The Amorous Adventures of Donut Joe

The Amorous Adventures of Donut Joe

Chapter 2

Mister Coffee

I woke up the usual time the next morning. There was a warm weight pressed against my side, and I looked down to see Bluebell’s sleep-tousled mane. Gently, so to not disturb her, I eased out from under the covers and headed for the shower.

When water was just the temperature I liked, I closed my eyes and stuck my head under the spray. A sudden cold draft hit my backside, and I dropped the shampoo bottle in surprise.

“‘S just me. Sorry I scared you.”

I shook the water off my face and looked into her beguiling eyes.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, it’s big enough for two,” I said. I picked up the shampoo bottle with my telekinesis and squirted some in my mane and started lathering up. I could feel her brushing up against me as she rinsed herself, then we traded places so I could wash the soap out of my mane.

I felt a gentle pressure on my back -- she was soaping my back, running a washcloth across my broad withers. I’d treated myself to spa trips before, but this was something different -- Bluebell spent her time, taking pleasure in her light touch across my body. She showed no hesitation as she cleaned under my tail and across my balls, or when she reached underneath and gently soaped around my sheath.

It would have been unkind to not return the favor, so after I had rinsed all the soap off, I took the rag from her. I could have just used my telekinesis, but it seemed so much more personal to clean her by hoof, and after the evening we’d shared, our bodies held no mysteries to each other. It seemed as if I’d known her forever. It seemed impossible to believe she’d responded to a personal ad in Pegasluts, and for a moment I wondered if I was the first, or if there’s been other unicorns before me? Did she like it when they were soaping her up?

I hesitated as the washcloth’s inevitable course took it around her rump. She helpfully lifted her tail for me, and I could pause no longer. With a slightly trembling hoof, I slid it forward, gently soaping her backside. What was the right amount of pressure? How long should I clean? It didn’t seem right to try and arouse her; this was not the time for that. I finally settled for a quick pass, hoping it was enough.

⭐        ⭐        ⭐

Once we were both clean, I helped her dry off and invited her to stay while I made breakfast. As plain as the rest of my apartment is, the kitchen would be the envy of many chefs. When I’d remodeled the donut shop, I’d taken all the old equipment to my apartment, rather than sell it. And while my special talent might have been donuts, I’d worked enough years in a greasy spoon to be able to make a pretty mean breakfast.

As I cooked, I watched her across the small island. She was stretched out on the couch, preening her wings. It was one of the sexiest things I’d seen -- and after yesterday, that was really saying something. I was so distracted watching her, that I almost burned the scrambled eggs.

She had her back to me, and her muzzle buried in her left wing. I could see her jaw working -- almost like she was chewing gum -- as she bent her wing at what seemed like a particularly uncomfortable angle. I’d never seen a pegasus preen before, and there was something so intimate about it while being so familiar -- it made our night together more personal, almost. It was what I imagined it would be like if we’d been married, and for one fleeting second, I considered asking her. But that would have been silly; we’d not known each other for a full day even.

We ate breakfast mostly in silence -- there wasn’t really a need to say anything. But once she had finished her plate, she looked at me hopefully. “Do you think you could come to my apartment next week?”

I nodded eagerly. Of course I could.

⭐        ⭐        ⭐

I thought about her all day at work. Sweets noticed, I’m sure. There were a couple of times that she had to repeat herself, and when I wasn’t busy cooking, I just stood at the counter with an idiotic grin on my face. I wondered where Bluebell was right now, and what she was doing. Whenever the bell tinkled, I thought maybe she was walking in.

She didn’t, of course. The day went by in a blur, and before too long, Sweets had gone home and I was locking the door behind her.

When I got back to my apartment, I looked over the room with fresh eyes. I could almost see her there, sitting at the table as we ate breakfast together, or over on the couch preening her wings. I ate a bowl of leftovers for dinner, not tasting what it was at all. My mind was replaying the night before.

I brushed my teeth mechanically, before going to my bedroom. The bedclothes were still in stained disarray, and I was about to put clean sheets on the bed when a whiff of sex caught my nose. Suddenly, it seemed comforting to be curled in those same sheets. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers over me, her scent assailing my nose. A small smile curled across my lips as I noticed small tears in the pillowcase from Bluebell’s teeth. I lay on my back and -- for the first time in months -- didn’t reach for my Playmare. I was content to just let the memories play in my mind.

⭐        ⭐        ⭐

The next morning, I stopped by the post office. I was thinking of going to the counter and telling them that I didn’t need the box any more, but it was early and the office was closed.

Since I was there, I opened my box. I couldn’t believe my luck. There was a scented envelope in there. Overcome with curiosity, I tore it open, and a photo fell to the floor. I quickly snatched it up and tucked it into my apron pocket, then unfolded the letter and began to read.

The neat cursive script informed me that the writer was a thirty-year old doctor at the Canterlot hospital. I have large wings, she wrote, which I love having sprayed with cum. My face turned bright red and I shoved the letter into my apron too, looking around guiltily.

I practically galloped to the cafe, resisting the temptation to look at the photograph under the soft glow of a street light. If she’d written that she liked her wings sprayed with cum, what kind of picture might she have included with that note?

As soon as I was alone in my office, I pulled the letter out again, followed by the photograph. My eyes popped out: the snapshot showed a smiling coral-coated pegasus with delicate pink eyes, a tangerine mane around her like a halo, and a flower tucked behind an ear.

Lying on her back on a white cloud, she had a lovely smile on her face and her wings were spread wide, as if inviting somepony to cream them. Her pose left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and I found myself wondering who’d taken the photograph. No doubt there was a copy of it in a film lab. There was no way I could pass up meeting her -- until just now, I’d never had an urge to jizz all over a pegasus’ wings.

Her name was Tiger Lily, and her apartment was close to the hospital. I thought about sending her a letter back, but if she was horny enough to send that letter, the least I could do was leave her a personal response at the desk.

I must have had a dozen false starts before I finally got it right -- I hoped. I didn’t want to sound desperate, but didn’t want to be too dismissive, either. Most vitally, I didn’t want Sweets to walk into the office when I was staring at Tiger Lily’s photo.

⭐        ⭐        ⭐

My luck was really in -- it was a Tuesday and Sweets was closing up the shop, so I got off work just before dinner time. I took a cab to the hospital, composing a letter for Tiger Lily as I went.

I gave the letter to the nurse at the desk, who promised to get it to Tiger Lily. I sat in the waiting room for a half hour before deciding that it would probably be best if I went, when a warm hoof touched my back. I turned and there she was. I felt my heart stop in my chest for a moment; her scent was overpowering

“Hey, Joe,” she said. Her voice was kind of throaty, almost the exact opposite of Bluebell’s, but it fit her perfectly. “I’m done for the night; do you want to go get some dinner?”

“Yes?” I squeaked. She chuckled and slapped me on the withers. “That’s the spirit. Come on, I know the perfect place.” She led me across the street to a small Bitalian Cafe that I’d never known about before. It’s funny how you can live your whole life in a city, and still not know all its secrets.

She got us a small booth by the back of the restaurant. I looked around at the room -- it really wasn’t my kind of place. It looked like the owner had just painted some flags on the wall and put down checkered tablecloths and silly little candles jammed into wine bottle, deciding that was what it took to make a restaurant ‘Bitalian.” Faded pictures of Roaman ruins decorated the walls, given the whole place a sad, faded look.

On the other hoof, I had something more interesting right in front of my eyes. Tiger Lily was looking around the restaurant, probably searching for a server, and I took the opportunity to drink her appearance in. Her eyes were a lovely shade of pink, sparkling with a sense of bemusement at life. I could see lines in her face and a few grey hairs through her coat, and resolved to not ask her age.

When the waiter finally arrived, Tiger Lily ordered for both of us: a salad as an appetizer, and a big bowl of noodles as a main course. She let me choose a drink, and seemed disappointed that I didn’t want a glass of wine.

I was thinking about making small talk -- although I couldn’t even think of how to begin -- when she grinned at me. “I bet my picture got you all hot, huh?”

My face reddened, and my eyes darted around the restaurant, making sure that nopony was within listening distance. “I . . . it was a surprise. I hadn’t expected something so . . . direct.”

She leaned towards me, fanning her wings slightly. I couldn’t help but stare as her perfume -- the same scent as she’d used on the letter -- drifted towards me.

“Were you thinking about these all day, hmm? About what you’d do with them?” She had a small smirk on her face; she could tell she was getting to me. “Is it getting you all hot, now?”

Dumbly, I nodded. I shifted around on my seat, trying to ensure that my dick would stay out of sight under the table. The last thing I needed was to be thrown out of the restaurant with a raging hard-on.

“That’s so cute,” she declared, brushing a wingtip across my cheek. “I love it when a stallion thinks about me.” She moved back as the waiter set our drinks on the table. I pushed my glass aside, while she took a drink of her red wine before leaning close. “I bet you can’t wait to put your cock in me,” she whispered.

I nodded. I could feel a hind hoof delicately brushing up against my leg, working its way upwards teasingly. It was getting harder and harder to control the urge to just jump over the table and take her right there. My hips reached for the touch of her hip, while she just sat there with an amused look on her face.

“Is this something you do often, Joe?” She took another sip of her wine, her hoof moving on the inside of my leg all the while. “Put adverts in magazines? Meet up with strangers?”

“Nuh-no,” I stammered. “Just one other time, what about you?”

Her eyes glinted in the garish light of the restaurant. “There’s nothing I love more than indulging some stallion’s fantasies. Why, just last week, I had a stallion who -- “

Before she could finish her thought, the waiter set a salad on the table, along with two small plates and a bowl of creamy dressing.

She served us both, her movements swift and sure. She finally took her hoof away from my leg, and focused her attention on the salad. With perverse pleasure, she slowly dribbled the dressing over the lettuce, licking her lips as the vicious dressing dribbled off the serving spoon and onto her plate.

“Where was I?” she asked between bites. “Oh, yes. the stallion. He liked being spanked.” She stirred her salad around absently. “Would you like me to tell you what I did with him?”

“If you want to,” I said.

“He wanted to lie down on my bed and grind himself against my sheets.” She took a bite of salad. “While I spanked him.” Bite. “He was a very bad stallion, and I had to use a crop.” Bite. “He was crying when he came,” she told me. “What about you? Has your little advert gotten you any other pegasi?”

I nodded, my salad largely forgotten.

⭐        ⭐        ⭐

By the time the meal was over, it was a miracle I could walk. I’d managed to get myself under control by dessert, but it was a near thing. I’d seen her squirming around on her seat as I gave her the details of my night with Bluebell, and could smell her arousal even over the Germane chocolate cake. It took all of my willpower to corral my erection long enough to walk to her apartment.

She lived in a new five-story building, and we shared a kiss on each landing. Half a minute later we were outside her door and she was unlocking it. Unlike my older brownstone, her apartment was sleek and modern. Crystal lamps bathed the room in a soft glow.

She hung her coat up on a small tree near the front door. I reached to untie my apron, but she held a hoof up to stop me. “I’ll get it,” she whispered. I stood stock-still as her lips gently untied the strap and it fell loose. She slowly pulled it loose with her hooves, deliberately brushing her wings against me.

“Let me make you a drink,” she said. “Is a martini all right?”

I’d never had a martini, but it sounded good. I watched her mixing it, her motions very deliberate. She’d shown the same precision when she ate -- all her motions smooth and efficient.

I sipped my drink slowly, letting the flavor soak into my mouth. She slammed hers, refilled her cup and drank another, before wiping her lips off with the back of a hoof. “Gonna go get freshened up,” she said. “Meet me in the bedroom when you’re done with your drink.”

I resisted the urge to just guzzle the rest of my martini. I didn’t want to appear desperate. I willed myself to take small sips, giving her enough time to do whatever it is that mares do before sex.

When I heard water running in the bathroom, followed by a door opening, I knew it was time. My ears perked at the sound of squeaking bedsprings, and I felt a familiar warmth in my belly.

Her bedroom was tastefully decorated, with rich hardwood furniture. Her bed was round, like an oversized cushion. The sheets looked like they were an expensive satin, but what really caught my eye was Tiger Lily -- she was wearing tall silk socks that completely covered her legs, and almost distracted me from the fact that she was in very nearly the same pose as in the picture she’d sent. My brain could only focus on one thing, and that was the coffee-brown vulva that was winking at me. I almost came right then.

“Let’s fuck,” she growled, but she needn’t have bothered. In a flash, I was on top of her, jamming my dick into her. She grabbed me with her forehooves and yanked my face down against hers, mushing our lips together. Our tongues were twisting together before I was all the way in her.

She was looser than Bluebell, but for all that, she was more skilled at using her body. Where Bluebell had been an enthusiastic youngster, Tiger Lily had years of experience with stallions. She quickly found a perfect rhythm, and it felt like she was riding me, even though I was on top. Her wings wrapped around my barrel and her hind legs pulled in my hips, pinning me in position. I didn’t care, she was working her pussy with a will.

She held that position for a minute, her body still while her talented pussy squeezed my aching member. Tiger Lily broke the kiss and began gently nipping my neck. I could feel her teeth against me in a predatory embrace, and the thought of her tearing my flesh only made me harder, as I tried to move in her tight grip.

“Oh, goddess, I’m close,” I muttered.

She didn’t seem disappointed that I’d hardly lasted at all this first time around. “On the wings,” she breathed, releasing me. Against my wishes, I pulled out, my well-lubricated dick easily sliding loose. For a moment, I froze, kneeling over her with my wet cock just above her dripping pussy. How easy it would have been to put it back inside her -- yet, a part of me really wanted to spray all over her wings, and that part won out. I moved up into position and reached my hooves down, feeling slightly embarrassed about jerking off in front of a mare.

And then her stocking forelegs were touching me, too, sliding up and down my shaft, and I was coming, my seed shooting over those beautiful wings, dribbling and trailing through the delicate vanes of her coral-colored feathers. Her timing was perfect, shifting my aim across her body when I was between spurts. When I’d finally finished coming, her hooves guided the end of my meat onto her wings, rubbing it through the pools of jizz, working it into the feathers.

“Eat me,” she ordered, shoving me backwards. Eagerly, I slid down the bed, my sensitive head on the sheets an agonizing pleasure. I buried my face in her pussy, eagerly lapping up the tangy wetness from her fleshy folds. She held her hooves against my mane, eagerly working her cunt against my questing tongue.

It had meaty brown outer lips and was tender, pink, and juicy inside. Its stink was considerably stronger than Bluebells had been. But, strong and fishy and funky as it was, I loved the smell and the flavor. The teasing smell at the restaurant had nothing on being right in it, and I could already feel my dick hardening again.

I moved my lips around, tracing the edge of her hole and finding her clit. It was hugely engorged, almost the size of an pea. I brushed my upper lip and nose against it, and she froze for a second, before grinding herself against my nose. My tongue was buried in her vagina, painting her inner walls with saliva.

I felt her tense up her legs and wrinkled my nose, brushing up against her rock-hard clit. She spasmed under me, painting my face with waves of girlcum. I eagerly lapped it up, relishing in the exotic taste. I followed the trail down towards the bed, only hesitating as my tongue touched the knot of her anus. Conflicting thoughts played through my mind, before I finally decided to throw caution to the wind and continue on. I heard a sharp hiss of indrawn breath as my tongue touched strange flesh, and then I was committed.

I traced my tongue around her bung-hole, even daring to dart inwards, lapping up all her spilled lube. I could feel my dick twitching again as she orgasmed a second time, squirting across my muzzle and I willed myself to not come on her sheets, not when there was so much tantalizing flesh so near.

She released her hold on my head, finally letting me come up for air. “I needed that,” she mumbled.

Tiger Lily wasn’t content to rest for even a moment. She pushed me back and rolled over. I thought she wanted to be fucked from behind, but she turned around, tilting her wings for balance on the uncertain surface of the bed. “Sit down,” she ordered.

I shifted around, trying to find a good position. My cock was sticking stiffly out in front of me, aching for contact withsomething. She reached out a hoof, and for a moment I thought she was going to slide her stocking legs over it again, but instead, she hooked a hindleg and pulled it out straight.

Before I could ask her what she was doing, she climbed over my outstretched leg, positioning her pussy right on top of my coronet, her warm flesh engulfing me. I could feel the heat radiating out of her.

“What --”

“Ssh,” she whispered, putting a stockinged hoof to my mouth. She braced herself on my withers, and began rocking back and forth, grinding her cunt against my leg, before reaching down with her wings and gently brushing her feathers against my dick. Slowly -- ever so slowly -- she brushed them up and down, moving with a light teasing touch, tracing around and across my head. I just looked down dumbly. I could see a spreading pool of dampness on my leg, while her feathers brushed up and down my mottled shaft.

Her eyes never left my face as she gave me a wing-job, occasionally reaching underneath to tease my balls or tickle my perineum. I wasn’t sure that I could actually come from her delicate touch, but then she slid a stocking hoof up my shaft while her wingtip was brushing across my head, and I could hold no more. I spasmed, shooting my load up across her brisket and neck.

I felt her squeezing against my hoof, and then she was coming, too, coating me with her pungent lube. Her wings were sliding against her fur, spreading my cum around like it was some new kind of shampoo.

Still frigging herself against my hoof, she leaned down and began licking the jizz off her chest, consuming it in greedy laps. I just watched, mouth agape, as she got what she could reach with her tongue before moving on to her wings, siphoning my semen into her eager mouth.

She came again, before she finally slid off my leg. I worked my hoof back and forth, trying to get the stiffness out of the joint. My fur was soaked and matted with her juices.

Tiger Lily looked down at my hoof and grinned at me. “You like that, Joe? You like how wet you make me?”

I nodded dumbly.

“You wanna fuck me again?”

“I . . . Um, yeah.”

She looked at me with a mischievous smirk on her face. “It’s your turn to choose, Joe.” She leaned down and began licking my lube-coated leg, circling her tongue around my fur, tickling at the same time as she cleaned me. “How do you want to do it?”

The only chance I had at control was if I mounted her from behind, I decided. Anything else, and I wouldn’t last any more than a couple of minutes.

She obligingly stretched herself out on the bed, belly flat against the rumpled sheets. As I moved into position, she teasingly flicked her tail back and forth. Not willing to be baulked, I caught it and held it out of the way, before brushing my head up against her. It took me a moment to get into position, and she wasn’t helping. I could practically see the smirk on her face as my dick jabbed her asshole before sliding down her lips.

With a grunt of frustration, I re-positioned, sliding into her easily. I moved my whole body forward as I entered her, until I was straddling her back. I began making slow, easy thrusts, a pace I could have kept up for a good long time, now that the edge had been taken off, so to speak.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she wasn’t content to lay there. “Bite my mane,” she whispered. When I didn’t respond, she turned her head and glared at me. “Bite my mane, Joe.”

Without a word, I leaned forward and grabbed a hank of hair -- right above her withers. She let out a gasp, and then I thought I heard her say “Hang on,” but it was really quiet, and I was concentration on nice, even strokes.

All the unicorns I’d been with had been content to let me do all the work, and even Bluebell had let me set the pace when I was on top. Tiger Lily was not; she began thrusting her hips up to meet me, twisting her head under my grasp.

She arched her hips back, pounding her ass against my crotch. I could smell her nectar dripping off my cock as she ground herself against me.

“That’s it, Joe,” she told me. “Ride me hard.”

“Nggh,” was the most vocal response I could make. Her rump was slapping against me at a crazy tempo, her nether lips greedily tugging at my cock, trying to pull it deeper and deeper. The bed was making a carnal rhythm as it squeaked back and forth on the floor. Gamely, I did my best to match tempo with her, but it was a lost cause.

She must have been worried she was going to break me, because after a full minute of her bucking under me, she slowed to a more sane tempo, one I was more able to appreciate. I was already soaked in sweat, and could hardly breathe with a mouthful of mane.

“You can come inside me,” she offered, not breaking her tempo at all. She half-turned her head and brushed her lips with a wingtip. “Or would you rather do it on my wings again?”

“Inside,” I muttered.

“Yes,” she whispered, slowing the mad gyrations of her hips nearly to a standstill. I closed my eyes and breathed in the mingled scents of our sex as I hilted myself in her.

I held out for a few more minutes, and she seemed content now to let me take the lead. I could feel movement under her belly, and realized that she’d pushed a hoof down to brush against her marehood, and it was the thought of her hoofing herself while I was pounding her from behind that finally pushed me over the edge. My legs locked up when I was all the way inside, and I yanked my head back hard, forgetting that I still had a mouthful of her mane.

Tiger Lily didn’t seem perturbed by the fact that I was pulling her head back, though; in fact, she seemed to be enjoying it. I could feel her vagina clenching against my dick as she milked me dry.

I collapsed on top of her, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Do you want to come back next week?” she whispered.

‘Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

“If you ask nice next week, I might let you fuck me in the ass. What do you think about that, Joe?” She wiggled her hips, tugging and squeezing my deflating cock. “Would you like that?”

“I’ve never done it before,” I admitted.

She grinned, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “You’ll love it.” She gently nibbled my neck. “It feels so nice.”