Running Commentary

by Grimm

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy, Romance, Pinkie Pie, Sex, Slice of Life
Length: 4283

After the Iron Pony competition, Spike can't wait to commentate for the annual Running of the Leaves. Pinkie's invitation to be her co-announcer seems perfect, until Spike learns the real reason she wanted him in the air.

The Running of the Leaves. The longstanding Ponyville tradition: a great race through the forests to shake the leaves from their boughs. And as with any respected race, it requires an announcer. Spike, filled with excitement after his commentary throughout the Iron Pony competition, can't wait.

Pinkie has other ideas in mind.

Published 2013-07-27 23:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-27 23:40:02 UTC

Running Commentary

“Twilight, hurry up! We’re gonna be late for the race!” Spike bounced up and down on Twilight’s back, clutching a small stick as if his life depended on it.

“Why are you so excited about the race?” asked Twilight. “It’s only for ponies.”

“Yeah, but I’m hoping that I can be the announcer again.” Fresh memories of the Iron Pony contest were still at the forefront of Spike’s mind; the roar of the crowd, hanging on his every word. “Just listen.” Spike cleared his throat, and then bellowed in deep tones, using his stick as a pretend microphone. “Fillies and Gentlecolts! Welcome to the annual running of the-”

“WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL RUNNING OF THE LEAVES!” A voice boomed through the skies, drowning out Spike’s words. “This is Pinkie Pie, your official p-eye in the sky announcer!”

The pair looked skywards to see Pinkie herself sitting in a large purple hot air balloon, yelling into a megaphone attached to the side. As she drifted slowly upwards, Spike threw his stick away in disgust.

“Sorry Spike,” said Twilight. “I guess that job’s already taken.”

“As everypony knows,” continued Pinkie, oblivious to Spike’s distress, “the Running’s a very important tradition. Without it, the autumn leaves of Equestria would never fall! So get ready ponies, the Running of the Leaves will begin in five minutes!”

Slowly, the ponies started to assemble at the start line, Applejack and Rainbow Dash among them and glaring daggers at each other. There wasn’t much time to let their bitterness grow however, as their brief but cruel banter was interrupted by fanfare and Pinkie’s echoing voice.

“Racers, please take your positions!”

As the runners organised themselves along the line, Spike made his way to Pinkie’s hovering balloon, rubbing his claws together nervously. “Um, Pinkie Pie?”

“Hey Spike, what’s up? Oh wait, it’s me! I’m up!” She fell into a fit of laughter at her ‘joke’.

“Uh, yeah, uh... I know you're doing the announcing today and stuff, and I'm sure you're gonna do a great job and all, but... I was just wondering...”

“What?” asked Pinkie, with an innocent smile.

“Uh...” Spike weighed his desire against his dignity, and unfortunately his dignity won. No matter how much he wanted to commentate, he couldn’t take Pinkie’s obvious enthusiasm away from her. She clearly wanted this as much as he did, and it wouldn’t be fair to steal it from her. “Forget it.” Spike’s shoulders slumped, and he turned away. Before he could take a step however, Pinkie called out to him.

“Spike, would you like to be my co-reporter?” Her voice was almost accusing, as if disappointed he hadn’t just asked her. “We could comment on the action together!”

Newfound hope in his eyes, Spike spun back round. “We could!?”

In response, Pinkie threw a rope down at his feet, trailing back up to the balloon’s basket. “Climb on up!”

***

Back at the start line, the ponies were ready. Some shifted nervously from foot to foot, others pawed at the ground. A few were still, scanning the horizon that they’d soon be barreling towards at full speed. Twilight stood with a calm smile next to Applejack and Rainbow Dash, both of whom were angrily digging their hooves into the dirt. Everybody was eager for the race to begin, and Pinkie and Spike had no intention of keeping them waiting. Pinkie had even handed Spike an actual microphone; a proper announcing one that was hooked up to the same megaphone Pinkie had been shouting into. It was a bit of a leap from the stick he'd had previously.

Spike had ridden in the balloon plenty of times before, so the height and gentle swaying weren’t off-putting. He had to admit Pinkie had the right idea; the view was phenomenal, and with the megaphone there was no chance of their commentary being missed by the ponies below.

“Alright ponies,” said Pinkie. “Are you ready!?”

“Get set!” shouted Spike, filled with anticipation. The runners braced themselves, and Spike smacked the megaphone with an extended claw, producing a perfect bell ring. With a thunder of hooves, the race began, creating a maelstrom of dust and leaves as the ponies threw themselves at the track with abandon.

Pinkie jumped up to the megaphone “AAAAAAAAND THEY’RE OFF!”

***

With Spike manning the balloon controls and setting it on its course, Pinkie took over the start of the actual commentary. “Welcome to the official coverage of the running of the leaves! You know Spike, despite its name, the leaves don't do any of the actual running! No, that's left to My Little Ponies.”

Spike gave her a sidelong glance. “Why... uh, yes, Pinkie. It's the running of the ponies that causes the leaves to fall.”

“UGH, those lazy, lazy leaves. But this year, the run is about more than the weather. It's about the race to the finish, and the two runners that want to win it: Applejack, and Rainbow Dash.”

“You know Pinkie, these two ponies have a bit of a grudge match they're trying to settle: trying to prove who's the most athletic,” said Spike, glad for the end of her nonsensical statements.

“Yes, and grudge rhymes with fudge.”

He had clearly spoken too soon. “Yes it... does...” Spike lowered his voice. “What?”

“And I like fudge! But if I eat too much fudge I get a pudge and then I can’t budge!”

“So... no fudge?” he asked, trying desperately to keep a hold on the conversation.

“Aw, no thanks. I had a big breakfast.” Spike gave up. Thankfully Pinkie seemed to be paying attention to the actual race. “Let's check in with our two competitive ponies, Applejack and Rainbow Dash! Having come fast out of the gate, Applejack and Rainbow Dash are evenly matched, running neck and neck. But what's this? Applejack is making a move! She's now ahead by a nose! But Rainbow Dash won't let Applejack have it and takes the lead! She’s ahead by half a nose. Or maybe three-quarters of a nose. No! About sixty-three point seven percent of a nose!” Spike frowned, making Pinkie blush slightly. “...roughly speaking. Applejack sees this move and plunges forth with her strong workhorse legs, leaping ahead by THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY NOSES!”

Spike felt a sudden brush against his leg. Pinkie had moved a hoof to his front and was caressing his thigh, rubbing against the smooth scales. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Spicing up the commentary! You can’t pretend this isn’t making everything more exciting!” Her hoof moved to his crotch, and Spike’s eyes widened. He leapt up to the edge of the basket, away from her prowling hooves.

“H-hold your horses, Pinkie!” Spike realised he’d accidentally shouted that into his microphone, and had to quickly analyse the race to give it context. “Rainbow Dash is catching up to frontrunner Applejack!”

“What an upset!” Pinkie seemed completely unconcerned about the prior events. “I thought Applejack had this in the bag!”

Unnoticed by the racers below, she gave Spike a sultry look, and he gulped. What had got her like this?

“Psst, Spike,” she whispered. “You might want to jump back in here. Your... thing is showing.”

Spike panicked, dropping into the basket like a stone. Sure enough, Pinkie’s touches and obvious interest had left him standing proudly to attention. Small in stature though he was, dragons had never been known for being under-endowed, and Spike was no exception. Pinkie eyed his hardness greedily, lightly resting a hoof against it.

“See?” she murmured. “Isn’t this more fun?”

“Pinkie, I...” His voice trailed off as Pinkie began to stroke his shaft, a playful smile on her face, staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“It’s a funny shape,” she told him, inspecting his member while Spike simply lay there and enjoyed the new sensations. “Stallions are a lot less... pointy. And obviously mares don’t have them at all! Which is a shame because they always seemed like they’d be fun to play with.” She grinned. “Not that mares don’t get anything interesting.”

“I think we... we should get back to the...” Spike tried to put up more of a fight, but it was difficult with Pinkie toying with him like that. Her other hoof joined the first, and now he was clutching the floor of the basket as her hooves pressed against him. How was she so good at this? Spike tried not to think about all the ponies she must have done this to, preferring instead to just let her guide him towards inevitable orgasm.

“Hey, do you think they can hear us on the megaphone?” whispered Pinkie.

Spike was surprised to find that idea was less unpleasant than he’d thought it would be. Perhaps he was just past caring, but there seemed to be more to it that. Some kind of excitement at the possibility of being caught. Spike realised that actually turned him on even more, and Pinkie seemed to echo those desires by increasing her speed, bringing him ever closer to the edge. And then, just as quickly as they had arrived, her hooves withdrew, leaving him panting slightly as he began to take in the world around him once more. He gave her a pleading look, but Pinkie shook her head.

“Not yet, there’s still a lot of the race to go. So come on Mr. Commentator; do some commentating!”

Spike clambered up to the side of the basket, his legs weak and shaking slightly from how close he had been. He was just in time to see Applejack make an incredible charge from the rear of the race all the way back to the front. Spike steadied his voice and spoke to the crowd again. “I don’t believe it!” (He most certainly didn’t.) “After a huge setback, Applejack is back at the front of the pack!”

“She’s the head of the pack alright! The pick of the litter! The cat’s pyjamas! Oh wait! Why would Applejack take some poor kitty’s PJs? That’s not very sporting of her.”

Spike wondered how such a naive pony could be so talented at what she just did to him. “Ooooookaaaaaay... L-let’s get back to the race.”

***

“Welcome back Ponyvilleans! It’s me, Pinkie Pie!”

“And Spike!” (who was very grateful Pinkie hadn’t tried anything else.) “Looks like Rainbow’s doing her best to catch up!”

“I’m not sure how ketchup is going to help her in this contest... Now, in a hot dog eating contest, it can make them doggies nice and slippery, but personally? I prefer mustard. How about you Spike?”

“Uh... I like... Pickles?”

“Aaaaaaaaand, it looks like Applejack has found herself in quite a pickle as Rainbow overtakes her!”

Spike took her aside, making sure they wouldn’t be broadcasting. “What are you talking about? Hot dogs? Seriously?”

“Well you’re the one who brought up ketchup.”

“Catch up! I said Catch U- hey!”

Pinkie’s head darted downwards as he spoke, and before Spike could react, she’d taken his still-hard member into her mouth.

“Are you really doing this now?” It was a stupid response, but he was finding it difficult to focus. Spike’s claws hovered above her head, torn between pulling Pinkie away or just leaving her warm, wet mouth around him. Her tongue lapped against his cock, running along his shaft in broad strokes. It was all a bit much for Spike; this was the first time anypony had done anything like this to him. There was that one time that Applejack had asked for a hand testing some new machinery, but it hardly compared.

“Mmph mmph mmph mmmphmmmph,” said Pinkie, still giving his erection her full attention.

“I... huh?”

Pinkie pulled back and wiped her mouth. “I said, you should keep talking. Otherwise ponies might start wondering what we’re doing up here.” She grinned before diving back onto his cock, taking him even deeper into her throat.

Spike gasped and gripped the sides of her head; he couldn’t help it. His claws ran through her frizzy mane, clutching at it, and Pinkie giggled around him. Trying to keep his cool, which was much easier said than done with Pinkie doing that to him (the sounds she was making weren’t helping either), Spike spoke into his microphone. “As the racers enter Equestria’s Whitetail Wood, Rainbow Dash is back in the lead!”

That was the last he could manage for a while. He noticed Pinkie’s shoulder moving, and had he followed her leg down he would have seen it end between her hindquarters, roughly rubbing herself. However, nothing could keep his attention for too long. He kept coming back to the fact that Pinkie was between his legs, staring up at him, her eyes locked with his.

And no matter how wonderful it felt, or how long Spike wanted it to go on for, even in his innocence he knew what that inevitable rising feeling was. “P-Pinkie,” he stammered. “I’m not gonna last much longer...”

He’d expected her to stop, to let him finish on his own, but instead she continued with even more enthusiasm than before, pushing him quickly to orgasm. He came deep into her mouth, until Pinkie couldn’t help but move her head back from the sheer ferocity in a dragon’s climax. His final spurts blasted over the side of the basket, falling to the ground below.

“Wow!” said Pinkie. “I didn’t think you were ever gonna stop! Dragons are definitely more fun than stallions!”

Spike was incapable of much more than a non-committal moan.

“Shouldn’t that be going down now?” she asked, pointing between his legs.

“Why... Why would it go down after just once?” he asked.

Pinkie’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Jackpot,” she whispered, too quietly for Spike to hear.

***

Really? I mean, REALLY?

Twilight wiped her hoof against the ground, hoping she’d gotten all of it off. The one day she decides to get out of the library and a passing bird thinks it would be hilarious to do that right on her head.

“Ugh.”

She ran a magic spell over her hair, clearing out whatever mess was left. Twilight wondered what on earth that bird had been eating. It couldn’t have been healthy to create something so sticky.

***

“Applejack!? What are you doing up here?” Pinkie’s voice startled Spike back into a standing position, and he leapt up to the side of the basket to come face to face with Applejack standing atop a high ledge.

Come to think of it, what was she doing up here? “There aren’t even any trees!” he pointed out.

“Uh, no, but the signs pointed this way...” AJ’s voice trailed off as she came to the obvious conclusion. “Rainbow!” That damn pegasus must have switched the signs. “Mind giving me a lift?” she asked Pinkie.

Spike started to decline, there was no way he wanted her in the balloon while he was still in his... predicament, but Pinkie had already stretched out a hoof. “Welcome aboard!”

“Thanks y’all.” As Applejack clambered into the basket, Spike kept himself held tightly against the side, hoping she wouldn’t notice his prominent arousal. “Hey now, what’ve you two been up to in here? Smells kinda funny.”

“Oh... uh... Nothing!” Spike couldn’t have been less convincing if he tried.

“Uhuh.” Applejack scrunched up her mouth in disbelief. Fortunately for Spike, she had other things to be worrying about. “Ah’ll take yer word fer it. Now if ya don’t mind, ah’d really like to get back to the race.”

“On it!” yelled Pinkie, and the balloon began to move as urgently as a hot air balloon can, so an aggressive floating.

***

“Appreciate the lift. Y’all have fun now!” Applejack shot Spike a knowing wink before sliding down the rope towards the race.

“I must say Spike, that this has been the most interesting Running of the Leaves in Equestria history!” said Pinkie, speaking into the megaphone once more.

Spike had to agree, though not in the way most ponies would. “With the most interesting announcing,” he muttered.

“But it isn’t the running that’s been fascinating,” continued Pinkie. She paused just long enough to concern Spike before finishing her sentence. “It’s the lack of running!”

Spike breathed a sigh of relief, which Pinkie heard.

“Silly, did you think I was going to tell them?” she asked. “Don’t worry your little head about it; what happens in the balloon stays between you and me.” Pinkie paused. “And maaaaybe Applejack.”

Spike winced at her giggles, before realisation sent a cold shiver down his spine. “Why did you say happens, and not happened?”

Pinkie frowned. “Why? Did you think we were finished? I mean, you haven’t even done anything to me yet.” The balloon swayed slightly as she spoke, adding another ominous layer to her words.

“I-” Spike stopped dead as Pinkie spun round and lifted her tail. It was the first time he’d ever seen a mare that close. Clearly their exploits in the balloon hadn’t just been for Spike’s benefit; Pinkie’s excitement was obvious even from where Spike was sitting. The musky scent of her arousal filled the air, and Spike’s resolve quickly weakened. Dragons are heavily influenced by instinct, and sexual desire is one of the strongest impulses to face.

Without even realising it, Spike had moved closer to her, and before he could truly process the chain of events that had led him there he’d pressed his snout up against her. Pinkie let out that sigh of fulfilment that only an aroused female can, spurring Spike on as his long reptilian tongue darted out from between his teeth.

Pinkie was hardly inexperienced at this, but this was a new experience even for her. Stallions could only ever reach just past her opening, and until now she’d assumed that was enough. Spike’s tongue was quickly proving her wrong. It may have been thinner than a pony’s, but what it lacked in width it made up for in length and pure dexterity. Rather than the long strokes she was used to, it flicked around inside her, seemingly pressing against everywhere at once; caressing her inner walls while still managing to run up against her far more sensitive entrance. Occasionally Spike would lick against her clitoris, gently circling it. Pinkie couldn’t help but shudder when he did.

If he’s this good now, imagine how he’ll be once he’s got some practice in...
Pinkie’s mouth hung open, the occasional gasp escaping her lips thanks to his meticulous treatment. No area was left unattended, and she felt the first crests of impending orgasm blooming.

Spike let his body do what came naturally. At first his tongue’s motions had been probing, exploratory, but as he became attuned to Pinkie’s body his method grew more focused. He’d noticed almost subconsciously the way her body tensed under certain motions, and it was along those patterns his tongue glided, making Pinkie sigh in delight. Spike kept varying his speed and pressure, toying with her by drawing so close to the places she wanted him, only to dance tantalisingly around them. His tongue allowed him to tease her like that in several places at once. It was infuriating as much as it was arousing and Pinkie stomped a hoof, whether out of frustration or pleasure even she couldn’t tell. Finally Spike grew tired of his game, his slender tongue wrapping around her clit one final time, while the length inside her increased its pace, abandoning its former teasing in lieu of pressing against all her most sensitive regions simultaneously.

Pinkie’s climax hit her like a wall. She cried out from the hot intensity, her entire body on fire, every touch burning with ferocious heat. Light aftershocks ran through her as the pleasure slowly faded, and Pinkie mulled over how unfair it was that Spike was given such wonderful tools to play with. She’d been with plenty of mares over the years, and while Pinkie prided herself on her technique, there was no way she could ever hope to elicit that type of reaction.

Spike meanwhile was trying to recover from the surprise of Pinkie’s sudden orgasm. He wiped his chin, having not expected her to get so wet under his ministrations. And Pinkie definitely wasn’t done with him yet.

As she clambered to unsteady feet, she flicked his nose with her tail. He could still taste her on his lips, smell her on his scales, and the wild part of his psyche took full control.

He pressed his shaft up against her soaked opening, rubbing against the still-sensitive folds. Pinkie whimpered slightly, perhaps due to her prior orgasm, perhaps simply in desperate need. Regardless, Spike aligned himself properly and pushed forwards, sliding easily inside her.

As she took him inside, Pinkie couldn’t help but involuntarily tighten around Spike’s member, drawing him in deeper. Spike himself had reverted to something somewhat bestial. No longer a small, young library assistant, he was a dragon,full of raw power. His thoughts were of nothing but the need to rut Pinkie senseless, taking her as roughly as he could. The basket beneath them swayed as he thrust into her, and Pinkie let him be as dominant as he wanted. It was a far cry from the little “Spikey-Wikey” she knew, but at that moment it was a huge improvement. At some point, she wasn’t sure which, control had been passed from her to Spike. He was the one in charge, he was the one setting the pace, and Pinkie didn’t mind at all.

“We... Ah!” Pinkie tried to speak, only for Spike to drive in with an even more frenzied pace, cutting her off as his rough movements stopped her from thinking for a minute. “We need to keep talking. Otherwise... ah.... Otherwise the runners will know something’s up!”

Spike merely growled. Had he grown bigger? It seemed so to Pinkie, his claws gripping her waist tightly. There was no way he had that kind of reach before, was there? Regardless, someone had to keep the commentary going, or this would end up the talk of the town.

Pinkie peered back over the edge of the basket, eyeing the race. It was difficult to concentrate with Spike fucking her like that, but she did her best. “Once again Rainbow Dash and Applejack are neck and neck, jockeying for position. Applejack inches ahead, now it’s Rainbow- it’s Applejack. It’s Rainbow Dash. It’s Applejack!” The words tumbled out in frenetic pace, even more so than Pinkie’s usual excited tones allowed.

Beneath the balloon, unaware of the aerial events, the race was drawing to its dramatic conclusion. Rainbow Dash and Applejack both ran with their teeth gritted, determined frowns plastered to their foreheads. In an attempt to make up some ground, Rainbow suddenly jerked sideways, smashing into AJ and knocking her aside.

Even in his current position, Spike couldn’t resist piping up at that. “Oh no she didn’t!”

Applejack, quick to recover, reciprocated with a hectic charge into Dash’s flank.

“Oh yes she di-id!” Pinkie prided herself on that one. It sounded almost normal; the spectators would have no idea how close she was to her second consecutive orgasm.

The racers entered the final straight in a huge throng, and Spike’s thrusts became erratic as he grew near to his climax. The pitched battle below reached a height, Applejack and Rainbow Dash rolling towards the finish line in a cloud of fighting and curse words.

“It’s Applejack!” Pinkie bashed her hoof against the basket in a mixture of excitement for the race and her impending peak.
“It’s Rainbow Dash!” Here it comes.
“IT’S APPLEJACK!” she screamed, pleasure soaring through her once again as Spike’s member pulsed inside her, finally blasting his seed into her, leaving her so blissfully full.
“IT’S RAINBOW DASH!” Barely able to shout that coherently, Pinkie let her limbs go limp; out of breath, out of strength, out of the ability to do anything other than collapse backwards on top of Spike, her warm body lying against his.

And unnoticed by the pair that should have been paying the most attention, the Running of the Leaves ended.

***

Dash broke free from Applejack after they rolled across the line, looking about herself stupidly for a second. “...I won!”

Applejack glared at her. “No, I won!”

“I won!”

“You tied!” Spike, newly recovered and feeling very pleased with himself, beamed down from the low-hovering balloon.

“TIED!?” shouted Applejack and Rainbow simultaneously. They couldn’t believe that after all they had gone through there was still no clear winner. Even worse, there was something about the way Spike told them that irked Applejack.

“For first?” she asked, trepidation in her voice.

Pinkie confirmed her fears. “For last!” she told them, her voice as bubbly as ever. However, behind her cheery facade she was very glad that AJ and Dashie couldn’t see inside the basket; her legs still shook slightly, and the strong smell of both her and Spike’s climaxes hung in the air.

“Then, who won?” asked Dash. Twilight chose that exact moment to walk past with a golden medal displayed proudly on her chest. The unicorn would forever treasure the look on their faces.

***

On the ground, Celestia herself was making an appearance, talking with the racers. Up in the balloon, things were taking on a far more interesting conclusion.

“We should do this again next time,” mumbled Spike, exhausted.

“Aww, who says we have to wait until next year?”

A warmth enclosed his shaft, and Pinkie sighed above him. Spike couldn’t help but feel this was going to be a long evening indeed.

Not that that was a bad thing.

Author's Note

Big thanks to Snakeking589 for the inspiration.