Imbalanced: After Dark

Entering the drunk mare's apartment, I can't help noticing the thick scent in the air. It's the heavy smell of stale sweat and socks mixed with bagged sandwiches, something more associated with an apartment of a pony used to being alone rather than the gorgeous Nightguard mare I picked up at the Lucky Horseshoe.

I could go on about why I did or more likely had to do that but for now it's much better to just focus on her slowly swinging her red tail braided into one very thin strand. I've known her only for over a week and yet I'm absolutely sure that the patches of wet fur on her inner thighs are from her thinking about our incoming evening.

I know very little about her except that she's a hoof-to-hoof combat teacher in the Canterlot castle and princess Luna's personal bodyguard. She's also the ex-marefriend of my current best friend.

Once again, I could bother with answering why she's in this position but it would be much better to just let the eyes wander from the dripping wet slit, promising to easily accomodate me just minutes later and messing up her thighs more and more, upwards to the raised ring of black skin begging me to stick my tongue inside and watch the black batpony shiver in anticipation.

She notices my stare and gives me a chance to appreciate her bounty closer by taking a step back and swishing her tail, making it wrap around my neck. She's smaller than me, most ponies are smaller than griffons, but right now she's got me on a leash and I'm willing to obey every word her sweet voice might impart on me.

My heavy breathing is the only sound audible in the apartment and I can feel her moist pussy twitch as the tail wrapped around me forces me closer and my breath brushes it. The scent of alcohol, sweat and something sharp reminding me of spices used home in the deserts of the Griffon Empire is strong enough to make me choke on my saliva. While the deserts are dry though, her privates are filled with enough slick fluid to soothe a parched throat. My body acts on its own according to some primal instinct and accepts the invitation. Opening my beak, my pointy tongue laps at a little sticky string clinging to her pussy lips.

The taste makes me open my eyes wide. The tongue tells me it's slightly bitter but here, inside my mouth, it intoxicates the brain and turns sweeter than honey. I moan slightly as her tail unwraps from my neck, drowning me in the desperate need to taste more. A little giggle is all I'm left with as the scent my body now craves like an addict begging for his favourite drug gets further and further away from my face. Breaking away from her perfect form, I realize that with the chuckle still ringing in my ears I'm also left with pressure focused on one point of my lower body, correction - two points, two spheres.

Being a bisexual allows me to admire my own erection but the glistening bead of precum brings back the recent memory of the mare's wetness, the pressure in me builds up and then my eyes follow the shiny string slowly descending from the tip of my cock to the carpet.

I was worried that with my size she might not be able to take me but now all I want is to ram myself inside her fit body as far as I can and let those muscles built by Nightguard training massage me inside.

I should focus on why I'm here and look for the journal but the batpony makes it impossible. There will be enough time for it later anyway. Now I can still admire the way her black coat, glued to her by melting snow, reflects the apartment light and how her muscles dance under her skin as she walks towards the bedroom, seemingly not paying me any attention but swaying her hips in a way making me forget to breathe.

During my short stay in Canterlot I've enjoyed the sight of pony plots every day, especially during Royal Guard training and while I love the ones that are round, full, and jiggle softly whenever their owner takes a step this one follows the same sleek style as the rest of her body and yes, it might not give in too much to my claws squeezing it, but I'm sure it will be tighter than a vice when I get to taste it for myself.

She doesn't tease me any longer and I'm finally aware of myself again. It wouldn't do to keep the lady waiting so I pull my jacket off, something necessary to keep the frost outside from getting too obnoxious, and examine the packet of condoms I had purchased previously when getting ready for the evening. My mistake becomes apparent when the rubber fails to fit me as they are made for ponies, not griffons.

Leaving the packet lying on the floor, I enter the bedroom, apology written on my face. Fortunately, my host doesn't care as she's lying on the bed already, legs spread apart. Seeing the black lips slightly parted, exposing the pink flower and the little heart-shaped button above it, is enough to make me go with the flow. After all, who knows whether batponies and griffons are even compatible. Kneading the muscles on her belly, I flick one of the little nipples on the way down and snicker as she twitches her leg in response.

The haze brought on by her spicy, yet sweet, smell comes again but I can keep my head this time and focus on slipping my tongue into every fold, every crease and even pecking the black lips from time to time, every harsh touch of the beak causing a sharp intake of air followed by a soft moan of the pain subsiding under a slow lick. One of my hands traces the muscles on my chest and goes lower to the shiny pink flesh of my griffonhood dripping a constant stream which creates a small and sticky puddle under me.

The tingle running through my taint tells me I should stop unless I want to splatter my energy all over the carpet right here and now. It's almost too difficult, almost but with all my self-control I trace a circle around the tip, relishing in the touch of the hard talon. Licking the pre from the claw, I smile at the heavy yet familiar and pleasant taste. My experience with many a male griffon tells me that the pre is much sweeter than the actual result and, I grin to myself in victory, tastier than the pony feast dripping hot fluid all over my beak.

Not inching away for a second, I leave a sticky trail around the tight pucker right under her pussy with my claw. Her breathing becomes ragged for a second as she bucks her hips against it, making the sharp talon spread her flesh a little. Not today, my little bat. With a long lick starting at the base of her tail, going upwards and trailing a circle of saliva around her anus, biting the pussy lips one last time just to hear her soft sqeak and know I own her here and now, I make sure the mare is gushing from her lower lips. Looking at her face, I see a tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth and a small puddle of drool underneath it.

I would say she's ready.

I'm not sure what she's used to so I take entering her slowly, at least to the point where the tip of my cock feels the velvety tingle of flesh parting around it on all sides. I can hold until about halfway through, having to fight my way through the tight tunnel, but then the increasing width of griffon privates prevails even over the stream of lubrication allowing me to go on and the pressure increases considerably.

She screams, bucking her hind legs wildly, and the movement makes my entire lower body melt into her heat. I won't last long this way but I don't care anymore. With her hind hooves wrapped around my behind and pushing me deeper into her I accept the invitation and spear her. I might not be longer than a pony but the base of my cock is wider and with one final push I bottom out inside her.

I think she doesn't even know I'm there anymore. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, she's panting and twitching, squeezing my flesh over and over. Slowly, I pull out and lie down on her, pressing myself against her belly and pushing her deep into the mattress. Her front legs lock around my back and her mouth presses against my beak. Confused for a moment, she lets her red eyes with slip pupils focus on mine. I answer by parting her lips with my opening beak and sliding the sharp tongue around hers. Pony tongues are flat and wide while mine is pointy and long, allowing me to taste the cocktails we drank not even half an hour ago from her saliva mixing with mine. Sugar, alcohol, and a slight touch of fruit are my guides around her mouth and she's answering my attempts with her front legs sending lightning through my body by going over the bruised spots left by Guard training.

Our sweat mixing and dripping on the bed, I'm so tightly locked in her embrace that can only move my hips and fill her body again. This time I'm too far to stop and I ram inside her, grinding my balls against her taint. I pull out and roughly slam her again, relishing in the gasps escaping her mouth that every movement brings. Picking up the pace, it doesn't take her long to find a rhytm and thrust against me to once again get her mind to blank out while her pussy is spread as wide as it can around the base of my cock.

Every part of my griffonhood being crushed inside her, I can't hold on anymore and cum while pulling out, leaving a white trail on her black coat. She slowly spreads her legs and wings and licks my face. Her quick breathing rustling my feathers, she smiles and pulls me back against her chest. Basking in the afterglow, I completely ignore my limp lower flesh pressed against her pussy and being glued to her coat by the white stream leaving her insides.

It doesn't take long and the night air becomes uncomfortable on our wet forms. At least on mine because my pony host is snoring softly, being warmed by my body covering her entirely. Kissing her softly, I pull a blanket over her and stand up, careful not to wake her up.

Now to find the damn journal.