Great Balls of Fire

by Quantax

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Comedy
Length: 4894

Another old, old fic I've dusted up and put up here in place of new stuff. Rainbow Dash goes to visit Spitfire's apartment and finds her Polish cousin there instead... not a problem at least! Oneshot Spitdash Clopfic (R63 Spitfire)

Rainbow Dash got an invite to visit Spitfire's apartment in Cloudsdale but is curious to see if she can still take up on that offer to chill with her idol after a few days have passed - only to find that Spitfire's cousin from Krakolt is staying instead. But a bit of chill time with Fireball is just enough to get her to know that she can still have just as good a time with a boy-fire as she can with the original…

(Old, old, (as in, Pre-S3) clopfic, based on the joke that Spitfire's VO was male in the Polish dub of MLP. Spitfire/Rainbow Dash, M/F. Consensual)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-11 17:30:04 UTC

Great Balls of Fire (One-Shot)

“OK. It’s no big deal, Dash. It’s just Spitfire’s place. Just Spitfire. Another mare… another Wonderbolt… the Wonderbolt captain…”

The quiet afternoon at the Cirrus Heights Apartment complex was shattered by a fangirl squeal of epic proportions, shuddering many ponies rudely awake and sending more scrambling looking for the source of the voice. They successfully tracked the exclamation to an eagerly hopping up and down blue mare with a rainbow-coloured mane in the middle courtyard.

Quickly bored, the residents returned to their homes, letting Rainbow Dash prance about on the spot. Spitfire had invited her back to her apartment weeks ago, but what with weather duties and helping out with her friends, Dash hadn’t found time in ages to take the gorgeous yellow mare up on her offer… only now had she had a day free to power up to Cloudsdale and head to the apartment.

The fangirl in Dash had broken free and was basically controlling her impatient, short motions. Her wings were springing up and down randomly, tail flickering as she squealed lightly in delight. Ever since she was a little filly she’d been enthralled by the Wonderbolts, even before the current line-up had taken shape, but it didn’t hurt with Spitfire’s inherent attractiveness… and the fact that she liked Dash.

The young mare’s heart did a little flip in her chest at the memory of the night she’d encountered the Wonderbolt captain when out on a private late-night flight. She’d been out taking in the night air when she began to spot a familiar pair of trails in the air in the distance – in contrast to her rainbow spectrum she left behind, this was a pillar of crackling flame and a swirling stormcloud.

Dash’s face had lit up and she shot towards the two Pegasi, the multicoloured band flowing behind her as she sought to keep up with Soarin’ and Spitfire. The two Pegasi were bereft of their flight-suits and goggles, taking a streak through the night air. Soarin’ had blinked in confusion as the rainbow-maned filly had joined their procession, but Spitfire waved her over with a big white grin.

Sure, so Spitfire was a bit touchy-feely as they slowed down afterwards, but Dash didn’t care about that. The thought that a Wonderbolt couldn’t keep their hooves off her was intoxicating, and she licked her lips slowly.  She remembered the conversation the pair of them had as Soarin’ trotted away for a moment or two.

“So Dash… listen. I know we didn’t get to hang out at the Gala, and I’ve been all wrapped up with PR manure for so long. Listen, why don’t I make it up to you? I’m gonna be staying in my private apartment next week in Cloudsdale… you should come drop in. Just casual… friendly. You know,”  Spitfire had said, her cheeky grin and flicker in her peach-coloured eyes indicating everything that Dash needed to know about this meeting.

Spitfire had said to meet her the next week, and it was another ten days since that particular period of time had ended, but Dash was fairly sure it was worth a go at least. Her wings carried her up the great open space in the middle of the apartments that in a Unicorn or Earth Pony city would be occupied by an elevator. Not that Pegasi needed it though. Floor 6, Room 3. Rainbow Dash’s heart was pounding as she approached the nondescript door.

She reached up a hoof to knock and paused for a moment. Maybe Spitfire wouldn’t want to be bothered. Maybe she was out! Maybe she’d gone back to the Wonderbolts’ mansion outside Manehatten and she would be left knocking at an empty door!

Dash steeled herself, and banged on the door loudly with her hoof, deciding nothing ventured was nothing gained. She pressed her ear to the door, trying to see if she could detect signs of life from inside. To her delight, she heard a low cursing and the scattering of boxes. Somepony was home at least!

The door swung open, and suddenly Dash was filled with glee… and then a massive dollop of confusion. Her eyes went wide and she stood right there on the doorstep, staring at the yellow Pegasus who’d just answered the door.

“Can I help you?” the stallion asked, a fire-orange eye lazily looking over the young mare rooted to the spot in front of his door. Dash’s mind was whirring but the clutch on the gears was disengaged. It was Spitfire… but a guy! His mane was just the same as her idol’s, even slightly messily brushed to get rid of the gel in it. His wings were powerful and firm… she could see the taut muscle all over the flier’s body, disregarding the obvious size differences between him and Spitfire.

She noticed the little beard of orange fur reaching from his cheeks to his chin, giving him the look of having just a little goatee, and not caring a great deal about the opinion of other ponies. She felt a little stab of heat into her belly.

“Uh… I’m looking for… Spitfire?” she asked hesitantly. The yellow stallion smiled warmly, and his teeth were as perfectly white as his counterpart’s.

“Spitfire is not here… not now at least. I can ask her to come over though,” he replied in his heavily accented voice. Dash had never heard a pony sound like that before. “She is letting me stay in her little apartment when I am here,” he said with a smile. “She is a very kind cousin.”

“Cousin?” Rainbow Dash asked, eyes wide. The resemblance made more sense now, though she would have pegged the stallion to be an older brother. Perhaps their parents had been twins instead. The male nodded and offered a hoof.

“Fireball, Piękny,” he said with a smile. Dash blinked a little at the unfamiliar language, but smiled, assuming it was just a term of greeting. She smiled and patted a hoof to her chest.

“Name’s Rainbow Dash! Spitfire told me a few weeks ago I could come visit her here… I thought she might still be around,” she said, peering round Fireball’s large form as if Spitfire would be hiding in the apartment. Fireball laughed, and shook his head.

“Sorry, no. She is not here. But I can get her here for you tomorrow?” he offered, a smile on his lips. Dash frowned a little – she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary to meet her fantasy mare, but at the same time having Spitfire here for sure would be a true treat… and a whole day together.

“Sure! That would be great!” she said, smiling right back at Fireball, catching the look in his disarmingly charming eyes. “Heh… so… should I leave you now?” she asked, curiosity making her want to at least have a look around inside Spitfire’s apartment.

“Tak,” acknowledged Fireball, shifting out of the way to let Dash in. “It is messy inside. Spitfire and I are very dirty,” he said with a laugh. Rainbow Dash flushed as she trotted past the big male, feeling the warmth of his breath tickle her neck as she passed and entered the abode of her favourite mare in the world.

In a way, it was more welcome to see this than any sort of gilded trophy room would have been. Spitfire’s home was covered in sports team posters, scarves of polo and cloudball teams, and even one in Wonderbolts colours.

Her couch was cracked and faded leather with a good few slices taped over to hide the marks, and pizza boxes were piled high on one arm of the sofa. Dash’s face brightened – this really was a living in place rather than some artificially kept museum of Spitfire’s life. It reminded her of her own place.

“Nice place… Spitfire lives here usually?” she asked, trotting in eagerly and glancing at the various magazines thrown about the coffee table and floor. With a slight flush, she realised a lot of them were Playcolts.

“No. She likes to stay in her big fashionable manor most times. When she wants to stay quiet, she moves here,” Fireball replied, trotting in after Dash as he closed the door. “But when I come, she gives me a second key. I stay when in Cloudsdale,” he explained. Dash caught a sight of a great white-and-red duffel bag marked with a symbol of an eagle on a shield and nodded slowly, suddenly her knowledge of cloudball teams picking up as she realised where Fireball was from.

“So…” she began, searching for conversation. Fireball seemed not too bothered about the sudden silence, trotting to the couch and flopping up onto it, opening a magazine where he’d been reading it before. “How are… you two related?” she asked, immediately cursing herself for a stupid question. Fireball seemed unperturbed.

“My mother and her father, twins. My mother moved to Krakolt long time ago, fight with family. I meet Spitfire when younger, see her in magazines,” he said, gesturing to the sporting magazines scattered across the tables. Dash imagined that must have been an awkward moment for the bigger cousin.

“Oh, that’s cool,” she said, not believing it herself. “So are you a flier as well? Like a Wonderbolt?” Fireball laughed, and shook his head as he matched Rainbow Dash’s eyes.

“No. I am too big for Wonderbolts. They need small girly colts and mares,” he said, sticking his hoof down his throat in imitation. Dash couldn’t help but giggle at that. She’d hardly call Soarin’ anything like ‘girly’, but she got the image. “I am polo player. Kracolt Crashers. You know them?” he asked. Dash frowned for a while – racking her minds. She followed the racing, not the ball sports mostly, and when she did it was Cloudball. But then a triggered memory clicked.

“Oh hey! I do! Wait, were you in that match where the Manehatten Monsters crushed you 12-5?” she asked. Fireball’s eyes flicked up and he glared at Dash even as she grinned her favourite cheeky grin she always wore whenever she’d wound up Applejack enough.

“Bah! We played badly that day. And your referee! He was cheater! Bad cheater! I was never in foul zone! Skurwysyn!” he growled, stamping a hoof on the leather. His eyes narrowed.

“You must be careful what you say, Miss Rainbow Dash. This is Spitfire’s home, but I live here now. And I can kick you out if I do not like you,” he shot back. The rainbow-maned filly laughed out loud, trotting towards the couch as well, careful to avoid the shaking stack of pizzas.

“Pssh. Don’t say you like me already,” she said, sticking out her tongue as she fished out a magazine of her own. She’d reached for a Playcolt at first, but thought slightly differently with Fireball so close. Part of her wondered though if she hadn’t interrupted him in the middle of some of his own private time. He had the sweat and musk of a powerful male about him… similar to when she visited Applejack and her big brother came back from the fields, brimming with energy and exertion. Icky as she found most colts and stallions, she had to admit that smell was an intoxicating one.

“You are a pretty filly,” Fireball said airily. Dash looked round at him with wide eyes as he continued. “The mares back home? Always scowling, always angry. Never smiling. You have a nice smile,” he said. Dash felt a blush come to her cheeks. Nopony had said that about her before! Sure, they’d said she had a gorgeous body, or a nice mane, or that she was generally awesome, but nopony had commented on her smile before.

“Heh… uh, thanks. You smell good,” Dash said, trying to return the compliment before she realised what had left her mouth. She clapped her hooves to her mouth and her cheeks went bright red as she struggled for an apology, or some way to smooth over the whole damned business. Pretend it never happened.

“Here,” Fireball said, turning to her with a long clear bottle in his muzzle. “It is good for forgetting things,” he said. Dash flushed harder. She’d never had hard spirits of any sort  - Gilda had loved a beer or two back at Junior Flight School, but the stuff that Vinyl Scratch was into was a new world for her. And nor was Fireball tossing her a glass. She was to drink it nice and fresh from the bottle.

“You aren’t drinking?” she asked, working the lid of the bottle to open it slowly. Fireball grinned as he looked to her.

“I do not want to forget your smile. Unless you want to forget things together.” Rainbow Dash flushed, and took a deep breath of the flavour of the stallion so close to her. Then she reached for the neck of the bottle, sealed her lips about it and tossed the hot liquid back down her throat in one smooth gulp.

“Wh… what about her?” Dash asked, giggling softly. Fireball looked up from where he was working her wings, peering through the dim light at the mare that Rainbow Dash was sloppily pointing to in the open copy of Playcolt. He turned up his nose.

“Nie. She is too thin. Mares should have muscle or fat,” he said, punctuating it with a playful slap to her firm rump. Rainbow Dash squealed, a noise interrupted by a hiccup that made her begin to rock back and forth, giggling madly.

She and Fireball had been working through his spirits for nearly an hour now, and more and more inhibitions had been thrown off like uncomfortable clothes as they continued into the world of happy light heads and hangovers the next morning. The pair of them were sprawled out on Spitfire’s bed in her room now, Dash on her belly on the bed with the yellow stallion clambered atop her back. His hooves were making slow circles of her wings and shoulders, massaging her with his powerful forelegs.

Dash had never before really understood the benefits of a massage – it always seemed like a truly frou-frou-y thing to do at a spa, for ponies like Rarity, Twilight or Fluttershy. But the hooves of the Kracolt resident were like a smooth balm to her back and she was eagerly melting to his touch.

She’d found she was right in her opinions as to what she’d interrupted Fireball in with the knock to his door – when they went through to the bedroom, the sheets were littered with Playcolt magazines. Dash had only giggled rather than feeling repulsed.. what else could she have expected from a single stallion? And it wasn’t like Fireball was like Dumb-Bell or Hoops or any of the other jerky jocks of Cloudsdale. In fact, the best way to describe his personality was like a more grounded Soarin’s.

“And her?” she asked, sliding away to let her masseuse get an eyeful of the gorgeous Pegasus mare sprawled out, hindlegs opened to show the treasures of her marehood. Dash felt a squeeze of hooves on her shoulders, and breath pulsed out long and low over her neck.

“Mmmm… yes…” he breathed, pressing a teasing kiss to her neck, and tugging at her mane playfully. “And you, Dash? You like her?” he asked. Rainbow’s cheeks flared red to match her wine-coloured eyes as she squirmed in place.

“Mmaybe…” she said, looking down at the mare dressed in a skimpy version of the Royal Guards’ armour. She breathed out low as she felt a pair of strong hooves grip her hips, massaging those cutie marks.

“You seem like a filly who likes being tied up and disciplined…” Fireball said with a nip to her ear. “You need to be told you’re wrong… you’re a bad mare.” Dash figeted nervously as her wings began to rise unintentionally from her sides. Looking back, she saw that Fireball was already fully erect wing-wise.

“Mmmf… I like being the best though,” she pouted right back, even as she closed her eyes at the sensations Spitfire’s cousin was giving her. The horny stallion wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer though.

“Does not mean you do not like somepony trying to put you in your place…” he retorted, giving her neck a teasing bite as his hoof slid over her curvy rump to squeeze in between her legs. “Like this,” he whispered, beginning to roll his hoof against the hot wet slit between Dash’s legs. The rainbow-maned mare’s wings began to rise more from her back as Fireball felt his hoof coated with the pegasus’ nectar.

“Yes… like that…” Dash whined softly. She swept the magazines off the bed and stretched out long and low, her rump grinding up into Fireball’s powerful chest and hooves. She was expecting a little more sensation there, but what she didn’t expect was to find herself flipped right over onto her back, wings pressing into Spitfire’s bed hard.

“No… like this…” growled Fireball, lifting his moist hoof covered in the young mare’s juices. With deliberate slowness he began to lick it clean, the honey vanishing into his maw hungrily until the extremity was completely clean. Then without warning, he plunged his head in between Dash’s thighs.

“Eeeee!” squealed Rainbow Dash as she began to feel that hot, hungry stallion tongue diving hard into her hot wet muff. Her legs spread wide, giving the male access to her most intimate of temples as she blushed, squirmed and fought with herself inside her head. She was actively letting a stallion lick her out – in her imagination it had been Spitfire doing it this evening, but she was strangely at peace with her idol’s cousin doing it After all, his beard felt really good when he suckled on her clit, brushing across her moist, pink…

Rainbow Dash shivered in the bed, feeling those god-like lips seal about that little nub of flesh he’d dug out from the hood, and slowly beginning to buck her hips into his muzzle, getting gradually wetter and wetter.  His hooves squeezed her cutie marks and she huffed lightly, resting her short legs on his shoulders and biting her hoof as she tried not to scream out. Stallion or mare, she had a gorgeous, handsome pony between her legs, and giving her a damn good licking.

“Mmmf… oh Celestia… this is what I came here for…” she panted stupidly, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth as Fireball drove his tongue into her slit as deep as it would go, dragging it up to savour every last drop of Dash’s flavour. Then came her favourite part – he swirled his tongue under the hood of her clit, poking that little sensitive nub that made her squeal out loud, and flicked his tongue back and out, swallowing everything he’d taken there. It was already beginning to take its’ toll on the inexperienced filly.

“You wanted Spitfire to give you lickings?” Fireball asked with a low growl, pressing a hot kiss to Dash’s dripping sex. The mare squirmed, digging her hooves into the bedsheets and twisting them madly. “My cousin has quite the fans, no?”

“Stop… teasing me,” whined Dash, looking down hungrily as clear liquid oozed from her cunny, no Fireball tongue to be there and stop it from pouring on to Spitfire’s sheets. Dash was about to suddenly protest and ask about whether or not the Wonderbolt captain would want her bed soaked like this with the juices of her number one fanfilly… and then she threw it out of her mind. Her hoof came down and began to stroke her sex, eking out even more liquid to trickle down her thighs and onto the bed.

“So you can tease yourself?” Fireball responded, licking his lips as his yellow eyelids dropped a little. “I don’t think so…” Dash had been staring into his eyes the whole time, hoof squeezed between her toned legs and not breaking eye contact with the stallion for a second. The yellow, bearded Pegasus. The wonderful, sweet, handsome, dominant stud of a male…

She offered no resistance as Fireball eased her hoof away from her netherlips, and motioned for her to part her legs again. She did so with just a little whine of mock-displeasure at being manipulated so perfectly, so easily by this hunk of a stallion. His lips pressed to hers, and she let him in, flushing as she could taste a flavour that could only be herself on his tongue. Her head was tipped back a little as the big male loomed over her – Dash was the smallest of her group of friends, Spitfire was bigger than all of them and Fireball was bigger still. It was almost as if she vanished underneath the belly of her lover.

The world seemed to darken, and Dash closed her eyes, focusing on sound, touch and smell. She took in a long, deep draught of Fireball’s musk, and it sent her senses roiling like angry snakes. Her hips bucked upwards involuntarily, and found her crotch bumping against something thick, warm, hard and fleshy.

She’d never taken a stallion before. Gilda had a soft spot for strap-ons, and Vinyl Scratch knew how to make toys vibrate until Dash was weak at the knees and couldn’t walk, but she’d always considered the pride of a stallion… disgusting. Pink or black, big or small, they were horrible. Sticky, smelly… she wanted nothing to do with them. Even Gilda’s toy looked weird, despite how good it felt. But right now, she was of another opinion.

She couldn’t see that shaft of Fireball’s, but she knew that she wanted it. She wanted to be stuffed full of handsome, hunky Pegasus stud and scream his name out. That stiff, hard rod began to probe at her messy pussy and she moaned against Fireball’s lips.

“Nngh… put it in…” she begged, wrapping her hind legs about Fireball’s hips. He licked her neck.

“Really?” he asked. Rainbow Dash let out an impatient whine.

“Yes, really! Stick it in me, fill me up! Do whatever it is you wanna do to me… I need you, Fireball!” she cried, even as her cheeks flushed at how she was begging for the stallion’s shaft. Fortunately, Spitfire’s cousin at least had the gentlecolt in him enough not to deny the mare beneath him. His lips found her neck as his shaft pushed forward, parting her hot, tight lips and with a squeeze, popping that flared head into Rainbow Dash.

“AA—aaaah!” Rainbow cried, squeezing her hindlegs about Fireball tightly. Oh, this was a different feeling to Gilda’s toys. Those were hard plastic, cold and unforgiving. Fireball was… warm. Wet. A little soft even… there was give. Dash gave an experimental squeeze with her inner muscles and was rewarded with a low growl from the stallion atop her. That was intoxicating.

She had to relax though… Fireball wasn’t going to slip any more into her when she was giving him pleasure. It grew into a rhythm, Dash letting the yellow stallion slip an inch or two into her before clamping down, biting her lip to try and stop her own moaning as she pumped and coaxed that maleness inside her.

“You… have… a good cunt…” panted Fireball unintelligibly, inbetween bursts of what she assumed were expletives in his home tongue. Though she was sweating, her face burning bright red, she was loving this. This was a sensation Spitfire could never have given her, and she was treasuring it. Then with a hungry maw, Fireball threw his lips to hers, his beard tickling her chin just a little as he forced his tongue inside her, still with the vaguest hint of her pussy on his lips as she returned the kiss, feeling a strong shove of his hips to pound himself deep as he could go.

Dash squealed into that kiss, thrashing about on the bed and clinging to her lover – if she hadn’t had him to hold onto she’d be thumping her hooves on the bed like a little schoolfilly throwing a tantrum. And in a sense she was. She didn’t want that kiss to end, that shaft to leave her… it was a hot, sticky, filthy feeling to have the male so deep inside her, his hefty balls slapping noisily against her sticky rump, and she was loving it. She made a mental note to apologise to Applejack for mocking her and her love of stallions. The coherent thought lost a moment later as Fireball drew his hips back and pounded into Dash.

The winner of the Junior Fliers Championship, the Element of Loyalty and a mare who’d flown right up and kicked a fully grown dragon in the face could do nothing against one stallion atop her, crying out and moaning as she was humped into the bed in strong, powerful motions. Fireball was not loud during sex – a few curse words or other mutterings in his own tongue, but Rainbow Dash more than made up for it. Every pound inside her when the bearded male didn’t have her lips sealed with his, she let loose a loud cry of delight, or a squeal or squeak or coo as the shaft drew back and forth, the medial ring brushing across that most sensitive of spots.

The noise in the apartment was that of slick, squishing slaps as those fertile orbs smacked into muscled rump, and the creak of bedsprings as they put Spitfire’s bed through its’ paces. Rainbow Dash’s tail and backside were a mess – a mixture of saliva, her own juices and Fireball’s pre were coating the fur there, making it glisten in the dim light offered by the lamp overhead.

Dash felt like she would pass out. This just felt so good… she could close her eyes and still be blown away by the sensations. The room stank of herself… and of Fireball, and she sucked it in like it was gaseous ambrosia. In that moment, she began to imagine herself with her lips locked about the male’s stallionhood, sucking hard and begging for his treat as she plunged a hoof between her legs. It was that image, that degradation in her mind that sent her over the edge, letting out a shrill, high scream as she clenched down hard!

Fireball cried out as he felt the vice-grip of Rainbow Dash’s pussy about his shaft, squeezing him tighter than any mare he’d known. Those were real muscles in her belly and backside, and they were almost threatening to choke the blood and cum from his dick. He decided to give the dirty filly’s body just what he needed, pounding his hips forward one last time in a lewd slap, pushing right through that innermost chamber and pressing the head of his flare into Rainbow Dash’s womb.

With a whinny of pleasure, the Pegasus began to unload, his bloated sac twitching and tingling as it pumped his essence out, down the length of his maleness and right into Rainbow Dash’s foal-garden, seeding the mare as she moaned helplessly, mind gone completely blank. Stars were spinning before Fireball’s eyes, but Dash had already passed out, eyes glazed over and half lidded, breath coming in short, erratic pants.

The stallion held himself inside for a minute more, gasping as he felt a pressure within him released he hadn’t known was there. Being blocked during private time had felt like a chore at first, but blissful relief after an hour of teasing and playing with this angel was… unbelievable. As the last dribble of cum oozed back from Dash’s pussy and dribbled down the valley of her buttocks, Fireball’s strength deserted him and he caught himself just before crashing down on the smaller mare. He fell onto his side, hooves wrapped about the smaller mare with his chest heaving.

“Kocham cię, Rainbow Dash,” he gasped, letting sleep take him.

It was night-time when Rainbow Dash awoke again. She groaned, feeling a dull ache in her loins and her buttocks. She tried to move her hindlegs and felt a stickiness in her fur as she did so. She groaned softly as she slid backwards, letting a softened stallionhood slip from her sex and a dribble of seed pour onto the sheets.

It all came back to her in a big ‘whoosh’ of memory as that familiar scent filled the air. She looked over to the sleeping stallion, eyeing him up as if he were real. A male version of Spitfire. A stallion that she’d spent an hour drinking and reading Playcolt with before he mounted her up and fucked her silly. She blushed. The girls would never believe this.

“Hey,” she whispered, nosing at Fireball’s snout. The big yellow stallion grunted a little, and twitched. She butted him again lightly, and his orange eyes opened slightly. He seemed a little woozy – she guessed he’d been drinking before she got there.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes not quite focused on her form. Rainbow Dash said nothing, but pressed her lips to his, cheeks lit up.

“Thank you,” she whispered, snuggling into his embrace as he wrapped his hooves about her.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” Fireball replied, kissing her forehead. “Anything for an angel.”