Tags: Solo Sp, TSxSp, human-dragon relations, hemipenes, young teen, pseudo-incest, panty-snatching, questionable use of Want-It-Need-It spell, cum fetish, mentioned voyeurism

“Spike?” Twilight called, knocking on the wooden door of his room. “Are you in there?” She waited for a few seconds, but heard nothing. Spike would've at least answered if he was there, whether or not he was busy, which begged the question of where he was. All of his chores on today's list were checked off, and she would've noticed if he'd left. Shrugging, she pushed the door open, leaving her folded bedsheets to float in the hallway of the tree-library.

She took a moment to take in the inside of Spike's room. As usual, it smelled of charcoal and musk, or growing dragon, though she noticed the smell was getting stronger. It was also dark. The thick curtains over the windows smothered out the afternoon sun. Twilight sighed. She knew Spike would come out of this “dark” mood quickly, just like the last five times. Hopefully. In the meantime, the lack of sunlight couldn't be good for him.

There was the typical scattering of rock band posters—or punk. Or techno. Or grunge. She didn't exactly keep track—and his Rarity shrine around the small, white-painted cabinet in one corner, complete with a mirror, photos, candles, and everything else a young, unhealthily obsessed lover needed. That got another sigh out of her.

Finally, she went to his bed, lifting the curtain so she could examine his blankets and sheets. She sighed once more. More shed scales. At this rate, shaking out his sheets would have to be upgraded from a bi-weekly chore to an every-other-day one. As she bundled them up, she took a sniff, before screwing up her face. Maybe she should upgrade washing them as well. That would be a pain. Since Spike's scales were considerably rougher than human skin, his bed and wardrobe needed tough, thick fabrics to compensate. She pulled them up with her magic and went out the door, gathering her own ones on the way.

As she approached the laundry room, she paused. There was another noise, one that was becoming increasingly common in the library. The combination of moans and a rapid slicking. She lifted a hand to her forehead, groaning quietly. Stupid dragon hormones.

Ever since the events following Spike's birthday a couple of weeks ago, taking care of the growing dragon had become not just several times more tiresome, but several times more awkward. It wasn't as if he had never masturbated before; she'd given him the Talk, adapted for dragons, a few years ago, the open-minded young woman she was. Now, it was like the first time he'd discovered it all over again, going at it at least six times a day, except this time, two weeks had passed and it was still happening.

She slammed the door open, flooding the dark room with light from the hallway. “Spike,” she growled, “you have a room! Use it!”

Spike jumped, caught like a deer in a flashlight. “Twilight! I— Ahh! Oh...”

Oh geez, he was cumming. The shock made him cum. She moved to facepalm, but froze.

It wasn't very clear in dark room, even with the harsh light shining in, but she could see well enough. He had his jeans down and a claw wrapped around both his short hemipenes, but that wasn't what shocked her. What shocked her was actually two things: Spike was holding a wadded hot pink thong (she had worn it visiting Applejack yesterday) near his face, and also wrapped around his twin shafts was a pair of violet, lacy panties (Pinkie Pie had dragged them off with her teeth Wednesday), now soaked in dragon cum.

The two of them were frozen in place, staring at each other. A small wad of cum dripped onto the tiled floor.

Twilight wordlessly shut the door. She turned on the spot, ignoring the dropped heap of blankets and sheets, and walked a few steps away before vanishing in a burst of light. A few seconds later, a magenta aura slammed her bedroom door shut.

Spike was screwed. So very screwed. Like, so screwed, he could probably replace every screw needed in any of Ponyville's construction projects for the next few months. Even more screwed than that time he sneezed on some thousand-year-old first-edition tome. There were no words for how screwed Spike was. He just wished Twilight would stop stalling and screw him already!

No, wait, that come out wrong. That came out entirely wrong. There was no way Twilight was going to screw him. Especially not now. Heck, not even before! There was no chance of it! There never was!Twilight was screw-free! Not that he was thinking about screwing Twilight! Especially not considering that thinking about screwing Twilight was why he was so screwed in the first place! So very screwed.

Okay, “screwed” was starting to not sound like a word anymore.

Spike groaned, rolling over on his bed, pulling a bunch of blankets with him. It had been two days since Twilight had caught him in the laundry room. Two whole days! Well, a bit less than two days, it was morning now, but still! What was taking Twilight's punishment so long? He'd expected her to at least yell at him, calling him a disgusting, sick little beast like he was. Or worse, tell him how Disappointed she was in him.

But no, the few brief interactions they'd had since the incident, like during mealtimes, she was cordial, if curt, to him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, though he hadn't exactly tried to watch her. He kept his eyes to the ground around her, staying on his best behavior, like a good gentledrake. The few times he glanced at her, she was staring back at him pensively, and he quickly redirected his gaze. No reason to give her anything else to punish him for. He was being a good dragon. He hadn't even touched himself!

He groaned more loudly, shoving his pillow over his face. That part was painful. Way too painful. He swore, he was going to just pop soon. Like a boiling kettle shooting steam, he was going to... yeah, and he didn't want it to happen anywhere near Twilight. They kept poking out of the scales that formed his sheath and tenting his pants, forcing him to run into his room and think about algebra or Granny Smith until they went down, or, at one point, take a half-hour cold shower.

Another shower might be needed at this rate. His shafts were insistently poking out of his jeans, despite his efforts to focus on how screwed he was, not about screwing Twilight. Wait. Damn it!

He rolled to an upright sitting position, throwing his blankets off. He glared down at his twin pricks, quivering in the air. “Stop bugging me!” he hissed. “This is your fault!” Naturally, they didn't respond.

Growling, he began to drag himself off the bed, but stopped. He looked down. His over-sensitive heads dragged against the fabric of his bedsheet. Hesitantly, he shifted, getting another jolt of pleasure. He screwed his eyes shut. “Okay, fine! You win!” He hopped off his bed and dashed over to his shrine. Second drawer from bottom, behind the false back...

Oh no.

Oh, no.

No no no no nonononono...

He thought he was screwed before? No, no, he was past screwed now. Now, he was dead. Twilight had been through here, and she found his album. An album full of compromising photos he'd snapped not just of Rarity, but of Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Cheerilee, Lyra, Bonbon, several other girls from both Ponyville and Canterlot, and Twilight herself. There was a lot of Twilight in that album, largely because he lived far closer to her than any other girl, making the photos easier to take.

Welp. It'd been nice living in Ponyville, but now, there was nothing to do but to pack up and run as far he possibly could. Maybe he'd change his name? Maybe he could find other dragons to live with?

He shook his head, suddenly remembering the last dragon he'd met and why. Back when he was jealous of Owlowiscious, running away had quickly turned out to be a mistake. But last time, he hadn't been caught masturbating with Twilight's underwear or keeping a stash of voyeuristic photos. On the other hand, Twilight still hadn't confronted him about it. The only opportunity she could've had to find the album was yesterday, while he was dusting the basement. She hadn't acted differently since then, and that had to count for something, right?

Spike deliberated his options for a few moments. “I can't hide anymore,” he declared to his dark room. “I have to face Twilight. Face her and... and...” and what? Let her kick him into the streets? Let her send him to Celestia to be sent to the moon? Let her rip his balls out his ass?

The last image made him wince, but at least it effectively killed his already-dying erections. He shoved them into their sheath, adjusted his pants, and strode out his room with much more confidence than he really felt. He stopped in front of Twilight's bedroom door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

A minute passed. He poked his head around a corner. There was no response from Twilight's door. With a sigh, he left his hiding spot and jogged back to the door.

He knocked again, resisting the urge to flee to the other end of the curving hall again. Still no response. He took another slow breath, and pushed her door open, poking his head into the room. Judging by the sound of running water from the bathroom, she was showering. He sighed. He'd have to come back later. Or he could stick around...

Spike slapped himself across the face. What was he thinking? He was already in enough trouble! Shaking his head, he turned to leave, but froze. Up on the upper level, a pair of lavender panties patterned with white starbursts hung from a bedpost.

He gawked. Partially at the fact that Twilight's underwear was hanging in plain sight, but also because Twilight had left her underwear in plain sight! She almost never did that! And there was no way she would've neglected it so soon after... the laundry room. It was a test! It had to be!

At this realization, he steeled himself. Well there was no way he was going to fail! He was going to prove to Twilight that he was her good, obedient, clean assistant! He turned around and marched out the door. Of course he wouldn't go for it! Even if he wasn't in so much trouble, he wouldn't be stupid enough to grab Twilight's panties from out in the open! He had this test in the bag!

He was halfway up the stairs to the upper level. He stood frozen for a few seconds, then started slapping himself repeatedly.

What was he doing? He literally just won his mental debate with no opposition! Why was his body doing the opposite of what he wanted? His gaze passed over the hanging panties again. He took another step.

This was stupid! This was wrong! But he was still going. His eyes remained fixated on the underwear. Despite every bit of his brain fighting, he wanted it. He needed it!

He snatched the panties off the bedpost. He froze, standing in front of Twilight's bed, staring at the underwear hanging from his claw. His twin erections, each cone-shaped and four inches, were at full attention, stretching his jeans.

That was it. The Want-It-Need-It spell. The clothes Twilight was going to wear were folded up neatly on the other side of the bed, and the panties should've either been laid out with them or in the laundry basket. The curtains and windows were shut, even though Twilight would usually open them for such a bright, warm morning. Everything was set up. It really was a test.

Spike, slowly, brought the panties to his snout and sniffed. It was a test, and he was failing.

He sagged, propping himself on the bed with his other claw. The scent of Twilight was so fresh! So strong! He'd never dared touch any of her underwear so soon after she took it off, and now, he couldn't imagine getting her scent from any older source. He mushed it over hit snout, inhaling deeply. It didn't just smell of her—it was wet too.

Twilight, during their Talk, had told him the girls masturbated as well as boys. He'd witnessed several examples since then as he grew in Canterlot and Ponyville, though Twilight had made it difficult to ever catch her in the act. All he had were still photos to fantasize over, but this! This was the fresh remains of her self-pleasure in his hands! His tongue snaked out, brushing against the damp spot. He shuddered.

He couldn't fight the heat any longer. He turned around and sat down on the bed, popping open his jeans to reveal his quivering boners, dripping pre-cum. He leaned back, causing the bed to creak, and—no wait, he wasn't that heavy, was he?

His head snapped up and looked around. He was big. Too big. He hadn't even noticed it happening, but his jeans were straining around his legs, and his t-shirt already had a couple rips. He screwed his eyes shut.

No Spike, it's bad enough that you're about to jack off into Twilight's panties again, you don't want to grow into a giant again on top of that! Could he imagine Giant Spike terrorizing Ponyville again, but with a pair of huge, dripping boners and raiding women's underwear? No one wanted that. It was just him, and Twilight's panties. Nothing to be greedy over. Except maybe Twilight, Rarity, and every other girl in a hundred miles, but he couldn't have them. Just the panties.

It sounded weird and unconvincing, even in his head, but it seemed to be working. His feet were dangling off the side of the bed like they should've been, and his clothes sagged comfortably again. However, his erections were still throbbing and leaking, and Twilight's panties were still clutched tightly in his claw.

Slowly, he brought his claw down, rubbing the damp fabric against his right shaft, gasping. It absorbed his pre-cum, mixing it with Twilight's wetness. He then wrapped the entire thing around both of his cocks and started stroking rapidly.

How did Twilight masturbate, he wondered. Would she have been sitting in this exact same spot, shoving her fingers in and out of her pussy? Or maybe she did it lying flat on her back, squeezing a naked boob with a spare hand, like he wanted to at times. He imagined her wearing nothing but the panties in his hand in each scenario. His pace increased, pre-cum spilling all over, and panted heavily.

Maybe she used a toy, like a few other girls he'd seen had. He pictured the thick glass dildo he'd seen in Rarity's bedroom, though he had never seen her use it. Did Twilight lay on her back, using her hands to shove it in and out, with her panties pushed to the side? Did she rest it on the bed, sitting on it? He wondered if she liked it slow and gentle, like on her side, one leg stretched into the air, her magic smoothly gliding the dildo in and out; or hard and rough, on her elbows and knees, back arched, as the magic-powered toy slammed into her like a stallion. Or a dragon.

He was too pent-up to go on any further. He rolled around onto his knees, still rapidly stroking his shafts with one claw. With the other, he set the panties down on the blanket, straightening it out with the soft, wet insides facing up. The entire thing was covered in off-white splotches, but it wasn't enough. He bent over, supporting himself with his free hand, and still jacking off furiously with his other. He aimed himself, pressing both his heads against the panties, against Twilight's wet remains. Unable to contain himself, he roared, green sparks flying from his throat, while he pumped wave after wave of hot seed, built up during his two-day drought, all over Twilight's panties and the blanket around it.

Eventually, he sagged, and rolled onto his side, panting heavily. Both erections drooped, still leaking. He did it. He failed Twilight's test, and failed spectacularly. Even now, his heart was clenching with guilt and self-loathing. What now?

Spike blinked. Something was different. The bathroom was silent. The moment he realized that, he heard the doorknob of the bathroom jiggle.

He didn't think; he just threw himself off the bed and rolled under it. After a second, he bit back a curse. What was the point of hiding? Twilight's panties were lying in a pool of cum! It wouldn't take a genius to figure it out! Still, he kept silent. He watched Twilight's feet walked in front of the bed and stopped, no doubt as Twilight gawked at the mess he made.

They were still for a while, then suddenly one foot lifted up. It came down, and the other went up. Something dripped onto the wood floor. Spike's jaw dropped.

There was the sound of ruffling fabric, and she repeated the process, more white stuff dripping between her feet. Eventually, she snapped, creating a flash, and then turned around and walked away. Spike crawled further out, watching her go. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, her buttoned shirt was in place, and his cum dribbled down her legs from underneath her pleated skirt.

As she disappeared down the stairs, Spike swore he heard her moan something that sounded like “warm...”.

His half-hard shafts spurted a bit more onto the ground.

Spike wasn't so screwed. He thought. He wasn't really sure. After Twilight's shock when she caught him in the laundry room, he thought she'd be disgusted with him. The events of that morning however, made it plain that whatever she felt, it probably wasn't disgust or hate. Spike was no expert in sexual mannerisms, but he was pretty sure you didn't happily wear the cum of someone you hated.

After Twilight had left, he resolved to at least clean up the mess he made in her room, scrubbing away the dribble under the bed and the drops from... Twilight. He would've replaced her blanket, but when he looked, it was mysteriously spotless.

His erections throbbed again, though he made no move to acknowledge them. He couldn't face her for the rest of the day—not without risk of his privates making themselves very public. He ended up sneaking instant meals from the kitchen for lunch and dinner and locking himself in his room for the rest of the time.

He idly raised a claw to check behind the curtain. It was past sunset now. It was probably time to go to sleep and... not come out of his room for another day. He groaned. Maybe Twilight would have another test or something...

“Spike?”

Spike jumped upright in his bed. “Uh, yeah?” he answered.

“Can you please come to my room in a few minutes?” he heard Twilight say from behind the door. “We should talk.”

“Oh. Um... yeah, I'll... be there.”

He listened to her footsteps fading away. “...Guess I'm going to have to face her head-on now,” he grumbled. He looked down. He couldn't go out with boners this obvious.

A few minutes later, he realized he may have to. He'd tried everything he could think of short of a shower, and as much he didn't want to stroll into Twilight's room sporting a tent, he really didn't want to keep her waiting either. Sighing, he pulled the door open, peeked both ways down the dark, empty hall way, and sprinted to Twilight's room.

He hesitated, but opened the door, blinking into the light of Twilight's bedroom. She was sitting on her bed, with a new blanket. “There you are, Spike,” she called to him. “Come here?” she patted the bed.

Spike eyes darted around, looking for a sign that this was another test, but eventually stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He tried to avoid moving so slowly that Twilight would think he didn't want to obey her, but no so quickly that he might seem... overeager.

When he got to her bed, he hopped onto it, still keeping his gaze to the ground. He didn't dare look at her legs, to see if any of his seed was still there. She made no comment about the conspicuous tent, he noted.

“Spike?” she finally asked. “What do you think of me?”

He blinked. What kind of question was that? Did she expect him to tell her how much he wanted to rip her clothes off and take her or something? “Uh...” he made out, “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Would you think of me as a mother?”

That made him pause again. Oh, so that's what she meant. “Well, you hatched me... You're kind of... um... bossy, you tell me to do a bunch of things, and you... um... you hug me a lot and tuck me in... you know, mom stuff, but...” He let out a sigh. “No. No, not really.”

“I didn't think so,” Twilight said. “After all, you were born—or hatched—the same day I was accepted to Princess Celestia's School. I was way too young to really take care of you like a mom. If anything, that role belonged to Princess Celestia.”

Yeah, that had been about what he was thinking. “So, I guess if you're not like my mom, you're like my older sister?”

“That sounds better.”

“But—!” He hesitated. “But brothers aren't supposed to... like... their sisters... like this, are they? Heck, sons aren't supposed to like their moms like that either, so I don't know—!”

He jumped when she put a hand on his shoulder. “It is a major taboo, yes,” she said, “and it's not the only one at play here. But...” He could almost feel Twilight's gaze on his jeans. “...While I love you like a little brother, we're technically not really siblings. And besides, it's not like I've ever payed too much attention to taboos in the first place.”

Spike silently wiped some sweat from his brow.

“It's odd,” she went on. “I never really thought about you growing up like a human would. You were always just a baby dragon in my mind. When I gave you the Talk, it was at the Princess's suggestion. Even when I... caught you the first few times...” Back after she had taught Spike about masturbation, he had pretty much went at it nonstop, with minimal regard to ensuring his privacy. That had caused some awkward situations. “...I still didn't really think of you as a sexual creature.”

Wait, is that where this was going? She thought of him as... that... now?

“It was stupid of me, in retrospect. I knew you couldn't keep your eyes off girls, back in Canterlot or here in Ponyville. We'll be having a talk about privacy later, by the way,” she told him in a suddenly stern tone. He gulped. “But... well, after I saw you in the laundry room... once I realized that I was one of the girls you looked at... that changed.

“I was confused at first, but I came to a decision. You have so many unfamiliar feelings in you right now, confusing you, distracting you. Before, I just tried to ignore them, but now, I realize there's a better way. That as your sort-of older sister, I have a duty to help you.” She leaned in. “I can help you handle them.”

Spike could hardly believe his ears. “Twilight...” he muttered. “You mean it?”

“Spike.” Her voice was soft, but demanded his attention. “Look at me.”

He turned his head, and gaped. Twilight was topless. He could see every soft curve of her flesh, her pink nipples jutting out, everything. It wasn't a photo this time. Twilight's boobs were on full display.

“You can touch them.”

His arms twitched at his sides. He swung them up, reached for Twilight, and froze. Slowly, his claws brushed against her flesh. She didn't make a noise or flinch, so he pressed his palms against her boobs. They were soft. And smooth. And squishy. Like... he couldn't even think about similes, he was busy touching a girl's boobs! The flesh gave easily under his fingers. He could feel her nipples poking into his scaly palms, growing harder.

There was a hand behind his head, pulling him closer. His face was now pressing into the valley between her boobs. He inhaled. The scent was nice, soothing. His tongue snaked out, sliding over all over the curves of her skin. He wasn't making any effort to restrain himself anymore. His claws squished her flash mercilessly, and he bent his thumbs to press her nipples down. He moved his right hand out of the way and turned his head so he could close his lips over her left nipple.

Twilight gasped, and Spike paused. He had been so wrapped up in his first physical experience, that he forgot it was Twilight's body he was touching. He looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time in two days.

She didn't hate him. Spike almost sobbed at the realization. He could he ever think she would hate him? Her gaze was kind, caring, coddling, loving, and he didn't deserve any of it. So how could he not give her the love she did deserve in return?

He returned to fondling her with even more enthusiasm, delighting in her soft coos. He sealed his lips over her nipple, around the entire pink patch, and sucked while his tongue tickled her hard nub. She was breathing more audibly now, and he switched sides, giving her other breast the same treatment. His claws weren't idle, dragging up and down and all around her chest, sides, and boobs. One of her hands pressed his head into her body, and the other stroked his spines.

Eventually, she let go of his head. He looked up at her inquisitively, his mouth still latched onto her breast. She just smiled down at him. Suddenly, Spike felt a tug on his jeans. Looking down, he saw Twilight's hand unbuttoning him, and he squirmed so she could push his pants all the way off. Then her hand was wrapped around his left conical shaft, almost completely covering it.

“Very interesting,” Twilight muttered, twisting her hand around him. Spike gasped as her smooth skin rubbed against his hot flesh. Of course Twilight's first instinct would be to explore—his shafts weren't at all like the equipment of human men he saw in some magazines. They were widest at the base, getting slightly thinner as they went up, then rapidly tapered to points at the ends. Each was smooth, pink, and featureless, except for a ridge down the bottom much like the spines down his back, only smaller, smoothed, and no harder than the rest of the shaft. There was no loose skin, but his shafts were naturally lubricated by some secretion from with within his sheath.

However, they were small. Twilight could almost completely wrap one up in her hand. Before he could even begin to feel inadequate, Twilight's hand also captured his other shaft, then began pumping them in short, rapid strokes. He gasped, throwing his arms around Twilight and burying his face back in between her breasts.

No one else had ever masturbated him—or touched him, period, for that matter—before, and it felt amazing. Her fingers danced around his slick shafts, sending jolts of pleasure through him he never felt from his own claws. He panted into Twilight's chest, his claws and toes curling. “Twilight!” he cried. “It feels too good! You feel too good!” He could practically hear her grin.

Her fingers continued to flit all over his shafts, constantly changing positions as she stroked. Each time, he rewarded her with more gasps. Eventually, her grip settled, with her thumb swirling over his tips and her fingers brushing his ridges as her pumping motions got faster and faster.

It was too much. “Twilight, I can't—! I'm going to...!” He practically flattened himself against her as his entire body, from his claws to his head to the tip of his tail, tensed up. He squeezed his eyes shut and yelled his pleasure into her chest, green sparks flying out harmlessly. Hot dragon seed exploded from both his shafts, but Twilight kept stroking him, not slowing down even as he kept pumping thick wads of cum into the air between them.

Eventually, his climax slowed to a dribble, and her grip and speed lessened. Finally, her hand left him, and he could only pant against her body, which, even through his shirt, actually felt cool next his burning heat. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Thick streams of cum painted Twilight's stomach, reaching as far up as the bottom of her breasts, and dribbled down onto her skirt. Twilight started to lean back, pulling Spike down with her. Even if he weren't too tired to resist, he wouldn't have, content to rest his scaly body on top of her soft, cum-streaked one. He snuggled his head into her left breast as she wrapped an arm around his back.

A few minutes of satisfied silence later, as Twilight finished licking her other hand clean, she felt something press against her stomach. She smirked. “Ready for round two?”

Spike stirred. “Hmm? Twilight? I had a nice, but weird dream. Uh, I mean—“ His voice broke off when he realized what his cheek was pressed against.

“Really?” Twilight asked, stroking his other cheek. “Tell me about it.”

He was frozen for a few seconds, his eyes flicking around her body. “Um... well...” After a few more seconds, his resolve seemed to harden. “It went something like this.” His tongue snaked out and began sliding over her breasts again, curling around her right nipple. She cooed in response, holding his head close as he returned to playing with her tits.

Soon, she pushed him away. Spike blinked in confusion as she seated him in front of her, then his eyes widened when she reached for her cum-covered skirt, and lifted her legs to pull them off, giving him a view he'd only seen through cleverly-placed cameras. She threw the skirt to the side and spread her legs, holding them apart with her arms. She tilted her head with a seductive smile.

Spike just sat there, ogling for a few seconds. Slowly, he shifted onto his hands and knees for a closer look at her damp slit. “It's beautiful,” he whispered. Twilight just giggled, while he dragged a claw over it, spreading her lips apart. His mind jumped back to the cum-soaked panties she'd put on that morning. She wasn't wearing it now, and her body had no trace of it...

He looked up at her inquisitively. Quickly figuring out what Spike wanted, Twilight spoke, “I cleaned myself up after about an hour. As much as I love cum, I can't just wear it all day.”

Spike briefly wondered how often Twilight got a chance to wear cum that she would admit it so casually, but then Twilight grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up. He followed along, confused, as he crawled up her body, then froze. He looked underneath herself, and saw his erections poking her thigh so near the pussy he had just been admiring. The memory of him kneeling over her panties on the same blanket just that morning flashed in his head. Twilight distracted him by tugging at his shirt, and he let her pull it off, leaving his body as bare as her own.

“Spike,” she said in that same firm, but gentle tone as before. “Are you ready?” Slowly, he nodded. She smiled and reached down, grabbing one shafts and aiming it. “Go on, then.” Gulping, he pushed forward, until his tip parted her folds.

His breath caught in his throat. Twilight's fingers, as amazing and breath-taking as they were, were nothing compared to this. Her wet folds squeezed around him, almost invitingly. He obliged, pressing deeper into her in jerky motions, until his base met her crotch. As a dragon, Spike was used to humans feeling cold relative to him, but now, buried in Twilight, she could feel her burning as brightly as he was. If heaven were a place on Equestria, then he was buried as far into it as possible.

Twilight wrapped her hands around his back, while his hips began to shift, pumping himself in and out of her. He panted and groaned at the slick friction and the hot suction of her pussy, at her walls parting so easily for him when he thrust in, but clutching at his ridges when he pulled out. Meanwhile, his other shaft rubbed along her belly, slicking itself on the cum still splattered over her.

He tried to make long, powerful thrusts, but his short length kept him from gathering any momentum, and he frequently slipped out, forcing Twilight to reach down and re-aim him. He chocked back his frustration and kept thrusting into her, groaning into the air. Suddenly, her hand wrapped around his other shaft. Before he could react, she stuffed both of his erections into her pussy.

He gasped, collapsing onto Twilight's body again. His hips blurred while his tail flashed and his toes curled. His shafts were pressed against each other in the tight space of her pussy, and the feeling of them grinding together inside her was even more amazing, especially they way he felt her stretch around him. His face was, once again pressed against Twilight's right breast, but couldn't focus enough to do anything with it.

Like with the handjob, he couldn't last long. He couldn't even open his mouth to warn her. He just wrapped his arms around her body as tightly as he could as his thrusts sped up, and Twilight kept her arms around him. They held onto each other, reveling in their closeness. Spike couldn't how lucky he was to be that close to Twilight.

He slammed himself into Twilight a few last times, then was still, his body twitching all over. His hot cum poured into her, pooling inside her. Inside Twilight. He felt like he was giving her the warmth, the love she deserved from him. Eventually the flow ended, even though he felt that she still deserved more. He let out a fatigued sigh.

He glanced up at Twilight, who'd gone back to stroking his back spines, when a sudden realization came to him. “Twilight,” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Girls can cum too, right?”

“Of course they can,” she answered.

Spike stared at her. “So... did you?”

“No," she said with no trace of discontent, "but that's not important. You should go to sleep now. It's been a tiring evening for you.”

“But—!” he sputtered. “I want to make you feel like I did!”

“Aww,” she said, leaning in. She planted a kiss on his forehead. “You don't have to worry about pleasing me. Girls don't always need to cum to be satisfied, and besides, I have plenty of ways to take care of myself. Tonight wasn't about me—it was about you. So did you have a good time?”

Drowsily, he nodded.

“Then I'm satisfied. Now sleep. For me?”

He stared at her for a few more seconds, but his eyelids began to droop. Twilight was still stroking his scaly back. Eventually, the exhaustion of his first time caught up to him, and his head dropped into the valley of her chest, snoring.

Twilight giggled. With a few waves of her hand, the bright lights of her bedroom shut off, cum was cleaned from her body and where it smeared onto Spike's through his shirt, and her blankets were now on top of her and Spike instead of under them. She brought his dozing body into a tight hug, as she slipped into slumber herself. She smiled.

She had to admit, that hadn't been entirely for Spike—her favorite way to sleep had always been with a spent dick inside her.

“By the way, Spike, last night will be our little secret, right?”

“Oh, um, of course!”

“Good. I don't like keeping secrets from the girls, but... well, let's just say they can be a little conservative. For example, they kept acting like I was some poor, sexually scarred girl when I told them when my first time was.”

“Uh... When was your first time?”

“I was a bit younger than you.”

“...Oh. Huh... Um, are there going to be anymore... tests?”

“Tests?”

“You know, like leaving your panties out.”

“Oh. Well, I hadn't considered that a test. I just wanted you to cum in them.”

"Oh... So that's why you used the Want-It-Need-It spell?”

“What? No! I'm still mortified about what happened last time! Why would I ever use it again?”

“...Buh?”

Author's Note

Geez, you guys, I wasn't holding a vote. Well, regardless, that seems to be what happened, so by popular demand, have Spike.

So, why is Spike not human? Mainly, because of the unique relationship he has with Twilight that's due to her having hatched him. Since you can't have a human baby come from an egg hatched by a 1st grade magical prodigy and make him her personal assistant without it getting weird, it never feels appropriate to me to make him human.

Expect a sort of sequel chapter in the future where Spike greed-grows.

Next chapter: I forgot I actually wanted to do the Luna chapter right after the Gala chapter to stay in episodic order, so that's going to be next. For Twilight's help in fitting in with Nightmare Night, Princess Luna grants her the boon of being her lover. However, they each missed some fine print: Twilight is already claimed by Celestia, and the Princesses cannot share. Twilight tries to keep the ensuing conflict from boiling over. Sex ensues. Eventually.

2/12/17: I gave Spike clothes for consistency.