Clop, Clop

“You intended zis doughnut to have delicious jelly filling. But it will be my special eclair cream zat gets to it.” Gustave LeGrand waved the ridge above his golden eyes, twirling his finely-waxed mustache. His pastry bag stabbed deeply into an empty jelly doughnut, a grin on his beak. In defiance of culinary propriety, he was without both toque and apron, revealing the light gray of his head and the darker blue-gray of his coat, looking more like his body was of a chartreux rather than a lion.

“Oh yea? Well you see this eclair? It's not getting your precious frou-frou cream. This is good ol' pony-made jelly. And grape jelly too! None of that smooth lemon stuff!” Doughnut Joe pushed his pastry bag deep down into the eclair, the nozzle tip nearly at the bottom. As with his cooking counterpart, Joe was without toque and apron, and not even wearing his usual paper hat. His orange mane was free and untamed, and light amber body bared to the eyes of the griffin across the kitchen from him.

Gustave narrowed his eyes, talons giving the bag a slightly-tighter squeeze. “You would not DARE.”

Joe licked his lips, magical field pressing in just as much. “Try me.”

After a moment more of the standoff Gustave fired first. His talons squeezed his pastry bag, swiftly overfilling the fresh doughnut with the sweet cream. Not a second later, the magical aura squeezed the bag of jelly, pulling back slowly as the eclair was flooded with jelly.

“Monster! That was supposed to be a jelly filled! How could you?” Joe glared hotly at Gustave.

“Et vous! Zat was supposed to be filled with zee cream! Tres gauche to fill it with zat pedestrian jelly!” Gustave glared at Joe right back.

The two bakers looked at each other from across the kitchen, neither one moving a muscle. Then they set towards one another at the same moment, meeting in the middle with a solid impact, portly pony form to girthy griffin body. Gustave's arms wrapped around Joe's shoulders, while Joe's own forelegs came in under his arms to squeeze at his midsection. Their mouths met, lips locking, tongues dancing within each other's maws, deep, soft moans and grunts emerging from the pair.

The two parted with a soft pant and a fond lick at each one's tongues. “Oh you are one naughty griffin, aintcha Gussy?” Joe ruffled Gustave's head-feathers and leaned in against his lover.

“I wish you would not use such a name for me.” Gustave put on a mock-injured pout. “It is so... feminine. What if I were to call you Josephine? I am not a hen. Do you really want a hen, Joe?”

“Awww, no, no! Come on, Gustave. It's just...”

“Je comprendes, Joe. I was playing zee little trick. I do love when you call me, 'Gussy.' You really love me...” Gustave winked and placed a soft kiss on Joe's lips, stroking a talon down his cheek and neck.

Joe shivered lightly and gave a lopsided grin. “You're a hard griffin to figure out, Gussy. I think that's why I fell for you in the first place.” Joe ground his portly frame up against Gustave's body, hooves groping clumsily at his lover's thick body.

A hearty chuckle poured from Gustave's lips, his talon's lewdly reaching under Joe to caress his thick sheath, not minding the clumsy gropes from his earnest sweetheart. “Oui. We Black-Verreaux griffins are tres mystérieux. And very passionate. We are just like zee ponies you call zee “Percheron.” Mm, but you do not want a pony, do you, ma bon chef de pâtisserie..?”

“Yea...” Joe let out a deep, husky groan, his amber-colored organ dropping form his sheath under the griffin's ministrations. He reached out with his magical field, gripping and kneading Gustave's partially-emerged penis. “And you ain't lookin' for another griffin, are ya? Nah, ya just want a some fatty of a Manehattan stallion. Ya wanted a pony so bad ya changed yer own name. Pony name and all...”

“Mmm, oui.” Gustave licked up the side of Joe's face, until he got to his ear, nibbling it with his break, mustache tickling the inside just slightly. “Zere is no more Gustave mac Jean O'Black-Verreaux. Zere is only Gustave LeGrand, citizen of Equestria.” He stroked up and down Joe's floppy rod, causing the other baker to stiffen up almost immediately, a testament to the pony's great love.

“And I'm glad I've got you.” Joe's ear twitched and his body shuddered, from the warm pleasure of his erection being stroked, the tickly brush of the mustache in his ears, to the tingle running through his horn from the sensation of him using his magic tendrils to grip and stroke the leonine penis. Or leonine to some extent. It was thick, like a pony's, but somewhat pointed, and lacked the barbs he had heard were on feline poles. “All for me.”

Gustave gave a breathy laugh and tickled that ear a bit more, rubbing his thumb gently along the blunted crown of Joe's length, the smooth bumps of his scaled talons massaging and tickling the heated, throbbing flesh, teasing out the first few small dribbles of slick precum. “And zis... zis belongs to moi.” The griffin tickled his tongue slowly around the cup of Joe's ear, trailing kisses as he went along.

“Yea... yea you roll that piping bag, Gussy. Squeeze it. Got lots and lots of glaze, and it's all yours.” The overheated stallion panted hotly and let out a long, drawn-out groan as his penis openly leaked, adding slickness to the warm stroking of his engorged pole. His horn flared more, his magic adding more “surface area” to the stroking. It was no longer like a gripping hand. It was more like a warm, tingly blanket, rolling up and down the pointed shaft, squeezing in firmly for a moment.

“Dirty, dirty stallion.” Gustave's comment was little more than a hot breath, barely audible above the thumping of their hearts and grind of their bodies. “Oui... Use zat magic. I may be no hen but I have two BIG eggs pour vous. All heavy and ready to be drained.” He dropped a wink and kissed the stallion's snout. “Do you like to drink zee egg creams?”

“Heh, I’ve never turned down an egg cream.” A pang of worry crossed the stallion's features and he gave his body a shake, making his not-insubstantial gut wobble. “Never really turned down much of anything... But hey! I'm a pastry cook. That's how I like it.” His body shuddered lightly as the stroking of his erection also grew to include the cupping and squeezing of his testicles. “Oh, and that's how I like it too.”

“J-joe!” Gustave shivered a bit, arching his back to shove the proud length of pink flesh into the engulfing magic field, swinging his testicles freely for a moment before the magic came in to grasp and massage over them as well. The warm magical feeling flowed across the heavy spheroids and up the faintly-spitting tube of griffin meat. “Are you so eager for a snack?”

“Hey, honey-buns...” Joe shook his belly again, this time with less self-loathing, but with almost a flush of pride. While he did that his hips pumped a bit faster, though with some jerkiness; clearly he was not used to much in the way of physical activity, though this was something he had some skill with. His amber-colored maleness slid smoothly through Gustave's grip, pleasured and massaged by the smooth bumps of the griffin's hand, gliding along on a slick layer of his precum. “I always want a snack. Gimme!”

Gustave did not respond with words. He only hungrily clamped his mouth onto Joe's mouth, tongue dueling with the pony's, sucking on him with great eagerness. He was matching his lover's motions, though they were pleasuring each other in completely different ways. The magical field massaging his genitals was everywhere. It touched every inch of his rod, and all around, and likewise cupped his dangling testes, rubbing, squeezing, rolling along, smearing the slippery liquid spitting from the tip all around.

The two groped around at their lover's bodies, eyes closed tightly as they made out. As their orgasms drew closer to arrival, they started groping around the counters around them. Joe's trembling magical grip squeezed down on an empty eclair, giving it an unintentional massage; Gustave's free talon grabbed a dry jelly doughnut, claws digging into the side and tearing it mostly open.

The two responded to each other almost instantaneously, modifying speed, strength and location of strokes and pulls, the two items of pasty brought down before the twitching, pleasure-soaked erections. The two broke their kiss to let out loud, husky groans.

Joe was the first one to go; he usually was. He tossed his head back and delivered a heavy nicker and let himself go, blunted head flaring lightly beneath Gustave's fingers, which directed it towards the magically-held eclair, the fill hole being opened good and wide by the magic holding it. The heavy stallion nuts delivered heavy gouts of sticky cream, which splattered straight into the opening, with some of it coating the outside.

Gustave hardly left his lover any time to recover, Joe forced to focus on keeping his rolling magical grip steady and firm, pointing the pointed tip of the griffin's meat at the opened doughnut, working the base of it with more stroking pressure and giving the leonine testicles an encouraging squeeze. Almost as if he was squeezing out the contents of a piping bag, with a more gentle touch. With a sound like a melded screech and roar he threw back his head and shuddered his hips, releasing his personal cream all over the opened doughnut, his talon doing well to try and hold it steady and catch all the shots of gooey semen.

The magical field faltered and fell away from Gustave's softening maleness, letting it flop and slowly soften back into his sheath, testes swaying as the cupping force dropped. Joe's length flopped and swayed comically, as any other stallion's tool. The two pressed in for a warm, comforting kiss, tongues briefly twining together before they separated with a soft pop.

The eclair slowly levitated up, placed before Gustave's beak. It oozed with pony semen, looking a trifle soggy and slightly worse for wear for having been flattened inside with quick bursts of magic to provide enough space. “Hey Gussy... an eclair. Just like you love it.”

“Mon amour...” Gustave's eyes shone as he took the eclair, and passed the closed doughnut into the stallion's magical field. The ragged tearing and quick presses of fingers just barely made enough room to hold in the whitish griffin issue; it wasn't sealed up like a proper jelly doughnut, and looked ready to flop open at a moment's notice. “Pour vous, mon coeur.”

Joe unashamedly took a big bite of the sopping pastry, tongue flicking around and making sure to lap up any stray bits of seed that tried to escape from his maw. His tongue ran slowly along the bitten edge, a pleasured smile and pleased rumble showing his delight. “Ahhh, Gussy. Ya got talent. This is a dee-liscious griffin cream doughnut.”

Gustave was slightly more restrained, taking an almost-disdainful sniff at the sloppily-made eclair. He then opened his mouth and took a bite at the open end. His tongue teased at the escaping liquid, then slid back into his beak as he gave a slow, contemplative chew. He swallowed it with a sigh and smiled to Joe. “Delicious. You made a wonderful pony jelly eclair.”

The two males leaned against one other, casually eating their pastry while clearly showing how much they enjoyed the taste. Joe was the first so speak, licking his lips and leaning his head against Gustave. “Ya know, Gussy... I'm glad I met you.”

Gustave leaned over to kiss his stallion, an arm sliding around him to draw him into a warm, tight snuggle. “Je t'aime, mon petit étalon...”

Joe just gave a confused look to the griffin, rubbing his head with his hoof. “Uhhh, yea.. jet... am... you too.”

Gustave nestled his beak under Joe's chin, rubbing against his throat. “I have never heard it said better.”