Author's Note
I never do Anthro. As such, this fic will contain many elements that may send many of you off to Camp Go Squick Yourself. These include 20,000+ Horsewords, Anthro, Futa, Futa on Male, Futa on Female, Male on Female, Excessive Shower Scenes for Exposition Purposes, etc. See the Bonus Guide below for a full list.
Endercrow32: Step Your Game Up, Eh?
Chapter 1
The Spunky Chicken
Fic Contains The Following:
Camp Go Squick Yourself Bonus
Characters Are Of Age To Vote, Drink, And Carouse Bonus
Futaloo, Where Are You? Bonus
Stage 4 Anthro With Jazz Hands Bonus
Pipsqueak's First Cock Bonus
Scootaloo's First Cock Bonus
Sweetie Belle Is Indiscriminate About Who She Boffs Bonus
Breasts That Are Illegal in Australia Bonus
More Pitching and Catching Than The World Series Bonus
Enough Lube For A Slip 'n Slide Bonus
Porn, Porn As Far As The Eye Can See Bonus
Cloud-Shower Bonus
Anal Creampies For Everypony Bonus
Yes, She Has A Safeword Bonus
Pipsqueak frowned as the pins ricocheted, four of them crashing into the others in a blur and the lot hitting the back of the alley. “Right, that produced no results.”
Sweeper shrugged. “What's next?” He dusted his hind hooves on the mat and reached for the damp towel to cool his hands off. Then he flexed his fingers, grimacing slightly. “Hate to say it, but I'm starting to get tired. Even I don't spend my whole life slinging bowling balls. I'm going to be sore tomorrow.”
“Almost done. And will you stop complaining? You'll be fine tomorrow. You always are.” Pipsqueak checked the ticky-box by 'unbalanced ball.'. He'd inherited Princess Twilight's love of the ticky box. “Your skill obviously has some effect on the ball. Out of ten throws with that weighted one, you still managed seven strikes.”
“Should have been eight, but that 7-10 split in frame five stymied me.” He picked up the ball that they had doctored and set it back in its crate. “Imagine if I had to try and make that shot with hooves rather than hands?”
The two of them were testing their Twilight Time theory on just how much a sporting Cutie Mark could influence the outcome of a match. There had to be limitations, otherwise a pony could simply throw strikes all day without a break. Princess Twilight, having some understanding of the limits of cutie marks herself, had encouraged the two colts to be innovative in their experiments. And so they had. At least the alley had been pretty much empty tonight, so they could do their tests without disrupting a lot of ponies. They had manipulated pin position, lane conditions, ball composition, and others, to see if Sweeper's talent could be made to manifest.
“We've just got an External Influences hypothesis left.” Pipsqueak considered nearby distractions that could be useful. If Sweeper's marefriend had been around, it would have been good. But he was used to having her nearby. It wasn't a great distraction if you knew the pony. If they had been outdoors, he would have asked her Pegasus friend Diamond Rose to buzz him a little, but indoors? The bowling alley had a 'No Flying' policy. “Hrm. I might need a moment. Take a break while I think about this.”
Nodding, Sweeper slumped back in his chair and stretched his legs out, whisking his blue and white tail free. “Sure. Go flirt with the old Crusader-mares over there. Maybe you can get Scootaloo to buck another bowling ball over half a dozen lanes while I'm trying to wind up.”
He chuckled at that, but spared a glance towards the three young mares. He'd been watching his old classmates on and off for most of the afternoon, when he wasn't taking notes on Sweeper's throws. He couldn't help it, not when they were as raucous together as they were when they had been fillies.
Sweetie Belle was daintily nudging her ball down the lane, as oblivious as ever to the notion that one could actually wind up and throw. As much as she derided her older sister's way of declaring ordinary sports like bowling 'uncouth', she was every bit a princess as Rarity when it came to competition, the annual Sisterhooves Social notwithstanding.
Applebloom was unwrapping and re-wrapping her wrist, gingerly twisting it back and forth. Pipsqueak was willing to bet on a work injury, rather than a sporting one. Nopony worked like an Apple. She had probably hurt it carrying apple baskets or fixing the barn. As she pressed both palms together and grimaced, she flexed impressively muscled arms, then appeared satisfied and reached for one of the lighter balls.
And then there was Scootaloo, back home after being out on the speed-racing circuit for another season. She was lounging over three seats, hind hooves stacked on top of each other. Whereas her friends had worn pale T-shirts and form-fitting shorts, she was dressed in a sports bra, sweatpants, and a wacky tie-dye, short-sleeved shirt that she'd opened down to her navel. Two orange wings were pushed through slits at the back, but they were currently folded up. When they were out at their full spread, Pipsqueak bet they looked pretty cool. Her fingers were mussing her barely-there purple mane, buzzed down to nearly her skull on the sides. It had been growing back for nearly a month, and the long stripe still there was almost like a soft little mohawk, but she was constantly swirling it and pushing it back. The circumference of her arms was nearly a match for Applebloom's, and the thickness of her thighs was evident even in her sweats. To Pipsqueak, she was bad, butch . . . and beautiful.
Grinning, he patted Sweeper on the knee. “Cheers. That's a good idea. Just start up again when you're ready. And I'll go and see what they think.” Ignoring the look of alarm on his friend's face, Pipsqueak slipped down the stairs to the main level and darted across to where the ladies were high-fiving after Applebloom's spare.
Scootaloo was the first to look over and she did a double-take. “Whoo. Hey there, cutie!” Then her double-take became a triple-take and she stifled a snort. “Whoah, Pipsqueak? Is that you?” She hooted and slapped her leg as she sat up. “I thought you were a mare for a minute there!”
Mortally offended, he glowered back at her. “Hello to you, too.” Mare? It wasn't like he'd bounded up to them in a dress.
“Oh, ignore her,” Applebloom said, undoing and re-wrapping her wrist yet again. “She ain't seen you for a couple years like I have. Besides, you're gettin' too skinny for your own good..”
Pipsqueak looked down at himself. He could see his hooves and his legs without having to inhale and hold his stomach in. Wasn't that the point? “What's that supposed to mean?”
Applebloom got up, since Scootaloo was too busy cackling at his reaction. She smoothed his brown mane away from his face and her palms cradled his cheeks. “Look, it kinda starts here. You got a real slim face. Your cheekbones do this sorta thing . . .” She rubbed her palms down towards his chin. “And you come to a point here, rather than bein' all blunt.”
He nodded, his head still pressed between her hands. “Yes, so what?”
She shook her head, her touch gliding down to grip his shoulders through his shiny, collared shirt, then quickly moving along his sides to slip beneath the hem and caress his waist and hips, as if she were measuring him for a new suit. “Ain't just that. See how my fingers can touch each other? You got the kind of build that's . . . well, opposite of my family. We all bulk up. You're . . .”
“Graceful,” Sweetie Belle suggested. “You move smoothly. And you're slender. What did you do, take up running?”
This was beginning to get embarrassing. Normally he wouldn't mind a mare like Applebloom patting him down like this, but it wasn't as if he'd asked for it. “Could we please stop talking about me for a second?” He glanced over at where he'd left Sweeper, but his friend was stretching and rolling his wrists, not even paying attention. “I just stopped over because I'm on a project and I could use some help.”
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle perked their ears, but Scootaloo yawned and flopped back down. “Bored now,” she declared, then darted a glance at him to see if he'd pursue it. Oh, yes. That was the Scootaloo he remembered. She'd gotten a rise out of him and had been hoping to keep the attention.
“It's your turn,” Applebloom prompted her. “Go an' throw your ball. We'll listen to him. And no cheating!” she called after her friend, who rose and slouched towards the ball rack. “Go on,” she said, turning back to him.
Pipsqueak nodded over at Sweeper. “We're cataloguing the effects of his cutie mark on various influences. And we've reached the part of the experiment where we need somepony to try and distract him. Either of you have some ideas?”
Sweetie Belle grinned and looked over her shoulder. “Scootaloo's a distraction.”
“He thought of that,” Pipsqueak pointed out. “In fact, I think he's expecting it.” It was as known a variable as all the other things they had tried tonight, but still. “We need something a bit more . . . unexpected.”
She pouted and snapped her fingers, her pale pink tail swishing her disapproval of being unable to use her friend. “Phooey.”
Applebloom glanced down at their scoresheet and ticked something off on her fingers. “We got another frame an' ain't neither of you gonna catch me at this rate.” She looked up again as pins crashed and Scootaloo yelped with glee at a surprise strike. “Not even if she follows that up with a turkey.”
As their friend came back gloating, both ex-Crusaders glanced at each other and Pipsqueak could see one of those infamous mental conversations taking place. Scootaloo, meanwhile, got right up against him, invading his personal space, and stalked around him as if she were thinking of buying him. “Dude, do you even work out? You're barely toned, but you look like you got stretched. And with that shirt? Untucked? You're hiding your real shape.”
“Scoots, a word?” Applebloom said warily as Sweetie shrugged and went to take her turn. “And get outta his face. He ain't a prize steer that ain't been eatin'. So he's a little bit on the mare-ish side with those legs. It's cute.”
Oh, now he was cute. Pipsqueak groped for a comeback that would restore his masculinity and pride, but Scootaloo patted his shoulder and stepped back as Applebloom pulled her in for a quick, whispered conversation. From the expression on her face, she didn't like what she was hearing, but she shot a look at him that made his ears flick and heat up at the same time.
Sweetie Belle now pranced back, having managed to hoof all her balls into the gutter once again. But she didn't seem too perturbed. In fact, she was grinning. “I know that look. Applebloom's thought of something.”
“Might say I have,” she allowed. “Remind me: Was Sweeper there the day Diamond Tiara thought it'd be real funny to steal my bra and run it up her family flagpole?”
Scootaloo snorted. “Nah. He was out at a tournament in Manehattan, I think. I remember him talking about the prize money later.”
Applebloom pulled her arms inside her T-shirt, which hung down to her thighs. “Thought not. Might wanna gather up our stuff.” She nodded at Pipsqueak. “You get one shot at this and you're gonna owe us afterwards.” One arm re-emerged from a sleeve, dangling a green bra and she handed it off to Sweetie Belle. “Be right back.”
He blinked as she sidled casually across two lanes to get up close to where Sweeper was just picking up another bowling ball. “Oh, hang on. She's not going to . . .”
As his friend took a breath and sighted down the ball, beginning to take his steps towards the foul line, Applebloom grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up to her chin.
From his end, Pipsqueak could only see her long, bare back and the fuzzy tufts of yellow fur above her tail. But the reaction from Sweeper was a simultaneous bobbling of the ball and a stumbling on his hooves. There was a thump on the lane as the bright blue ball skittered free, but hung just on the rim of the gutter as it spun down the lane.
Applebloom had let her shirt drop by then, but he could see past her, to where his friend was windmilling his arms, staying just on the right side of the foul line. Then there was the sound of pins clattering and everypony looked down the lane to see that the entire right side of the framework had dissolved. Sure, there were still four pins left standing, but for a pony bowler of his calibre? An easy spare.
There was silence as Sweeper staggered backwards, shaking his head. Then Scootaloo snickered. “For science, yeah?” she asked.
Applebloom grinned back, smoothing her top along her tummy. “Yup. Twilight would yell at us, but we've got scientific principle on our side.” She looked at Pipsqueak. “That any help?”
He shrugged, still surprised from her tactics. “Perhaps, but to really determine if it's a factor, we'd have to repeat it at least four more times.”
Sweetie Belle's ears drooped. “I don't think we're going to be able to get away with it even once more.” She nodded down the alley. The owner, Mr. Kingpin was glaring at them.
“Yep,” Sighing, Applebloom reached for her purse and held out her hand for her bra, stuffing it inside. “Toldja. C'mon. We can get out the back way before he gets to us.”
As the three girls scrambled, Scootaloo pointed right at Pipsqueak. “You, sexy mare. You owe us big time. Ice cream later at Sugar Cube Corner.” Then she was vaulting over the vinyl and plastic seats and following her two best friends through the emergency exit.
Sulking at Scootaloo's parting shot, Pipsqueak picked up his list and wrote in 'method used: topless mare' beneath the ticky box for External Influences. Then he ticked it off.
It took a while to convince Mr. Kingpin that Sweeper had not merely been the victim of a prank, but was indeed part of a Princess Twilight-approved social experiment. Even if a pony allowed for the innate chaos caused by certain citizens of Ponyville, Pipsqueak certainly hadn't asked Applebloom to show off her boobs. And, frankly, if there was one thing she had going for her, it was that most of Ponyville had already seen them in the aftermath of the flagpole fiasco with Diamond Tiara. One pony had kept her dignity that day, even while soaked through to the skin in a white T-shirt. The other one had simply blamed it on the family butler.
So both colts had escaped unscathed, although Pipsqueak had been tasked with giving Applebloom the notice of a month-long ban from the Alley. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, as known accomplices, had merely received a week's banishment. Sweeper had thrown up his hands, taken the data they'd accumulated, and gone home. Pipsqueak couldn't blame him, since he had been the test subject all evening. Privately, he was envious that his friend had gotten a Crusader-approved eyeful of Applebloom.
And as he sat by himself in Sugar Cube Corner, with Pinkie Pie pronking around and being pink, he sighed and held out a hand in front of him, trying to see what the girls had seen. Mistaken me for a mare? That was the craziest thing he'd heard. Sure, he'd been a bit gangly when he was younger, but he'd grown up and filled out. Or, at least, he thought he had. Unconsciously, he flexed his arm and did his best to assess the curve of his bicep. It was enough, wasn't it? Then he remembered what Applebloom had said about fitting her hand against him.
His white ears waggled as he thought. Maybe Scootaloo was just reacting to all the times she'd been accused of being a colt, using some sort of turnaround as fair play and he'd just gotten caught up in it. But Applebloom had been so sure . . .
He kicked one hind leg up to cross over his knee, looking down at the splotch of brown colour on his right hoof, then at the cuffs of his trousers. The salespony had convinced him that the slim line of these black pants had been the way to go. He tried to fit both his hands around his thigh, to see if he was getting too skinny.
Then he looked up and blinked, because Applebloom was standing beside him, palms flat on the table, with the neck of her shirt gaping and giving him a view of her cleavage. He noticed that she had yet to put her bra back on, but she was less than curvy, so you really had to be looking to see it. “Did you get what you needed from that?”
Pipsqueak nodded. “It wasn't really much of a sample size, so Twilight's going to question the results, but he still didn't throw a gutter ball. Like I said, we'd have to do it again. I just don't think you should have to be the one. You already flashed him once. And, uh, you really didn't have to the first time, either.” He looked past her for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.
She waved it off and sat beside him. “I've been good for too long. Kinda missed doin' something silly like that. And they're comin'. I just wanted to get here before them, cause you looked a little freaked out back there when Scoots was diggin' into your psyche.” Sighing contentedly, she sipped her sarsaparilla float, the treat ensuring that Pinkie Pie wouldn't disturb them. “You're pretty good-lookin', Pips. Even I can't deny it and I can't really be bothered to look around right now.” She tossed her red ponytail back over her shoulder and swished her real pony tail from side to side. “But it ain't a bad thing, really, what she said. So don't let it get to you.”
He waved his hands over his own bowl of chocolate ice cream rather helplessly. “I don't understand. She makes one comment about me looking like a mare and I lose my mind?”
“Ain't just that.” Applebloom shrugged and took another long pull on her drink. “Like Sweetie said, you're light on your hooves. And with your pinto colourin', you don't quite have the chest definition that other colts like Truffle or Snips have. Or me.” She gave her own small breasts a quick heft and chuckled. “Just the way your genes have gone, I guess. So, yeah, you had what Rarity would call 'quite the silhouette' and it got Scootaloo's attention.”
“Darn right it did,” came her voice from behind him. He jumped a little and mentally cursed himself for not putting his back against the wall. Then there was a gentle weight against him as she settled her hands on his shoulders and pressed herself against him. “Don't you move, pretty boy,” Scootaloo murmured, kissing him behind the ear. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sweetie Belle settling in across from Applebloom and grinning just as widely.
“Hello, Scoots,” Pipsqueak said weakly, flicking his ears away from her hot breath. “Not that I mind the attention, but could you please make up your mind on what gender you think I am?”
“What's the fun in that?” she asked, giving his shoulders a rub before lifting herself off and plunking herself down right across from him. “What if I think you're cuter as a mare than as a stallion? Is that so terrible?” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and thumped her friend on the shoulder, but Scootaloo shrugged it off and just turned her smile back to Pipsqueak.
Well, his life was getting weirder than it had been an hour or so ago. He'd stepped into the middle of something back there in the bowling alley, he was sure of it. Even if nopony else at the table was aware of it.
Pinkie Pie poinged up, yodelled her latest song about baking, delivered a pair of cupcakes split down the middle with scoops of ice cream in between, and then vanished as quickly as she'd shown up. It was all part of the Sugarcube Corner experience and all four ponies both expected and appreciated it.
When the three mares turned back from the performance, Pipsqueak took a deep breath and decided to tackle the issue, hoping to pull it out of hiding. “I'm missing something here, aren't I?” he asked, as Pinkie's dust-outline pranced about before disappearing in a puff.
Sweetie Belle shook her head. “Nah. We just went bowling today to get Scootaloo to cool off a little. She's been needing to burn off energy since she got home from the racing circuit last week. Havin' a real job like the rest of us now is just killin' her.”
“My routine's all off,” Scootaloo grumbled, digging in with her spoon before her ice cream could melt too much. “I can't go flying for six hours a day here in Ponyville. Well, I can, but it's weather work and not speed laps.”
“She's been runnin' hot for days,” Applebloom added. “And it don't help that we aren't all as free with our time as we used to be. Sweetie's barely been able to keep her in check.” She ignored her friend sticking her tongue out at her. “So you came along and she got all fired up. Maybe you can drag her to your Twilight Time later and let the Princess put her to work or something. You'd give the both of us a break. ”
Pipsqueak sighed in regret. “Wish I could. Princess Twilight and the others are away from Ponyville right now on a Mission of Friendship again.”
Raising her head from her snack, Scootaloo scowled cutely. “I knew that. Rainbow Dash isn't here to push me like I'm used to.”
“See?” Applebloom squeezed his shoulder. “You ain't missin' anything. Scoots is just all het up.” She looked across at her friend. “You need to get laid or something. That'll wear you out good.”
Scootaloo raised her shoulders a fraction of an inch, as if putting any more effort into her shrug would have major consequences on her health. “Oh, sure. I'll just grab Sweetie Belle, go home, and bang her through my cloud bed.”
Pipsqueak was grateful he didn't have a float with him, because he was sure he would have spat it all over a hotly-blushing Sweetie Belle after hearing that. They both had white coats, which made embarrassment that much more visible than darker ponies. “Whoa, whoa, whoa . . . ”
Scootaloo smirked at him. “Little too much information there?”
He nodded.
“Hey, I saw the way you were looking at me back in the bowling alley. You know, before I started saying you were one of the prettiest mares I'd seen in ages.” She set her forearm down on the table and gave a purposeful little flex. “So, do you like what you see, Pipsy?”
Now he was about to put his hoof in it. But as sexy as she made herself, Pipsqueak had his self-respect. “I'm not a stud service, Scoots.”
“Course you're not,” she scoffed. “If anything, I'd be servicing you. Trust me, you can't knock me up.” Scootaloo scooped the last mouthful of cupcake and cream into her mouth and swallowed, licking her lips. “See, I'm all about the mares, dude. But you're kinda setting something off in me that makes me think you'd be the first colt I'd even consider.” She sighed and flexed both arms this time, showing that they rivalled Applebloom's in muscles. “However, and I can't stress this enough, you'd be my mare, not the other way around.”
Pipsqueak chuckled a little at that, but it petered out when neither Sweetie Belle nor Applebloom joined in. He felt a sudden void open up in his stomach, equal parts trepidation and curiosity. Scootaloo was hot, really, and being the first colt ever in her would be amazing, but there was just something in her mood that gave him a little bit of a scare. In a good way, though. Maybe there was a way to keep his self-respect and still indulge her. And himself.
Scootaloo tilted her head, maybe sensing what he was feeling. “You know how it usually goes down, yeah?”
He nodded. He'd been behind the barn once or twice before with very enthusiastic and feminine partners. Everypony had had a good time, for what it was worth.
“Well, with me, it's a little different. And before you start reconsidering your stud service, let me show you.” She glanced around the bakery. There were no other ponies present except the four of them, plus Pinkie Pie somewhere in the kitchen, judging by the sound of singing and the crashing of muffin tins. Then she reached beneath the table and Pipsqueak felt her fingers fumbling for his. "C'mere," Scootaloo murmured, snagging his hand and sliding it carefully between her knees. "Don't panic, mm'kay? I'm trusting you with this. Just ... here.." His fingers stroked along her leg and she breathed out, shifting in her chair as she squeezed her strong thighs against his wrist, guiding him higher . . . and then his palm caressed something through her sweatpants, making his ears flick right back.
He knew a sheath when he felt one.
Scootaloo inhaled again and let his hand go, but he didn't pull it back right away. Both of them were half-hunched over at the table and he looked into her violet eyes as he traced the outline of her groin. Then he shook himself and snapped upright. He could feel the heat in his face again.
“Nopony else knows,” she whispered. “Except a couple of Cutie Mark Crusaders . . . and now you.”
Pipsqueak swallowed hard and —as much as he had tried not to during the day — looked at her chest more closely. The sports bra had her breasts encased, but there were some curves there, although very slight. She was still a mare. Just . . . “Might I ask . . . how?”
“Well, it could be that one of Applebloom's old Twilight Time potions didn't do what it was supposed to do.” Scootaloo leaned back and began ticking off on her fingers. “Or, if you believe Diamond Tiara, I'm just a colt pretending to be a mare and should just admit it. Or I'm a freak of nature who was born with it. Maybe it's a Pegasus thing. Or Luna's got a weird sense of humour when it comes to inspiring ponies. Or I fell into Poison Joke the other month and it's taking forever to wear off. Oh, or I'm a changeling. Can't forget that one.” She shrugged. “One of them is true. It's cooler if I don't tell you which, just to add to the mystery.”
He looked over at the others, who both shrugged. “Hey, she's our friend. We ain't givin' away her secrets,” Applebloom said.
“Not when we're in on them.” Sweetie Belle blushed at that. “Uhh, yeah. Trust me, it's real. She's real.”
This was all too much, too fast, so Pipsqueak closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Maybe that meant they were dating, or perhaps they'd just had an every-colt's-fantasy slumber party where pillows were tossed and fillies got naked. And right now, it wasn't important. The filly —well, mare — that he thought was so butch was actually packing a sheath. And she was offering to . . . well, do things to him, probably involving his own equipment and hers together. It was very confusing. And just a little exciting.
“You okay?” came Applebloom's quiet voice, right up against his ear.
He nodded, not ready to open his eyes yet.
“It's okay if you're curious, y'know. My brother always said bein' curious wasn't a sin.” He felt her hand begin to rub his back and his breathing eased up, the tension lessening. “I was curious, too, but it took just one look for me to be all satisfied.” She snorted, almost nickering at him. “You're looking like you might be eager for more than just a glance. And that's okay, too. Scoots is willin' to take you on.” Her chuckle ruffled his ear. “Jes' make sure she plays fair with you, okay?”
His ear flicked up and that and he opened one eye to look at her. “You mean . . .”
“Don't let her hog all the fun.” Applebloom shot a look across the table. “You get what I'm talkin' about, Scoots. You slot one home in him, you're lettin' him have a go at your round little rump, too.”
Scootaloo sulked, looking put-upon. “Fiiiine. But Sweetie Belle's gonna be there, too. She can take one for the team.”
Pipsqueak's ears twitched and he squeezed his eyes shut once more. It was a mental image he was having a very hard time not imagining, Scootaloo kneeling over him, grinning as she thrust home . . . and his attention refocused on his surroundings as there was a thump and a yelp from across the table as Scootaloo got whapped again.
“Says who?” Sweetie Belle sounded half-amused, half-intrigued, which was precisely the way he was feeling at the moment. “I'm coming with, all right, but I decide which of you I'm rolling over on.”
Applebloom just kept rubbing his back, as if she knew how much of a struggle he was facing. “S'okay, Pips. She's somethin', I know. Just think of it like learnin', but for your body. Like Twilight Time.” She laughed. “Sort of a 'Scootaloo Summit', huh?”
“Scootaloo Symposium?” Sweetie Belle suggested, sounding doubtful.
“Seminar,” he said, opening his eyes again and finding a way to grin. “Definitely seminar.”
Scootaloo growled at all of them and crossed her arms. “When I get home, I'm looking those words up.”
He peeled himself off the couch and, wincing at the results of his introduction to the joys of a horny Scootaloo, stumbled across the room and into the hall, where the mare herself was just coming out of the bathroom, clothed only in a swirl of steam.
She stopped as she saw him, then smiled. “Hey. I swapped the clouds out so the hot water's fresh. Want a minute, then I'll help wash your tail?”
As she stepped aside for him, he looked down at the body that had been pressed against his for the last while. The haze of lust had lifted, but even now, the sight of her made him twitch. Her breasts were still enticing, her sheath soft and alluring, and her smile warmed his chest. Then he felt a trickling reminder of what she had just finished doing and switched his tail down against his rump. “Uhh . . . yes. Good idea.” He hurried past her.
A few minutes later, the cloud-shower was running again and he was letting a grinning Scootaloo back into the bathroom. “Sorry,” she said. “Guess I forgot that it was your first time dealing with that. You all right?” At his nod, she picked up the soap and immediately nudged him into the stream of hot water. Pressing herself right into his front, she reached around his waist to begin working her fingers through his dock. “So. Was it good for you, too?”
Pipsqueak gazed down at her. “It's something I won't forget soon.” He put his own hands on her hips. If he looked straight down, he could see her sheath rubbing against his. “Neither is that.” It still didn't bother him at all. It could mean several things, but rather than panicking, he just let her glide against him. If it was something she liked and felt that good, she could do it.
Scootaloo looked down, then back up at him. “You know what you are,” she said, delicately wringing his tail out. “You're a Scootasexual. Doesn't matter what I'm packing, because you want it, don't you?” Surprised by her pointing it out, he tried to back up a step, but she held onto him and kept her body pressed against his. “Dude, you let me ride your ass on a whim! You don't go doing that if you're not really into the mare.” She shrugged. “Well, unless you like that sort of thing on your own, but I don't believe you even considered it at Sugarcube Corner before I put your hand there. When did you make up your mind?”
He let his breath out and his hips continued to sway with her kneading. “Oh, about the moment I saw you looking all griffin-may-care at the bowling alley,” he admitted. “Scoots, I know you're the kind of mare I like, because I can look at you and go, 'Yeah, I’d let her rail me like she was the Crystal Express'. And if you happen to have some mysterious reason that involves having a stallion's lower half, I don't care.”
“Yeah, and that’s my problem,” she said, giving a small snort and smacking the back of his thigh lightly. “You're still lusting after me, even after our little ride out there. I mean, you're cool and all, Pipsqueak, but you deserve a mare. And that's really what I like, too.” She gave another quick glance down. “Plus, you know, breasts. I really like breasts. Fuzzy breasts like mine. Breasts are awesome.” She traced one briefly, then she shuddered and closed her eyes as he palmed the other one and began kneading. “Oh, dude, come on.”
“What?” he asked. “Is this one time? 'A kiss, a dare, thank you, you pretty mare'?” He pulled Scootaloo closer and she hissed as she stood up on tiptoe to swipe her mouth against his. The kiss was hard and fierce and she put her weight behind it, backing him right up against the cloud wall.
Then she flapped her wings once and her legs were wrapped around his waist. “Let me remind you what it was. It was you agreeing to get me laid,” she pointed out, eye to eye with him, “and you were a great lay, Pips. I will always remember you for doing this. I even admire you for doing it. But your infatuation with me is going to fade. You aren't going to lie in bed at night and dream about cocky little me.” She raised an eyebrow. “If you know what I mean.”
He got his hands beneath her rump to hold her up. “Yeah, you may be right. It's hard to know how it would work. You're brash, I'm not; You're a speedster who spends half her life touring the country; I'm the colt who never goes anywhere or does anything interesting. Or anyone. Well,” he added, “Until about ten minutes ago.” Ignoring her derisive snort, he braced his forearm beneath her tail and cupped her neck with his other hand. “But am I really just a one-night stand?”
“You're welcome to be.” Scootaloo half-closed her eyes as he rubbed her. “I don't see them as a bad thing, because, y'know, it's not like I bang everypony. It's just been Sweetie Belle up until now. I trusted you with my secret, dude, just like I trust her or Applebloom. That's not a one-night stand, that's a lifetime commitment to keeping me safe. Because one day, somepony might find out who won't be so understanding or accepting. And I'm gonna need your help.” She brushed a wet fringe of her purple mohawk off her forehead. “It would be easier if I was just some sort of femme-y stallion. At least I could use the excuse that I just had a flat chest. But this is harder to explain.” Scoots wiggled her sheath against his. “Mmm. Forgive the pun.”
With his back against the wall, he looked at her. “Wait. It's not bad that we're only, uh . . .”
“Fuck-buddies,” she murmured, her voice imbuing the word with a certain amount of onomatopoeia. “it's the highest honour I can give a pony right now. Not one member of any of the racing teams in all of Canterlot knows I'm packing. Not one of the ponyrazzi knows. No. One. Knows. I can't imagine how many odds I've beaten to not be found out so far. I mean, I'm not huge and it's not easy to spot, but one of these days, my luck is going to run out. And I'm going to need friends I know. Not lovers, but friends. One-night stands won't attract as much attention as a relationship would, because those I can lie about.”
He sighed. “Scoots, it would be easier if you did decide to date me. No one would guess that you've got a sheath if you had a colt back home. Then no one would even ask about it.”
“I am NOT using you as camouflage!” she hissed. “It's unfair to you and it's unfair to your feelings.”
Both of them fell silent, just in time to hear a low cry from the other room, even over the sound of rainwater.
Scootaloo grinned. “Sweetie?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She, uh, said the third ones make her horn spark.”
Scootaloo climbed down off him and stroked her hands down his wet chest. “We should get out there, then.” She grimaced and changed her tone. “I'm not mad at you. I'm a little mad at myself for not being able to return those feelings you're having for me. I'm really all about mares.” She smiled. “You think you're going to help me by having a safe place set aside if I crash and burn. But I'd just rather my friends be there to help. I can always come home again.” Her fingers dug into his coat and he grunted as she gave a little tug on his chest tuft. “So, uh, one more for the road? I did say you made a fine mare. I can give you one more go.”
Pipsqueak gestured. “Won't we just end up back in here arguing some more afterwards?”
“Sure.” Scootaloo looked at him, then thumped him on the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“That uncertain look on your face. Don't you recognize a hypocrite when you see one?” She blew air out in disdain and mussed up her mohawk. “You're pretty good at being all sexy, okay? I like it, even if I don't really like colts. So let's go before I change my mind and hoof you out.”
The living room still smelled of sex and pony musk. A rather pleased and dazed-looking Sweetie Belle, her mane as mussed as Scootaloo's, had kissed them both and made her excuses to dash out briefly. Pipsqueak noted that she had indeed taken the time to flip the couch cushions, but he wasn't sure if it was smart to sit back down on them, given the indications of previous stains.
He looked at Scootaloo, who had put her hands on her hips and was frowning at the furniture as well. “Not so sexy afterwards, is it?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “We can always mess up a cloud chair or something. No armrests is good for getting the kind of spread I like. But I really have to get those things dry-cleaned. I just keep forgetting.”
“And how long have you been an adult?” he asked, grinning.
“Shut up.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she flared her still-damp wings and spritzed him. “You want a patented Scootaloo-brand blowjob or what?”
Now Pipsqueak laughed. “Patented? Didn't you just give your first one half an hour ago?”
“Yeah.” She made a mad face at him, even as she stalked closer and put her arms around his neck, shimmying her breasts. “And I'll rip you out of your sheath if you tell anyone this, but you were kinda nice. So I want to do it again. And I want you to watch.”
“You,” he told her, holding her hips steady, “are just every mare's dream, aren't you?”
She smirked. “And you're a filthy Scootasexual. That's hot.” She bumped her sheath against his. “So, sit or stand?”
Pipsqueak groaned at the mental image of her going to her knees in front of him. This was the first time she'd even given him a choice, obviously trying to make up for her earlier rejection of his offer. Well, if this was the way she wanted things, he would just have to respect her wishes. “Kneel down, Scoots.”
Scootaloo wriggled as she obeyed. The sight of her looking up at him as she massaged his sheath was enough to bring him out and she quickly slid her palms along his length. “Dude, you're bigger than me. That's hardly fair.”
He sighed, not believing he was having this talk with her, especially with her down there. “Scoots, I'm pretty sure most stallions are bigger than you. Are you even going to tell me how it happened now? I thought you trusted me.”
“Oh, I do.” She kissed the underside of his cock, cupping his testicles. “I told you, too. The real reason's in there somewhere. I just think if you really knew, it'd be weird, that's all.” Her head came up and she slipped him into her mouth. “Mmmmph.”
The incongruity of that statement made his head spin, although that might have been her sucking. Like everything else she did, Scootaloo really didn't have a technique, but she made up for it all with enthusiasm and a fast learning-curve.
Her head bobbed up and down in his grasp and her cheeks hollowed as she blew him, nice and slow. She occasionally peeked up at him, watching his expression, hooding her eyes with each caress of her pony ears. She did shake off the occasional attempt to guide her head or to push her down further, but would acquiesce to a gentle thrust now and then, taking his cock as deep as she could before pulling back and mouthing him some more. While she kept one hand wrapped around his length, she would reach down with her free hand to stroke her own cock as it began to emerge once more.
Finally Pipsqueak's longing for her outweighed the pleasure she was giving him and he gave the tips of her ears a tug, making her purr against him and look up. “My turn, Scoots, huh?”
She chuckled and rolled from her knees to stretch out onto her side in front of him. “Oh, yeah? See something you like?” She traced her outline for him, arching her shoulders back.
A mare with whom he had already done things he was certain few stallions could have? A mare who preferred her own kind, even though she wasn't quite the same? A mare so stunning to his eyes that she could even make masturbating her own small cock a sight to behold?
Pipsqueak didn't say any of that. Instead he glanced behind him, then stepped into her kitchen, picked up one of the cloud chairs there, and brought it back to her. Setting it down, he sat and spread his legs open for her, patting his thighs. “Come on over.”
“~Come on over,~” she sang, a very large grin on her face as she picked up on his cue, “~come on over, baby . . .~” Showing that she should have been a dancer rather than a racing pony, she twirled up to her hooves gracefully. Sashaying over to him, she moved her hands to his shoulders and massaged him with deep circles of her thumbs. “You do love this cock, don't you?”
“If it's yours, then yes,” he said, looking up at her. “If it were on somepony like Applebloom, I'd be much more intimidated. Even if I haven't seen her breasts like everypony else in town.”
Scootaloo pouted and kneaded just a little bit harder, making him moan. “Awww, are you thinking about somepony else's breasts instead of mine?” She shimmied them. “I mean, hers are kinda awesome, but they're just as small. None of the Crusaders ever really got busty, though.”
Pipsqueak reached up to give one a squeeze, even as his other hand began stroking her cock. Her head went back with a pleased sigh and he grinned as he kissed her tip, making her hips tilt. “You're all so athletic,” he murmured, moving his hand to her thigh to cup and caress it. It was as thick as his chest, he would swear. “Look at you here; you're so muscled.” He licked her cock again and she swayed, caressing his cheeks with it as she began her pre-coital cooing.
“Suck it, babe?” she murmured. “I really like it when you do that.”
“I might have learned a thing or two a couple minutes ago watching you,” he joked, tracing the outline of her medial ring, before rubbing his chin against her.
Scootaloo moved her massaging up to his ears, her thumbs sliding hotly into the insides and beginning to stroke, making his head sway in her grasp. “Oh, have you?” she asked. “Was hurrying up and taking it in your mouth not one of them?”
Pipsqueak gave her another quick, firm suck, eliciting a groan from her. “I thought you wanted to enjoy this.” His stroking became a careful hand-over-hand pulling on her length before he gave in to her inevitable tugging and pleading little whinnies and let her thrust up into his mouth again.
“There you go, babe,” she said, sighing and working his ears good and hard. “Suck my cock, just like that.”
Scootaloo talked an awful lot when she was enjoying herself, but he had seen —and felt— when she was serious, she would shut up and let her hips do the talking instead. For her, it was all foreplay until it was time to dig in and go to work on whichever pony she was fucking. But her ear-rubs were sheer bliss.
Pipsqueak's sounds of pleasure were muffled around her as she fondled him, the pressing and tugs expertly bobbing him on her length and he took her slow thrusts again and again. Her breathy moans and explicit descriptions of how she liked his mouth had him so very hard as well.
It was possible that she planned on finishing off down his throat, given the way her hips were beginning to pop, but then she stood back and he got his first view of something other than a firm and fuzzy orange navel.
Scootaloo grinned down at him, her slick, firm cock curved up against her stomach. “Not bad, babe. So? Turn over for me?” She turned to reach for her lube bottle, but paused as she saw Sweetie Belle sitting on the arm of the couch with it in her hand. “Oh, hey, Sweetie. All good to go?”
“About as good as you are, apparently.” Sweetie Belle pointed out, stretching her hind legs and kicking her hooves. “You remember what Applebloom said, right? You slot one home in him, you have to give him a fair shot, too. Well, you came. And now it's his turn.”
She blinked and Pipsqueak could see the gears turning as that agreement she had casually waved off back at Sugarcube Corner came back to her. Her wince was impressive. “Oh. Uh . . .”
“No 'uh's, 'but's, or 'no way's, Scoots.” Sweetie Belle waggled the bottle at her. “You have an obligation.” And she sounded far too eager at the prospect. At the same time, Pipsqueak almost raised his hand, but hesitated. Sure, it was his body they had been playing with all night and he obviously had a say on if he would get to take Scootaloo's, well, rear end, as it were. But the least smart thing to do was to get between those two mares in this sort of situation.
“Aw, come on!” Scootaloo yipped. “I can just keep blowing him, can't I? It counts if he comes in my mouth.” She swished her violet tail, showing off that pert little rear that she obviously didn't want to give up. The backs of her legs were thoroughly muscled and the sight of them tapering up into her powerful glutes made him lick his lips.
“Not what you promised,” Sweetie admonished her. “You blew a load in him. He gets one in return.”
Scootaloo pouted and looked back at him. “No offense, dude, but I'm too awesome. I give cock, I don't take it. You were pretty awesome in taking it, though.”
He shrugged. “Thanks, I guess. But you're just going to leave me no choice in the matter? Not cool, Scoots.” It felt like the weirdest time to do this, when all three of them were naked, but he wasn't sure what she would do if she kept her insistence up.
She sighed, looking regretful. “All right. I mean, if it's not cool, that's not good. But you're gonna have to make me take it. And I'm not talking by some grand, romantic, sappy gesture. If I'm going to get cocked, there's gonna be a struggle. That okay?”
Grinning, Sweetie Belle shrugged and reached out, taking her friend by the shoulder to face her. “You're going to say no when you mean yes?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “That okay? If I really, really want to stop, I'll say . . . what, 'rainbow'? I can remember that if I have to.”
Sweetie glanced at Pipsqueak. “Pay close attention to what she says. She's trusting us again with this.”
He nodded. “Right.”
“Good. Now . . .” With her arms slipping around Scootaloo's shoulders, Sweetie tilted her head and took her in a long, drawn-out kiss, slipping her tongue past her lips. Slim breasts pressed against her chest, the two mares drawing close, even as Sweetie bumped her hips against Scootaloo's. It was a full-body kiss, one reserved for the most intimate of companions. And, as Scootaloo broke away and panted at her with her tongue fully lolling out of her mouth, Sweetie Belle stroked her fingers through her friend's violet tail and flicked it at Pipsqueak, winking.
With a nod, he reached out and caught the proffered tail to tug gently, the little mare thankfully not kicking out. She did give a tiny yelp and stumble backwards as he reeled her in, bringing her front right up against him again. “Hey!”
“Caught you,” he pointed out. “Scoots, I don't want to hurt you, or hold you back, or even tie you down. I mean, not yet. We just hooked up. So can I offer you a choice?”
She grumbled a little, but let him ruffle her tail, ears pricked and listening. “Go on, then. And make it good.”
Pipsqueak sighed and kneaded tenderly. “I'll be honest. You're beautiful and buff. Your thighs alone are worth a week of attention from any pony. And your breasts are a thing of beauty” He kissed her chest and tucked her tail up against her back, searching for the words that could hold her attention as Sweetie Belle silently moved up behind her. “And if it came to a real struggle, you'd overpower me easily. But I know you aren't going to hurt me, just like I'm not going to hurt you. Because I really, really want get you all spread out,” His voice dropped to a whisper, “you horny little mare.”
Scootaloo jerked in shock as her friend suddenly squeezed the bottle right up beneath her dock. “GAAAAAH!” She whipped about and glowered at Sweetie as lube coursed down the back of her thighs.
“What? It wasn't that cold.” Sweetie grinned and danced back out of reach.
Pipsqueak snagged Scootaloo by her tight hips and hauled her back before she could pitch a larger fit. His cock dipped between her legs to be drenched in lube, and she suddenly twigged to what was going on as the tip slipped right up beneath her tail and nudged her firm rear end. She wriggled, but her legs were eased apart by his knees between them and she glanced back at him as he lifted her tail for her. “Oh, no. No, no, no, dude.”
He nodded. “Oh, yes. Just think of this as part of the struggle. Is that okay?”
Scootaloo gave a nod and a tiny squeak, even as she made a half-hearted attempt to get away. But she was off balance and Pipsqueak had her by the waist again as she lashed her tail at him. Her hips were rolling, though, as he carefully brought her down. Then his cock was pressing between her legs and she was blushing at the feel of it. “Nngh . . . you're big. Oh, fuck, are you really going to put in me?” Her ears went back and she writhed, but couldn't stop the slow working back and forth as his thumbs kneaded her glutes.
“Yeah,” he murmured, lifting his hips a little more to press his tip into her dock, then down between her cheeks, where she was slickest, and she gasped a little as the head nudged into her. “Is this okay?”
“Y-y-yeah,” she gasped. “Get on with it. Make me a mare, huh?”
“Slowly,” he assured her. Her firm behind was hypnotizing him with its glide against his tip as she stroked him with her rump. Then everything lined up and the head of his cock sank into her. Her startled yip was matched by his pleased moan and she rocked forward off of him, only to be caught and brought back to be slowly penetrated again. “Uh-uh, Scoots. Not escaping. You good?”
“It's okay. I told you I wasn't going to give it easily,” she said, breathing harder. “But feathers, that just surprised me.” Then her grunt became a groan and her head hung down as she finally did give in, his cock easing into her ass. She panted and arched her back as she took another inch, with nowhere to go but down, although his rocking back and forth opened her up and gave her time to adjust and take it.
Another slow thrust and she was off-balance, her hands seeking purchase on his thighs. “Fuuuuck,” she moaned. “Can't believe I'm getting cocked.” Groping back, she shuddered as she sank down a bit more, then she was bottoming out on him with her hard thighs meeting his.
Sweetie Belle chuckled. “Oh, you should see her face right now. Her eyes are almost crossed.”
Scootaloo gave an exploratory squirm, her wings beginning to buzz as she moved, but Sweetie moved forward to put her hands on her friend's thighs, pressing her back down so she was completely hilted. “Nuh-uh. All the way.”
Her little whine was impressively sexy, and Pipsqueak held onto her waist as she leaned back on him, her head nearly against his shoulder. He kissed her cheek and gave her neck a bite. “You're on me, you pretty mare. I think I'll let you get used to my cock in your ass, then you're going to bounce.”
Scootaloo's whine increased. “Awwwww. That's my thing! Can't I do all fours or something?”
Sweetie Belle kissed her throat, sitting on her other side. “Sit, Scoots. You're hot like this. No rainbows?”
Her ears waggled, as any talk of awesomeness or hotness increased her odds of liking it. “Nooo. . . it's cool.”
“So sexy,” he assured her, stroking her as he rolled her hips on him, letting her feel just how full she was. She was tight but sopping, thanks to Sweetie literally squirting her up the ass. “Just sit there and take it.”
“Since when do you get to be all 'take my cock, Scootaloo'?” she growled, adding a little roll to her hips, her hooves off the ground since her hind legs were hooked over his. She was caught and she knew it, but she was taking her turn, no matter how much she grumbled. Her safeword was still unused.
Pipsqueak eased up on his grip, lifting one of her legs by the back of the knee, then the other, spreading her open. “Ready? I'll be gentle.” He had no upper body strength that matched hers, so it wasn't like he would be able to give it as good as she did, but that wasn't quite the point. The pose made her lean all the way back against him to fight for balance and she lifted her arms to loop them around the back of his neck.
“You'd better be.” She made some soft noises as she was jounced lightly. “Bastard,” she mumbled, then her eyes widened. “OHH!” Her cock twitched and her mouth fell open. “Whoa. Right there. Do that again?”
Sweetie shifted with interest. “Ooh, what did you do?”
“He's . . . ahhh . . . felt sooo good. AHH!” Scootaloo whined, lifted up slightly, then slid down and the same noise came from her as Pipsqueak's cock nuzzled her prostate once more. He hadn't planned on it, either. She was just at that angle and was squirming atop him as he thrust. “Fucker's so full in me . . . UNGH!” Her cock bobbed, nearly streaming with arousal, and she couldn't lift a hand to hold herself. His pumping was hitting her in the right spots and she was responding to it with a nearly rock-hard erection.
She looked over at him. “How about a hand?” she begged, squeezing her own linked fingers behind his neck.
Pipsqueak kissed her. “Then I'd have to let you go and you wouldn't be getting this as good as you are.” He gave her another push and she stifled her yelp as the now-constant trickle from her cock reached his groin. He finally did let her knees go, as his arms weren't strong enough to keep a body like hers contained forever, but he did pull her knees apart to keep her open on him,
She moaned as she looked down at herself and saw how much she was spread, then glanced over at Sweetie Belle, who was just grinning and watching her. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. I think you're gonna get off on your own, even without my help,” she said, lounging back casually.
“I hate both of you,” Scootaloo hissed, then her cock twitched again and she nearly cried at the sustained pressure of Pipsqueak tugging her hips right down on him, his cock pressed into her suddenly-tender prostate. It made her buck and stream more arousal down her own cock. “AAAAH!”
Her noises and her tightness had him nearly throbbing, his pulse hammering in his groin as Scootaloo rocked on him and he watched her rump grind. He could only breathe harder and thrust into her as she rode his cock, but then he felt the beginning of the end for him. “Gonna come, Scoots. Gonna come hard.”
Her ears flicked back and she gave another growl, as if to try to ward off what she was sensing, but Pipsqueak coaxed her into surrendering, reaching around to begin pumping her cock. She was still streaming, shocking him with how slick she was as she bounced up and down, her hard thighs slapping his. She'd taken over the ride somehow, sometime before and was now bucking like the little bronco she was.
“Oh, yeah, stroke my cock,” she panted, using her legs to clench and grind. “Been making me moan with yours long enough.” Scootaloo tossed her head and her wings flared as if she were lifting off, but then was tugged back down to settle on his cock and she yelped as she felt him flare inside her suddenly.
“Oh, you bastard! NNNNGH!” Scootaloo arched her shoulders, panting hard as he groaned and filled her with his first hot, full spurt of cum. Her cock schlicked in his grasp, her body almost milking him as he pushed her hard towards her own climax. "Ugh, you utter bastard," she moaned as he kept coming inside her, obviously feeling the spurts. "Just fucking coming in me like that." A soft cup and pull on her length made her yelp and roll her hips as she took another hot gush.
As Pipsqueak grunted and finished off in her ass, Scootaloo gave an anticipatory sob and he felt her own cockhead flare, so he tucked her length up against her stomach and held it there as she squirmed on him. Her indignant yelp at the first spurt that soaked her coat and spattered through his fingers made him just thrust up against her, even though he was spent.
She came good and hard against her own body and his hand, riding it out like a little champ. Then she finally slumped back, panting. There was a pause as she collected herself, then, rather than cuddle back into him, she wriggled off and stood there, half of her front completely bedraggled and dripping with the evidence of her orgasm. Her thighs and tail dripped with the evidence of his orgasm, and she scowled at him in the most intense and erotic fashion as her chest heaved. “Dude. Not cool. Sure, I deserved it, but not cool.”
“Of course not. It was hot,” Sweetie Belle explained from over on the couch, where she'd obviously taken shelter outside the blast radius. “Are you sure you have enough spare clouds for that much cum?”
Scootaloo snorted and gently swatted Pipsqueak's hand away. “I'm getting this out of me. Feel free to follow, if you want. As for you, Sweetie, go get yourself off again or something.” She ignored Sweetie Belle's giggle and stomped from the room.
The little white mare put her chin in her cupped palm and grinned at him. “Good one, handsome. I think she liked that.”
Pipsqueak tried to catch his breath. “That's . . . pretty athletic. Should have just let her drop onto her hands and knees.” Scootaloo was a Pegasus, which meant she was lighter than the average pony, but she was also rather built, which meant she was a rather solid mass in her own right. Overall, he would have thought harder about taking up her offer for all fours.
“Yes, you should have thought of that before hauling her in.” She rolled over and kicked her hooves. “Ooomph.” Tilting her head back, Sweetie Belle gazed upside down at him. “I'd offer you a go on me, but I think it should wait until next time. If we even have a next time. She might wig out over this and ban us both from her bedroom.”
“We never reached the bedroom,” he pointed out, wincing as he pried himself off the couch. “How did that even happen?”
“She never lets anypony back there. She thinks it's too icky and lovey-dovey romantic if she takes somepony to bed.” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “As opposed to mounting them and making them shriek in orgasm, I guess.” She waggled her fingers at him in a mock little jazz-hands display. “Go hash out your relationship with the little spitfire, okay? I'll be here.”
Sighing, Pipsqueak limped once more towards Scootaloo's bathroom. He hoped this wasn't going to become a thing between the two of them. He'd be waterlogged if he had to have any more conversations beneath steaming-hot showers.
At his knock, Scootaloo opened the door, reached out and hauled him bodily into the room, shoving him beneath the water once more. “It's a good thing cloud homes don't dump their drainwater,” she said, yanking the cold-water chain and standing there, grinning as he yelped and danced away from the sudden shock. “Or everypony would know that there's sexy times going on.” Taking pity on him, she re-adjusted the temperature. “But I'm going to need to do soap-shopping after this. I wasn't expecting to even have company today.” She winced as she dug into her stomach, sluicing her own cum off beneath the spray. “Fuck, I haven't been that hard in ages. You cocked me pretty good.” She looked up at him. “And I'm sorry.”
“For what, not thinking that you'd get a turn?” he asked. “It's okay. We worked it out. Besides, you were the one who wanted one for the road.”
“Just didn't think it'd be my road you paved.” Scootaloo flicked her tail and made a face. “It wasn't fair to you and I am sorry about it. Just don't let word get out I'm good at taking it up the ass, mmkay?”
He chuckled and took his time cleaning up as she did her best to discover all the nooks in which she'd gotten sticky. Eventually she gave up and turned around to present herself for his help. He was more than happy to get his hands on her firm glutes once again. “I know it doesn't change anything, but you said I had made a lifetime commitment once I knew your secret. I can handle that.”
“Oh, sweet. Just don't tell the future Mrs. Squeak if she wonders why the five-time Air and Land Racing champion keeps hiding in your foals' treehouse. It'll be one of my safehouses after Sweet Apple Acres and whichever branch of Rarity's Boutique is closest if somepony ever discovers that I'm more than just a mare.” She sighed as her tail lifted and he washed her croup.
“What, no Rainbow Dash's house?” he asked. That struck him as the obvious first choice of shelter for her.
She shook her head. “I'd have to tell her, then. And she'd want me to get ahead of it and be honest with ponies and the whole thing. Being Rainbow Dash is all about everypony knowing you're awesome. But being Scootaloo means knowing you're awesome and not having to keep telling everypony that.” She preened a little. “Although, if the future Mrs. Squeak is cute enough and interested, she's welcome to learn for herself. You can take the foals out to the movies or something.”
Pipsqueak snorted. “Just remember to flip the couch cushions before we get back.”
She chuckled, but then sighed as he moved closer and soaped up her dock, just like she had done for him. “Dude, right there. That's the spot.”
“So,” he said to her, “You've had your colt as a mare. You've gotten taken like the mare you are, and you had a mare like you said you prefer. Productive day?”
“Yep, and I went bowling and got free ice cream out of it. Pretty good day,” Scootaloo admitted. “I'll say it again: You're a good colt and you made a fine mare for me.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “And if I ever had a choice, I'd let you make me a mare again any day.” Then she grimaced as he massaged the base of her tail. “Just . . . not right away. Also, I am trusting you. Don't let me down with this. I have leg muscles that will squeeze you until you cry. And I have friends with leg muscles that will make you scream.”
Pipsqueak let out a breath. “If that ever does happen? Can you make sure the last thing I see is Applebloom with her shirt up and taunting me? I can't die without having seen what everypony else has.”
She slugged him in the shoulder. “It's supposed to be punishment, not a last lingering look at a hot mare.” Slithering out of his grasp, she reached for a towel. “I'm starting to get pruney. Let's see if Sweetie Belle's found your briefs. They've probably gotten kicked under the couch. If we can't find them, I have some boxers that might fit you.” Her eyebrows went up. “Oooh, hang on. That would just be perfect. A pretty marecolt like you wearing a coltmare's boxers. A little souvenir to remember me by, huh?”
He stared at her. “You are a kinky little thing, aren't you?”
Scootaloo giggled. “Oh, yeah.”
Five minutes later, he was sitting on the couch, looking suspiciously at Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo was in her bedroom, selecting a pair of boxers for him. “Are you sure they aren't wadded up in the pocket of your shorts or something?
Sweetie Belle looked as innocent as a filly who had just finished Twilight Time, rather than a mare who had enthusiastically ridden his face just half an hour earlier. “Do these pockets look like they could hold anything wadded up?” She got up and spun around, showing off her slim shorts.
Pipsqueak briefly suspected they were tucked in her waistband beneath her shirt, but investigating would most likely involve something more than a simple shirt-flip and he didn't have the energy for another round with either mare at the moment. He would just accept Scootaloo's help, then take them off as soon as he got home and she could have them back the next time he saw her.
Scootaloo sauntered back in, wearing just her boxers and one of her black dress shirts with all the buttons undone. Naturally, she hadn't put her bra back on. Her hands were empty, too.
“Didn't find them, did you?” he asked, half-sarcastic.
“Nope. But you can have these.” Putting her thumbs in her waistband, Scootaloo pushed her underwear down her legs and stepped out of them. “Here, fresh off the mare.” She kicked them up onto a finger and held them out to him. “Just the way you like it.”
Well, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to wear them for a little longer.
FIN
