“Mind locking up for me, Pirouette?” It had been an unusually busy (and profitable) night at The Tall Tail. So much so that as soon as last call finished, I had chased Bright Jade out from behind the bar and sent her home with one of the dancers who’d been putting extra effort into getting to know her. As much as I enjoyed Jade’s “I’m yours” attitude, she needed to connect with other ponies, or she’d draw suspicion sooner or later. With Jade gone, checking the stock against sales fell to me, and if I quit, I’d lose count.

“Sure thing, Done.” Pirouette trotted over as she shook her red mane loose from her face, still breathing heavily from her performance. Since making her return to the stage, she’d left no doubt just how badly she’d missed it: every night she was exhausted from giving it her all and then some. Frankly, I credited our uptick in business just as much to Pirouette’s performances as Bright Jade, the new outfits, or anything else. “Parapet still upstairs trying to wriggle outta her dress?”

I snickered despite myself as Pirouette took the key and headed for the large glass door across the performance hall. “I imagine. She fussed the whole time she was getting measured about how she didn’t feel right in a dress, and how she’d just make a mess of it if something came up and she had to deal with a drunk… but after she tried it on, she almost wore it out of the shop. So proud, just because I bought her something nice to work in.” I couldn’t help wondering what sort of mare Bruises would’ve been if she hadn’t gone hard under other ponies’ abuse.

Pirouette spat the key into her hoof before locking the door. “You laugh, Done, but when you’re from a rough part of town and finally make good in life, it’s a big deal! Not that I’d know, but I’d bet a quarter of my girls could tell you just how much it means to them to live in a safe, comfortable place since starting here.” It was Pirouette’s turn to laugh. “Two this year have asked why no mare’s tied you down yet when you take such good care of everypony.”

I looked up from behind the polished bar, amused. “And just what’d you tell them, Pirouette?”

Pirouette’s smirk spoiled that she was about to have some fun at my expense. “Why, I told them that you’re—oh sweet Celestia! Done!”

On the far side of the door, standing in the bright light cast from inside The Tall Tail was a panting, exhausted pegasus, her sides heaving. When she saw that not only was the building still lit, but ponies were in view, she fairly pounded on the door. “Please, let me in!”

Pirouette glanced back at me, though she didn’t need to. My approval was automatic. “Let her in, Pirouette.”

Pirouette turned the key the opposite direction, never even having pulled it from the lock, as the lavender pegasus outside looked back over her shoulder. Having opened the door and ushered the relieved mare through in one motion, Pirouette turned to lock it back, only to be pushed backward onto her haunches with an indignant squawk as the door was forced wide once more. Uninvited, and obviously on the tail of the mare Pirouette had just let in, came a pair of rough looking pegasi, blue and green.

I scowled and looked between Pirouette and the mare we’d let in. Pirouette looked annoyed, not hurt, and in company and the light, our newcomer seemed to be calming herself amazingly quickly. I opened my mouth, but unsurprisingly, Pirouette got the first word, voice raised.

“Just who in Equestria do you think you are? We’re closed, and you two certainly weren’t—ow!” Pirouette’s angry shouting was cut off by a cobalt hoof to the cheek from the closer pegasus as his partner marched past. Pirouette gingerly touched where she’d been struck, but the blow had done what it was supposed to. She held her tongue.

I hopped the bar, livid, and marched on the intruders without a second thought. In some distant part of my mind, I recognized that I was growling, scarcely even sounding like a pony I was so furious. That part of my mind held no weight with the rest of me; it was drowned in the smoke suddenly thrashing within me. If only that purple mare weren’t there! “You know what happened to the last stallion to hit a mare in my club? He didn’t wake up. He’s still in the hospital.”

The mare we’d let in sighed and laid her ears flat. Perhaps comforted by numbers, she seemed tired more than anything else. “Do you really want to do this where ponies will see? My former husband can’t do anything for you now, so why?” The tone of voice she used for the word “husband” left no illusion that it was an amicable split.

The green pegasus, with a rock cutie mark and a vicious glare, stepped forward and struck my muzzle in response. The world swam, and I staggered and dropped, hooves staying where they were, the rest of me sliding backwards and down—the perfect picture of pathetic. I grit my teeth and cursed under my breath as I blinked away the flashing lights. What was with troublesome ponies always hitting like trucks?

The hoof to my face wasn’t all he had to say. “You and your bastard kid ruined a lot of ponies lives, not just your husband’s. A lot of ponies had a lot riding on him. Ponyville’s too small, but show up in Manehattan, and you’re just a face in a crowd.” Eyes narrowed, he stepped toward the mare. Her calm could only mean faith in us, or long experience. Either way, it’d gone more than far enough.

I reached for the leg of the nearest barstool and clumsily flung it at the advancing stallion’s head. Missed by a mile, but it convinced him to deal with me first. I staggered to my hooves as the green and blue stallions both approached slowly, never once considering me a threat. Every ounce of bravado I had went into taking them both out without another scratch—into yelling, “Bruises! Double time!”

The cacophony of Bruises’ massive hooves on the wrought iron staircase was nearly deafening, and more than enough to draw the attention of everypony in the room. I winced as I saw the metal actually warp under the impact when Bruises was too hurried to be careful. The huge unicorn nearly stumbled down the staircase never meant for anypony her size, but made it to the bottom safely, her ripped black cocktail dress connecting her to the bent metal where it’d hung. She didn’t even notice.

Far more concerned with Bruises than they’d ever been with Pirouette or me, the thugs spread out a bit, eyes locked on their new problem. Bruises scanned the room, her eyes falling on Pirouette and missing me altogether. She rushed right past both pegasi, lifting Pirouette to her hooves magically as she approached, leaving the assailants glancing at each other in confusion.

“Pirouette! Are you okay? Bruises tossed her forelegs around Pirouette in a quick hug, still not quite realizing the gravity of the situation, but her eyes turned to me and my bleeding snout when Pirouette jerked her head in my direction.

“Boss!” Bruises dropped Pirouette in a panic, not noticing the out of place, adorable squeak behind her as she wheeled toward me, leaving Pirouette to plop back onto her plot. I was similarly lifted and hugged as the three other ponies in the hall stared in disbelief. As usual, Bruises had completely ruined the tension. “Boss! Who did this to you? I’ll t—”

I pressed a hoof over Bruises’ mouth and she shut up immediately. The intruding stallions were cautiously turning their attention back to the mare we’d let in. They had to be handled. “Bruises, I might have had you gently show these two out. But then they hit Pirouette. Then me. I bet they’ll really hurt this pretty lady if you don’t get rid of ‘em quick.”

Bruises’ eyes widened again, and she dropped me, too, though I managed not to squeak as I fell. I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect. Bruises was extremely protective of everypony at The Tall Tail—of “the ones who are nice to me,” as she called us—but this was her first time actually bouncing anypony from the cabaret. She turned, and her eyes were narrowed with all the anger the green stallion’s had held just a moment before, and more. The stallions edged backward, but made no motion toward the door.

“You hurt the boss! You hurt Pirouette!” It was Bruises’ turn for a slow, menacing advance, but the stallions gave up no more ground. The blue one took to the air for an advantage, only to find himself caught in Bruises’ magic and slammed to the ground. I involuntarily winced as Bruises raised a hoof over an awkwardly fanned wing and brought it down. I couldn’t hear the snap over the slam of the hoof, but the scream was unmistakable. Even the weak, forward kick Bruises followed up with was enough to slide the thug halfway across the hall. He made no attempt to stand.

The remaining pegasus was apparently a hair smarter and pulled a knife from under a wing, but that only made Bruises angrier. The stool I’d poorly thrown earlier popped up from the ground, surrounded in the navy glow of Bruises’ magic. He dodged swings once, twice… and then stumbled over the extended hoof of the mare this whole fight was about, and took the third swing right in the side of the head, tossing him feet away. The mare finally spoke again. “Oh, how clumsy of me. I’ve spoiled your little dance, miss.” The smirk on her face was unmistakable.

Bruises stared at the mare, missing the joke entirely. With an eventual shrug, she turned to check on me—only to finally realize her dress was torn, mere tatters still on her, with a wisp on the floor and almost half dangling from the damaged railing. “Boss! Boss, it’s ruined!” Bruises ran over and sat in front of me, holding a shred of her tattered dress in her hooves, clearly on the verge of tears. “My new dress! It was made just for me!” As if I didn’t know that, having bought it for her. Marvelous, my head hurt for two reasons. I nodded Pirouette toward our “guest” who was glaring at one of the intruders on the ground. She nodded back, locked the door at last, and headed toward the pegasus as I tried to calm my huge crybaby of a bouncer.

“Don’t worry, Bruises. I’ll get you a new one. I promise. It’ll look just as good on you as this one did.”

Pouting, Bruises hung her head, still staring at the scrap of fabric held in her great hooves. “This one was special! My first nice one! And I’ll just ruin a new one, too!”

My head throbbed. Bruises was seriously blaming herself for the ruined dress. “What about… a tux? It’s not very girly, but the dancers have used tuxedo-style costumes here before. They can look pretty cute. And the fabric stays away from your hooves, so it won’t get caught…”

For all my attempts at enticing her, Bruises just stared at the scrap in her hooves, mourning the loss. “…mares love a guy in a tux, you know.”

That got her attention. “B—but I’m not a guy…” I silently begged Bruises to cut me some slack, and my left ear twitched.

“Of course you’re not. But you want a fillyfriend, right?”

Bruises nodded, hope slowly replacing despair in those big, expressive eyes. “…will it be nice, like my dress?”

“I’ll make sure of it, Bruises.”

Bruises looked between the fabric and me several times before finally nodding. “Then it’s okay. Can I go home now? I kinda wanna calm down.”

I reached up to pat Bruises’ withers and nodded, relieved she wasn’t going to insist on being taken out for ice cream. “Go on. You did a great job tonight. Just… dump those two with a guard on the way, will you?” Between the staircase, Pirouette’s cheek and my muzzle, the shattered stool, and the knife, which I noticed had a feather stuck to it, I was comfortable the guards would buy our story.

Bruises nodded again and turned toward her first bounce-ees. “Okay boss!” The injured pegasi groaned as they floated into the air. “Tuxedo tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Just the fitting. It’ll be special made, like the dress, so a few days. I’ll come get you before work.”

Finally cheerful again, Bruises trotted out the employee door in the back, taking the trash with her.

I rubbed gingerly at my hurt muzzle as I turned to Pirouette and the remaining pegasus. “What a handful. Are you alright, miss?”

The pegasus nodded and offered a remarkably warm smile, and used a wing to brush her golden blond mane back away from her eyes. “I am, thank you. My name is Flying Grace. I apologize for the mess I’ve caused you. I don’t know if you saved my life, or just spared me a beating, but I’m grateful either way.”

Getting my first good look at her, Flying Grace was quite a pretty thing. Slim and on the petite side, even for a pegasus, and while I imagine she must’ve been halfway through her forties, the worst I could say was that she was in the far end of her prime years. If she had an actual flaw, I didn’t see it.

I returned the smile and gestured Grace over to a table. At Pirouette’s encouragement, she took a seat, and after I grabbed glasses and a soft cider, we joined her. “Name’s Done Deal. I’m the owner. I don’t want to pry, but do you mind telling me what the hay that was all about? I don’t usually get that kind of excitement in here unless drinks are in play. Speaking of which, here. Kid’s stuff, but it’s soothing.” I poured drinks for each of the ladies and myself.

Flying Grace laughed gently and smiled again. “An upscale club in Manehattan, and the proprietor sooths a poor lady with drinks for a foal. What’s Equestria coming to?”

I blushed and got up again to find something classier. Pirouette shot Flying Grace a sidelong glance, which only seemed to amuse Grace more. She stretched out a wing and laid it on my leg. “Relax, Done. I’m teasing you.”

I sighed, sat back down, and took a drink. “No rest for the wicked, I suppose.”

Grace smiled again. “I don’t think the wicked would’ve taken a punch for a total stranger, Done. I didn’t answer your question, though. From what they said, I suppose they were some sort of associates of my former husband. I don’t want to talk about it, but he was a vile stallion, and his fall from grace ruffled the feathers of similarly vile ponies. I’m truly sorry to have brought trouble to your door. I was in town looking for a fit dancing instructor for my daughter. One of them must’ve recognized me.”

I gestured to the stage. “Dance, huh? We have shows six nights a week, dancing in all of them. What sort of thing are you looking for?”

Grace blinked, then stifled a laugh. “Done, my daughter is a filly! I can’t have her dancing like a showmare!”

I suddenly regretted choosing the soft cider; my aching head just wasn’t catching a break. “Oh come on, you can’t think that’s what I meant! Pirouette’s a classically trained ballerina! It’s her special talent; it’s right on her flank!”

Pirouette blinked and frowned at me. “Done, I’m worked to the bone as it is, dancing, managing your dancers and choreographing shows! I’m not taking on a filly for private lessons so you can look good in front of a pretty mare!”

Exasperated beyond words, I let my head drop to the table, not even bothering to reduce the impact, and immediately regretted it as I gained my fourth reason for a headache that night. “Augh! Are you mares trying to drive me insane? Pirouette, you trained with what, four different teachers? You know ponies, and they know ponies! All I’m saying is you can—you know, I’m going to bed, it’s been a hell of a night. Show Flying Grace out when you two finish your drinks.”

I stalked away, leaving my drink behind unfinished. Jade could deal with it the next day if Pirouette didn’t. The mangled staircase, with Bruises’ dress still dangling from it, aggravated me further on my way to bed. I’m fairly sure I heard Pirouette’s voice call out apologetically as I clanked up the wobbly stairs, but at that point I didn’t care.

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later I still hadn’t gone to bed, and had only just calmed the swirling smoke inside. I was nursing a cider from my private stock—that one as potent as they come—when there was a rap on the door to the office. Grumbling that Pirouette could wait until morning if she wanted to apologize, I jerked it open to find Flying Grace there instead. Initial surprise very quickly gave way to aggravation: Pirouette absolutely knew better than to let somepony into the office. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Flying Grace’s wing covered my lips almost immediately.

She must’ve read me like a book. “Don’t be angry, Done. I practically had to beg her to let me up here. I just wanted to thank you again, and to apologize for being so difficult earlier. I’m playful, and not easily shaken. It didn’t occur to me that you were in no mood for teasing. Pirouette said it’s pretty hard to get you to stomp off like that, but I suppose it was a pretty lousy night for you.”

I gently pushed her wing away and sighed, most of the anger dissipated by Grace’s gentle tone. Looking her over again, I still couldn’t find any issue with her looks, apart from being at least ten years older than me, but she wore it so well it hardly mattered. I was tired, cranky, hurting, and a pretty pegasus was inches away. I let the smoke start to coil around my hooves, advancing it along the floor where Flying Grace couldn’t notice with her eyes on my face. “One of those nights. I run a respectable place, but it’s not the first time I’ve taken a hit. You just pushed the wrong button on the wrong night. It happens.” By this point, the smoke had wound up her legs to her chest, utterly unnoticed.

“I really am sorry.” Grace laid her ears back unhappily. “I’d hate for you to think I’m ungrateful, after you protected me, and Pirouette gave me several places closer to home to try for excellent dance lessons for my little girl. You’ve been a sweetheart, Done, and I just wanted to let you know how… grateful I… am.” The smoke had reached Flying Grace’s ears and nose, and she trailed off, staring ahead.

I’d made the smoke fairly thick, my patience for the night long since spent. “It’s late. If you want to show how grateful you are, you’re going to need time to do that, aren’t you? You should stay here tonight, so you have time. You don’t want to rush.”

Flying Grace blinked, slowly, as if her eyelids were difficult to move. “Time? Take my… time. Rushed thank yous… are rude.”

Grace stepped over the threshold from office to apartment, and I led her up the stairs slowly. “That’s right. And you’re not a rude mare. Just playful.”

Grace nodded blankly as she followed, as if talking and climbing stairs at once was too complex. “And you can thank me anyway at all, Grace. A little fling in Manehattan won’t hurt your family. Our little secret.”

We’d reached the top of the stairs and stood in my living room when Grace stopped following. “Family… I…”

I sighed and took the smoke further. She was already breathing it in eagerly, just as every mare had, but at that hour, my patience was in short supply.

“It’s fine, Grace. A generous, heartfelt thank you. We’ll make sure nopony gets hurt.” I stroked Grace’s mane with a smoke wrapped hoof, and as it neared her face, Flying Grace turned her head toward it absently and took a long sniff of the smoke, as if smelling a bouquet. She smiled.

“Thank you… Done." She slowly leaned to kiss me, still dazed by the smoke. I let it go, and accepted Flying Grace’s deep, sincere kiss as she meant to offer it.

Grace could certainly teach Day Planner a thing or two about kissing. Slow or not, her gentle use of her soft lips as the kiss broke and restarted was certainly efficient at getting me stiff. Though I had far too much sense and tact to say it aloud, I considered that there might be advantages to mares who’d done more living. Again I stroked Flying Grace’s mane, and she smiled, breaking the kiss to press her forehead against mine.

Her voice was soft when she spoke; even if we hadn’t been alone, nopony else would’ve heard. “It’s very late. Would you mind terribly if I gave you the rest of your thank you in bed?”

I smiled and gestured toward the bedroom. “Not in the slightest, Flying Grace.” With a swish of her golden tail and a brush of one wing under my chin, Grace stepped past me and down the hall. I followed that swishing tail, my mood finally leveling out for the first time since those goons had showed up.

“I didn’t think it’d upset you too much,” Grace called over her shoulder as she led me to my own bed. I reached my bedroom door just in time to see Flying Grace live up to her name, going from the floor to an alluring pose on the bed with a single flap of her wings, scarcely even disturbing the sheets when she landed. Her warm smile grew just a bit impish as I caught up and joined her on the bed.

“Now, whatever can I do to thank you? Three foals already, and I’m fairly sure my husband prefers being the one to make them… and your poor muzzle is still all swollen and painful looking. I just don’t know, Done. However shall I thank you?” Grace’s right wing was at odds with her mouth as she spoke. For all her teasing, she’d made me gasp twice in the seconds since I got onto the bed, brushing gently at my balls with her feathers. “Playful” was right.

I lay down on my side, head propped on a hoof, shaft toward Flying Grace. “You seem like the creative type. Surely you can think of something. And if not…” I leaned forward and enjoyed another long kiss, Grace’s lips seductively brushing mine again, “I think I could provide a hint or two.”

Grace looked amused, and the impish grin widened. “Could you now? I’d love to hear them.”

Resting my head on my pillow, I played along. “Oh… let’s see. I like what you’re doing with your wing. Why not go a little farther with that?”

Grace rose and turned her whole body to face my stiff cock before looking back my way, wide-eyed and innocent. She stretched both wings then and began sliding them up and down my shaft, separations in her feathers causing them to touch all the way around. I took a deep breath and relaxed as the heavenly sensation washed over me. “Like this, Done? Is this a good thank you?”

There’s no way Flying Grace could’ve missed that pleasure had already practically incapacitated me. Three or four slow strokes, and my breath was ragged. My body had practically gone limp on the sheets, and replying took effort. “That’s about right, Grace.”

“About right? Oh, that won’t do!” Grace began massaging my balls with a hoof while she kept up her work with her wings. “I’m much too grateful for ‘about’ right, Done! You’ll have to help me do better!”

I wanted to tease back. Celestia help me, I wanted to tell Flying Grace I wasn’t sure she could manage—but those wings! I might’ve managed some sort of choked sound before I popped my cork all over Grace’s waiting feathers. She blinked, probably surprised at how fast I’d been, then inspected a messy wing and laughed. “Oh my, Done! ‘About’ right? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were teasing me!”

I blushed. No stallion wants to be too quick with a pretty mare, even if it is a one night stand. Before I could make an excuse though, Grace smiled and patted my cheek, her tone much more gentle suddenly. “First time with a pegasus, Done?”

Grace’s reassuring tone soothed me enough to at least make eye contact. “First time with one who’s acting like one, anyway.”

Grace nodded, still smiling that amazingly reassuring smile of hers. I wondered if that smile was because of years, motherhood, or just who Flying Grace was. “Our wings can be a bit much. Teen pegasi have far more fun discovering themselves than I should admit.”

Embarrassed or not, I cracked up, and Grace’s smile went from reassuring to relieved. I rolled onto my back to look up at her where she’d moved. “Fortunately, I recover quickly, too.”

Quick as that, Grace’s expression turned playful once more. “Oh you do, do you? That wouldn’t be a boast would it, Done? I ought to shower, get my wings nice and clean again. You’ve got that long.”

I knew that would be more than enough, and pointed Grace toward the bathroom, but got a pout in response. “You’re going to leave me lonely, when I’m trying so hard to thank you? Come on, Done.”

Flying Grace gently closed her mouth over an ear and began to pull. I moved quickly, neither wanting her to stop, nor get bitten by mistake, but I couldn’t resist a mock complaint. “What am I, a one of your foals?”

Laughing around my ear tickled, causing it to twitch in her mouth, which earned more laughter still, but Grace didn’t let me go and didn’t answer until I was in the bathroom with her. “Of course not. As if I’d do this with my son!” Once again, Grace caught me in one of her kisses, stepping away and leaving it to me to move with her. I was dimly aware that we were in the shower, and that her long wings were reaching around me, when I heard a sudden squeak and jumped in surprise at the hot water pouring from the shower head. Grace broke the kiss to giggle at my reaction.

“Honestly, Done, you’re an awful lot of fun to ‘thank.’” Grace held her wings under the water, waiting patiently as my semen slowly rinsed away.

I brushed Grace’s long, suddenly wet, golden mane from her face. “I thought you seemed to be having fun.”

Rubbing against me more than strictly necessary in the shower stall, Grace moved to get more water. “Of course! What lady wouldn’t enjoy thanking her knight in shining armor? Well. I suppose it was that unicorn who did the saving, but you let me in and did get hurt on my account. ‘Bruises,’ was it? She’d never have had a chance to help if you hadn’t stuck your neck out.”

Simply watching Flying Grace lather up was enjoyable on its own. The mare’s every motion was either sensual or elegant, depending on whether she was doing it for my benefit or simply to bathe. There was no motion wasted, but it wasn’t simple efficiency, there was more, and it had gotten me stiff again already. And then, uncharacteristically, Flying Grace dropped the soap.

Head down, tail up—inviting as it was, all I could do was raise an eyebrow. Grace held the position, but laughed. “Too obvious, Done? And here you look ready to go, just like you promised. Ah well. Can’t risk a foal any—Done? What are you—Oh, wait, I’m—mmph? Mm…”

There was more than one way to enjoy myself under Grace’s tail. While she teased, I had lifted her tail, to which she didn’t object. Her confusion came when I mounted her regardless and pressed my tip against her ass. Leaning forward, I interrupted her with a kiss and blew just a little smoke into her mouth. Grace’s personality was a pleasure; I didn’t want to silence her, just get in. If taking it easy with the kiss made sliding my cock into her any more difficult than it had been with Jade, it wasn’t so much that it troubled either of us. If anything, the slower penetration seemed to be every bit to Grace’s liking. She moaned immediately, and slowly pressed back, confusion dispelled by sensations she hadn’t expected.

I was only halfway in, and already Grace’s wings were wide open, her legs wobbling. “Done… wait! Let me—Oh Celestia! Let me move my legs!” Grace raised her forelegs, bracing herself against the front of the shower, but her head hung between them, not worth the exertion of keeping it lifted. “Alright, Done, now!”

Flying Grace didn’t have to tell me twice. With her ass not as “welcoming” as Jade’s had been, I moved slowly, but I pressed my length in without holding back, shuddering in pleasure along with Grace at the magnificent tightness. I drew my hips back just a bit, winning another moan from Grace—and a startled cry when I shoved it back in. I paused. “Too rough?”

Grace craned her neck to look back at me. She was biting her lip, but shook her head. “N-not at all!”

As if to convince me, she pulled away, sliding off of me farther than I’d pulled out moments before, and roughly shoved herself back, stifling a scream as I was plunged back in. I laughed and rubbed her back. “Nothing’s open, and nopony else on the block lives over their business, Grace. You can let it go.”

I pulled further again, didn’t hesitate in shoving my cock clear in, hard, and Flying Grace took me up on my invitation to shout, her cries of pleasure made even louder in the small space of the bathroom. However much Flying Grace was enjoying it, her ability to stay up was outpaced by her desire, and she began sliding down the front wall of the shower. No matter how much she slid, though, each time I pulled a few inches from her ass, she shoved them right back in, until at last she lay on the floor of the shower, wings twitching as she came, and still she craned her head to smile back at me and tell me to keep going.

The sight of the elegant mare lying soaked on the floor of my shower as water poured down on us both spurred me on, and I thrust faster as Grace fairly sang my praises from below. I felt my smoke swirling in excitement at the state I’d put Grace in, and difficult as it was, struggled to calm it as I reached my limit. The motions were easier now, smoke or not, and when I finally poured my cum into her, the torrent was still beyond any sort of normal. The final thrust left me balls deep, and slid Flying Grace forward where she lay, mouth half open in a sloppy smile to gasp for breath. I made no effort to pull out, and sank to the floor of the shower with her.

Moments passed, with the water raining down on us as we smiled at each other and caught our breath. Grace was the first to speak. “How awful… I was almost clean, and now look what you’ve done!” The twinkle in her eyes told me she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I suppose we’ll just have to shower all over again, won’t we, Grace?”

Grace laughed. “I suppose we will. And somepony is going to have to behave this time! Which of us, I’m not sure!”

I joined Grace in her laughter and very gently pulled out, causing Grace to draw a long, slow breath and exhale as the mess poured out of her stretched ass. After getting to my hooves, I helped Grace to hers, and kicked the water on the shower floor toward the drain to get it some semblance of sanitary. Though Grace was unsteady, she was sharp enough to laugh at me. “Done, I’m a mother. I’m not that squeamish.”

“Probably not, but you’re too elegant to stand in that.” I shrugged, but Grace laughed even harder.

“Done Deal, you may be the only stallion in all of Equestria to call a mare elegant after all that!” Grace set about cleaning herself again, and I stood silently, unable to retort without kissing flank or taking back my compliment.

* * * * *

Clean, toweled off, and once again in bed, I lay with a hoof over Flying Grace, nuzzling her neck through her mane as she faced away from me. After the shower, we were both starting to yawn and making proper use of the bed sounded like just the thing. Or so I’d thought. I’d barely begun to doze when Flying Grace’s wings brushed my dick once again. I assumed it was an accident and relaxed again—Grace’s breathing was deep and even; she was almost certainly asleep. I laid my muzzle against her neck again, and again, her wings brushed my shaft. I chalked it up to coincidence, shifted a bit to deal with my rising member, and before I could relax, Grace’s wings brushed me third time, leaving me at full attention. “Playful” and then some!

I nuzzled her neck once more before beginning to kiss up and down her neck. A moment of that, and and a very sleepy and slightly annoyed voice floated back to me. “Done… I thought we were going to sleep.”

I blinked. I’d have been perfectly happy to sleep moments before, when she wasn’t toying with my dick! As tired as Grace sounded though, I didn’t doubt she was serious. “So did I! And then you started on me with your wings again!”

Grace sounded confused. “I… what?” She moved her wings experimentally, sliding them on my rod again and masking me gasp. When she realized what was going on, she buried her face in her pillow to laugh, hard enough that her slender body shook. Eventually, she pulled back her wings, and rolled to face me. “First time actually sharing a bed with a pegasus, Done?”

“I’m afraid so. Why? Do all pegasus mares tease stallions in their sleep?”

As dark as the room was, I could barely make out the silhouette of Flying Grace’s head, shaking slightly on the pillow. “I wasn’t teasing, Done. We just move our wings, same as other ponies move their legs in their sleep. Here, this should be better.”

Grace stretched her free wing out over me like a blanket. “There. Goodnight again, Done.” Leaning in the dark, she offered me one last kiss goodnight, and lay her head to rest on its pillow.

I had been content just minutes before, ready for sleep, and for Grace to go on her way the next morning, but now I was left hard as a rock as she drifted off again. That wasn’t satisfactory. In the dark of my bedroom, I pulled up tendrils of smoke that in the light would have been plain as day to Flying Grace, and sent them toward her. Even in that dark, though, I could tell that the sudden sag in her body and relaxation of the wing on me weren’t a return to sleep. I stroked her cheek, then rolled onto my back.

Grace and I were both tired. There was no reason to convince her of anything. I remembered back to the attendant on the train, what felt like ages ago, and opted for simple orders. “No, Grace. You can’t leave me hard. Use your wings and swallow so you don’t get messy.”

Almost immediately, she moved to get under the covers entirely, wiggling her way between my hind legs, and holding my stallionhood in place with her hooves. “Take care of it… swallow.”

A moment later, I felt the softness of her wings slide down my shaft before Grace’s mouth closed over the flare. I sighed contentedly as Grace slid her wings up and down, licking periodically around the head. Two orgasms already that night left me holding out better than I had the first time her wings worked my cock, and I relaxed, enjoying the feeling. Before I came, though, I wanted more.

I hadn’t released the smoke; it still floated into Grace’s ears, and she was still inhaling it. She wouldn’t resist. I pushed my hips up, driving my cock between Grace’s wings and up into her mouth. Without kissing her like before, I didn’t expect her to take me in her throat, but that was fine. As if nothing were at all out of the ordinary, Flying Grace continued to work my stallionhood with her wings while I eagerly bucked her mouth. Reveling in the sensations, warm and wet, soft and dry, as the beautiful pegasus between my legs helplessly served, I came, filling Grace’s mouth and pouring down her throat. She lowered her head to get as much as possible, and I sank into the mattress, utterly relaxed.

When the semen stopped flowing, I had Grace clean me off and return to her place in bed beside me, again using her wing as a blanket. I stroked Grace’s cheek once more as she returned to sleep, and considered keeping her. I could. I knew I wanted a pegasus, and Grace, a decade older or not, was an amazing mare. I tugged her wing a little tighter against me and sighed. My own mom was long gone, and it had wrecked me as a foal.

“If you’re ever alone in Manehattan again, Grace, drop in for fun. Our secret.” I let the smoke go.

* * * * *

Grace had left bright and early, due to head home and check ballet instructors closer to Ponyville. My rooftop access had been a relief to her: as unlikely as it was that the trouble from last night would still be around, there was no chance they’d be in the air. For Flying Grace, that made the roof a perfect exit. No farewell kiss, no teasing; the thank you had been given, and gracious as she was, it was time to leave. I saw her off with a wave, and headed back inside and down to the show floor to find Pirouette instructing workers for the repair of the staircase. As soon as I was off it, they moved to get to work, and Pirouette moved to speak.

“Late rising this morning, Done? Just how late did she stay?” Pirouette sounded curious, and maybe a hair more. I couldn’t place it.

I took a seat at the bar, too tired from the night’s debauchery to stand unnecessarily. “Grace? She just left. Why?”

Pirouette sighed and shook her head, walking glumly toward the stage, probably to start preparing for the night’s show. “No reason, Done. Nevermind.”

I wasn’t sure what had Pirouette in a mood. Aggravated, I’d understand; she’d been hit just the night before. Thinking back on the evening reminded me, she’d been just about to poke some fun at me, and I brought it back up, hoping it’d get a smile. “Hey, Pirouette—last night you’d been just about to tell me what you tell the girls when they ask why I’m not taken. What do you tell them?”

The reaction I got was all wrong. Pirouette sighed at the floor, then looked me straight in the eye. “I tell them you’re not done sowing your wild oats, Done.” While I scratched my head, confused at her tone, she turned and headed backstage, leaving me to wonder what I’d done.

Author's Note

Flying Grace and her image come courtesy of OminousBrony, a collaborator on The Risks of Braving a Storm, which I read as a reference. As you can see, Done was a bit reluctant to let her go--older mare or not, she's his type! Thanks for the use of your mare, OminousBrony!