The Lemonade Stand

“So, you understand the rules, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, and remember: no lying and no snitching.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Alright, tell me when someone comes.” With that, Featherweight disappeared from view, settling himself in the space between Pipsqueak’s rear legs and the wall of their impromptu lemonade stand.

“Right.”

An uncomfortable amount of time passed before anypony started to take notice, and even then no one bothered to actually pay the two a visit. It was only when Featherweight began to grow increasingly impatient did they get their first customer.

“Ooh, lemonade. I love a good cup of lemonade on a day like this!” A squirrely ball of pink skidded to a halt in front of their stand, bouncing excitedly on its hooves like a foal in line to receive a treat for good behavior.

“Oh, hey, Pinkie Pie.” Pipsqueak greeted the fidgeting mass of seemingly endless energy, at the same time giving his cohort under the table the go-ahead with the tap of a rear leg. “Would you like a cup of Lemonade?”

“Sure, I’d love some!”

“That’ll be-” Pipsqueak grunted as his friend’s hooves began to gently massage his sheathe. “-One bit, please.”

Pinkie Pie didn’t seem to notice the odd pause or the intense concentration on the pinto colt’s face as he poured her; her cup of lemonade and she in turn slid him a bit.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Pinkie Pie chirped before skipping away down the street. Once Pipsqueak was sure she was out of earshot, he let out a heavy breath and peered under the table at Featherweight who was grinning up at him devilishly.

“You’re lucky she left so quick. I woulda had you beat easy.”

“That means I win, yeah?”

“Heck, no. That was way too easy.”

“You said all I had to do was have a conversation with somepony without them finding out.”

“Yeah, but she only stayed for like thirty seconds; plus, you weren’t even hard when she got here.”

“What does that matter?”

“OK, how about this? To win the game, you have to get through three whole conversations instead of just one, and you have to let me get prepared beforehand.”

“What do you mean by ‘get prepared?” With no further explanation, Featherweight began to massage his friend’s sheathe again, leaving Pipsqueak to gasp and flinch at the touch.

“It isn’t fair if you’re not already hard. That just makes it easier for you.” Pipsqueak sucked in air through his clenched teeth and stamped his rear foot as his member was massaged to full mast by the deft hooves of his coltfriend.

“Feather, there ain’t no way I-”

“Umm, excuse me?” Pipsqueak's head snapped up from between his shoulders to meet the eyes of a shy yellow coated pegasus and her pet rabbit. “How much is it for a cup of lemonade?”

“It’ll be one-” Pipsqueak’s knees fell inward and his back left hoof ground harshly into the dirt as he felt a familiar wet, warm engulf his shaft. “One bit, miss.”

Oh, perfect. Angel here always gets a little cranky whenever we go out shopping so I told him I’d get him a little treat for his troubles this time.”

“How - nggh - thoughtful.”

The words were practically ground up as they passed the colt’s teeth in a harsh, guttural hiss. Pipsqueak would have been afraid she would find him out if she wasn’t so busy digging around in her saddle bag looking for bits.

“Oh, here we go,” Fluttershy smiled as she brandished a bit from her saddlebag and placed it on the counter in front of the straining young colt.

“R-right, one cup of lemonade comin’ right up.” It took every ounce of willpower and fortitude Pipsqueak possesed to simply pour that one glass of lemonade. He could barely stand on his hooves now let alone keep them still enough to pour a steady stream of liquid from one container to another, much smaller one.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of vigorous concentration and mental fortification, the little styrofoam cup was sufficiently filled with liquid and Pipsqueak was free to let himself slump over onto the table, much to the concern of his customer.

“Gosh, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mmmrphh...fine,” Pipsqueak shuddered. “Just, ahh....catching my breath. It’s a bit ho - ah! -hotter out here than I expected.”

“Oh, well, if you’re sure you’re alright.” Fluttershy grabbed the cup in her mouth and began to trot down the road.  “Come on, Angel.”

Angel, who’d been curiously peeking behind the wall of the stall, gestured frantically to his owner in hopes of convincing her to take a look for herself. Unfortunately for him, she was already a good ways down the street, and Angel bunny-despite the tough front he liked to put up-was utterly terrified of being left in the marketplace by himself. The little bunny gave one last disgusted look to the panting pinto colt sprawled out on the countertop before hopping off to catch up to his owner.

“Feathers,” Pipsqueak groaned. “You can stop, they’re gone.” Pipsqueak almost regretted his words as he felt the wonderfully warm sleeve cradling his shaft remove itself and subject his slickened member to a surprisingly cool breeze.

“Dude,” Featherweight snickered, squeezing his friend’s shaft and causing the young earth pony to jerk in place. “You’re totally not gonna make it.”

“That’s -nggh- cheating.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m only making sure you stay hard enough,” Featherweight informed as he continued to lightly pump his coltfriend’s shaft, making Pipsqueak moan openly and gently hump the hoof manipulating him. Featherweight continued to work the dripping shaft in front of him, stopping every fifteen seconds or so as not overwhelm the pinto colt. This in turn, left Pipsqueak a mess of tense muscle and objections that were quickly being drowned out by his labored breathing.

“Don’t expect...mercy when it’s your turn.”

“You’re making me kinda excited.” A particularly deft tug near the head of Pipsqueak's shaft cut off the response dangling from the tip of his tongue and instead reduced the words to a harsh, shuddered breath.

“I’d give you one more minute tops.” Featherweight laughed, smirking as his friend’s shaft dripped liberally onto the grass below.

“Sh-shut up.” Pipsqueak stuttered unsteadily.

“Make me,” Pipsqueak can hear the smugness practically dripping from Featherweight’s maw; but before he can even make a move, the deft movements of Featherweight’s hooves flit over his aching shaft and effectively bleed all of the aggression out of him.

“Ah! Celestia, Feathers, I’m seriously about to-”

“Hello?” Pipsqueak’s head rose from between his drawn up shoulders to meet the face of the one pony he hoped to Celestia wouldn’t come to visit their stand.

“H-hellooaaaah!” The tortured colt’s back went completely rigid as his shaft was once again engulfed in the oh-so-perfect pocket of warmth and wetness.

“‘Ello, miss Twilight...” The pinto colt rasped. “Would you like some lemonade?”

“That’d be great, actually. How much?”

“That’ll be ooooooone bit.” Pipsqueak tried his best to sound as normal as possible but the ever perceptive Twilight Sparkle noticed the pained wince on his face and the strange inflection in his voice.

“Are you alright, Pipsqueak?” The colt in question danced on his hooves and grit his teeth hard.

“Y-yeah, peachy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mmmhmm,” the colt snagged his maw between his teeth nodded in the frenzied sort of way that would suggest just the opposite. “How waaaaas your day?” Pipsqueak didn’t realize the grave error he’d made until the purple alicorn's mouth began moving at a mile a minute.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the kind of morning I had. First, the pipe in the bathroom sprung a leak, then Owlowiscious decided to tear up my favorite couch pillow, then Spike spewed fire everywhere because of the stomach ache he had from eating too much ice cream-which I told him not to do-”

It was getting harder and harder for Pipsqueak to comprehend what Twilight was talking about, amidst the absolutely divine pleasure ravaging his entire body. He tried to abate the hold that the euphoric sensations had on him by walking his lower half backward, but a pair of surprisingly firm hooves planted themselves on either side of his flank and locked him securely in place.

“-then he flew right over the chicken coop. Can you believe rabbits can even jump that high?” Twilight came down from her incessant rambling in a bit of a self aware daze.

“Oh, silly me. I got ahead of myself again, didn’t I?” Twilight looked to the colt she’d been conversing with for some sort of confirmation, only to be sent directly into panic mode by the far away, haggard state he looked to be in.

“Oh my gosh, somepony call a doctor! I think-”

“No...really...I’m fine...It’s -nngh- just…” Pipsqueak leaned over the table and gripped the edges, gnashing his teeth with incredible force and snarling a subdued, “bucking Celestia” before convulsing overtop the stall in paroxysms of utter bliss that to Twilight looked more like electrocution.

“Hold on, Pipsqueak!” Twilight leapt into action almost immediately, tackling the distressed colt and sending him rolling into the grass behind the stand.

“Don’t worry, I’m certified in seven different kinds of CPR!” Twilight rhythmically pressed her hooves to the colt’s chest cavity in hopes of stimulating his obviously oxygen deprived lungs to take in more air.

“Don’t give up on me, Pipsqueak. Just breathe!” Twilight took a large breath and pressed her maw to Pipsqueak’s, forcing air into his lungs. The colt in turn flailed underneath her, his eyes bulging and his hooves insistently pushing against any part of her that he could reach.

Twilight continued to pump his chest and force air into his lungs until a burst of strength from the colt underneath her pried her loose and sent her onto her back.

“Oh, thank Celestia you’re OK. I was so worried you-” Twilight’s brain experienced a momentary short circuit when she noticed the glistening vestiges of an erection softening between the blushing colt’s legs before he could fully cover himself.

Twilight’s mouth hung open and her eyes stared wide and unblinking at the young pinto colt as he curled in on himself in an attempt to shake off her piercing gaze.

“I-I can explain. See, me an’ Feathers were just playin’ a little game and uh…”

“You and Feathers?” Twilight turned her head toward their lemonade stand to find a young pegasus colt staring back at her, who almost would have looked completely innocent if it wasn’t for the bead of semen on his chin.

“You mean you...that whole time, you…?” Twilight turned back to the blushing colt who, no matter how hard he tried could not meet her eyes. A moment of uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Twilight’s brain tried desperately to make sense of the information presented to her.

“So, he was under the table….the whole...time…?” The revelation proved to be too much for Twilight to handle so after a couple incoherently muttered words and a decidedly ungraceful stagger she fell onto her back and passed out.

“Oh, Celestia, is she gonna be OK?” Featherweight asked, staring down at the incapacitated princess.

“She’ll be fine. Right now, I’m more worried about us. I think we should probably skedaddle before anypony sees this mess and gets the wrong idea.”

“Good thinking,” Featherweight agreed, his wings already primed and ready for take off.

“We’ll come back and get the stand later, yeah?’

“Yeah.” Once the plan was agreed upon, Pipsqueak took off running, weaving between throngs of unsuspecting ponies as he made his way home with Featherweight hovering not two feet above him.

“Oh, and by the way,” Featherweight began, his eyes still on the sky ahead of him. “You totally lost.”