Tails from Ponyville High: Tight Ends Make the Best Receivers
Tight Ends Make The Best Recievers
Warning/ Disclaimer: The following story contains graphic depictions of sexual acts between two teenaged horses and was sewn together like a sexy Frankenstein of bad hentai tropes. If at any point you find yourself offended before, during or after reading then clearly I am doing something right.
Tails From Ponyville High:
Tight Ends Make The Best Receivers
Written By: Your Antagonist
Red Pen Heroes: Cpl. Hooves and TheWattsMan
Tight Ends Make The Best Recievers
“Fillies and gentlecolts and all you charming folks in between, welcome back to the final quarter of the Equestrian High School League Hoofball Playoffs where the Ponyville Apple Buckers are locked in an epic battle with the Trottingham Valiants for the right to the Championship title! It’s been an intense game so far and despite the Apple Buckers’ best efforts, the Valiants have managed to hold the lead 26 to 21 thanks to their impressive defensive line and with only one minute on the clock, if Ponyville can’t come up with another touchdown then it looks like the Valiants will take the season! Who’s gonna come out on top? Who’s gonna suck down that sloppy shame sandwich? Only the fates know for sure, but what I can tell you is that this is gonna be one helluva show! Now, come on sports fans, let me hear you go kah-ray-zee!”
As the hyper-ecstatic emcee’s voice boomed through the air and whipped the stadium into a cheering frenzy, Rumble, pensively sitting and sipping a can of Colt Sporty Drive on the Apple Buckers’ bench, couldn’t help but gaze distantly into the roaring crowd while he took in the gravity of the situation.
One minute. In just one minute every training drill, every pass, every tackle, every touchdown of every game, every exploit he and his team had earned over the last six months would either become supporting pillars of the Apple Buckers’ legendary reputation as an undefeated team with a ten year winning streak or come crashing down around them in a pile of shame and failure. And yet strangely enough, for all the tension in the atmosphere, the outcome of tonight’s game wasn’t the only thought occupying the colt’s mind.
Staring out into the sea of multi-hued sports enthusiasts, Rumble couldn’t help but notice that there were an awful lot of couples in the stands tonight, not that he particularly minded, of course. It was just that seeing so many enamored ponies reminded him of the fact that he hadn’t had a serious filly-friend since… well, it had been a long time, anyways.
Until recently, week-long relationships and casual hook-ups at parties had done a great job of satisfying his amorous teenage appetites, but lately he found himself wanting… something more. More than a one night stand or a fuck buddy he wanted a connection, something real that could offer him more pleasure and fulfillment than some fifteen minute encounter with a mare he’d wind up forgetting about within the hour. And yet, he knew better than to want anything more than just that, lest he end up getting hurt again.
Rumble sighed and scratched his mane. He didn’t need this right now. Seeking to depart from this particular train of thought, he glanced over to find his team’s cheerleading squad, energetic and lovely as always, going through one of their tirelessly-rehearsed pony-pyramid routines with the ever ‘humble’ ice-queen and team captain Diamond Tiara standing at the top. An impressive feat, made all the more awe-inspiring by the beauty and charming demeanors of the performers themselves.
All but two, Rumble noted upon seeing that a pair of the squad were sitting out this particular routine. He wasn’t particularly surprised to find Sweetie Belle on the bench. After all, the only reason Diamond had allowed her to join was because her sister made the cheer squad’s new outfits, despite the fact that Sweetie was—in Rumble’s humble opinion—ten times more talented than Diamond Tiara. All she needed was a chance to prove it, but she wasn’t going to get that opportunity tonight.
As for the other occupant gossiping with Sweetie Belle on the bench… well, Rumble hadn’t actually seen her before this moment… or had he? Was she new? No, she couldn’t be, there was no way in Tartarus that Diamond would just allow somepony new to join her squad this close to the end of the season. Squinting to get a better look at the new girl, Rumble noticed that she was holding a camera, and a peculiar sort at that. It was one of those retro models, complete with a ludicrously large flashbulb on the top that had gone out of style years ago, decades even.
‘Huh, that’s weird,’ he thought,‘The only other person I’ve seen with a camera like that in Ponyville is… wait, it couldn’t be.’ Rumble took a better look at the ‘filly’ in question and was shocked to find that she shared several traits with a certain photographer on his school’s newspaper staff. ‘Same mane color, same eyes, same camera. Just remove the make-up and you’ve got—’
“Rumble!” an older, graying-maned stallion bellowed, successfully startling the colt. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Ah! Coach Crab Apple!”
“Well, who were you expecting? Princess fucking Celestia?”
“N-no coach, I was just—”
“Ogling the damn cheerleading squad while your team prepares for the next, and may I remind you, final play of the game.”
Rumble looked to the playing field and he saw that his team had indeed begun to assemble without him. “Uh… oops?”
“Land’s sake, son, if you were half as interested in this game as you were in what’s up those pretty little skanks’ skirts, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this damn mess to begin with!”
“B-But Coach, I wasn’t— I mean that’s not what I was— you don’t understand—” Rumble found himself silenced by the simple gesture of his coach holding up a hoof to silence his stammering star quarterback.
“Look, son, I get it. I too was once a young stud charging down these fields, rutting the fine flanks of every filly silly enough to put on the Ponyville High cheerleading uniform and think she’d be walking home without a limp in her step, courtesy of yours truly. Hell, Rumble, I don’t blame you, there’s not a one of those little beauties over there that I ain’t thought about making walk funny my-damn-self, but right now I need you to get your shit together so we can crush these Trottingham cocksuckers and win this thing so I can go home tonight and proudly rut the living shit out of my girlfriend and hell, who knows, maybe even fuck my wife while I’m at it.”
“Err… right…” Rumble grimaced at the series of disturbing and very unwelcome mental images that had wedged themselves quite firmly into his thought processes.
“Now come on, Rumble,” Coach Crab Apple snatched up Rumble’s helmet from the bench and gruffly thrust it into the colt’s chest. “You ain’t gonna get your dick wet standing on the sidelines, gawking at the girls like some windowlicker riding the short cart to school. Get your ass in the game and win this thing: Ponyville’s counting on you.”
Rumble nodded, fitting the helmet snugly over his head. “Yeah, I’ll do my best, coach.”
“Don’t do your best, just do it.” The older stallion finished with a flare of his nostrils.
“Right,” Rumble replied, while strolling towards his comrades who were watching him expectantly from the center of the field.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the illustrious Captain Rumble,” chided Pipsqueak, the team’s wide receiver, who was busy adjusting the wither pads and helmet of a fellow player. “Finally decided to join your team for a crushing defeat, have you, mate?”
“Can it, Pipsqueak. We are not losing this game. Not without a fight. We’ve come too far this season to just to roll over and give Trottingham the win without showing them that the Apple Buckers aren’t the type to go down with putting up a hell of a struggle.”
“Oh, yeah! That’s what I like to hear, boss!” Exclaimed Scootaloo, the team’s running back who just so happened to be the team’s fastest and only female player. Being the sole female in a group of testosterone-spewing alpha males wasn’t easy, but Scootaloo more than earned her spot on the team. She wasn’t exactly the most popular pony, showing up the other guys on more than one occasion, and earned the ire that comes with the territory. Rumble was the first to give her the respect she deserved, and the two became fast friends. The rest of the guys soon followed suit, with her quickly becoming one of the most beloved members. And right now, that plucky ball of sugar and spice was the team’s best, nay, only hope of scoring the game-winning touchdown. “So what’s the plan then?”
“I thought that’d be obvious, especially considering the circumstances: we’re gonna rush the hell out of the ball. Or rather, you’re going to rush the ball straight through the center while we use the offensive line to punch a hole right through the middle of their defense, and as of right now, everyone except Scootaloo is a lineman. Even me. Even Pipsqueak. Got it?”
“Sounds good to me,” Scootaloo said with an enthusiastic nod.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Pipsqueak, “We’re going to risk the outcome of the game on a blatant eighty yard rush? That’s the best plan you could come up with? Mate, I don’t mean to tell you that’s mental, but that’s pretty damn stupid.”
“And I’m glad to hear you approve, Pip,” Rumble joked.
Pipsqueak shrugged. “Eh, we’ve done stupider and come out no worse for the wear, I suspect this bit of lunatic ingenuity will be no different.”
“Sardonic to the end, as always,” Rumble chuckled before turning to address his offensive line. “Hey, get ready to make some room for me and the other receivers on the line, we just got desperate!”
“You got it, Rumble!” One of the linemen called back, “Hey you slags, clear up some space for the captain and the receivers: we’re gettin’ stupid and desperate all over this field!”
“Fillies and gentlecolts, it looks like the final play of the Apple Buckers-Valiants championship game is about to get underway, and neither team looks like they’re willing to go home empty handed! And— wait, what’s this? From the looks of their formation, it seems like the Apple Buckers have forsaken all their catching capabilities and are going all in for one last-ditch running play! Oooh, can’t you just feel the tension in the air, folks? We’re about to witness a clash of the titans, the likes of which this announcer hasn’t seen in quite a while! Strap in, buckle up, hang on to your seats and don’t you blink, my little spectators, because the final play of the season is kicking off in ten… nine…”
While Rumble took his place behind the offense, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the emcee continued counting down the remaining seconds on the time-out clock. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to run his incredibly barebones, desperate plan over in his head. Step 1) Get the ball to Scootaloo. Step 2) Bust open a huge hole in the Valiants’ defense. Step 3) Hope to Celestia that Scootaloo can outrun an entire team with almost no one watching her back. Step 4) Profit. Game plans certainly didn’t get much simpler than that.
“…seven…”
Rumble looked off into the stands again. So many ponies he knew, so many he called friends. And then there was the one he had the displeasure of calling his ex. There, burying her head into her flavor-of-the-week’s chest, was Peppermint Twist. Sure, back in the day she wasn’t exactly winning any beauty contests, but she was as sweet as her name implied. The ashen colt thought back to all the good times they had together: helping her make delicious—albeit, misshapen—candy canes, her cheering him on while he practiced flying (and bandaging him up when he fell flat on his face), the first time they made love…
But all that changed the summer after freshman year. Rumble had gone off to a summer training camp in Cloudsdale while Twist stayed in Ponyville to work at her parent’s candy shop. Rumble came back to find that his fillyfriend had finally come out of her awkward phase and blossomed into a drop-dead, stone-cold gorgeous mare, with three colts all vying for her attention. She barely even noticed he was there and casually brushed him away, trotting off into the arms of a musclebound colt who shot a haughty sneer as they left Rumble to pick through the tattered remains of their relationship and figure out what just happened to him.
“…five…”
As Rumble ripped his mind out of his less-than-desirable past, his eyes trailed a bit lower to focus on the orange powerhouse that was Scootaloo. From this angle, he could almost see every twist and curve on her body, the headstrong pegasus foregoing thicker padding to give herself a little edge in speed. While she was a far cry from being called voluptuous, nopony could call her plain, either. All her muscles were well-toned and she had flexibility that could rival some professional gymnasts, giving her an athletic, nimble build. But something was off with those curves: namely, they were trembling ever so slightly. Rumble’s sight moved up to the face of his comrade, worried that her nerves might be getting the better of her.
As the colt looked upon his teammate, it quickly became clear nervousness had nothing to do with it. Scootaloo’s face was flushed intensely, which by itself wasn’t too odd. She had played hard and everybody was at least a little tired by now. But being tired doesn’t come with half-lidded eyes or a slight open-mouth smile. Rumble watched as the orange filly took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tensed all of her muscles to keep her trembling to a minimum.
‘Wait, I’ve seen that look before, but where…’ As the young colt wracked his brain to figure it out, the filly in question had let her gaze wander and found herself being watched. Scootaloo’s eyes shot wide open, the smile was replaced with lips pursed so tight they could crack a clam, the light blush on her cheeks had deepened to a bright red and it almost looked like steam was visibly wafting out of her helmet. She quickly looked away to something, anything, that wasn’t in Rumble’s direction. Now he was just confused.
‘What the heck was tha—’
“Rumble!” Coach Crab Apple shouted from the sideline. “Quit staring off into space and get your head in the game, we’ve got to win this thing!”
“…two…”
“Right, right.” Rumble smacked his helmet, and shook his head to refocus his thoughts: his relationship worries could wait until after this last play.
“…one! Let’s get it ooooooonnnn!”
“Down! Set! Hike!” Before the last word could even leave Rumble’s mouth, the player directly ahead of him had already snapped the ball into his waiting hooves. This was it. They were committed now and there was no turning back, as evidenced by the assaulting Valiants who had already clashed with the Apple Buckers’ defensive line. Despite the fast approaching storm of bloodthirsty beefcakes intent on crushing him like a grape under a steamroller, the gray colt kept a cool head and gave a silent prayer to Celestia that this ridiculous plan would work. In what would have seemed a foolhardy move to most, Rumble reared up on his hind legs and tossed the ball not to Scootaloo, but instead to the sky while he dashed forth to join his teammates in the fray.
“That angle! That throw! What is that quarterback doing? It’s almost like the Apple Buckers are trying to give the Valiants control of the ball, and if that’s their plan then by Celestia, it looks like it’s working so far!”
Rumble ignored the announcer as he smashed his way into the power-struggle and started grappling with a stallion much larger than himself. He knew that the ball would come down on the Valiants’ side of the field, right behind their offense to be exact. He also knew that he only had so much time before that exact scenario came to pass, so he had to work quickly, although that was easier said than done, seeing as his poorly-chosen opponent was built like a damn minotaur.
“Nice throw, dumb-ass,” his much larger adversary taunted mid-skirmish. “Whipping you Ponyville pussies was already easy enough, but I didn’t expect you to just punk out and literally throw the game away! What, you in a hurry to lose so you can go back to your locker room and try to set the Equestrian record for most dicks in an ass at one time? Or maybe most loads swallowed? Or maybe your coltfriend promised to finally give his ass up if you won?”
“Shut… the hell… up!” With a roar of annoyance, Rumble summoned all the power he could muster and managed to drive the oversized behemoth back a few steps. An impressive feat given the size difference, but hardly what Rumble could consider a victory as his rival dug his massive hooves into the ground, cementing his place in their little power struggle.
“Ha! It’s going to take more than some pretty boy faggot like you to take me down. I’ll bet you joined the team because you couldn't wait to tackle stallions and fondle their junk all day, didn’t you?”
Rumble could feel a piece of his tooth chip away, he’d grit his teeth so hard. He’d taken all the verbal abuse he could stand and he wasn’t about to stand for another of this guy’s absurdly homophobic insults. Just as the offending Valiant opened his mouth to loose another bout of beration, Rumble seized him by the helmet and ripped it down, planting the colt’s face in the dirt, successfully flooring him. He could almost hear Coach Crab Apple on the sideline muttering his approval. “There you go, son: if you ain’t cheatin’, you ain’t tryin’,” he’d say.
“Dear Celestia, did you see that savage takedown from number 32: Rumble Stormbreak? This is no longer a game, my little ponies, this has become a no-holds-barred, all-out war!”
“Scootaloo, go now!” Rumble barked, though his instructions proved remedial as an orange blur somersaulted through the tiny opening he’d created and caught the ball underneath a wing just as it came spiraling back down.
“Well, hatch a cocktrice egg on my head and call me mama! That absurd throw from the Apple Buckers was actually an elaborate pass, but hey, you’ve gotta be crazy like a nine-tailed fox to make a touchdown with less than a minute on the clock!”
Rumble watched proudly as Scootaloo hit the ground galloping. With every member of the Valiants too busy trying to fight off an equally tenacious Apple Bucker there was no one who could stop Scootaloo now, or so Rumble thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his fellow teammates fly through the air and land neck-first on the field while the now-unengaged Valiant took off after Scootaloo like a fruitbat out of Tartarus.
‘A team captain’s work is never done, is it?’ He thought as he gave chase to Scootaloo’s pursuer. This guy was much smaller than his previous adversary, so he wouldn’t be too much trouble to take down, but he was rapidly closing the distance on Scootaloo which meant that catching him was going to be a pain in itself. A pain, but far from an impossible task. Digging deep, he pumped his legs for all the speed he could muster with his remaining stamina.
His lungs and his legs were burning like crazy, but the pain and exhaustion was just a small price to pay to assure his team’s victory, and assure it he would; he was already within spitting distance of the slippery bastard. With a hop, skip and a jump, Rumble pounced forth, catching the pursuer around the waist just as he was about to snatch Scootaloo’s tail with his teeth.
“Gotcha!” Rumble shouted, struggling to drag the squirming stallion in his grasp to a halt.
“Get the hell off of me, asshole!” For Rumble’s troubles, the captured stallion generously imparted a wild kick to the ribs, but Rumble shook off the blow and held firm to his flailing capture.
“No way…. am I gonna… let you… lay a hoof on her!” Rumble declared and tightened his grip on the pursuer’s waist. With one final guttural roar, Rumble dug his hind hooves into the dirt and violently rocketed himself up and backwards, dragging his unwilling victim through a hellish one way ferris wheel before slamming his full body weight onto his neck and shoulder blades with a cringeworthy Crunch!
Groaning from the exertion, Rumble pushed away the now limp body of what was formerly the only hinderance to his plan’s success and turned his head just in time to watch Scootaloo dash across the goal line and slam the ball into the Valiants’ goal line.
“I… I… don’t believe my eyes… despite the odds and the ridiculous antics of that insane quarterback—”Rumble scoffed and rolled his eyes at the announcer’s backhanded remark, “—the Apple Buckers have somehow managed to score the gaaaaaaame-winning touchdown making the final score 27-26 in favor of the Ponyville Apple Buckers!”
Glancing over at his teammates who were busy celebrating their victory with displays of high hooves, chest bumps and headbutts, Rumble couldn’t help but smile. They’d finally done it. After Celestia knows how many skirmishes, scars and sprained ankles, the Apple Buckers’ long and difficult journey had finally delivered the team to the winner’s circle and by Luna was it the greatest feeling in the world. And right now, he was content to sluggishly pry off his helmet to feel the cool night air rushing against his face while he rested his fatigued muscles.
As he continued to bask in the glory and exhaustion, Rumble failed to notice that somepony had walked up to him. "So just out of curiosity, you having fun down there, bro?”
“Yeah, it’s a motherbucking party,” Rumble replied sarcastically.
“Ah, I see. So no plans to join your team in celebration?”
"I’d love to, but my legs are kinda shot after that last take down,” Rumble extended a hoof to his teammate, “Could you give me a hoof up, bro?."
“Ugh, if I must.” Pipsqueak smiled and extended a hoof to his immobilized comrade.
“Heh, can you believe it? We won,” Rumble chuckled as he was pulled up to stand.
“Yeah, we sure did,” Pipsqueak said, “Don’t know how we pulled it off, though. Thought you’d just about went off the deep end when you chucked the ball onto their side of the field, but I guess everything worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
“Yup, everything went according to plan.”
“‘According to plan’? Hardly. That was all luck, mate.”
“Tch, whatever, bro,” Rumble said with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “That was a raw display of my tactical genius and you know it.”
“Genius he calls it…” Pipsqueak shook his head and snorted. “Look, all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t confuse lunacy and recklessness for foresight and intelligence. Now, why don’t you stand back and watch a real mastermind at work.” Pipsqueak tilted his head back as though to tell Rumble to look over his shoulder without making it obvious.
“Diamond Tiara? Are you serious?”
Pipsqueak merely flashed a devious grin and nodded.
“Dude, come on, she’ll never give you the time of day.”
“Oh, she won’t, but I’m pretty sure Silver Spoon will.”
Rumble cocked an eyebrow as he waited for further elaboration.
“Just watch and learn, mate.”
Rumble looked on in amusement as he watched his friend confidently stroll over to engage in what he assumed to would be a failed flirting scheme that would end with Pipsqueak dragging the shattered remains of his self-confidence across the field. What he would actually play witness to was a feat of pick-up-wizardry the likes of which Equestria had never seen before.
“So, how are you doing this evening, love?” Pipsqueak started out simply enough, earning himself little more than a scoff of disdain from Diamond Tiara, but he wasn’t discouraged. “Enjoy the game?”
Rumble could almost hear the haughtiness dripping from Diamond Tiara’s voice as she scoffed at Pipsqueak’s attempt to break the ice. Any other colt would have taken the blatant display of disdain to heart and lost any hope of successfully bridging a line of dialogue with the pair, but Pipsqueak wasn’t any other colt. Just as all hope seemed lost, Pipsqueak did something that Rumble had never seen any of Diamond Tiara’s other suitors do before; he completely blew her off.
“Ah, sorry, but I was actually talking to… her.” Pipsqueak said dismissively to Diamond before turning his attentions to Silver Spoon. “Anyway, how about it Silver Spoon? Got anything planned this evening?”
For a moment, both girls were speechless. For as long as the pair had been joined at the hip, Silver Spoon had never seen anypony brush Diamond Tiara to the side in order to talk to her. Needless to say, being so unaccustomed to life outside of her friend’s shadow, it took Silver a moment to find her bearings. “Well, I… Diamond and I, we…”
“Excusez moi,” Diamond Tiara abruptly cut-in with an iciness, “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but Silver Spoon and I already have plans, so if you don’t mind—”
“And where might you two lovely ladies be headed tonight, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Why do you want to know?” Diamond asked.
“No reason, love, just curious.”
“Well if you must know, we made reservations at Café petalo di rosa—”
“What a strange coincidence.” Pipsqueak once again interrupted. “See, Silver and I also have reservations at this nice little restaurant on the edge of town, the name was… Café petalo di rosa. That’s the one. Ah, and I hate to cut this short, but Silver and I really need to be going or we’ll be late. You’re more than welcome to join us by the way, I mean if that’s alright with you, Silver Spoon.”
“S-Sure, I don’t mind.” Silver Spoon replied, reflexively brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “The more the merrier right?”
Diamond Tiara looked as though she’d just been struck very hard in the face with a trout and her expression only grew more bewildered as Pipsqueak proceeded to casually drape a foreleg over Silver Spoon’s neck, causing the metallic-maned mare’s cheeks to redden. “Are you coming, Ms. Tiara?” Pipsqueak asked as he proceeded to whisk Silver Spoon off the hoofball field.
“H-Hey! Don’t just walk away from me, get back here! Dammit, Silver Spoon, wait up!"
Rumble smiled and shook his head as he watched Diamond Tiara chase after Pipsqueak and a thoroughly-seduced Silver Spoon. If all went well, then it was only a matter of time before the normally untouchable Diamond Tiara who laughed in the face of lesser males, was reduced to an attention-starved egoist who would do just about anything for attention, which in turn would play right into Pipsqueak’s hooves. Simply genius.
Rumble turned to find his team’s star running back beside him, her lavender eyes focused on the odd trio. “What’s got Diamond’s panties in a bunch?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, just another one of Pipsqueak’s sinister plans to live out every guy’s fantasy.”
“Three-way with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon?” Scootaloo asked.
“Looks that way.”
“Nice.” The orange pegasus turned to her companion. “So… what’ve you got planned tonight?”
“Eh, not much,” Rumble said, “I’m just gonna take a shower, go home and sleep.”
“That’s it?” Scootaloo asked. “No epic party? No outlandish orgy? Just sleep? Lame.”
Rumble shrugged. “I just don’t have the energy: saving your flank took a lot out of me, you know.”
“Tch, whatever, even if you hadn’t done anything that jerk wouldn’t have caught up with me anyway. After all, I’m the fastest running back to ever set foot on a hoofball field, high school, college or otherwise.”
“If you say so, Scoots.” Rumble chuckled, “So what about you?”
“What about me what?”
“I told you my plans for the evening, so don’t you think it’s only fair that you tell me yours too?”
“Well, don’t laugh, but I’ve got this little…. ‘ritual’ I like to perform after every game, okay?”
“Ritual?” Rumble chuckled, “Like black magic and sacrifices and all that?”
“Dumbass,” Scootaloo said with a playful roll of her eyes. “It’s nothing like that. It’s more like a… good luck sort of deal. Like kissing a lucky medallion or whatever, nothing to write home about.”
“Okay… so what is it that you do exactly?”
“That is a secret.”
“C’mon, Scoots, if it’s not such a big deal then why won’t you tell me—”
“Uh, Rumble?”
“Yeah?”
In the interest of showing rather than telling the reason for interruption, Scootaloo pointed to a plastic wall placard depicting a pink pony with a feminine mane-style and body build. “This is the girls’ locker room.”
“Come on, don’t do that to me. I won’t be able to stop thinking about this now, at least give me a hint!”
“See you on Monday, Rumble,” Scootaloo giggled as she disappeared into the locker room.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Rumble grumbled, continuing down the hall to the males’ locker room. Pushing through the door, Rumble couldn’t help but gag and grimace at the pungent atmosphere that blasted him right in the nostrils. As always the locker room was unpleasantly warm and ripe with the sickly-sweet stink of sweat, body-odor and cheap spray-on deodorant, among other things.
Walking through, he was surprised to find the locker room was—save for a few stragglers—practically empty, which was pretty odd considering that throughout the season, the room had always been jam-packed after a game. With a shrug, he decided not to dwell on the thought, writing it off as the rest of the team getting a head start on their party preparations. It didn’t make any difference to him, their lack of hygienic discipline just meant that he wouldn’t have to wait for an open shower.
Rumble was still surprised to find that Pipsqueak was still hanging around despite the fact that he still had to meet up with Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara. “Sup.”
“You’re still here? I thought you were going out with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon,” Rumble said.
“Had to wash up. Can’t go out smelling like I’ve just enjoyed a hot buggering with a minotaur in a mud pit.”
“I still can’t believe that actually worked… I mean both of them. You’re something else man.”
“Eh, I’ve got Silver wrapped around my hoof, but Diamond Tiara is proving a bit too willful for my liking. Mark my words though, she will fall.”
“Oh believe me, I’m sure.”
“Think of me while you’re beating it into a blanket tonight, mate.”
“Who else would I be thinking about?”
“Oh, dammit…”
“Something the matter, Pip?”
“You uh… you wouldn’t happen to have any protection on you, would you, mate? Much as I’d love to have a go at Diamond and Silver raw… well you know what they call guys who use the pull out method, right?”
“Nope, enlighten me.”
“Fathers.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“Not that Equestria couldn’t benefit from having a few Pipsqueak Juniors running about, but still let’s not tempt it.”
“Yeah, I’ve got you. I always keep some spare condoms in my locker, just hold on a second.” Rumble grabbed the combination lock but found it hanging off to its side. “Huh, that’s weird, why’s my locker unlocked alrea…” Rumble’s words trailed off as he looked inside his locker and found that despite wearing the gear that normally occupied the storage space, it was far from empty. At present, its contents were composed of a camera with a rather large flash bulb and the familiar red and green of a Ponyville High cheerleading uniform snugly wrapped around the wiry frame of a very familiar colt.“What the f—”
“Shh! Here.” The locker dweller tossed Rumble a small black box with white lettering that spelled out ‘Trojan Whorse’. “We’ll talk when we’re alone.”
“Something wrong, Rumble?” Pipsqueak asked
“Umm… no. Everything’s fine. Here, found them. They’re my last two, make them count.” Rumble tossed the box of condoms to a thoroughly appreciative Pipsqueak.
“Thanks, mate, you’re a lifesaver.”
“No problem,” Rumble distantly mumbled, his mind still on the oddity hiding in his locker.
“Well, I’m off then. See you Monday, Rumble.”
“Yeah, peace, man.” Rumble watched Pipsqueak exit the locker room before giving his full attention to his locker and its very unwelcome occupant. “Okay, Featherweight, what the hell?” he asked swinging the door open, “This is the fourth time you’ve done this. Why were you in my locker and… and why are you dressed like that!?”
“Dressed like what?” Featherweight looked down at the uniform he’d evidently forgotten he was wearing and his beige cheeks pinkened. “Oh, right, that… hey, let’s not make this about me, all right? I came here to tell you about something I found—”
“How the hay can we not make this about you? You’re dressed like a cheerleader, dude! Where did you even get one of those outfits? Wait, did you steal that?”
“No, I didn’t steal it, I… I got it from Sweetie Belle, all right? Now can we please—”
“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why you’re wearing it,” said Rumble.
Featherweight averted his eyes and coughed uncomfortably. “I’m, uh, not at liberty nor am I willing to discuss that. Now can you please just drop it and listen to me? You’re really going to want to hear what I discovered.”
“Fine, fine. You’re off the hook… for now. Now what’s so important that you had to break into my locker wearing… that.”
“Hmmm… actually, now that I think about it, it’d be better if I showed you. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Well, what are you waiting for then? Let’s hurry this along so I can jump in the shower and go home already.”
Featherweight shook his head. “No, take your shower now. If she’s consistent then we’re going to have a bit of a wait on our hooves.”
Rumble could feel his jaw clench out of frustration. “If who’s consistent? What are we going to be waiting for? What does this have to do with me?” he bellowed, annoyance and agitation dripping off his every inquiry.
“You’ll get all your answers in due time. Now you’re going to want to hurry up, we’ve got about… twenty minutes before show time.”
Fed up with the distinct lack of direct answers, Rumble tossed his dirty jersey in, snatched out his towel and slammed the locker door in Featherweight’s face, grumbling as he trudged along to the communal showers. Thankfully the shower room was completely empty which meant that not only did Rumble not have to deal with the obnoxious fraternal antics of his teammates that bathtime typically entailed, but he’d actually get to bathe with hot water for a change.
Commandeering the closest shower, Rumble breathed a sigh of content as a soothing stream of hot water ran down his head, neck and back, rejuvenating and relaxing him as it cleansed his coat and melted his tension away. And yet, even though the gentle cascade brought great relief to his tense and worn out body, it could do little to lessen the onslaught of thoughts plaguing his mind.
Twist. Rumble’s stomach knotted as he recalled the face of the first and only mare he’d ever entrusted his heart to. Why did she have to be in the stands tonight? Why did he have to notice her? And why… why did it still hurt? He thought he was past this. The depression. The loneliness. The heart-ache. Despite the fact that it had been two years since that fateful summer, he still dwelled on it, unable to get over her. Sure, he could try to drown his misery by rutting every mare in sight, but that wasn’t solving the problem, it was just running away from it.
He knew that what he needed was to move on and he wanted more than anything to do exactly that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone like that again. Celestia knows he’d tried to, several times in fact, but the fear of having his feelings betrayed again held him back every time. Not that his fears were completely unfounded.
Judging by the vicious rumors of cheating and rampant promiscuity that flew through the halls of his school like angered hornets it was safe to conclude that the girls around here weren’t exactly bastions of morality. Well, most of them anyway. There were a few good eggs in his high school’s basket like… like Sweetie Belle. She seemed sweet enough, though that was a shallow observation as they never really spoke to one another past a friendly hello on the way to class or practice. There was Apple Bloom and she… well, there was that one girl in alchemy class who…
It was at this moment as the water made the shift from piping hot to lukewarm that Rumble stumbled upon the unnerving realization that he really didn’t know any of the girls in his school. He’d certainly hooked up with a few of them but casual sex with a cute filly was a far cry from actually being friends, and to the best of his knowledge he didn’t have any close friends who were girls…
Scootaloo.
She was a girl, wasn’t she? Rumble rolled his eyes at himself. Of course he knew that she was a girl, he wasn’t blind, but just going off the rapport that they shared on and off the field it was clear that he didn’t see her as just another nameless member of the opposite sex. He could actually care about what she had to say, could hang out with her after school and he didn’t have to hold anything back with her when it came to tackle drills because he knew she could take the beating. If anything she was more of a dude to him than most guys he knew. But, by the same token, he couldn’t deny that he’d cast a wayward glance her way every now and again, or thought about what it would be like to get a little more involved with her…
Rumble quickly shut the shower off and shook the water out of his mane. This was getting too weird. After all, this was Scootaloo he was talking about here. His teammate. His friend. His lady-bro, if he so dared. Thinking about her in any other way was taboo as far as he was concerned, and he was certain that she probably felt the same way about him.
With a snort, he snatched up his towel and hastily dried himself off before returning to the locker room where he caught his favorite crossdresser in the act of breaking into the locker directly adjacent from his own. “Took you long enough,” Featherweight said just as he popped the combination lock open and tossed it to the side.
“Should I even ask what you’re doing?” Rumble asked as Featherweight began dumping out the locker’s contents and moving them into the neighboring locker. “And, seriously, why do you know how to break into every locker in here?”
“To answer your first question, I’m securing us a proper hiding place, or rather a vantage point. As for the second, let’s just say an investigative reporter has his reasons.”
“Right, so I’ll make sure that everyone changes their locks on Monday… and why are we hiding again?”
“Anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?”
“Well, maybe if you’d answer them…” Rumble grumbled.
“All right, there we go. It’ll be a bit cramped, but we should both be able to fit in here no problem.”
Rumble glanced into the tiny storage space and rose an eyebrow. “You’re not serious, right?”
“After you,” Featherweight insisted with gesture of his hoof.
With a sigh Rumble climbed into the locker where he was forced to stand upright on his hind legs. “This had better be good, man.”
“Don’t worry, it will be. Now hold this for a second, I don’t want to scratch the lens.” Handing his camera to Rumble, Featherweight forced himself into the already incredibly cramped locker and shut the the door, thus trapping them between the cold metal walls with only three small slits to breathe and see out of.
A moment or four passed the sardine packed pair by in silence before Rumble decided to speak. “Say, Featherweight?”
“Yeah?”
“Not that I don’t enjoy the feeling of your bony ass rubbing against my crotch, but how much longer are we going to have to wait like this?”
“She should be here any minute now, just be patient.”
“Dry humping a crossdresser in a tiny locker,” Rumble groaned, “I can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday…”
“Shh! Shut up! Listen!” Featherweight hissed. “Hear that? Someone’s coming, it’s gotta be her.”
Rumble piqued his ears up and sure enough he could hear the distinct sound of distant hoofsteps drawing closer to their hiding place, but there was something off about the steps. They seemed somehow hesitant, awkward, cautious. As if the individual skulking about had no idea that the locker room technically never closed and that they technically weren’t intruding. Curious, Rumble squinted through one of the angled slits in the door, but just as he got a good angle, the lights in the locker room began to dim.
“Great, as if it wasn’t hard enough to see already,” Rumbled muttered. The change in lighting hadn’t made the room terribly dark, or even dark at all for that matter. At best it had adjusted the mood in the room. He could still clearly make out the shapes of the adjacent lockers, benches and now as they approached, the distinct orange coat and complimenting purple mane of the trespassing party. “Wait a minute, is that… Scootaloo?”
“You guessed it,” Featherweight replied.
“What’s she doing in here?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Needless to say, Rumble’s mind was teeming with questions. Why would Scootaloo sneak into the male changing room? Did this have something to do with that ‘good luck ritual’ she was talking about earlier? And why was she blushing so hard? Even with the dimmed lighting he could see that her face was practically glowing as she approached his locker. Scootaloo nervously glanced to her left and right as she dropped her saddle bags and took the combination lock in her hooves. Manipulating the dial with a series of concise rotations, it wasn’t long before Rumble heard the familiar Cla-chick! of the lock being released and tossed to the side.
“Oh, come on, is there anyone who doesn’t know my locker combination?” Rumble sighed to which he received a sympathetic pat on the thigh from Featherweight. The locker bound pair watched with bated breath as Scootaloo rummaged through Rumble’s locker only to emerge with what appeared to be a candy bar.
“So that’s why I keep running out of protein bars. This whole time I thought it was Shady Daze being a greedy ass. Guess I owe him an apology… wait, is this what you brought me here to see? I mean, thanks for clearing that up, but I hardly think it was worth the trouble, man.”
“That’s not what I wanted to show you, idiot,” Featherweight snapped, “Just watch.”
After devouring the protein bar in what could only be described as an alligatorish fashion—the whole thing gone in less than two bites—Scootaloo dove back into Rumble’s locker and fished out a rather familiar garment that he recognized as his sweaty, grass-stained game jersey. “Hey, what’s she doing with my dirty uniform?”
“Wait for it…” said Featherweight.
Scootaloo sat down on the bench and clutched the pilfered article of clothing to her chest. With one last guilty glance around to ensure that she was absolutely alone, she brought the soiled jersey to her nostrils and breathed in deeply, shivering and squirming her thighs together in delight as Rumble’s scent pervaded her nostrils. From his hiding place, Rumble could hear an almost erotic moan escape her as she exhaled and took another deep breath of his essence.
“What the…”
“Hold on, it gets better,” Featherweight said.
By her third lungful, it seemed that Scootaloo could no longer control the rampant quivering and quaking that had begun to afflict her entire body. Using one hoof to keep the jersey up, she began caressing her inner-thighs with the other, teasing herself by drawing. “I… I shouldn’t be doing this…” she whimpered, but the words did little to dissuade her from spreading her legs and guiding her hoof towards her quivering marehood.
“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t… but it’s the only way I’ll be able to control myself around him… ♥~ah~♥” The reflexive yelp escaped Scootaloo as she made contact with her delicate sex, but she kept going, slowly but mindfully maneuvering her hooves in small circles on her exposed clit. Her muffled pants and gasps continually grew lewder and a louder with each pass, all the while indulging herself with hit after hit from the stink of Rumble’s uniform.
Rumble opened his mouth but found that he had no words for the scene unfolding before him. It was like he was living out a crazy dream and considering that he was watching one of his best friends get off on his dirty laundry from the cramped safety of a locker that he was sharing with a crossdressing photographer, it may as well have been a dream. But Rumble knew better than that. He knew this was real. He knew that this was in fact happening right in front of his eyes and that this was going to change everything between himself and Scootaloo.
He wasn’t ready for that. Maybe one day he would be, but right now it was a little too much to take in. All he wanted right now was to go home, lay down and go to sleep so he could process this strange development in the morning. Well, that was Rumble’s plan anyway.
Fate on the other hand, had an entirely different scheme for Rumble’s evening altogether and thus sent forth an agent in the form of an especially vigorous erection. On its own, the random rager could have been considered a natural reaction to the sight of a female in the throes of self-induced passion, and could have been ultimately ignored or handled in a manner of speaking. However, given the existence of a certain variable in this voyeuristic venture, Featherweight, whose backside was buried so deep into Rumble’s crotch that they may as well have been conjoined, the involuntary arousal was more akin to a falling domino that would set off a chain of incredibly mortifying events.
“Whoa! Excited much back there?” Featherweight hissed as the pulsing protuberance jabbed itself just under his tail.
“F-Fuck you, man, this is your fault in first place for making both of us hide in here, so just deal with it,” Rumble fired back in a harsh whisper.
In an attempt to shift the position of his locker-mate’s cock from between his legs and to the side, Featherweight began to wiggle his hips. “It’d be… ngh… easier to just deal with, if wasn’t poking me in my— ahh!”
A sudden and unfortunately placed twitch from Rumble’s swollen member made Featherweight jump and clutch his camera, which in turn set another incredibly unfortunate event in motion, for there was another factor: the older model camera with its larger than normal flashbulb. Featherweight had specially ordered the bulb for its ability to light up large open areas at night with the clarity and luminescence of the sun. That said, when the flash went off in the enclosed space with the brilliance and suddenness of a lightning strike, both occupants were blinded instantly.
“Agh! Dammit, my eyes!” Rumble cried as light burned his retinas. In his blinded panic, Rumble flailed his forelegs about helplessly and, in his frenzy, struck the latch of the locker, sending himself and Featherweight spilling out of their hiding place where he hit his head on the cold locker room floor.
With eyes clenched shut from the combination of fading blindness and the pain in his temple, Rumble pulled himself to a sit, and shook his head to regain his bearings. His vision was still cloudy as he opened his eyes, but even without perfect clarity he could tell what was directly in front of him and his fears were only confirmed once the world around him came into focus.
Scootaloo.
Evidently it hadn’t taken her long to make the adjustment from spread eagle and loving it to crosslegged and virginal, but the look in her wide magenta eyes was one of sheer and total mortification. If he had to put her expression into words it was like a combination of forgetting one's lines during a play and being caught masturbating for the first time by a parent… which in a literal sense described the encounter perfectly.
For what seemed a small eternity, neither of them spoke, just stared at one another in shock and shame respectively. The silence was beyond stifling, but what could they have said to each other that wasn’t already mutually understood and on the table? What could Rumble have asked her that he didn’t already know about the situation? What could Scootaloo possibly have said in her defense?
It was in the midst of this of crippling taciturnity that a certain third wheel decided to clear his throat, breaking and redirecting the pair’s attention to himself. “Umm… yeah… I realize that this probably a little awkward for you two, so I’m just gonna let you… yeah, goodbye.” With that, Featherweight turned and beat a hasty retreat, leaving the pair to figure out where they stood on their own.
Rumble returned his gaze to Scootaloo who’d taken to burying her face in her hooves. He could see that tears had begun to well up in her eyes but who could blame her? After what seemed like an forever and a day, Scootaloo finally broke the awkward silence between them. “I… I think I should just go.”
“Scootaloo, wait,” Rumble said and the distraught mare stopped where she stood. “Don’t go. We should… hell, we need to talk about this.”
No response. Scootaloo just kept her back to Rumble as though she were waiting for him to continue. Nonverbal as her standing unresponsive was, it was still communication and progress as far as Rumble was concerned.
“Look, I don’t care about ‘what’ I saw, all right? All I want to know is why I saw it. Don’t you think I deserve at least that much? I promise that I’m not upset or anything, maybe a little shocked, but I really feel like we should discuss this. So, please, don’t go.” Rumble moved to the bench and gestured to an open space by his side. “Just sit down so we can talk about this.”
Scootaloo hesitated a moment before finally turning around to meet Rumble’s sincere eyes with her own browbeaten gaze. Breathing out a sigh of defeat, she joined Rumble on the bench where she’d been pleasuring herself up until just a few moments ago.
Rumble rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he wracked his brain for an appropriate icebreaker to this incredibly awkward issue. “So, I guess my first question is how long have you been… well, you know… doing this?”
Scootaloo chewed her lower lip and nervously twiddled her hooves before finding the courage to speak. “Since the middle of the season,” she said softly.
“Geez, and this whole time I never noticed. Makes me wonder how long Featherweight’s known about it.”
Scootaloo’s face reddened.“Oh, that’s right, he was watching too, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s the one who told me about your, uh, little ritual. Actually, he didn’t say anything, cryptic little crossdressing prick wouldn’t tell me anything but to wait and find out…” As Rumble finished bemoaning, he noticed a seed of worry in Scootaloo’s eyes and decided to crush it before it could blossom. “Hey, don’t worry about Featherweight saying anything. He might have a bad habit of snooping around and digging up dirt on everyone in school, but he’ll keep his mouth shut. He’s not the type to spread rumors or publicly humiliate anyone unless they’re really asking for it, like that time he exposed the chemistry teacher for dealing synthetic salts to the burnouts.”
“Remind me not to get on his bad side,” Scootaloo mumbled.
“Yeah, tell me about it… hey that reminds me, how’d you know how to get into my locker?”
“You wrote your combination on the back of the lock. Don’t feel too bad. I checked it out and everyone else in here did the exact same thing.”
“Huh, that fucking figures…” Rumble let the silence hang before he addressed the elephant in the room. “I guess the only other question I have is ‘why’? Why go all that trouble?”
Scootaloo rose an eyebrow. “You really haven’t figured that out? I thought that’d be pretty obvious.”
Rumble shrugged. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, but I want to hear it from you first.”
Scootaloo turned away from Rumble and heaved out a heavy sigh as she prepared to spill her guts. “Everything I did… I did it because I really like you, okay? Have for a long time now, I think I realized it around the time that Twist left you, but I just never acted on it. We’d grown so close after joining the hoofball team together, and I didn’t want to make things weird between us.” Scootaloo breathed a sardonic chuckled under her breath before remarking, “And here we are anyway…”
“Scootaloo, that… I mean why—”
“Why didn’t I say anything?” Scootaloo quickly finished for him. “Because after you and Twist broke up, I was afraid that if I confessed you’d think I was just taking advantage of you and reject me. So I just settled for being your friend, but as time went on, that wasn’t enough for me. Rumble, I wanted to be with you but I didn’t want to end up like all those rebound girls over the past year. So I… I started…”
“Fantasizing about me?” Rumble said bluntly.
“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it all to go this far. It was harmless at first, y’know? I’d just think about you and whisper your name while I touched myself, but one day after you tackled and took me down in practice, I just sort of sniffed you and, by Celestia, the smell set me off even harder than just thinking about you ever had. I just couldn’t satisfy myself the same way anymore, so one day I snuck in when the locker room was empty, found your locker wasn’t locked and… well, I guess you can figure out the rest from there.”
Rumble massaged his temple as he tried to take in Scootaloo’s confession. “So let me get this straight,” he finally said. “For the past two months you’ve been breaking into my locker, eating my protein bars and using my dirty game jerseys to get off, all because you couldn’t tell me that you liked me?”
“You know, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound quite as endearing or heartfelt.”
Rumble shook his head. “Fuck this is weird… I mean, there’s no way that we can go back to being just friends and teammates after this.”
“And that’s why I didn’t want you to find out. I knew this would change everything, that’s why I was so careful… anyway, don’t worry about it too much. I’m going to quit the team and change all my classes on Monday.”
Rumble cocked an eyebrow at the melancholic mare. “Quit the team? Why would you do that? We’re going to need our star running back for the spring season you know. And on top of that, who would you cheat off of in history class?”
“Huh? Wait, I don’t understand, aren’t you mad?” Scootaloo asked.
“Hey, I said that there was no way we could go back to being just friends, I didn’t say that I don’t want you in my life. Just because things have to change doesn’t mean that they have to change for the worse.”
“Rumble, what are you…”
“Don’t get me wrong, that was probably the creepiest love confession I’ve ever gotten…” Rumble stopped and thought about it. “Actually that was the only love confession I’ve ever gotten, but it was still pretty damn weird. More than that though, it was sincere and kinda cute in stalkery sort of way, and I could really use a little sincerity in my life right now. That is if you’re still interested, of course,” he said, extending his hoof to Scootaloo.
“Of… of course I’m still interested,” said Scootaloo who reciprocated the gesture in kind. “So, does this mean we’re..?”
“Seems that way to me,” Rumble whispered as he wrapped a wing around his new filly-friend.
“Well, that’s kind of cool I guess.” Scootaloo grinned like a filly with a new ribbon as she nuzzled her muzzle into her colt-friend’s chest, taking care to savor the masculine scent of the colt with each breath she drew.
“You guess? Somehow I thought you’d be more excited.”
“Are you kidding me? The best, not mention sexiest, high school runningback in all of Equestria confesses her feelings to you, and I’m the one who should be excited? I think not.”
“Glad to see that you’re just as modest as ever.” He joked, savoring the warmth of his lady’s body against his. “You know, we did just win the high school championship an hour ago. I didn’t have any plans to before, but I think we should go somewhere and celebrate, just the two of us.”
“Mmm… but do we have to go out?” Rumble could feel Scootaloo’s lips pull into a pout as she asked the question. “I mean, we do have this whole locker room to ourselves, I could think of a few ways for us to celebrate, right here.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm…” Scootaloo hummed as she drew in another lungful of her lover’s musk.
“Like what?” Rumble asked with a curious yet knowing smile.
“Well, you did interrupt me while I was about to, ah, finish earlier, so maybe…” Grinning, Scootaloo began to trail a hoof down Rumble’s firm belly…
“…if you’re up for it…”
…to his hips….
“…we could…”
…before finally arriving at his inner thighs.
“…work together to rectify that.” she finished, massaging circles into the tender flesh of legs.
“Scootaloo, much as I’d love to, don’t you think it’s a little sudden? I mean we just got together and we’ve never even kiss— mmf!” Rumble found himself cut off as a particularly enthusiastic Scootaloo greedily stole his mouth with her own luscious lips mid sentence.
“There,” Scootaloo breathed the word on her colt friend’s lips as she broke the kiss. “Anything else?” Scootaloo whispered into Rumble’s ear, before giving it a gentle nip.
“Geez, you work even faster than I do,” he chuckled.
“Let’s just say that I’m just trying to make up for lost time,” she purred as she brought her lips to the quite enticed Rumble’s neck. “Now, I thought that I asked you if there was anything else?” As though to drive her point home, Scootaloo boldly moved her hoof from Rumble’s thigh to grip his slowly stiffening cock.
Rumble winced, but kept his composure as his marefriend began to stroke him off. “Oh, I think you know what I want…”
“Oh? Do I?” Scootaloo’s oblivious words were betrayed by the soft pillow-talk tone of her voice and her half-lidded bedroom eyes. A true pervert if Rumble had ever seen one; he wouldn’t have to hold back with her.
“…and I know you want to do it for me more than anything.”
“Mmmm… maybe… but just for good measure…” Scootaloo’s lips curled into a sultry grin. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want, give me details”
Rumble leaned into Scootaloo’s ear and whispered simply, “I want you to use your mouth, on it.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Yeah… I want you to wrap your pretty little lips around it so I can watch you suck off the cock that you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.”
“Keep going,” Scootaloo encouraged. all the while kissing and sniffing the flesh of his neck.
“Get that dick nice and wet so it just sliiides right in and fills your pretty little pussy up to the brim, right before I fuck you until you can’t walk straight. That’s what you want, right?”
“Mhmm~♥” Scootaloo bit her lower lip and nodded.
“Good, because that’s exactly what you’re going to get. Now, why don’t you get to it?”
“You got it, Captain.” With that, Scootaloo slid off the bench and took a seated position in front of Rumble, who spread his legs presenting his swollen cock to the flush-faced filly. Scootaloo didn’t hesitate to take hold of her new lover’s member with both hooves, and felt it twitch in her grasp. Bringing herself closer, she took a good long whiff of her partner’s burden, shuddering with anticipation as Rumble’s lewd genital musk wafted through her nostrils. She’d waited entirely too long for this.
Rumble watched as Scootaloo’s tongue slid out and slowly traced her lovely lips, making them glisten with a fine layer of saliva as she met the rigid thing with an open mouth, enveloping it in an oral embrace so perfect that she felt his hot cock twitch on her tongue. Wrapping her lips around the circumference, she urged herself forward, taking inch after inch of him into her mouth before she had to back off as it had jabbed her in the throat, but Scootaloo continued. She went slowly at first, bobbing her head back and forth in a steady rhythm, coaxing out soft moans of pleasure from her lover. Satisfied with her progress, she began to incorporate her tongue, mindfully massaging it along his sensitive underside in such a way that she could see his knees start to quake and quiver from the corner of her eye.
Rumble on the other side of the spectrum was in heaven. He’d gotten head from quite a few girls over the course of the last year, and while a few of them had the technique and talent to make his knees quiver, none of them had ever possessed the enthusiasm that Scootaloo brought to the table. The difference between this mare and the others was night and day; while those others merely gave head out of necessity, Scootaloo was dedicated to absolutely pleasing her man and it showed. Each bob of her head, every caress of her angelic tongue, every movement was even better and more fervent than the last, and the rush.
“Sh-shit, I’m getting close…” Rumble grabbed Scootaloo by the temples and stood up, bucking his hips forth into her eager mouth and throat, effectively fucking her face. It was a bit difficult for her at first, but looking up and finding her coltfriend’s flushed face screwed up in a helpless, almost effeminate expression made the task all the more bearable. And yet, as caught up as she was in his delightful reactions she was quick to break her concentration upon hearing him grunt, “I think I’m gonna… I think I’m gonna cum!”
It was as Rumble threw himself forward for one final tension-relieving thrust that he found his hooves swatted from their resting place on Scootaloo’s head and his cock suddenly cold and barren as Scootaloo shoved him back onto the bench, successfully denying him his much desired ejaculation. Understandably, the orgasm-deprived colt was beyond frustrated. “What the hell, Scoots!? I was so close!”
“Were you? That’s funny, because I was pretty close myself before you and Featherweight decided to come crashing out of that locker earlier.”
Rumble frowned. “Hey, that… that ‘s not fair. That was an accident. I had every intention of watching you finish.”
“Besides, why’re you in such a hurry to finish? We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Scootaloo stood up and trotted towards a wall of lockers. Leaning forward, she placed her forehooves on the cold metal of the wall and arched her back, giving Rumble a perfect view of her taut and toned backside.
“Good point,” Rumble said, while absent-mindedly giving pursuit to the delightfully delicious derriere on display before him. As he approached his filly-friend’s heavenly hindquarters, his first inclination was to kiss and caress her beautiful backside, earning some playful giggles for his attentiveness, but as he reared up to mount her, he found his advances halted by Scootaloo’s hoof.
“Ah, aren’t you forgetting something? I’ll give you a little hint: it’s protection.”
“Right, good call.” Rumble had only just started back to his own locker when he realized something was off. “Ah, fuck! I gave my last two condoms to Pipsqueak.”
“Hmm… don’t worry about it,” Scootaloo replied.
“You mean… you mean you wanna do it raw? Fuck, you’re awesome, come here…” Rumble reared up behind Scootaloo and instinctively hugged her around the waist as he prepared to mount her.
“No, you dummy,” Scootaloo giggled as she pushed Rumble back down and reached into her saddlebags, and fished out a golden foil package. “Here.”
“Oh. You had one yourself…that’s cool too… better safe than sorry I guess.”
“Aww, what’s wrong? You sound disappointed.”
“Eh, a little… but, wait, where’d you get the condom from?”
An hour and some minutes earlier
“Scootaloo, I’m proud of you, son,” Coach Crab Apple said as he nonchalantly reached into his mane and pulled out a large foil wrapped condom which he tossed into a very confused Scootaloo’s hooves.
“Uh… coach? You… you know I’m a girl, right?”
“Not tonight you’re not, stud. Now get over there, grab one of those little soft-skinned sluts from the cheerleading squad and get your dick wet, boy. Coach’s orders.”
“Oh, o-okay then… but how am I supposed to you know, use it without a…” Scootaloo’s words trailed off as she looked up to find Coach Crab Apple staring off into the sky with a single tear streaking its way down his cheek.
“Celestia above, I love this fuckin’ game,” Crab Apple said to no one in particular.
“You know what, nevermind, coach, I’ll figure something out.”
The Present
“Anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?” Scootaloo ostracised.
“Actually yes…” Rumble grumbled as he recalled an earlier exchange with Featherweight.
“Anyway, why don’t you hurry up and get that on so we can get started, or are you just going to stand there and gawk all night?”
“I’m gonna put it in now, all right?”
“Yeah… do it quickly…” Scootaloo bit her lower lip in anticipatory delight as Rumble reared up behind her. Upon feeling the heat of Rumble’s throbbing cock rub against her slickened pussy lips, she gripped the wall even harder and eased herself back as Rumble urged his hips forward. Scootaloo grit her teeth and whimpered as she felt Rumble’ thickness penetrate her,
“You all right?”
“Mmhmm…” Scootaloo nodded, wincing with each involuntary clench her tiny pussy imparted on the invading love muscle.
“That’s good. But, fuck you’re so tight… I’m going to have to the work the rest in a little bit at a time.”
Scootaloo’s eyes widened at that. “Wait, there’s more?”
“Yeah, I’m just about half way.”
“Th-That’s only half?” She felt so full already. At best she could probably manage another inch or two, but a whole nother half? She wasn’t so sure she could take it, but before she voice a single objection, Rumble grabbed her by the shoulders and steadied himself into a proper mount.
“Yeah, just hold on, I’m going to move now.” To Scootaloo’s relief, Rumble drew his hips back slightly, offering her stuffed pussy a moment of reprieve. But before she knew it, he was back, cramming every inch of her insides with his massive dick.
“Oh, fuck!” she yelped as he physically pulled her back for another thrust, that sent him even deeper into her depths. She wasn’t sure how much of him she could actually take but some part of her was curious to find out and find out she would. By the time Rumble had finished plunging her Scootaloo was sure that her pussy would absolutely burst if it took any more abuse. “F-f-fuck you’re huge,” she panted.
Finding her expression cute, Rumble leaned forward and imparted a kiss on her forehead before whispering into her ear, “You think that’s something, just wait till we really get started.”
“H-huh?” Hazily, Scootaloo turned her head to look at her“W-what do you—♥~nya~♥!” With one powerful, surprising thrust, Rumble had Scootaloo practically standing on her tip-hooves to keep her balance and with a mighty second she found herself pushing away from the wall out of fear that she would smack it full on with her face.
With each relentless, powerful thrust from Rumble that Scootaloo took, the pleasure pains seemed to grow more bearable, as though her pussy was reforming itself to better accommodate the relentless ramming he was putting it through. She hadn’t expected him to be quite as big or aggressive as he was and yet here he was putting her toy-trained taint through its paces.
From Rumble’s standpoint, all he could remark upon was the contrast between Scootaloo’s mouth and her pussy. Her mouth was amazing by the sheer novelty of the face fucking she’d allowed him to indulge himself in earlier, but Scootaloo’s pussy was a whole other beast altogether. Even through the condom, Rumble could feel the slimy heat of Scootaloo’s pussy pulsing and convulsing all around his twitching girth and she was so tight that each time he threw himself forward, it felt like her vaginal walls were trying to chew his dick.
At the pace he was rutting at, it wasn’t long before Rumble had fucked Scootaloo to the point of a climax so intense that she lost her grip on the lockers and wound up on the floor, where, as she quickly found out, Rumble could be twice as effective and go even harder from his already domineering position. However the increased potential in thrusting would only serve to open up a whole new can of worms as Rumble felt the unmistakable albeit soundless ‘pop’ of a condom snapping around his cock.
“Sh-shit,I think the condom broke…” Rumble gasped, struggling to resist the urge to buck his hips forth as his raw cock rubbed against Scootaloo’s sopping wet inner walls.
And yet, where he’d been expecting to hear a plea to stop and pull out, he was instead treated to an debased whinnies of Scootaloo as she cried out “♥~F-Fuck it, keep going~♥!”
Rumble didn’t need to be told twice. Ripping the now busted condom ring from his cock, he proceeded to raw-dog rut his marefriend senseless on the locker room floor, pausing every so often to appreciate how her butt wiggled and bounced with each connection. However, as fantastic as the sensation of Scootaloo’s raw pussy felt, the increased stimulation it gave came at the cost of his ability to hold off his climax for much longer. “Scootaloo,” he grunted through the pleasure, “I… I can’t hold it back… I’m gonna cum!”
“N-Not inside!” Scootaloo shouted. “I’ll let you cum in my mouth, just don’t cum!”
Rumble only a few pumps away from his pending climax, was quick to ease himself off of Scootaloo who quickly stumbled forth to make good on her promise, quickly enveloping her lover’s length as he gave one frantic thrust after the other before he was welcomed by the sweet embrace of a release into Scootaloo’s throat, so great that he simultaneously lost his balance and his sight for a second time this evening, albeit in a much more desirable manner.
A moment later when Rumble regained his sight and his senses, he was welcomed by the sight of Scootaloo who had buried her muzzle into his chest and was steady winding herself down indulging herself in. “So, was that as good as you’d always imagined it would be or did I come up short of your expectations?”
“Well, fantasies are nice, but nothing beats the real deal… although the real deal could stand to be a little gentler with me next time… I’m just saying.”
“Gentler? Please. That was just a warm up,” Tilting Scootaloo’s chin up, Rumble leaned forward and kissed his new marefriend firmly on the mouth before continuing. “Next time, I’m going to take it to you like we’re doing take down drills: hard, fast, furious and I won’t plan on stopping until you can’t walk right.”
With a roll of her eyes, Scootaloo pulled herself off of Rumble and started towards the opposite end of the locker room. “Well, aren’t you coming?” She called behind herself as she left.
“Depends, where are you going?”
“The showers, Sugarcube Corner for a quick bite to eat, and um, your place for some extra ‘practice’.... if that’s alright with you of course…”
Rumble couldn’t help but smile as he pulled himself up and joined his newfound lover on as they walked, tail in tail, to the musky showers where the only thing that awaited them was some amorous antics and what was sure to be a short-lived stint in a hot-waterless hell.
The End
Author's Note
There were reasons for several things in this story that aren't very well explained, and that's because I ran out of time to write, and screw you if you say that I had the time because I didn't. I'll see you in 62 days unless I suck in which case I'll see you in a week.
