An In-Depth Study of the Male Sex Drive
“What do you call a cow with no legs?”
“How should I…? I don’t know, a legless cow?”
“Ground beef! Ha!”
Spitfire facepalmed, muttering “Oh Celestia” under her breath. Soarin’, meanwhile, burst into laughter at yet another one of his jokes. If they’re even worth calling jokes… she mused, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning.
Soarin’ sat across from her on the couch while she sat in her arm chair. When she suggested that he come by her house for a “lazy day,” that last thing she expected nor needed was to be bombarded with bad puns. “You’re just ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”
“And proud,” he replied. Unlike Spitfire, he knew exactly what to expect, having stocked up on the best jokes Equestria had to offer. At least, he thought they defined the best of humor. One way or another, he found himself relaxing as he spent the day with Spitfire. Can’t say I don’t enjoy days off, he thought.
After sipping at the tea from the mug she held, Spitfire said, “You know, I thought I would eventually get used to your sense of humor one day. I’m still waiting.”
“Still waiting? Hey, we’ve been together for what? A year?”
“One year, two months, five days.” She set the mug onto a side table. “But who’s counting?”
“…Right,” Soarin’ said, mentally slapping himself. “In any case… I think your best option would be to embrace the corniness instead of ‘getting used to it.’ Let it flow through you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind… So…”
“Yeah?”
With mischievousness painted on her face, she said, “What do you call a cross between an elephant and a rhino?”
“What?”
“Hell if I know.”
Soarin’s brow furrowed. “Huh? I don’t… Wait, wait! I get it! Haha!”
Watching her boyfriend toil in his own cackling, she had to look away lest she get pulled in with him. He’s such an oaf, she said to herself, shaking her head.
Spitfire took the moment to nestle into the cushions of her armchair, trying to make herself more comfortable. What’s a lazy day without lounging around like a sloth? Her jacket shifted to her side at the movement, prompting her to adjust it by the edge of the fabric before settling down.
As she returned her gaze to Soarin’, she caught sight of him staring back at her… only pointed a little lower than her face. “Hey!” she called, grinning like a cat that had caught the bird. “I saw that!”
“Oh, uh… heheh…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, but I can’t help but admire the stunning lady in front of me.”
She flashed him a knowing look. “Nice save.”
“Why thank you,” he said, but Soarin’ knew she enjoyed his attention. Had he been caught back when they weren’t dating… A shudder ran down his spine at the thought.
Spitfire took a second to give herself a onceover. Dressed plain and simple, she wore just her usual brand of slimming jeans and a thick, tan jacket, the latter zipped a bit too low to be called modest, but still too high to be called provocative. Of course, she couldn’t deny that she’d done that on purpose. A fitting outfit for the day.
“I just don’t get you guys. Always so eager,” she said, holding out her hands in mock-exasperation.
“Huh? What do you mean by that?”
Spitfire placed her hand under her chin as she thought. “Mm… I don’t get why guys can get so uppity about sex. I mean, I don’t get that excited… easily.”
“Well, you’re a girl,” he said, nodding in understanding. “It’s different.” Throwing on a deep, over-dramatic voice, he added, “Be thankful you’ll never know the torturous power of the male sex drive.”
Unsure whether to laugh or be confused, she settled for a shrug. “In that case, you guys should look into something called self-control. You may have heard of it before.”
Soarin’ fell into a fit of laughter at the words, but not a dismissing kind—just a guilty, “yeah, I know…” kind. “Trust me, we try.”
The words echoed about in Spitfire’s head as her mind drifted away for a few moments. You try…? she wondered, her thoughts racing. Then she got an idea… perhaps a devilishly wicked idea, but still an idea. “Hey, Soarin’,” she said, a smirk on her lips. “Want to play a game?”
As his laughter died down, he cocked his head. “A game?”
“Uh-huh. Just thought of it, in fact.”
Soarin’ narrowed his eyes but still kept a grin plastered across his face. What’s she up to…? he wondered. “Sure, why not? What game did you have in mind? If I can make a suggestion, I think Twister would be a good choice.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I had something…” She giggled. “…else in mind.” Not bothering to wait for his reaction, she reached for the zipper of her jacket and tugged it to the bottom. Soarin’ watched, smile erased from his face, as she exposed her half-naked chest to him. A mere few layers of fabric in her bra stood between her and open air.
“…So what kind of game are we playing?” Soarin’ asked, unable to decide whether or not his smile should make a return.
Spitfire didn’t answer, allowing her actions to speak for her again. With a wink of the eye, her hands slipped under the back cover of her jacket, fumbling for a few seconds before her fingers grazed over the target. Never breaking eye-contact with her wide-eyed boyfriend, she unclasped her bra, leaving only her arms to hold it in place.
“You know what?” Soarin’ said. “I think I like this game.” Having decided to go with his signature lip-biting grin, he reached for the top button of his shirt and—
“We’re not having sex.”
Soarin’ froze. His eyes glanced over Spitfire’s nearly nude form before he let out a weak gasp. “Spitfire…” he moaned. “That’s the worst thing you could say to a guy while stripping!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry…” She trailed off, her face shifting with thought. “…Okay, you might actually have a point.”
“Glad you see it my way,” he hmphed.
She shook her head. “Anyway… Here’s my game. So, I honestly don’t get why you guys can get so obsessed over sex. Really, is it that big of a deal?” she said, unable to stop a few giggles from breaking into her words.
“Yeah, totally.”
She shot him a “really?” kind of look. “Jokes aside, here’s my game. I’m going to drop my bra.”
“Sounds great,” he said, nodding with mock-formality. “Let’s begin.” Spitfire replied with a sly grin, causing his demeanor to flinch. She’s up to something, he thought as a chill ran up his spine.
Spitfire continued. “I’m going to drop my bra… but no staring.”
Soarin’s eyes flew open. “…Huh, wha?” he sputtered.
“You heard me, tough stuff,” she said, putting on her drill sergeant voice. “No staring, peeking, gawking, or anything of that sort.
He shook his head, waving his hands out in front of him. “Hold on, is that the game? You trying to tease me?”
“It’s only teasing if you see it that way,” she said in a blatant teasing voice. “What’s the matter? Can’t control yourself?”
He deadpanned. “You’re totally playing me… But why the hay not?! Sure, let’s play this twisted thing you call a game.”
“Great!” she chimed. With a warm smile dancing upon her lips, she shifted her arms, letting her bra fall free to her lap. Pinching it by a strap, she tossed it away, far out of reach.
“There we are,” she said, cupping one of her breasts with her hand. They were each perky and well-rounded, large enough for her to fit her palm around. “You know, it always feels nice to get that thing off. Also breezy.” She glanced up to Soarin’. “So I was thinking—you’re already looking!”
The sound of Soarin’s face palm echoed throughout the house.. “Ugh! That’s not fair! They just… popped out!”
“Dangit, Soarin’,” she said, holding out her hands in an unbelieving gesture. “You had to do just one thing. One!”
Laughing out of anxiousness and silliness, he managed, “Come on, gimme a freebie. It starts now, okay?”
“…Fine…heh,” she said, but she couldn’t help but join in with a few chuckles of her own. Oh, Celestia, she wondered. This is just ridiculous. That’s my Soarin’ alright. “We start now.”
“Great,” he said, donning his trademark concentration face.
In the ten seconds that followed, the dead-silent staring contest they had could only be described as…
Awkward.
“So…” Spitfire said, pursing her lips. “You’re still allowed to talk, you know.”
“I know, I know. Just… focusing,” he replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “Is it really that hard?”
He nodded slowly, but his eyes remained at the exact same angle through the motion. “You don’t understand, Spitfire. I don’t try to look, it just happens automatically. It’s the eyes that want to stray down there.”
“…That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Soarin’ sighed. “That’s the best way I can describe it… So how long does this game last?”
“Mm…” Spitfire leaned back into her armchair, throwing her legs over the armrest and resting her chin on her hand. Giving herself a once over, a smirk played at her lips as she noticed the side of her jacket had covered her torso, leaving only her nipple to poke out. Ha! Not making it that easy. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the fabric behind her.
“…Darn…” she heard Soarin’ mutter, causing the smirk to break out in full force.
“So how long does this last?” she repeated. “How about five minutes?”
“Five minutes?!” he repeated. “No, no, no, no, no. That’s just cruel. One minute.”
Her face shone with incredulousness. “One minute? That’s just easy. How about three?”
“One and a half.”
“Two and a half.”
“Spitfire…” Soarin’ started, his voice solemn and deep. “This is the second hardest thing you’ve ever asked me to do. Please don’t make it worse than it needs to be.”
She narrowed her eyes, the gears working in her head. He’d been staring a million miles into her eyes, not even blinking until his eyes seemed to burn with the need to do so. If this was as daunting as he claimed, then she had to give him credit. “Two minutes. Including the time that’s already passed. That would be…”
“One minute and twenty-three seconds,” he said. “But who’s counting?”
Spitfire opened her mouth, but promptly closed it. She remained silent for a few moments before returning to her usual smirking demeanor. Raising her hand to her chest, she began tracing her fingers around the edge of her nipple.
She’d give him credit, but not that much.
Oh, Celestia… Soarin’ thought. Trying to keep up his strained attention, he bit his tongue every time his eyes threatened to trail down that curved, godly figure—he bit it again. You just had to, didn’t you?
“Seriously?” he said, voice coming out a note too high. “Just… seriously? “You’re really playing with yourself right now?”
“What’s the matter?” she cooed. Face beaming with innocence, she cupped her hand around her breast as her fingers ran across, stroking and squeezing at her tit. “Is something bothering you?”
Soarin’ grit his teeth. “You. Are. A. Teaser!”
In response, Spitfire let out a low, alluring moan as if all her tension flowed out with it.
“You did that on purpose!”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But I know you like it.”
He shook his head. “Not now. Any other time, Spitty, but not now.”
“Hey! Don’t call me Spitty!”
For once, Soarin’ was the one to smirk.
Spitfire rolled her eyes, letting another few chuckles fly. As she kept her hand fingering around her breast, she kept her eyes trained on her boyfriend. Boy, he’s really concentrating, she mused, taking in the sight of his scrunched up features. Is he really taking this so seriously? “Hey, how much time left?”
“Forty-four seconds,” he called back.
Alright then. With playful danger flashing in her eyes, she decided to “turn up the heat” so to speak. She retracted her hand from her chest, but the break was short lived. Shifting herself again, she straightened up a bit, enough for her to move her other arm. Reclining into the couch cushion, she brought both hands under her breasts and began fondling herself. Her hands worked their way across her skin, gently caressing and groping in a sensual massage.
Of course, she made sure Soarin’ had the best possible view.
Spitfire considered ridding herself of her jacket, but decided against it as she loved the thought of her breasts poking out from its cover. Simply sexy, if she could say so herself.
“You are evil,” Soarin’ deadpanned.
“They’re just boobs!”
“They are so much more than that!”
“Ha! You’ve seen me before Soarin’. This is nothing new.”
He shrugged, unsure, but still managed out a grin as he replied, “It’s not like I could ever get tired of you, my dear Spitfire.”
If her hands weren’t busy playing masseuse, she would’ve facepalmed at the sheer corniness. Didn’t you already use a line like that? Rather than talking any longer, she let her body send the message for her. She may be enjoying herself—in more way than one—but she couldn’t help the jolt of excitement that came whenever she looked at Soarin’. The thought of him admiring her with such intent… Part of her suspected that she’d been enjoying this as much as him.
If he actually is enjoying it. Watching him watch her, she raised an eyebrow at the concentrated face he still wore. I’ve never seen a man look so helpless, she thought. I wonder what’s going through his mind…
Soarin’, meanwhile, would’ve described his mind as “thoroughly dysfunctional.” I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t… I don’t need it.
Yup, he’s a real determined one, Spitfire thought just as an idea popped into her head. Yeah, he’s right. I am such a teaser, and I have to say I like it!
Spitfire narrowed her eyes in a sultry stare, sending a shot of fear and excitement through Soarin’s system. He watched as she lifted one of her breasts and brought her head down.
She wouldn’t… he thought.
Her tongue emerged from her mouth.
She wouldn’t!
With another wink of the eye, Spitfire’s lips twisted into a wry grin.
She would! Oh goddesses, she would!
In a mere second, he was greeted by the sight of his girlfriend running her tongue over her own tit. She took the action slow and deliberate, sure to cover each side of her nipple before trailing around it. She finished her magic with a quick yet deep kiss on top of the sweet spot, leaving a strand of saliva suspended between it and her lips before she wiped it away. Hands down, no contest, he had a contender for the Celestia-damned sexiest thing he’d ever seen…
Or at least he would have if not for his eyes being elsewhere. “When we’re done,” he said, “you’re doing that again so I can actually watch.”
“Fine by me,” she laughed. “You know, we can quit if you want. The point of this wasn’t to torture you.”
“No!” He shook his head, knocking loose a few locks of his hair in the process. “I’m in it to win it!”
For the umpteenth time that evening, Spitfire found herself rolling her eyes. “Whatever you say, tough stuff. How long until it’s over?”
“…”
“…What? Got cotton in your ears? How long until—”
“Right now!” he declared, springing up from his seat. “I win, Spitty! Take that, haha!”
Spitfire responded with a slow clap.
“Heheh… yeah.” He turned to his girlfriend. “So what do I—hey! Don’t cover them now!”
“Ha! Aren’t you eager?” With a happily defeated smile, she lowered her arms and had to resist the urge to shake her head as Soarin’ stared down with pure, perverted righteousness in his eyes. “You know, after all of this, I still don’t understand you guys.”
“Let’s just say it’s a mutual feeling and call it even.”
“Why not? So what were you saying?” she asked. “You said, ‘What do I…?’”
“Oh, right.” Throwing on a nonchalant façade, Soarin’ tried and failed to sound casual. “I won… so does the winner get a prize?”
She mock-gasped. “What? You being in my presence is not reward enough?”
“Oh, it’s reward enough…” he said. “I was just hoping the lady would allow us a more… intimate presence.”
It took all of two seconds for Spitfire to burst out laughing. “Geez, we’re awful at role play. But as they say… Practice does makes perfect.”
Soarin’ nodded, satisfaction taking hold of his features. “It’s kinda funny. As flat out painful and absurd your game was, I think it turned out alright.”
“That’s good to hear…” she cooed. Staring out with a half-lidded gaze. “You know why?
“‘Cause my next game’s going to be even better.”
