Hitting Those High Notes

“Okay, we have... Three ounces of tomato juice, one-point-five of Neighberian vodka, half of... where is that... Aha! Lemon. Perfect.”

Spike emptied more or less the entire upper shelf of the fridge and laid the stuff out on the counter. He then wheeled back around and took ahold of a glass, the largest one he could find. “See, this is only a recipe for one, but I figured we could share it.”

“Ah, wonderful idea!” Sweetie Belle chirped with a twirl. She made a ballerina leap from her currently occupied couch and onto the adjacent one. “Romantic and clever like the drake himself.” She then jumped and deliberately fell onto her back, relaxing her hands on the back of her head.

Spike couldn’t help but find that irresistibly cute, and on top of that, drop dead sexy, especially when she was rocking that white lingerie. Her bra held her puppies tight, though with just enough leeway for a bit of bounce. Her panties were fairly revealing, thin around the waist and sported with purple frills. All of that was mysteriously covered by a translucent blouse. The whole outfit was just so her. Of course, Spike knew it would suit her; he made it.

“So, do you like the duds?” he asked.

Sweetie nodded and sat back up, pulling the blouse back onto her shoulder. “Heck yeah. This might just be the best underwear I’ve ever worn.” She blushed and giggled. “Not that I wear much underwear these days...”

“You’re just sayin’ that.”

She then leaned forward, plumping her breasts up by her arms. “No, I’m serious. It’s like I’m wearing nothing at all.”

That last part ringed in Spike’s ears. Nothing at all. NOTHING AT ALL.

Stupid sexy Sweetie Belle, can I have a straight up talk with her without getting a rager? But he couldn’t really count himself above her level. Every time he looked at her she was staring at him with youthful lust. To be fair, though, he was going bare. What was the point in wearing underdrawers if he was just going to take them off again? Or have them forced off?

He gave Sweetie a point of the finger and a click of the tongue, then poured the tomato juice into the glass. He squeezed a bit of juice out of the lemon, mixed in the vodka and mixed it together with a spoon. “Now take a look at this. I can mix a bloody mary fiercer than—”

“Bloody Mary?” Sweetie interjected. “Have you ever been to her bar in Trottingham? The cherry schnapps are to die for.”

Spike’s scales went red. He remembered the last two times he stepped into The Limey Glade for a drink. He just wanted a gin and tonic the first time, a margarita the second, and ended up having far more than he bargained for. “I’ll tell you what, or in this case, who is to die for, and that is the son of the Bloody Mary.”

Sweetie’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “Holy crepes, you did not...”

“Who do you think taught me how to mix like an effing beast? Bam!” Spike added a dash of pepper sauce to the drink, then started to stir it all in with the celery stalk. “I’ll tell you this much, if you want some hardcore twink action, you should hit Pipsqueak up. That kid has energy to spare, and, uh, hold on...” He set the glass down, then counted his fingers one by one. He had to pause for a moment and think about whether a certain, rather unforgivable act qualified, but he figured if they both got off on it, it counted. In the end he was holding up nine fingers.

Sweetie was having difficulty picking her jaw off the floor. “That many... Without stopping?”

Spike shrugged. “It would have been a solid ten, but the poor twink was so drunk he fell asleep in the middle of giving me head. I mean, granted, I still finished, but...” He finally gave the bloody mary a test swig, and while it definitely didn’t outdo Pipsqueak’s blend, lacking the same subtle sweetness and zip, it was still a respectable drink, and definitely good for warming up for what was bound to transpire. “Is that how you serve alcohol, Spike?” The drake turned to his reflection in the window. “Yes it is, Other Spike, yes it is.”

With that, he bounded away from the kitchen platform back into the living room where the sultry Sweetie Belle sat, eagerly awaiting a taste of the stuff. He sat across from her and handed her the glass.

“So tell me the dirty details. How did you get the little limey in the bedroom?” she asked before taking a rather greedy sip of the red beverage. “Oooh, that is good!”

Spike’s blush kept returning with a vengeance. “Well, let’s see... I was in Trottingham, obviously.”

“That’s an odd place to find yourself.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best that I took a little vacation, and I decided to pick someplace grey and rainy. Hey, could I?” He beckoned for the bloody mary. Sweetie handed him the glass back and he had another swig, this one a bit more hefty. He exhaled as the glass fell back from his lips. He wiped a dribble of red off his chin, realizing that he’d drained nearly half the glass in a single go.

Sweetie laughed at that. “Thank Celestia dragons can burn through alcohol. It must take you, what, thirty shots to get spitfaced?”

“Yeah, but that’s more or less what happened with Pipsqueak. I kept ordering drinks and he kept ‘em coming without question. Needless to say, I was open to pretty much any idea by the time I was seeing three of the squeaker. The little charmer took me to a seedy hotel, don’t even remember the name of the place...” Spike rubbed his temples. While the memories were dirty and kind of a blur, he could still remember the good parts well enough. He was at least tipsy enough to not care about the embarrassment of sharing his drunken romp. “We stripped down together while we had a tongue war. Pip hadn’t even pulled his shirt off before I went down on him.”

Sweetie was leaning over, listening very intently. “How big was he?”

Spike racked his brain and created a rough measurement with his fingers, roughly six inches. “Decent enough for a horse. Dragon cocks aren’t nearly as thick.” When Sweetie tilted her head, he followed up with, “Uh, Twilight did some comparisons.” She tilted her head some more, smiling sinisterly. “It was for her biology studies.” And nothing else, he tried to convince himself.

Sweetie stopped with the head tilting and went back to being cute. “So what happened next? This is hot.”

“After I got him all lathered up, we dry humped for a while, you know, chest to chest. Things really got heated when he arched his back and started to stroke me. That was the first time I came, and I honestly think this was one of the sauciest things I’ve ever seen, he licked it all off my chest like it was yogurt or something. Then he kissed me.”

The red on Sweetie’s face was much more noticeable with her white fur. “With your spunk in his mouth?”

“Yup.”

She pursed her lips as she brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Jeepers...” She took another swig of alcohol.

Spike’s arousal was very, very visible, but he didn’t care much. He was smiling goofily as he recalled what happened next. “That’s when I turned around on him and we traded blows until our mouths were all good and full. I think that went on for about a half hour. I do recall that Pip choked on me, just for an instant. While he recovered, laying on his stomach, I gave him a massage.”

“On his back, huh?” Sweetie looked like an evil villain with her hands clasped beneath her chin. “Little details, hon. Was he a moaner?”

“You’d expect him to be a squeaker, right? But yeah, he moaned. Eventually, my hands got all naughty and I started massaging his flanks. They were very feminine and mare-ish. I kneaded his wine glass cutie mark, then slowly eased him into position...”

Sweetie snickered and sipped again. “I think I can figure out the rest from there.” She swirled the remains of the bloody mary in the bottom of the glass. “Why don’t you have the rest?” She held it up to Spike’s beak. He leaned in, wrapping his lips around the rim. Sweetie tilted the glass and he chugged down the rest. With the glass set aside, she got off her chest and sat back up.

“So, yeah, that’s how the infamous sexual orientation fiasco began. That was a whole month of muscle shirts, leather pants and Hoity Toity magazines. Twilight and I had to have a serious talk when I started wearing collars.” Spike felt nervously for his neck.

“I think collars are pretty cool,” Sweetie said with a sitting hop.

Spike coughed and half whispered, “They were studded...”

“Oooh.” That looked physically painful for her. “So, hopped out of the wrong closet, didja?”

“I don’t even like muscle shirts! It was after I scored backstage passes to Vinyl Scratch’s Feelin’ The Wub tour and got ridden like an effin’ buffalo for twelve hours that I realized that I play for both hoofball teams. That’s when Twilight figured out that dragon sexuality is a little more... open.”

“Speaking of open,” said Sweetie, “I appreciate you being so open with me in all of this. There’s nothing sweeter than an honest fella.”

There goes the heartwarming, Spike thought, feeling a rise in his chest. “Well, sex is an art form, like painting, or fashion, or singing, or hello beautiful bouncing breasts what are you doing Sweetie?”

The young teen idol was leaning back against the couch. Her blouse had fallen from her shoulders down to her arms, which were panning up to her chest. Her hands were playing with the clasp. Spike knew bras that unclasped from the front were in high demand, not to mention they were just plain practical, especially if the wearer was stripping down.

With a highly anticipated, satisfying click, the bra came undone, hanging limp across Sweetie’s marshmallows of joy. They bounced slightly upon release, the up and down motion and slight jiggle mesmerizing Spike. The dragon couldn’t look away, and he probably would have snapped his neck if he tried.

Throwing off the bra, Sweetie scrunched up her arms to press her breasts up together, giving Spike an up close and personal view of her exposed and plump cleavage. “If sex is an art form, then let’s create!”

“You sound like Rarity...” Spike muttered. Suddenly he lost his arousal and involuntarily looked away from the breasts before him. The normally bright and luxurious suite felt dimmer, for some reason.

“Spike...” The touch of white fingers on his cheek snapped him out of it.

“It’s nothing. Come here.” He raised his own hands to Sweetie’s face and brought her in close. Their lips touched. It wasn’t a fierce battle of spit and tongue, nor was there moaning or heavy breathing. There were only lips. The touch of a young, vibrant sprite such as her was enough to bring him back to full fluster, and he went erect again in just an instant.

While their lips remained locked, Sweetie pulled off the rest of the blouse, leaving her upper body completely exposed and bare. “You can touch my breasts if you want, Spike,” she said.

“Oh, I want.” Spike eagerly licked his lips with his long dragon tongue, like he was about to dig right in to some sugary sweets. He grasped her right mound with his palm and sunk his claws in. He carefully pinched the nipple there while doing a circular squeezing motion with the rest of his hand. Pulling on her nipple teasingly, he smiled at the deep moan Sweetie let out. His thumb tweaked it back and forth for emphasis. “This is gonna sound odd, but if you ever have foals, they won’t have any shortage of food.”

She let out an endearing giggle. “Complement accepted. Why don’tcha have a taste test?”

Like out of a bad porno. Regardless, Spike took advantage of that offer. While his hand was teasing at the areolas of Sweetie’s breast, he pressed his snout against the other and nuzzled it affectionately. He lapped at the closely groomed fur of her breast with small, wet licks and kisses.

After a few minutes of attentions, squeezes and nuzzles, he pulled away from the marshmallow and said, “Purr for me, okay?”

“Nya,” Sweetie muttered. She did just as he requested when he graced her nipple with his lips and kissed it. He traced the tiny erect bumps around the point, enjoying every little tickle on his tongue. She tasted like sweat and... peaches. Of course.

Growing bolder, he decided to add his teeth to the equation. Starting around the nipple he began to rest his fangs on her fur. Tracing them along the edge of her nipple, he started to move in closer in tight pinches of his teeth, eliciting louder cat-like noises from Sweetie. He took care to not break the skin. The last thing he wanted in this equation was blood.

While his teeth were gracing her with gentle bites, his other hand was fast at work. Past the cute stage of playing with her tit, his hand was groping at her, with his fingers stretched as wide as they could go. Squeezing, pulling, grabbing, it was all motions in the game of foreplay before the real fun could begin.

“Mrrrawr... Your tongue...” Sweetie was so lost in the little bubbles of pleasure expanding in her mind that gravity started to take its toll on her. She collapsed onto her back and let the feasting drake overcome her entirely. Spike crawled over her and, with a delighted wag of his scaled tail, fastened his lips around her nipple and pulled. “Gentle, gentle...” Sweetie whispered, coaxing Spike to relax with a brush over his solid spines.

He kissed the nipple once again before his head left the breast alone entirely, at least for a moment. With both of his hands pawing at her wonders, he buried his face in the cleavage, shaking himself about vigorously and humming. Sweetie could feel every vibration of his voice throughout her chest, tickling both her arousal and her laughter at once.

“Wow, haha...” Sweetie tweaked her rock solid nipples and gasped at the sensation. She met Spike’s hands midway down the curves of her breasts and held them, interlacing her fingers with his. “How can you do that? With your fingers, and the...” She flushed furiously. “It’s so good.”

Spike wiggled his claws in front of Sweetie’s face. “I’m a pianist, Sweets. I’ve got magic hands.” He kissed her on the tip of her muzzle and ran his claws through her mane for emphasis. “I have you to thank for that. When I heard you sing for the first time at your middle school graduation, I told myself, ‘I’m gonna play music to that mare someday’.” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d be making love to her too.”

Sweetie reciprocated the chuckle. “Oh, so that’s what we’ve been doing this whole time? I thought we were, hmm,” a mock pout and a finger on her lips, “what’s the word I’m looking for?” She snapped her fingers. “Help me out.”

“Fucking?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Spike was looming over her like a cloud. She embraced him, rubbing her fingers across his scales and slowly sliding them downwards. Soon, she was groping his toned thighs. “When were we suddenly making love?”

Spike’s hands were on her legs as well, though they were moving upward, with him slipping his thumbs underneath the lace of her panties. “Well, the line between making love and, well, fucking,” he put particular emphasis on that last one while he began to slide the silky cloth down Sweetie’s legs, “is pretty darn blurry, but I’d say we crossed over after we started sharing beverages.” He loved how the panties were reluctant to come off around her nethers. She was already so moist. “But it’s up to interpretation, I mean, fucking doesn’t usually involve much kissing, we’ve been doing a lot of that, and speaking of...” He gestured to himself with his digits.

Sweetie responded by pushing herself forward against Spike. This was the full package, with their tongues wrapping around each other, fluctuating in gaining territory, with one bowing to the other on occasion. Taking a moment, Sweetie licked at Spike’s cheek and lips before going in for more.

Slowly yet surely, Spike did away with her panties from her upper legs. He leaned up and broke the kiss, ready to remove the cloth entirely. He moved Sweetie’s legs to point straight upwards. It would have taken a quick, clean sweep to render her entirely bare, but he preferred to play the waiting game, which would make it all the, well, sweeter in the long run. He nuzzled her thigh and ankle as he very gradually slid the panties along. Her legs practically went on for miles, with a perfect blend of squeezable fluff and slender, modelesque appeal. When the panties finally left all contact with Sweetie, Spike took in the cute and cuddly sight of the naked and nubile starlet before him. She was just as stunning here as she was drenched in water, if not even more so with her mane styled to perfection and her curves unobscured by steam.

Spike kissed and licked her hooves and elicited laughter from the starlet. Her hooves were smooth and very, very clean, as he expected, a nice contrast from the wear and tear on Caramel’s hooves. “Caramel spends a lot of time working the farm with Big Mac. He wasn’t nearly as groomed as you are.”

Pausing from her high pitched laughs, Sweetie said, “Some like it dirty.” She giggled again, with her breasts jiggling from every chirp.

“Yeah, well...” Spike leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I like it sweet.” His inner conscious groaned. Cornyyyyy, it said, but Sweetie was eating it right up. With her hands at her sides and Spike’s grappling the couch, he began to grind up against her freshly exposed slit. His ribbed length pressed into her flower.

Sweetie tensed up, with the light, teasing sensations in her loins growing by the instant. “Mmmrah... This is going to be good, I can tell.”

“Come on, come on...” Spike repeated under his breath. He was so pumped for what was to come (Phrasing, said his brain) that he was having an unfortunate amount of difficulty lining himself up.

Sweetie’s fingers were pressing into his scales, in a comforting, reassuring sort of way. “Mmm, take your time, Spikey Wikey, we have all night.”

“I don’t want to keep you waiting,” he said.

Sweetie giggled again. “Your thick dragon cock is sooo worth the wait.” She pressed her lower lips against said cock to emphasize her words. “Take as long as you need, just pleeease promise you’ll give it to me...”

The drake adjusted himself. This time, he was certain he had his tip firm directed towards its destination. “I always keep my promises...” He slowly thrust his pelvis forward, and his head pierced Sweetie’s lips.

“Yes, yesss, that’s it.” She was straight up thrusting her hips forward at this point. Her body was desperate for dragon seed, and she obviously couldn’t hold it back any longer. Her mind said patience, but her body demanded Spike. And from the small taste she was just receiving, she was really looking forward to the main event.

Spike cast himself forward and inside Sweetie.

“Mmmm...” she moaned. Her fingers scraped at Spike and her legs twitched. It was good. So good. Spike had her glistening, youthful lips wrapped around him, and those lips were just begging for more. “You’re so warm...” That’s all she could say before her words were lost to heavy breaths. Spike could feel them on his face.

With one last nod, he spread his legs ever so slightly and rested his hands right next to Sweetie’s head. He graced her cheek, just for the sake of comfort. Though he was about to make her feel even better. “We’re going to take this nice and slow, okay?”

Sweetie gave a moan of approval. That was Spike’s green light. He thrust all the way inside, down to the end of his shaft. Slowly, of course. By the time he reached his length, Sweetie’s fingers were completely dug into his shoulders, just about to break the skin. As he pulled out part-way, he took ahold of one of her hands and pressed his muzzle to it, like a gentlecolt acquainting with royalty. You know, while I fuck her. Hands went back into position, and Spike followed up with another thrust.

“Oh, Celestia...”

Spike couldn’t tell if she was calling out because he was actually making her up something good, or she was fantasizing about the eloquent sun goddess herself, and if the latter was the case, he seriously couldn’t blame her.

Sweetie rolled her hips, swallowing Spike further within her, whist crossing her lower legs. She had him more or less locked in. But he wasn’t complaining. He thrust again. This felt right. It was dirty, irresponsible, and he was pretty sure that if somepony were to catch them in the act, the entire ordeal would end up all over the papers. Two musicians fucking in a penthouse suite. "What, you’ve never been?" Spike imagined himself asking the first razzi to berate him on it. Yet, despite being dirty and irresponsible, there was a subtle, yet simultaneously very blatant beauty to all of this. It was something that he couldn’t quite put into words, mostly because those words would have been garbled by heavy panting. He thrust into Sweetie again, making her gasp and exhale humming.

He had to keep pausing to slow down. “Reality doesn’t work like in pornography, Spike,” Twilight had told him. “Thrusting like a piston doesn’t get the job done, especially when it’s a very intimate encounter. Remember: sex is art, but it’s a joint effort. Now, could you pass the grapeseed oil? Let’s try something else...” And he locked that thought away. For real this time.

Despite that, Spike couldn’t see any reason not to kick things up a notch; he wouldn’t go faster, he’d just be stronger. As he continued casting into Sweetie and she rolled against him, he brushed his hands very slowly down her chest, massaging her belly for good measure, and ended that little journey at her songbird mark. Like in the shower, he kneaded the fluff and chub of her bum, then, with full control over her lower body, he rocked into her with far more power.

“Maaa.... Yes, yeessss... Aaagh...” Sweetie’s nectar began to pour out, coating Spike’s cock in more natural lubricant. It tickled at his skin and spurred him on. He wanted his entire length drenched in that stuff. And so did she. Her entire world was moving, her mind felt numb, and her sweating body felt amazing. After all this, she couldn’t hold back. With one final push of her nethers against Spike, she poured out for him, coming at a relaxed yet nearly overwhelming force.

Spike took notice of this, with her flush expression and heavy, blissful sighs, and immediately forgot about his own building orgasm. He stopped his thrusting while he was still well inside her.

Sweetie immediately brought herself forward. She rested her hands on Spike’s chest and rocked her hips again. “No, don’t stop... I want to feel that again.”

She kissed him, and he gratefully returned the favor. “Was I that good?” Spike asked. He smiled broadly at her touch on his chest. It was comforting, in a way. And he worked for months to get that figure. It was starting to pay off.

“You were so, so good, but I’m not done.” Sweetie’s hands had an ulterior motive. She shoved Spike onto his back. One bounce later, she was atop him, dominating just as he was before. She pressed her snout against his, giving off a serious ‘I own you’ vibe. “Besides, I need you to come.” Her touch went from Spike’s chest to her own, giving a little tug on her nibbles for the sake of restimulation. With a tight pinch, as well as slide downwards for a little rub of her clitoris, she was ready to go.

Spike crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing like a true king of leisure. “I can’t believe how lucky I am sometimes...”

The beautiful starlet was kissing his cock with her lower lips, giving it a fresh coating of her love juices. She rose her hips ever so slightly, allowing his cock to spread her open once again. She rolled her hips like a wheel and lodged him inside, then rose up again. The slightest whispers of a moan passed her lips, with her eyes fluttering and her cheeks red like a bloody mary.

Sweetie started the pace of gentle bounces and rocking of her wide hips. Her breasts bounced each time she went down on Spike. Once again, he found himself mesmerized by their attractive movements, it was like watching the tide on a beach. In tune with her rocking were the small moans escaping her. Each one rose in volume as her pace quickened. “Jeepers, Spike... Aaaah... You make your own luck...”

Obviously, being the king of leisure wasn’t all it was chocked up to be. Still in his relaxed pose, Spike joined in as well. With a satisfied smirk on his face his hips followed the opposite motion of hers. He thrusted into her when she fell onto him, and vice versa each time she went up. It was a beautiful pattern of gasps, moans and grunts, the latter mostly from Spike. “Sex is art, and this is one hell of a- Hrrgh, landscape!” he shouted between thrusts.

Sweetie’s laughter was even more heavenly and infectious than her moaning. Both the drake and the mare laughed through their humping, filling their hearts with warmth. Of course, Spike’s moistened reptilian shaft was red hot.

Laying her bare, sweaty, vibrating body over Spike’s, Sweetie whispered to him, “Couldja do something for me?” She rolled back and paused with her hip dropping, leaving her walls to squeeze down on the head of his cock. “I want you...”

Spike tilted his head. “Eh?”

“...to pull my mane.”

“Oh.” The idea of rough play wasn’t part of Spike’s repertoire of key moves. “I, uh, don’t want to hurt you.”

Her hands cupped around his cheeks. “That’s kinda the point, silly...” She paused to moan as she dropped her hips once again. “Pleeeeease pull my mane. It’ll hurt, but in a good way.” Her rocking of her hips resumed at full force, as if she never stopped.

Well, she asked for it. Reaching out with a hesitant claw, he grabbed a handful of her beautiful curls. Not knowing what else to do, he simply went with the approach of tugging it.

“Raaagh... That’s it...” Sweetie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as her hips got more physical in their grinding against Spike’s pelvis. He began to get more comfortable in their momentum as he pulled her hair harder. It was like winding up a lawnmower; the harder he tugged, the faster Sweetie’s motor, er, vagina pumped against his cock, until her lower regions were nothing but a blur and her cries of sweet pain were indistinguishable from utter euphoria.

Spike felt a familiar lurch. It was like a sudden stop to a carriage ride when all of ones organs, just for a moment, are airborne. And he felt like he was going to effing fly. “Agh, gonna lose it...” Sweetie was riding too loud and furious, she didn’t hear him. “Gonna cum, dude...”

She didn’t halt, but she slowed down as she put her hands back on his chest. Her walls were getting tighter around him by the second. “Yes, Spike... Don’t hold anything back.” She pressed herself ever closer, with her lips just inches away from his. She smelled of sweat now more than peaches, but there was no waft of shame. She wanted this bad, so bad.

Spike retired his arms from their lax position and slammed them to Sweetie’s rump, faster than he intended. A piercing slap rended the air. Spike’s eyes bugged out when he realized he just spanked a girl. What’s more, she liked it. “AH! Oh, fuck yeah!” she cried.

Her hips dropped one last time. She impaled herself on Spike, and her walls clenched around him, squeezing the hell, and orgasm, out of him. At the same time, Spike’s felt every bit of his nethers rupture, from his pelvis, to his dragon eggs, the base of his cock to the head. Every wonderful, blissful emotion possible, like the first bite into a roasted quartz, or the smell of a bakery on quiet afternoon, or putting on a new leather jacket; he felt all of those at once, escalated to the fourth, no, fifth power.

Spike laid his head back, closed his eyes, and came like a torrent. His hot, fresh, white seed emptied into Sweetie, slathering her insides and draining out around the length of his throbbing cock. She moaned deeply and hummed at the wonderful, unique sensation, with her hands on her rosy cheeks. Such a sweet liquid filling her up. No matter how hot it was, it still cooled her thermic insides and, just for an instant, she thought she saw Nirvana. She dragged her fingers down her cheeks, sighing as her glazed eyes panned to the ceiling. “Aaaw, fuck yeeeah...” she said again.

“Fuck yeah, indeed,” Spike muttered. He joined Sweetie’s hands on her cheeks and brought her in closer than ever for the most passionate kiss of the weekend, while his ongoing orgasm continued to ravage her. He was well into his second wave, with his third fast approaching. He hissed into Sweetie’s mouth when it overwhelmed him. “Mmm... That’s what I call a masterpiece. Put it in a museum.”

Sweetie shut him up with a finger to his lips. “No fluffing way, Spikey Wikey, I want you all to myself. At least for the rest of the weekend.”

The small, fourth wave came, but Spike didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel much of anything. His stomach twisted, and not in a good way. “Spikey Wikey...” It didn’t feel good to say, not in the slightest.

Sweetie blinked and caressed one of Spike’s dorsal fins. “Is something wrong? Did I screw up?”

Spike forced himself back into the present. He decided to lay on the sap, walking two fingers up her breast, along the nape of her neck and brushing her chin. A classic movie act. “Couldn’t be more wrong, Sweetie. You were amazing.”

A sigh of relief and serenity later, Sweetie removed herself from Spike and snuggled up to his side. He could tell by her biting of her lip and her fast inhaling that she was just barely staving off the urge to beg him back inside her. But Spike noticed something else about her as she nibbled on his dorsal fin like a kitty, and that was the exhaustion in her lovely eyes. He brushed a stray lock of her very disheveled mane aside. “Feeling a little sleepy there?”

It took her a few seconds to nod. She looked over Spike’s chest to the tableside clock. “It is really late...” Spike took a look at the digital numbers too. It was well past one in the morning. He leaned his head back, taking notice of the princess size bed set up against the wall length window.

“Well, nothing good happens after two,” he said. Sweetie moved her arm away from Spike as he sat up on the couch, swung his leg over and stood, suddenly losing sensation in his leg. “Woah, cramp!” All that riding on Sweetie’s part messed him up a little. He stumbled about a little, before catching himself and standing upright. It looked a little humorous with him sporting a partial. Still, he kept his cool, pointing to the bed behind him. “Comin’ to bed, Sweets?” He scratched the back of his head meekly. “I, uh, sorta want to cuddle.”

Sweetie’s exhausted eyes also carried a hint of longing for such a thing. She tried to get herself up but ended up falling right back where she laid. “Huff.” She reached out for Spike like a damsel to her prince charming in shining armor. “Carry me?”

And, much like prince charming in shining armor, he was never one to deny a fair lady (Or radical dude) such an endearing request. He kneeled to her and reached underneath her upper back and rump, putting his muscles to use and lifting her off the couch. She rested her head against his chest. She pressed her palm into it, chuckling sleepily. “Mmm, your chest is warm. Can I use it as a pillow?”

He tousled her mane. “Do whatever you want with me, Sweets. You don’t even have to wake me up.”

All too soon, their dramatic journey to the bed came to an end. Spike rested Sweetie down on the side that looked a little more comfortable, and he crawled over her to settle in on the other side. It was darn lucky that the blankets weren’t already up; it would have been easier to just fall asleep on top of them. Like a gentledrake once again, Spike pulled the covers over Sweetie, with her snuggling in like a little sleepy child. Despite her incredible body and a rampant sexual aura hiding it from sight, he could still sense the chipper, squeaky Cutie Mark Crusader within her. While that thought was a little unorthodox, he was sure he would just see the sexual part of her again in the morning.

Regardless, he still felt inclined to cross his arms around her belly and press himself up against her smooth back. It wasn’t sexy. It definitely was intimate. But more than anything else, it was right. The rise and fall of Sweetie’s chest as she drifted away from him into Luna’s dreamland, Ponyville absolutely silent beneath them, the ravenous, dirty pleasures of sex still looming in their minds... It was just right.

A smug grin crossed Spike’s beak. Crap. This is the part where I start falling in love with her.