As I enter the donut shop, I hear the doorbell ring. It’s only one of many bells that are ringing tonight, what with it being Hearth’s Warming Eve and all. Still, it’s a pleasant sound.

“Hey, Spike,” says the burly chef behind the counter. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight, not that I’m complaining.”

“Evenin’, Dunkin,” I reply. “How about a maple bar and an apple fritter? I’m feeling a little saucy.”

“Keep a tab on that,” he says as he ducks away. “I got a big order to put together, I’ll just be a second.”

Well, I suppose my craving will have to wait for a bit. I take a seat in one of the booths and stretch out, taking off my beanie cap and letting my spines out.

The only other person here is Lyra, who offers me a friendly wave when I look her way. She’s chilling out by the counter. I can guess she’s the one who made the big order. Going by tradition, she and Bon Bon must be having a romantic movie night to celebrate this holiday of family and friendship. Ten years married, and they’re still so enthusiastic about their love life? They’ve got it made.

If it were any other Hearth’s Warming Eve, I would probably be sitting at the dinner table next to Twilight right now. We’d be telling jokes, she’d probably babble for a half-hour straight about some new chemical equation she discovered in her private laboratory, and I’d listen as closely as possible because I love her and I’d be a total jerk to not try and understand what a big deal said discovery is to her… Anyway, we’d have fun eating the dinner we had spent all day preparing.

It’d be all of our favorite foods, too. Three layer nachos, fruit salad, tomato basil quiche, mini hayburgers (Twilight guzzles them like a vacuum. A vacuum that really freakin’ loves hayburgers), butter-meltingly warm cornbread, scalloped potatoes, discorded eggs, croissants with cranberry sauce, and, just for me, a plate of arranged gemstones.

Instead, tonight will consist of a maple bar, an apple fritter, and a dull half-glazed Hearth’s Warming Eve with disappointment flavored filling, because Twilight had to be called into Canterlot this morning. Apparently there’s some sort of new ‘magical subrace’ in Equestria that the princesses have to discuss, and nopony else is allowed in on the matter… I don’t even care what this subrace is, I’m so disappointed.

Dunkin comes by with my order in hand and drops it off, along with a third donut; a cinnamon frosted one. “Here you go, kid. A third on the house, since you’re lookin’ so crummy.”

It’s only now that I realize I’m slouching in the corner of the booth. “Huh?” I grunt, sitting back up. “Uh, thanks, dude…” I hand him a few bits and start eating the maple bar.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, kid,” Dunkin says, smiling broadly at me as he goes back to the counter.

“Hey, honey!” I hear Dunkin’s wife shout from the back room. “Could you put the spare dough in the freezer? I gotta take out the garbage before closing time!”

“Coming, dear,” Dunkin chortles as he take his leave.

Did she say closing time? Huh. I must have lost track before I left home. I guess I’ll have to find some place to crash without intruding on anypony’s Hearth’s Warming Eve. I don’t want to spend the night alone in that cold-ass tree. That’d just be pathetic.

I wonder what the apples are up to? They usually have room for one more in the farmhouse. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I slept on the their couch and left in the morning.

Rumble’s probably spending his Hearth’s Warming Eve alone, as per usual. I wonder if he’d like a friend tonight? Choices, choices, choices…

I have a curious look around the donut shop again. Lyra just finished up paying, and she’s gleefully walking away with her box of donuts under her arm. She waves to me as she skips out the door.

Okay, so, I suppose I’ll just close my eyes and pick between the apple fritter and the cinnamon donut. If I pick the former, I’ll go to Sweet Apple Acres. If I pick the latter, I’ll go see what Rumble is up to.

I cover my eyes with one hand and grab the wrapping of one of the donuts with the other. I bring it up to my mouth and start to take a bite. I slowly open my eyes to see which flavor I ended up picking…

“Cupcake?”

I’m greeted with a set of wide blue eyes set in the face of a certain pink party pony we all know and love, causing me to jump back against the window and drop whatever donut I was holding. Whichever one it was, I’ll never know, because Pinkie Pie ends up catching it in the air with her mouth and swallowing it whole. I’m not even mad. That’s impressive.

“Hey, Pinkie…” I mutter, rubbing the back of my head. “Nice outfit.”

As per usual, Pinkie’s wardrobe can be described as the adorably unholy result of spilling an artist’s palette over a clearance aisle, but somehow, she makes it work. Her striped shirt and vest hug her curves perfectly, and I can really dig her miniskirt and red leggings.

Pinkie doesn’t seem interested in my compliment. She seems more focused on me, flattening herself on the booth chair and resting her cheeks in her hands. “Now, what is a handsome dragon like you doing all alone on a night like this? Because that is all sorts of illogical.”

I find it hard to comprehend that she just said that. But I answer her anyway, since she’s apparently fascinated with me at the moment. “You heard about Twilight’s emergency summoning, right?”

"Well, duh! That filly's got some lungs on her, I tell ya! Half of the town probably knew about the new subrace by the time she left!" Pinkie giggles at the thought, before leaning in conspiratorily. "I heard Lyra's started a bet that they're centaurs. But Carrot Top says it's a new species of seaponies! I think that's just silly.”

“That’s what I told Twilight,” I say.

Pinkie nods quickly “I know! I mean, It's so obvious that they're space ponies."

"Uh… what?"

She pouts, crossing her arms and pushing her breasts out in a most distracting way. "Well, we already have earth ponies, and sky ponies, and magic ponies, and the seaponies aren't a 'new' subrace, so the only place left is space!" We sit there in silence for a few seconds, until she tilts her head back a bit. "Unless they're demon ponies from Tartarus. But then wouldn't we already know they exist? How wouldn't we if they're in the prison of Divine's Wrath?"

Alright, if she wants to play this game, then I may as well play along. I sit back up, again, and raise my pointer claw. "That's assuming that this subrace is even from this plane of reality."

Pinkie Pie hops up and clasps her hands together. "Oooooh! Then what do you think they are, Spikey-Wikey?"

I lean back in my seat and glance down to see that Pinkie's already eaten my other two treats. "Maybe they're muffinmares?"

"Ponies made of muffins?!" she cries out in shock, before getting a hungry glint in her eye. "I wonder how I'd taste if I were a muffin..."

“Obviously you’d taste delicious. Muffins taste delicious, don’t they?” I ponder another possibility of a subrace. It’s obvious that nothing we come up with could possibly exist, or be a cause for a summoning, but it is fun to let the imagination go wild. "It could be intelligent zomponies who, despite their undead appearance, just want to live a normal life."

Pinkie Pie taps her chin. "But that would require them coming from some crazy spacefuture world after a cataclysmic event! Maybe it's a flutterpony?"

"You mean like the breezies? I wonder if there's other creatures from their home dimension..." That place is so bright and colorful, I’d swear Pinkie Pie had absorbed its essence years ago. Or, at least her clothing did.

Pinkie Pie continues looking at me, her eyes perpetually wide and happy as the rest of her. Taking into account that she hasn’t done squat except talk to me since she got here, I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to. “So, what brings you to this neck of Ponyville? I thought you were hosting some small bar party.”

Her eyes flash sinisterly, like a villain's glasses from a cheesy action flick. "Ohoho, my dear Spikey, I just knew that there was another friend out there that needed cheering up, and who would I be to make them wait?" She smiles, just the tiniest twitch to it, as she continues. "Besides, leeeaving-a-party is oookay when-everypony's-having-fun!" She sighs, sagging a bit, before bouncing back up. "So! Let's say you and me get our soiree butts outta here, and have ourselves our own party!"

“Huh-what?” I do a double take as Pinkie Pie rolls backwards out of the booth and somehow ends up standing. “You wanna hang? Just clarifying, because… uh...” I brush my spines and chuckle out of embarrassment. “You kinda had perfect timing.”

"'A pie always knows when it's time, so a pie is never late!' My granny told me that when she helped me bake my first lemon meringue." She starts humming at the memory. "I wasn't as good as I am now, but it's still the first thing I ever baked."

I get out of the booth, taking my beanie off the counter and stuffing it in my pocket. “The first thing I ever baked was a peach cobbler. The edges were bone dry, and not in the good, crispy way. I mean, making your teeth hurt dry.”

Pinkie Pie leaps into the air, like she usually does when she gets a sudden idea. “You know, I think I have just the right ingredients for a pretty picture perfect peach cobbler back at Sugarcube Corner.” She takes my hands. “We should totally do some late night baking, just you and me. Late night tasty treats!”

I nod enthusiastically, suddenly overwhelmed with glee that this night isn’t going to be a total disaster. Good food with one of my closest friends? I could think of worse ways to spend Hearth’s Warming Eve. “That sounds truly terrific. I just have one question for you.” I drop my smile and put on a serious face. I ask Pinkie Pie, “Dragon express?”

Pinkie blinks twice. “Dragon express?”

“Dragon express!” I shout, seizing Pinkie’s arms and pulling her towards me. I turn around, and just as Pinkie rams into me, I grab her hips and lift her up. Her legs wrap around my midsection and her arms lock around my neck. She’s letting out her signature ever-lovable giggle all the while.

“Onward, mighty steed!” She points to the exit of the donut shop. I kick the door open and step out into the cold winter air.

"Dragon Express~!" I sing aloud grandly, before taking off at a full sprint, Pinkie shrieking and giggling all the while as we make our way to Sugarcube Corner. Even at full speed, though, the snow keeps hindering my progress, slowing us down to a steady jog.

The streets of Ponyville are mostly empty, and the snowfall is reducing visibility to just about nil. It makes it seem as though Pinkie and I are the only two ponies in the world, at least for the moment. It’s just us, goofing off as we make total mules out of ourselves.

I’m a worse mule for slipping on an ice patch and stumbling into the curb, greeting a lump of snow with my face. I pull my head out of the white. “Well, that was certainly my proudest moment,” I snark, looking around for Pinkie Pie. “Where’d you go?”

Her face comes into view, only it’s upside down. I look up to see she’s hanging upside down from a lamppost. “Hi,” she says with a giggle.

"Gee, first you pull me away from the donuts, and now you're poledancing?"

"Pole what?" she asks as she starts twirling around the horizontal bar. "I'm pole vaulting!" She lets go suddenly, propelling herself up to the second floor window of Sugarcube Corner, then looks down at me. "The front door's locked, so come on up!"

“Why’s it locked?”

“To keep out burglars, silly!”

“And you don’t have the keys?”

“What do I look like? The gatekeeper?”

I shake my head, grinning as I say, "You're crazy, you know that?" I spread my wings and leap into the air. All it takes is a single wingbeat to get me up to Pinkie’s level. She grabs my arms and, in an oddly impressive feat of strength, pulls me up to the window.

I have to shuffle around a bit to get in a comfortable position, but I have to admit, this isn’t half bad. It’s nice and cozy up on this perch. And Pinkie Pie is just smiling away, as per usual. One thing that I never get tired of with her is that she’s able to find enjoyment in almost everything she does, and that’s her most infectious trait. All we’ve done is walk from one place to another, and I’m having the time of my life. She even made getting into the house itself an adventure.

“Hearth’s Warming Eve with the living incarnation of fun… This should be an experience,” I mutter. “So, what would you like to do?”

“Get inside where it’s warm, for one.” Pinkie Pie knocks on the window and pulls it up. She slithers inside like a snake and gets back up instantly. “Come on, Spikey-Wikey!”

I duck my head and crawl inside to Pinkie Pie’s bedroom. The place seems roomier than usual, but I think I know why. Ever since Pumpkin and Pound Cake got their own room, Pinkie has had full run of this place. It’s pretty sparse without any toys littering the ground.

I make sure to shut the window behind me to prevent a draft. The instant the window hits the frame, I start to feel warm again. I know it’s one hell of a winter when I can actually feel the cold, and desire such warmth. It means I can finally get out of these clothes, which are all wet with melted snow.

“Just throw your clothes anywhere,” Pinkie says as she sits down on her bed and removes her shoes.

I take off my jacket and hoodie and lay them out in the corner to dry. Unfortunately, I’m left in a predicament when I realize that my shirt is soaked too. Well, this could get awkward... “Uh, Pinkie? I’m in a situation where either my shirt gets all messed up, or I go shirtless for a while. Is that okay?”

“Go ahead, take it off,” she says in her usual tone as she gets off the bed. “There’s nothing weird about getting comfortable.” In a bizarre act that makes me step back a little, Pinkie approaches me and grabs the folds of my shirt. I automatically lift up my arms as she peels the wet cloth off of my chest and over my head.

As if this wasn’t already awkward enough, the remaining moisture makes my scaled muscles slick and shiny in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"See? Now relax!"

I'm not relaxed. At all. I'm starting to get really not-relaxed, in fact.

Seeing this, Pinkie frowns and bends over. "I know what the problem is!" she declares, as she pulls off her leggings with a hop. "You're not comfortable..." With a twirl, her jacket and shirt go flying off, the shirt landing in a clothes hamper and the jacket smacking into a hanger in the closet. "...because I'm still wearing..." Now in just a tank top (and I mean just; she's a free spirit, that's for sure) and skirt, she shucks the skirt off too, before I can avert my eyes, to show that she's wearing a pair of well-fitting undershorts that hug her waist but don't chafe her thighs. "...too much! There we go!" She gives a small jump, and her breasts follow her a second after. "I'd go shirtless like you are, but Mrs. Cake said that she doesn't like that sort of thing. I wonder why?”

“I can’t possibly imagine,” I mutter, amazed I’m able to form a complete sentence.

She does have a point, though. Seeing her act utterly shameless about her curvy body and large, buoyant breasts pretty much kills anything embarrassing about being shirtless in front of her. I guess I’m more modest than I realized.

“Well, now I’ve got a different problem,” I mention. While I’m at least seventy-two percent sure I know the gist of what Pinkie Pie’s answer is gonna be, I still think it’s necessary to bring this up, considering I’ll just come off as a huge creep if I bring it up later. “Will it be okay if I sleep in my underwear?”

"Sleep?" She looks genuinely confused, but her eyes are too wide-eyed and innocent, as per usual, for me to take it at face value.

"Yeah, sleep. Since my clothes are pretty much toast and the weather's trying to bust down the door?"

Pinkie smiles, swaying her hips as she rocks back and forth. "But why would you sleep in your underwear?"

Make that eighty-three. That wink, and the way she waggles her tongue, those are obvious... but could just be her being silly. "Because it's more comfortable than wearing borked pants to bed."

Her eyes and smile light up like a pinball machine. "Then why don't ya just go without your underwear, too?"

Ninety-nine percent.

With a dismissive shrug, Pinkie points towards the door. “We’ll worry about it later. To the kitchen, for peach cobbler awaits us!"

You can plan ahead all you like, but the law of the universe dictates that your plans, like my snow soaked pants, may or may not end up totally borked. Sometimes life throws you a curveball, and you’ll have to switch out your old plans for something equally good. It probably won’t be what you expect, but if you let go of sentiment for a little bit and appreciate the unexpected…

My point is, there’s nothing wrong with expecting peach cobbler and getting cappuccino muffins instead.

I lean back against the kitchen counter as I down the last bit of hot cocoa. I hear the oven’s buzzer go off. It catches me by surprise and makes me shake, dropping the cup. I catch it with the edge of my wing. “Whoops!”

“Nice catch!” Pinkie compliments, leaning over the counter.

"Yeah? Fluttershy taught me that." I lift the mug back up to my lips, before setting it on the counter. "She's got way finer muscle control than Dash does; she can use her primary feathers like little fingers without having to think about it. It's pretty cool."

"Wow, I didn't know Fluttershy was so talented! Didja learn all that while takin' flying lessons?" Pinkie sets a tray of muffins on the counter, kicking the oven shut with a snap, and reaching past me to grab my mug for a refill.

"They weren't so much 'lessons' as they were 'pointers.' I got ahold of the basics by watching Rainbow Dash teach Scootaloo, way before I even got my wings. Fluttershy just filled in the blanks for me in exchange for some help with her yardwork."

“How very expository!” Pinkie says. After she hands me my refill, she starts setting out the muffins on a rack. “Okay, let’s give these bad boys a go.”

I take one of the smaller muffins. It’d be rude to snatch a big one from Ponyville’s resident sugar enthusiast. “Moment of truth.” I take a slow bite, just to savor what is inevitably going to be a million times better than any maple bar.

Aaaaaand I was right! The chocolate chips provide warmth to the soft yet firm bread, and the subtle bitter taste of the bread keeps the sweetness of the chocolate from being overwhelming. It’s perfect balance in the form of a pastry.

"Mmmm…!" Pinkie had tossed a whole one into her mouth, and already has her eyes set on another one. Reaching out with both hands, she grabs two as I take another savory bite.

"You know," I start, before taking a drink to clear my mouth. "You know, I'm not sure if a glorified coffee cake is what you need right now, you look like you've got enough energy to power Canterlot for a week."

Pinkie sticks her tongue out at me, before setting one of her two muffins on it and gulping it down. "No way! I live a super-duper active lifestyle! I have to to make sure I know where ponies aren't gonna be, but are about to be, so that I can better plan my surprise parties!" She eats her other muffin and reaches out for a fourth. "That takes a lot of effort!"

I feel bad for being surprised at this. Pinkie's always been a bit eccentric, sure, but she never dismissed somepony else's actions out of hand. "I always took that as Pinkie Pie just being Pinkie Pie," I say aloud, shrugging before taking another bite of muffin. "These are really good, by the way. Wish I had some topaz. The smoky, cinnamon-y taste would go great with these."

“Really?” Pinkie asks, moving a little bit closer to me. She takes another bite. For some reason, this one is slower, and more savory. She looks up at me with those impossibly wide eyes as she licks her lips. “Are there any gemstones that taste like chocolate?”

“Yeah, of course. Hematite is like milk chocolate. For dark chocolate, there’s black tourmaline…” I trail off when I notice a naughty bit of chocolate has escaped Pinkie’s mouth and has found a home on her cheek. It’s a blemish on her perfect complexion. “Uh, you’ve got a little…”

"Hmm?" She bats her eyelashes at me, her eyelids fluttering questioningly. She's leaning in so close to me that I can't point at my own lip to let her know, so instead I set down my hot chocolate and reach over.

"I’ll get it." As I finish wiping the goopy crumbs from her face, her eyes flick down to my claw. Then, she does something I’ve never seen her do before: She puts her food down.

Before I’m able to ask why she just did that, I get my answer. She grabs my wrist with one hand, then parts my claws with another. She sticks out her tongue and starts to lap up bits of chocolate from my pointer claw. She then turns my hand over, licking the rest off of my palm.

She doesn’t stop there. What started off as something weird yet innocent enough turns into something outright naughty when Pinkie takes two of my claws into her mouth and starts sucking.

"Uh," I manage rather eloquently. Usually, when I’m in this kind of situation with a mare or stallion, it's because we’d agreed to it beforehand. Of course, I shouldn’t expect Pinkie to try and comprehend how her quirkier actions can affect somepony, but the way she's running her tongue along my fingers is just... "Woah," I croak, as she lets go with a wet pop.

But, if she’s going to be so forward about it, I may as well try to keep up. I only pause for a moment before I take ahold of her arm and pull her in, closing the small distance between us. When she collides with me, I bring my hands to her cheeks and meet her lips with mine for a sudden spicy kiss.

I can taste chocolate and coffee off of her tongue, but it’s made all the sweeter because it’s from her mouth. There’s something else in there as well…

I moan into the kiss before pulling away, the spiciness not just in my imagination. "Did you chug a bottle of Mule Kick hot sauce again?"

Pinkie giggles breathlessly, her eyes fluttering seductively. "Nooo, but I am wearing Liquid Rainbow chapstick. It's a bit spicy, but it beats carrying a bottle of hot sauce all the time!"

“Well, you taste good,” I say. It takes me a moment to realize how dirty that sounds. I cough into my fist a few times and try to save face. “I mean, ergh, it tastes good.” I make up for that little flub with a little tickle of one of Pinkie’s almost overly luscious legs, specifically her thigh. Then I rub my palm along the exposed portion of her, for lack of a better way to describe, perfectly rotund ass. I mean, sweet Celestia. I could bounce a volleyball of of this beauty.

Pinkie keeps giggling between touches of my claws and the interspersed kisses on her cute little muzzle. This is happening, and I can only really describe it as an indecisive threeway scale of cute, sexy, and just plain unusual. Hopefully Pinkie and I will find a middle ground by the end of the night.

“So, I believe there was some mention of a private party?” I ask, laying on the smoulder.

"Depends on what you'd consider 'private,'" she moans into our next kiss. "Wanna play in the party room, or take see what Pinkie's got in her little ol' toy box?"

One of those sounds very hurty. “Uh… Whichever one involves you and me taking the rest of these muffins upstairs, because I feel like I need to get a little more comfortable.” I tug at Pinkie Pie’s tank top as I say that.

"To the toy box, and my room, it is!" She declares with a regal trill. Scooping up the remaining muffins, she skips and hops up the stairs, and I clamber up after her, feeling so confused and aroused right now.

Oh, and by the way, one hundred percent.

Pinkie Pie doesn't even give me a moment's relaxation on the bed. Just as I sit down, she hops onto my lap, smothering me in a long, open mouthed kiss. She keeps doing that. Just as I think I have a moment to breathe, she sticks her lips in my face again. Not that I'm complaining.

Her aforementioned sweet ass is the real pleasure giver in this position. She's grinding it into my boxer-briefs, slowly yet surely bringing up a certain sign of affection. As I grow harder, her body becomes increasingly harder to resist.

My mouth finally gets away from her lips long enough for me to talk. "So, what should we do first? Vanilla ice cream or, uh..." I glance over to the suspicious toy chest. "Rocky road?"

"We~ell," she starts, putting a hand to her chin. "Can you even make rocky road without vanilla?"

“Touché,” I whisper to her. I slip my fingers beneath the lining of her shorts. “So, how about we get these pesky things off of you?”

“Oh, Spike, you animal,” she growls playfully as she nibbles on one of my ears. A shiver goes down my spine as I pull her shorts down, caressing her voluptuous rear, kneading it until my hands pull away, my mouth moving from her neck, to her breasts, to her stomach, trailing kisses all the while as my hands slowly slide down her luscious legs and to her feet.

She giggles a bit as I swirl my tongue against the bared flesh of her hip, but when I drop her shorts, I trail my tongue up her body, pulling her tank top up, and stopping when I’ve uncovered her marvelous, plump tits. “Hang out often, or only when I’m around?” I ask her. She moans as I flick my tongue against her nipples, her hands pressing down on my shoulders as she tries to hold herself up.

“Sp-Spike! I-it’s not nice to te-ahh-tease!”

I smile at her, as even through her pouting façade I can see she’s loving it. I move my hands to her hips again, running my claws along her firm, jiggly butt as I start inching her panties down.

“You’re pretty wet,” I say, my voice deep and husky, “for a girl who doesn’t like to be teased...” As her panties reach her knees, I let go of them, running my hands up and down her sides as she shivers and moans, before grabbing her tank-top and pulling it over her head, and sliding it down those tantalizingly supple arms.

When I have her hands in mine, her tank-top tight in our joined grip, I pull her up and into a kiss, no less needy than before, and hook her panties with my tail, yanking them to her ankles as I push her towards the bed.

With a soft gasp, she lands on the covers, legs pulled up but leaving her pulsing pink pussy exposed, her eyes filled with excitement, trust, and even a little love. “You’ve really grown up, haven’t you, Spike?”

I’ve crawled onto the bed with her, looking down at her, her face still looking fit to burst in childish wonderment. “Yeah..?” I ask, nearly breathless as I hold myself from just ravaging this sexy pink minx. “Why, something on your mind?” I let my eyes roam down her body for a moment, before bringing them back to her face. Down, boy. Wait till she says go.

She looks away, a small frown on her face. “Do you think... Am I still childish?”

I let out the most draconic growl I’ve ever made as I bring my lips to hers, in what becomes a battle to the breath between our twisting tongues.

“Pinkie...” I manage to say as my muscles tense and relax, feeling an almost primal rage at holding back... which just makes it all the more delicious. “What’s that gotta do with anything? Your being playful?” I steal another kiss as I fondle her breasts near absent-mindedly. “You love playing. You love parties. But that doesn’t make ya childish, and I’m really going crazy here...” The end of my sentence is a throaty groan as I push my lips forwards again, and it seems that, for now, Pinkie’s content with my answer.

“Mmm, thank you, Spikey-Wikey.” She lays an oddly gentle kiss on my cheek, and again on my lips. Just for a moment, those primal instincts of mine fade away as my friend and I grope each other’s bodies and violate each other’s mouths with our tongues.

“I mean, come on.” I move away from Pinkie, getting on my knees. She looks so cute, the way she hugs her curvaceous figure. “There’s nothing wrong with embracing your inner child. Besides, if you tried to be anything less than, well, you…” I grab the lining of my boxer-briefs and start to pull down. My very apparent erection is making it difficult, though. “Ahem, hold on…”

Pinkie gets on her knees as well. Her breasts flatten against my chest as she presses herself against me, treating me to yet another wet kiss. This distracts me enough to get my hands away from my boxers, which leaves Pinkie free to grab them and slide them down my legs by herself.

“I… lost my train of thought,” I mutter clumsily as Pinkie pulls away from me.

With our bodies unclothed and unrestrained, what happens next is a disheveled scramble for dominance. I try to get Pinkie to fall onto her back with a subtle push, but she fights back by throwing her arms around my shoulders and forcefully pushing into me, sending me down instead. As soon as I hit the covers of the bed, I roll over with Pinkie in tow and slam my hands to her arms and pin her. She smirks up at me. I don’t have time to react to her legs locking around my lower back. “Gotcha!”

"Damn you...!" Pinkie's legs are as strong as they are lengthy, and they have me a completely dead lock as Pinkie flips over, bringing me down onto the bed. I'm left disoriented after the collision. All I see when I turn over is a pink hourglass hopping onto me. Then my vision clears.

Pinkie claps her hands as she straddles my stomach. She hops up and down excitedly, though she’s thankfully careful not to put all her weight on me. “Give up yet?” she chirps.

I narrow my eyes at her challengingly as I flex my arms and chest against her thighs. "Give up? I'm a dragon, Pinkie," I say as my tail flops free from beneath me. "Dragons don't give up. We keep at it until we get what we want!" I throw my shoulders and head up, sending her backwards between my legs as I sit up on the bed, my tail wrapping around her wrists.

I purr at her, laughter dancing through my voice, as I lean in and whisper: "And what I really want is you." I try to make it menacing. I really do. But Pinkie's giggle fit as she leans into another kiss tells me I'm still not good at playing the bad guy.

"Well, I want you, Spike!" Pinkie declares as she wiggles her plump rump on my thick dick. She flutters her eyes at me again, holding one closed for a second as she tries to pout through her smile. "But I guess we can't give each other ourselves until Hearth's Warming, huh? It's no good to unwrap your gifts early, is it?"

She presses her lips to mine, and her memetic smile gets me to grin again. "Twilight always did say I was a naughty little drake." I press into her with another kiss, pulling her to the bed so I'm on top once more. Breaking the kiss to nuzzle her ear, I whisper, "I used to always open my presents long before she woke up." I pull away from Pinkie, and for what feels like the first time ever, Pinkie is completely calm and relaxed, a wide, loving smile on her face as I stop holding her down and move to kiss her breasts, then her stomach, and finally her thighs. I only stop to look up to her once more, just waiting for her to say the word.

"Go ahead, Spike," she says. "Open your present."

I hesitate only a second longer, expecting her to say more, before I kiss her lower lips.

The instant I come into contact with her, Pinkie sets off an unusually arousing fit of giggles and moans, seguing from the former into the latter without even stopping to take a breath. That’s only from my kisses; when I part my lips and give her a good lick, it somehow causes her to shake her legs. Pinkie Pie certainly thrills easily. If her reaction doesn’t make that clear enough, the nectar I feel on my lips does.

It almost makes me nervous to see what happens when her little nub is exposed. I test the waters with my thumb, which makes Pinkie tense up and fall onto her back with a definite shiver. She looks down at me and shows off an almost manic grin, putting down any worries; I thought, just for a second, that I had made her climax already.

With that out of the way, I go for it. I stick out my tongue, tracing the pink of Pinkie Pie until I reach the peak. Her sugarlump, to be crude.

I’m not all that surprised when Pinkie thrusts her pelvis into the air. I have to grope her thighs to keep ahold of her, and keep on licking. She stretches out her arms in all sorts of directions to cope. “Whee! Ahahaha! Keep doing that, mmm…” She licks her fingers and sucks on them, probably to calm herself.

“That feels good, huh?” I ask, pulling my lips away. I don’t leave her hanging; I put my central digits to work, feeling up her clit and insides while I give my mouth a break.

After a long pause, interspersed only with small, wet noises and the occasional moan, Pinkie stops sucking her fingers long enough to reply to me. “So good! Can’t you feel how wet I am?”

"Yeah," I say with a small chuckle. I push into Pinkie’s slit especially hard as I follow up her dirty talk. “So wet. We’re gonna have to do something about that, aren’t we?”

Pinkie nods rapidly.

I let go of Pinkie’s lower body and slither up her hourglass figure like the reptile that I am. I plant soft little licks and kisses along her pelvis, around her belly, along the curvature of her ample breasts, then settle my chin in her cleavage as I stare into her half-lidded eyes, my arms wrapping around her. I can feel the beads of sweat building on her fur.

With a little push on her back and a brush on her chest, I coax Pinkie into turning onto her side. As she tilts her head my way, she has a look of understanding and anticipation for whatever it is I’m about to do to her— with her. She cooperates with my actions perfectly as I clutch her from behind. My claws get a healthy handful of her chest, which I bathe in yet another series of licks. Pinkie giggles all the while, until I nuzzle her cheek.

“You’re a real hugger, aren’tcha?” she asks, as if it isn’t obvious. This is my chance to get close with a mare. I’m not just going to spend it just thrusting. I’m going to touch her, feel her, and make sure she knows her body is a freakin’ temple. Even Pinkie Pie, the ball of energy she is, deserves a slow embrace as my cock presses against her now inflated and moist lips.

As I push inside of Pinkie, her laughs and moans merge into a strange mixture that only she’d ever be able to make sexy, and as much as that turns me on, I can’t help but be distracted when I realize Pinkie isn’t as tight as I thought she’d be. I mean, good for her, but this wasn’t what I expected when I figured out I’d be having a private party with her.

A sweaty, balmy, touch-me-everywhere-I-want-to-feel-you-oh-goddesses-please kind of private party.

Even when I intensify my thrusting, I keep thinking to myself, because being inside of Pinkie, groping the adorable pudge of her raised leg, somehow brings out the thinker in me, because even in my dirtiest fantasies I never imagined myself in her bed, not that I’m complaining. I wonder if this is a usual offer of hers? Pinkie has more friends than anypony else could handle. What if she has a few of them set aside for ‘friends with benefits’?

I come to my answer while I engage Pinkie in a messy, kiss that wreaths our lips in saliva. No, Pinkie isn’t the sort of mare that would do favors. Word travels fast around Ponyville. I would have known about it. No, this is clearly something special. Just for me.

I stop thrusting, just for a moment, so I can ask her something. “So, how long is this little present for Spikey-Wikey going to last?” I growl at Pinkie, hissing into her ear and tickling her with my naughty forked tongue. After that, I pick up where I left off.

I hear a distinct murr coming off of her lips when she stops laughing. “Oooh…” And moaning. “It’s the party planner’s code. If the party is a sleepover, it’s courteous for the host to be the last one to go to bed.”

“Sooo…” My hand makes a little journey down her stomach, with my pointer claw tracing circles at her pelvis. “If I’m awake, you’re awake.”

I can feel her inner walls clamping down on my length. I figured that much would happen when I touched her clit again, but it’s incredible how eager she is, not just in mind, but in body as well. She’ll never say it, because it would go against her innocent nature, but I can tell that she wants me. I can feel it in her nethers, her messy kisses, her sweat, every single adorably erotic noise she makes…

Pinkie’s arm captures my head in a lock and seizes me downward, until all I can see is her eyes, muzzle and mouth, which remains open in an extended moan. She’s saying something, but it’s all gibberish to me. Then again, I’m probably saying the same nonsense. It’s because I’m getting close, and my mind is pretty much kaput at this point. I’m lost in a hot maelstrom of raw desire that I just can’t control. Curse this dragon inside of me. There’s no going back now.

Although Pinkie Pie does find it in her to say something coherent. “Spike, faster, please!”

No double entendre. No puns. No implications. That’s the least Pinkie Pie-esque thing I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth tonight, but that’s what makes it so sexy, and it’s what pushes me over the edge.

With a draconic roar, a hard vice grip on Pinkie’s breasts, and a single moment where the edges of my vision collapse, I let loose. Much to Pinkie’s satisfaction, of course; my burst of liquid into her sweet nethers is what pushes her over along with me. Her head cranes upwards as she comes, her wetness intensifying, mixing with my hot cum and draining down her leg, ending up on the sheets.

For an eternity, or at least a few seconds, all that’s left is us panting like dogs after a long, exhausting run. At least, until Pinkie raises her arm. I’m expecting her lay it on me and feel up my spines, or something like that, but all she does is wiggle her fingers.

“Spiiiike,” she says, halfway between weak and energized. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

Now I get it. I raise my arm and give her a high five. “Booyah.”

Pinkie and I break contact, ending up on our backs as we let the last bits of ecstasy roll over us and leave our bodies. I won’t be surprised if I’m out of it longer than Pinkie, because she seems to be breathing regularly now, and I’m still trying to catch my breath.

The curvaceous mare rolls her beautiful self off of the bed and stands up. She bounces over to the toy chest, which has been taunting me since the beginning of this little romp.

Pinkie opens up the chest and starts looking through it. “I wouldn’t believe how happy I was when Pound and Pumpkin got their own room. I was running out of places to store my secret collection.”

Despite my head feeling a little empty, I somehow manage to sit up and take a peek at Pinkie’s rummaging. I can see that she doesn’t have a shortage of eggs, my gosh… No wonder she wakes up with so much enthusiasm. Aside from those, she has the obvious artificial shafts and battery powered ‘marital aids.’ Obviously, she favors them in bright pinks, blues and greens. Well, except for…

“That’s impressive,” I say, pointing at the giant black rubber horsecock in her hand.

“I made it myself!” Pinkie exclaims with pride. “The flat end is weighted and sticky. Usually I just put it on the floor and…” She suddenly looks more red in the face than pink. “Whoop! Tee em eye!”

“Huh.” That’s an enticing image she just gave me. However, it seems that horsecocks are out of the question for tonight. Pinkie puts that giant thing away.

Okay, we’ve moved past the obvious toys. I can’t really think of what else Pinkie would have, unless she’s into some gnarly stuff, which honestly wouldn’t surprise me, and I would be okay with that. And I am not okay with that.

Pinkie’s search through the toy chest takes about a minute. It’s accompanied with a generous view of her plump, curvy, naked ass, so I’m not complaining in the slightest. I know she’s found what she’s been looking for when she utters a little “Ooh!” and stands up, clutching something in her hands.

“The best presents are the simple ones!” she says, turning around and presenting two scarves, one checker patterned and other with polka dots. I have a general idea of what can be done with those, and I smile excitedly for what could happen next.

Pinkie skips up to me and grabs my arms as she brings her muzzle close to mine. Her brief, playful snog distracts me long enough for her to cross my arms and wrap one of the scarves around them. With a firmly tied knot, my arms are locked behind me.

“Do you trust me?” Pinkie asks as she presents the other scarf.

I stick my tongue out at her and close my eyes. “Duh.”

She takes that as permission to give my head the same treatment as my arms. Now I’m on my knees, unable to see or move my arms. If I wasn’t doing this willingly, this would be one of the worst possible things, but that’s the thing about bondage; there’s this knowledge that no matter how rough things get, you’ll eventually be able to move your limbs again, so you may as well enjoy the moment.

Aside from the muted texture and pattern of the scarf (I’m wearing the polka dotted one), all I can see is the barely visible silhouette of Pinkie Pie. It’s growing bigger. Unable to be proactive in my current state, all I can do is accept her gift of lips and tongue, as well as the heightened sensation of her hands touching my chest, fondling my pecs.

Eventually her tongue misses my mouth and starts going down, as if she’s the blindfolded one. It takes me longer than it should to realize that she’s mouthing my chin and neck intentionally. Her fingers descend my torso, with her tongue following suit, leaving a moist saliva trail. She’s hungry for something, and I think I know what.

Left only to feel Pinkie’s lips take in the head of my reptilian cock rather than watch her actions, I can’t brace myself for anything she does. As such, everything that would normally be, well, obviously incredibly hot and orgasm-inducing, is now even more so.

While it is a bit of a bummer to be deprived of sight, I can at least enjoy the heat of Pinkie’s musty breath on my already warm drakehood. Every single brush of her tongue on the head, trailing downward until she reaches the middle and retreats back up, it’s amazing. I don’t have to look. I can feel everything.

“Mmm, I found the best lollipop of all, and it’s not even for sale…” says the dirty girl.

If I could move my arms, this would be the part where I’d stroke her curly mane. At least she didn’t give me a ball gag. “Yep. It’s a special sort of Hearth’s Warming present. Very exclusive.”

Actually, forget feeling everything; I can hear everything. Pinkie gives an amazing blowjob, but she’s in no way subtle. She’d rather make her arousal known to me with several loud hums every time she takes me into her mouth. Those hums cause my cock to vibrate, making me gasp and hum in return.

“Mmmmrah,” she moans. “Good thing I took it… Some other mare could have stolen it away from me..”

Knowing Pinkie’s affection for all things confectionary, it makes sense that she’d take her time enjoying certain treats, like this one. She takes a pause with her sucking to let my cock stand almost vertically, then makes an elongated pass of her tongue along its entire length. She grabs me by the shaft and balls, then uses her tongue to tease where the two meet.

As she takes me back into her mouth again, rapidly moving along my cock in repeated dives, I can feel my end coming up once again. That’s when I realize something; I can still move my hips.

When Pinkie dives again, I move forward, allowing her lips to touch my base. When she pulls away again, all of my shaft is coated in her spit. My cock tingles with every bit of cold winter air on its surface, as well as the gentle ministrations of Pinkie’s eager tongue and fingers.

“Oooh! Idea!” Pinkie chirps. I feel the bed shifting about, so it’s obvious that she’s moving. Not entirely sure what for, though… “Spiiiike? Could you move forward a little?”

“Yeah.” I do as she asks. The head of my cock touches another pair of lips. Moist, warm, yet… quivering. Ah, Pinkie Pie, you clever little succubus! With what little control I have, given the condition of my hands, I settle for gently rubbing Pinkie’s vulva, just barely piercing her, until her moans become loud and desperate enough for me to decide she’s ready.

To be blunt, I fuck her.

While I pump into her with gradually, clumsily increasing speed, I think back to when I was young and stupid, and I told somepony (I can’t remember who) that I could please a mare with my arms tied around my back. Granted, at the time I didn’t even know what oral sex was, but even so, the memory is hilarious to me now.

Due to her amazing blowjob, I’m already at my limit. I won’t be able to bring her to an orgasm. “Pinkie, I—”

She won’t hear any of it. “Come ooon, Spike! Just let it all out! I don’t mind!”

That’s all the permission I need.

My whole lower body shivers and spasms as my climax overtakes me. Pinkie feels this, apparently, and decides to remove me from her lower lips. The bed shifts again, so I can assume she’s turning around, and I’d be right; I can feel her tongue on my cock again, lapping at the tip, ready to receive.

My load is, as per usual, massive. Wave after wave of white bursts from my cock and fills Pinkie’s mouth, though I don’t need to be blindfolded to know it’s coating her face too. Knowing her, she won’t mind in the slightest; when she isn’t savoring her dessert, she’s a messy eater.

My fourth and fifth waves are the weakest, coming out at a mere dribble. Pinkie doesn’t hesitate to lick the semen off of my slowly softening cock. She’s very thorough.

I see her fingers grabbing the blindfold. She tears it off quickly, finally letting me see the results of her little domination. I look down at her, seeing that her face has received a decent coating of white, and chuckle.

“Creeeeamy, creamy frosting,” she says with a hint of longing in her voice.

“I thought it was a lollipop.”

“Oh, don’t bring politics into this, Spike.” Pinkie hops up, leaps off the bed, and goes to the door. “Now, come on. I wanna take a shower. We can lick each other clean.”

That… might just be the hottest thing I’ve heard all year. Sweetie Belle will have to work super hard to beat down Pinkie’s dirty talk.

As I follow Pinkie Pie through the second floor hallway, I surprise myself by actually being able to keep my eyes off of her bodacious behind. Instead, my thoughts are of Sweetie Belle, and the reasons why I’m not spending a romantic Hearth’s Warming Eve in bed with her, sipping eggnog between kisses, falling asleep with her curled around me… Hell, I could take or leave the sex. I would be happy just being with her.

But then that new label of hers called and offered her a shot most rockstars would take a leisurely stroll in Tartarus for. Demoness Records, the label that supports Vinyl Scratch and Sapphire Shores and all the other awesome artists out there, said that if Sweetie could bring in a metric crapton of bits at a Hearth’s Warming charity concert, they would sign her on for five albums right then and there. I couldn’t have been happier for her.

The problem? A blizzard kept Sweetie from boarding the train back home from the Crystal Empire. I was bummed, but Sweetie sent all her love and a care package of sweets. I was left to change my plans and organize the usual dinner with Twilight, but then she got her summons. That’s when my mood hit rock bottom.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly alone. No friends, no family, no love… As temporary as it was, it was still miserable.

Thank goodness for Pinkie Pie. She went out of her way to make this a wonderful night. I’m sure that if I had asked for a simple night of just baked goods, movies, perhaps painting each other’s nails and talking about cute boys, she would have made it happen. Instead, I got something even better.

It’s nights like these that make me thankful for me and Sweetie Belle’s arrangement.

I step into the bathroom, where Pinkie Pie is cleaning her face with a wet towel. The shower is running, probably still heating up, so I have a little time to spare.

Any other pervert would take the opportunity to get his hands dirty with the girl in front of him, but that’s beneath me. Instead, I hug Pinkie from behind and give her a long, deep nuzzle.

“Thanks.”

Author's Note

Sorry if this one seemed rushed. I just wanted to get it finally done.

The next chapter will be the last. Don't worry, I'm still gonna cover Braeburn and Soarin, I just don't think their story warrants a whole chapter.

Thanks for reading.