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/flaremare/ My Little Futa: Bar Hopping

By BlondieAnon
Created: 2022-10-22 04:50:16
Expiry: Never

  1. 1.
  2. 2.
     
  3. 3.
    >"Care ta join me for a wee nip?"
  4. 4.
    >Just ignore her
  5. 5.
    >You're just...
  6. 6.
    >Early
  7. 7.
    >That's all
  8. 8.
    >You weren't stood up
  9. 9.
    >Even if it has been well over an hour
  10. 10.
    >The inside of the bar is near empty, except for a few regulars
  11. 11.
    >Berry Punch being one of the most regular regulars
  12. 12.
    >She's such a regular no one complains when she just sits outside and runs her mouth
  13. 13.
    >"Don't act like ya aren't lookin'!"
  14. 14.
    >Berry jostles her front hoof, shaking her fifth bottle of Whinness stout
  15. 15.
    >The bottle, in turn, shakes her cock
  16. 16.
    >Whenever she gets drunk she turns shameless
  17. 17.
    >And you have never seen her sober
  18. 18.
    >"Come on, I see you here all the time. Don't you want a little?"
  19. 19.
    >Fuck it
  20. 20.
    "Sure. Why not, I could use a drink."
  21. 21.
    >You ignore how this might affect your social standing and sit near to the sloshed flare mare
  22. 22.
    "You actually willing to share a drink?"
  23. 23.
    >"Of course, lad! Now pick your poison and take a taste~!"
  24. 24.
    >You don't know what she was expecting but you take the bottle and chug it
  25. 25.
    >Stouts usually hit you pretty hard on an empty stomach but who cares
  26. 26.
    "That's not bad stuff."
  27. 27.
    >"Don't go hoggin' it all! Save some for the fishes."
  28. 28.
    "Fish sticks shit bricks."
  29. 29.
    >The rest of the bottle goes
  30. 30.
    >The second bottle goes
  31. 31.
    >"Don't stay out too long, Berry Punch. It's supposed to be cold tonight."
  32. 32.
    >The barkeep gives her a casual warning before locking the door and going off
  33. 33.
    >He didn't seem to even pay any mind to you joining her
  34. 34.
    "And then... fuckin' mare. I don't dress fancy enough. I don't have a big family business goin' on. I ain't-"
  35. 35.
    >You take a quick chug from your third bottle
  36. 36.
    >You have no clue where she's getting her supply from but you're jealous
  37. 37.
    >You can hold liquor but this stuff has weight
  38. 38.
    "I ain't even got a job! Y'know what I've been doin'?"
  39. 39.
    >"Tell me, lad."
  40. 40.
    >She hiccups and shivers from her latest gulp from her own bottle
  41. 41.
    >She's as hard as possible
  42. 42.
    >You're both surrounded by a shameful collection of mostly-empty bottles
  43. 43.
    "Picking up trash an' pickin' flowers! I'm a freaking public servant. Not even a janitor, they get paid. I mean, I get paid too, but barely anything at all!"
  44. 44.
    >Your head feels like it could roll off of your shoulders
  45. 45.
    >You struggle to maintain a solid sitting position
  46. 46.
    >"Y'know what would make you feel a looooooot better?"
  47. 47.
    "Eh?"
  48. 48.
    >You snort after inhaling
  49. 49.
    >"Y'should buff my bottle. Make it shine and I'll give ya a special drink."
  50. 50.
    "Bullshit."
  51. 51.
    >You scoff
  52. 52.
    "Bull... shit. You're a straight up liar, ain't you."
  53. 53.
    >You don't believe her for a second that her words are anything but a lazy come-on
  54. 54.
    >With that struggling to find purchase in your mind...
  55. 55.
    >When...
  56. 56.
    >When did you decide you were taking her up on her offer?
  57. 57.
    >You can feel her stubby flare pulsating in your mouth
  58. 58.
    >"Ooooahh... your mouth's a volcano is so hot..."
  59. 59.
    >She sounds amazed
  60. 60.
     
  61. 61.
    >You jerk your head back and forth, aggressively servicing the drunkard
  62. 62.
    >She even tastes like some flavor of alcohol
  63. 63.
    >She's probably spilled it on her
  64. 64.
    >Her preputial ring keeps meeting your lips
  65. 65.
    >Her head rolls back, a long moan flowing from her lips
  66. 66.
    >She's close
  67. 67.
    >Her hind legs keep shaking
  68. 68.
    >There's no way she can have stamina when she's so deep in the bottle
  69. 69.
    >You feel a hoof rest on the back of your head
  70. 70.
    >"Cooooooooomin'.... ouuuuuuuahhhhhhh..."
  71. 71.
    >Rather than groan or grunt or scream, Berry Punch simply lays back when she orgasms
  72. 72.
    >Her bottle erupts, ropes of equine Irish Cream pumping out
  73. 73.
    >Unable to fight her when inebriated, you half-lay in place and let her keep pumping
  74. 74.
    >Out of some profane reflex your free hand goes to her sack
  75. 75.
    >You gently squeeze to help promote that her body go all out
  76. 76.
    >You snort and lose your tempo
  77. 77.
    >A sudden spray of cream shoots out of your nostrils
  78. 78.
    >She finishes after what feels like multiple minutes
  79. 79.
    >The cream that escaped through your mouth and nose has formed a wide puddle that has already matted her pink belly and hind legs off-white
  80. 80.
    >You look up at the alcoholic to see her condition
  81. 81.
    >...
  82. 82.
    >She's out like a light
  83. 83.
    >Still erect, but maybe at half-mast and still leaking cream
  84. 84.
    >...
  85. 85.
    >You kinda want to take her home
  86. 86.
    >But you're far too full and out of your own head to the point even standing up is too much
  87. 87.
    >...
  88. 88.
    >Fuck it
  89. 89.
    >With your face having been turned into an obscene mess that directly matches the mess on her crotch, you scoot next to her and wrap an arm around her body
  90. 90.
    >You aren't going anywhere
  91. 91.
    >Maybe you can kinda keep her warmer too

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