Shameless in Ponyville

It’d taken the two of them all of five minutes to flee the pool after Soarin’s rather explosive...release. Soarin’ especially hadn’t exactly been looking forward to any kind of trouble—he knew that pissing the pool wasn’t exactly a welcome act, but jizzing in the pool… Well, he got his fair share of dirty looks on the way out.

Rainbow lapped the attention up, of course. More than once on the way to the locker rooms, she’d given his ass a good slap, or his crotch a squeeze. It’d been a struggle for Soarin’ not to pop a chubby as he’d waddled back to change.

It almost a relief to get back into his clothes. Soarin’ loved the looks his body got, and somehow loved the looks that Dash was getting even more. Still, he’d been exposed enough for now, he decided, tugging his extra-wide pantleg up over his half-flaccid member.

“Where to now?” he’d asked Dash, walking out of the pool. “Back home?”

She’d waggled her eyebrows at him. “As if I don’t know exactly what you want to do at home.” She gave his ass another smack, and he yelped. “Still, s’a nice day out. Might as well do a little more while we’re here, right?”

He’d agreed. Fifteen minutes later, he’d found himself buying tickets at the Ponyville Cinema. There was a new movie—some summer blockbuster—and Rainbow had all but dragged him to the ticket line. Explosions and action scenes had always been her biggest turn-on.

It was a bit weird, though; the line wasn’t that long at all, and the theater itself seemed mostly empty. Soarin’ wrote it off as an out-of-date film—it’d been out for a good three months by that time—and it was too nice a day to waste inside. Still, the air conditioning was pleasant against his fur, and it was nice to not be sweating as they sat themselves down inside the theater. It was a tight fit for both of them—Dash’s thick, meaty ass pushed against the armrests, and Soarin’ alone was nearly twice the width of a regular stallion—but the seats were comfortable enough.

Reflexively, Soarin’ curled his arm around Rainbow’s shoulder. She glanced up at him, then smiled softly. A soft blush came to his cheeks as she curled her arms beneath her bust and snuggled into his side. There came a familiar tightening at his crotch at the contact, but he was thankful that it didn’t go any further.

Instead, he rubbed his thumb along Rainbow’s shoulderblades, moving the pressure in lazy, wide circles. His big arm was surprisingly light on her shoulder, and it curled around her protectively. With his arm too long just end end there, Soarin’ let his big hand rest just below Dash’s bust, his palm sinking into her soft, rounded titflesh. She smiled, then snuggled further into him, the top of her head squishing into the bottom of his wide, soft pecs. He bounced them a few times, then chuckled when she shot him a smirk in return.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed. Soarin’ twitched slightly when he felt Dash’s hand slide across his crotch, but soon relaxed. She was just cuddling, he told himself. It wasn’t anything to worry about.

And yet...something about the gentle weight of her hand on his package had an effect. For the most part, Soarin’ did his best to pay attention to the movie. He even made it around twenty minutes in—and then Dash began to stroke him.

It wasn’t anything major, not at first. No, it was just her fingers flexing and contracting, her soft fingertips sliding across his stuffed crotch. Soon enough, though, her palm was gently rubbing his bulge—and that kind of stimulation had an effect.

Soarin’ grunted under his breath. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the stiffening at his crotch. Trying to be as gentle and apologetic as he could, he pushed Rainbow’s hand off of his groin. Within five seconds, it was back. This time, he picked her hand up and dropped it on her own lap. Within the blink of an eye, she’d begun massaging him again, and this time even more vigorously.

By the half-hour mark, Soarin’ was as hard as he’d ever been. His swelling erection was straining against his pants, the bulge down his side thicker than his actual leg. He swallowed, feeling his nutsack throb against the confines of his XXXL briefs. He tried to focus on the movie—something about a love story and a bunch of pegasi with swords—and found that his attention was fully focused around the point of contact with Rainbow’s hand.

Soarin’ nervously eyed the other patrons in the theater. It was dark enough that they were just shadowy, indistinct shapes; at least, he reflected, he was just about the same. Still, he was a large enough shadow that somepony might take notice, like the older-looking stallion two rows back, or the youngish mare sitting in the back row. He gulped then, put his hand on Rainbow’s.

“Dash,” he hissed. “You might want to stop that.”

She looked up at him with her head pressed against his side. It was too dark to tell, but he just knew that she was grinning. “Nah,” she murmured back. Soarin’ grunted as Dash’s arms encircled his swelling bulge, then moaned softly when she began to nuzzle his crotch.

“Dash,” he said, under his breath. “Please. You can’t—”

“Hey,” someone behind him hissed. “Keep it down!” Soarin’ stiffened, but shut his mouth.

Celestia help him, but he was starting to like it. Enjoy it, certainly—any hotblooded stallion would love the touch of a pretty mare to his crotch. But like it—feeling Dash touch him, fondle him, and with the ponies around them none the wiser.

He stifled a grunt. His cock lurched against his leg, and launched a huge splurt of precum out down his pants. Soarin’ arms twitched. He gritted his teeth, deciding to try and grin and bear it. But—for goodness’ sake, Rainbow Dash was making this torture. The steady massage of her practiced hands against his stallionhood was quickly driving him nuts.

It was driving his libido insane, too. Before long, his massive shaft was drooling steadily. His shoes had fast been covered by it, becoming absolutely drenched in his salty, musky pre. Soarin’ groaned softly and shifted in his chair; it creaked treacherously as he tried to spread his legs a little wider. He could feel his balls filling up, getting heavier by the second as every rub of Dash’s hands drove his arousal ever-higher.

By now, he was panting, doing his best to keep his arousal under control. It was fast becoming a hopeless task, though.

“Really,” he said, half groaning, half whispering. “We can do this later.”

He could hear Rainbow’s pout. “But I wanna see my big stud now,” she said. A beat later, he felt something large and soft against his crotch—specifically, a pair of large somethings. Dash had begun to massage his bulge with her tits, driving his erection to even larger sizes.

His cock throbbed, and his pecs flexed. Still groaning, Soarin’ felt something give in his shirt sleeve. His every muscle was twitching, flexing, contracting as he struggled to hold back the mounting flood. His shirt had ripped a bit around his sleeve, and his shirt was bulging obscenely behind the force of his pecs. The outline of his nipples, as erect as his cock, were clearly visible through the fabric. It might well tear too, at this rate.

Soarin’s head swayed faintly. He was starting to feel woozy. A river of his pre had long since drowned the floor in his scent; meanwhile, his huge nuts were beginning to press down in his pants, swelling fatter and heavier with cum as Dash massaged them. The fabric around his crotch was starting to tear, the sheer volume of his balls beginning to split the seams. He had no doubt that his speedo would have burst long ago. Only Rarity’s pure fashion skill kept his clothes together and untorn now.

By the one-hour mark, Soarin’ was whimpering. He would have run to the bathroom, even though his shoes and pants had long since been drenched in a flood of warm, sticky pre. And yet Dash kept him in place, the touch of her hand on his absolutely massive bulge pinning him in place as surely as glue. Each second, enough precum poured from his slit to match a normal stallion’s orgasm; seventy minutes in, Soarin’s engorged cock had pushed all the way down to his ankle, with both his shaft and balls nearly splitting the fabric.

A gasp of pleasure reached his ears. Soarin’ could barely see Dash grinding her chest against his massive bulge, her free hand stuck deep between her thighs. She was breathing heavily, rubbing against his crotch as she went to town on herself. Meanwhile, Soarin’s whole body was trembling. He could feel the load growing in his foal-sized nuts, an absolute ocean of spunk eager to be released.

“How’re you feelin’, stud?” Dash whispered. Soarin’ groaned, his muscles twitching as the pressure built up inside of him.

“Please,” he groaned.

“Please what?”

He just met her eyes helplessly. “Please,” he whispered. His hands were shaking. He was just about whimpering with need.

“Well, then.” Dash’s voice was full of satisfaction. “Y’should’ve just said so.” And she reached up to the top of his crotch.

Soarin’ kept twitching as Dash’s fingers teased his crotch; when she finally took hold of his zipper, all the tension went out of his shoulders. The feeling of even the warm, stuffy theater air was like heaven to his overstuffed, sweaty package. Soarin’ sighed, then inhaled a great lungful of his own musk. He had no doubt that Rainbow was doing the same.

She unzipped him all the way down to the knee. Rarity had certainly thought ahead. The second its way was clear, Soarin’s stallionhood sprang out, fully erect. He gasped a bit when he felt it bounce against his full, flexed chest. It poked up past his muzzle, and was thicker than it'd ever been before. It was hugely thick and fat, and easily blocked the screen from view. It was absolutely enormous, trembling and lurching with arousal; yet, somehow, Soarin’ couldn’t find it in himself to care whether the other movie-goers could see it. Somehow, all that mattered was his engorged boner—and Rainbow Dash.

She had her hands on his ballsack, her palms sinking a few inches into his overfilled nuts. Her fingers were curled around his base, though they were a far cry from being able to circle it completely. A river of pre was pouring down the side, drenching her in his lust.

“Looks like I’ve got a huge stud here,” Dash purred. “All pent-up, and all to myself. I wonder if I should help him?”

“Yes?” Soarin’ whimpered.

He could tell Dash was smirking. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Instead, she just slid her hands up his slick shaft as she teased his mammoth member toward her.

One hand holding his shaft aside, Dash reached with her other hand to unzip her jacket. Soarin’s eyes widened when he realized that she hadn’t been wearing any shirt beneath it—not even a bra. Instead, her boobs instantly sprang free, her huge bust bouncing down to her stomach.

It was no small effort for Rainbow to pull Soarin’s massive erection down toward herself, but she was determined. Soarin’ groaned, his whole body tensing as he felt Rainbow’s big, pillowy bust folding around his organ. The rate of pre streaming down his cock redoubled, drenching their laps together.

Rainbow’s lips brushed across the top of his flare, and Soarin’ grunted. Slowly, Rainbow’s muzzle stretched open until she’d—somehow, impossibly—managed to fit the entirety of his absolutely massive flare inside. Then, she began to push down.

She took it all in, every last inch of girth. Soarin’ would have been shocked into silence if his overpowering arousal wasn’t already keeping him permanently tense and quivering. Dash kept on going, swallowing inch after inch of his incredible cock. A river of his precum was running down her throat, a fresh spurt splattering against the back of her throat every other inch. And still, Rainbow kept going.

She kneaded his balls as her magnificent tits squeezed around his shaft. Soarin’ saw her throat bulge outward as she swallowed more and more of his length. By now, he was moaning audibly—and almost as loud as the movie, to boot. He could hear Dash gulping down his steady stream of pre, could hear the wet schlick-schlick of her boobs around his member. The softness of her tits was overwhelming; he could feel his balls churning, swelling, spilling over the chair and draping down toward the floor as they filled up further with cum.

Soarin’s nostrils flared as Dash hit a sweet spot. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Dash. I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

Dash couldn’t say anything in response. Her face was too stuffed with Soarin’s massive cock to do anything but gulp down the quarts of precum already beginning to swell her belly outward. Instead, all she did was raise her hand about a half-foot into the air—and bring it down with a smack over Soarin’s overloaded nuts.

Soarin’ made to moan—then gasped. He wasn’t cumming. He wasn’t cumming. Wide-eyed, and rapidly paling, he glanced down to see Rainbow Dash with both arms hugging tight around the midpoint of his shaft. All of his precum production had stopped save for a few drops, a tiny stream leaking from the tip as his hips shuddered and twitched. A massive bulge was building up at the base of his shaft as his balls churned and groaned and roiled, upset at their sudden inability to release their seed.

“Please,” Soarin’ whimpered. He tried to push her off, but found he couldn’t move. He was locked into place, frozen by terror at his oncoming orgasm. “Please, Dash.”

Her smirk stretched all the way across her face. Her huge breasts were helping to squeeze his cock shut, too, and the extra pillowy stimulation didn’t help at all. “Please what?”

“Please,” Soarin’ gasped. The pressure was building; he felt like his cock—no, he was going to explode. His cock kept bulging up, even as his balls swelled bigger and bigger. There was so much cum—he needed release, needed it more than anything else. When he spoke next, his voice was raised higher than the movie itself, but he didn’t even care. “Please, let me cum!”

She gave his tip a squeeze—then let go.

Soarin’ didn’t moan so much as howl, his whole cock contracting with the incredible force of his orgasm. It lurched like a cannon, the recoil slamming his hips against his seat. Huge ropes of cum as thick as any other pony’s forearm fired from his cocktip to splatter against—and fill—the back of Rainbow Dash’s throat.

To her credit, Dash took it like a champ—to start. Even as she was struggling to gulp down a wad of cum thicker around then her whole throat, she kept kneading Soarin’s nuts. They were hugely, impossibly full, each one more than three feet across now, and more than ready to spill their load no matter what the destination was.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes were tearing up. Her cheeks bulged out ridiculously every time Soarin’s massive cock erupted inside of her mouth. She managed two—three—four blasts of his cum. By now, her belly was pushing outward with the volume of his load. From the depths of his haze, Soarin’ noticed a bit of creamy white dripping down from her nostrils.

That, it seemed, was the most Rainbow could handle.

She jerked back from Soarin’s bulging flare. Her wide-spread muzzle popped off with the force of a rocket, huge globs of cum going flying everywhere as Soarin’s stallionhood contracted for another go. Still caught between howling, panting, and groaning, Soarin’ kept right on cumming. His monstrous shaft kept on lurching and shuddering as it erupted with more and more jizz—and there was always more to come.

A tidal wave of spunk washed over the seats in front of them, drenching the ponies in the lower rows with his seed. That was before Soarin’s cock spasmed upward, and began to shoot load after load of hot, thick semen all over the movie screen. What had probably been a fairly steamy romance scene anyway was soon drowned beneath a flood of white, Soarin’s colossal orgasm drowning out the dialogue with eruptions alone.

His shaft lurched upward to shoot a huge glob of cum, two feet across, up into the air. Half of it splattered onto the ceiling—and the other half dropped down over them. Rainbow laughed, cackling madly as Soarin’s hot creamy spunk matted her mane and dripped over her cheeks and bust. She kept on rubbing Soarin’s shaft, kneading his fat nuts as they put out more than they’d ever put out before.

Another lurch of his shaft sent a flood of stallion cream splattering over the rest of the audience; another eruption splattered the back of the theater with a half-dozen gallons of Soarin’s hot seed. A particularly weighty rope of jizz smacked against the projector and sent it crashing to the ground, sparking and spinning uselessly as it slowly groaned to a halt. The movie flickered, halted—and the lights came on.

Soarin’ moaned uselessly. His broad chest heaved up and down, his lungs greedily sucking in every bit of air that he could gulp down. He felt like he’d run a mile—no, three. Just below his eyes, his monster of a cock gave one final lurch, splattering his chest with another salvo of cum, before shuddering and thumping against his pecs.

Soarin’ kept panting. The stars flashing against his vision were slowly going away. The lights in the theater came on; somewhere, as if through a sea of fog, he could hear a murmur of raised, angry voices. But he didn’t care. The afterglow had spread throughout his body right now, and he felt paralyzed, drowning in a sea of endorphins.

That was when he felt a soft, feminine hand slipping around his neck. Dash’s lips brushed against his ear as her fingers rubbed against his collarbone. Soarin’ shivered, his whole body stiffening.

“Y’like that, stud?” she murmured.

Soarin’ was unable to say a word. His softening shaft, though, did all the talking for him. It lurched a bit, splattering a final cupful of cum across Rainbow Dash’s face. The last thing that Soarin’ heard before he passed out was Dash’s soft laughter; the last thing that he felt were her lips, softly pressed against his.