Chapters Good, clean fun (You x Big Macintosh)
The thick cords of muscle that make up his legs flexed and tensed as he propped himself up, water running in long rivulets across his coat. Upon touching his chest you felt it rumble like a rockslide as he mumbled an apology for bumping into you. The air that escaped those velvet soft lips was as hot as a sauna's, thick with the scent of macintoshes.
Big Macintosh leaned forward, asking you to straighten yourself out. There was no sponge or cloth used but instead his hooves would slide against your soft, wet skin. They're firm but not without the kind of give all pony hooves have. Years of labour in the orchard left them pitted and uneven but walking about unshod wore them down to a smoother finish. Despite all that you still felt all the carefully restrained power each time they moved in slow, stroking motions as he cleaned your back.
Then he pressed forward, pushing you against the edge of the washbasin and letting his barrel chest rest against your back: hard as the bark of an apple tree, his heart beating as strong as an ox's. He shuffled forward, water splashing over the edges as his massive legs displaced it. Like a prize fighter wearing a satin gown his forelegs slipped over your shoulders, pinning you there. The muscles of his lower abdomen pressed in against your lower back, rippling and iron-hard.
You tried to make some kind of objection but he quickly shushed you, with a mane that was softer and finer than any of Rarity's fabrics resting against your neck. He knew you watched him out in the orchard; watched him with the sweat dripping off his muscled flanks, watched as every ligament and sinew rolled beneath his skin as he'd rear up and buck the trees. He knew you stood under the cold water from the makeshift shower you made, behind the barn, trying to get rid of your own flexing appendage.
Those great, boulder like thighs undulated against your back, cupping your own soft behind in the firm cleft of their parting. You were incomparable to this heaving giant, brief work on the farm holding not so much as a spark to the many years that had built up his rock-hard frame. You were the perfect size to bend into the curve of his body and rest as he took over the control you'd never had.
But he's still Macintosh, the sweet stallion is still behind all that rippling muscle. And doing all that he paused to quietly ask if this was okay, did you really not mind him touching you like this? It was one thing to look, even to fantasise but to finally have the object of your desire in your grasp... It had to be treated with care. Strong hooves stroked back and forth, sliding easily along your wet skin; the unshorn fetlocks over his hooves would tickle at you, distracting you from his carefully chosen words.
But what answer could you give? With this giant pinning you so easily, with his every muscle capable of squashing you against the wood, with your own desire burning just as hot as the swelling between his thighs... Could you resist?
It was hard to make yourself talk any higher than a breathy sigh, telling him that you trusted him not to take advantage of you. The strength behind those limbs proclaimed as clear as if he told you that he could easily pin you anywhere at any time but he'd chosen this moment. And you were still free to brush off those steel flanks and sculpted thighs. You could escape those lips that threatened to show you just how soft this hard, hard pony could be.
He quietly muttered that it's nice. It's nice to finally have someone that isn't afraid of his strength or intimidated by his size. It's nice to be admired as a pony to be desired instead of as a trophy to be hawked and bragged about. It's... nice that he could put all that strength into protecting someone he felt should be protected.
And lying there, between the stiff boards of oak and the stiff cords of Mac you knew you'd never have to fear anything with him. You could lie atop that slab of muscle with those hooves using barely a quarter of their strength to hold you and know that he would bend to your every desire.
But you didn't want that. You wanted him to hold you like this; you wanted to feel that barrel chested stallion put his strength into bending you to his desires.
The slowly swelling, intensely throbbing warmth that pressed against the crook of your back grew with every beat of your hearts. When his teeth gently bit into your shoulder you gasped and in that felt it strain against your body, threatening to lift you out of the water with all the strength that was suppressed behind it.
His breath catching in his throat, chest heaving and swelling at your back he stuttered in, asking you if he may show you how much he's desired you, as you have him.
From this there would be no turning back, no denying that either of you would be inseparable after this.
With his head lying so close in against your own, he was still able to hear you when you whispered that you wanted him. You've wanted him for so long but you were just so afraid to even ask. The only comfort in that moment would be the heavy vibrations from that wide chest as he hums quietly, nuzzling into your neck.
Water rushed in loudly when he pulled away, filling the void of his massive form and leaving your back cold and shivering without him pressed to you. Was this all just some sick joke? Was it a test to see if you were worthy of even remaining on their farm. Your fingers clutched tightly at the wood, nails digging in enough to leave indentations.
The only sounds were of the water dripping down off his body, your shuddering breath and the slosh of water as he moves his hooves. And then his voice, calmly telling you to follow, this isn't the place for you to do what had to be done.
New sounds, ones of his hooves firmly clopping on the wood of the bathroom, your own desperate splashing to escape from the lonely bath and his rumbling chuckles filled the room. At least the chuckling stopped when you rested a hand on his flank, feeling the muscles roll back and forth as he walked.
Before, you'd just felt these powerful things brush against you but now, holding it, you could appreciate just how toned he is. His sister might have definition but Mac was that definition made into a pony. The heavy muscles of his flanks were hard as anything you'd ever felt and there was not an inch of give as you pressed your palm into them. His leg faltered, a gasp escaping his soft red lips before he continued on again at a slower pace.
You knew the way he was leading you though you'd never been down it before - down to his own bedroom. It was like a pilgrimage to some holy place and Mac was your guide who would show you the rituals to be practiced there.
Surely he'd prove himself the strong one again.
Your hand never left his flank as you both walked through that quiet hall. It'd been a long day, given way to a long night that you'd spent eating and then bathing together. Your fears of having to part yet again to spend even the rest of the night apart, at least, had been rent apart by the stallion at your side.
All the doors were closed save one: his own. Even as you approached it, there was his unmistakable musk which would normally follow him except the bath had washed that off. The bath that still left him dripping along every step and left your eyes struggling to watch every rivulet of water trail down that perfectly sculpted body.
At least in his bedroom there were towels and sheets and quilts and all sorts of other things that were soft like he wasn't.
It was he that shut the door after you'd both entered and he that lead you to his bed where two towels waited. The first was massive, red and with a green apple the same shade of his cutie mark in one corner. The second was smaller and a dull cream. You didn't hesitate in folding out the red one and throwing it over his head.
If it was possible for a pony of his size to giggle that's sure what he would've been doing. Instead it came out in that same rumble as before, his whole body shaking with you leaning on him, drying his head and mane. It was intimate in a way the bath hadn't been. You couldn't help but to smile, taking in the softness of the towel and the softness of his coat and the firmness of his back between your legs.
Down and down you went, over his neck and withers, over his broad back only stopping to reach around and dry his legs. Legs that were thicker and stronger than your own could ever aspire to but that didn't matter. It mattered that every time your skin brushed against them you'd both shiver but only you would gasp, holding onto him to steady yourself.
When you got down to his tail there was no steadying either of you. You were shaking like a life and could feel those firm flanks shivering at your every touch. At least he stood, letting you slide off him onto his bed as you practically hugged his behind, slowly sliding the towel over it and along his legs.
You asked him quietly and discarded the towel and there was no pause before he answered you just as quietly though not as unsure. It was with only a little trepidation that you stood up, he had after all bathed alongside you but somehow standing naked before him felt far more intimate and more like you were making yourself more vulnerable.
Mac just reached past you though, letting those rippling muscles and that soft coat brush right along your side. It was enervating, leaving you standing there with your eyes closed and shaking until you felt the towel wrap around you and his soft breath on your face.
When you did open your eyes his gentle smile greeted you along with a gentle touch of his nose to yours. He was contrast like you were consistency: harder than you, softer than you, gentler than you, stronger than you... He never told you until after that night that he felt the same way about you.
But tonight you could only think of those hooves pulling the towel around you and ruffling your hair. Of the cheesy grin he wore when he pulled it down from your face. The way he moved in right against you until your chests touched when he drew it down over your back and the way his smile grew just by the tiniest bit when it was down over your rear.
His breath was just as hot as ever when he was leaning down, his nose maybe an inch from something you hadn't been able to control. Mac didn't seem to mind, letting his nose bump against it when he was getting back up.
The strength of his resolve was clearly stronger than your own, letting yourself gasp at the gentle touch of his soft flesh to your own firm. You were awful cute when you did that, he said with another one of those rockslide chuckles. But when he silently turned aside from you, you at last were allowed to see that the unflappable Big Macintosh was both not as stolid as others thought and that his name was well deserved.
You fell back onto the bed when it was out of sight, terrified and thrilled that you might have more than just a hurried glimpse of it tonight. The bed... it was massive and soft and massively soft. A big pony like him needed something that size and one who worked as hard as he did needed something soft to rest on after a hard day. You needed something that was suffused with his heady, intoxicating scent and you eagerly sunk yourself into his pillow.
It was only when you heard the bed creaking and felt it distend under his weight that you were aware he'd returned. Something clinked on the bedside stand and the bed creaked again as you felt his breath on the back of your neck.
Just as anxious as earlier, he quietly asked if he might show his love for you. A hoof stroking your soft rear made clear just what he meant and the surprising pleasure to be gathered from that simple act left you breathlessly nodding your head.
You were prepared for everything except for him to shuffle back down on the bed, his eyes wide and nostrils flared as he stared down at your rear like it was some mystery to be divined. Or perhaps he was simply divining the right angle from which to pierce that mystery because there was only a moment for you to realise what he was doing before his hooves parted your cheeks and his tongue was sliding over them to worm into you.
You made a sound sort of like a whine, rolling your hips on his bedsheets as he snaked his tongue inside you. The idea that this could feel so good wasn't one that ever occurred to you, nor that Mac would ever be willing to do such a thing. But there's no doubt left when his tongue comes back out to lick slowly, longingly, lovingly over you. Your fists ball around the pillow you grip as Mac dives back in, pulling your cheeks further apart with ease.
If he considered you his mare you wouldn't have blamed him, how could he not with you struggling to angle yourself back and force more of that wonderfully worming warm tongue in? You must have cried his name a few times or maybe just made some kind of sound that indicated you needed him because he pushed you down into his bed, slathering his tongue inside and outside of you.
Where his tongue wasn't, your member throbbed against the bedsheets, spilling your own pre into them in a way that no other had been able to force from you before. You reached back with one arm shaking, struggling about for his head until your fingers felt his mane and you pushed down. Thankfully you caught his brow and helped him along, helped that part of him that wasn't quite big enough or hot enough but right now provided just enough pleasure.
That little needful sound rose in your throat again and you let go of his mane and head.
Mac withdrew himself, giving your rump a few last little rubs with his hooves before he shuffled back up along the bed and over you. If you weren't sure before, the long hot rod that bore down on you spoke to the sheer desire that mirrored your own.
And stuttering again, he asked one last time if he might do this. If he might take you and make you his own.
Your answer was to kiss him when his lips were close enough for you to hear his words.
It was... hot and hard and filled with his taste, his touch, his heat and strength and everything that made him, him. He didn't engage in passing but threw himself into it, his sumptuous lips meeting your own with just as much desire and passion. This time it was he who whimpered, grinding his hips and hot hardness against you.
A line of his pre shot over your back and some was caught between the cheeks of your rear when he pulled back, only making his gentle rocking motions all the easier. You didn't want it to stop, you didn't want him to pull away from the kiss or to push himself up so you were robbed of that member. But he did and you simply lay there, shivering and hoping he wouldn't delay.
The bed creaked, weight shifting as he leaned across you and there was another glass-like clink. You didn't look back, you couldn't stop yourself from chomping on the pillow to stop yourself from demanding that he continue. There was no need; seconds later you felt something cool and moist running down the valley of your rump, a hoof quickly following to rub it in and circle on your entrance.
You couldn't see it but you could hear the wet sliding of his hoof on his cock. Clink, thump... both hooves quickly worked the lube into you before turning back to his own need. You wiggled your hips below him, hoping to entice your stallion into finally acting but one of you had the sense to hold off. Kind to a fault, this was something he wanted you to have pleasant memories of.
Another creak, more shuffling and he was straddling your upper thighs. Something hot and hard and oh, so perfectly shaped pressed down against you and you pressed yourself back onto it, muttering his name and a few of the things you needed him to do.
He didn't. He just slowly leaned himself forward and let that thick shaft press right against you. Amidst grunting on both your parts it finally popped in, both of you sighing in relief and expectation.
Macintosh didn't waste his time trying to shimmy down, he just pressed himself in in one, long motion. You didn't make a sound when the first inch passed, you gasped when he was halfway and when he bottomed out you were groaning his name and rolling your hips into the bed. His back pressed you firmly against it and you could only let him hold you there, kissing along your neck.
The feeling of fullness was beyond any you'd ever experienced, that massive black shaft filling every inch of you that could be filled. Squeezed tight as he was, Mac continued to pump his pre into you, making the withdrawal all that much easier. But you kept a tight grip on his cock, unwilling to let yourself be rid of all those wonderful feelings he'd finally satisfied.
When there was only the head left inside you and you could feel the bed shaking with his legs at the effort of holding himself up, he thrust forward with the same force he'd buck the apple trees with. You didn't know or care who might hear you, you just had to scream his name in pain and joy. Slow as he was, being stretched was only a dull ache which now morphed into a sharp sting.
Even if you could, you wouldn't have stopped him. The bedsprings squealed and whined in protest of the stallion's forceful thrusts but you only begged him to go on, to rut you, mate you, fill you with all he had to give. Each thrust was met with the dull slap of his thighs against your rear, wetted by the lube which now spilled out over you. Each thrust meant less pain and more pleasure, more desire for him not to pull out.
Macintosh groaned heavily, driving his hooves into either side of your shoulders and raggedly pulling your hips up with his own. He had more leverage now, more room to throw his weight into his rutting. And you had space to lean down and then thrust yourself back to meet him. Both of you lost whatever cares you had for the others in the household, caring only for each other.
You liked to think he was considerate of you, for thrusting hard enough that your own cock bounced against your stomach with each of his movements. It was a strange, heady mix of pleasures from front and back and it made you move your legs, spreading them wider. You had to have more of him inside you.
Macintosh spread his own legs in tandem, his thrusts growing shallower but stronger. Your whole body rocked back and forth on the bed with the force he exerted and you could spare energy only to squeeze down on him with every thrust and beg him for more. He had nothing to add, only grunting roughly.
One of his hooves slipped and he stumbled, only the meeting of your hips stopping him from falling. Jammed in as tight as could be you were speechless; this was what you were looking for. You clamped down with every drop of strength left to you but Mac just started up again, pistoning in and out of you, venting all the sleepless nights he'd no doubt had only his pillow to satisfy his needs.
Something changed just then, after he'd righted himself he'd had more leverage or he'd finally stretched you to your limits... it didn't matter but you knew he was getting close. His thrusts were speeding up again, each one hitting that perfect little sweet spot in you that drove you closer to your own orgasm. His body lowered over yours, your ears now filled with the sound of his panting, grunting, groaning, quiet, strangled begs for you to squeeze tighter, to help him.
But you couldn't. You could only grab one of his hooves and hold onto it for dear life, feeling a swell in your heart when he bent it to grip your palm. Maybe that's what did it.
Macintosh thrust one final time, the head of his cock suddenly swelling up as he cried out. One hot, viscous jet of his seed was sprayed into you and then with his hips bucking against your own he spilled his load. Each throb of his penis sent another splash of it filling you.
You could only lie there, muttering his name as his soft nose rubbed against your cheek. More than once you were sure you heard him saying your own name, between gasps and grunts as he continued to spill himself, thin rivulets running out of you and down your legs and his shaft as he didn't pull out.
Only when he was spent did he take a shaky step back, pulling himself out and letting his seed pour out of you. You were the first to fall to the bed with Macintosh following close behind. Mercifully he landed on his side, a hoof falling over your stomach. There was just enough energy left within him to pull you close to his still hot, damp with sweat body.
It couldn't have been more perfect.
Uncaring for the mess on his bedclothes or for how you might explain the ruckus, his lips pressed against the skin or your neck and cheek as he kissed you goodnight. There were no words exchanged, no promises of undying love. That much had been proven in what had passed between you.
Instead there was simply the irresistible heat of each other's body and the quiet call of slumber and contentment to lull you both into a deep sleep.
Such shared moments would become a feature of your days as much as the renewal of the love that had brought you together.
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A Tussle in the Orchard (colt-Big Macintosh x Anonymous Stallion)
His thick orange mane whipped about his neck and withers as Macintosh rolled his lips this way and that over the hot, hard shaft. Lost to the quiet moans of the stallion above him, the colt pushed the older pony’s hind legs apart and dove down, lapping at his cock the whole way. The thick musk that had once left him staring after was now filling his nostrils, intoxicating him until there was nothing in his mind save the one above him.
Macintosh ground his hind legs together, whimpering quietly as he trailed a hoof over his stomach and onto his own now turgid member. The other hoof kept stroking—long, slow motions that left him shivering—along the stallion’s penis. He slurped and sucked at whatever he could get past his lips, grinding his hoof as hard as he could against the slowly thickening head of the member above his head.
In a flash it was over; Mac pulled back, panting, and gazed at the mighty organ before him. The stallion had lost his breath too and a light sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. Their eyes met suddenly and he hoisted Macintosh into his hooves, pulling the colt in close until their lips met and the red pony’s body went as limp as a bag of zap apple jam. He’d never been kissed like this, never imagined that a stallion like that would even want to kiss him in that way. He could never have expected how hot his breath was, how it tasted of that same scent he’d been obsessed with, how… how strong that tongue was, wresting control from him!
The colt whimpered again, grinding his own member against the stallion’s. They’d fallen back onto the packed earth of the trail but were at least still covered by the tree, overhead. No passing pegasus or curious unicorn could spy them out here.
Just as quickly, though, the kiss was broken and the two ponies lay there staring into each other’s eyes. The older stallion brushed aside a lock of Macintosh’s mane, his smile turning a little wan.
"I’m sorry, Mac I really… really shouldn’t have done tha-MMPH!"
Macintosh wasn’t sorry it happened but that it had to end. He wasn’t sorry when the big stallion between his legs groaned and ran his hooves down his slender body, all lanky with the growth spurts of early puberty. When those hooves touched upon his pert little rump, the colt rolled his hips from side to side, trying to grind himself on his partner but he wasn’t positioned just right and the stallion’s member was still trapped under his stomach, liberally coating his coat with the results of arousal.
"Celestia! Mac, you’re insatiable!" It was with some effort that the two broke their kiss again and the stallion’s voice was breathy but low. "Mmmh! Think you’re up for another round?"
Macintosh nodded, unsure of what those words meant but working his best to figure out the meaning. When he pushed himself up, sitting back until his penis rested on the big stallion’s balls and the their owner’s long member was between his hooves, the stallion nodded, smiling sweetly. It was a smile that made Mac’s legs feel like rubber and his cock like a steel bar.
"Ah wanna taste ya." It was barely above a whisper, almost lost to his frantic panting. "Please."
The older stallion hefted his member up under his hoof, giving a few strokes until a few globs of pre had pooled on the tip.
"I’m all yours."
The words were like an electric shock to the colt who lunged forward, wrapping his lips around the thick, black cock so tightly the stallion gasped and bucked his hips. It sent another strand of pre across the colt’s tongue and Macintosh giddily swallowed it, eagerly swiping and swirling his tongue across the sensitive flesh to lap up whatever more he could.
A hoof that wasn’t his own slid between his hind legs and ground along the length of his penis, the stallion groaning again but resting a hoof on the back of Macintosh’s head. But it wasn’t his mouth that ached and begged to be filled.
The more he sucked the more he wanted, though and the hoof that gently but insistently pushed at his head did much to assuage the rising feelings of desire from that part of him. Macintosh let his eyes fall shut and pulled off the meaty penis with a muted pop; a thin line of precum ran down his chin and he licked it clean, considering the best way to go about this again. It seemed so much more manageable when the stallion was flaccid, cock swinging between his legs before red hooves set about getting it hard.
Memory of that—of his hoof by turns stroking its length and rubbing the stallion’s smooth stomach—led the colt back towards his prize, pressing his lips against the head that had flared too widely to take into his mouth again. It didn’t stop Macintosh from sucking, though, from wiggling his mouth about on it, slathering it in saliva and doing his best to make the stallion feel good.
"Ohh, bright Celestia," the stallion groaned, "you’re a natural, Mac." But he saw where the colt’s hoof was now, below his quivering, throbbing member and rubbing something else that needed attention. "Mac?"
He looked up idly, still intent on getting as much of that liquid from the stallion as he could.
"Come up here. I wanna return your kindness." Macintosh started to pull himself up but the stallion just shook his head, chuckling. "Turn your rump around, Mac. I wanna see that beautiful little butt."
Shivering in a mix of anticipation and anxiety, Macintosh did as he was bade and stood up, turning himself around so his behind and tail were bared to the stallion. Two hooves hooked themselves into his thighs and gently pulled him back until he was sort of straddling the older pony’s head and his twitching cock was in just the right position for Macintosh to lean down and lap at…
But those thoughts died when he felt the hooves on his thighs sweep up and around onto the cheeks of his rump, one pushing his tail up and aside.
"Moon’n’sun, you look delicious. C’mere!" There was a hunger in those words Macintosh couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. His shaking legs gave out from under him and he landed on the stallion’s face with a soft grunt.
Something hot and wet and touching all the right places slithered out against his taint, making the colt gasp and shudder but still easily held in place by the stallion. The tongue make slow tracks against the bare skin of his balls, a pair of lips sucking one in as it was washed carefully, lovingly by that tongue. Macintosh groaned, laying his head on the stallion’s stomach so that his cock was right before his nose. His cheeks burned with the knowledge of what was being done to him, with how they must have appeared and the blush only intensified when he snaked his tongue out to lick at the flared head of his partner’s penis.
The stallion moaned again, bringing his hooves up to rub at Macintosh’s rump in gentle, sweeping arcs. The tender flesh quivered under his grasp and he licked his lips, eager to taste what the colt had to give. His goal was clear – the little puckered hole right under his golden orange tail.
Macintosh could never have expected it, never ,in his wildest fantasies, imagined the stallion’s tongue dancing ever closer to that sensitive spot. Every stroke closer made the quivering colt shake harder, until he was like a leaf in the breeze, held in place only by the stallion’s strong hooves. He could only idly lap his tongue at the hot shaft of meat before him, mind quickly and inexorably turning to what it would be like something equally wet and hot in place of the tongue.
A yelp came from the colt when the thick tongue finally slithered its way past his tight little ring, worming around in ever increasing circles. Macintosh held on to the stallion’s hips for dear life, his whole body trying to rock back and only helped on by a hoof on his back gently pulling him while the other stroked his rump. Lips hungrily pressed in against his soft behind, the stallion’s tongue deeply buried in, wantonly working its way inside Macintosh.
"Augh! Ngh-hah! More! M-More, please!" Where did that come from? The idea of telling the stallion what to do was never on his mind but… he wanted more. Wanted every last inch the stallion could give him!
Growling, his partner grabbed his rump and gave a sharp tug back until Macintosh was practically sitting back on the stallion’s head, wiggling his rump as his tongue relentlessly lubed him up. That must have been what he was doing, it was what he heard stallions did – which meant he’d have to get that thick rod lubed up too!
Fighting against his increasing desire to sit there and just let the stallion eat him out, Macintosh leaned forwards and lovingly lathered his tongue across the head and shaft of the stallion, grunting in part from the effort and part from frustration of wanting it inside him. Too many nights before had been spent alone in bed, grinding a hoof against his rump while thinking of that gorgeous guy.
"Ah," the stallion gasped, pulling free of he colt, "alright Mac… o-… okay… Mmmh! What’s say I put this little butt to work?"
It was one thing to idly think about it, even when that wonderful tongue was swirling around inside him, quite another to have the very thing he’d worked himself up for presented to him. Macintosh’s eyes ran the length of the Stallion’s member, examining every vein and curve. It put his own to shame, surely, but it stirred up feelings more powerful than any he’d had when just watching the stallion.
The colt glanced back, his green eyes glimmering. "Ah… Ah’ve never done anythin’ like this before."
Unexpectedly, the stallion just smiled at him, motioning Macintosh to step off—something he did with more than a little sorrow for the tongue that would be missing—and then pushed himself back against the trunk of the tree. Taking one little red hoof in his own, he led the colt back to himself and pulled him in, drawing a gasp.
"Listen, Mac, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you, okay? If this gets too much for you at any time just say it and we can stop." The stallion’s voice sounded sincere and he hadn’t pushed Macintosh to do anything he’d done.
But it wasn’t just those words that made Macintosh sink in against him, it was those soft lips that called to him. His own sought them out again, meeting only to part and permit his tongue entry. It was such a strange way of kissing but the colt was sure he could pick it up quickly enough. More than that, it left him leaning against the stallion again but this time he could put enough power into one hoof to push it down between their bodies that fought to get as close as possible, to grind against the stallion’s turgid member.
His lanky legs left him not too far off in terms of size but the rest of his body still paled, especially against the rippling muscles of the older stallion. To say nothing of his massive hooves, one of which came down just as quickly over Macintosh’s back to rub at his rump again. The colt could only whine into the kiss, pushing himself back onto the hoof; he wanted more, needed it! Months of pent up frustration and emotion were bubbling to the surface leaving his eyes watering and his lips struggling to press harder against his lover’s.
The stallion, feeling a tear on his cheek snapped open his eyes and looked keenly at Macintosh.
"Mac? Wh-What’s wrong?"
The colts hooves stroked along his chest and stomach, his voice punctuated by odd kisses against the stallion’s neck and chest. "Ah want ya! Nngh! Celestia, Ah want ya so much it hurts!"
He was grinding himself on the stallion’s length, smearing the saliva from that hot mouth along it but doing nothing to dampen the need for it inside him. Since the first day he’d seen the stallion talking with his father he’d felt this way, this need for him. It’d taken so long just to work up the courage to speak a hoofful of words and the joy he’d felt when the stallion smiled and gratefully took the mug of cider… Macintosh had no words for it.
"Easy now, I got ya." The stallion leaned in close, kissing at the colt’s tear-stained cheeks. "Mac, listen to me – we’ve gotta start this off gentle, alright? Take your time, I’m not going to leave you."
He was still shaking, even after hearing those words but it wasn’t from frustration – that had thankfully been relieved with that outburst. Now it was excitement that left the colt shivering, anticipation for what they were about to do. A hoof pushed aside his mane again and Macintosh smiled and nodded, watching as the stallion shuffled lower underneath him. The thick, black cock that had been pressed against him near the middle was moving too. When his partner stopped the tip was resting at his rump.
It was a strange and wonderful feeling, that hot, hard flesh just dribbling pre onto his flanks. The stallion kissed him once, twice and then mouthed for Macintosh to press back.
The pressure that rose felt… right. He had seen the other colts at school but none of them could compare to this, none of them would have felt the way the stallion below him did. He could feel the power behind the hips that pushed the flared head of his cock against his tight rump, teeth gritted with the effort only for the two of them to suddenly slide against one another leaving both shaking from the sensations.
As it happened, his cock had slid underneath Macintosh and both of them quickly picked up a gentle rhythm from that first rub. The colt let out a long, throaty moan as he straddled the cock and rocked his own against it. Their members slicked one another with their respective pre and their lips came together more than once until by chance again, Macintosh pushed too far and landed on the stallion’s chest, his little rump riding high in contrast until he felt the massive prick press against him again and he pushed with all his strength.
There was a slight stinging sensation, one that grew as he pushed, wincing and gritting his teeth as he went on, willing himself to take it. Precum bubbled from the tip, smearing around his behind and helping it along. Macintosh’s hooves dug into the ground and the stallion’s gripped his flanks so hard he was sure they’d leave marks. But finally, after the two had pushed as hard as they could there was a wet pop.
Macintosh bit down on his hoof to keep from crying out, such was the heat that stung. He’d never been stretched so far in his life and that was just the tip! The stallion stroked his back and kissed him, mumbling words of encouragement, that the worst was over. There was no doubt in the colt’s mind but he still stood there, letting the feeling slowly pass until finally their eyes met and he nodded.
His cock bounced against his stomach when the stallion began to push again, the burning sensation returning but thankfully not as intense as before. Inch by agonising inch more of that monstrous organ slid in, both ponies working their best to help it. By the time he’d reached the medial ring, Macintosh was pushing back again, willing more of it to be inside of him despite how full he already felt.
Sweat dripped from his brow and he hooked his hooves over the stallion’s withers, holding on tight, clinging to the thick, musky scent from his chest as the medial ring passed and along with it a burst of tingling pleasure. Macintosh could only moan, letting the stallion push his rump down the rest of the way until their bodies met and they let out sighs of relief.
"How do you feel," the stallion whispered, stroking the colt’s rump. It was incredible how smooth and soft it felt.
"Full." Came his answer, along with a grin. "Ah like it." And then a kiss.
If he ever tired of those kisses… The idea was incomprehensible to Macintosh, The only way they might even be better is if the stallion was pinning him down, maybe even on his own bed. But nothing could top the firm lips that pressed to his own or the way a pair of hooves held onto his rump and made gentle little motions around on it. Just like the stallion was doing right now.
"Buck," he swore, breaking their kiss, "How’re you so tight, Mac?" It was half-grunted out through a wide grin as the hooves at Macintosh’s back fell away and the colt propped himself against his lover’s chest.
"Ah think you’re just big." It was hard to talk, hard to think beyond that feeling of fullness, the hot, throbbing organ filling him. It pulsed gently in time with the stallion’s heartbeat which Mac felt against his hoof.
"Ready to move again?" The stallion’s voice was soft, quiet, reassuring when the thought of more pain came to the fore of Macintosh’s mind. "We’ll go nice and easy, I promise it’ll start to feel better."
And sure enough, when Macintosh nodded and felt the stallion grip his withers and gently pull him forward as he tilted his hips back, the pain had greatly subsided. Every inch of the stallion’s cock that passed against him left more ripples of pleasure, making the colt shiver through the whole process. The stallion was wincing however but Macintosh knew well it wasn’t in pain, that the languid posture of his body and the way he bit his lip said what he didn’t – he was in heaven.
The colt involuntarily squeezed down upon feeling the medial ring pop out of him, desperation creeping into his thoughts at the feeling of being empty. That earlier feeling of rightness was something he couldn’t explain and could barely understand, all he knew was that with this stallion he felt it and he didn’t want to stop feeling it.
That squeezing had only one effect and it was to make the head of the stallion’s cock flare out further, slowing the process but not halting it. Their lips hungrily sought each other out again just as he was about to pull out of the colt and he felt the weight of his lithe body fall against his own when his member came out with a quiet, wet plop. He was so hard the sensation bordered on pain and these kisses weren’t helping.
"Please," Macintosh whispered, still kissing and gasping when the stallion nibbled his ear, "p-put it back in." He was rocking his hips, more back than forward and couldn’t keep a whine from his voice when he felt the stiff member poking at him.
But the stallion only lined himself up, letting the colt sink back onto him. It was a struggle not to thrust, to bury himself to the hilt in one fell buck of his hips but he needed to let his lover adjust. That and it was cute watching the colt dig his hooves in and push himself back.
For Macintosh, taking the stallion was a slower affair now than the first time. The sting that had proven so horrible was barely noticeable now and he revelled in the feeling of slowly being stretched as the flared head sank in. When he opened his eyes and looked down the stallion was smiling, gently stroking his chest. It took all of Macintosh’s will not to let his legs collapse from under him again; more again when he started pushing down onto his partner in earnest. With all that precum still dribbling it was easier than before, easier to just slowly lower himself onto the stiff rod of flesh.
"Okay… Okay, Mac, nice’n’ sl-OH!"
It wasn’t just the vice-like grip on his cock when the medial ring passed, nor the heat that seemed to intensity – it was how Mac just slammed his hips down at the passing. The colt gave out a cry, hips aching to meet with his lover’s as desire took over and he thrust himself down. The last few inches of the stallion’s member filled what could be, Macintosh bottoming out only to grind himself against a pair of hips that worked just as desperately against his own.
"Oh, Mac! Mac, you’re amazing! Now squeeze, s-squeeze it! Hard as you can!" The stallion’s hooves danced on his back with the intensity of his voice. Pressure mounted quickly between the colt’s legs and he could find only the wherewithal to obey the stallion, clenching down with whatever strength was left to him. Both ponies cried out, uncaring for who might hear, thinking only of the exquisite pleasure passing from one to the other.
The two held onto each other tightly, Macintosh starting to squirm slightly at the sensation of precum leaking into him so deeply. He wanted more, wanted… wanted to ride the stallion like he’d peeked in on older ponies doing. His body ached and cried out for more, more, more! That first thrust had been the start of something magnificent but Macintosh could only guess at how much better it might be.
Without the stallion’s encouragement or instruction, Macintosh started to rock himself back and forth. Gently at first, not even moving an inch on the thick member buried in him, just getting a feel for what it was like to move more fluidly. The colt bit down on his tongue, holding his voice against any more sounds he might make. The more he moved the more he wanted to cry out, kiss his lover, sit back and bounce on him like he was a mattress… But size more than anything else after opening up to the idea, kept the colt from moving too much.
That was, at least, until the stallion started moving with him. Just as slow, too, building up until a couple of inches were sliding in and out of Macintosh. His hooves clung to the colt, holding him tight to his body when each thrust made him shake with the force. There was no holding him back now, he had to have Macintosh. The young pony was just as insistent, though, much to the stallion’s delight; each thrust forward was met with one back against him. If he wasn’t putting just as much effort into holding it off he was sure he would have let loose right then and there.
"C’mon, Mac," he muttered between quick little kisses, "harder."
Those hooves fell away as Macintosh pushed himself up on his hooves, gazing down to the stallion as he thrust back with all his strength again. Just as quickly he pulled himself up until the medial ring of that cock had slipped out of him and then thrust, landing with a dull smack against the stallion’s thighs. That was it! His forelegs were gripped suddenly, his lover mumbling something incomprehensible and squinting his eyes closed – if he felt half as good as Macintosh did, the colt was sure, he must be barely keeping himself in check.
Each bounce upon the stiff cock made Macintosh’s own bob back and hit his stomach, a strand of precum spurting onto the stallion’s chest each time. It was a struggle not to start stroking himself with a hoof, one that was thankfully forgotten as the stallion did it for him. In a flash of desire sped on by the sudden waves of pleasure from both parts of his body, Macintosh took one of the stallion’s hooves in his own and brought it around to his rump, holding it there until he was sure his lover would continue. And he did, rubbing and stroking, squeezing the pert little cheek now and then while he continued to bounce up and down.
Both were slicked with sweat, the stallion starting to put more force into each of his thrusts – so much so that Macintosh’s whole body shook with each one. The colt’s mouth was open in a wide O as his attempts to stem back the tide of moaning and grunting were lost to that pleasure, that… fullness which came from each thrust. When he didn’t thrust back the whole way he whimpered and pushed off against the stallion’s chest at the next one, pausing for brief seconds to grind himself about against his thighs.
For himself, the stallion’s nostrils had flared out with the exertion of working the colt over; his hooves had dug themselves into the dirt, gripping to put yet more strength behind his hips. Too long had been spent watching the colt and not enough in relieving the tension created by that, now it was all being released at last.
"Wait! W-Wait, Ah… Ah can’t hold it," Macintosh cried, fighting the urge to let the stallion continue stroking his cock.
"Let it come, Mac!" The hoof squeezed one of his balls at those words and the colt whined, thrusting forward. "Gimme all you got!"
He was resigned to it, getting this colt off had to be done. His hoof stroked and rubbed as best he could, made circles on the rapidly flaring head of his lover until he felt it starting to twitch. Macintosh, whose cries were increasing in pitch and volume, thrust himself down on the stallion, holding there as his cock throbbed with a pleasure so intense he was sure this had to be a dream and then shot a long string of semen across the chest and face of his lover. But that hoof didn’t stop and the hips behind starting moving again, thrusting harder. It forced more cum from the colt, his body shaking all over until he collapsed on the small pool of semen on the stallion and let himself ride out the rest of his orgasm, letting his lover take over.
It was so tempting to let go just then, to finish just as the colt was rhythmically squeezing but he wanted him to remember this. His thrusts sped up, increased in force until Macintosh’s body was being rocked about and he was sure the red colt was lucid again. Their eyes met and that was the moment he knew he couldn’t hold on; he made one last thrust, burying himself to he hilt and then felt pleasure radiate out from there.
Macintosh was grinding on him again, squeezing and milking whatever semen he could as the flared cock head emptied all it had into him. He’d seen those fat testicles dangling between those powerful legs but to feel them emptying their load like this, so deeply inside him, it was… there weren’t words for it. The heat, the pressure, the way that member throbbed angrily, it was almost like electricity was running through him.
The stallion made a few last little thrusts, semen leaking out of the colt despite his attempts to keep as much inside as he could. Maybe he could take a trip to Canterlot and buy one of those magically enchanted things to insert after doing this again… Would there be an again? That wonderful warming pleasure, the heat of his lover and the look of utter contentment in his eyes assured him that yes, he had won Macintosh’s heart.
The two ponies lay like that, together, until the stallion’s orgasm subsided and his cock came out of Macintosh with a loud, wet pop. They kissed once, twice, snuggling into each other under the shade of the apple tree. Surely they’d continue to be undisturbed in such a quiet place, free to simply bask in the warmth and love of each other.
It was some time later when Macintosh woke up, fearful at first but then flooded with relief upon realising he was still in the warm grasp of his lover. He was already awake, watching him with a small grin.
"Welcome back, sweetie," he cooed, giving Macintosh a peck on his lips. The colt could only blush and try not to giggle. "I meant what I said earlier, you know; you really are amazing." Another kiss. "I’d really love if we could stay here but we’ve gotta go our separate ways, right?"
It was like somepony had told him he wouldn’t be able to buck apples any more, Macintosh’s heart fell and he felt his stomach rise.
"Hey, no, whoah, whoah!" The stallion pulled him in close, nuzzling tight against his neck. "I didn’t mean forever! No! Tell ya what, if you meet me out the back of the barn in two nights we can have some fun again. Sound alright?"
There was no other answer he could give, no way to tell him of the rush of emotions except to dive in and kiss the stallion.
Two nights. Just two nights and, armed with what he’d learned today, he could have the time of his life.
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Bungle in Rumble (You x Rumble) [very rough draft]
Leaning over him, you grind his stiff cock between your thighs as you lock lips. Those little wings of his flutter as you squeeze and squeeze, letting your tongue roll over his…
Rumble quietly, breathily says your name, undulating his hips back and forth, trying to build up a rhythm. Maybe you’d let him, or maybe you’d prefer to sit back and take in the full view and show him just how dexterous human hands can be. Then you might be forced to clean yourself up when he inevitably spills over your fingers.
Already having worked himself into such a terrible state it’d be oh, so easy to keep him going. Not enough to be pushed over the edge, just kept dancing on it, unable to stop the flow of that hot, thick liquid. Especially if you were to sweep your thumb over and back on the medial ring of that cock, each time you do so making him jump under you. Going on and on until eventually you’d just… have a hand covered in that sticky love.
So… perhaps then it might be the better option to just use your mouth and keep him and yourself clean. Even if Rumble would be left a shivering, moaning mess barely able to say your name and plead with you not to stop. Would you want to, though? With that sweet juice trickling down your throat it might well be difficult to bring yourself to stop.
It might or might not take a little push against his chest to send the colt falling back, leaving his hind legs splayed wide and you with greater access to him. Access you take full advantage of, bobbing your head on his turgid member, inching your way down and down until your lips and tongue would pass over the thick medial ring. Poor Rumble would be reduced to a whimpering, moaning mess at that stage, weakly bucking his hips every time you start pulling off his cock.
Moreso if you were to leave just the rapidly flaring head of his penis in your mouth, swirling your tongue over and back on it, lapping up the copious precum that dribbles from it. A hand on the base of his shaft would keep him still but not from trying to push against you, not from whispering that he has to be inside you.
That might be when you’d come off him fully with a little wet plop, licking your lips clean of his love and giving the colt a wide grin. So he wants to be inside you? He’d never been so forward before but for a cute guy like him you couldn’t possibly turn him down. So it might be with a look of confusion that Rumble would feel your hands sweeping up over his abdomen and chest, coming to rest on either side of his head. His quiet inquiry as to what you’re doing cut off as your lips meet his again.
It’s a taste you’ll never tire of—light like a fresh spring rain—intermingled with his emissions to create a heady, intoxicating flavour that, naturally, would have you both softly moaning. More on Rumble’s part when you’d shuffle forward, straddling his waist and pushing his hind legs aside. One long, slow motion would see you resting gently on his stomach with his stiff, black cock wedged achingly against you. It’d only take a little more for him to start grinding it, with you rocking your hips back and forth on him, kissing his cheeks and nibbling his ear.
And then he’d be left there, on the precipice with his cock pressed against you impatiently, waiting to be pushed in. Did he really want to do you like that? If he doesn’t want to go all the way you’d never force him. It’d be in between your kisses and his peppering your neck that he’d breathlessly admit he’d been fantasising about it, finding quiet moments to turn his thoughts to you and all the things he’d never spoke of but would still love to do.
That would be it, one hand sliding back over his thigh to grip his cock tight and rub it against you, making the colt whimper and buck his hips. It might even make a few strings of precum splash against you, at least until you’d start slowly pushing back onto him.
Those cute little hooves of his would tap against your chest, trying to push you on into taking more of that thick, slicked up cock of his. Rumble would squirm below you, partly to try to manoeuvre his stiff wings out from under him and partly to push his hips out of your grasp; you might well wind up doing a little wiggling of your own, grinning down at the colt as you slowly slip him inside you. Every inch makes his cock throb, draws another few drops of pre to help him into you.
Rumble’s big purple eyes would be unmoving from your own, his hooves sliding down your chest as the last couple of inches of his member slide in and you sit back onto his haunches. Your own smile would’ve grown since then, one hand stroking a hind leg while you rock your hips back and forth – that full feeling is far more enjoyable this time, knowing who it is that’s filling you. His smooth grey chest rises and falls quickly in sharp little gasps, the thick organ in you twitching and throbbing, begging for release in a way he isn’t.
It’d just take one awkward little bend to get yourself down face-to-face again, close enough to feel his hot little pants washing over you. Close enough to just lean in and kiss him, parting his lips with your tongue and delighting in that now familiar taste. Something like that might well make the colt shiver all over, his legs squeezing your hips as he struggles to thrust. But you’d be the one firmly in control, ready to show him you’re interested in more than just teasing as you sit back up, balancing yourself with a hand on his chest.
A few more rocking motions, grinding yourself on him would be enough to draw a few more quiet whimpers, to make him drop a hoof down to stroke along and around the head of your own painfully stiff cock. The suddenness might make you jump, coming back down onto Rumble hard, with a dull, muted thump of your behind meeting his thighs. The only thing stopping the colt from crying out in pleasure would be the hoof he’d have jammed into his mouth but his eyes would say it all – that felt way too good. So swinging your hands over his shoulders to balance yourself better on the bed you might want to whisper down to him that you’ve only started.
The hoof would come out of his mouth, Rumble readying himself to ask what you mean but not before you’d have already started pulling yourself up off him, wincing at the ripples of pleasure that medial ring of his would send shooting as you pull off it. With no hoof cutting off his voice, the poor colt would be reduced to clamping his mouth shut reflexively as he tries to conceal his moans. But you, knowing how easy it would be, might gently part his lips and tell him you want to hear every sound he makes. The confused look on his eyes would be lost in an instant.
In the singular instant you roughly thrust back down onto him with a grunt, a hot, thick gob of pre spurting from his cock as Rumble cries out.
A little more grinding, more whispered promises of how you’re going to milk him dry; they’d pass between you before you’d lift off him again, further this time, before making another hard thrust back down onto his aching cock. With nothing else to do, Rumble would just reach out and hold onto your arms with his hooves, holding on for dear life as you slowly start to build up a rhythm. Slow, of course, because this colt’s a lot thicker than you might’ve imagined; both of you are driven into long, passionate groans as you keep thrusting.
His charcoal mane would be a mess, eyes half closed but still locked on yours, his whole body shaking both with the force of your thrusts and the mounting pleasure. It would almost be a fight to keep pulling yourself off him, to leave yourself empty of that hot member, only to let out a long, sonorous groan as you grunt his name and tell him he better not cum too quick, you’re determined to make sure you both enjoy this. With an "Mmph!" and an "Mmm!" he’d shake his head, despite thrusting up to meet your own downstrokes.
The bed would be creaking and groaning in protest underneath you, unused to he combined weight of you both but that would be long forgotten by the time you’re struggling to keep yourself upright, sweat rolling over your skin as you ride the colt beneath you. His grey legs would be splayed wide by now, charcoal tail flicking about wildly between them as you show no signs in letting up. Each thrust brings you to the tip of his cock, leaving just the flared head inside before you drop yourself down and take it to the hilt, making the colt let loose another cry of pleasure.
It would only be after you’ve felt his cockhead flare out to its maximum that you’d hear him struggling to say something… something about not being able to hold it in, it’s too much. You, of course, wouldn’t make any reply except to pour the last of your strength into squeezing down on his cock with each thrust and push down harder with each pass. Not that you’d be able to do much, by now Rumble would be thrusting in to you with whatever strength he has – enough to draw a dull slap each time, at least. The high cries of the colt would grow, on and on until he makes one last thrust and yells out and you thrust back onto him, pushing him deep into the bed as his cock twitches… and shoots out the first hot load of his semen.
That would’ve been what you were working to all this time, driving him on mercilessly until his cock was jammed in deep enough for you to feel the heat and wetness of that cum start to fill you. Every throb makes the colt grunt and thrust, fruitlessly trying to bury himself deeper in you; the only thing he accomplishes is letting some of his semen trickle out of you, forcing you to push back down to keep it in.
But the exertion would well prove too much, with you falling to one side with Rumble still stuck in you, still stuck in the throes of his orgasm. So you’d be forced to roll onto your back, letting the colt keep a tight hold on your hips to keep himself in with his wings snapping out behind him.
Only when the flow of his cum would start to die down would both of you relax, Rumble flopping onto your stomach to pant heavily with those beautiful purple eyes still looking up at you and a tired smile on his lips. You certainly hadn’t expected any of this tonight but you’re more than happy to have experienced it.
But if the way Rumble’s eyes trail down to your still stiff member are any indication, he hasn’t any plans of letting this end right now.
Rumble’s breath is hot, his chest heaving as air wafts over your member; every time he does so it twitches, so much so that the colt grins and starts to slowly lean in. The warmth intensifies and you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to go on, so caught are you in just staring at him. With a little grey hoof, he lifts your cock back and places the smallest, sweetest kiss you’ve had from him in some time on the tip.
You grunt out an oath, tossing your head back into the pillow. All that’d happened has left you more worked up than you thought, though the hope that Rumble doesn’t take advantage of that bubbles to the fore of your mind. That thought dissolves upon feeling him part his lips and languidly lap his tongue against your penis in a long, slow stroke. You’re shaking by the time he’s gone over the head—having stopped only to lick clean a drop of precum that’d formed—the only thing keeping you from reflexively closing your legs are Rumble's hooves, gently keeping them apart.
The colt shuffles back and you sit up, leaning against the headboard of the bed to look down at him – his mane’s matted with sweat but there’s a glint in his eyes that you know all too well. His hooves trail up and down along your thighs while behind him, his tail starts swishing mischievously again. You’ve seen that look before – the last time he snuck into the shower after you and confronted you before stepping in under the water, when you were watching "Daring Do and the Wizard’s Manse" and his hoof started wandering over to rub at your jeans (followed shortly after by the rest of him) and that one morning you’d somehow awoken to a terrible case of morning wood and Rumble lying on your chest…
With each stroke of his hooves he starts moving in closer, ducking his head along the way until he’s straining to look up and you. That’s when it happens – that little tongue flicks out against one of your balls. Then again… and again when he moves back, each time licking a little further. Rumble keeps it up until he’s just pressed in against you, slathering his tongue about and then, without warning, opens his mouth wide and sucks it in. There’s just enough room for it to fit but that’s not what’s on your mind right now – it’s just how good this colt’s hot, moist mouth feels. He doesn’t suck with any great force but just enough to draw a little pleasure from the act, enough to leave you feeling like you couldn’t possibly get any stiffer.
From side to side he rolls it around in his mouth, swirling his tongue all over it and quietly moaning, the gentle vibrations adding a new dimension to it all. One of his hooves trails up and absently strokes along your cock while another reaches down between his hind legs. The hair of his mane tickles on your thigh and you continue to try not to make a sound while this colt pulls out all the stops. His hoof grinds against the head of your penis, the smooth underside having just enough pliability to feel oh, so good. But it all stops quite suddenly, ending with a loud pop as Rumble empties your testicle from his mouth. His gorgeous purple eyes are still on yours and in that moment he licks his lips, grabbing onto your thighs and pulling himself up.
Along the way his tongue stretches out and you immediately know what you’re in for – it sticks right to your cock, licking along the length of the shaft. Rumble stops at the head, making an agonisingly slow swirling motion around it before pressing his lips down. That’s when you finally break and let out a long, low groan. Your hand descends to his head, slipping through his dampened mane and onto his back to feel his wings that are, again, stiff as sheets of iron. The colt makes a few short bobbing and twisting motions, tugging his tongue this way and that as he slurps and sucks on your cock.
You can’t help it, you quietly ask him to go on, he’s driving you crazy. Still having kept his eyes on you, Rumble gives no indication as to his intentions. He just gives one hard suck, pulls up while still lapping at the head of your penis and then lets a wide grin tug back his lips. Another little kiss is laid against your member before he moves back down, taking it into his mouth again but this time he doesn’t stop; this time he just keeps going. His tongue laps feverishly at your cock until there isn’t room to do so and he shuffles upwards, positioning himself so he’s leaning over you, still pressing down.
There’s no way… he can’t… he wouldn’t! But all doubts are washed away as Rumble slips down over the last few inches as his lips meet against your abdomen. His throat’s far tighter than his mouth but just as hot and invitingly wet. The most you can do to keep yourself from bucking your hips is to just roll them against the colt, pushing in and pulling out but slowly, agonisingly slow. The image of laying him on the edge of the bed and going for something rougher—as you go down on him too—flashes before your mind and you thrust, seeking out some semblance of it now. Rumble chokes but doesn’t pull himself off you, in fact he presses his hooves to your waist and closes his eyes, pushing down and drawing another groan from you.
He’s never been like this before; sure, he’d whispered a few of the things he’d love to do but you’d always kept it relatively tame until tonight. As tame as letting the colt hump your face could be considered, of course.
When Rumble does pull up he gasps loudly, heaving for breath as he continues to lean over your saliva-coated cock. You’re ready to tell him to take it easy but he apparently has other ideas in mind, standing on shaky legs to turn his back to you and climb onto your chest so that his rump is poking back towards your face. It’s a little awkward and you have to hold him but those grey hips feel so good in your grasp you can’t possibly complain. Especially not when he starts lowering himself back down, lapping at your cock until his lips slip over it and he sucks hard, drawing a few more drops of pre from you.
His hooves don’t press against your legs to steady himself as you’d expected and he wiggles free of your grasp. His mouth slides down over your member, coming flush against you again after he takes a breath and wraps his hooves around your thighs. Amidst a low moan you shift around so that he’s lying on your stomach and you’ve still got an ample view of his behind. Speaking of which… You can’t resist reaching up and gently kneading those gorgeous grey flanks. The colt struggles to moan around your penis lodged in his throat and you can only think it a shame you can’t reach further – you’ve thoroughly enjoyed eating that pert little butt out more than once and it only seems fair you give him something now.
The most you can manage is to reach a finger in while you continue to rub and knead, pressing down against his entrance. Rumble rolls his hips, sucking down harder on you and making you momentarily lose your grip as a wave of pleasure washes over you. There’s a loud pop, followed by a few gasps and the sight of Rumble’s mane raising as he turns back to you.
"Nngh, keep going!" He wiggles his hips enticingly, kissing at your cock. "Don’t s-stop and I won’t!"
Sure enough, his own member’s hardening against your stomach as you continue to roll your palms against his rump. Your grip tightens, fingers digging into those cheeks as his lips dive down on your penis. In his excitement, his tail flicks over and back on your head, leaving an intoxicating noseful of his musk in its wake. But it’s distracting slightly ticklish against your nose so you take a hold of it near the dock, lifting it up as you swipe your palm against his rear. Rumble redoubles his efforts, sucking down on you as you rub back and forth, each time letting one of your fingers pause briefly against that puckered little hole…
The only time you stop is to liberally lick it, coating it in saliva before you move your hand back against him and in one swift motion push your finger in. Rumble jumps – as much as he can and pulls himself off again, panting.
"Ahhn! Yes! Keep-mmph-keep doing that!"
Not content to let you win, though, he swaps just deepthroating you for bobbing on your member; his lips pass over you in ever quickening and ever deepening strokes. You could only have dreamed before now how good this could’ve felt and those thoughts couldn’t have done it justice. It’s why you jam your finger in to the hilt, making Rumble throw his head down onto your cock and kick his hind legs against the bed as he simultaneously pushes himself back onto your finger.
There’s a few more passes of that, more moments of pleasuring each other while you struggle to keep yourself from letting go. Maybe… on the next time you pull your finger out, you bring another with it, pushing harder against the colt’s rump and making his own member twitch violently against your stomach. Your hand’s resting on his back now, your mind lost in a sea of pleasure you’re eager to return to him and so you massage that sensitive spot you know is between his wings.
Rumble’s tongue works furiously, swirling around your shaft, lapping at the head, moving however it can when he deepthroats you… The colt’s hungry for whatever you have to give him, hungry for his own release if his rocking hips are any indication.
Your hand delves lower, resting on his head as you feel the heat and pleasure between your legs mounting. You’re practically holding him down, making little thrusts into him as you’re determined to see this out now. It’s close, so close, all it’d take is just a little more and you can fill this colt up…
It all happens at once – a lancing bolt of pleasure shoots through you just as you make one particularly hard thrust into Rumble’s throat. You slide your fingers into his mane, pushing him down hard as the first spurts of semen easily fill his throat. Rumble grips your legs tightly, pulling himself down onto you just as you push, struggling to swallow but making his best effort at it. It might not have been the best idea to ride the colt beforehand, you’re only realising now how worked up it made you; all the same, Rumble shows no signs of giving in.
Your grip on Rumble loosens but only because those wonderful feelings are too much and you just lie back, letting him take over. He’s still grinding into your stomach, still swallowing every drop you have… At least until he pulls off you with a gasp, coughing as a few more spurts of your seed land on his face. His whole body shivers when you pull your fingers out of him and both of you just lie there, the last few strands of your semen landing on his face and mane before it slowly dies down.
Rumble rolls over off you and you reach down, helping him to move up. It’s a slow laborious affair but when you see him you can’t help but chuckle at the sight of his cum-covered face. You, somehow, manage to drag yourself off the bed and make your way, on wobbling legs, to the bathroom to retrieve a towel. Rumble’s already moved over to the warm spot where you were lying, smiling at you as you lie down next to him again. He doesn’t make a sound as you wipe the worst of it off his face and mane but he does kiss you when you put your head down next to his.
The two of you snuggle up together, drawing the covers over yourselves. Your hand rests on the small of his back, holding him close in against you as the colt slips a hoof over your side. Tomorrow… Tomorrow you can wash the rest off. And maybe he can get some on you instead.
Movie Night (Thunderlane x Rumble)
It was one of those typical Saturday nights. The kind where his brother would be downstairs watching an action flick to unwind after a hard week's weather duty. While Rumble would join often enough, these days he found himself taking the time instead to retire to his room.
Lying on his cloud-print quilt, under the poster of Soarin' that adorned the wall his bed was pressed against, the colt turned his thoughts to his brother sitting on the couch below. He usually took up half of it, turned with his rump facing his younger brother. If he was feeling particularly frisky he might even swish his short tail about, offering the colt quick glimpses of the tight rump beneath.
Rumble sat up immediately, his wings flitting out and quivering with their stiffness. His heart felt like it had skipped a beat but more than that, the heat that touched his cheeks raced downwards to a point between his hind legs. That was why Thunderlane sat the way he did, Rumble knew - the colt would be left shuffling about on the couch, unable to get comfortable while his grey member threatened to poke out from under him. Sometimes Thunderlane's hoof would snake down and coax it out for him, rubbing at the flat tip until Rumble was panting.
Just like he was now. Without even realising, one of his own light grey hooves had descended to rub at the half-hardened member that flopped from its sheath. He could see it all: Thunderlane looking back at him with pleading eyes before he shuffled off the couch and sat in front of him, followed by him asking if he could take care of that 'little problem' for Rumble. Not that he really understood the why of him asking but... it felt kind of nice, having that kind of control. Even nicer was the look in Thunderlane's eyes when Rumble held his head and teasingly let his lips swipe across his cock but never pass over it.
The colt gasped, suddenly recalling where he was. His member was at full mast now, grey hoof rhythmically rubbing back and forth. Thunderlane would assure him it was big for his age and if the way it took Rumble two of his hooves to really stroke it was any indication, he wouldn't be lying. But then maybe he should sneak downstairs and wait for his brother to notice the hard cock poking from between his legs, knowing full well that he'd leap at the chance to take him back upstairs and...
"Whoah!"
Wings flaring out wildly behind him, Rumble suddenly found himself unbalanced and tumbling back onto his pillow. Both hooves reflexively dived between his hind legs, searching for something to grab onto but finding only his stiff cock. The almost-black thing bulged before him as his hind legs twitched and shook with every stroke of his hooves on it. Clear fluid pooled at the head, trickling down the shaft and pooling on his pelvis.
"Mmm... mmph, Thunderlane..." Rumble groaned, licking his lips, closing his eyes and imagining his brother waiting to be entered.
It had been a little embarrassing the first time. His body knew to thrust but beyond that he just did whatever came to mind and whatever Thunderlane asked him to do. It was he who would be in this position: on his back with his hind legs spread wide, begging for his brother's dick. It was all clear in his mind's eye.
There were magazines under Thunderlane's bed that he'd borrowed, surreptitiously. Photos abounded, of mares with stallions hunched over them and stallions sitting on the laps of others. That was something he really liked the thought of: mounting Thunderlane. Maybe... Maybe if he went down he could tell his brother to get off the couch and hoist his rump up, so Rumble, standing on the couch, would have just the right height to... No. No, he'd be the right height to have his head mounted.
The colt couldn't help but let out a muted whine, slipping down on the pillow so that his hips were thrust further forward. Forcing his eyes open, Rumble spotted his cock almost hanging right over his head. All those lessons with Blossomforth in limbering up had really helped... The idea had come to him one evening Thunderlane was out and he'd been left impossibly horny. If he could suck his own cock then he'd be able to take care of it when the older stallion was out.
So licking his lips once more, Rumble began to push his hips forward and his head out to meet it. Tongue dangling just beyond his mouth, it finally touched upon his stiff member and he suddenly thrust hard, pushing an inch past his lips. His cheeks burned half with the effort and part with the knowledge of just what he must look like but his mind quickly turned back to Thunderlane and imagining his older brother being the one doing the sucking.
Rumble's tail flattened down against his back, hind legs quivering as in his mind he envisioned Thunderlane's cock resting against him. His hips rolled back and forth, imagining him grinding himself upon it teasingly. Of course Thunderlane would never act without permission, pushed to its limit one morning where Rumble decided to have a little fun with the stallion's horrific case of morning wood.
But such ruminations could only be sustained for so long before the pleasure radiating out from his member became impossible to ignore. In a fit of weakness he wished it was Thunderlane's and his eyes rolled back in his head, thinking of the thick black cock filling his mouth.
"Hey Rumble, are you sure you wanna... miss... the movie..."
Far worse than earlier, Rumble's cheeks burned so brightly he feared he might catch flame. It was one thing to fantasise--especially while his brother actually did sit in the way he had pictured--but another thing entirely to be even just caught like this. Sure there'd been jokes between them, sometimes even turning to... suggestive topics.
Then that fateful evening where he'd been caught masturbating, they'd had a talk but ultimately it wound up with a tearful confession, gentle hugs and cuddling that somehow ended with him buried in his brother.
"Uh..." With a loud plop, Rumble pulled his cock out of his mouth and let his rump fall back to the bed. some unreadable expression passed over his brother's face, almost too quickly to see. "What... What're you doing?"
He couldn't speak, couldn't even think of words to say! All there was, was Thunderlane looking at him with that inexplicable expression and then he was trotting over, eyes never leaving Rumble's before he sat on the edge of the colt's bed.
"Look, Rumble... If you're into that kind of thing, it's okay." His black hooves tapped together quietly while his golden eyes searched his brother's face for something. "Lots of colts think about doing it. Even stallions do! Hay, I've tried to do it, for Celestia's sake!" And just like that the stallion's cheeks darkened to a deep red.
"Does that mean you'd do it for me?" Oh bright Celestia! Rumble clapped his wet hooves over his mouth, instantly regretting blurting that out. He was just so damned horny, all he could think of was the way his brother's rump sunk into the soft quilt and how his big, powerful wings looked good even tucked against his back...
There was a long silence, broken only by the sounds of the two ponies breathing heavily and eventually Thunderlane speaking up. "Remember when I said I loved you?" He reached a hoof out, taken instantly by the grey colt. "And that I'd do anything for you?" Rumble nodded. "I meant it, Rumble. But..." He knew what that grin meant, that sly smile that almost went from ear to ear. "I think I've got a better idea."
Without waiting for Rumble to respond, Thunderlane turned about and climbed onto the bed. He loomed over the colt until he slowly lay himself down and peered up between grey legs.
"Alright, I'm gonna give you a little hoof with this."
His hooves weren't shaking this time as he reached out and touched Rumble's thighs. The colt shivered, spreading his legs wide at the touch. That evening had started off with Thunderlane stroking him and if he was going to do that now... He barely noticed when his brother started to gently push him. Not enough that he was forced backwards but instead, Rumble felt his body incline back, like he'd been doing.
Hot breath wafted over his nether regions, warming and leaving a pleasurable tingling feeling in its wake. Thunderlane's golden eyes met his younger brother's purple and in that exchanged look, Rumble knew that whatever was going to happen would feel far better than a simple hoofjob.
"I'm just gonna get a little taste." Thunderlane murmured huskily, disappearing out of view.
Rumble could never have anticipated the warm, moist sensation that started at the dock of his tail and continued until it passed over his tight, puckered anus.
"Thunder!" The colt whined, shuffling his hips. The sensation was as ticklish as it was pleasurable but the more his brother lapped at him, the more the ticklishness subsided. In its wake was replaced a strange, mounting pressure. A quivering grey hoof reached down searchingly until it found its perch on a black head. "Thunderlane... more." And just like that he was tugging on Thunderlane, not knowing why but knowing he did want more of that tongue doing what it was doing.
Around and around it swirled on him - powerful, gentle, moistness and warmth all coalescing into a single point of pleasure concentrated on his rump. Rumble was practically tugging on Thunderlane's head, grunting and grinding himself against the stallion's nose. But it could never last - the stallion, with a flick of his tongue, left off his brother's now saliva-coated anus. The colt let out a cry, his whole body tensing up, cock spattering a fat gob of pre onto his chest.
Not one to leave him in need, Thunderlane dived back in just as quickly. This time, however, his tongue found purchase on the dark grey flesh of Rumble's taint. He lapped slowly from there, drawing a shiver from the grey colt as his hind legs came to rest on either side of Thunderlane's head. Upwards he licked, kissing the smooth skin there once before he leaned back down to press his lips against and then over one of those fat little testicles.
"B-Buck, Thunder!" Rumble loudly exclaimed, forgetting himself in the moment. Thunderlane had told him once before that whenever they made love like this it was alright to curse. He understood how difficult it was to maintain control.
A grey hoof stroked open a darker grey cock frantically, Rumble's tongue slipping out to reach for it...
"Mmph!" A small pop issued from Thunderlane's mouth as he dropped his brother's ball. "Wait! Rumble, please... let me do that for you."
His cock bobbed free from his grip as Rumble removed his hoof, the organ slapping dully against his stomach. Thunderlane licked his lips and shuffled forward on the bed, flapping his wings out once before settling them openly. They were already rising and Rumble's gaze was caught between that and his brother's mouth, descending over his member.
There was tenderness to the touch that the colt didn't expect; a black hoof pushed his thigh to one side to allow better access and Thunderlane made no haste in taking the colt's cock. The wide, flat head disappeared into his mouth, lips eagerly sucking against the shaft just under it and Rumble involuntarily thrust up, jamming another few inches in and forcing it against the back of the stallion's mouth.
Too far gone in pleasure, he barely noticed his younger brother's throaty moan as his eyes rolled back in his head. The warmth and wetness was oh, so inviting and Rumble could do nothing but lie back down as Thunderlane started suckling with abandon, slowly bobbing his head up and down on the stiff grey member. Precum bubbled from the tip and his tongue eagerly lapped at it, swallowing every drop.
Love shone in his eyes and Rumble couldn't shift his gaze from them, instead opting to gently stroke Thunderlane's mane. In time to that, his brother's hoof ran back and forth on his light grey thigh. It was almost relaxing, in a way, until the stallion inevitably came a little too far up.
"Thunder." He grunted and the stallion pulled off him. "Wha-... Why?" Rumble whined, watching a line of saliva run down his cock.
"Rumble, I want- I need you." Thunderlane's voice was quivering and as he stood, Rumble could see that the stallion was shaking slightly. "I didn't wanna say anything but I really missed you when I was watching the movie." He turned about slowly, Rumble's eyes tracing the lines of his long legs upwards to the smooth curve of his rump. "I was... kinda hoping we could have some fun, too." Slowly, gently, the stallion lowered himself down until his front half was lying off the bed and his rump was faced towards Rumble.
Sighing in part frustration and part effort, Rumble rocked himself back onto his haunches and stood. His cock bounced up against his stomach but thankfully he managed to stifle a small yelp, watching a string of precum shoot off and land just short of Thunderlane's rump. It was exactly as he'd pictured it in his fantasy: Thunderlane baring himself at just the right height and waiting for him to begin.
"Hey, Rumble, c-c'mon." The stallion wiggled his rump, tail coming up and flopping over his back. "Don't leave me hangin', little bro."
It all felt like a dream as Rumble slowly made his way across the bed. The closer he got, the larger the rump before him seemed to be but then it just had to be some kind of trick of light. Just to be sure, he ran a hoof across one cheek, feeling the flesh rippling underneath it. Thunderlane whimpered quietly, pushing himself back to no avail. What was it he'd been doing earlier?
There was just enough light to make out the tightly puckered anus right below the dock of Thunderlane's tail and it mesmerised Rumble. He hadn't really gotten that good of a look at it the last time but here, now, he could see how tight a fit it must have been for his brother. Before he knew it, he was leaned in close just letting his breath wash over it while watching how the stallion shivered at each exhalation.
He had to practically hug the rump before him to fit his hooves around it but he sunk down against it, pressing his lips to the small ring. Thunderlane gasped above him, shifting his hips again.
"R-Rumble! Buck, don't tease me..." His words descended into a garbled mess as the colt wormed his tongue out and against the stallion's behind. He wanted to make Thunderlane feel as good as he had but more than that, he wanted to hear him say it. "Guh, Rumble, please, I-I need you in me! Nngh!" No matter how he undulated his hips or pushed back, the colt continued the languid kiss.
His own arousal couldn't be long ignored, though and while a hoof reached back to stroke his own insistent erection gave some bit of relief, tonguing his brother was making it worse. The way he clenched down, the way he could feel the stallion's heartbeat, the way his hips rocked back and forth...
In a flash, Rumble had pulled out--Thunderlane yelping loudly and thrusting back--and thrown his forelegs onto Thunderlane's lower back. The stallion gazed back from his lowered position, giving a single nod before turning his attention to his brother's hips. Rumble shuffled forward, bringing the tip of his cock to the edge of his brother's entrance before stopping. He'd moved forward in the process, lying against the black stallion's back but his wings were thankfully fully extended.
"Do it." It was a simple request and one Rumble was sure he could easily fulfil. All he had to do was slowly push forward... And wind up with his cock grinding up against his brother's back passage without going in. A low, throaty moan came from below as Thunderlane gave a few shallow thrusts backwards, doing nothing other than further rubbing Rumble against himself.
"Thunder," Rumble called, "hold still."
But the stallion was insistent, continuing to rock back and forth in his futile efforts to get the colt in him.
"Can't." He grunted. "Need it. Need you ."
Frustration creeping in once again, Rumble took a chance and pushed against his brother as he leaned forward. His cock dropped down from where it had been pushed up and, lined up just right, finally hit the mark as the two ponies pushed in unison.
"Buck, buck, buck, buck..." Thunderlane whispered, feeling the colt's cock mercifully enter him.
Fueled by a mix of desire and having been kept on the edge, Rumble dug his hooves into the quilt and gave a hard thrust. It did little more than force another inch of his aching member into the stallion but it was enough to bring at least some measure of relief as the two let out sighs.
"C'mon, bro, all the way." His voice had such need in it, there was no way Rumble could ignore it.
Precum oozed from the tip, lubing up the way for Rumble to push on. In one long, smooth motion he pushed forward until his thighs met Thunderlane's rump. The heat and tightness was almost more intense than the first time he'd shared this with his brother and he couldn't stop himself from giving another thrust, futile as it was.
The stallion whined when he felt Rumble start to pull back out, reaching back with a hoof until he felt a smaller one take hold. It was maddening how much sensation that cock could elicit, continuing until he felt the medial ring bump against his anus and then pass by. He clenched down as hard as he could, desperate to stop his lover from pulling out entirely...
And then in one hard thrust, Rumble buried himself to the hilt amidst a grunt. The large rump beneath him rippled from the blow, his hoof doing little to steady it.
"Guh! Yes! K-Keep going, Rumble!" Thunderlane called out, squeezing down on the hoof in his. "Harder!"
He felt like he had to keep going; that tightness begged him to give it his all. And if Thunderlane wanted it there was no way he was going to say no.
So again Rumble started pulling out, this time until only the tip of his cock was left inside and then thrust, with every drop of strength he had. A dull slap resonated throughout the room as their bodies met and his brother let out another grunt, his rump tightening up momentarily before it returned to its pliable state.
Stood there, it was a little difficult to build up a decent rhythm. There was just enough room to pull out before thrusting hard but it wasn't enough.
Thunderlane, no doubt sensing it, slid forward further and Rumble fought to keep up until he realised his brother's rump was pressed against the side of the bed and facing almost directly up. Looking down he could see the stallion's forelegs splayed across the floor and a grin on his face. In this position it was a simple matter to grab on to Thunderlane's hips.
The first thrust was the hardest, for both of them. With gravity helping, Rumble's cock rammed into his brother's rump with a force that the colt couldn't have built up on his own. It rocked the stallion, making him bite his lip to stop from moaning too loudly. More than that, it left a lurid, wet smack ringing over his voice.
With a better vantage and more leverage holding onto his brother's hips, Rumble finally managed to speed up his thrusts. Slowly at first, stretching the stallion out a little but then working his way up as it became easier. His little wings fluttered against his back and the colt grinned, loving every second that he spent buried into his brother.
"Oh Celestia, more! Buck, p-please, more!"
He was lost to it now, Rumble could only go by Thunderlane's instruction. Just as he'd said, the colt put his back into his thrusts. He could feel his brother's rump shake under his thighs each time, each one drawing another cry of pleasure from the stallion.
Heaving, panting with the effort, Rumble felt his strength return at his brother's words. He grit his teeth, pulling out until the tip of his cock was practically being pulled back in and then dropped himself down, grinding himself in against the stallion to try and force yet more inches deeper.
But his earlier attentions caught up with him; it almost felt like he'd only started when he felt a familiar tightness rise in his lower half. It was accompanied by the sensation of the tip of his cock swelling out, making for a slightly more difficult time working the stallion over.
"Th-Thunderlane!" He cried out, not ceasing in his thrusts.
"Nngh, keep it in! D-Don't pull out, little bro, gimme all you got!" Thunderlane's words were somewhat overshadowed by the continuous thump-thump-thump of hips on rump, however and the colt knew he was right at the edge.
A few more thrusts were all it took for him to lose it, burying himself into his brother and pushing his head in against his back, hoping to muffle the worst of his cries. Flared as it was, his member was going nowhere as it loosed the first string of semen. One more thrust kept him going, his aching balls finally finding release.
The warm feeling shifted to hot as the colt felt his cum swell up around his cock, emptying load after load into the stallion until finally his orgasm began to slowly subside. For long moments more, though, the two stayed as they were, panting heavily. Rumble, exhausted and spent, flopped backwards, his soaked member falling out of Thunderlane with a wet plop.
Satisfied, he smiled contentedly and spread out on the quilt, awaiting his brother to join him. The dull clopping of hooves on the floor followed by the bedsprings creaking signaled his return. Thunderlane, on still shaky legs, fell to his brother's side and used the last of his energy to shift a hoof over him, pulling the colt close.
View Online
A Generous Tipper (Prince Blueblood x Atlas (the bellhop from "Sweet and Elite"))
With a muted 'pop', Prince Blueblood dropped the colt's member from his mouth and smiled up from between his grey legs.
"And you say you're only working here for the summer?"
Atlas shivered at the tone the Prince used. No adult ever spoke to him in such a way that made his mind swim with images of what had just been done to him.
"Y-Yes, sir... I needed some extra bits to pay for-" Oh no! He couldn't possibly risk embarrassing himself in front of the Prince by mentioning... that.
"Hmm?" Blueblood lazily tilted his head to one side, laying it against the colt's thigh. "Well, whatever it is, if you do a good job here there'll be a large tip for you, my boy."
He considered this a job? For Atlas it was heaven; no filly would look at him twice and yet here the Prince himself had practically thrown himself at the colt. His earlier misgivings about staying behind in his room were long since pushed out by other, more salacious thoughts.
"I-I always aim t-to please, si-AH!"
And just like that, the lovely warm wet sensation of the Prince's tongue wrapped itself around his penis. Atlas' eyes crossed and he shut them tight, his hooves sliding down to lose themselves in the thick golden locks of the mane that tickled his thighs. Something was building in him, something that felt incredible the longer the Prince did was he was doing.
"S-Sir, I can't... I..."
He cracked open an eye, glancing down to see the Prince staring back up with a cocked eyebrow. The only response he made was to flick his tongue out and against Atlas' balls, sending the colt into a spasm that pushed the Prince further down on his length.
If he could just have stayed like that, it would have been enough to push him over the edge but when Blueblood hoisted his hindlegs over his shoulders it was too much. His nose pressed against Atlas' pelvis, hot air blowing over his stomach and the saliva trailing down between his legs to nestle between the cheeks of his rump left the colt grunting and humping against the Prince's mouth.
Only a long, low moan left his lips as the pressure that'd been building within him was finally released. Channeled through his body and right down into the organ bobbing on the Prince's tongue, Atlas was lost to a world of pleasure. When the Prince kissed him it was a strange, wonderful feeling; doing something so utterly adult with somepony who wanted to do it. This was leagues ahead of it, ahead of the hoof he'd used to stroke it and the whispered words of what it'd be like.
Whimpering quietly, Atlas gave a few last thrusts as the last drops of his semen were eagerly lapped up by the Prince. Still licking his softening member, Blueblood grinned up to him.
"My, you certainly have a lot to give for colt your age, hmm?"
Through the haze of lingering pleasure and fatigue, Atlas heard shuffling but let his head fall to one side.
"I didn't know... that would happen..."
"Ahh, not to worry, my boy. I assure you, it was most appreciated." The Prince's voice was getting closer now. "Not like those filthy colts from those backwaters, you have the refined taste of a fine Canterlot stallion in the making."
He could feel Blueblood's breath on his cheek and, turning back, was greeted by the sight of two soft blue eyes and a softer smile over his head.
"But one must always repay others for their kindness, wouldn't you agree?"
Oh Celestia, what was he going to do? Tell his manager? Tell his parents? Tell... Princess Celestia?
"S-Sir, I-I'll do anything!"
"Hmm." The Prince stood and slowly walked forward, Atlas' eyes bulging at the sight of the stallion's muscled body. "All I ask is that you return the favour, my boy."
There, swinging between his hind legs was a monster almost as long as Atlas' foreleg. It throbbed rhythmically and at the tip, a single line of moisture like the one on his own ran down the length and dripped.
Atlas leaned forward, remembering how the Prince had tasted him and stretched out his tongue just under the tip. The drop of precum landed on it, giving him a taste that was sharp like citrus but slightly salty. It was a taste he was intent on experiencing more.
"Mmm, that's it, take your time, my boy. One must sample a stallion's seed like a fine wine, enjoying its aged scent beforeHNNGH!"
Atlas didn't really hear Blueblood and didn't really care what he might've been saying. That taste had awoken something within the colt, something that pushed him to press his lips to the tip of that long black shaft and kiss it as softly as the Prince had kissed him. His eyes fluttered shut and he let the droplets of precum that spilled forth roll over his lips and tongue.
As if by instinct, his hoof rose to steady the cock that throbbed and threatened to break free of his hold. The Prince had been kind in his gentleness, stroking and licking Atlas' member and the colt could think only of his words, repaying that kindness. Even if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing, the fact that Blueblood was moaning above him was enough to let him know he was doing something right.
"You-You're quite the eager colt, aren't you? Mmph, don't be afraid to go further; one must always count one's blessings in being tended to by such a fine, supple young thing as you."
If a filly had spoken those honeyed words to him, Atlas might have considered himself blessed. But here, now, with the image of the Prince's face scrunched up in pleasure filling his mind, he wanted more.
The Prince had slipped his lips over the tip of his cock, couldn't he do the same. Pulling back, Atlas' eyes bulged as he took in the enormity of the organ throbbing in front of his face. If he stretched his mouth as wide as it could go he could probably just about fit the tip in but anything more would be too much. The sight of his saliva dripping from the head of the Prince's member made such concerns difficult to focus on, however.
Inching forward again, Atlas pressed his lips against the tip as he'd done before but this time didn't stop as he pressed on. Above him, the Prince's voice rose in volume and pitch until he was left grunting out half formed words of encouragement to the colt. Sensing that moistening the tip might make its passage easier, Atlas swirled his tongue over it in wide circles. The Prince's legs buckled and only through some effort did he stop himself from falling on the colt below.
Still pressing himself on, Atlas let the cock do most of the work in stretching his mouth open. Precum now ran freely from it, trickling over his tongue and filling his throat with the rich taste. It was impossible to stifle a groan and once again, the Prince nearly lost his footing though this time began to shift himself forward. Surprised by the pressure, Atlas began to lean back until his head hit the lace frill of the pillow and Blueblood finally stopped.
Looking back, the colt could see that his partner had lowered his forelegs down while angling his low and stretching his legs. At this vantage, he was at the Prince's mercy; one quick thrust and his throat would be filled by the thick appendage. The thought was... exciting.
"Hah-Hah... let's... let's give you a break, then."
On shaky legs, the Prince pulled out with some effort. Atlas let out a long gasp, only then realising the breath that he'd been holding the entire time. His hoof took up the slack of holding the cock in place while gently stroking it to ensure more of that delicious fluid would be his.
"My, you're... quite the thirsty young thing, aren't you? What say we help one another out?"
Before he could make a reply, the Prince lightly thrust forward; with his hoof angling the member perfectly, it slid past Atlas' lips and a few inches into his mouth. The colt's eyes bulged and he struggled to keep his gag muscles in check while the thick invader throbbed harder than before, more of that fluid streaming out.
"Mmm! Just... Just relax, breath through your nose and... you'll find yourself alright, my boy!"
The Prince hadn't led him astray yet and the idea of losing out both on any kind of tip and the chance for more fun wasn't one Atlas was willing to consider; closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, the colt found his panic subsiding and the taste and scent of the male above him beginning to come to the fore of his senses.
"Excellent work! I daresay your talents are wasted waiting on the clientèle here. Perhaps I shall find myself in need of an aide when the summer is OH!"
Atlas wound his tongue around the tip and shaft of the cock in his mouth, eagerly lapping at the outflow of fluids. Now free of the need to balance him, his hooves went to work stroking what inches the stallion couldn't get into his mouth. The thing felt hot and hard and every time his hooves reached the point near the Prince's balls it would throb, oozing a thick gob of precum into his waiting throat.
Was this what it'd been like for Blueblood? He was a lot smaller and he didn't have any problems going all the way down his length. Just thinking about it made Atlas rub his hind legs together, already feeling his own member twitch and stir back to life. Even the moans he heard above him drove his arousal on, eventually moving him to reach one hoof down and stroke his rapidly hardening length in time to the other.
"Ah... Ah... A-Atlas, wasn't it? Oh never mind, I'm going to need you to hold your breath."
The Prince's head came into view and Atlas' eyes locked with the older stallion's.
"When I give the word, take a breath and hold it, alright? Remember not to panic, this should feel simply marvellous for both of us."
Atlas nodded as much as he could and resumed looking down between the two snow-white legs on either side of himself. Every muscle in those thighs rippled as Blueblood shifted himself slightly, spreading his hind legs further apart.
"Hold!"
Taking as much of a breath as he could, Atlas watched as the muscles in the stallion's legs went taut again but this time was followed by the same kind of quick thrust as earlier. Continuing to suck and stroke the cock with his tongue, it throbbed and shifted forward another inch, pressing against the back of his mouth. There it stopped but the Prince continued his thrusts, each time tapping his member against Atlas' tonsils.
"Ngh! Gah... Wait... Wait..."
Atlas watched in silent regret as the Prince started to stand back, pulling his cock out. Had he done something wrong? He'd only been told to hold his breath, it wasn't his fault he couldn't fit it all down there...
"I'm afraid we're going about this the wrong way, my boy. I'm going to need to turn about and... yes, this will be much better for both of us."
Sparing a moment's thought to how the Prince was shaking so strongly, Atlas nodded and lay still as the stallion slowly turned himself about, above.
"Now then, could you shuffle down a tad?"
Atlas did as he was bade, eyes wide and full of the swaying balls and cock above him.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to cause trouble. Gimme a second I'll figure out what-"
"Nonsense!" The mirthful tone caught him off guard as did the wide smile the Prince wore as he looked down between his legs. "A simple oversight on my part, you were performing admirably. Just keep it up and we'll both come out of this."
Licking his lips, the colt nodded and lay his head back against the sheets. He splayed his legs out and took in the sight above him: the tip of Blueblood's cock was now leaking precum at a rate that left him with his mouth open and constantly swallowing.
"Alright, just as before, when I give the word hold your breath."
Blueblood thrust forward lightly but cursed quietly under his breath, missing his mark. Of course, Atlas thought, he'd had to use his hooves to angle the Prince down again. Fair was fair, no need to put all the work on him.
Taking another thrust, the stallion let out a long, low moan as his cock slid back into the colt's eagerly awaiting mouth. Atlas was just glad to have his throat filled with the taste both of the Prince's musk and his secretions. This was a lot better than the wine he'd been offered earlier.
"Hmhm! I see somepony's ready for action again."
The words were punctuated by the sensation of Blueblood's hot breath over the colt's member. Each time he breathed out, Atlas struggled not to moan. Just thinking about the Prince's tongue swirling over his penis made his head swim.
"Hold!"
Quicker to action this time, Atlas took a deep breath and slid his forelegs around the Prince's stomach. Instead of prodding against the back of his throat, as the intruding cock had previously, it now inched its way down.
"Oh moon and sun... I-I'm going to have to take you on, Atlas! I need a colt like--mmph--like you!"
Atlas, for his own part, was too taken up with how his world had turned to one of pleasure. The sensation of the Prince's cock throbbing in the depths of his throat, that hot breath that inched ever closer to his own, the hot taste of the fluids that were pouring into hist stomach... it was almost too much and left the colt thrusting the air in front of Blueblood's face futilely.
"Yes, my sweet little servant, your prince requires more of you!"
If he had breath to make a sound with, Atlas would've been left a whimpering mess as the Prince descended on his cock with lips and tongue in full effect. Bobbing up and down, releasing him, slathering his thighs in saliva and ducking down to the puckered little hole under his tail; Atlas was only dimly aware of how his lungs began to burn.
As if anticipating his need Blueblood pulled back, enough to let the colt take another few breaths before thrusting forward with more strength than before.
"Mm... Mmph! Ah! Atlas... I-I'm going to have to start a rhythm, just... just follow it as best you can and I assure you it will be more than worth its weight in gold!"
The long black member slid easily into the colt's throat this time, now that he knew what to expect. Atlas hooves travelled the length of Blueblood's hind legs to his hock before reaching over to rub his balls. That was where he'd felt his own need and if it helped his Prince release all that mounting tension faster he would do whatever it took.
Blueblood released the colt's cock and buried his face into the sheets, groaning and grunting with abandon. His slow, easy movements into and out of the colt sped up and became haphazard, the muscles in his thighs flexing with each exertion.
Atlas hooves gripped the shaking legs and pulled on them, lust overcoming all sense. His Prince had spared nothing in pleasuring him, he would offer no less.
"Atlas hold fast, I-"
Blueblood's words were lost in a heaved groan as his legs buckled and his cock was buried in the colt's throat. With one final throb, orgasm overcame the stallion and he emptied himself into Atlas. The colt drank all he could, eyes bulging at the volume offered to him; his own seemed like a few drops in comparison to this.
Grunting, Blueblood hauled himself to one side, pulling his cock from Atlas' mouth with a loud, wet 'plop' as more semen continued to spill forth over the colt's face.
In time, his orgasm subsided and Atlas regained his breath and composure. He looked up and saw a smile on his Prince's face and while fatigued, stood on shaky legs and moved up to embrace him. Blueblood's foreleg quickly fell over his shoulders and drew him into a tight embrace as the Prince lapped the remaining cum from his face.
"My... My word, Atlas, however did a colt like you find himself working here? Mmm," he moaned, nuzzling into Atlas' neck as his eyes fell shut, "I shall see to it that my household hires you as my personal aide. A colt like you would do well at my side."
His voice trailed off quietly, after Atlas had fallen asleep against Blueblood's chest. Smiling, the Prince lay his head over his partner's and fell into the blissful slumber of the utterly satisfied.