Flying High, Getting Hard
You stared down into your drink, the clear liquid vibrating to the loud, repetitive dance beat that permeated the air of the dark, dirty nightclub you'd found yourself in. "Come to Equestria", they'd said, "The only thing more plentiful than the beautiful women are the opportunities", they'd said. Served you right for listening to a badly made poster encouraging you to emigrate - you'd had nothing to stay behind for, but at the rate this was going, you came for nothing too.
To make it all the worse, you thought as you took a sip of your water, these horses didn't even have any alcohol. You'd tried a salt lick the first day you'd been here - it wasn't the same. It wasn't anywhere near the same. So you'd come to Cloudsdale, the great Pegasus sky city, armed with nothing but a 3 day cloudwalking enchantment, a tourist guide, and hope for the future.
A day and a half later, you were spending your one last bit on one last drink before you turned your back on the place and went elsewhere. You laughed bitterly into the bottom of the glass - opportunities, what a joke. Nobody would hire you because, guess what, in a society heavily based around doing what a vague "special talent" dictated, not having a tattoo on your ass meant you didn't even get an interview, never mind a job. Not to mention the 3+ years experience just for an entry-level cloud cleaning position. Horseapples, the lot of it.
Your glass chinked down against the desk a little harder than you'd meant it to, the bitterness inside of you making itself known. It was empty, and yet you were still thirsty - how simple water could be so expensive in a city literally built out of clouds eluded you.
"Hey", the barmare called, tapping her hoof on the counter in front of you impatiently.
You muttered an apology and assured her you were just about to leave, and that you wouldn't be taking up her stool much longer.
"What? Naw, I was just tellin' ya that this one's on them" she insisted, sliding another glass along the desk and pointing over to a table on the far side of the room. The table was hidden away in the corner, surrounded on two sides by walls and on another by a wooden divider, giving it plenty of privacy from the rest of the bar. As the barmare pointed at it, you saw a golden maned head poke out from above it, looking over at you and waving with her yellow hoof.
Huh, one of these horses had bought you a drink. Maybe you didn't have to leave just yet - your carriage back down to the ground below wasn't for another day anyway, so there was no rush. You muttered your thanks to the helpful staff and grabbed the glass, taking a quick swig of the cold, refreshing fluid before wiping your mouth and starting to walk over to the other side of the room.
As you neared your target, you started to hear two distinct voices, only slightly muffled by the secluded area. One of them was high pitched, almost a squeak some of the time, but clearly prone to breaking mid-sentence like a filly just going through puberty, though the voice sounded older than that. Not much older, it clearly belonged to a young adult, but certainly no child. The other voice oozed confidence, a little lower pitched than the first but still oozing femininity. It sounded a little older than the other, but not too much. You strained your ears against the loud backdrop of the rest of the club and tried to piece together what they were saying.
"So, think he's coming over?" the more excitable, higher pitched of the two asked.
"Of course he is, Dash. You saw what he looked like, how could he resist?" the other replied, naming the first as "Dash", something that sounded more like a stage name than anything else, but you could never be sure around here. Horse naming schemes still eluded you, they seemed to follow neither rhyme nor reason, but were always strangely appropriate to the horse's character.
"I guess. Hey, do you think it's true what they say about human hands?"
"Hopefully we'll find out!"
Their conversation grew silent as you saw the yellow one poke her head around the side of the divider to see whether you were coming, presumably silencing her friend 'Dash' when she saw you.
You greeted them as you walked into their view, confidence boosted by overhearing their interest and spirits helped by the almost-full glass in your hand.
"Hey! Why don't you sit down, I'm Spitfire" the yellow Pegasus suggested, waving her hoof in the direction of the other side of the table where a comfortable looking chair rested emptily. The other mare at the table just stared, inspecting your body from head to toe. You did likewise, rolling your eyeballs over her mane, which was separated into half a dozen or so different streaks of colour as if it were a rainbow. It was striking, and contrasted well with her light blue coat, easily drawing your attentions towards her. You felt your throat begin to close up as your palms grew sweaty, stuttering slightly as you agreed to sit down, only slightly worried that your legs were about to give way.
Though you had your difficulty taking your attentions away from the rainbow maned one, her partner was no less attractive - just less strikingly so. Her coat and mane were a similar vibrant shade of golden yellow, and her mouth was twisted into a lopsided and confident grin - this wasn't the first time she'd done this, and she knew what she was doing.
Suddenly, 'Dash' spoke up, "Yo, I'm Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in Equestria! What about you?"
She leant back in her chair and grinned at you - had she said 'fastest flier in Equestria'? Surely she didn't mean she was THAT Rainbow Dash? Though you'd only been here a few days, you'd heard whispers and rumours about the flying team here, the Wondershots-
"Wonderbolts" both mares corrected, speaking in unison, before Rainbow giggled a little at it, "but yeah, that's me! Best there is!"
"Dash." Spitfire warned, nudging her friend with the tip of a hoof, "we don't want to scare him. Hey, why don't you just take a drink and tell us about yourself?"
That seemed like a good idea, so you complied, taking a long swig from your glass and telling them all about why you were here, and why you wouldn't be this time tomorrow. Much to your surprise, the two mares grinned at each other as you told them about your woes, and how you really weren't sure what else you could do. As you talked about how your wallet was bare and you were still no closer to finding a job, you didn't think their smiles could get any wider.
"Sounds like we might be able to help you out, then!" Spitfire suggested, leaning forward onto the table and speaking more quietly lest she be overheard, "I've heard a lot about your kind, and not many get in so you're pretty rare. I've been looking for somepon- somebody with your talents for years now. I dunno if you've noticed, but none of us have hands, and I spend most of the day in a tight suit, so... see where I'm going?"
You didn't - from what you'd seen of unicorns, they seemed more than capable of handling that sort of thing.
Dash decided to chime in, "Uh, yeah, but they're so boring. It just gets done, what's the point if you can't enjoy it?"
You weren't quite sure what she meant, you admitted.
Spitfire contined, "Well, your duties would mostly be helping some of us in and out of our suits, as well as some... extra activities upon request, though you are of course welcome to turn those down if you want"
"She means we've heard your hands feel really nice" Dash interjected, talking over Spitfire and taking a completely different angle to trying to sell the job to you, "and we want to have a bit of fun before and after shows. If you're gay you should probably just go now."
That was very forward. You'd need time to think about it, you told them, idly drinking the rest of your water while you found yourself lost in thought. While you weren't paying attention, Dash busied herself in sneaking around the table until she was floating in the air behind you.
Jumping forward, she grabbed around your torso with her legs and wrapped her wings over your body, putting her muzzle next to your ear. "Ready for the interview yet?" she whispered, her lips centimetres away from you and her hot breath obvious against your skin. Spitfire looked on with a sort of dejected amusement, laughing at the antics of her friend but clearly worried you were about to be scared off.
Luckily for her, you weren't completely insane - the prospect of mixing both the opportunity AND the beautiful women in one thing too good to miss out on, and you agreed.
"Awesome," Spitfire nodded, standing up and jumping out of her chair as she started to leave and motioned for you to follow. As you got up and started to walk behind her, you noticed Dash stay quite stubbornly attached to you. After jokingly asking if she was going to stay like that the entire way, she replied "Yep" and rested her chin against your shoulder, holding tight as you followed Spitfire through the dark streets of night time Cloudsdale. You didn't complain, she was warm and light enough to be comfortable, and you didn't want to seem like you were going to be difficult about the whole process.
On the short journey back to what you presume will be whatever hotel the two were staying in, you and Spitfire chatted about life in the Wonderbolts. You could feel Dash tense up as she started talking about the endless days of training, and the lack of sleep if it was a heavy week, and all sorts of unpleasantries Dash probably hadn't even considered. Luckily for her, you soon made it, Spitfire opening the door with a hoof and prompting you to go inside, sliding the lock shut behind you.
Now that you were inside, Dash jumped off your back and landed on the bed, lying on her side and propping herself up with a hoof. If you didn't know better, you'd think she was trying to seduce you, not interview you. Spitfire sat next to her, looking far more restrained, but still with a lopsided grin and a look in her eyes.
"So hey, let's begin! I guess we should ask some questions. Got any experience as a masseuse?" Spitfire asked, grinning at you as if to tell you that the questions were basically meaningless anyway.
You replied honestly, telling her that you could spell "masseuse". The two ponies snorted in response, nodding and moving on to the next question - "If you could be any animal, what would it be?"
Before you could respond, Dash interjected, "Nah, how about if you could be IN any animal, who would it be?" she asked, wiggling her tail slightly behind her. You wondered if behaviour like this was normal for Pegasi, or just the carefree fun-loving ones like the pair in front of you.
Again, you tried to respond honestly, telling them quite plainly that only two options came to mind, but you couldn't decide between.
"Hey, Spitfire, can't we just fake the rest of the answers? None of these questions even mean anything!" Dash protested, growing bored with the whole process. "We all know why he's here anyway, can we just cut the act and start cutting cheques later?"
Spitfire sighed - she'd been enjoying the lighthearted mood, but Dash had ruined that. "Fine, Dash. Hey, you, how about you give us a demo of those fingers?"
Getting into the spirit of things, you gave your fingers a quick wiggle in front of them, feeling a little more confident as both mares eyes glazed over slightly - you weren't sure what they'd heard about fingers, but you hoped to prove them right. Motioning for Spitfire to turn over, you moved towards her and knelt at the end of the bed, giving you plenty of freedom to move around her. Dash sat up and started to watch intently as you brought your hands to the top of Spitfire's back, and began to rub.
Pressing against her coat, you rubbed in circles, feeling her flesh and muscles beneath you. Pressing more deeply, you felt the tension slowly begin to lift as your strong, thin fingers pressed into her the way no hoof, and very few unicorns, could ever replicate. Spitfire's outwardly professional attitude quickly dropped away as she gasped into the duvet, closing her eyes as the real interview started. Feeling her flesh soften and tenderise as the pressures of constant training and flight began to drop away, you listened careful to her breaths, trying to keep within that small band where each breath was slow and deep, not bored or pained.
"So what'cha doing?" Dash asked, poking her head in and staring at your fingers from barely an inch away. "Can I have a turn yet? Hey, Spitfire, is it fun? Does it feel nice?"
Both you and Spitfire had only one reaction - "Shut up, Dash", hers low and sultry, yours irritated and sharp. To soften the blow, you added a promise that you'd get to her later, and returned your attentions to Spitfire while Dash sulked at edge of the bed.
"This is lovely," Spitfire admitted, keeping her eyes closed as you slowly pushed against her, "but my wings are what really need it." She finished the sentence by slowly unfolding her set of large, golden-yellow wings and letting them hover there in the air - they were beautiful. You knew from seeing other Pegasi just how agile those things could be, but you'd never seen a pair outstretched so close, nor seen them so still. From this close, each feather was clearly visible, and you could spot the different layers in her wing, presumably for feathers in charge of different things.
Starting from the very base of one wing, you started to squeeze and rub, far more gently than you had before to ensure you didn't hurt the fragile looking instrument. Spitfire didn't complain as you went further, slowly moving along her outstretched wing. The moment you hit the main body of the wing, not the muscles connecting it to her torso, her demeanour immediately changed as she let out a sharp gasp. You immediately stopped, terrified you'd damaged something.
"Aaah- No, don't stop!" she pleaded quietly, her words barely more than a whisper. You continued, starting where you left off at the edge of her wing, and slowly began to massage the feathers, pressing against each and slowly teasing any misaligned ones back into the position. Your work was made more difficult by the way that each light touch of your hands sent a shiver of pleasure through her wing, jerking it around as her muscles spasmed ever so slightly. Your probing grip grew stronger as you became more confident you wouldn't hurt her, and each successive rub made her breathe a little more heavily than the last.
As you reached the halfway point of her wing, and started to press against the smaller feathers that made up the bulk of it, Spitfire's breaths grew more laboured and she started to let out the quietest of moans as your hands took her wings to greater heights than she was used to. As you continued, you felt her wings grow softer as hundreds of tiny pains and problems started to melt away under your fingertips, and Spitfire started to surrender to sensation, slowly sucking air and letting out long, quiet moans every few seconds as your fingers hit yet another sore spot.
"Hey Spitfire, you okay?" Dash asked, poking the absent-minded mare with a hooftip as she stared at her closed eyes in wonder. "Man, that must feel great, is it my turn yet?"
The suggestion that you might stop was enough to rouse Spitfire from her induced slumber, but her calmed mind and pleasured body gave her ideas other than telling Dash to shut up and go back to her corner. Moving quickly as so to surprise Dash, Spitfire grabbed hold of her face and pulled her down onto the bed, turning her own head to meet Dash's in a long slow kiss. For all Dash's bravado, she melted in an instant, obediently lying down on the bed as she returned the affection, closing her eyes in return as Spitfire let her take charge, concentrating on the feelings you were sending sparking through her body with each beat of your hands, the slow and steady rhythm of your fingertips driving her crazy.
Her moans found a new home inside Dash's mouth as she stopped holding herself back, no longer caring about professionalism or making sure she could remember how well you performed and giving in to you, becoming putty in your hands as you brought her to new heights of pleasure. Before long, Dash impatiently broke this kiss, "This is taking too long, how can I help?"
Spitfire's body quivered beneath you as you explained to Dash the basics of what you were doing, watching her attempt to emulate it as well as she could. Her dexterous lips danced across Spitfire's other wing, enthusiastically preening and quickly moving across, barely spending a moment on each area. You scolded her, telling her to slow down, Spitfire didn't look like she could take much more of that.
Dash looked up, licking her lips to clear up some of the excess saliva, and said "Uh, yeah? That's the point" with a devious grin. You sighed and got back to work - Dash might be realigning feathers, but she wasn't getting any of the tough spots or strains. She was making Spitfire feel great, though, you realised as her wings juddered around under you, each of Dash's fast licks or light kisses sending an arc of lightning pleasure through the showmare's body.
You sped up slightly yourself, trying to time yourself so both you and Dash would finish at the same time, and more hurriedly stroked her and squeezed her. Under such punishment, Spitfire collapsed entirely and bit down onto the duvet beneath her, unsuccessfully attempting to muffle the loud moans as pleasure rocked through her body. Her back began to arch subconsciously as she felt a tingling sensation spread out from the base of each wing, growing across her body and dulling all of her senses as she was overtaken.
Her body rocked as her mouth flew open and her wings stretched as straight as they'd go as she groaned uncontrollably, filling the room with her voice and lying there satisfied, quietly panting. Her eyes remained closed as she breathed deeply, and her wings weakly retracted back to her sides, leaving her spread across the bed. It was only then you noticed the smell - Spitfire had really, REALLY liked that. The duvet around her crotch was probably ruined.
"My turn" Dash grinned, turning to you and pressing a hoof against your chest, "so get out of those clothes before I rip them off!" You complied immediately, hearing Spitfire's performance earlier had gotten you entirely too worked up, and if Dash was offering a release of that, you were going to take it. Throwing your clothes into a messy pile at the side of the room, you turned back and wiggled your hands, asking if Dash wanted the same treatment.
"Man, way to slow for this pony! Just follow my lead, okay?" she laughed as she flew over to you, hitting you head on and catching you in a deep kiss. You'd never kissed a pony before, but you hadn't expected it to feel this nice. Her tongue was like a beacon of wet heat wrestling with yours, her entire head shifting around a little as she struggled to maintain an exact position in the air and forcibly running her lips over yours. Her eyes stared into yours - hers were a beautiful magenta, alive with passion - and her hooves rested against your shoulders as she held herself mostly in place.
After a few moments, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the moment, putting every shred of concentration she had into her wings and her tongue, moving each in the way that made her feel best. For a pony that bragged about speed, she certainly was taking it slow.
As if she'd heard your thought, Dash chose that moment to burst into action, shifting her forehooves to grab you under the shoulders and pull. With a few beats of her powerful wings, she flung both of you through the air to land on the bed, inches away from Spitfire's still slumbering body. Dash sat on your chest and extended a wing, wiggling it in front of you.
Your eyes glazed over as you imagined all the things a wing that strong and flexible could do, and you finally understood what they said about hands. Dash grinned, seeing that she had you right where she wanted you, and in the palm of her hoof. Dash took a few steps back and knelt down onto the bed, bringing her head down to the same level as the head of your shaft, staring at it. Slowly, she moved closer, as if stalking her prey, slowly approaching it. As she got close enough, you felt her breath push against you, giving you the tiniest hint of what was to come. Dash looked on, fascinated as she saw how merely breathing on it was enough to make it spasm slightly you were that desperate for her attentions.
You didn't want to beg, but after several seconds of her doing nothing but blow on it, your dignity finally lost out to your libido, and you were forced to gasp a pained "Please?" at her. In return, she simply laughed - the increased airflow driving you even wilder as you lay powerless beneath her.
"Oh, fine," she relented, "how about we do this the other way around?" she asked as she unfolded a single wing from her side and wiggled it around once more. Wasting no further time, she leaned to the side and ran the very tip of her wing against your length, slowly raising it upwards as your gasp grew in volume. Merely tickling against you wasn't enough, though, for either of you. Dash quickly moved her wing forward, scraping the silky feathers against the side of your penis as it went and momentarily blanking your mind out with pleasure.
As if that wasn't enough, her next move was to slowly wrap her wing around it, showing off her extraordinary flexibility as she grasped your entire length - it was just like a hand, if a hand could be smooth, with little enough friction that it didn't need any extra lubrication, and was capable of squeezing quite so uniformly. Almost instantly afterwards, Dash began to flap, running her wing up and down you and squeezing rhythmically.
Both of you groaned simultaneously as Dash's motions pleasured you both, your shaft being tickled and treated from every direction at once and her feathers being ruffled and shifted with each rough flap, every misplaced feather like a spark of joy through the impressively sexy pony's body.
Dash grunted heavily as she struggled to hold herself up, screwing up her face as she continued to run herself over you, the sweat dripping from her brow as the required effort grew too great and she collapsed, her wing deforming and returning to its natural position as she landed on your chest. "Ow", she apologised, "I expected it to be easier than that"
You suggested that perhaps you could both do some of the work, and motioned for her to flip over onto the bed and lie on her back. She quickly got the idea, curling her wing back up and holding it in position as she lay there, ready for you to start thrusting inside of it. As you got into position, you saw her face tinged with need and desperation as she waited for your touch once more, the stench of her arousal filling the air around you. Deciding to have a little fun with her first, you stopped, and asked her if she was sure she really wanted it.
"If you don't put that thing inside of me right now, I'm gonna jam this wing down your throat, okay?" she hissed - clearly not one for messing around in the heat of the moment. Deciding not to take any chances, you braced yourself, one hand pushing into the bed, and the other resting on her soft chest as you knelt on the bed next to her, her wing moving as she kept your length aligned for easy access.
Slowly, you began to thrust, penetrating the very edge of her wing. Without having to concentrate on movement, Dash was holding her wing as tightly bound as she could, making every inch inside a glorious achievement. Her face screwed up with pleasure as you slowly continued, moving past the halfway point through sheer force of will, knowing that if you stopped now you might not be able to gather the strength to continue. Still you continued, slowly lubricating your way with the first signs of precum coating the inside of her tight hole.
Finally, you felt her soft feathers against your balls as you got as far in as you could go, and started to retract - the journey outwards made slightly easier as her feathers were now slightly matted, and tickled less as you passed by. Dash countered this by starting to roll her wing from side to side as you moved, pressing each feather against you as the wing turned, still gripping tight. Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head as you continued, and you wondered how she could stand the rough treatment given what such a light touch did to Spitfire, who even now was only barely recovered, lying in silence as she watched.
You felt Dash's chest begin to quiver as your rhythmic thrusting sent shockwaves through her light frame, each slam causing her to twitch and moan. Her head fell to the side and her tongue flopped out as she began to lose control of her body, concentrating everything she had on keeping her wing stable. Her wing began to shake as even that failed, each shudder driving you to even more pleasurable heights as her ecstatic suffering brought you nothing but pleasure.
Dash's groan exploded into the room as she broke, her wing collapsing around you and falling to the bed as her adorable little head was wiped clean of all thought while her body was in the throes of orgasm, her back arching against the bed as she gasped desperately for air. You felt the tingle of your own oncoming orgasm slowly fade as the stimulation ceased, leaving you cold and unsatisfied.
Dash lay there breathing heavily, her eyes glazed over and her tongue still dormant, a small pool of saliva gathering under it as she continued to simply not care how uncontrolled she looked. You tutted - for all her talk, she really didn't last that long.
"Hey" Spitfire whispered from beside you, "think you can find a use for that thing?" she asked, tiredly pointing a hoof at your raging, and quite un-dealt with erection while she shifted her tail away, giving you a full view of her soaking wet slit, the pink, parted, and puffy flesh quite obvious against her golden coat. That was an invitation you couldn't refuse.
Sliding off the bed, you took a moment to regain your balance before grabbing Spitfire by the legs and pulling her towards you, leaving her hindlegs resting over the edge and her rear exactly where you wanted it to be. She was at the perfect height, and neither of you were in the mood for more foreplay, so you got straight to it, aligning your shaft with a single hand and resting the other against her toned and unsurprisingly alluring ass.
From her earlier treatment, and watching Dash get hers, Spitfire was more than just aroused - she was practically dripping, making your entrance trivial and all the more enjoyable for it. Slowly pushing yourself in, you felt Spitfire squeeze against you, her red hot walls contracting and almost sending you over the edge there and then. Slowly, you pushed all the way in, ignoring your body's cries and telling it to hold on as long as it could. Grasping her rear end with both hands, you anchored yourself and began to thrust cyclically, varying only how fast or slow you took each stroke as you begged yourself to just hold on, for she surely couldn't last much longer.
Slowly, so very slowly, her groans began to raise in volume and length as your aching body slowly overwhelmed hers in a battle of endurance as she did everything in her power to make you cum, and you did everything in yours to reciprocate. You thanked the stars that ponies and humans were biologically incompatible, because you weren't sure you were in any fit state to pull out now, fearing that even the simple shock of the cold air would be enough to tip you over the balance. Your shaft burned as the sea of pleasure spread throughout your body, held back only by sheer willpower as Spitfire's resistance slowly fell, her body starting to rock against you as she thrusted back and her wings weakly shuddered at each side of her, signalling her proximity to ecstasy.
As if she'd wanted to surprise you, she suddenly let out an enormous groan as her limbs all shot into action at once, pushing outwards as her vagina contracted powerfully against you, instantly breaking down every pleasure-dam you had and milking you dry, each contraction sending out another river of burning hot semen straight into her exhausted, but willing body. She moaned happily as the feeling of her second orgasm was joined by the spreading heat of your seed inside of her, resting her head against the bed in a happy daze.
Your work done, you felt your body begin to shut down, the effort of holding itself at bay draining all of your reserves. With the last of your strength, you flopped down onto the bed between the two Pegasi, and were asleep before you even hit the duvet.
The following morning, you awoke to a thin slit of light poking through the cheap hotel curtains, and a pair of ponies snuggling close to you at each side. Soon after, you realised that both of them had pulled themselves under your arms, so you could hug them close, and fallen asleep with their heads resting against your chest, both of them happily smiling away and still just a little smelly.
You looked to your side, over Spitfire's gorgeous mane, and saw a note on the bedside table. Reaching over to grab it, and being sure not to disturb the slumbering pony, you snatched it from its resting place and opened it awkwardly with one hand.
"Yo, Spitfire's still out of it, and it's so boring with both of you asleep that I figured I'd write a note. Me and S talked about this before we came (haha, came) so I'm pretty sure you've got the job. Don't forget, there'll always be plenty of overtime round at my trailer ;)
-Rainbow Dash"
Equestria, they'd said. The land of hot mares, and opportunity.
