shied away from as much attention as possible.

 

What’s she like? Is her mane naturally that color? Does she really eat fish because if so that’s kinda hot? You entertained plenty of questions in your first few days, eager to offer eloquent responses like “awesome,” “yep,” and “it’s none of your damn business.” It was only a matter of time before word spread and ponies began to see you differently, and not in an inherently good way. To them, you were far from a desk-jockey, and it made it a little bit more difficult to get your ideas to stick. Not to mention you were completely lacking in any magical knowledge. You were learning, but it would take years to catch up to the level of your peers…even the ones who didn’t use magic themselves.

 

It would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the attention to some extent, not for any personal benefit, but because you were simply proud of your mare. It was a position that you’d never in your life expected to be in, but here you are, biting into a Dash-made sandwich while four interested stallions watch.

 

To say it was awkward was an understatement. You finish chewing and sputter, “Sorry guys, not today.”

 

They look crestfallen, but what did they expect? You’d never let them have a bite before? In their defense though, they were missing out. Dash liked to overload her PB&Z, as she liked to call it, with a double serving of peanut butter. She made yours with the opposite ratio, doubling up on Zap-Apple jam instead. And dear Celestia is it good.

 

You finish up your meal in relative silence, the exception being your bubbly co-worker of course. Before you head back to work you remind yourself to stop by the boss’s office to check up on your leave request.

 

A week and a half ago Dash had asked if you could take the last week of the month off work for a vacation. You weren’t sure how you could justify a vacation less than a month after starting your job, but you weren’t about to dismiss the possibility, especially considering she’d already gotten the time off.

 

Luckily, the older mares in the employee resources office were more than eager to entertain your last-minute request, and surprisingly enough, they seemed to appreciate your honesty with them and learned that they actually got quite a few cases like yours at this time of the year—probably because of the sickness going around. They even had a special category for mare friends requesting their partners to take leave, they called it ‘spousal convalescent leave,’ and it conveniently lasted for the full seven days Rainbow had asked. You felt guilty and told them that Dash wasn’t really sick, but apparently it wasn’t a big deal. They said it was fine and sent you on your way. They laughed as you left the office but you just ignored them—probably not used to seeing someone so honorable.

 

The only condition was that, per policy, you needed to be employed for a month before you could use that sort of pass. You didn’t quite meet the requirements and they could only waive a few days, but there was a loophole that allowed weekends to carry over into what would be considered the ‘work week,’ hence why you were at work on a Sunday.

 

It meant you had less free time, but it was the only way to ensure that you’d get the week off Dash asked for. Of course, you didn’t tell her you were doing it because of her…no sense in making her feel guilty. As far as she knew, you were just extra busy.

 

A stop by your desk, then few extra turns and a punishing climb up the stairs puts you at Dr. Waveguide’s office door. You knock.

 

“Come in!”

 

As soon as you crest the door frame he pipes up, “Anon! Oh…yes of course, the paperwork. Come in come in.” He says, seeing the leave form in your hand.

 

You look at him skeptically. He knew about Dash, but was he expecting you? “Um…yeah…y-yes Sir.” You walk over to his desk upon his beckoning.

 

“What did I tell you last time; none of that yes-sir no-sir malarky here. Call me doctor if you must but never sir…makes me feel my age.”

 

He did say that last time. You pause just long enough that it’s noticeable and gather your thoughts so as to avoid the classical mistake, “Yes, doctor.”

 

He quirks a brow at you, “Eh…we’ll have to work on it, you somehow made it sound worse than sir.”

 

This time you just nod. He takes the forms from you as he dons his spectacles and fishes for a pen, “Alright…lets see here…” He talks aloud as his eyes scan the form for completion, “Yep…and there…good…” He flips to the next page as he scours the form for discrepancies, “…Monday through Friday huh? Smart, you get the weekend too.” That’s the idea.

 

You stand there awkwardly and contemplate how to position your hands, what is it called, parade rest or something? The mental image of a serviceman holding their hands behind their back comes to mind. Looks professional. You mirror it.

 

“…And last page…” he taps his pen on each category he passes, but the third one makes him crack the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on his weathered features, “Well, well, well, would you look at that.” You lean over to get a better look at the cause of his humor, did you screw something up? The ER department said it looked good?

 

Dr. Waveguide notices and fills the gaps for you, “I’m guessing this wasn’t your idea?” He asks, tapping the box labeled ‘spousal convalescent leave.’

 

They must’ve screwed it up, but he’s still smiling…”No sir.” Dammit!

 

Whether he noticed your slip of tongue or not he doesn’t react, “I figured it was something like that…or you found out you really hate us-ha ha ha ha ha!”

 

What is this all about? Despite your mentor-like relationship with the older unicorn, you really felt uncomfortable with asking him what exactly was flying over your head, “D-don’t worry about that. I am enjoying it more than I thought.”

 

“Well I’m glad to hear it!” To your astonishment, he signs the bottom of the page—granting you the next week off starting tomorrow. He collects all the pages neatly before holding them out with a grin, “Remember, stay hydrated and stick to her normal diet and everything should be fine.”

 

You smile and match his nod as you take the papers from him. In a practiced motion, you manage to transition back to your mildly pleased expression without giving away the fact that you’d stumbled and were now free-falling into another culture gap.

 

As you get to the door, your boss pipes up one last time, “…And remember to enjoy yourself!”

 

“I will, thank you s-doctor.” The door clicks shut and you take a deep breath. What could you possibly be missing out on this time?

 

Once back at your desk you sort the paperwork and pin the signed leave form to your bulletin board. Seeing it there removed all the remaining motivation you had to be at work, but you push on anyways, pausing only to contemplate the sage stallion’s words. At least Dash doesn’t have any problems staying hydrated…and she’s not sick. You’re suddenly hit with guilt from tricking your boss. Well, the ER department said it was ok…still doesn’t make it right though. After a brief battle, the priorities of your mare win out and you put it out of your mind to finish off the day’s work.

 

 

 

Your heart races as you turn the doorknob to your apartment. At the first hint of it giving way you swing the door wide open—casting lantern light into the dimly lit room. The darkness in the room surprises you and you swing the door shut in a hushed fashion. If Dash has the lights off then she might be sleeping. As your vision adjusts to the darkness you can barely make out the fact that your bed wasn’t made. That’s no surprise. If you weren’t there to do it yourself it wouldn’t get done. Dash frequently commented on how she thought it was a waste of time.

 

There’s no sign of her in the room and you briefly wonder if she’s even here, but the fresh spice that hung in the air was evidence that your mate not only was here, but had also skipped her morning shower. It was interesting how much motivation was lost when she didn’t have you around to keep her in check.

 

You make it a few paces into the room before your foot hangs up on something. You almost trip trying to catch yourself, and instead of hitting the floor, you crash into the table and knock over some dirty plates. You look back to see what you’d tripped over, and instead find the hazardous article of clothing still around your shoe. You reach down and unbind it before examining it.

 

Your sense of touch helped more than your sight, and it took a moment to realize they were a pair of your boxer briefs…with a fresh tear in them.

 

“Dammit!” Those were hard to come by.

 

Down the hall you can hear your toilet flush and a brief glance tells you your bathroom light is on. No longer concerned about waking her you stumble around and flip on your desk lamp.

 

“Whoa…”

 

The sight that lay before you was nothing short of a battlefield. The thick comforter that had been necessary these past few weeks was completely off the end of the mattress—thrown loose with enough frustration to untuck it towards the end. The sheets were a wadded mess and your pillow was buried somewhere in their midst. That alone wouldn’t have been too far out of the ordinary had you spent the day together play fighting and partaking in the things loving and consenting adults did. However, she had the room to herself all day...and she usually doesn’t throw your dirty clothes everywhere.

 

You were far from a perfectionist, but you’re pretty sure most of those were in the hamper when you left this morning. A quick test of your theory seems to support it; a trail of socks and various items span your soiled linen depository and your bed. The vast majority seemed to make the trip, but at the same time you could tell she wasn’t particularly concerned with the effectiveness of the maneuver. It’s almost like she was...in a hurry?

 

The sink comes on full blast in the background and you shrug. Maybe she was practicing folding them or something. A smirk crosses your face when you start to imagine how you’re going to give her a hard time about the mess. You strip your work clothes and sit down to take off your shoes. That’s when you notice something else.

 

Your dresser drawers were all crooked, much like you’d imagine they would be if a certain pegasus had gone through them before closing them hastily. Just what has gotten into her? Not that you minded one bit, but she’s usually a bit more careful. The way you see things, what’s yours is hers, so you’re not even close to being upset. But it’s still strange. You toss your used socks at the open hamper—intending to bank the wadded ball off the wall for a three-pointer.

 

Of course, it misses. You sigh, just more for you to pick up.

 

You spend the next minute doing exactly that, and in no time at all your messy room was back to just a tornado of disarray rather than an earthquake. Or an earthquake rather than a tornado…whichever one makes less of a mess. The sink shuts off and your heart skips a beat. You wait for the inevitable sound of the door to open and hoof steps to move down your hallway, but they never come.

 

Instead, you hear something fall in the bathroom and Dash quite loudly scurries to fix it, “You good in there Dash?” You yell over your shoulder.

 

The scurrying stops and you get no response, ”Hey Dash are you alright?”

 

You hear her hooves clack around on the tile floor, but she still doesn’t answer. The uncharacteristic lack of response tips you off that something’s not right. In an instant your spine goes cold and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You find yourself spurred into motion even before you can fully comprehend it.

 

Your heels strike the ground with deliberate force as you hurriedly move to rejoin your mate. You didn’t even contemplate knocking first; your concern for your partner drowned out all other thoughts.

 

You storm into the small bathroom and immediately spot Dash. Both of you freeze—locked in a trance as you appraise one another. The first thing you notice is that the tightness in your chest relaxes, despite the situation there was nothing seriously wrong. Dash is ok. The second thing you notice is that she appears to be in the process of drying the floor with a towel; why it was wet you have no idea. The final fact the unusual scene revels is that she’s just as messy as the room she’d obviously spend most of her day in. Her mane was frazzled and protruding in all sorts of directions. Cyan feathers on her folded wings broke symmetry with their neighbors, a common side effect of excess friction.

 

The small room also carries carries the essence of her musk—something your trained nose was able to discern over the pungent artificial citrus of the air freshener. Tidbits of information framed the crime scene, but her eyes told you the whole story.

 

Dilated seas of magenta that at first conveyed surprise, now conveyed a new message, or rather, their original one. She’s happy to see you. As much as you try to find something amiss with her, you can’t. As far as you can tell, you’re looking at the happiest mare alive.

 

“Heya Anon!”

 

In the span it takes you to soak in everything that just happened, she rockets into your chest and envelopes you in a hug.

 

Of course, you hug back, “Hey Dash...you doing alright?”

 

The apparent concern in your voice doesn’t even phase her, meaning that whatever was bothering her, if anything, wasn’t severe enough for her to end the embrace early. She squeezes you tighter before she lets you go; the next look she gives you tells you that you haven’t met your daily kiss quota to pay for the answer you sought. The panicked and confused state you’ve been in finally yields your heart back to your more excited spirit. You take a knee and she hops up to meet you standing. The lack of coordination results in a position where her forehooves are on your shoulders and her lips smile down at yours from the high ground. Rather than comment on it she just kisses you.

 

Her pointed muzzle in all of its fuzzy splendor mashes into your waiting lips and you share the kiss you’ve both kept pent up inside all day. Rather than starting with a warm up round like you usually do, she jumps right in to tackle the root of the problem, that being: your mouths just never seemed to taste right without the flavor of your partner pervading them. It was something you’d actually started noticing more and more lately, and strangely enough, Dash seemed to develop the same complex accordingly. On your mutual off days there was nothing to keep you from sharing a peck between bites of your lunch, or a deeper kiss whenever you caught each other’s eye for more than a few seconds, but the work week infringed upon your naturally close bond.

 

As much as you hated to admit it, you were somewhat of a high-maintenance couple. Not in the sense that you constantly owed each other favors and flowers, but in the sense that if you weren’t at the very least free to show your affection, your happiness was subject to a sort of glass ceiling. But that’s a thought for another time…Right now you’ve got an unusually eager pegasus to deal with and the sky is the limit.

 

Your back thuds against the wall as Dash kisses into you with more force. Her forehooves wrap around your neck as much as they can and your equivalent appendages find a hold around her withers. Her breathing grows more ragged as soon as you touch her and her fuzzy lips double their dexterous duty to massage yours. You can tell that her mane wasn’t the only thing frazzled about her; tufts of her back fur were bent out of place and others were matted together in thick clumps. She suddenly breaks away with a smack and short string of saliva.

 

Her glassy eyes tell you not to speak, “Uhh...how do you fe—mmmpf!”

 

Before you can form your sentence she’s back on you again. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this...because you definitely do, but you still had lingering concerns about what caused her uncharacteristic implosion in your apartment. You try to contemplate it, but you quickly run into the same mental block that’d been there since you first tested it. You can’t think and kiss at the same time.

 

So you don’t.

 

You redouble your own efforts and push back into her with almost as much force as she’s using to pin you to the wall. She seems to like that. You can feel a smile grow on your wet lips and she lets out a particularly deep exhale. Her tongue moves at the same time yours does and they both exchange a complimentary flick in greeting before continuing on into their partner’s maws. Almost immediately you notice something different…a new taste? It was incredibly thin and nearly imperceptible, but it was most definitely present. It tastes like the icing on those sugar cookies grandma used to get you for your birthday. She must’ve broken down and cheated on her diet… The thought makes you smile, not because of all the teasing she has in store, but because you were privy to so many little aspects of her life that no one else would even know about.

 

Hands sprawl through the short fur of her upper back and forelegs constrict around your neck—reducing your breathing down to only what your excited partner breathes out. Instead of complaining you chooses to deal the hand you’ve been dealt, after all, Dash was in the same predicament...if you could call it that.

 

The mare groans and takes another short breath before loudly swallowing. The obnoxious sound momentarily echoes through the room before being pursued by long bout of tongue smacking. Her slick muscle explores your mouth with a vigor; after getting its fill of its counterpart, it moves to your teeth.

 

Dash had developed somewhat of a fixation with your teeth, in particular, the pointy spires you like to call canines. She demonstrates that fixation for the better part of the next minute as she licks incessantly at them. You can hear the tastebuds of her long, slender tongue scraping against your enamel point, and you have to restrain yourself from stopping her. Despite your valid concerns, she’s repeatedly assured you that ‘It doesn’t hurt, it’s…it just…’ What exactly it did for her you may never know, but if her bashful stammering was any indication, it was one of those things that scratched her itch in that special way.

 

Your mare continues for an amazing minute of oral caressing before finally showing signs of slowing, and even then she keeps going. Her tongue now gracefully slides with yours—taking turns prodding into each other’s territory. When her lips finally retreat with a pop, she leaves you with a teaspoon of her saliva and a wetted appetite for something more.

 

Eyes finally open to gaze into each other. You can tell immediately what she wants from the look alone. And if that wasn’t enough, her rigid wings awkwardly spanning the small bathroom and displacing the shower curtains definitely were.

 

“You were about to ask me something?” Dash prods with a smirk. Her grip on your shoulders still gave her the high ground.

 

Were you? “Uh…*ahem...yea—” Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, sending Rainbow into a bout of the giggles. Dang, usually she's the one that cracks like that. You compose yourself, “Yeah...I was.” You congratulate yourself on getting the words out amidst an assault of hot breath and endorphins.

 

Her smirk widens, “And that would be…?” she purrs melodically.

 

Crap, you didn’t think you’d make it this far. You are vaguely aware of a thread of a thought, something in the back of your mind that demanded rectification before reward. If it hadn’t been there you’d already be tending to her wings, “O-oh yeah!” you exclaim, “You just…um, you didn't answer when I called out. Are you feeling okay?”

 

She giggles, moving her muzzle under your jaw and nudging it in a way she knows you like. She pulls back again with a hint of embarrassment flushing her face, “I-I’m uh…I’m better now that you’re here.”

 

This mare...Surely she knows by now that the warmth of her contact and the scratchiness in her voice were your biggest weakness, and perhaps she was banking on it being enough to dissuade you from any further questioning, but you still weren’t satisfied, “Come on Dash, you know you can tell me if something’s up.”

 

Her cheeks tint a shade darker and her furry ears flatten to her head. Her normally foolproof plan didn’t work and she’s not sure how to handle it; her eyes dart around the small room, “N-n-nothing’s wrong! Don’t worry about me, I’m just uh…b-bored.” Heh, she didn’t think I’d make it this far either. Your fingers comb through her mane and she awkwardly tolerates it.

 

“Bored huh…?” You pose the rhetorical question. Despite what she told you, something’s definitely up with her. You put it aside for the moment and instead focus on the unmistakable smell of musk…perhaps she didn’t want to make a mess? If so, you’re not sure why she would’ve stopped there considering the other sorts of disarray. Your eyes drift to her shrinking wings; the longer the silence lasts the more awkward and embarrassed she feels. You must’ve been intimate dozens of times now…and she still gets flustered. You would always find her unexpected reservedness incredibly cute, but sometimes you wished she would be more active in voicing her desires. At least then you would know for sure if you were meeting them.

 

Either way you feel like you have a pretty good idea.

 

“I think you need a bath.” You jab a finger into her sternum.

 

Her magenta eyes follow the finger, then pull up to meet yours, “A b-bath?” Her tail twitches as she looks at you wide-eyed.

 

You lean back against the wall; your hands knead her shoulders, “A bath. It’s a thing you where you wash yourself in order to appear more presentable in society.”

 

A smile grows on her face and she pushes your shoulder, “I know what a bath is dummy!”

 

“Oh really?” You fight off her forceful nuzzles with some of your own and simultaneously catch some of her oily mane in your hand to examine. To be honest, you preferred the natural smell of you partner over scented soaps and shampoo. You considered it your guilty pleasure in a way, though neither of you felt much guilt in expressing it. The best way you could describe it was spicy…like the edge of a cologne isle in a department store but with the distinctly earthy smell of air-wicked fur and a touch of sweat. By anyone’s standards it wasn’t bad, pungent perhaps, but not bad. However, you’d spent more time with her than most. After countless hours of leisurely lounging, and passionate nights you’d come to associate her specific scent with all things positive.

 

Her eyes watch your hand sift through her hair—knowing full well your earlier statement was a front to gauge her receptiveness. But despite her apparently aroused state, something was holding her back. A quick peck on the nose snaps her out of her train of thought and brings her back to the present. She finds your eyes, the light of excitement dancing in her own. That simple look answers your unspoken question and you offer her a smile before patting her withers.

 

The signal to let you up works as intended and you move to warm up the shower. The antique pipes shudder and groan in the wall as they fill with pressure, and after a brief delay, water sprouts from the cheap showered. The sound of the door closing behind you spins you around and you catch your partner standing next to it with a guilty look on her face. The intimate implications force a blush to her cheeks and she instead occupies herself with readying some towels under the sink.

 

You start to disrobe and Dash steals some obvious peeks at you. She keeps digging around under the sink longer than she needs to in order to stay occupied. You stop keeping tabs on her, and in a few practiced movements you’re completely in the nude with the exception of your feather necklace. Despite a few weeks worth of reassurances from your partner, being naked around her was still a big step for you. But, you were trying to improve, and so you didn’t think twice about bending over to turn on the water.

 

*crash!

 

The cabinet door slams shut unintentionally, startling both you and Dash from the unexpectedly loud sound so close to you. Her unanticipated wing flare had launched the door shut from her seated position, but she doesn’t immediately make that connection and instead skitters away in momentary panic—twisting around and sweeping towels off the rack with her exploding wingspan.

 

Her hooves scurry to get under her center of gravity, but they don’t get much traction on the hard tile. She slips, staying momentarily suspended in midair just long enough for you to register a mixture of confusion and panic on her face. Then, she comes crashing down against the wall with a thud—the violently thrown towel sailing down next to her wincing form.

 

She stays grounded on her back, her wings spread out and her hooves and head tucked to her body; one squinted eye peeks over at you somewhat sheepishly. She very rarely made a blunder that couldn’t be at least partially blamed on someone or something else, but this time there was no denying the embarrassing miscalculation. Luckily, the vibrant pegasus had a second layer of safety when it came to maintaining her reputation.

 

“You good Captain Athleticism?” You ask while fighting off your smirk.

 

She stares blankly at you, knowing she won’t be able to get up without another unsightly struggle, “Yeah, I’m good, I just uh…saw your penis.” Well…that could be taken as a compliment. The bluntness of her confession was no coincidence, you were the last person on the planet that would shame her for anything, least of all a symptom of her attraction to you. That knowledge gave her the confidence to say what she did, and for what it’s worth it’s kind of flattering. You walk over to her and just stare into her unflinching eyes for a moment until she suddenly bursts out laughing, “Ahahahahahaha!”

 

Silly pony. You kneel down to start helping her up, struggling to get a good grip on her petite frame as it rocks with laughter, “On a completely unrelated note I think it’s great that you serve as a role model to countless fillies and colts.”

 

“Hahahahaha-*gasp-ahahaha!”

 

You finally get a solid hold and hoist her up—carefully slinging her over your shoulder liked the prize she is, “I think you’ll instill good virtues in them you know? Loyalty, courage, appreciation for the appeal of the human form…”

 

“Hahaha-stahahpit! Ahahaha-hehehee!” She batters you bare shoulder with her hooves and you throw in some jabs at her sides to make her squirm. But it only makes it more awkward navigating to the shower. The hardest part was finding an angle that would accommodate her six-foot wingspan. No wonder you never did it in the shower before.

 

By the time you’ve finally figured out a game plan, the mare in your arms had calmed down and was starting to show more of the signs you’d picked up on earlier. Her forehooves cling to your neck and as you reposition your supporting hand on her posterior, she groans and her tail flicks up from the bottom of your vision. Her strong musk gets wafted into the resulting air current that meets your nose, apparent even over the already potent musk that was permeating the room.

 

You slide the curtain aside and step into the cascade of hot water. A thousand droplets massage your skin and begin to darken Dash’s fur. They bounce off her wings with the sound of rain on a tarp—sliding effortlessly off the feathers that were kept slick by her natural body oils. You pull the curtain closed behind you and plunge yourselves into a darker shade of the room’s already dim magical lighting. You lower Dash down to your chest and lay her against the wall for balance, careful to cushion the back of her head with a hand. Her hind legs lock around your hips and she fidgets her pelvis closer to you.

 

The simple suggestive action flips a switch in your head and you throb to life. You hear her breathing skip as the full length of your member rises against her conveniently located cushions.

 

Almost instantly you feel her muscles instinctively contract to release a bit of her own product onto you, distinctly hotter and more viscous than the surrounding shower water. Even so, the intimate touch wasn’t what occupied your mind. Instead, you were fixated on her gorgeous eyes and what they were telling you. Her fiery irises dilate to see you better as her breathing deepens. She winces in pleasure and her hooves clamp tight around you as she tucks her protruded wing into the corner with a mixture of strength and sheer will. For a moment, you remain there, nose-to-nose; two bare bodies held close by mutual effort and the shared desire for intimacy. The only thought that fills your mind is how receptive her body feels and how sweet her breath tastes as you breathe her in. How have you not noticed that before?

 

Water claims more and more of her fur—trapped by her mane and released in long streams down her body. Moisture seems to unlock the true potency of the mare’s alluring scent and you realize that the unique musk you associated with a very special spot between her hind legs was coming from elsewhere. Her forehooves.

 

Your supporting hand stretches a bit to stroke her heated bits, “A-Anon, just take it easy I’m kinda s-s-sensitive—“

 

“—Shhh…” You interrupt her nervous stammering. If her eager body hadn’t made her cravings apparent, the tone in her voice sure did. You lean in cheek-to-cheek to whisper into her ear, “…You don’t need to say it…” Your hands hold the back of her head and a tense cheek of her flank as you plant a kiss on the back of her jaw, “…I figured it out…the clothes on the bed…the feathers on your wings…the mess you were cleaning up when I called out to you…” Dash gulps. Her expressive ear had tried to perk up at first, but promptly retreated back to its nape when you started citing evidence that proved its owner guilty of self-pleasure. You free a hand and fish a forehoof from your neck which you hold tentatively between you.

 

You pull back to look her in the eye. Water had flattened her colors to her face and muzzle, but her magenta orbs still peered at you behind a violent blush, “…I’m not as dumb as I look you know.”

 

The edge of her hoof gets a brief kiss before you nuzzle her jaw. Then, you pin it to her chest and lick her soft frog.

 

“Mmmmh!”

 

She squeaks and drips some more of her fluid onto your ever-hardening shaft.

 

She definitely worked herself over, you ponder, as you savor the special tang native to her crotch. You dive back in to clean up her frog before the pounding water can. The poor mare struggles to end the tease as your tongue traces every line of her sensitive under hoof; her free hoof grabs around your butt and pulls desperately in a vain attempt to get you to closer to her, but you don’t yield…at least not right away.

 

The pegasus mare’s genitals twitch against yours, so close yet so far away from fulfilling their respective purposes. Finally, her forehoof is clean and you bury your face in her neck, pressing your torsos closer to prevent the falling water from rudely separating you. You kiss into her neck while hopping her up in your arms to reposition. Pulling away from her neck, you meet her love-filled eyes and are immediately struck by the intensity of her desire. Despite her apparent success earlier, she needs you.

 

The tip of your throbbing, wet glans prods gently around her sex. She squeaks she was letting out reminded you of her lingering sensitivity and you adjust your pace accordingly. However, you weren’t the only one who had some say in the matter. Once you strike gold, Dash relaxes her hind legs’ grip on your hips and swiftly buries you.

 

“Haagh!”

 

Geography of her plot gives way and your desperate shaft effortlessly fills an equally desperate canal. You barely have time to adjust for her lack of support and the sudden influx of pleasure before she begins grinding into you.

 

“Ngh!”

 

Hands move to her wings and find purchase on the thickest, feathery, leading edge that encompassed her highly developed humerus bones. Her hind legs tighten around you again as you begin pressing into her with equal effort. She hands over the reins to you as your thrusting picks up a relaxed but deliberate pace. You hover near the back of her jaw and vie for a stable position for you and your partner, and your knee knocks the soap bar off of its holder, freeing it to slide around on its own lubricity. Crap, where did it go?

 

Dash doesn’t give you much time to think about that as she tightens her grip on your hips to bury you deep in her sweltering tunnel. You bring a leg up to get an extra half-inch closer to your precious mare, only to realize there’s no comfortable way to brace it, “Gah! Rainbow I—“

 

—*smack!

 

Your head bounces off the tile wall next to hers, but you keep your mare braced safely in your grasp. You just slipped and smacked your face on a wall, Dash is never going to let you live that down…but at least you know where that soap bar is now.

 

“Anon!”

 

Two fuzzy hooves pull your head into her cheek and she starts gently caressing the sore spot. Your lovemaking quickly shifts gears as your mare begins tending to your sudden injury as if your life depended on it. She positions her muzzle to trace her smooth tongue along the affected area; the psychological numbing affect is instantaneous, and in your mind’s eye you imagine her felt ribbon as a sympathetic eraser, undoing all of your blunders and rewriting history in your favor. If Dash ever got a job at the hospital she’d put the doctors out of work.

 

You were pretty sure her remedy had some legitimate medicinal affects, but seeing the expressions of her obvious care for you did more than any magical healing ever could. Hot water washes your merged bodies—pouring off her rump and down your legs in heavy streams while her muzzle works to fix you the only way she knows how. In no time at all, you’re back to a hundred percent and you thank her by nuzzling her wet jaw.

 

Your eyes meet, one pair are filled with concern, the others, gratefulness. How did you ever manage to find a mare like her…”I was going to tell you, I love you.”

 

The concern leaves her eyes and she dips her muzzle to hide her reaction as best she could, “Y-You sure you’re ok?” She gently presses her pinfeather token to your wet chest.

 

Gosh you love her so much, “Thanks to you.” You whisper. She timidly flickers up and down to meet your gaze, but a peck on her nose draws her attention, “It’s my turn to take care of you now.”

 

Her eyes briefly widen as she remembers the contact in her nethers. Your words were as meaningful as they were provocative. For whatever reason, she’d needed you today and you weren’t here for her; that thought brought a heaviness to your heart that could only be lifted by acting on your pent up feelings.

 

*squelch

 

The noise that twitches her ears over the sound of rushing water doesn’t make her blush…or at least it doesn’t make her existing blush worse. With the exception of a few wayward water droplets, you don’t even blink as you start to pick up your pace.

 

The shower head sputters as it dislodges a bubble in its feed line—steam visibly rises from the tiny streams and gradually raises the humidity level. You can barely make out the sweet taste of her breath on the thick air you and your partner desperately stole from each other. You can’t really smell it, but it tastes so sweet. Your mind tells you to seek it out at its source.

 

Lips mash into each other and you waste no time sending your tongue on the errand. She entertains your eagerness, guiding you around to the most frequented exhibits. Surprisingly, her taste hadn’t abated as you’d expected. If anything it’d gotten stronger.

 

Your breathing grows more rapid, not from your approaching climax, but from sheer desperation for your partner. You need more of her.

 

Hips slow and your tempered sword buries itself in your lovers natural sheath. Once you’re as deep as you can go you start nudging into her. The action subjected her clitoris to a constantly shifting environment; when it tried to escape its own hood from overstimulation, it found itself pressed into your ticklish pubes. The result was a rapid flicking from one position to another as it sought respite…and a appropriately squirmy pegasus.

 

“Nnnnnh!” She squeals into your mouth and her soaked wings writhe against the shower wall as if trying to paint an erotically inspired snow angel. You massage her leading edges and keep up your crotch rubbing, but your main focus was still on uncovering the source of the incredibly alluring, and until today, foreign taste that seemed to emanate from Dash’s kiss.

 

Just as the flavor started growing stronger, your access gets cut off. Her tongue becomes uncontrollably guarded, along with the rest of her body—tense from the sum of pleasure you were giving her.

 

“Mgh!…Mhh!…Ngh!…”

 

Dash grunts into your kiss as you edge her closer through a proven combination of depth and friction. Her hot hole gives you a few warning hugs as she starts to go into her prefatory clenches. You stroke the lengths of her strained wings and pull your tongue back to tickle the insides of her lips…all while keeping count on her random squeezes. Interestingly enough, she seemed to consistently follow a pattern; her timing varied, but she always clenched precisely six times before the finale.

 

Her grunts fall silent as she nears…two…three…four—

 

“—Mmh!”

 

Your mare tips the edge and orgasms quietly on your throbbing penis. So much for figuring her out.

 

Her feeble grunt never escapes your deep kiss. Her wing joints knock against the tile walls, jerking in pleasure and trying in vain to extend. You’d been so lost in her mouth that you hadn’t realized how good of a job she’d done in milking you. A distinctly thicker stream of hot fluid running down your thigh shifts your attention back to your juncture and you’re instantly overcome by the success of her efforts.

 

You moan into your partners mouth just before your hips shudder and push deeper. You throb and fire off into her tract with just enough force to race your fluid up her wrinkled walls against gravity. You get a return moan from her and feel her abs shudder from the uniquely ticklish sensation. The next few moments are lost to time as the shower head drones on indifferent to its mating occupants.

 

When your eyes open, hers are already waiting for you with a smile. You break your kiss for the first time since you’d begun copulating and soak up the full sight of her grinning face. Her unusually wide grin on her usually rosy cheeks didn’t warrant an explanation, you already knew. In your time together you’d come to realize that she gauged her success by how fast she finished you, and your unusually short performance just now made her ecstatic.

 

You weren’t sure why, nor did you understand how she defeated your usual stamina in just over a minute. She hooks a hoof around your head and pulls you into her massaging lips as if to congratulate you on your performance. Under normal circumstances you’d be a bit disappointed that you couldn’t satisfy her naturally higher libido the way she’d grown accustomed to, but her smiling, smacking lips manage to convince you that it didn’t matter.

 

For the moment, you make out passionately as you both celebrate another successful bonding moment. You break with a squeak and breathe.

 

“That was-*huff awesome.” She remarks.

 

“Y-Yeah.” You reply, out of breath.

 

You stay inside her for the moment and she thoughtfully refrains from fidgeting in light of your post-orgasm sensitivity. Instead, you occupy yourselves by nuzzling and kissing as the water continues to berate your steamed bodies. The proud smile on her face was still evident as she kissed along your jaw, then down your neck, and it forced yours to mirror as you return the caress. The short fur of her neck is lush with moisture that gets effectively removed via your sucking kiss. You chuckle to yourself at the new discovery. More kisses shower her neck as you suck the water from her fur, and you start to feel a new addiction coming on. The mineral-rich tap water actually tastes good once it’s filtered through her fur.

 

It was a week ago to date that you’d learned ponies could indeed get hickeys. It wasn’t easy to do as her fur would normally prevent a good seal, but the water in this case allowed just that. Lips plant another sucking kiss on her neck and pull off with a loud pop.

 

Dash’s neck was more sensitive than she’d initially let on, and if her vigorous return hickeys said anything, she definitely enjoyed them. You can’t help but giggle at the therapeutic feeling of her vacuum kisses as you leave more marks on each other to prove your feelings.

 

An aftershock in her crotch makes you realize that you hadn’t shrunk one bit, and to avoid getting her worked up half-way, you make an effort to pull out. Once you break the tight seal, the products of a day’s worth of daydreaming comes pouring out to audibly slosh onto the floor. Her ears perk and she pulls back to meet your terrible blush—obviously flattered by the volume of your gift. She blushes and licks your heated cheeks, simultaneously acknowledging and quelling the fires of embarrassment that fanned up uncontrollably.

 

You take your time rinsing yourselves off before carrying her out of the shower much the same way you carried her in. Her wings were still out, but after a good orgasm, they tended not to be nearly as stiff.

 

You let her to her hooves and help dry her off before using the same towel on yourself. As you go to hang it up, you notice the crossbar of the rack is loose; a closer examination reveals that the screws were ripped halfway out of the wall, “Dang Dash, your wings are pretty strong.”

 

She steps over to look at the rack out of curiosity, “Uhh…heheh, sorry. But it’s your fault too ya know.”

 

Here come the excuses, “You know, I’m not even worried about it.” You thread the towel behind the bar and drop it on the rack—ripping it the rest of the way out of the wall. Your cat-like reflexes force your foot to dodge right into the path of the tumbling crossbar and it impacts with a muffled thud.

 

You suck in a deep breath of air and contemplate letting out a string of expletives, but instead you just hold it.

 

Dash stifles a giggle with her hoof, “Heh, here, lemme get that.” She cleans up yet another broken fixture in your beat-up apartment and lets you rub your foot.

 

“Thanks…I guess we’re just clumsy tonight.”

 

The pegasus essentially brushes everything into the corner to be dealt with at a later date, “Speak for yourself bud. Who you calling clu-umsy?” Her brief stutter is accompanied by tail twitch and wink. Aftershocks like these were pretty commonplace for her so you chose not to mention it, after all, you felt much more comfortable in your nakedness with the sexual tension having already been relieved.

 

“Look, all I’m saying is that there were mistakes on both sides—“

 

“—Like the uh, heh…the soap bar?” She interjects with a mirthful grin.

 

You own your mistake, “Yes, like the soap bar. But even with that you still liked it.”

 

She blushes and gets defensive, “Th-that’s b-beside the point…”

 

“Oh is it?” You wiggle your brows to make her even redder. She’s so cute when she does that.

 

“Y-yeah! And you f-finished fast too!”

 

“Well, what can I say? You’re a beautiful mare.” You pause and wait for the extremely gratifying look of pleasant surprise cross her face. She has no response for your compliment and you don’t ask for one, instead you limp over to the counter to brush your teeth.

 

In your defense you were only mildly exaggerating your injury, nevertheless, Dash doesn’t let you get away with it, “You want me to get you some crutches dude?” She prods weakly. The jab almost sounded like genuine concern as she tried in vain to be anything but smitten.

 

Maybe it is a genuine question, “Nah, I think I’ll be alright.” You prep your toothbrush and squeeze some paste onto hers.

 

“Thanks.” She responds before beginning her surprisingly thorough brush, “Buh uh, iph ou wanh some I cah.”

 

For a speed junkie like her she sure takes her time on the strangest of things, you ponder as she scrubs her teeth like a regular hypochondriac. In the background, your brain finishes deciphering her garbled speak in time to respond in rhythm, “Nope, I’m a pretty tough guy you know.” You peek over just in time to catch her amused look, “Especially when I’ve got my favorite mare to dote on me.” You finish with a playful mane-ruffle.

 

Instead of dodging away like she usually does, she leans into your gesture with a simple smile. Huh…that never failed to annoy her before, and no snarky comeback for the comment.

 

Putting the thought aside, you wet your brush and get to business. The lingering humidity in the small room absorbed any reverberation of your vigorous brushing; it had also fogged up the mirror to the point that you were little more than tan and blue smudges.

 

You take the initiative and clear a spot in front of your face to see, and a moment later, Dash copies you. Another few seconds of inactivity pass while you switch to your upper jaw. Dash abandons the brush in her mouth to free a hoof again, but instead of making a bigger spot for herself, she clears one to give you a line of sight to each other.

 

With the relative anonymity of the hazy mirror broken, a smile cracks your face. Her lively magenta eyes make it hard to focus on the task at hand; there’s not much privacy in this apartment anymore…and you’re perfectly ok with that.

 

She stays there for a moment, her toothbrush cocked out to one side of her muzzle, her forehoof held tentatively to her chest. One more correction: this time she rounds out the upper edges and tapers the bottom. Finally satisfied, she settles back down and resumes brushing with tucked ears and a giddy smile.

 

It takes you a moment to focus on anything but her face, but once you do, you realize she’d formed a heart on the glass.

 

If you could melt, you would’ve right then and there. This is what you live for. Quiet moments like these where she lets her guard down and gives you glimpses of her feelings.

 

No words could express what you have to say, and if there were any you wouldn’t be able to speak anyways. So you just keep brushing; all the while keeping your loved one’s beautiful face framed in a portrait of her own creation. You finish first, but keep scrubbing anyways until your partner’s done—otherwise you’d feel guilty for moving and breaking the perfect symmetry.

 

With her enamels cleaned, she spits and rinses, grinning to check her sparkly whites in the waning haze of her reflection. Once you’ve done the same, you gather your clothes and break the seal on the door. Cold air chills your damp bodies and sends a shiver down your spine. The rainbow mare takes a short lead with a perk in her step. Contrary to what you’d expect, she wasn’t getting any more accustomed to the lingering sensations; the only reason she wasn’t tripping over herself was because of your relatively short encounter.

 

She pauses when she gets to the living room but quickly realizes you must’ve cleaned up before your reunion. You risk the frigid air to fish a pair of boxers out of the dresser and she patiently sticks by your side. You peer over at her, intrigued by her decision to wait for you, but you only get a blank stare that offers no answers.

 

Bedding down for the night was your favorite time of the day; it was warm, relaxing, and brimming with pleasant memories. But most of all, it was an opportunity to snuggle up close and converse with the furry blue pegasus you so desperately loved. You pull back the blankets and Dash crawls in before you—holding it open with her wing to let you in after. With both your bodies under the same tent, she collapses the roof and fidgets closer.

 

Blue hooves weave through your limbs to wrap around your chest and you feel her wing unfurl across you while she burrows her muzzle into the crook of your neck. She exhales a hot breath—the first of many you’d be blessed with tonight. This is perfect.

 

The brief moment of mandatory snuggling is punctuated by an equally mandatory lip peck, then she speaks, “Did ya get the week off dude?”

 

“Oh! Almost forgot…no I’ve got to go to work.” You reply with a poker face.

 

Dash’s content features become mortified. You never thought her beautiful fur could lose color, but it did, “W-wha…?” She’s so taken aback with her ears perked and her nostrils flaring that she almost looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

 

You’re equally terrified by her response as you’re overcome with empathy for the mare you’re so emotionally entwined with. Crap you didn’t think she’d take it that badly, “Oh, Dash I’m just kidding! I got it approved, I’m sorry!” You blurt.

 

It takes some time for your words to sink in as her panic refuses to give in so easily, “Y-you mean you can go?” A hint of confused terror remains in her voice.

 

Go? She must’ve actually planned something…that would explain the reaction, “Of course I can.” You stroke her cheek and neck to calm her while you mentally berate yourself for distressing her.

 

Her features finally relax, “Heh, for a second I thought I was going to have to go to your work and threaten your boss.”

 

“Geez, that’s a bit harsh don’t you think?” You gaze into her eyes as her hind hooves find your sore foot under the sheets.

 

“Not really…because I already reserved our spots for tomorrow.” You feel her soft frog rub up against the location of your bathroom injury with the intention of abating the lingering soreness she saw on the walk out.

 

She really did plan something. You smile in unexpected anticipation and curl your foot back to meet hers better, “You got reservations for somewhere?”

 

She cracks a toothy grin, “Check it out dude…it’s so awesome! Are you ready?” She asks excitedly, she’s obviously been waiting to tell you this. Her giddiness rubs off on you and you nod for her to continue.

 

“Ok so…picture this, a hot springs resort…in the Foal Mountains!” She paints the picture for you by drawing a hoof across the sky, “Isn’t that sooo awesome!” Heh, her voice cracked.

 

The Foal Mountains…they are known for their popularity as a vacation spot…but the thing that excited you the most was the idea of going on a vacation together…it kind of makes you feel more officially together.

 

“Yeah, that sounds awesome!”

 

Your response only validates her enthusiasm, “I know right!”

 

You squeeze her close and kiss her cheek, “You’re the best Dash!”

 

She squints and smiles and continues rambling as you press your forceful kiss, “There’s like fireplaces for smores and, and pools and stuff!”

 

“How’d you get a room last minute?”

 

She pauses briefly before her hoof rubbing resumes at a pace that matches her train of thought, “A room?”

 

“Yeah. If it’s like a holiday resort type deal, I would expect them to be booked.”

 

“They did say there were a lot of ponies interested, but I just rented it and they stopped complaining.”

 

Seems like less of a hassle than…wait…”So they just let you rent a room? Is it because you’re a Wonderbolt or something?”

 

Understanding crosses her features, “No, no, nothing like that…uhh, they have like two or three resorts in the area, so they said they’d just move every pony else to the other ones after I rented it.”

 

“By rent it you don’t mean the whole place?” You ask for clarification.

 

“Yeah.”

 

…Holy shit…

 

You just stare at her innocent smile for a moment, “You rented the whole resort for us?”

 

“Yep! I just thought it’d be nicer that way so like…no pony would bother us…” She trails off and blushes.

 

You’re still trying to swallow the fact that your mare just bought out a high-end resort for a whole week. You knew the Wonderbolts paid well, but damn.

 

Her blush finally catches her attention and you realize it’s your turn to speak, “That’s so awesome Dash.” She beams at you. You contemplated telling her that she didn’t need to spend that kind of money on you, but you didn’t want to come off as unappreciative of her present.

 

Regardless, she seems to sense your thoughts, “I-I know it’s a lot, but…I was just thinking that, um…this way we can like…” You massage her ear to suppress her timidity. She takes a deep breath before finishing, “…this way we can rut without worrying about other ponies!”

 

Her wings bob a bit under the sheets. This vacation is sounding better and better, “That’s a good justification if I’ve ever heard one.” She uncontrollably grunts when you dig into her ear’s sweet spot and she massages your now recovered foot with more force in return.

 

“So we’re leaving in the morning then?”

 

The look on her face was one of pure happiness, like a kid going to bed on Christmas Eve, “Yeah but no rush. They mailed me the keys so we can show up whenever we want.”

 

You just grin and stare at each other for a moment as the outlook of your situation gradually catches up to you, “This is going to be so fun!” You explode and wrap her up in a bear hug.

 

Your genuine expression makes her chuckle, “Whaddaya say we get to sleep so we can get there faster?”

 

In a flash you turn off the lamp and pull her down into the blankets with you—quickly finding resting spots for your heads a few inches apart. She chuckles a bit more at your excitement, and you home in on her breath to plant a passionate goodnight kiss.

 

In the wake of your excitement, you remember a lingering question that’d been bugging you since you came home, “Hey, kind of a change of subject, but is there any reason why you emptied my hamper earlier?”

 

She doesn’t immediately respond, “Uhh…heheh, like I said…I kind of missed you.”

 

“Well, I missed you too…more than you know.” You can feel her smile against the pillow, “I guess it just worried me a bit because I’ve never seen you like that before.”

 

You lean in an nuzzle her nose before pecking her again and settling in for a good night’s sleep. You sense a question on the tip of her tongue, but she just curls her wing around your shoulders and scoots into you. Her hoof finally comes to rest against your foot. A whole week alone in a resort with Rainbow Dash…how could it get any better than that?

 

“Uhh…Anon?” She exhales a sweet breath that you take in.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Her ears scrape the pillow as she folds them, “You do know I’m in heat, right?”

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

“Dash!”

 

You yell down the street, ignoring all the strange looks you get from bystanders. Her tail soon comes into view as she backs around the corner—dragging a family-sized suitcase that’s bursting at the seams. One of the cheap wheels had already broken off and the other was not long for this world.

 

You yell out, “Do you want some help—”

 

“—No!” She cuts you off from half a block away.

 

“...Ok.” Ponies pass you with inquisitive looks while you patiently wait for your mare to catch up.

 

When she finally does, she drops the bag with a grunt and pauses to catch her breath. She shoots daggers at any nosy pedestrian to convince them to mind their own business, then, she turns to you, “Wait...we aren’t there yet?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well why’d you stop?”

 

“Because I was waiting for you.”

 

She responds indignantly, “Why were you waiting?”

 

You ponder your next statement carefully before deciding she’s got it coming, “Because you’re slow.”

 

A spark starts behind her eyes and in a few short seconds it’s a raging flame, “I’m what?” In the middle of the street, the fiery mare somehow makes you feel like you’ve got your back in a corner.

 

Uh-oh…Upon further consideration, you conclude you’d chosen poorly. Your next sentence reveals your sense of self-preservation is still very much alive, “I uh…*ahem...that was just a joke, but…” her eyes narrow even further, “...I think that, at least for now, we should maybe use some teamwork to get to the train on time.”

 

You keep your fingers crossed and wait for a response. The teamwork thing usually works, “Fine, but only because half of it’s for y—uhh, I mean, yours.” She corrects herself.

 

That’s definitely not true, you fit everything you needed into your backpack.

 

You nod anyways to find common ground and heave the case aloft—almost dislocating your shoulder in the process, “Geez it’s heavier than you! What’s in here, your weight sets?” You struggle grip on the slobber-slick handle. Why can’t ponies carry things with their hooves like they’re supposed to?

 

“Just shut up and help me carry it!” She huffs, and gets underneath it to support with her back. With the brunt of the weight take up it made for light, if awkward work.

 

Dash normally was pretty easy to smooth things out with...must be her heat getting to her. You felt pretty familiar with the typical tropes of a mare in estrus, but you also know your pegasus was anything but typical.

 

Finally, the station comes into view and there, sitting in steam waiting, is the train.

 

Dash immediately perks up, “Awesome! The train’s already here! Hurry up Anon let’s get a good seat!”

 

“Dash, its-*huff...it’s been here for a while.” But your words fall on deaf ears. Suddenly, you’re bearing the full weight of the suitcase as your excitable companion shirks her duty to get a head start on your adventure.

 

Under any other circumstances you might’ve been annoyed, but with how much effort she’s already put into this impromptu holiday, you know she’s anything but inconsiderate. By the time you trudge your way to the platfom, Dash is already standing before the carriage door; her beaming smile sparks an urge to hurry up.

 

The locomotive sounds it whistle, the shrill screech piercing the air and warning everyone in town that it was their last chance to board, “Hurry up Anon it’s about to leave!”

 

You don’t say. You finally hand off the bloated bag to the train attendant and try to ignore his bulging eyes as he shakily moves it to the cab compartment.

 

Weak legs carry you up the steps and both of you enter the carriage together. Dash pauses, as if surprised at the amount of ponies who’d arrived on time to claim the more desirable seats.

 

You move past her with a gentle head pat and she obediently shadows you to the front most bench. You usher her in first, knowing she loves the window seat. After dropping your backpack you sit down next to her as the train engine barks and smoothly pulls away. She jabs you with a wing and squee’s like a filly, “This is gonna be so awesome!”

 

You chuckle at her antics, “I can’t argue there.”

 

Her grin lingers on you for a while before turning back to the window. The houses and shops of Ponyville roll past at increasing pace till they give way to the trees on the outskirts of town. As you watch the scenery whip by, you feel Rainbow dig into your backpack.

 

She retrieves the pack of bubblegum you keep there and pops a piece in her mouth. Her ears perk as you watch her chew it up, “You good dude?”

 

“Yep.” You nod, “I just realized I forgot to bring my book.”

 

She blows a tiny test bubble and pops it. Her voice responds, dripping with satire, “Oh, how will you ever learn proper courting techniques if you don’t have your sappy romance novels.”

 

Oh here we go again...You thought you’d hid Scarlet Hewn Wings well enough in your nightstand, but a week ago you walked in to find Dash smirking as she casually flipped through its pages...and since then she hasn’t let a day go by without reminding you, “Hey, I’m a sappy guy you can’t blame me.”

 

She smirks and smacks her gum, “So you admit it then?”

 

“Admit what?”

 

“That you were reading another romance book.”

 

So that’s how she wants to play. “Dash, why would I want to read a book on it when I can just practice with you?” You nudge her shoulder.

 

She turns a bit red before discreetly looking around to make sure nopony heard you, “N-not so lou—”

 

*—smooch

 

A peck on her cheek steals her remaining courage and she shrinks into her seat. You lean over with a smug grin, “You are just the cutest thing I’ve ever—ooph!”

 

Her elbow jab stopped your jibe, but not your smirk. The train trundles along and for the first few minutes, your rainbow companion stays pretty quiet, occupying herself by blowing more bubbles and tracking random things passing by…but she can’t hold her grudge for long.

 

“Hey Anon?”

 

“Mhmm?” You respond without stirring from your dozing position.

 

“Let’s play a game.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

She barely noticed your lack of enthusiasm, “I spy!”

 

“I’d have to open my eyes for that.”

 

Her scratchy voice falls silent for a moment, “You can’t be serious.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Cuz that’s lame!”

 

“Oh no the last thing I want to be is lame.” You respond with more satire than you intended.

 

You feel her glare, “...I spy with my little eye a grumpy—”

 

“—Me.” You interject with the correct answer.

 

She crosses her forelegs and turns to face you in her seat, “I spy with my little eye a lazy little—”

 

“—It’s me.”

 

Her eyes narrow further, her voice comes back more curt, “I spy with—”

 

“—Lemme guess, me.”

 

“How do you know? I haven’t even started describing what I’m looking at!”

 

You peek over to sample her feistiness, “You’ve been staring at me the whole time, what else could you spy?”

 

She pauses a moment at your solid argument, “I-I can use my peripherals! You don’t know!”

 

“No, but I can guess.”

 

“Arrgh, fine! I’ll pick another game.”

 

“Oooh I’m excited.”

 

“Cut the sass.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” At this rate there was no chance you were getting a nap in, and playing a game with your mare wasn’t exactly a bad alternative, “What’re we playing?”

 

Proof of interest rekindled her dampened enthusiasm, “We’re gonna see who can blow the biggest bubble!”

 

Your resurgence in motivation was immediately dashed, “Aw Dash, you remember what happened the last time you tried that?”

 

“What’re you talking about dude?”

 

“You know, when you got it stuck to your muzzle?”

 

The distant memory comes back to her but she’s too dedicated to the idea to back down now, “Pfft! That was like...no big deal.” She averts her eyes as her recollections contradict her words.

 

“I was picking gum out of your fur for like two hours.”

 

She smirks when she thinks back to the painstaking procedure you’d both endured. It was one of the earlier memories from your time as friends, “So, I never make the same mistake twice!”

 

You sigh, “If you say so.”

 

“I do. Now watch!” She smacks her gum and forms it around her tongue before bracing it against her teeth. She blows but it ruptures with a quiet click, “Hold on, that was a bad one.”

 

She tries again and blows a pink bubble the size of a golf ball.

 

*pop!

 

Some heads turn and your competitor grins, “Alright Anon, let’s see what you got!”

 

Without hesitation she extends the chewed up gum on the tip of her extended tongue. You pick it off and pop it in your mouth—chewing it up to renew it’s elasticity, “So how are we measuring this exactly?”

 

“Uhh...just whoever blows the biggest bubble.”

 

You make a solid entry into the competition, your bubble is noticeably bigger than hers. The ease with which you form it makes her anxious, and after two more even bigger attempts she’s chomping at the bit to get another go. Before you can react, she pushes her muzzle into your lips and her nimble tongue steals the gum from your mouth. She pulls back with a slight blush and peeks over the bench to ensure nopony saw, “What? Your fingers taste funny.”

 

She chews silently before blowing another one, slightly bigger than yours. There was more than enough potential to keep going, but she errs on the side of caution. Her smiling muzzle consolidates the gum before the next kiss off. Due to the efforts of two determined mouths, it’d been thoroughly worked over and was now in the prime of its pop-ability: a fact you demonstrate with champion bubble and accompanying crack.

 

Her smile disappears, “M-My turn!”

 

Not willing to argue, you put it back in her mouth and she starts digging in your pack again, returning with two more sticks of bubblegum.

 

“Dash…” Your warn.

 

“Shutup I just need more, this one’s too chewed up already!”

 

You surrender to her overwhelming will. She wastes no time popping the extra material in her mouth and merging them with their veteran brother.

 

Her eyes narrow on yours while she obnoxiously chews. Then, she poises and blows. Her cheeks puff as she surpasses your previous record with ease. She pauses to breathe, and then keeps blowing. Just as you’re about to warn her again, she stops—having secured her spot on the leaderboard.

 

She smacks with a grin, “Haha! Beat that!” She leans in to give you the fat glob, but you both nearly lose it attempting a delicate trade off. Learning from your lesson, you push into a deep kiss and pass it between well sealed mouths. Both of you stay like that a moment longer than the hand off required; just enough to make you forget you’re supposed to be adversaries. You break with a squeak and two wide smiles.

 

You notice some of the other passengers looking on curiously, only to avert their eyes the moment either of your heads turned.

 

But with the competition in full swing you pay them no mind and surprisingly, Dash doesn’t either. Your next attempt is impressive, but at best it only matched Dash’s. You swap one more time so she can increase her victory margin. This time she emphasizes the kiss more than ever before pulling away with a confident smirk. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was trying to draw attention. Again, the display turns some more heads, but she doesn’t seem to care as she chews—her eyes locked solely on you.

 

“You already won you know.”

 

“Well duh, I won before we even started.”

 

Her smirk was more playful than confident. She never gives you a break does she? Either way she wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to display her bubble blowing superiority...and perhaps her oral dexterity in general.

 

“What can I say? I guess you’re better at blowing than I am.” You response slyly.

 

The cute pegasus tilts her head, perplexed, “What?”

 

You chuckle to yourself, “It’s a...it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

 

“So? Tell me!”

 

An older stallion peeks over at you with a disapproving look, “Uh…it’s probably not best to say it here...I’ll tell you later.” You whisper.

 

She huffs, “Fine! But I’m still gonna beat you!”

 

“Dash, I already said you did…”

 

A pink bubble sprouts from her muzzle tip and promptly grows. It sounds similar to a balloon as it inflates well past her previous record, growing thinner and more transparent with each labored exhale. Just when you think she’s going to stop, she puffs her cheeks and squints her eyes shut in concentration. Oh no.

 

She struggles to keep the gum grounded to her teeth as more and more of it gets taken up in the softball sized bubble in front of her face, “Dash, I think you should—”

 

—*pop! The bubble ruptures to cover her muzzle and her eyes go wide.

 

You sigh, “...stop.”

 

She paws at her muzzle and leans back into her seat so the ponies across the isle couldn’t see her embarrassment. You pull her into your shielded side before meeting her sheepish eyes.

 

Your look said enough; an ‘I told you so’ would’ve been redundant and unnecessarily damaging to her already wounded ego, “Hey, stop that you’ll just make a bigger mess.” You nudge her hooves out of the way and start pulling bits of pink gum from her blue fur.

 

The rest of the ride was mostly silent and your previously exuberant companion calmed down after getting cleaned off. The lesson in moderation was apparently taken to heart despite its lack of acknowledgement. Only after your layover at Canterlot station does she pick up conversation.

 

She sighs sweetly before muttering into your shoulder, “This is nice.” There weren’t many traveling to the mountains and you almost had the whole car to yourselves. The extra intimacy the relative privacy offered was a tantalizing glimpse of what the week held in store for you.

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Its nice to finally be getting away. I’ve been super busy with training and managing the weather schedule. The Cloudsdale dunces sent the cold front two days early so we had to make do with who we had on watch.”

 

“Now that you mention it, I thought that snow was scheduled for today.”

 

She sighs, “It was. Not gonna lie dude, I thought about flying over to Cloudsdale control and bucking some teeth out after practice last Friday.”

 

You stroke her shoulder, “Well I’m glad you didn’t, otherwise we’d be spending the week playing cards through a jail cell instead.”

 

“Heh, yeah.” The train rocks and she steadies her lean on you, “It's also been a lot of work organizing this.” She admits.

 

“Oh I can imagine. I still can't figure out how you managed to rent an entire resort this close to the holidays.”

 

“You’ve got Wonderbolts to thank for that,” she muses, “They have an agreement with the company that owns it. When we go on tour we stay at one of their places if there aren’t any barracks.”

 

“So this isn’t the only place they have?”

 

“No they’ve got like, a bunch of resorts all the way out to the Crystal Empire, but this one is the coolest in my opinion.” She catches herself with a sudden realization, “You can come with us on the next tour and check them out if you want!”

 

“They’d let me do that?”

 

She pauses to check herself, “Well, technically they have to allow spouses to go TDY with us…” She looks up at you with genuine curiosity, “...you’re my spouse, right?”

 

The obvious answer shoots to the tip of your tongue but your pause catches her interest. Technically, spouses were bound in legal marriage, but in Equestria, mates were considered to be lifetime partners with marriage being a privilege of the wealthy. You look into your lover’s big beautiful eyes; she doesn’t know what to do so she just smiles. Her projected love feeds your opinion.

 

“I’d say so, I mean, we are mates right?”

 

“Yeah!” She catches herself and blushes a bit.

 

You pull her tighter into your shoulder, “I sure feel like your spouse, so it’s probably close enough.”

 

An ear-to-ear grin splits her face, “Me too.” Satisfied, she tucks her muzzle back into you and lets your loving touch work its magic.

 

You look out the window, admiring the snowfall for a good minute before speaking, “Still though, an entire hotel? The Wonderbolts have that much sway?”

 

“Not exactly,” she grunts as you hit a good spot under her ear, “I had to bargain a bit with them since it was short notice.”

 

“I hope you didn't spend a fortune just for me Dash.”

 

“It wasn't that much. I managed to work it out so it's just gonna be you and me. No staff or anything; so that made it cheaper. It means we're gonna have to do everything ourselves but that also means no competition for the hot springs!”

 

“So I take it the Wonderbolts are totally cool with you doing this and taking a week off?” You ask her.

 

Her ears fold to her head and she looks bashfully up at you, “Heh well, you see...I kinda timed it so it would be in the middle of my heat. S-sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth at first, I just didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

 

“Oh?” you respond, with a hint of mock hurt. She’d managed to get her schedule, your schedule, and her body’s schedule all on the same page...impressive.

 

“So you’ve known this was coming then?”

 

“Yeah, sort of. I know it usually hits me this month, so once I started realizing that’s when I started setting everything up.”

 

“That’s pretty cool that the team gives you time off to deal with it though.”

 

She pauses before responding, “Yeah I guess, but they kinda have to.”

 

“You mean they’re required to give you time off for heat?”

 

“Yep. Because it’s the only time most mares can get pregnant so you get time off for it, as long as we’re not like, going to battle or something.”

 

“Huh, I’ve never heard of that before.”

 

“Yeah, well it means that if you don’t get me pregnant then I have to pay back the time.”

 

Your eyes dart to her relaxed features, “Really? I mean, is th-that something that you want? Do you know a way to make it work or, or do we just…”

 

Her smirk tips you off, “Hahahaha! You should’ve seen your face!”

 

“Dash!”

 

“Hahahaha! I’m kidding, of course I don’t have to pay it back!” She finally stops snickering to holds your gaze, the next moment you were embraced in a sweet kiss.

 

As you caress, you notice two mares towards the back are watching you and gossiping quietly.

 

You’d bet that their eyes were more toward your companion than yourself. Dash wasn't quite a household name but she’s not far off.

 

A tingle runs through you and a smugness invades your brain. She was so down to earth you tended to forget that the mare who was contently sitting in your lap licking your teeth was also a model Wonderbolt, national hero, and country wide sex icon.

 

You loved her for different reasons, but it was pretty darn cool to see just how revered she was.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Frozen white powder crunches underfoot as you conquer the steep trail to the resort step by step.

 

The landscape before you was not something you’d seen back on earth. Trees adorning the path had only begun loosing their orange and yellow leaves, but thanks to the local weather team there was six inches of snow on the ground.

 

Individual flakes are so big, that they don’t instantly melt to your palm as you examine them.

 

Four crunching hooves stop next to the bag in front of you and a second visible exhale joins yours, “That’s called snow. Pretty cool huh?”

 

You peek up at the smart-aleck pegasus, then suddenly, you toss a scoop full of snow at her face and take off up the trail.

 

She snorts violently and shakes it off before tearing after you just as fast as her four legs and two wings would allow.

 

Your twenty yard head start disappeared in just about a second, and you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the blue blur rocketing towards you. Her momentum takes you clear off your feet

 

*Oooph!

 

You both hit the ground with a thud. Dash reaches out to grab a hoof full of snow, but you smack it out of her grasp while recovering. For the next minute you wrestle about in the cold, Dash trying her best to pay you back and you trying your best to defend yourself. But inevitably, she gains the upper hand and you’re forced to watch in horror as she gathers a snowball to brutally plow into your face with an audible—

 

*—thwack!

 

You roll away, dazed by the blow, “Ow! I didn’t hit you that hard!” You feign injury and gingerly clear the packed snow out of your eye sockets. Your whole face feels like pins and needles.

 

“You’re bigger so I had to use more snow!”

 

“Yeah but you used more snow and threw it harder.”

 

“…Yeah. That makes sense.”

 

You finish wiping your eyes, “To you maybe.” Dash stands a few feet away with another snowball in her hoof, but she drops it and stomps it into the ground when you look at her, “You were going to hit me again?”

 

Her shifty eyes accentuate her guilty expression, “N-no…”

 

“Were you at least going to wait for me to recover first? Or were you just going to hit me again when I was blind and helpless?”

 

“No, but quit being such a baby Anon, you’re like twice as big as me.”

 

“Well…you should’ve finished me when you had the chance!”

 

Her early warning sensors only succeed in perking her ears cautiously, and she squeals in surprise when you tackle her to the ground, “Hahahaha-quit it-hahaha!” You wrestle her into the snow with no real objective, but quickly take a wingful of snow to the side of the face.

 

Dash scurries away while you recover and stops farther up the trail to look back at you, “See, that’s what happens when you try to trick the fastest flyer in all of—ooof!”

 

A snowball silences her boast, “That’s it, you’re toast buddy!” She starts frantically forming a snowball of her own.

 

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” You chuck your second one at her but she dodges and returns her own—hitting you square in the stomach. Dang those have some force behind them.

 

The battle moves down the trail allowing you to take cover behind the trees. Your hands have the advantage when it comes to making ammo quickly, but Dash was a smaller target and had wings...and your hands are starting to freeze.

 

You peek out from behind your tree and spot part of her prismatic tail, just before it darts out of sight.

 

You peek from the other side and a snowball just misses your face. She watches the return throw with wide eyes, but doesn’t even try to move until it’s in midair. The packed snow explodes off her rump into a white cloud. She’s caught in the open so she attempts to run, but the snow bogs her down and you tackle her before she can take off. Normally she can dodge those with ease...the cold must be getting to her.

 

As if to prove your point, the mare barely resists, seemingly grateful for the contact. You hold her withers and look her in the eye. Her far off expression told you she was somewhere else; your game had run its course, “Getting cold Dash?”

 

Her drifting eyes meet yours, “A b-bit.” She gulps and scratches her hind legs together.

 

“Then let’s get you inside.”

 

You help her up and brush the snow off. The suitcase you left in the road gets retrieved and you finish your trudge up the trail. Normally, the resort would send a carriage down to the station to pick up guests, but since Dash’s deal granted the staff the week off, you had to make do with your legs.

 

Finally, you crest the hilltop and the cabin comes into view.

 

The blackened wood of the three story tall building contrasts distinctly against the mottled white backdrop of evergreens and snow. Its snow covered roof matches the snow capped mountain framed behind it and it's almost oriental style architecture lent it an element of mystery.

 

The scene is so striking that the normally careless rainbow pegasus stops to take it all in with you.

 

You quickly realize that the path you’d taken to get here was in a shallow pass of sorts--a pass that deepened drastically into the basin you were now standing in.

 

“Wow Dash, this is…”

 

“...Cool!” She finishes for you.

 

The excited mare takes off and you follow close behind. After crossing a covered walkway over a running stream you find large steaming pool with some smaller ones spaced around it. They weren’t too deep, but they looked to be carved straight out of the polished rock. You reach down and dip your hand in experimentally, “Whoah, this is really warm!”

 

“Duh, that’s why they call it a hot spring.”

 

Oh. Right.

 

Dash steps up to the first set of doors and tries to open them to no avail, “Oh, almost forgot. They said they’d hide the key under the ice plant.”

 

You look around and immediately spot more than a dozen ice plants in pots, “Good security feature.”

 

The fifth pot you check has the key and you unlock the building. The lattice-framed doors slide open to reveal a warm, cavernous lobby. Dash walks in with a chuckle and you follow, closing the doors behind you to keep the heat in. The front counter has a conspicuously placed note.

 

Hello: Welcome to The Star Springs Mountain Getaway. Proudly owned by Luxury Accommodations, we hope you have a pleasant stay. Here are listed some rules of conduct, please abide by them at all—

 

“—Anon!” You hear her voice call from somewhere far away.

 

“Hold on Dash I’m reading the instructions!” You yell back.

 

With a rush of wind, your partner appears around the corner and drops to her hooves, “Pfft! Who needs instructions for how to vacation?”

 

You can save this for later. You fold them up and put them in your pocket for safe keeping, “Alright what’ve you got to show me?”

 

“Just follow me!”

 

You admire the minimalist architecture as Dash guides you down the hall.

 

“Look, it’s a weight room!” She exclaims upon reaching her destination.

 

It was small by any human standards, but they were so uncommon in Equestria that you can understand why she’d be so excited to see one. Apart from the fact that she’s a total gym nut.

 

You look down at the giddy little pegasus, “Shall we check out the rest of the place or do you just want to spend the whole time here?”

 

Much to your surprise, the mare actually pauses to think, “...Yeah, let's go look around!”

 

For the next hour you do just that. Not a single door in the resort goes unopened. The building had a lot of smaller rooms in it that varied in size depending on what you paid for; luckily, you had your choice of residence as no one else was going to intrude. You were just beginning to realize what that meant. You have this entire luxury resort all to yourselves...just you and your mare.

 

“Whoa Anon! We’re using this one!”

 

You break your trance and follow Dash’s voice into what must be the luxury suite. The room was, at first glance, is twice as big as your apartment, complete with a master bath, walk in closet and living room with a fireplace and king sized bed. That must be a minotaur king size.

 

Dash leaps onto the bed and rolls on her back with a chuckle; you hop on and collapse next to her, “Geez Dash this thing is huge!”

 

“Heheheh yeah it is!”

 

Your grins grow in the ensuing silence. You know exactly what’s going through her mind...because the same thing is going through yours, “How many of these rooms do you think they have?”

 

“I don’t know but I say we claim this one, I’m tired of walking.”

 

“Me too.” You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and taking in your luxurious surroundings.

 

Dash pipes up, “Pool?”

 

“Pool.”

 

You spend the next minute digging through your backpack and suitcase looking for your trunks, but very intense peer pressure quickly convinces you to abandon them. Luckily, the rear pool was just outside the back door.

 

Dash breaks out first and cannonballs into the water, “Woohoo! Anon hurry up the water’s super nice!”

 

Despite her beckoning, you stand there peeking out from behind the door butt naked. It wasn’t your lack of decency that held you back, your mare still found it more normal than wearing clothes. It was the fact that you had to brave the frigid the twenty foot gauntlet to the pool’s edge.

 

Dash ducks under the water to warm her face, but when she doesn’t hear your splash, she surfaces to glare at you, “Don’t make me come over there and get you.”

 

She sounded just as mirthful as ever, but you knew it wasn’t a bluff, “Just give me a minute.”

 

She huffs and sits there, staring at you. She’s making this awkward on purpose. The tactic does the trick and forces you out from behind cover...just in time for a gust of cold air to buffet you.

 

You cover yourself as best you can and shrink back inside, “Nah, I’ll look for something to wear first—”

 

“—Anon get your butt over here or so help me I will drag you out kicking and screaming!”

 

Geez, “...Ok, fine.”

 

You take a deep breath and make a mad dash to the water. Instead of cannonballing, you hop the edge. The relief is immediate. The water seems hot at first, almost unbearably so, but after a few seconds you normalize and relax into it. Your mare greets you with waiting hooves and a winning smile.

 

Her forelegs pull her into you as you sink down to nose-level to meet her, “See, toldya it’s warm.”

 

You smile back at her, “I never doubted you, Rainbow.”

 

Breaths mingle amidst the rising steam as your lips touch. Nimble puckers smack against each other, savoring the teasing sensations and distinct nose contact you could only get with this type of kiss. After a minute you break to look into her gorgeous magenta eyes.

 

With a rush of water you pull each other close again and crash your mouths to fix your wetted appetite. Her hind legs lift off the pool floor and wrap around your waist as you passionately kiss. The mare’s narrow tongue loses all restraint and liberally paints the inside of your mouth with naturally milky essence. Her breaths rush past your ear—distinctly hotter than the humidity rising from the water inches away.

 

She breaks away with a smack and a huff, trailing a thick string of spit from the tip of her loose tongue; you don’t have time to catch her eye before she kisses on the other side of your mouth. The reverse angle offered a new take on all her favorite exhibits, which she immediately goes to work on.

 

One hand holds her petite frame tightly to your chest and the other travels of the back of her water-soaked mane and kneads the back of her neck. She never admitted it because she never slowed down enough to notice, but all the work she put in definitely created some tension. Your careful fingers start to relieve discomforts she didn’t know she had, and it fuels her slobbery love-assault all the more.

 

Her fore hooves pull harder on your neck in an attempt to get more of her tongue in you, and she takes to lapping at your shorter muscle. The mutual tasting continues as your breaths get more haggard. Finally, she breaks—and transitions to slowly licking your lips and cheek.

 

“Heheh, looks like someone’s happy to see me.”

 

Instead of a reply she moves back to lick your smile a few dozen times. The things this mare does when no one’s watching…

 

After finally getting her fill, she gulps and stops. Eyes drift to each other as you slowly circle the hot pool, “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while you know.”

 

You quirk a brow at her, “Oh have you?”

 

She smirks shyly, “I just...I enjoy it ok?”

 

“Hey, I’m not judging. I enjoy it too so uh...feel free to do it whenever you want.”

 

Now she shoots you a cocky grin, “Are you sure you really mean that?”

 

What angle is she working now…”Yep. I’m sure.”

 

“So if I show up to your work and walk into the middle of a meeting?”

 

“I would ask everyone to ‘hold that thought’ and proceed to make out with you for as long as you’d like, yes.”

 

She chuckles, blowing steamy breath across your face, “How about if you’re doing that thing where you’re like, trying to explain something to somepony because you don’t think they get it but they actually do and you just keep getting interrupted?”

 

That’s oddly specific. “Uhh...I don’t really see how that applies—”

 

—*smooch

 

“...but if you really think—”

 

—*smooch

 

“...that it’s a realistic scenario—”

 

—*smooch

 

“...then I guess I would—”

 

—*smooch

 

“...have to say yes.”

 

She snorts and smiles, and you pull in for one final kiss. This is perfect. You break and she hugs you to lay her chin on your shoulder. You hear her sigh contently.

 

For the next minute you lazily twirl about in the water; sunk as low as you can while still giving your noses clearance to breathe. She’s a lot lighter underwater.

 

“Uh, hey Anon.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You left the door open.”

 

You slowly rotate to confirm her observation, “Yeah...guess I was in a hurry to get in.”

 

“We should probably close it, otherwise you’ll be all cold when we go back inside and I’ll have to hear you complain about it all night.”

 

She does have a point...but you really don’t want to get out right now, “We can just find another room…”

 

“Anon, this one already has our stuff in it and it’s in a super convenient spot.”

 

She’s not wrong, “So...are we drawing straws or what?”

 

“Huh? Oh no, you left it open, you get to close it.” She says with a tone of finality.

 

As if on cue, an errant gust blows through the resort grounds and makes you sink lower for safety. Just get it over with. Without a word you leave her in the water and make a mad dash for the door. You slam it shut and jump back in before you have time to register the shock of it all. That wasn’t so bad.

 

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Dash teases, paddling up to you and clinging on to warm you up even more.

 

“Easy for you to say, I don’t have any of that nice fur.” She smiles when she feels you pinch a tuft of her longer chest fur.

 

“But if I’d done it for you I wouldn’t have gotten to look at you again.”

 

Well that’s one way to set the mood, “Really? Because the last I checked, I’m naked right now and water is transparent.”

 

A hind leg slips between yours and graces your inner thigh, “I know…” she leans in to nip at your ear and whispers, “...but I can’t see the details.”

 

Her leg drifts higher to gently contact you. Her forehooves hold your face as she continues nibbling on your earlobe. It gets harder to think straight amidst the rush of hot contact, but you know where she’s headed with all of this.

 

She’s never been this direct before. You had a game plan when you woke up this morning. You knew what you were going to do and you had an idea of where and when, but the cyan pegasus had a knack for wiping your memory.

 

Suddenly, your back bumps into the rock wall and you find your motion halted altogether. Dash pulls back—dragging her damp muzzle along your jaw the whole way. Her hazy, half-lidded eyes come into focus amidst a shallow backdrop of steaming water. Your kiss flows naturally in your trance. Her furry lips focus on your bottom one as her forelegs brace around your chest.

 

She breaks with a moist pop. At some point she’d developed a light blush and it’s only emphasized when her ears fold even farther, “Just...stay still for a moment, ok?”

 

You nod slowly as she sinks lower and lower in the water. You follow her eyes until they close and her whole head submerges.

 

Even with her mostly out of sight, her hold on you remains. You lay back against the warm rock as you feel her walk down your torso with her forelegs; finally, they come to rest around your butt.

 

Amid the swirling of hot water, something slick and slightly warmer brushes past your member. It was already at full mast from your first kiss, a fact your submerged lover uses to her advantage.

 

Two lips meet your tip and begin their agonizingly slow descent as she takes you into her mouth.

 

“Gah!”

 

Your cry of pleasure goes out unheard into the lonely mountainside, but your partner definitely feels it. Deeper and deeper she moves, sucking you in as you travel past her comfortably parted teeth and onto the cushy bed of her slick tongue. She grips you tightly to keep her seal waterproof.

 

Ever since she’d come to the sudden realization of blowjob mechanics on a hot afternoon while eating a popsicle, she’d been all too enthusiastic about sharing her discovery with you. Apparently she was unaware that it was a common thing, and frequently boasted about how good she is at coming up with romantic ideas. You didn’t have the heart to injure her pride by telling her it wasn’t that uncommon. As far as she was concerned, the two of you were the only ones in the world who got to enjoy it, and you were fine letting her believe it. Besides, she did figure it out without anyone telling her so she isn’t wrong about being creative.

 

She bottoms out and you feel her lips suckle around the base of your shaft, forcing your toes to curl against the pool floor.

 

“Gah! Rainbow!”

 

Her longer muzzle lets her take you in with surprising ease, and she never experienced the slightest discomfort, a point you’d been adamant to emphasize.

 

Her slick tongue goes to work lapping and swirling and bathing your nerves in way that somehow expressed more love than lust. She didn’t have any particular routine, instead she just did whatever she felt like and enjoyed your inevitable responses. She behaved as if she were kissing you—pouring every ounce of her being into her leisurely but deliberate movements. Previous experiences seemed to support that idea; if you didn’t move things along, she’d often get lost in her own world and stay fixated on her target...

 

...Now that you think of it...your hand moves to the side of her face and detects her jaw flexing in conjunction with the incredible pulses of suction you were feeling. Gently, you nudge her to signal her to surface. She pauses as if to wonder why, before pulling off...and stopping halfway to forcefully lick your glans.

 

“Mh!”

 

Your legs almost give out, but a second nudge saves you. Dash’s furry blue form breaks the surface with a splash, a pool of rainbow floats around her squinting and snorting face. You help wipe some water from her eyes before finding them.

 

“What is it?” She asks, her cheeks a cherry red.

 

“I was just uh...reminding you to breathe.”

 

A look of confusion crosses her face, “What the hay do I lo—*cough! *cough!—ook like, some unathletic earth pony? *cough!”

 

“No...but air is still good for you.”

 

“I was underwater for like, ten seconds!”

 

She almost seems offended by your lack of confidence in her breath-holding ability, “Dash, you were down there for about a minute.”

 

Your respective experiences may have been shortened and lengthened by enjoyment and pleasure, but that didn’t change the fact that your partner’s comfort came first...even if she gives you a hard time about it.

 

“Dude, I’m not gonna pass out on you or anything.”

 

You suddenly feel stupid for your reminder, “Ok, but if you do there’s no lifeguards here.”

 

“Pfft! Then I guess you’ll have to fill in.”

 

Before you can respond she takes a deep breath and ducks underwater. You have to remind yourself to breath as you feel her forelegs hold her securely to your midsection. She carefully takes your length again, going just slow enough to ensure a solid seal.

 

You weren’t exactly sure where she got the idea of doing this, you’re not about to discourage her.

 

You’d learned that ponies really don’t take well to having their gifts and efforts discouraged for the sake of their own convenience…especially when they’re doing it out of the kindness of their own hearts. Dash was no exception.

 

Your relationship with Dash was based almost entirely off of emotions, any physical affections rose from that as a symptom rather than the driving force. Albeit, a very severe symptom. You never kept track of who owed who because you never owed each other anything. Satisfaction arose entirely from the joy and pleasure you brought to one another. It was impossible to simply give into the relationship without receiving anything in return, both in principle and because Dash incessantly tried to find ways to give back.

 

In a way it was a positive feedback loop. Happiness arose from seeing your partner happy, and happiness arose in your partner from seeing you happy…which in turn made you even happier. It was a wonder your heart could keep up with it all.

 

You’d even coined your own term for it: competitive affection.

 

The idea really fit well with her personality and in a general sense, it was completely true. You always tried to one-up each other with expressions of love, for no other reason than that you enjoyed it.

 

If that wasn’t evident enough as is, Dash’s submerged antics definitely drove the point home. She hooks a foreleg around your knee and twists her head to get just a little bit further down on you.

 

“Ah Rainbow!”

 

She grips you a bit tighter when she makes out the muffled sound of her name. You felt a twinge of guilt not being able to look her in the eye, but focus instead on what you can do to connect with her.

 

Your mare laps viciously at you amidst her haze-inducing suction. At this point your knees had long since given out and you were only upright because you held onto the pool edge. Your most sensitive tip was sandwiched between the palpable bumps on the back of her tongue and the ribbed texture on the roof of her mouth. She simply holds you there and suckles, moving only to twist her muzzle and get a different angle.

 

While the sensations alone were incredible, the far more appealing aspect was how enthusiastic she apparently was. The moment you let that thought grab hold, you sense imminent danger of loosing control.

 

With panicked fervor, you find the mare and cup her cheek to pull her away. But the moment you do so she squeezes you even tighter and kneads your tip with her dextrous tongue.

 

“Dash I’m!…”

 

The warning was unnecessary. Whether it was her aptitude for her interests, feminine intuition, or some sixth sense you didn’t have, she knew you better than you knew yourself. And her decision to not let up was made long before you even considered it.

 

You take a shaky breath and struggle to hold your position on the wall as your partner does her best to sap your remaining strength. You reach out and gently grab her ear; your eyes unfocus. Her prismatic mane turns into a collide scope of color as you can’t hold back any longer.

 

Dash pauses to curl her tongue along your underside—coaxing the first spurt out of your swollen tip. Her throat constricts to swallow and your one handed grip on the wall tightens as you grit your teeth to fire off all that you have into the unflinching maw attached to your crotch. She holds on tightly through it all and you can swear you feel her lips curl in a smile.

 

Finally, you have nothing left to give; after another tender moment of attachment, she lets you go and surfaces.

 

Red, yellow, and orange mane cover her face as she takes a big gulp of air. You immediately pull her towards you for support. You brush her mane out of her eyes as she catches her breath. Are you supposed to say something now?

 

“That was uh…really good.”

 

Amidst her struggle for air she finds it in herself to chuckle. One eye and a blushing cheek peek up at you, “R-really?”

 

“Yeah! I just um, I guess I just thought you wanted to wait until…you know…” You scratch your neck nervously. Way to sound unappreciative, dummy!

 

But Dash only smirks, “Heh, I kinda *huff got a bit carried away…” Her eyes drop before she quietly stammers out the rest, “…it was w-w-worth it though.”

 

You’re not exactly sure what to say to that so you just pull her into your chest. Judging by her bashfulness the last thing she’d want is to bring more attention to—

 

“—It was worth it for the taste I mean.” She nuzzles past your jaw with a blushing smirk.

 

“Dash…” You muster your condescending tone.

 

But she’s intent on egging you on, “Heheh, i-it’s kinda like—“

 

“—I’ll take your word for it.”

 

“But don’t ya wanna know?“

 

“Not particularly.” What has gotten into this mare?

 

A mischievous smirk grows on her damp muzzle as she leans in to whisper, “It’s not exactly like vanilla ice cream.”

 

“Aww gross!”

 

“Hahahaha!”

 

She’s never going to let that joke die, “Alright miss Dash, I think it’s about time we drain some of that feistiness.”

 

“Heh, not gonna happen!”

 

“No?” Your fingers graze a more sensitive area and she dips in the water as her hind legs immediately forfeit. You catch her by the root of her outstretched wing, ignoring the look of surprise on her face.

 

She clings to your chest, her machismo instantly forgotten in favor of intimate touch. You take a fore hoof off your chest and guide it to the edge while she looks at you questioningly, “Here Dash, hold onto the side for a minute—“

 

“—Anon, you don’t have to try and copy me.”

 

“You don’t want me to?”

 

She averts her eyes, “I just kinda wanna…stay here.” She brings her detached hoof back to cling to your chest.

 

The act makes your heart melt and you needn’t say anything else. One hand holds your precious mare’s head to your chest while the other drifts past her receptive dock. The scent of rain drifts up from her hair as fingers drift past her plothole, down her perineum, and around the focus of your attention. She stays motionless and calm against you but sudden vigorous winking tells you a different story. You slide your fingers down her rump, squeezing her labia together and resisting the motion of her winking.

 

“Ghh!”

 

Her hips start moving on their own to replicate the motion you just made. One hind leg sticks out to the side and bumps into the pool wall—its only purpose being to stay out of the way. Ripples travel outwards, carrying with them a small portion of the mare’s pent up libido. Her movements pick up speed and start to get more erratic.

 

You stroke down her back, “Shh…just relax, this is my job.”

 

She lets out a deep breath and you reward her self-control by slipping a finger into her canyon. She whimpers and strains to spread her legs. You slide down her lips like before, pinching them between your middle finger and supporting ones. You stop when you bottom out in her clitoral cleft. Ever so gently, you gyrate around until you trigger a coiled nerve.

 

“Nngh!”

 

There it is. Her slick button squeezes past you forcing her legs to kick a bit. Her body springs into motion again, powered by the flame of an increasingly uncontrollable drive. This time you let her ride it out and relegate to doing the best you can.

 

Narrow hips angle to massage her sensitive bean on your finger and she rocks back and forth with increasing fervor.

 

You pull her higher up on your chest. The new position gave you better access to match her urgency.

 

Water splashes between your bodies and the combination of heats force beads of sweat to form on your face.

 

Your finger wiggling takes the necessity out of her movements and she slows before holding still. A kiss on her forehead reveals the strain of pleasure etched on her face; she grunts and whimpers as you very actively try to get her off.

 

The war wages on in her nethers as her active clitoris clashes with the dexterity of its suitor, and Dash doesn’t dare move, knowing full well that the best way to scratch her itch is to let you do it for her.

 

The sprint of stimulation quickly wore down her stamina and before long she’s teetering on the edge of climax. Just as she’s about to tip, you let up.

 

“Agh, Anon!” She cries in desperation.

 

When you don’t immediately respond she looks at you for answers. You snag the opportunity to steal a kiss which she pushes into.

 

Your fingers go back to gingerly stroke her labia—just enough to keep her wound up.

 

The mare’s only response is to kiss harder to compensate for lack of stimulation.

 

Again, you stop for a moment and Dash pulls away in exasperation, “Anon…” Again, you tease her sheltered flesh, “…An-on…” Her gorgeous magenta eyes struggle to stay open amidst the haze of unrealized orgasm. She arches her back, clinging to your chest while attempting to rub herself on your leg. But you stay just on the edge of her reach, purposefully building her up for a more intense finale.

 

When she doesn’t get the stimulation she seeks her eyes return to yours, her breathing shallow and shaky, “A-non…please…”

 

That last yearning whimper broke what remained of your resolve and you do everything in your power to give her what she wants. With her back still arched, you pull back on her clitoral hood to stretch the loaded nerves therein.

 

Her shivering pauses for the briefest moment, then, you bring your lips to hers in a passionate kiss—sending the beautiful pegasus screaming down the precipice of climax.

 

She stays there, back arched, muzzle attached to yours, frozen in ecstasy. Her nub throbs in celebration and you do your best to prolong it by gently circling the sensitive spot. Few things matched the feeling of fulfillment you got from bring your favorite pegasus to this point.

 

She stays paralyzed and silent for longer than usual and just as you begin to wonder, she relaxes and lets out a puff of air through her nose…before seizing again. Her anatomy still seeks your touch so you grant it. After another hard contraction you mare relaxes onto your chest, rewarding you with a sigh of mixed content and relief.

 

Your palm now covers her, gyrating slowly to ease her off of her endorphin high. Her legs hang limp in the water and her wings start their painstakingly slow withdrawal.

 

Some deeply engrained motivator pulls her out of her afterglow long enough to plant a thank you kiss on your lips. Then, she lays back on your chest.

 

For the better part of the next hour, you hold her close and keep her muzzle above the water while making lazy circles around the pool. Clouds descend from the mountains to fill your view with white, and a snowflake finds its way into your eye. As the weather hints at what is to come, your trusting mare rests peacefully on your chest, calmed by the heat of the water and the beat of your heart.

 

The sky is a few shades darker by the time you decide to get out. It’d also gotten a lot colder.

 

“You ready to head inside?” You pat her belly affectionately.

 

She opens her eyes for the first time in a while, “No let’s sleep out here.”

 

”Sure, I’ll be inside if you get cold.”

 

You leave her in the water and move to the edge, “Anon! You’re supposed to say something romantic!”

 

“Oh? Since when did you become an expert in romance?” You hop out and cringe making your way to the door.

 

The sopping pegasus follows, “Since, like, I saw those sappy books you were reading!”

 

You reach for the knob, “So you didn’t read them you just looked at them?”

 

*click

 

It doesn’t turn and you both stop dead while that sinks in.

 

“You locked us out!”

 

“You’re the one that wanted me to close the door!”

 

Wind gusts past your wet and rapidly cooling bodies, “I didn’t know it was locked!”

 

Much to your chagrin, the tough pegasus shivers. If she’s cold then this is bad. Her voice cuts through your thoughts, “Ok, you try the front door, I’ll check the other side!”

 

You nod and split off. Clenching feet leave wet prints on the frigid cobblestone path. There was a fine line between moving too fast and loosing heat to wind, and spending too long with any one foot grounded. You were relegated to picking the least uncomfortable option, speed walking. You remember the key on your nightstand, but there was a chance the front door didn’t automatically lock.

 

Hurried legs carry you up the stairs onto slightly warmer wood, but the mild relief is dashed when you can’t get in. You might actually die out here.

 

In a panic, you start checking the the dozens of potted plants for a spare key, but none turn up. Just as you’re about to give up hope a thought crosses your mind. How much would a window cost? Whatever the answer is, is far cheaper than the risk of hypothermia. Even if you did wait it out in the warm pool, you’d have to get out eventually, and the weather was only scheduled to get worse.

 

You hoist the tiny plant over your shoulder and take aim at one of the smaller windows next to the door.

 

*crash!

 

The pot and glass shatter splendidly. You weren’t looking forward to explaining it, but that was kinda fun.

 

The door clicks from the inside and your heart immediately sinks. It opens to reveal a dripping wet and unamused pegasus.

 

“Hey.”

 

She just stares with disappointment.

 

“I just thought that…uhh…it was the only way.”

 

“Get inside Anon.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

As she closes it behind you, the ballistic aftermath of your potted projectile becomes apparent. As does the thousands of sparkling glass shards that sprawl all over the lobby, “I’ll clean that up…and pay for it.”

 

“Just hold on for a minute.”

 

You move to start compiling some of the bigger pieces, “Wait! Don’t move yet I don’t want you to step on any glass!”

 

You abandon your efforts and wait for her to fly back with two brooms, a dustpan, and a towel to dry off “I found these in the service room.” She hands them off to you mid air before perching safely on the countertop.

 

The next hour is spent sweeping up debris and apologizing. It goes by a lot faster once you clear enough space for Dash to join in. Her hooves may have been hardened but her frogs were just as vulnerable as your bare feet. After putting the plant and some dirt in a cup, you tape a pillow across the hole and call it good.

 

Dash swats you with her tail, “Geez dude, we haven’t even been here a full day and you’re already trying to get us banned.”

 

“I’m sorry Dash it was really stupid of me. Just tell them it was all my fault and then—“

 

“—Whoah! Take it easy Anon I’m kidding!” You look over and see that she’s wearing her teasing smirk; it still doesn’t make you feel much better. If you’d just gone looking for her first you would’ve known she’d gotten in through the second floor window.

 

“Hey.” You come to an abrupt stop as she blocks the hallway in front of you. She stands on her hind legs and holds your shoulders, her eyes bore into yours, full of concern. “You know I’m not mad at you right?”

 

She’s got every reason to be, “I just don’t want to make you look bad since you’re representing the Wonderbolts and all.”

 

“Seriously…dude whenever the team rents one of these places out they break stuff all the time!”

 

They probably don’t do it deliberately though, “Thanks Dash.” You trundle on holding the towel around your waist. Dash follows you silently into the room and you drag the suitcase to the closet to unpack.

 

A loud crash draws you back out to the main room and you see Dash standing over a broken decorative vase, “Oops, I must’ve bumped into it by accident.” She looks at you without an ounce of guilt. What the heck?

 

When you bend down to help her clean it up you feel her tongue graze through your hair. Looking up you see that she’s watching you closely. Did she do this on purpose to make you feel better? Staged or not, it actually did make you feel better…and she deserves to know that.

 

You pull her muzzle into you for a peck and you both smile. After finishing Dash taps your leg, “Throw that away I’ve got something you need to help me with!”

 

After finding the trash can you make it back to the bedroom to find her bouncing on the king sized mattress, “Uhh…should you be doing that?”

 

“Watch this!” She starts throwing in a wing flip with each bounce. The display was pretty impressive, but in light of multiple recent ‘accidents’ you fear the worst.

 

“Ok, yeah that’s really cool.”

 

“Then you’ll love this!” She throws in a twist with each bounce, getting dangerously closer to the edge each time.

 

You rush in to hold her down, “Whoohohoho yeah that’s…that’s neat.”

 

She comes to a halt and smirks, “You’re jealous aren’t you?”

 

“Of what?”

 

“My awesome tricks!”

 

“No…” You make your way around the bed and change out your towel for some real shorts.

 

“Yeah you are.”

 

Yeah you are, “Hey, didn’t you say you needed help with something?”

 

She perks up but dodges eye contact, “Uhh…yeah…”

 

“Well, what is it?”

 

She waits for a moment as she builds courage, “C-close your eyes f-for a minute.” You comply and hear her shuffle around, change her mind, then shuffle around some more. A scratchy, trepid voice says, “Y-you can look now.”

 

Before you lay your pegasus partner. Her rear end facing you and her head curled to gauge your reaction; one hind leg is held up by her foreleg and her dock is pulled back—baring her femininity region right at you.

 

Her cheeks flash red and she avoids your gaze. She’d never displayed herself like this before, anything you’d seen of her just happened in the heat of the moment. But now…she wants you to look at her.

 

Her exquisitely toned form flows with her half-extended wing and rests amidst a pool of her own color. The unusually flexible position, held with ease, accentuates her hind leg and converges lines on her naked skin glistening with arousal—the only furless spot on her otherwise pristine cyan body. A timid expression enters the picture and she musters just enough courage to meet your eyes…She is gorgeous.

 

She’s unsure of what to say so she waits timidly for you to make a move. Even after all you’ve been through together, she’s still a bit shy with blatant expressions.

 

The sound of your unneeded clothes dropping echoes through the silence…followed by a audible, leaky wink.

 

She winces and breaks eye contact again. The only desire you have is to make her realize that she’s got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re going to make her proud of that beautiful marehood of hers if it kills you.

 

You’re on her before she can loose any more confidence. Passing under her leg, you walk your way up her body and plant a lingering kiss on the side of her hiding muzzle, “You’re the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen Rainbow Dash.” You whisper before gently kissing her ear.

 

Her response is heavy breathing. By the time you make it back to her rear, she’d sprung a new leak. Even after this afternoon she’s still a bit pent up.

 

You resist the allure of her musk and focus instead on her inner thigh. While holding onto her outstretched leg, you plant an open mouth kiss inches from her radiating crotch. Tasteless fur fills your mouth as you twirl your tongue around and suck. The kiss alone is enjoyable even without any particular taste, or the slick texture of her mouth, so you linger there before popping off and planting the next one closer.

 

Her hooves twitch as you repeat a few more times, stopping when you can feel the hot air of her nethers moistening your cheek with humidity. You span the gap to her other thigh, taking the opportunity to inhale the smell of your mare’s excitement. But the well-known scent is laced with something different, something sweet.

 

It’s got the surgery, sweet air of an ice cream shop, but warmer…a hint of cinnamon?

 

A nervous squeak grabs your attention and you realize you’d been sniffing blatantly at her muff for longer than what you’d consider normal. Her eyes briefly meet yours to gauge your reaction. You fight your consciousness telling you to move on and instead take another whiff of her incredibly alluring scent to signify your approval, she always smells good, but this is...extra good. With that, she relaxes. She does this every time, it’s like she has to pass a test or something.

 

The allure of your partner becomes too great and you choose to forgo any further formalities.

 

Your tongue fans out over each warm lip individually, cleaning up any sprung leaks. She squeaks and shivers but stops when you pull yourself farther into her. Much to your surprise, the sweet smell you detected earlier is accompanied by a matching flavor. A hint of glucose…not unlike what you tasted in your kiss earlier.

 

You take your time lavishing her sex with your tongue, all the while her winking nub tries to draw your attention to more sensitive areas. The leaks keep coming--keeping her sex coated with its appetizing flavor. The only way to fix this is to head to the source.

 

You tongue fans out over her cleft which parts from the pressure. The moment it does, all the lubricant she’d been building up comes spilling out around your maw, accompanied by an incredibly potent musk to match.

 

“Gaah!”

 

The close proximity made it easy to catch most of it, but that wasn’t your primary concern. Her enticing smell apparently wasn’t a novelty. It was only growing in proportion to her exposure...and it’s really really good.

 

Mixed in with her heady musk, it stimulated your senses more than you expected. And the last rational thought you can afford before you become a victim of your mare’s allure is that you need more of it.

 

You push her leg back and press your lips harder against hers. Your tongue gorges itself on Dash’s natural product. It may have been a bit selfish, but there’s no guilt in it because the act is mutually beneficial; you get dessert, and Dash...

 

“Ngah!”

 

You’re pretty sure she loves it too.

 

She squirms and bucks but is unable to dislodge you. Your tongue works in conjunction with your nose to focus harder on the incredible experience. The more of her you taste, the more you need to taste her.

 

The slick texture of excess lubricant fills your mouth as you do everything in your power to experience more.

 

Suddenly, the lights dim and you break with a loud squelch to breath. Colors you didn’t realize had faded fill the room and the scene in front of you...don’t forget to breath.

 

But the sight of her puffy pink labia and darker innards does makes you do just that.

 

You use your fingers to spread her open, giving you a better view and more direct path to what you need. Closing the distance again you tentatively taste her more sheltered area. Again, you detect an even stronger sweetness. You quickly connect the dots and spread her as wide as she could comfortably go before you start lapping at her cherry red flesh.

 

“Ohoohoo!”

 

Your free hand rubs her belly to let her know you share her enthusiasm. The deeper you get, the more concentrated the taste, and more desperately you seek it. The concept seems foolproof so you decide to forfeit the bigger playground for the smaller one and plunge as far as you can into her canal.

 

“Agh-Anon!”

 

Your name earns a wiggle from your buried muscle and Dash kicks so violently her hips come off the bed. Her powerful clitoris pushes its way out of your mashed juncture to slime the side of your nose. You’re unwilling to turn away anyone, so you bring your thumb into the party to partner with it. Dash bucks and cries but gets nowhere once you lock her rump against you with all your strength. She’s powerless to express her impending climax, except verbally.

 

“Anooon! Gaah!”

 

 

Her whole body tremors and her powerful vaginal muscles wrestle with your invasive tongue as she cums. Some more concentrated sweetness surfaces from her depths, but it doesn’t take long to clean up.

 

Without giving her a break, you dive right back in, this time with more focus on her neglected clitoris.

 

Her hind leg bobs above your head--too weak to kick and too stimulated to go limp. Her other leg makes similar spastic movements across the wrinkled sheets. Looking up, you see her chest gulp deep, uneven breaths of air as the the stimulation only increases amidst her post-orgasm hypersensitivity.

 

The focus shifts from the taste to the mare; as much as you loved it, you love her more and this was a prime opportunity to make her feel even better.

 

You curl back forcefully on her walls a few times before sucking on her clit.

 

“Ghaaahaaa!”

 

Her second finale is indistinguishable among the aftershock clenches of her first, but you gauge it as best you could and ride it out with her.

 

Movements slow but they don’t stop. Your tongue wanders, the appeal of her scent reminding you of your appetite for the rest of her body. Licks sneak past her canal to encompass her perineum. Unlike her labia, the short path was covered with fine fuzz that was difficult to see, but evident under your discerning taste buds.

 

For some reason, the relative dryness of her other nethers seems like an offense and you mindlessly let your tongue guide you to where further attention was due.

 

Seconds turn to minutes as the mare shakes and squeaks; she keeps her hindleg up, enjoying the added sensation of exposure it gave her. At no time does she give you any hints that she’s uncomfortable with her treatment...which made it all the more surprising when you register the taunt pucker of her pristine plothole. Her dock, instead of slapping shut on your face, pulls back harder than ever.

 

Rather than being turned off, you’re spurred on by her receptiveness and continue to lavish her with more of the same treatment.

 

Just like everywhere else, her skin carried a hint of salt; she puckers tighter as you cross her central wrinkles and descend down her protruded wall to fill the gap made by her cheeks.

 

When you finally move on to her dock, you hear her let out a breath she’d been holding. She’d never turned you away from anything before, but she’d also never given you the opportunity you just had. A fluttering fills your chest when you realize you both passed that trust exercise with flying colors.

 

You grab a handful of her tail and gently pull to let you in her dock. The area was saltier than normal and incredibly musky...and carried the same sweet smell. Though your tongue wasn’t picking anything up, the scent was most definitely there.

 

Your other arm hooks comfortably under her thigh while you give the bare cavern the royal treatment.

 

A long, slow lick up the bare underside of her tail nub signifies completion, and you break to catch your breath.

 

Dash’s shortness of breath also becomes apparent in the absence of smacking lips. For a moment, you soak up the sight of her glistening nethers. You can’t see her expression...no are you really trying to. But if rumps could talk, you’d bet hers was saying ‘thank you.’

 

She winks and a bead of fresh juice breaks her symmetry.

 

“Anon.” You snap out of your trance and see her flustered but needy expression, “Can we...keep going?”

 

Her eyes shine with gratitude and a hope for something more. After all that she’s still this desperate? Heat is no joke, “Y-yeah...of course.”

 

She smiles before catching herself and remembering she’s supposed to feel embarrassed. A few more times like that and she won’t be.

 

Her leg stays propped up and convinces you not to waste any time, “Just uh, put it...in...please.” Her sounds more needy than she did a moment ago.

 

Her leg aligns with your chest as your hips align with each other. You meet her eyes briefly before they dart elsewhere around the room. You steady yourself and prod at her, pulling back with a thick dab of lubricant on your very tip. You spread it around before aligning with her again and pressing deeper.

 

“Mmmmgh…”

 

Your father always told you there are only few things in life that never get old, working a job you love, helping someone in need, and flooring the gas pedal on a muscle car.

 

Sex with your rainbow pegasus was also one of those things.

 

You were no strangers to each other, but still, each time you sunk into her you find something new and exciting that you never noticed before...like how her clenching resisted you until the right amount of pressure was applied. After that, it was as if she remembered your shape and form fit perfectly to accept you.

 

If her prior urgency meant anything, she’d likely want to cut to the chase. However, you held all the cards for the moment so you savor it. A gentle dip of your hips keeps her occupied long enough to grab her vertically extended wing.

 

Her canal clenches on you when she feels your fingers grace her leading edge. Her eyes widen with anticipation but still dodge yours. You pause to soak in her heat and muster the courage to pull out before penetrating her again while pulling back on her wing in perfect synchronization. The impulses from her stiff wing socket join in with those of her crotch as they fire up her spine and set alight the pleasure centers of her brain.

 

“Ooooagh!”

 

She moans aloud as her eyes are forced shut and her back arches erotically. Hilting again, you hold the position and press some of your weight into her, stretching out your own coiled nerves with your partner’s tight grip. You repeat.

 

“Ooooaaaagh!”

 

This time you stroke up the entire length of her flight appendage and pull her very tip back a few inches. With your free arm you hug her leg and repeat.

 

With each press into her depths she moans purposefully, and with each bit of added wing tension she makes your travel a bit tighter. Her hole seeps slick juices all over and despite her incredible musculature, there was nothing she could do to keep you from sliding in and out of her sex canal. Puffy labia seal around you to tease the top and bottom of your shaft with the slightest pressure; they also act as squeegee’s for Dash’s copious product production.

 

The normal mattress creaking you attributed to a good pace wasn’t there, so you’re forced to gauge by sensation alone. Her perfect hole seemed to grant every one of your wishes while at the same time inspiring ones that only the next thrust could fulfill. Nevertheless, a battle raged between the desire for motion and the yearning for intimate depth. You sporadically pause after hilting to grind your hips deeper into her easily accessible ones. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a compromise that would have to do until your incredibly inflated drive could at least be partially satiated.

 

“Agh! Dash you’re amazing!”

 

The compliment convinces her to look at you. Her eyes pour out so many emotions, all of which you pick up but none of which you consciously comprehend. What is apparent is that she’s much farther along the journey to release than you are. Her wing continues to get stroked while her other remains folded under her body weight, deriving it’s own pleasure from resisted expansion.

 

You continue to work your mare diligently until you feel something tap your head. Looking up, you find the limp end of the leg you still clutched to your chest. You momentarily abandon her wing to seize the hoof. With a bit of effort, you manage to plant a kiss on her sensitive frog.

 

“Haha-ooogh!”

 

She secretly liked having her frogs touched. You know because she’s always trying to touch them to you. She jumps a bit when you lick the soft pad. You slow your pace as you unconsciously time with her oral under hoof treatment. Out of the corner of your eye you can see her forehooves grasping at the sheets for leverage. Without thinking, you reach down and make chance contact with her love nub.

 

“Uh…”

 

That triggers something, and the next thing you see is her little hoof curl as her body reaches failure point. Without missing a beat, hot fluid explodes from your juncture to blast a cluster of streaks on the bed. Just as you realize what’s happening, a weaker clench expels a clear bead of the same substance free of her rear. Residual spasms rock the length of her canal, and her form lays motionless on the bed except for her deep breathing. It happened again.

 

‘Mare-jizzing’ as Dash liked to put it, wasn’t as common as your second encounter had led you to believe. This was only the second time it’d happened, and it takes a moment to realize that it did happen. In your time since its first occurrence, you’d thoroughly tested out any potential triggers, but they gave inconsistent results at best.

 

You treat the development with the reverence it deserves and pause to let her soak up some of the sensations that overcrowded her brain. The distinct scent of her ejaculate reaches your nose; it had a bleachy odor, like a much more subdued version of your own, but it also carried that sweet tinge you’d noticed earlier. Leakage runs from the corners of her cleft in waning breaks. You plant a final kiss on her hoof which doesn’t show any of its previous signs of sensitivity, then, you let her leg down to give her a rest.

 

She stirs and looks back at you such gratitude you’d think you just saved her life. Her eyes widen a bit when she sees the stains she’d projected near the edge of the mattress.

 

I agree, it was pretty impressive. You think to yourself. You smile at her when she blushes hard, but she doesn’t look away this time.

 

She holds a foreleg out to beckon you closer. You fall into each other in a much practiced geometry and come to rest with your noses touching. Your eyes bore into your partner’s; they read her thoughts and sense her emotions. Hers do the same to you. Your hearts soar in conjunction as you share a sensual kiss. Dash’s expresses unparalleled appreciation and yours expresses gratitude for getting the opportunity to feel appreciated.

 

Mouths linger while you breath in each other’s air. Forelegs hook your neck and your arms scoop around her withers to cradle her. By the time you break your hips had already begun moving on their own.

 

Magenta eyes flicker but stay on yours through the unusually loud squelches and pops that her body is responsible for. You find a much slower rhythm and set your cruise control with a peck.

 

Her nose finds your neck as you explore the fur of her foreleg. Hot air blows across your sensitive skin in the short puffs indicative of a sensitive nose. They travel elsewhere, up your jaw, behind your ear, then down your hairline, before coming back to where she started. You feel her take in deeper breaths and plant a kiss.

 

Your hum of approval is all she needs to commit a dozen similar treatments to the area. Instinct speaks to you, forcing you to hook a bit harder. The act shifts your position a bit and you’re forced to hold it tensely as you throb deep in her body. Dash recovers quicker than you and takes the opportunity to wander her curious nose closer to your armpit.

 

When you can finally relax, you sink back into her and get startled by her relatively cold nose in your ticklish area. She pulls back and snorts before carefully probing back into it.

 

Her appetite for your scent was something you’d grown accustomed to. At first, it made you a bit self-conscious, but it soon became clear that scent was a staple of intimacy for her, and she seemed to enjoy you regardless of how presentable you felt. Now, you just let her access to whatever she needed to scratch her itch; it was still a bit strange, but equally fulfilling…not to mention you’d be a hypocrite if you didn’t.

 

You grasp her hoof and hold it above your head. Your sweaty palm makes her frog clam up. Dash’s nose dances around your pit—tickling your curly hair a bit before she licks the underside of your arm.

 

“Haha!”

 

Laughter only makes her do it again, and again, and again, drifting farther in until all your ticklishness was overwhelmed with her presence. Rather than satiate her, your scent seems to wind her up more. Her ministrations become more erratic as she bounces between biting your neck and licking up the back of your jaw.

 

You chuckle at the sensations and bury your face in her mane to get your own fill of your partner.

 

Hip movements keep their pace but become more exaggerated as you near your limit. Dash, meanwhile, nibbles on your earlobe and sprawls her tongue out on the backside. For some reason that feels really good and she senses it. Ear nibbling continues as the texture of her canal becomes more intense.

 

Your hands move to brace her face so you can kiss it and before you know it, your climax is upon you. Dash finds your lips, knowing you can’t; her wet kiss and the message it conveys lifts a mental filter to make your ensuing experience more vivid. You push into her mouth as you erupt in the bottom of her canal. Her legs kick and her abdomen flexes as a warmth coats her cervix in succinct spurts. You kiss harder and squeeze out one final victory drop before regaining your senses.

 

Dash’s eyes greet yours with an indescribable softness that somehow said you were the center of her world. In that moment, you realize that love is far too limiting a word to describe what you feel for each other.

 

You needed each other like you needed oxygen and water. Kissing was your breathing, and touch was your nourishment.

 

Soft smiles and caring looks were the lifeblood your hearts beat for.

 

Despite all your conditioned inhibitions, you knew deep down that there was no such thing as shame because your body was hers and hers was yours. A sloppy kiss or a messy finish was nothing more than an expression of that underlying connection, and thus, the pleasant sensations were welcomed with no aversion for their outcome.

 

The pegasus tends to her mate with licks and nuzzles while he recovers.

 

For the time being, you’re content to stay there. Your member soaks in its own brimming pocket of pegasus love juices and hormones, undoubtedly sharing the secrets of it’s biology with it’s living surroundings. You caress your mare’s flushed cheek.

 

“You’re the color of my world Rainbow Dash.”

 

The words weren’t rehearsed or memorized, they didn’t even cross your mind before you spoke them. Must’ve come from the heart.

 

Dash’s eyes start to quake and water, and you continue caressing her until she manages to fight them off. You lay like that for a while, and when the time comes to part ways, you do so reluctantly and with the promise to return.

 

Dash gets up with you and silently preps the bed. Everything else can wait until morning…everything except…”One sec.”

 

“Where are you going?” Dash asks with genuine concern and shakily stands.

 

“Just doing…this.” You flip a switch on the wall and the fireplace adjacent to your bed crackles to life.

 

The worry in her eyes dissipates with each step you take towards her, but she doesn’t stop reaching for you until her foreleg is around you. You crawl under the sheets with her and flick off the lamp.

 

Orange flickers battle the shadows as a very content pegasus mare scoots as close as she physically can to you, and then some. You ignore the glistening wet spots by your feet, as well as the dribbling trail that led up her side of the covers.

 

You wrap your arms around your mate and meet her lips in a final goodnight kiss. Then, you bury your face in her mane and her muzzle finds the base of your neck. Wind howls in the dark and the building creaks a bit, but you couldn’t feel safer or more secure.

 

A hot tongue dabs at your chest reflexively and Dash smacks her mouth a bit before falling into rhythmic breathing.

 

“Goodnight Rainbow Dash.” You whisper into her hair before following her.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Gusts of wind howl outside and the building around you creaks softly from the pressure, but nothing can stir you. Even dreams avoid you for a while.

 

At least, until something bumps you.

 

Your imagination springs into action to explain the disturbance with an elaborate fabrication. Your sleep-addled mind takes everything in stride until a high pitched whine pierces the veil. Its somber tone seems to suck the happiness out of your world. You feel compelled to find it and comfort it, but you see nothing. It happens again and you cling to it like a lifeline to pull yourself awake.

 

Firelight and shadows flicker silently across the room. The air is much warmer than when you fell asleep…3 hours ago? The clock is difficult to make out, but it sure looks like the little hand is on the two.

 

Wait…where’s Dash? You go to pad the area but realize your hand is full of a hoof. A few feet away an ear perks up against the shadowy backdrop.

 

“…Anon…”

 

What’s she doing over there? And why does she sound so forlorn? “Dash? Are you alright?” You croak out, obviously much groggier than her. She hasn’t left your side when sleeping for the past month, why did she move now?

 

“Do you mind if I m-move closer?”

 

What the heck kind of question is that? “Of course you can.”

 

The moment you answer she hurriedly shuffles towards you. A whine of anticipated relief escapes her throat and you accept the sweaty mess of a pony with sympathetic arms, “Hey hey, it’s alright...what’s wrong Dash, why were you over there?” Weird pony.

 

She looks at you with unspoken gratitude and her eyes shine with a deep desire you’d never seen before. Her damp face presses into yours for some desperately needed nuzzles. A muzzle smudges its way across your cheek to drag a sloppy tongue across your mouth. The force behind her affection shocks you awake and you immediately push back into her sensing her desperation.

 

After a moment she restrains herself, slurping away a thick string of excess spit before speaking, “I got too hot and didn’t want to wake you up.” She whispers so close her air warms your wet lips

 

You try to console her by responding with a kiss, but she eagerly gobbles up your lips, focusing more on your raw taste and sensation than the dignity of the embrace. Her saliva tastes exceptionally sweet and you don’t shy away from it despite the smell of halfway morning breath. This time, you make the effort to break so you can appraise your mare.

 

You prop yourself up on an elbow to better see her yearning eyes. The fireplace is making it a bit warm but it’s still not that—holy cow! Just below where your head sat on the pillow was a sweat stain the shape of Dash’s face. She isn’t kidding.

 

The mare is sprawled out with all the blankets kicked off except for a thin sheet. Her breathing sounds unusually deep and she clutches your arm tightly. The spicy smell of Dash sweat inundates your senses. You reach out to tuck away some damp mane sticking to her neck, “I’d rather have you next to me and be a bit warm then visa versa.” You whisper.

 

That seems to quell any irrational fears she had and she shuffles closer, groaning as she struggles to touch as much of you as she can; she’d accept any excuse to satisfy her contact withdrawals at this point. Worry for your partner keeps you from getting lost in the closeness of her enthralling presence. She’s never acted like this before, how long has she been sleeping over there?

 

“Hey, are you feeling alright? Need some water or want me to turn down the heat?”

 

She gulps, “M-maybe some water?” You nod and move to slide out of bed but she doubles down her grip and halts you, “N-nevermind, I’m good.”

 

What is wrong with her? “Dash, you’re soaked. Are you sure you’re alright?”

 

Even in the dark you can see her cheeks are flushed; locks of mane stick to her matted, clumpy fur in wavy lines. Sweat permeates her cyan coat and glitters everywhere except the shadows. She licks her nose to get rid of a ticklish droplet—leaving it even more glittery in the orange light. On the very edges of her silhouette you swear you can see steam wafting off her damp body. She is really hot.

 

Honestly, she looked stunning, but didn’t mean she couldn’t be sick as well. Maybe she got a cold from earlier? “Let me check something.” You reach out to lay the back of your hand against her forehead.

 

That’s a fever if you ever felt one. Ponies typically ran around a hundred normally, but the one staring at you anxiously was well over that. It was far from an emergency but it was genuinely concerning, “Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds and turn off the heat.”

 

“No. I’m fine.” She manages before her nose drifts behind your jaw to blatantly sniff you.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It’s-*huff, it’s not the temperature…” Dash groans and shifts uncomfortably. Her shaky legs stretch and her dock lifts the sheet a bit.

 

The poor mare’s in pain. “I’m going to find the medication I packed.”

 

“Noooo just stay…” Her muzzle drifts behind your ear and she brings a hoof up to hold your head down, “...right there.” she licks the crevice of your ear and pushes her snorting muzzle into your scalp.

 

“Heheh, it tickles quit it!” Despite your protests you make no effort to remove the mare practically crawling over you. All you can hear is wet lapping as she works her way around your ear before starting to nibble on it, “Heh, Dash, what are you doing it’s two in the morning.” As obnoxious as it sounded from point blank it was really soothing, but the timing was a bit unusual for a mare who could sleep through a trainwreck.

 

She pulls away leaving her copious donation of sweat to cool off your skin. Her big magenta eyes catch what little light gets thrown from the fire, “I’m just uh…” her twitching nose notices something of interest, she leans in closer, “...just wanted to do this.” her breathy words escape as a whisper and her nostrils home in on your breath. A uncoordinated tongue invades your mouth and you find yourself being pushed back into the pillow.

 

Okay...you’re pretty sure you know what this is. You willingly tangle with her for a bit longer; she breaks with a smack to take a breath but you pause her before she dives back in, “Dash, do you need some help?”

 

Her eyes dart away nervously. Yep, that answers that question, “N-No...”

 

She musters the courage to lean back in but you hold her off, refusing to reward her until you got a straight answer. Instead she diverts south and pushes her hot muzzle into your neck.

 

*lick

 

“You should…”

 

*lick

 

“...just get some sleep.”

 

*lick

 

 

Geez she is all over you. You appreciate the sentiment, but you weren’t about to let her get away with that. She should know you better, “But it wouldn’t be fair if I got some sleep and you had to stay awake all riled up like this.” Your hands trace up her ribs and slip into her sweat stained wingpits.

 

Almost immediately her wings pop away from her torso. You nuzzle her face out from under your chin and tend to her timid blush as she rapidly becomes erect. You stifle a chuckle at her unnecessary bashfulness and she tries to hide her face. You parry her nose with your own, “Aww, hey...I know that you’re just trying to be thoughtful and nice and I appreciate it—”

 

“—mmm-not.” She pouts.

 

You kiss her cheek with a smirk. Fingers infiltrate her feathers at the base of her under-wings and they bob at attention, “Either way I just want to let you know that this vacation is for you.” You pause until she meets your eye; your own marker of excitement throbs against her cute mark, “And in case you haven’t noticed I’m more than happy to help you with heat, even if I have to wake up in the middle of the night to do it.”

 

You start to blush as it bobs again. The fact that she wasn’t the only one at obvious attention alleviated almost all of her embarrassment, allowing her needs to resurface.

 

“Heh, sorry I’ve just never had anypony help me with heat before.”

 

“Well you don’t have anypony, you have me, and I want to help you Dash.” She looks down and snorts, “What? You don’t actually think rutting you is a chore do you?” You ask jokingly.

 

She snorts again, “Heh, no I just didn’t want to like, scare you away or anything.”

 

Wait. “What?”

 

“No it sounds dumb when I say it like that; I just meant that-—”

 

“—You actually think you can scare me away by asking for too much sex?”

 

“Haha! No! I just thought that, I mean, Rarity said stallions don’t like needy mares and—”

 

“—Oooh so Rarity’s been giving you advice huh? How many humans has she dated?”

 

 

She giggles and ducks away from your nosy nose, “Heheheh! None, I just wanted to know how to do relationships better!”

 

You relent, “Dash, listen, you do relationships good...I mean, you’re good at relationships.” She snickers at your wording, “You don’t need someone else’s advice to figure out what your heart’s telling you.”

 

She gulps and nods silently. You caress her cheek as she forms a question, “S-so, are you ok with helping me?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

You wait patiently as she works through the question, “I think...that…” She looks back and lifts her hind leg away to get a look at your erection, “...you’re really h-hot-uhh, hard.” She manages past a bad voice crack.

 

You stifle your laugh. That’s really awesome to hear from her, even if she did catch herself, “Because?”

 

She swallows and glances up with a blush before looking back to your groin, “Because...you’re thinking about my plot?”

 

“Hahahaha! Not quite but I’ll let it count.” She looks back, confused, “So, what do you think that means?”

 

“It means...you want to r-rut me?”

 

“Correct! See, it wasn’t that difficult.”

 

She hits your shoulder, “I knew that! I was just trying to be—”

 

“—Sweet and caring and unimposing?”

 

“N-no.”

 

You quirk a brow at her as she tries to ignore the fact you’ve got her backed in a corner, “Well I think this conversation is over.” You abandon her wing and reach back to tease the naked skin under her tail.

 

She jolts and her eyes go wide with surprise, but she sinks back into you as her tail lifts away. Once she realizes what is happening her mouth crashes into yours with enough force to touch teeth. Her gift of sweet honey permeates your taste buds while she lets out a relieved moan. In desperation she fumbles her way on top of you, straddling your waist.

 

The spice of her sweating body overwhelms you with its potency—far stronger than after a day at Wonderbolts practice. Her muzzle makes short, jerky movements to carry her tongue across your teeth. Hind legs grip you like a vice, but at the moment she doesn’t take advantage of your perfect alignment. Her touchy wing jerks from excitement and you make the mistake of turning to look.

 

A hoof gently but firmly faces you back towards Dash’s slobbery muzzle, which predictably, slobbers on you. Her sweetness is much stronger than before and controlled kisses turn into raw licking as you both find something in each other that you desire. The more of her mouth you taste, the more of her taste you need to feel satisfied, and the more of her you need to touch. The shared appetite lets you viciously swap spit for countless minutes.

 

Dash breaks with a smack and blasts you with her labored breathing. Saliva drips from her soaked muzzle onto your chin. She licks up her spit and gives you another sopping smooch before moving on. Kisses pepper your cheek and down your neck; a warm tongue on your collarbone makes you shudder, as does the lavish attention she shows to your nipple.

 

Sighs of pleasure escape your throat, but her own intuition remains her sole guide. You look down to see a glimmering trail of saliva down your chest and zigzagged across your stomach with no rhyme or reason. A few forceful licks in your belly button precedes a quick one to get to your nethers.

 

Dash knocks the sheets back and wastes no time digging in. Her tongue follows your length to its base and tugs on the loose skin of your testicles. She tends to them for a bit before lapping up your shaft to its tip. In one motion she swallows it and twists her head to circle her long tongue around as much as she can.

 

“Ah!”

 

Just as fast as you were in her, you’re out. A glistening bead of saliva dangles from your tip as you stare down. Just as it’s about to drip, your whole member smacks your abdomen with the excited energy imparted by a desperate muzzle. You bob back up as she turns her attention lower again. She has no idea what she wants.

 

But she soon finds out. Puffs of air, which had been peppering your body thus far, suddenly increase in pace. She pauses to bury her muzzle along your testes and you feel the cool sensation of air rushing past you and into her lungs. She holds it in, then returns it warmer than before. Her head perks up while she hastily shifts position, then she goes back to business.

 

Her fore hoof very gently pulls your sack to the side to give her huffing muzzle access. You feel her jaw part and a wet snake slithers its way to the bottom of your thigh crevice.

 

You’d never really felt that before, but it sure doesn’t feel bad. You open your leg so she doesn’t have to try so hard and she definitely appreciates it. The heat-crazed mare takes to lapping up the salty channel to check some unexplainable box on her checklist. The only sure way to give her her much needed fix was to let her have her way. And that’s what you do…for the next few seconds.

 

You notice a blue rump dangling just within arms reach. Dash is now alternating between bathing your length and huffing your musk—a combination she really seems to be getting into. You reach out and grab her hind leg, but she’s far too focused to cooperate. You end up dragging her rear end over by said leg and notice her dock slowly raising for you.

 

The moment her rear slides within wafting distance of your nose, you pick up the most amazing thing you’ve ever smelt. The combination of the sweet, sweaty, heady musk of her privates knocks your mind clear of your body, and for a moment, you wonder if you’re in heaven.

 

A tickling tongue-tip around the edge of your corona tells you that you are, and you give in to the powerful urge to bring gratification to the one gratifying you.

 

You lean in and probe into her shadowy crevice with a gentle hand; her vulva are engorged with need—pressing out between her labia like a fat, wet, pursed kiss. The swelling disturbs the geometry of her nethers so much that you wouldn’t be able to identify her without the prismatic tail nearby. But that’s not the only thing that grabs your attention. Spasms rock her mareparts in a familiar rhythm; looking down, you see her body frozen and trembling and realize she’s grinding her muzzle into your manhood and taking deep breaths. Her forelegs grip around your hip and thigh harder and harder as she sniffs you. Is she…having an orgasm?

 

You pull your fingers away leading a bubbled string of crystal clear slime. You’d help her ride it out, but watching her scrunch her nose and squint as she holds her muzzle against your genitals is just too entertaining.

 

Soon, her symptoms subside and she finally relents from her forceful indulgence. She turns to meet your surprised look, “W-what?”

 

You just shake your head to dismiss the question. She answers anyways, “Y-you smell good ok?” She blushes as she comes to terms with how her kinks sound out loud.

 

“It’s fine with me.”

 

She meets your eyes and manages a shy smirk, then, she nuzzles her way up to your jaw.

 

Hot pegasus sweat soaks your hands as you massage her withers and neck. The same moisture coats your nose and upper lip while she finishes nuzzling. Her desires are very evident from the look in her eyes, and as luck would have it, you’re perfectly equipped to satiate them.

 

Fine fibers of her tail tease more sensitive areas as she moves to straddle your lounged form. Her crotch is incredibly hot when she presses it to your abdomen. Furry thighs, damp with sweat among other things, grip you tightly and guide her bared bits to a safe landing. Her fur was hot but her naked skin is scalding; you can distinguish the bare patch from her muff all the way to the tip of her pulled back dock.

 

Her tail flicks under the sheets, and she lets out a relieved coo when she feels your relative cool. If the skin you can feel is that hot, how much hotter is she under all that fur?

 

You doubted estrus was solely to blame, but either way you felt obligated to get her more comfortable as fast as possible. The part of your belly she was straddling quickly heats up and she slides down farther—spreading her legs wider to feel more of your relatively cool skin.

 

If you had your way, you’d push her on her back and fan her off, but from the looks of things, temperature control came second to quelling the fires of lust that filled her body.

 

You hold onto her hind legs as she slides farther and farther back under the covers. Bodies glide past each other on layers of their own perspiration and arousal. Dash breathes heavier as she nears her target, and when she finds it, a switch flips in her head.

 

Any semblance of restraint and control surrenders to overwhelming appetite for her partner. Her hips turn into a blur as she begins to hump vigorously on your prone member.

 

“Aaaagh...yeah!” She cries and lets out a sigh of relief.

 

Heat, friction, and moisture from your mare effectively paralyze you with pleasure. Her eyes flutter above gritted teeth and you move a hand to her neck for stability. She manages to meet your gaze without breaking pace; both of you blush hard at the intentions the look revealed.

 

In this moment there was no way to deny your needs. You were the only ones in the world you even considered doing this with, and that knowledge bestowed a mutually shared feeling of privilege. Your mare trusted you with her body, her intimacy, her secrets. It was a hard-won bond that was only successful because you trusted her equally, and it was more apparent now than it had ever been.

 

At any other time, Dash may have lowered her eyes or stuttered out a reason to defend her actions, but not now. There was no need to speak, no need for justification, no shame in flagrantly rubbing your most intimate parts together. Your mare is in heat, she needs you; turning her down or even slowing her down would mean denying her the one gift you had to give…yourself.

 

Dash winks mid-hump and you feel her muscled button smear more fluid across your spongy underside. She catches her breath and legs shake as she loses her strength. Luckily, you’re there to support her; she flashes an appreciative smile while she takes the moment to route out her newly discovered urge.

 

Her hips move at a shallower angle to rub her clitoris on your shaft. Jerky cyan legs splay out beside you as she dexterously pulls back her clitoral hood on your member to expose her most nerve-dense region to yours. The long fur of her pubic area alternates between sticking her her lips and your slicked shaft, the ticklish sensation complements the silky feel of her naked skin.

 

Your arms prop her up by her furry breast while her forelegs struggle. Intense moans and pleasureful squeaks are all the payment you could ask for giving her the support she needs to touch you the way she wants.

 

Neither of you were particularly ‘good in bed’ as you understood it. You knew only that you loved each other, and you wanted to make each other feel good; from there it was an open slate as far as how you chose to achieve that end. The lack of prior experience meant you had no standards to live up to. With two young and highly driven partners, it was modest to say that creativity ran rampant and every experience was a new take, or spinoff of the previous. However, many of your favorite activities amounted to little more than bare, prolonged contact between your sexes. It was the most direct and obvious way to express your subconscious desire to share your most closely guarded areas in a smelly, messy confession of trust.

 

Rainbow Dash writhes above you, her mane a sweaty mess clinging her brow above half-lidded eyes, her wings on full display unhindered by the sheet that masked your superficial fornication. She grunts and tucks her chin and you regrettably have to close your eyes lest the scene unfolding on top of you inches you any closer to your impeding finish.

 

In the absence of any visuals, vulgar schlicking sounds become evident, and they only increase in volume and intensity. In short, there’s only one direction you can go. You abandon her hips as you have no hope of controlling them and instead bring your second hand up to scratch in her wing pit. The nearby wing stretches out to bare her pit to the pleasant sensation.

 

“Aaagh!”

 

Sweat from her lightly furred skin accumulates on your fingers and runs down the palm of your hand, and then your arm. Her wing pits were very porous and contained far more sweat glands than average; they needed to sweat profusely to cool off the pegasus’ toiling flight muscles in the calmer slipstream she created at high speed. The salty water didn’t bother you one bit as you massage her rarely touched flight muscles with an open palm; in fact, your touch expresses gratitude for the area’s huge contribution to you mare’s pleasant odor.

 

Finally, she slows to a stand still just as you’re about to pop. You knew she didn’t share the same desire to postpone your release, so you keep quiet and hope for the best. But it soon becomes difficult to ignore the twitching labia that press their drooling kiss against you. The tingling of a contraction teases the edges of consciousness.

 

Sweaty mane tickles your sweaty face and you feel her wet, fuzzy lips before her breath. The quick display of emotion was the last straw that nudges over the smooth crest of climax.

 

In the very next moment Dash adjusts her hips and takes you to the hilt in one slick motion. Her swollen vulva feel like two hot and doughy pillows that eagerly fill around your form to suck you in like you’re the long lost piece to her puzzle. The gentle hill quickly becomes a rocky precipice that engulfs you in violent descent.

 

“Haaaa—*mmpf!”

 

Your cry of pleasure travels down your mare’s throat and tickles her lungs with incredible joy. Semen sprays the door to her uterus with tremendous force; her hooves hold your shoulders down while she pushes you along with her kiss and pulls you along with her clenching glutes and canal. Every bit of her, from the texture of her innards and the taste buds on her tongue to the sweet aroma of her breath, becomes more defined as your climax continues full-force. Dash continuously makes minute adjustments to prolong your pleasure—telling you she was still coherent. In her position of complete authority, her own needs never even cross her mind; every squeeze, nudge and rub were calculated to give you the most amazing release possible.

 

Ejaculate fills her and squeezes out to run down your twitching scrotum. The wet pop of an air bubble being displaced by your load signals the end of the finale.

 

Dash lets you breathe and you take advantage of it, “*gasp…Oh Rainbow!’’

 

She snickers as you continue to throb numbly inside her, “Heh, thought you might like that.”

 

“You’re *huff, awesome…” You have to admit you’re surprised. She obviously knows you better than you know yourself to time it like that. You continue to muse silently as the rush of feelings subside. It felt like the room was spinning and you hold onto her for support.

 

Your eyes close and just as you think it would be nice to hug her at the moment, she lays down and does just that. Your little pegasus squeezes you for all she’s worth, and despite the warm product of Dash’s efforts spilling past her seal, you feel completely at peace. Her warm, velvet tongue laps gently at your cheek in a post-coital display of care, protection and possessiveness. Sweet breath washes your face and her slick muscle swabs the same spots, over and over, minute after amazing minute.

 

“Hey…didn’t you want to finish too?” You ask softly.

 

She keeps licking while she thinks, “…In a bit. I feel better already though, a-after the...the uh, c-cum.”

 

You peek an eye open at her and you catch her staring at you with dilated irises, tucked ears, and the most flustered look you’ve seen since you’d caught her digging through your hamper last Tuesday.

 

Even though her wings still throb and her crotch twitches with winks, she lets you rest in the afterglow.

 

Surprisingly, your member never loses its temper, and your appetite is far from satiated.

 

Dash seems to sense the difference and she clenches to gauge your sensitivity. When you offer no response she pulls back to perk her ears and watch your face as she does it again. You smile meekly and kiss her lips to give her permission to continue. With the fear of overstimulation abated, her appetite makes a vicious comeback.

 

She sits up and braces a hoof on your belly. Hips rock back and forth to test the position, and you feel your head push past some distinctly fatter wrinkles a few inches in.

 

“Aahaagh!”

 

Her pink clitoris pushes out to tell you she found what she was looking for. Your injection may have numbed her symptoms for the time being, but it didn’t grant her immunity.

 

Cyan colors flick across your legs as your pegasus begins to ride you with all her might. Pasty white cum coats her lips as it leaks down your shaft in long, milky trails—its pallor diluted by her her own clear fluid. The living lubrication make the more aggressive angle she’s taking you at nearly effortless and very loud.

 

Though you were still a bit numb, the pleasureful grunts and moans of your partner made you realize how much of sex was mental. You very quickly find yourself thrusting up to meet Dash’s pelvis; the reward of seeing her open mouthed grin of satisfaction was so great that you don’t realize the feeling isn’t coming from your crotch.

 

Dash on the other hand, has more than enough stamina to keep herself entertained. Her normally random winking patterns started to coincide with every thrust, and each time she forces you past her thick wrinkles she grits her teeth a little bit harder. Her powerful hind legs lock her in place on your midsection and despite her being half your weight, she completely dominates you.

 

At first take, you were surprised at how submissive the competitive, type-A pegasus could be. In the first dozen times you were intimate she never once tried to take the lead, except sometimes to initiate; when she finally did show some boldness, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do and ended up feeling more embarrassed than empowered. The only reason she’d tried since is because she trusted you enough to admit she was uncertain, and she knew you passed no judgement if she came off as timid or had to ask a question that ruined the immersion. You never expected it coming from the natural leader, but you held those moments close to your heart and did your best to facilitate her impetus when it arose.

 

The increased libido from heat gave her the perfect excuse for taking control, and so far she hasn’t shown any misgivings about her position. You let out each and every pleased expression that crosses your mind to reward her confidence; just to demonstrate how enjoyable her ideas can be for the both of you.

 

Of course, you did none of this consciously. You were far too high on your partner to understand anything besides what nature was whispering in your ear.

 

Her movements become more deliberate and you feel muscles throbbing behind her g-spot as you grind past them. By now you’d gotten back most of your sensation, and you were thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her exceedingly moist hole.

 

Dash leans back and plants her forehooves beside your legs as she gets closer to the finish line. Her pelvis curls into yours at the perfect angle to get the job done. The toned musculature of her abdomen flexes naturally with the movement and keeps her belly taunt above her bulging teats. The small mounds giggle with each hump; pinpricks of glistening sweat pierce her sea of fur and accentuate her hard, hairless nipples. You sense you’re being watched and look over to see her looking at you past locks of sweaty orange hair; she’s putting on this show for you.

 

You show your appreciation by groping her perfect handful of damp teat; despite their petiteness, they’re the perfect consistency. You much prefer them where they’re at. A nipple tweak coincides with a powerful shudder from the pegasus.

 

“Gaaah! Don’t move!”

 

Her downward thrusts get more precise as she uses your rock hard chisel to rub against the short region a few inches in. From this position it looks like her semen-coated clitoris is begging for your attention. You can’t resist.

 

You pop your index finger in your mouth before guiding towards her nethers. Dash watches it with folded ears and flexes extra hard to bare her nub for your touch.

 

“Ngaaah!”

 

Gently circling the creamy pearl gets the reaction you’re looking for. Delicate movements suddenly stop and she sits down hard. Wings stretch and pulse as her feathers ripple with the premonition of release; it occurs to you that you can hear her feathers sliding apart from each other in the absence of her labored breathing.

 

Then, she cums.

 

Hours worth of estrus induced build-up pours out of her as she squirts hard on your buried penis. A pool of concentrated musk grows on your abdomen as the pent up pegasus expels another torrid stream—squeezing past your plug and escaping down the top of your shaft with incredible force. The clear, thick fluid refreshes the air with her sweet musk and brings with it a warmth that covers your crotch and fills your heart. Hands brace her jerky hips as she finishes ejaculating.

 

Wow…Your partner stays still on top of you. The puddle of musk she’d released glows orange in the firelight. She focuses on catching her breath and leaves you to gawk at the mess she’d made. Winks keep your eyes glued to an incredibly beautiful part of her anatomy, “That was…hot.”

 

The prismatic pegasus chuckles back to life, leaning forward, she collapses into your waiting arms. She feels like a furry heating pad that’d just gotten out of the shower; it makes you hold her tighter, “Heheh…*huff…that’s why it’s called heat…*huff.”

 

A droplet of sweat tickles her nose and you lick it off for her. Salty.

 

She continues to catch her breath and in the silence you start to realize just how spent she was. Not a single muscle on her body did anything to support her weight. Long strands of her mane stick to beads of sweat on your own face. You swipe away the ticklish ones and leave the rest.

 

You were still a bit worked up, but if your mare was calm then you didn’t want to stir things up again. With your bedmate satiated, sleep becomes your main drive. Dash, and the puddle of love slowly spreading out from you are the only things on your mind as you close your eyes. You hold onto her petite frame and pull up the blankets around you, trapping your mate and her precious humidity in with you. You tuck your face into her mane and sigh; her pungent coital smells made it a bit stuffy. This is perfect.

 

“Love you Dash.” You breath as you drift off still rock hard and hilted in the messy crevice of her hind legs.

 

“Heh, love ya too big guy.” She nuzzles your ear.

 

For the next minute Dash’s breathing and the crackling of the fireplace fills your world.

 

Unbeknownst to you, sleep was the last thing on your cuddler’s mind. It’s not that she wasn’t tired, her eyelids hang limp—eyelashes flittering across your cheek. The problem she was slowly becoming aware of was simply too pertinent to put off until morning…not when the solution was still pulsing inside her body.

 

Heat had the strangest effect on her as it did all mares; one you were yet unfamiliar with, though your partner hinted at it already. The yearning she felt, the stimulation her body demanded, that incessant sexual obsession that estrus had given her, simply couldn’t be satiated.

 

At least…that what she’d thought before.

 

Now she realized that there was a solution to her problem. There was no more need to ache day in and day out. No more need to lock herself in her home for a miserable week. Her loins contained a fire but your seed could quell it.

 

Unfortunately, her last orgasm had effectively cleared her anatomy of the soothing goo, and the itch to be inseminated was returning. It wouldn’t let her sleep until she felt her mate’s living sperm swimming around inside of her. The only problem is she’d have to wake you up again.

 

Furry lips gently kiss the side of yours and an nose nudge draws you back awake, barely.

 

You peek an eye open to see a deeply apologetic face you recognize, “Dash?”

 

She bites her lip, clearly uncomfortable with what she’s about to ask, “I was just wondering…can I k-keep going? Please? I’ll be slow an-and gentle so you can rest and—“

 

“—Dash…” You freeze her in her tracks and watch as her cheeks turn red, “…You don’t need to ask every time. And for the record, I’d love to keep going if that’s what you need.”

 

Her eyes light up with immeasurable gratitude. A cold string of of mare juice snaps to your testes as she lifts her soaked dock in response. In all honesty you were really tired, but making love to your mare was one of the few things that was totally worth losing sleep over. One might even describe it as a profitable trade off.

 

You lean in for a kiss but instead feel a tongue on your lips. Dash is too excited to notice the miscommunication and immediately begins rocking her hips. True to her word she made no drastic movements, instead opting to gently circle while remaining hilted. She stays sprawled across your chest, her hot breath rolls out over your bare skin and makes you perspire even more.

 

Being chest-to-chest with an excessively sweaty, smelly, affectionate mare was much more relaxing than you expected it to be. Once you got over the immediate discomfort of soaking your sheets in more ways than one, it was thoroughly enjoyable. Almost like a sauna...of pegasus.

 

You were torn between your body trying to shut itself off and your mind trying to stay on. Dash said she wanted one more round, but you had a feeling that the night was far from over.

 

This heat’s going to be a little bit more work than you thought it’d be.

 

 

 

Lazy dust floats through the beams of sunlight pricing the curtains; songbirds chirp in chorus with a lone mourning dove and melting snow patters onto the patio outside your door.

 

“Mmmm…” Dash’s lethargic groan fits in with the music of a sunny winter morning.

 

You lay in each other’s grasp, turned inwards, her sticky, spit stained muzzle resting alongside your nose, your legs positioned to hold your hips together. Bedsheets strew around you in a mangled, damp mess, complimenting your bed mate’s equally unruly mane and tail.

 

Matted cyan fur fills between your fingers as you grasp her close, a layer of dried sweat helps your wandering hands form lasting impressions in her hair.

 

“Uuuuuh…” She moans quietly.

 

You find the strength to kiss her hot cheek. A fore hoof weakly braces off your chest to let her return a nuzzle with acceptable force. Her gesture ends with a tiny lick before she goes completely limp again.

 

Orgasm after incredible orgasm left your minds reeling with dopamine release; time melded together into one savory but indistinct memory that struggles to get filed properly amidst the sea of endorphins saturating your brain. The only thread of continuity in the haze of pleasure is how many times Dash had finished...what are you on now? The question is quickly forgotten as you feel her muscles strain at the bottom of her canal. Her hooves squeeze you harder and lets out a very guttural groan. Here comes another one.

 

As expected, one more round evolved into a night’s worth of trading climaxes back and forth. The horny pony just couldn’t work a sizable enough load from your exhausted balls to fix her itch, and any compounding effects were washed away on waves of her ever leaking juices. It created a vicious cycle that teased her with the feeling she knew you could give her, she just had to figure out how to milk you right. No one told her that she was butting up against the production limit of your testes by forcing so many orgasms; though she’d probably figured it out by now.

 

Being buried in her body for the past five hours had taught you some things as well; mainly it’d given you a new appreciation for her complexity. Depending on the type of stimulation she could have three different types of orgasm, four if you count wingjobs. Clitoral orgams were the easiest to achieve and lasted a few seconds, ones originating from her G-spot were much more intense and required a lot more friction to kick off, but the one stirring in her abdomen was of a different breed entirely. She’d only done it once a few hours ago, but she was showing the exact same symptoms.

 

The athlete’s exhausted wing stretches back to full span despite her muscles being completely spent. The appendage twitches as you hold onto it for leverage. You’d long since abandoned the laboring task of thrusting, opting instead to grind into each other from your hilted position.

 

You mindlessly nibble on her muzzle again but this time she doesn’t struggle to return the affection. Her limp legs tense and pull apart as she uses her last reserves of strength to let you edge her closer to what must feel like heaven.

 

The preeminent pulses at the bottom of her hole spread farther in rather than closer to her entrance. The narrow, firm ring of her cervix puckers against your tip, and her abs clench as if rocked by laughter.

 

“Haaah…”

 

She curls into you as the contraction knocks the wind out of her. You squeeze her tighter and strain to push into her deeper as her cervix becomes more active. Her clitoris stops winking and remains pushed out as she squeezes just around your spongy glans. The bottom of her canal pushes against you then relaxes. Her abs shudder.

 

“Atta girl...almost there.” You breathe into her ear.

 

The pegasus grips you tightly as her brain tries to sweep away her senses. Her deep contractions pick up pace and she whimpers as her whole body starts to tremble. Finally, she catches her breath; you push her hips into yours by the scruff above her tail and mimic the grinding motion you know she would try if she had the strength.

 

“Uh!”

 

In an instant her whole canal pulses with one long contraction, filling the calm room with the sounds of slick undulation. The sheets stretch under her hooves as the waves of pleasure spread throughout her uterus. Her cervix dilates, knowing from experience that she can trust you with an exposed womb. Thick cervical fluid feels unnaturally hot on your glans and seems to double your sensitivity.

 

The breathless pegasus struggles stay open, waiting for you to put an end to her torture by taking advantage of the rarely achieved breeding geometry. Luckily, she doesn’t have to wait long. Making your mare cum was the last straw you needed to tip the scales on your end. An instinctive response forces you to get deeper, and Dash’s engorged vulva, having already swallowed your complete length, mush like heated marshmallows against your crotch.

 

The world around you distorts, colors become more vibrant, scents become richer, and your mare feels like an angel granting you a glimpse of heaven. You plug her hole just in time to spill your small donation of watery seed over the doorway to her uterus—which flexes with renewed strength after receiving your reward. The feeling of your climax sustains your partner’s and you both ride the waves of bliss far past previous boundaries. You find a breath somewhere in-between spasms and pull her tighter; the empty contractions served no purpose other than to bring you pleasure. Your minds had conquered your bodies, carrying you far past the point of evolutionary necessity for the sake of affection. Pituitary glands inundate your blood streams with their last reserves of endorphins in a desperate measure to finally satiate your desire to mate.

 

You’re not sure how long it lasted, even if you wanted to see the clock past Dash’s face, you wouldn’t have been able to understand it. But when you finally ride the slow descent to a soft landing, your realize that time didn’t matter. You had the rest of your lives to spend with each other…every waking moment if you so desired. That thought was enough to make every fear and worry you’ve ever had seem frivolous.

 

Dash’s droopy eyelids stay out of the way enough for her dilated magenta irises to thank you. Her quest was finally over, the stars had aligned to allow you to conquer the world-class athletes estrus-laden libido. You can’t help but be proud. It’s a feat to do that when she’s not in heat.

 

You watch with amusement as her expression changes almost imperceptibly. The mixture of chemicals and proteins you’d deposited in her permeate through her walls and seep into her bloodstream—spreading a fulfilling warmth from her abdomen out through the rest of her.

 

Her muzzle cracks a smirk and she giggles.

 

It was almost like life was rewarding her for taking the risk of loving something so different from her.

 

“Heheh! I can’t feel my hooooves.” Dash slurs while wiggling her hind legs.

 

Her mischievous, happy smile is contagious, “I wonder why, maybe you are actually sick?”

 

“Nooo silly…it’s cuz of you.” She pushes on you playfully before hugging you tighter and licking your neck.

 

She is out of it. “I don’t. This heat stuff is a bit suspicious-pffft!” She retracts her tongue from your lips to let you finish, “For all I know you could be making all this up just to get an excuse to get ear scratches for a week.”

 

Her smile grows, “Aww nooo you foiled my plans!” She stretches and yawns before snapping her head back and bonking your head, “Oof! Sorry heh.” She atones with an equally uncoordinated kiss.

 

You rub her forehead and she smiles contently, “Even if you are I guess I’m ok with that.”

 

“Hehehe, good. Cuz otherwise I’ll have to kidnap you.”

 

“Oh...”

 

She hums into your chest and hugs you, “Hey, Anon?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I gotta pee.”

 

“…Ok.”

 

“Bad.”

 

“Are you sure it’s not—“

 

“—Are you kidding? I ran out of that stuff like two hours ago! You should know it’s all over you—“

 

“—Ok fair point.”

 

“…”

 

“So…maybe you should head to the bathroom?”

 

She looks up at you with puppy eyes, “I don’t want you to leave...” she trails off as realizes it's better to hold it for the time being than have you pull out.

 

“Well…I kinda have to.”

 

She blinks as she tries to focus on you. Her cheeks are flushed, but you can’t tell if its from embarrassment or exercise, “I’m not sure if I can walk.” She smirks.

 

Oh. The implications are apparent.

 

“It’s your fault ya know.”

 

You sigh at the giggling mare, “Alright.”

 

You slowly pull out of her for the first time since you’d woken up almost five hours ago. The relatively cool air grabs your attention as you leave the protection of her canal. You do your best to ignore the stained mess of fur and tail between her legs. If you had fur down there you’d surely look worse.

 

Dash was less than thrilled with the change but still manages a smirk as you find your feet and hold out a hand. You clutch her to your chest and make your way to the facilities. Your legs are actually shaky. Is this what she feels too?

 

The mare watches the scenery go by until you set her down on the toilet, pulling her tail out of the way beforehand. The moment you stop supporting her she starts tipping over. Wings half flare and hooves paw at the wall but it’s too far away for her to catch herself. You rush back and catch her just in time and she flashes an apologetic smile, “Heh, thanks.”

 

You stabilize her and leave again, but just as you close the door you hear a crash. Rushing back in you see Dash prostrate on the floor, struggling to get up, “Oh Dash! I’m so sorry!”

 

She rubs her chin and grunts, “Nah, it’s my fault.” Slowly you pick her up and replace her, rubbing her chin out of concern. She really can’t feel her legs.

 

Timid eyes find yours, “Maybe…” her voice wavers, “…you could h-hold my hoof?” She looks up and winces as if expecting dismissal.

 

The suggestion catches you off-guard, you knew she was pretty comfortable with you but this proved it, “Um, sure.”

 

You take hold of her hoof. The bathroom was too open to really give her any privacy and she keeps her eyes on you to make sure you weren’t having any second guesses, “Go ahead.” You nod and stare at the wall. Her hoof pulls on you momentarily while she catches her balance. You squeeze it harder for reassurance. After a few seconds you hear a weak trickle, then nothing.

 

“Wow, you sure had to go bad.” You try and lighten the mood.

 

She snorts, “Heh, just gimme a sec.” The joke did its job of relaxing her and she manages to relieve herself without any further hiccups. When she’s finished you break off a few squares of toilet paper and hold them out. A second invisible hoof snags them and the toilet flushes.

 

You take that as your cue to pick her back up and carry her to the sink. After washing your hands and hooves you collapse back on the bed.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Dash’s fiery red cheeks were starting to cool, but you rewarm them with a peck of affection, “Anytime, Dash.”

 

You’d never have thought in a million years that you’d help the proud Rainbow Dash do something like that, nor did you think you’d be the reason she needed help in the first place. You look at the mare snuggling up to you unaware of your gaze. The truth you’d known for months fills your mind. She was still every bit the character she flaunted in public. The brash, fighting, never-quit attitude, her pride in herself and her friends, her competitive drive. But she’s so much more. She’s caring and protective and incredibly affectionate; it just took her awhile to feel comfortable enough to express that.

 

At any other time you’d feel unworthy and out of your league. But such thoughts were forbidden now that you realized how much it hurt her to think them. Instead, you channeled that into guilt; guilt that you were far too jealous to share any of your precious mare with the rest of the world.

 

She settles down and you smile, “So…is it ok if I get some sleep now?”

 

“Heh, I told ya to go to sleep before we started.”

 

“Yeah, but I would’ve missed out on staying up and watching you make faces at me.”

 

She catches your smile, “What faces?”

 

“The ones where you go like…” You proceed to make your best impression of her sex face by crossing your eyes and hanging your tongue out of the corner of your mouth.

 

“Hehe quit it…I don’t look like that!” She bats weakly at you with a fore hoof.

 

You kiss her nose to steal her thunder, she snorts and smirks, “No, you look better than that…you cutie.”

 

“Nooo-mmm not a cute.” She slurs as she playfully avoids further attempts to kiss her nose.

 

She finally lets your land one on her mouth and you relax back into the pillow, fingers clear some yellow hair from her brow.

 

Her eyes linger longingly on yours, “You make funny faces too heheh, kinda like you got an ice cream headache or something.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Yeah, I kinda like ‘em.”

 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

 

She looks like she wasn’t expecting that question, “Cuz I…I don’t know. It’s just fun to make you…f-feel that.” She gulps and scratches her chest nervously.

 

“You know what?” She peeks up at you and perks an ear, “I think I’m not the only one who reads romance novels.”

 

“Anooon!” She blushes and tries to hit your shoulder but she couldn’t bring herself to violence against you even if it was just play. Her shaky hoof looks like its fighting her and eventually rests gently on your arm, “I don’t read mushy books.” She pouts.

 

You take hold of her hoof and kiss it, “I know. That’s what makes it all the more special because it came from here.” You poke her chest and she looks innocently at you for a moment until she gets it.

 

Her eyes widen and her ears fold submissively. Her upper lip quakes a she starts to tear up; you pull her into a hug—hiding her face in your neck so she didn’t have to ‘injure’ her reputation any further.

 

You hold onto each other, intimately intertwined while she sheds silent tears of joy, “And for the record you are a cute.”

 

She clings tightly to you for a few tender minutes, taking solace in the beating of your heart and the warmth of your skin. It was satisfaction enough just to feel each other alive. She felt more comfortable knowing you couldn’t see her tears, even if was obvious what was happening.

 

Birds continue to chirp and your lungs take long, relaxed draws from the sweet, musty air. Finally Dash feels brave enough to leave her hiding spot. Her puffy eyes avoid yours and she sniffles.

 

“Sit tight, I’m going to make us some breakfast.” You leave her with a kiss on the brow; Dash’s feather pendant gets replaced around your neck.

 

“You’re gonna leave?” She asks, her expression heartbroken.

 

You hold her hoof and meet her eye level, “Hey, it’s alright...I’m just headed to the kitchen for a few minutes, promise.”

 

Her eyes shift around and her hind legs kick a bit. She realizes she’s still paralyzed, “Promise?”

 

This is really hard for her, “Of course. I’ll spend the rest of the day with you, never leave your side.”

 

That seems to do the trick and she lets you go; her head follows until you’re out the door.

 

Fresh air sobers you up as you set up the kitchen. The room was bigger than you initially thought, and the attached kitchen was bigger than your own. You knew what you wanted to make, but finding all the ingredients takes some time. Locating the proper cookware takes even longer.

 

Suddenly, you hear a thud in the hallway. A moment later uncoordinated hoof steps grow in pace, “Anon hold on! Wait!” The ruckus starts to sound like a gallop.

 

You freeze where you’re at as the clopping monster hones in on you. A mangey pegasus barrels around the corner but trips up when she sees you. Dash sprawls on the ground as her legs give out—carried across the hardwood floor by her own momentum. After a dozen feet her sticky belly fur drags her to a screeching halt.

 

“Don’t open the fridge!”

 

“Huh?”

 

She makes no effort to move, her legs remain spread-eagle, “Don’t open it!”

 

“But I need to get some milk for the—“

 

“—No! We don’t need it.”

 

“Why?”

 

She looks away trying to mask the truth, “Just. Trust me on this.”

 

The lie doesn’t bother you one bit; you trusted her completely and she’d only say that if it was in your best interest. “If you say so.” You toss your hands up in surrender before walking over and picking her up. She feels like a rag doll, “Let’s get you back to the…” She grips tighter and shoots you a panicked look. Geez, you’d think you were about to return her to an orphanage or something.

 

The ludacris thought makes your next breath shallow. You can’t be apart from her right now, “Alright, just keep your tail off the counter.”

 

Her muscles relax and smiles contently, “Heh, I’ll try.”

 

You finish making breakfast with the pegasus clinging to your chest. She wasn’t as light as she seemed after ten minutes standing, but it was welcome exercise.

 

The meal was a bit bland without any of the fresh goods you planned to serve, but seeing as how Dash tensed up every time you walked past the refrigerator you figure the trade off is worth it. She sat on your lap the whole time and made up for it with witty conversation.

 

You finish and head straight for the bathroom for a shower. After last night you feared Dash would leave puddles everywhere she sat but luckily that wasn’t the case.

 

The walk-in shower was in a corner surrounded by glass. There wasn’t much privacy, but there wasn’t much needed. Water streamed from an overhead faucet and got warm almost instantly. The whole setup was just one more thing that made the luxury accomodation live up to its name.

 

After setting the wobbly mare down on the bench, you dispense some shampoo and start working it into her mane. She leans into your chest as hot water cascades across your well-acquainted bodies. A soft coo escapes her throat as you work your fingers to the base of her scalp.

 

You take your time giving her a relaxing massage before you cover her eyes and rinse her out. Then, you move on to the rest of her.

 

It is fur so do you use shampoo? Or just body soap? You figure the shampoo smells better so you go with that. You start lathering her up, starting with the thick fur jutting from her breastbone.

 

The entire process takes over ten minutes. You never anticipated her fur being so labor intensive, but it seemed to suck up soap just as fast as you could work it in. Certain patches of fur that had gotten caught in the crossfire were essentially glued together and required twice the effort to clean.

 

Finally, you carry her over to the spray and rinse her clean.

 

She was being surprisingly cooperative throughout the process so you pause to reward her with a kiss, then you move to her tail—the last and messiest part of her.

 

A once over with shampoo does nothing to break up the clumps of jizzed-together hairs so you fish a back brush from the corner and pull her tail taunt to scrub it out. Even that takes a few minutes to accomplish.

 

This has probably been the longest shower of Dash’s life, and she hasn’t complained once.

 

She holds onto your neck as you reach for the soap dispenser again, “Aww come on I’m

clean enough already!”

 

“This is for me, Dash.” She was technically done already so that doesn’t count.

 

“Oh...well let me do it.”

 

“...Ok.”

 

“What? It’s easier that way doofus.”

 

For the next ten minutes Dash mirrors her treatment on you. Hooves weren’t as great with hair as hands were, but she’d be damned if she didn’t give you the best scalp massage a pony could muster.

 

She takes her time on your body, smirking up at you only when she works some soap around below the belt.

 

Finally, you rinse off and join your partner for a warm shower cuddle, after all, you had to get your money’s worth out of the water bill.

 

The pegasus takes two full towels to dry off and you take one; you still leave the room dryer than her.

 

From there you finish up some chores that needed to be done. Dash crawls around on the bed and untucks sheets while you finish putting your things up. Still, you avoid prying in Rainbow’s suitcase, preferring to drag it to the other side of the closet.

 

You finish hanging some things before heading back to the bedroom. There you find Dash perched on the bare mattress with a guilty expression on her face. She’s in the process of piling up some uprooted sheets.

 

“Ready for some clean ones?” You ask as you scoop up the dirty pile for the washer.

 

“Wait!” She tugs a sheet down but loses her grip.

 

Movement reveals a three foot wide damp stain the pile had been concealing. Dash goes red when you pause.

 

She scratches her foreleg, “A-are we gonna get in trouble?”

 

The sheer volume needed to create a puddle that wide on a permeable surface was completely unrealistic, yet there it was, evidence, plain as day. “No, I’m sure it’ll uh...no, we’ll be fine.” You scratch the back of your head. Geez Dash.

 

You help her replace fresh sheets without further comment and before you know it it’s ten AM and you’re done with all your work for the day.

 

You collapse on the bed and fish for the note you left on your nightstand. Dash sits next to you—towering over you as you read.

 

Hello: Welcome to The Star Springs Mountain Getaway. Proudly owned by Luxury Accommodations, we hope you have a pleasant stay. Here are listed some rules of conduct, please abide by them at all times.

 

Keep windows/doors shut when not in use.

Supervise use of cookware and facilities.

Do not change heater settings, activate a fireplace if you would like more heat.

Do not move furniture.

Do not abuse furniture.

Do not tamper with janitor rooms or equipment.

Do not attach things to fans.

Place trash in approved trash bins to avoid run-ins with dangerous wildlife.

Hike on marked trails only and avoid signs that warn no entry.

Please do not rummage through employee facilities.

 

Following these rules with ensure a more satisfying stay with us, we thank you for your understanding and cooperation. If you have any additional questions you can contact our support technician, Curry Hotpot; his contact info is located on the telegramaphone in the lobby.

 

Additionally, we would like to inform you that you will be joined by a couple on Wednesday the 21st. They are platinum members who insisted on booking this week. We apologize for any inconveniences this may cause.

 

Sincerely, The Management

 

“Hey Dash it says here that there’s some more ponies coming this week.”

 

 

The mare had since gotten bored and layed down at the foot of the bed to play with your toes, but upon hearing the news she jerks, “What!”

 

“Yeah, some couple that ‘insisted on booking this week because they’re platinum members.’” You recant in a posh Canterlot accent.

 

“Why those...grrrrr! They said we had the whole thing to ourselves!” She fumes with her hooves around your foot—still fiddling with your toes. What’s so interesting about your digits?

 

You wiggle them against her frog to snag her attention, “Hey, it’s alright. I’m sure they’ll want space too. They’ll probably stay at the opposite end of the building.”

 

She sighs, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Her head thumps on the mattress, “But that means we can’t do the twenty rooms a day challenge.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Oh it’s nothing, just some stupid thing Fleet told me about. You gotta go around and rut in twenty different rooms each day and you win...or something.” She waves her hoof dramatically for emphasis.

 

Only twenty rooms per day? Only twenty rooms...what did you get yourself into? “Well, does it count if you do it twenty times in one room?”

 

Her eyes squint at the ceiling in concentration as she lays back down to pull your foot into her furry side, “Hmmm...nah it’s gotta be different rooms. It totally wouldn’t be that hard and it’d take like, three hours tops.”

 

You take a deep breath, “Dash, that’s kinda tough. You saw what last night did to you.”

 

“Pffft! That was longer and besides, I’m already feeling better. Just give me another hour and I’ll be able to go until dinner.”

 

You stare blankly at her as she stares at her hoof tracing your foot. After a few incredulous seconds she cracks a smirk and glances at you, “I’m kidding you oaf!”

 

Your laugh sounds more nervous than you intended, but either way you’re somewhat relieved...you’re not sure the general downstairs can handle another campaign at the moment.

 

“Obviously we’d have to break for lunch.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Oh I know! We should go look through all the employee rooms and learn their secrets!”

 

You check the note again, “It says not to.”

 

Her smile grows..

 

 

 

Other than deliberately breaking the rules for several hours the rest of the day goes by uneventfully. You’d given her a piggyback ride the whole morning until she could walk, and now she was showing her gratitude by giving you a back massage as you lounge in your room digesting a late lunch.

 

“I had no idea this place was so big.” Dash quips.

 

“That’s why I don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about with the other ponies staying. We probably won’t even see them.”

 

“I know but it just won’t feel the same.”

 

“You mean now we’ll have to double check before rutting somewhere.”

 

“Heheh, yeah.”

 

Her hooves dig in between your shoulder blades, “Ahh perfect.”

 

“Right here?” She clarifies with a hoof.

 

You nod and focuses her attention on the area, “That Wonderbolt’s poster in the rec room was pretty cool, you’re like their photo girl now.”

 

“Yeah it is pretty awesome. It’s kinda annoying that they always pull me out of training to take pictures and stuff; I don’t know why they always pick on me Fire Streak’s the show off.”

 

You know why. “Do they make you put on make up?” You jibe.

 

“Ha! They try but the most they can make me wear is that blue lip paint.”

 

“Lipstick?”

 

“Whatever. Besides, it so ridiculous! We’re supposed to be Equestria’s best who fly straight into danger. How are we supposed to do that if we spend an hour in front of the mirror making ourselves look like clowns!”

 

“Well I see you have a strong opinion on this.”

 

“It’s just dumb I can’t believe stallions like that.”

 

“I like your face fuzzy and pretty. Makeup would just ruin that.” She stays silent, “Though I have to admit the lipstick on the note you wrote was kinda nice.”

 

“You liked that?”

 

“Yeah, I mean for the memento’s sake.”

 

She continues massaging out your back in silence. Her hooves weren’t as bad as you first anticipated. The edges felt great pushing up your neck and shoulders, and she brought out her soft frogs for more painful knots. She finishes and sits back in the small of your back.

 

“What do you think about hitting one of the other pools?”

 

“I think we should take a nap after getting like three hours of sleep last night.”

 

“What? How can you be tired?”

 

“Uhh…is that a serious question?”

 

Dash just stares at you. Obviously it is, “Alright fine let me find my trunks.”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

She shakes her head, “No clothes.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Cuz it’s vacation! You’re always saying you wear them because you feel uncomfortable around other ponies, but now there’s no other ponies.”

 

She’s got you there, “They’re also for warmth, like fur.”

 

“You have fur.” She plucks at a leg hair to be annoying.

 

“Ow!”

 

“And if you’re still complaining later I’ve got plenty of room under my wings.”

 

“But—

 

“—Come on let’s go!”

 

The walk to the pool was cold but Dash allowed you to bring a towel so that helped a bit. She’d recovered most motor function though she still looked like she was walking on coals. She picks a deeper pool and hops in.

 

You take a minute to adjust as she paddles around amusing herself. Suddenly, a spray of water slaps you from across the way.

 

“What the heck?” You turn around to see Dash sunk up to her eyes with here ears honed in on you. You see her eyes squint before she surfaces enough to spit out another mouthful of water. You dodge this time, “Ponies have probably peed in this water you know.”

 

Her eyes drift to the water just long enough for you to splash some her way, “Hey!”

 

Her hoof raises to return the splash but you submerge to safety. You swim over to her and tangle in an underwater wrestling match; you find a ticklish spot and she expels all the air from her lungs in laughter, a second later she rockets to the surface to cough.

 

You surface with her and pat her back. She looks at you accusingly, “What? You started it.” A hoof full of water splashes you from point blank, “Ok I deserved that.”

 

With justice dealt, Dash relaxes on a submerged ledge and you lay back next to her.

 

“We always used to stretch in sauna after a rough show.” Dash explains as she stretches out her leg along the shelf beside you.

 

Your hands fight her hooves for a bit as you take over massaging her leg, “I always thought those things were refreshing.”

 

“Ahhh…” she sighs, “...yeah. Hey I think this place has one!”

 

“Really?”

 

She cranes her head around, “Yeah right over there!”

 

You follow her hoof, “Oh sure enough. Do you think it’s working?”

 

“It should be. All their other resorts have one somewhere so I figured this place would have one too.”

 

 

“That’s some pretty average figuring, you’d make a pretty average detective.”

 

The smart ass comment gets you splashed in the face, but you keep massaging her leg. You were no expert but you were experienced; not to mention just about anything you did felt amazing to the pegasus simply because you had hands instead of hooves, “If you want me to go easier let me know.”

 

“Ngah it’s good.” She grunts.

 

You didn’t think you were going too hard, but her reaction said otherwise, “Don’t you have a masseuse for your team?”

 

“Well, sorta. The physical therapist takes appointments but if I’m sore I usually just go workout again to flush out the lactic acid.”

 

That’s hardcore. She grits her teeth again as you knead your way up her thigh, “You should probably think about booking with the therapist.”

 

“The rest of the team does, its just…”

 

“Just what?”

 

She peeks at you, “They get all touchy with their hooves.”

 

“Haha! That’s their job!”

 

“I know it’s just that I don’t feel comfortable with it.”

 

You nod, “Well, you’ve got your own masseuse here if you ever need one.” You pick up her leg and pull it farther up your lap to massage its backside, “I’ll give you a discount too.”

 

She cracks a smirk, “You mean I have to pay you?”

 

“Of course.” You suppress your reactionary smile.

 

“How much are you going to charge me?” She teases.

 

“Hmm, I’d imagine my hands would make me more marketable. I’d say at least three and a half kisses per minute, for starters.”

 

Dash launches into you and fills your vision with her muzzle. Her kiss is modest but not reserved. The sticky texture of her warm lips tells you she's licked them in preparation, and it tickles a bit as they peel away. You meet her eyes just in time for the second smooch, and hold her gaze for the third, fourth, fifth, all the way until she’d finished twenty or so kisses of varying length. You end much closer than you started—your chests rest against each other and her forelegs hang around your waist.

 

“Do you accept down payments?”

 

“S-sure.”

 

The mare snickers at your stutter, “Well come on I paid for some massages.”

 

“You know I’m not a vending machine that dishes out wingrubs and bellyrubs and...other rubs for kisses.” Despite your words you resume massaging her strong leg.

 

Her hoof hooks around the back of your head and mashes your lips into hers. Your heart skips a beat from the sensation of her pointed muzzle so affectionately nibbling on your mouth. She pulls away with an exaggerated smack and licks her lips with a grin, “Sure Anon, keep telling yourself that.”

 

Dash flips herself around in your grasp, settling her gorgeous yet probably quite tender butt into your lap and laying back against you, wings opened lazily floating around on the soothing water.

 

Your hands find their way to her sides and waste no time climbing up and down her perfect lithe frame, listening to her coo contently as you work out the soreness, numbness and rubberbandiness of her limbs when you venture along them.

 

Her head comes to rest under your chin and you can help but angle your nose down into it. Cheeks framed on either side by adorable fluffy blue ears; you get to work massaging her forelegs with nimble hands. They start in her leg pits and squeeze their way down to her petite hooves. You can’t help but give the tender frogs a little tickle before starting over. Dash snorts and pushes harder into your chest, her head arches back to ask for more attention and you playfully nibble on her ear.

 

“Heheh.” She pulls away once you’ve got it snugly between your teeth, enjoying the sensation of the lite bite stretching out her surprisingly sensitive cartilage. You let her go but she immediately leans back in to perk her ear against your lips, when you don’t take the bait she leans back further to press her objective. You take the bait.

 

It was a bit weird but it didn’t taste bad so you accept the fuzzy donation and softly knaw on the root of her flexed fold. You hear a quiet grunt so you do it again before abating. For all the fur she had you were surprised how little of it fell out; in all your ventures you could count the errant hairs that got on your tongue on one hand. She said it’d get worse during molting, but for now she almost seemed hypoallergenic.

 

Her damp ear flicks against your cheek as she silently asks for more nibbles, you entertain her request by moving to the neglected ear and teasing at its base. Your nose pushes into her scalp as your lips dig into the crevice you normally scratch with your finger. It earns the usual huffs and grunts from her, but only when you bite her fur and gently tug does she physically shift into the sensation.

 

The tranquilizing petrichor of her wet mane fills your senses as you take deep breaths against her hot fur. You swirl your tongue around the area you just nibbled on before moving farther up the base of her ear. Her hair was a bit longer there as it was near her hoof ends and leg pits, and it made it easier to exercise the dormant nerves just underneath the surface of her skin. You take your time enjoying the task and when you’re finished you stop where you’re at to knead her muscular breast.

 

“Anon can you…” She flicks her spoiled ear into your cheek with an audible thwack. You get the message and start nibbling on it like you did her other. This time your focus shifts to massaging the thick juts of muscle on either side of her sternum, her ear disappears inch by inch as you cock your head to chew on it with your molars.

 

The pegasus lays sprawled out in a tangled mess made possible only through the gravity-negating effects of the water. You feel a bit of movement and peek over her brow to see her hind leg kicking weakly. You pull her tighter to your chest a continue your gentle ministrations; she must’ve felt your smile around her scalp because she pipes up, “Don’t even think about saying it.” She mutters amid a plethora of soothing sensations.

 

You spit out her ear and smack your dry mouth, “Say what?”

 

 

“That I’m cute, or whatever.”

 

For some reason the snarky Dash-ism snaps you out of your haze and hits you with a ton of emotions. You press your cheek into her head and nuzzle into her matted ear crevice, “I wasn’t going to say that.” You whisper as you hug her tighter.

 

She catches her breath to keep her lungs from collapsing and throws her head back in protest of her interrupted attention. You relent and she exhales, she grinds her limp ear against your face, “Can you do that t-thing again with this one, right there—”

 

“—I love you Rainbow Dash.”

 

She pauses first, then peeks at you. Her forelegs protrude limply above your bear hug grasp. You crane your head over to meet her gaze better, and when you do so she tucks her ears.

 

“I love everything about you, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to snag you when I did.”

 

Now she blushes. Her eyes remain wide but don’t break contact, “I—*ahem!” Her voice cracks hard and she clears her throat. She takes the opportunity to reword her response, “M-me too!” She clears her throat again.

 

Despite being quite the showpony she wasn’t the smoothest romantic when put on the spot, but that made the confession all the more genuine and heart warming. You hum contently and nuzzle into the side of her face, “I know you love yourself too.”

 

She’s at a loss amidst the aggressive snuggling but slowly starts to gather her thoughts, “Anon, you idiot!” You interrupt her by pressing a kiss into her ear opening, making her twitch violently from the ticklish sensation, “That’s not what I meant!”

 

You nibble further into her ear hole for fun, her wings splash as she writhes away from the unbearably annoying feeling, “Oh? What did you mean?”

 

 

“Nice try Anon, you heard me the first time!”

 

“Maybe, but I want to hear it again.”

 

 

“Well...ngh! Too bad!” She wiggles away from more ticklish ear kisses.

 

You hold on tight, “Am I going to have to rut you until you wet the sheets again to get you to say it?”

 

“That’s not…” she bites her tongue but it’s too late.

 

“It’s not what? Were you going to say that didn’t happen? Because I can prove it to you, right here if you want—”

 

“—Nooo!” She smiles and tries to escape your ticklish fingers in her belly, “I was going to say that’s not how it works” She blurts. You stop teasing her and hold her where you can look into her eyes, “You have to wait for the right moment dummy.”

 

“Is that your romantic intuition is telling you?”

 

She blushes, “That’s just what...it’s just how it is.”

 

You smile, “Well when the next right moment comes up I’m holding you accountable.”

 

She squirms and giggles when you poke her chest. Finally content, you relax against the poolside and resume treating your pony’s overworked muscles. You rest your chin on her head as you move onto her neck and withers. Your legs wrap around hers—a gesture that sates your subconscious need to shelter the one you love more than anything.

 

“Hey Anon?” Dash asks.

 

“Hmm?

 

 

You feel her gulp and she takes a moment to respond, “Would you ever maybe sometime want to possibly uhh…have a foal?”

 

For a moment the only thing that fills your mind is the sound of gently rippling water and the strange feeling of Dash’s coarser tail hairs floating across your leg. Did she just…

 

Dash faces forward with her ears tucked, remaining completely limp against you as she anxiously tries to gauge your reaction.

 

Dash wants to have a kid...with you? The pegasus on your chest had just opened herself up to a whole new level of commitment and you were at a loss on how to respond. Commitment was nothing new to her, she was committed to her friends, to the Wonderbolts, to you. But this on another level entirely. The flood of emotions running through you are almost indecipherable.

 

“I-if not then that’s cool too, I-I was just wondering—”

 

 

“—Yes!”

 

Her nervousness turn to excitement and she spins around, “You do?”

 

You look deep into her magenta eyes, “Rainbow, I would love for you to be the mother of my children.”

 

Her ears stare at you just as much as her eyes do. You can almost see her heart well up in her throat from excitement. Why is this so exciting? You never thought of being a parent as exciting!

 

“I-I mean, of course we’d have to get a new house and learn how to cook and, and I’d have to take some time off active status—”

 

“—Is that something that you’d want to do...with me, I mean?”

 

“Yeah! Of course! You’d make an awesome father!”

 

She’s so confident in her response she manages to flatten your insecurities before they could form. An ear to ear grin grows on your face.

 

Dash’s smile grows to match yours. You never gave it much thought before now but you could start a family with her. You could start a family with Rainbow Dash. An elated laugh escapes your lungs.

 

No thought you could form could quantify the gratitude you feel towards her. This pegasus befriended you when you were alone and afraid, she stuck up for you like one of her own, she taught you how to laugh and love, she’d led you to see this place as your home...and now she was offering you a stake in it. A family.

 

You squeeze your mare close, cradling her head with utmost care and affection like she was the most precious thing in all of creation.

 

Because she is.

 

It was a bit surreal how far you’d come with your best friend, but at the same time it felt so right. You’d known your friendship was unique even in its infancy, and the progression towards romance was so easy and natural that in hindsight it was difficult to tell when you first began to openly love each other. And now, she’d given you further proof of the undying loyalty she’d confessed to you by the lakeside that night.

 

You can’t talk so you let the beat of your heart do it for you.

 

You both sit there for a minute as you slowly massage her neck; the soreness wasn’t a concern so much as the need to feel her and just know that she’s real.

 

You distinctly remember thinking a few weeks ago that there was no way you could feel more attached to her than you already did. You’d thought that several times in fact, and each time you were proven wrong.

 

As your adrenaline slows you get to think in greater detail, “I’d like to get settled into my job.”

 

“Yeah of course! I mean, I don’t think I’m ready now.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Maybe in a while like after I get promoted a bit more. But I do want to, for sure.” Her tone is unwavering.

 

She stares at you until you smile, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just never really saw you being interested in something like this. That’s not to say I’m surprised or anything I mean you’d make a great mom.”

 

“Heh, it’s ok dude. I get what you’re saying I mean, you’re the first pony I’ve really talked to about this...except my mom.” She adds, “Honestly I never really thought I wanted a foal either, I’ve always just wanted to be a Wonderbolt. But now that I am one…”

 

“...The best one.” You add

 

She smirks, “Heheh, now that I’m the awesomest Wonderbolt I guess I realized that there’s more to life than that.”

 

“That’s deep.”

 

She smacks your shoulder, “I guess I’m just saying that I never gave it much thought because I didn’t have a reason to.” Her hoof traces your chest, “I know it sounds weird but I started thinking about after I showed you that trick by the lake.”

 

You quirk a brow, “Really? What part of the wingjob told you I would make a good father?”

 

She blushes a bit, “No! It wasn’t that!”

 

You throw your hands up in defense before resuming her massage.

 

“Though it was a pretty good wingjob...” She snaps out of her daydream, “After that, you know, after Zephyr. I kept thinking about how you stood up for me and how we kinda make a good team.”

 

She grunts as you knead her neck, delicately massaging up her spine to her scalp, “Yeah, I guess we kinda get along.”

 

“Heheh, just a bit.” You kiss her ear for emphasis, “It kinda surprised me when I started having dreams about us...together. It wasn’t long after that I started thinking about what a family would be like.”

 

“Wow.” She really scoped you out.

 

“I-I mean it wasn’t like I was dreaming about breeding you against the wall while you rubbed my wings...or anything.”

 

“Of course. I’m sure you had modest dreams.”

 

She gulps and nods, “But uhh...it was more like I felt open to being a mom after knowing you.”

 

“As long as we don’t go making any half pony half human things I think we should be good.”

 

 

She leans into your scratching finger, “Aw come on you’re not that ugly.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Hahaha!”

 

“But in all seriousness I’m all for them inheriting your looks.”

 

Dash boops your nose, “Well, you’re nose is alright and your teeth are pretty cool.” She finishes by wiggling the edge of her hoof between your lips to pry at your canines.

 

*pffft!

 

“Well I’m glad I have some redeeming qualities.”

 

Dash pushes her muzzle into your lips for a short kiss just to make sure you know she’s only teasing, “Our foal’s gonna be so awesome!”

 

You return the kiss, “Of course it’s going to be when you’re its mom.”

 

She tucks her ears and nuzzles your arm. Hands work down to massage the side of her face, “Jhus ghotta figur ouh how.” She manages with her cheeks smushed.

 

You work around her face to rub on the top of her muzzle, “I’m sure there’s some magical something or other that will make me compatible.”

 

“I know other couples have done it, I just never really wanted to know how.”

 

“My guess is a doctor puts a spell on my dick or something.”

 

“Or maybe you take a pill and rut me for like...days.”

 

“That sounds preferable.” The sensation of magic varied, but all of it felt pretty uncomfortable to you.

 

“Heheh, I hope it's that one.”

 

“Didn’t royalty used to marry to other races for treaties and stuff? Twilight might know something about it.”

 

“Eh, I’m pretty sure they cheated and used a donor which is not gonna happen.” The thought of it alone makes her squirm uncomfortably and she grips you tighter as her eyes dart around in the ensuing silence.

 

You lend some of your own strength to the squeeze, “Yeah.”

 

The cloud cover had descended and a light dusting of snow wafts silently across the landscape. You rely more on each other for warmth than you do the water.

 

“Dash, what if that’s the only way to do it?” She shifts to give you a perplexed look, “I mean, what if there’s no pill or spell or something? I am the only one of my kind you know.”

 

“What are you talking about dude?”

 

 

You sigh, “I just don’t know if I’m too different from you.”

 

She pauses to lend some serious thought to her response. Her eyes read your expression with the utmost care, even if her mind was made up she still had to console you, “Anon, listen. I’m not with you because I want to have foals, I’m with you because of you and your differences.” Her gaze falters but never fails, “I know foals are important to a lot of mares, but...I would’ve never even considered having one if it weren’t for you.” Her hoof hooks your neck; her expression is nothing but earnest, her voice is nothing but sure, “If we never have foals I’ll still be happy because you’re more than I can ask for already.”

 

Being the only human you know you’d come to consider yourself the definition of a man. From your toilet seat habits to your average, but improving build, you were a tough, independent and resourceful being. But right now, you realize how much of your self-image is a facade.

 

The colorful pegasus squeezing you tight, reassuring you, loving you, was what made you everything you considered yourself to be and more. You needed her more than you sometimes let on. A simple look had the power to break your heart or make it soar. Her playful banter could lighten up your day better than any weather manipulation, and her displays of loyalty and dedication made lasting impressions that would stick with you for the rest of your life.

 

A lone tear escapes the corner of your eye, adding insult to injury. You don’t know why that happened, you’re definitely not crying, you’re not even sad for pete’s sake!

 

Another one streams down your opposite cheek and you sniffle. Don’t do this in front of Dash!

 

But she doesn’t think any less of you, she doesn’t even look surprised. Her pretty face offers you a soft, supportive smile as she wipes away your tears with a forehoof. It all suddenly becomes crystal clear; she’s seen through every act you’ve put on, every blank expression during tough times and all the homesickness masked with a fake smile. She knows all your weaknesses, she knows who you are...and she loves you.

 

She pulls your head into her wet chest and soothes you with her heartbeat. Tears disappear into her coat as you squeeze her like the last buoey afloat in the whole ocean. You feel like you should be embarrassed for being being unable to hold your dominant role in the relationship, but you aren’t. There is no one around to judge you, only Dash, and you know your secret is safe with her. You trust her completely knowing she would never hold this against you or emasculate you in any way.

 

In a sense it felt liberating—thrilling almost, to be completely at the mercy of the one you love. You submit to the caressing of a creature half your size until the tears of joy subside, and even then you lay against her soft chest relishing the feeling of security she exudes.

 

“Besides, there’s no way I’m letting anypony else's gross jizz anywhere near me.”

 

The mood lightening comment does its job. You snort, “You didn’t seem to think it was gross last night?”

 

She doesn’t bat an eye though she blushes severely, “That’s because it’s coming from you.” Her free hoof pokes your shoulder for emphasis.

 

You finally pull away and wipe your eyes.That’s one way to put you on the top of the world. ”Heh, uh…” you look to the water, unable to form words.

 

Dash’s smile grows as she thinks of another way to boost your esteem, “You know, no other mare can feel as good as me during heat even if they do have a stallion.”

 

Your perplexed look prompts her further. Her hooves wander without restraint, cyan lips linger dangerously close to yours.

 

A nervous gulp pierces the silence as Dash’s eyes pierce yours, “Most mares hate heat because they have to be careful not to get pregnant.” Her muzzle leans closer to your ear, “But I get to feel what they don’t because I have you.” You can feel her bare crotch on yours; her hooves hold her chest close, her tongue teases your earlobe, “You can actually give me relief because I get to feel you cum...inside.”

 

 

 

“Ahaaaaaagh!”

 

Dash’s petite frame rocks against the edge of the bed as you thrust deep into her swollen pussy from behind. Your hands massage her cutie marks and squeeze her butt cheeks together—giving you both a boost of pleasure.

 

“Gaaaaah-Anon!”

 

Trembling forehooves clutch the bedsheets and her hanging hind hooves curl from the stimulation. In the half a day since you’d last fornicated, Dash had gotten extremely pent up; so much so that the only apparent effect last night’s rutting had on her was to wet her appetite.

 

Boisterous, wet slapping gives her an audible hint to the magnitude of the mess you’re helping her make. Her two orgasms thus far had been dry, though only in the loosest sense. With each pull from her depths you withdraw a teaspoon worth of hot juice behind your crown; some of it runs down your busy shaft and spreads out to make stringy connections between your crotch and hers, the rest falls victim to gravity—tiny, glistening droplets lowered to the ground on thin ropes. About the only thing she wasn’t doing was actively spraying you with mare cum.

 

“Don’t slow dow-*slap-ah!”

 

You pick up your pace before she can finish her sentence. It wasn’t that you were getting tired, it was just becoming difficult to get a good grip on her once he started to sweat. You pause to hook the hot crevices of her thighs before hilting hard to make up for the unwanted interruption. The movement refreshes the air with the musty reminder that she was incredibly turned on...just in case you couldn’t tell.

 

Both instinct and your partner’s body language urge you not to pull out; you lean your weight into her protruded rump and pin it against the edge of the bed. Short upward tugging motions stretch out the dense nerves of her canal entrance and force her dock to curl even harder and flicker her clitoris to tickle your testes.

 

Your regrowing pubes find themselves in the perfect position to gently scratch her bare skin above the main event. Luckily they were long enough, and wet enough, that they weren’t prickly; they both created and eradicated an itch in an area she’d otherwise have a hard time getting to on her own.

 

“Yeah! Yes yes yes right there!”

 

 

A bit of drool escapes her mouth as she winces in pleasure; you feel her plothole flare in your bush and you keep grinding into her. Your feet slide on the carpet, unable to push any harder into your lover’s needy hole.

 

“Oh Dash you’re so good!”

 

Her wings try to flap but only succeed in swatting the sheets against her muscle tension. Your hips pull back for a quick thrust before you even register the urge to do so. In the brief glimpse of her naked nethers you notice a touch of cherry red in a spot you’d never seen it before. Thinking about it swerves the ride dangerously close to the edge of the track so you do your best to focus elsewhere.

 

Her back, watch her back. You keep your pace and gaze over the taunt musculature of her withers and wings. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t helping. Dash’s wings were something you’d always found attractive in a way; but after being a witness to their tenderness and role in pegasi sexuality they’d become extremely alluring and could easily arouse you when put on display. They were also very responsive to what you were doing between her legs which made it even harder to keep your cool.

 

You have to slow down for the greater good despite the rush in your loin and hers screaming at you to speed up. Dash starts clenching the moment you slow; she arches her back and curls her rump up to wink into your underside—a subconscious ploy to refresh your libido. You rest your hands on her lower back and draw a deep breath.

 

Dash looks back to check on you, an encouragement on the tip of her tongue, but once she realizes you’re trying to hold out she opts to remain silent.

 

She’s not completely without entertainment though; gentle bobs into her impossibly slick hole remind her that she’s still in intimate contact. Just maybe not to the extent that she—

 

—*smack!

 

“Gah!” ...wanted.

 

In an act of protest she throws her hips rearward again, but this time you’re too shallow to bottom out and she lets out a desperate sigh.

 

You could still use a bit of time to recover but her short patience wasn’t going to let that happen. You decide to supplement what you can by tending to her dock. Your off hand grabs the muscly nub and you reach into her cavern with your thumb. Only, you don’t find her cavern; a fateful miscalculation plants your pad squarely in the center of her soon-to-be clenching plothole.

 

“Eeeep!”

 

The startled mare jolts and you yank your hand away, “Sorry!” You’d never defined anything as ‘off-limits’ before, but she’d always been a bit shy about her butthole. It took two weeks for her to stop trying to hide it behind her tail when she presented to you. Even then, any hint that you were gazing at the defined sphincter above her more easily shared genital region earned the harshest of blushes.

 

Last night’s bout of cunnilingus had been a milestone for her, but this misstep threatened to undo all the work you’d done.

 

You don’t expect a response from her and you return to the safety of her lower back.

 

She stops trying to hump into you, “You can t-touch it, if you want.”

 

The comment catches you off guard, “Sorry I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”

 

“I know…”

 

Well ok then. Her breathing remains heavy and she doesn’t turn to look at you until you move. Her dock stays out of the way as you grasp it like before; the naked tan donut clenches once as you target it with your thumb.

 

This time she doesn’t jolt as you come to rest in the wrinkled center. It’s so soft. Her bare skin was incredibly smooth and squishy above her firm, taut muscle. You start to circle the warm flesh and in no time work your way down to edges of her red innards.

 

You glance up and her eyes dart away from your face, but return to you as you face away again. Her muzzle was beat red and sweating profusely but her ears were trying to perk and she was giving you that look. She was waiting for you to signify your acceptance of her naked display. You knew that she knew you had nothing but a rabid appetite for anything under her tail, but biology or some deeply ingrained cultural norm forced the rite.

 

You respond the only way that seems appropriate and give her a short thrust while continuing to circle her. She remains limp, her expression appreciative but still looking for an missing queue. What now? You can’t say anything it would just sound weird. An alternative presents itself; that’s worked before, it should work with this.

 

You briefly meet her eyes which don’t look away this time, then, you pull out and take a knee. Her messy rump is now even with your face; the air is cold on your shaft and a string of natural sex lube survives the three foot arc from her clitoris to your penis.

 

Keeping her dock out of the way, you pucker up and plant a short kiss squarely on her protruding anus. It feels like it’s kissing back. She clenches and you break—returning to your position in a flash.

 

Your hands return to her rump as you slowly ease back into her without any guide other than your throbbing stiffness. A quick glance reveals a relieved pegasus with tucked ears. There was probably another way to do that...but that was fun.

 

You make one last effort to tease her by slowing your penetration, but you make up for it by resuming your thrusting pace the moment you hilt.

 

“Oooh!”

 

This time you massage her butthole without any reservations, the action adds more stimulant to the mix. Feeling you on such a sensitive part of her, a part that she considered to be dirty despite how clean she was, required a lot of trust and certain understanding of how comfortable you were willing to be with each other.

 

So far, that understanding conveyed an as of yet unlimited acceptance of each other’s bodies.

 

Dash continues to squeal and grunt and you suddenly realize you’re doing her a disservice. Your thumb dives south to pull on the top corner of her slathered crevice. It collects some lube before returning to tend to her hole with the slick substance. You spread her own product on her anus and circle a bit harder as fall back into rhythm.

 

You can’t help but stare. The sight of her naked orifice being massaged with her own lubricant sends your heart racing as does the realization that she’s enjoying the incredibly intimate ways you’re touching her.

 

It was weird in a way. Her plothole had been right there the whole time; it was difficult to hide it. She did what she could to preserve her modesty but at some point she had to trust you not to indulge...which you didn’t.

 

Until now.

 

“Ha-uh!” She loses her breath from a particularly hard thrust. Your thighs are warmed by her fur as you push deep into her. The ministrations on her butthole are starting to make noise as you get a bit bolder with your rubbing. The slowly drying skin gets slick again as you make contact with her sheltered, cherry-red flesh.

 

“P-pull my tail!”

 

You don’t think twice about the request and pull yourself as deep as you can go by the root of her dock. The sensation causes her anus to flare and your thumb inadvertently slips and buries in her butt up to the knuckle.

 

“Ngaaaah!”

 

Clear mare cum explodes past your tangling testicles and hits what sure as hell sounds like the opposite wall. It happens so fast you only feel her clenched abs and glutes that made the feat possible in retrospect. You realize why your thumb feels extra warm and attempt to remove it only to be arrested by an extraordinarily strong clench.

 

A breathy, gutteral grunt accompanies a steady stream of ejaculate that falls heavy on the floor, impacting several feet behind you and tapering off until it’s but a drizzle between your legs.

 

Her dock shudders, wild strands of her tail dance with the tremors of pleasure. You remember that you’re still inside her and nudge once more. You can feel her walls clench and for the first time you notice the relatively firm siphon of her urethra dilate to release more Dash patented mare jizz. It’s decreased volume barely moves past her entrance and warms your nuts.

 

Just as she takes a breath you draw one in. The world fades away and Dash squeaks as every part of you that’s touching her flexes. Heavy globules of sperm pierce her remaining depths past her squeezed walls. Her legs kick as your hot seed tickles her in places only you could reach. You feel the rest of your remaining load disappear in the dark corners of your mare’s anatomy and bask in the uniquely powerful feeling of accomplishment insemination provided.

 

“Hahaha!-Oh!” She laughs in elation.

 

Rainbow’s belly undulates as she can’t help but work the donation as deep as she can. Her efforts lack experience and control and lead to more than a few drops of semen escaping her body and pattering on the carpet right on top of her previous stain.

 

The high fades and your thumb is still searching for the pot of gold in Rainbow’s ass. You try to express your apology by gently removing it. She moans softly as you do and you pull out of the tight ring with an audible pop. It flexes a few times as if to protest against the disturbance and your palm covers what remains of her dignity in an instinctively protective gesture.

 

Dash looks back with sweaty bangs stuck to her face. Her juices drip from your testicles and run down your leg.

 

You meet her astonished gaze and smile, “Heh…”

 

“Heheheh.” Her chuckle of satisfaction and a wry smile is all she can offer too.

 

Eyes watch each other while your breathing catches up; hers start to go wide and blue ears perk as they notice something behind you.

 

You turn to follow her gaze, still safely hilted in her rump. A dozen clear drops creep down the window pane of big sliding door that led outside...eight feet away.

 

You look back to Dash who’s trying to decide whether to be proud or deny it was her doing. She catches your look and gulps, “It y-your fault…”

 

“Hahahahaha!”

 

 

She looks surprised at first but quickly joins in on the laughter. You both laugh like two idiots still intimately joined. When you manage to get ahold of yourself you find the courage to pull out. Almost instantly your white stuffing rushes to fill the void and fill the crevices around her flexing clit.

 

You leave her to do with it as she pleases and lay down beside her for a long overdue kiss. She pushes the bed away to plant her lips on yours and you pull on each other’s heads to guarantee contact until both of you were satisfied.

 

Her tongue rolls out to meet yours while the musky smells stuck in your nose get replaced by the refreshingly pleasant ones of her breath and saliva. She grunts as she rolls on her back and pulls you on top of her. You pin her to the bed and press into her with an overwhelming desire to display your love.

 

A rehardening shaft lays against a soggy muff as their owners give them a temporary break.

 

This time, you subdue her unruly tongue and press into her mouth. Sweet saliva lubricates your movements while you check on each tooth to make sure they’re all still there. Her wider row of incisors close down to bite your tongue with the lightest of touches. Enamel edges sharper than your own rake across your taste buds to purposefully tickle you. It was obvious a bite from her would hurt and as impossible as the scenario was, the very thought of it made the exploration more fun.

 

You’d never known anyone else to the point that you could trust them absolutely. That’s what made it so exciting to see each other’s behavior when the balance of power was lopsided. When one of you had control you didn’t squander the opportunity to take what you wanted, instead, you made an effort to be extra attentive to each other’s comfort. The dynamic was uniquely endearing to experience and honestly, it’s really cool.

 

You give the pony more of your tongue to safeguard and relax a bit as she welcomes you into her domain. Her slender muscle glazes your own with her pheromone rich saliva, knowing full well how much you relish ner natural taste. Unlike most candy shops there were no rules against overindulgence because she never once stops lapping against you while you pry at the corners of her molars.

 

A little bitterness from lunch’s salad hides in the crevice of her tooth and you note it without a flicker of dismay. It’d been far too long since you’d last played with her teeth so you take your time all the while enjoying the hot exhales blowing your hair out of the way.

 

Her heart thumps heavily against your bare chest and a squeaking smack signifies a short adjustment. You prod into the soft, extra wet area under her tongue and flick past her frenulum a few times.

 

Dash giggles. She’s always liked it when you do that.

 

Before you realized that nothing was preventing you from having sex every day, kissing was your go-to bedroom exercise. That’s when you discovered the ticklish ridge under her tongue. But despite your vast knowledge of her mouth you find you’re discovering something new. That being: her salivary glands were partly responsible for her pheromone production, making spots underneath her tongue incredibly sweet.

 

Dash giggles some more and drops her hooves to the mattress when she realizes she’s not really influencing much. Her tongue stays out of the way so you can stroke it’s underside. The surface of her squishy salivary glands were rich like caramel, but the fresh saliva they released when you prodded them doesn’t seem to carry as much of the flavor. You concentrate your efforts on the two distinctly narrow patches of rich flavor on either side of her tongue frenulum. It was like having dessert but not feeling any fuller from it.

 

Can she taste her own sweetness?

 

Whether she can or not she enjoys the oral union. The exhausted pegasus lays there and lets you indulge in her body for quite a while, interjecting only to swallow or expose the other side of her tongue to get tasted. With so many kinks and so little open conversation about them, you’d both found it easier to just let your partner enjoy themselves when they developed a fixation. Except for when she licks your canines, she’ll scrape herself raw on those if you don’t stop her.

 

You feel like you’re in a candy shop and you could’ve easily kept going had your sense of fairness not intervened. You plant your hands on the mattress and pull off her with a sucking kiss.

 

“*huff...Oh that felt good…” Dash blurts, her eyes fluttering open. She chokes a bit before swallowing and you follow suit. Your mouth tastes like hers.

 

“That tasted...good.” Her sheepish look makes you self-conscious and you clear your throat, “We should start doing that more, like we used to.”

 

She licks her lips and swallows again, “Heh, heck yeah!”

 

Her upturned belly begs to get rubbed so you fill the request. Her wet lips refresh your unexpecting ones with a fresh layer of spit and you playfully nuzzle into her wet mouth. It earns a giggle and gets your nose licked a few times.

 

“I love you you messy little flying pony.”

 

“Heheh.” She squints and nuzzles into your nose boop with a smile, “Love you too you smart human.”

 

You quirk a brow at the compliment and she tucks her muzzle bashfully. A kiss on her head restores her confidence.

 

The clock revels it’s much later than anticipated, “It’s almost nine Dash.”

 

She double checks you, still flat on her back, “Well, you know what they say…”

 

“What?”

 

“Time flies when you’re-heh, when you’re-hahahahaha!”

 

Here comes another joke. Her smiling, glassy eyes do their best to convince you whatever she’s about to say is genuinely funny.

 

“Time flies when you’re launching cum-hahahahahaha!”

 

You just snort and shake your head. Warm fur of her laughing chest provides the perfect resting spot to ride out the most recent iteration of post orgasm bad jokes. She comes up with a new one every week.

 

“Ahahahaha-get it cuz-heheh-cuz it was just like whooosh and, and went everywhere and that’s how heheheheh…”

 

You look up with an amused smirk. As she rambles on Rainbow Dash’s beautiful face glows with the child-like exuberance that let you know she was well cared for. It’s time for her to go to bed.

 

“...because I definitely launched it-heh and then I, I thought cum rhymes with fun even though the-hahaha-they end with different letters.” You nod slowly, still with your amused grin, “Hehehehe...what?!”

 

 

“Nothing. Just looking at you.”

 

“You can’t make me go to bed.” She states defiantly.

 

Dear Celestia she is a handful when she’s feeling good. You pinch her cheek, “You’re not going to bed, we’re going to bed.”

 

“No.”

 

You get up to flick on the fireplace lest you freeze overnight. The semi-paralyzed pegasus reacts violently to your movement and attempts to scramble to her hooves, the only thing she succeeds in doing is getting tangled up in her own tail and tumbling off the bed.

 

You’re instantly there to help her up, “Geez Dash what was that?” The worry is evident in your voice.

 

She looks up unfazed and staggers to her hooves, “I-I’m good, where are we going?”

 

“...To turn on the fireplace.”

 

“Ok.” She answers in a chipper tone.

 

Her apparent attachment is so touching that you can’t bring yourself to correct her. There’s nothing wrong anyways.

 

The faithful, prismatic mare keeps shaky pace with you all the way to the switch and all the way back. When you find yourself back at the side of the bed you look down at her big, innocent magenta eyes. She takes that as her queue to smile.

 

Her tail flicks and a white drop hits the carpet between her hind legs but she doesn’t seem to notice. Well, you were going to have to shampoo the carpet anyways.

 

You match her smile and reach down, “Come on, up you go.” You help her claw her way up the edge of the mattress and crawl in as she pulls the blankets aside.

 

In no time at all the lights are off and you’ve assumed your favorite snuggle position in the clean sheets; your chin rests on her head and her muzzle lays across your neck. You feel her lips move, “Mmm-not sleeping.” She mumbles.

 

“Yes you are.”

 

“No. I’m not tired.”

 

“Then what are you going to do?”

 

“Rut.”

 

“How? I’m going to be asleep.”

 

That gives her pause, “You take breaks.”

 

“From what?”

 

“Sleeping.”

 

“Oh…” Despite her bold claims she was most definitely starting to relax against you. You whisper in her ear, “...You’ve been a busy pony today, maybe you should take just a little nap...just so you’re on your A-game for all the rutting we’ll be doing tomorrow. How does that sound?”

 

Your fingers comb through her mane and massage her scalp. Her breathing starts to get a bit deeper, her limbs grow heavy on you, “...Sss-a dumb idea.” She mutters.

 

You pull the blankets over her wing and fix an uncomfortable snag for her; once tended to, the wing clings to your torso like plastic wrap. Your fingers return to trace long lines down the side of her neck. You breathe into her limp ear, “Shhh...close your eyes, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

 

“Promise.” She asks weakly.

 

You hold her head to your chest, “I promise...no matter how sweaty you get.”

 

“Hmmm…” She hums humorously. A few breaths pass and she whispers one last thing—as quiet as a mouse, “...I adore you, Anon.”

 

Your heart takes off as you catch your breath; she seems to notice because you feel her smile. Tears form in your eyes as you clutch her tightly, you would do anything for this mare.

 

A tacky tongue dabs your neck and she draws it back to carry your taste with her to the dreamworld. Your hands stroke her neck and mane trying as best they could to express your undying gratitude for all she means to you. Minutes pass as you deal with her reducing you to tears for the second time in a day.

 

“I love you with all of my heart.” You finally manage past choking and sniffling.

 

But she’s already asleep. The smile fixed on her face tells you she didn’t need to be awake. She knew exactly what you were going to say.