Sorry Soarin

by garatheauthor

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Fleetfoot, Wonderbolts, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin
Length: 4507

Spitfire and Fleetfoot try their best to make up the events of Rainbow Falls to Soarin

After the events of Rainbow Falls Soarin is a bit dejected for being nearly kicked off the Wonderbolts racing team. In an attempt to raise his spirits Spitfire and Fleetfoot prepare a little surprise for him.

This fic was started on May 4th, the first draft was completed May 7th, and the final version was posted on Tumblr (thatorangepegasi), on May 9th. If you enjoy it make sure to visit my Tumblr for some of my earlier stuff.

Published 2016-05-25 07:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-25 07:10:01 UTC

Sorry Soarin

Three ponies walked through the streets of Rainbow Falls, Luna’s moon hanging high in the sky. At such a late hour most ponies were trying to catch some sleep before tomorrows qualifications. However, for these three their event had happened hours early and not only had they qualified but they had done so with a time that crushed all of the competition. These three ponies were none other than Spitfire, Soarin, and Fleetfoot, the head honchos of the elite flying squad the Wonderbolts.

To celebrate their victory, the three of them had gone to a bar. Each of them dressed in a stunning looking flight jacket, with a wonderbolts’ emblem pinned to the front. Aviator glasses with black lens were hanging off the edge of their snouts completing what they called the Wonderbolt’s bar scene look. Now several hours later they were making their way back to their trailer, being more than a little tipsy at this point.

Spitfire clumsily walked through the streets nearly careening into a wall as her fours legs refused to cooperate. She laughed at this and looked at Soarin continue with her dialog. “Honestly Soarin, we weren’t trying to replace you, I just personally liked looking at Rainbow in latex.”

Fleetfoot snorted and nodded along. “Yeah no offense, but you know her ass is way better to look at than yours.”

Soarin huffed at this, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you two. If Dash hadn’t had that guilt trip I would probably still be in bed.”

Fleetfoot thought about it before nodding. “Yeah probably, but only because we wanted your wing to heal.”

Spitfire nodded along but Soarin just made an offended sound. “My wing was perfectly fine. I’ve taken worse crashes getting out of bed in the morning.”

Spitfire gave him a stern look, that only meant she was about to go into a captain’s rant. “Soarin, I wasn’t about to let you hurt yourself over this competition. I mean who cares about this type of stuff we do this for fun. If your injury worsened because of it, it would have threatened the well being of the Wonderbolts as an aerial team.”

Soarin only shook his head. “But I ended up flying anyways.”

Spitfire nodded before smiling, and hitting him playfully on the shoulder with a hoof. “Yeah and you were slow?”

Soarin grumbled and blushed slightly. “You noticed?”

Fleetfoot snorted loudly. “Of course we noticed. We only fly with you like every single day.”

Spitfire smirked and draped a hoof over his back, managing to use him to keep her balance as she walked on three legs. “Don’t worry, me and Fleet have something special planned for you to help with the recover.”

Fleetfoot added. “And to make up for totally trying to kick you off our racing team.”

Spitfire nodded. “And for doing that.”

Soarin looked between the two of them. “What do you two have planned?”

Fleetfoot joined in draping her own hoof over his back. “It’s a surprise.”

Spitfire nodded some more. “A huge one.”

Before long they were back at their trailer. It was part of a larger encampment which made up the Cloudsdale team. They made their way over as silently as they could manage knowing that many of their teammates would be trying to get some sleep. It was mostly successfully though in the low light the drunkards managed to catch their hooves on a few loud objects. Finally, they made it to their door. All of them piled in as Soarin flicked on the light with the tip of his wing.

The trailer was pretty luxurious by trailer standards. It was divided into four compartments. The one they entered was the living segment which did the best to replicate a living room with about a fifth the space. Connected to that was the kitchen nook which had all the equipment required to cook most meals. Then to the right was a narrow hallway of sorts. The hallway had three doors, the left and right heading to bathrooms, while the one at the end spilled out into their shared bedroom.

For now, Soarin sat down upon their couch, groaning as the soft cushions took the weight off of his hooves. He took off his glasses and placed them on a nearby table, and then shrugged off his jacket letting it fall onto the couch. He thought that Spitfire would reprehend him for that but he noticed that she had also lazily discarded her clothing and was joining him on the couch. She was to his left, and he could feel Fleetfoot flank him to the right. They were sitting in a similar position as him, with their rumps on the couch; their hind legs sticking straight out; and their fore legs resting in front of them between their hind legs.

He looked from side to side and noticed that the two had exchanged a look, mischievous grins now plastered onto their muzzles. Spitfire smirked and leaned over him, her head inches below his. Her eyes looked up at him. “Ready for your surprise?”

He was about to ask what it was before Fleetfoot also leaned in. She met with Spitfire, pressing her lips against hers. The two of them kisses, with Spitfire making a tiny little pleasured noise in the back of her throat. Soarin could hear it, and he blushed bright red. He cleared his throat and grinned. “You two always know how to cheer me up.”

The two of them held their kiss as they clumsily repositioned themselves. They made lewd noises, really playing up on the girl-on-girl for Soarin’s amusement. He didn’t mind, instead just sitting there with a huge grin plastered on his face. The mares laid on their bellies, their necks resting on his hind legs. They looked up at him, before pulling away from each other.

Spitfire took a shaky breath and placed her hoof tenderly against his sheath, massaging the fold of flesh. “We are so sorry Soarin.”

One of Fleetfoot’s hooves cradled his balls, as the other lightly pressed down from above. She didn’t squeeze them even the slightest, instead she began to carefully massage each of the heavy orbs. “Oh Spitfire, look how swollen these are. We’ve been bad teammates for allowing him to go without for so long.”

Soarin began to moan, his erection beginning to slowly grow, pressing out of his sheathe. Spitfire leaned forward and gave his semi-erect tip a nice little kiss, her lips suckling upon it to draw out a second moan from him. She got her wish as Soarin did nothing to hold back his pleasure. “Mmm and you know what Fleetfoot? Bad teammates deserve to be punished.”

Soarin let out a big huff of pent up air, before turning his gaze to the mares. “Alright calm down you two.”

Fleetfoot chuckled and nodded. “Sorry, is our cheesy dialog killing your boner?” She removed her hooves from his sack and replaced them with her lips. She took one of the hefty orbs in her mouth and began to suck upon it. She wasn’t gentle about it either, she vigorously milked him eager to get him nice and hard as quickly as possible.

He did get hard rather fast and Spitfire made sure to note that. “Mmmm I don’t think so Fleet, he looks ok to me.” She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. She playfully licked her lips before leaning in. Her mouth opened nice and wide, her tongue now resting against the base of his erection. A lewd noise came forth from Soarin as Spitfire slowly dragged her tongue from the bottom of Soarin’s erection all the way to the tip.

Soarin shivered, his cock quivering under the joint stimulation. Fleetfoot pulled away from his testicale with a satisfying pop of her lips. She wasn’t idle for long however as she switched to his counterpart, taking the other ball into her mouth, suckling eagerly upon it. She looked up at him with utter joy in her gaze.

Spitfire’s smacked her lips and took the flared tip of his erection into her maw. It was a tight fit but she managed to eagerly welcome him into her mouth. Her tongue rested upon the bottom of her mouth acting like a mattress for his cock to rest upon. Once he was a few inches inside of her, her tongue began to slowly circle around his erection, spreading her saliva across it.

Soarin’s jaw tensed as a wave of pleasure washed over him. This drew an intense pleasured moan from his throat. He placed a hoof firmly on the back of Spitfire’s head. He didn’t apply force, instead simply stroking her yellow and orange mane. Fleetfoot let out a little whine as she was denied similar affection. Soarin’s gut was tense so he could only manage a small single note of amusement at her reaction. He placed his other foreleg’s hoof on Fleetfoot’s white mane, stroking it as well.

Fleetfoot pulled away from his sack, pressing her tongue against his erection. There was still quite a bit of free space between the base and Spitfire’s hungry lips. Fleetfoot winked at Soarin before slowly moving upwards her warm tongue moving along his erection. As she moved towards the tip Spitfire began to retreat abandoning his erection to the air. The two of them met at his tip, which quivered as a bead of pre oozed forth. Spitfire took the initiative and suckled the droplet of pre, shooting Fleetfoot a look.

Both of them took a separate side of his cock, their lips eagerly suckling upon the flare. Spitfire dragged her tongue down his erection as Fleetfoot took him within her mouth. Due to Spitfire’s previous work at lubricating him Fleetfoot was able to take a few more inches with relative ease. Soarin’s head tilted back and he let out a loud moan, his hips bucking upwards lightly. Spitfire’s tongue reached his sack and drew back, a strand of saliva connecting one of his glistening orbs to her lips. She swatted at the strand and gave him a playful look as it was severed.

Spitfire reached over and placed a hoof firmly on the back of Fleetfoot’s head. The other went between her own haunches, gently caressing at her sex. Soarin could smell their arousal lingering in the air. Spitfire put on her firm, captain voice. “Come on Fleetfoot, are you here to suck Soarin’s cock or are you just playing around?”

Fleetfoot rolled her eyes, and Soarin shrugged with a “what can you do” gesture. Soarin watched as Spitfire’s foreleg flexed and Fleetfoot began to slide down his erection. A moan was caught in the back of his throat as her lips slowly slid down, cradling his cock until the tip hit the back of her throat. She let out a sharp gag and tried to jerk back only for Spitifire’s hoof to hold her firmly in place.

The sputtering of her weak gags caused his flare to be massaged by the spasm of her throat. His wings expanded, spreading outwards in a flurry of loose feathers. He gasped sharply and shuddered feeling his balls grow tense. Spitfire seemed to notice this as Soarin could see her hoof slip away from the back of Fleetfoot’s mane. Fleetfoot rocketed upwards and coughed loudly, taking a deep breath. She looked over at Spitfire flashing her the daggers of a glare.

Fleetfoot wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof before shooting Spitfire a quip. “Thanks for that.”

Spitfire leaned over Soarin’s erection and gave Fleetfoot a kiss on the cheek. “I just wanted to make sure Soarin was getting your best. Speaking of which.”

Spitfire launched herself downwards taking Soarin between her lips. She didn’t stop at just the tip, instead she went lower and lower, past the point where the mares’ saliva created a border, until finally her snout was against the base of his erection. She had taken him to the base in one motion, and had seemed to do it with surprising ease. Soarin was wide eyed as a pleasure rocked him, a moan slipping from his lips. It was now a constant masculine drone of pleasure. Even Fleetfoot was surprised, a shocked expression drawn on her frozen face.

The peaceful posture of Spitfire was shattered moments later as she began to viciously gag. She tried to pull up only for Soarin to place a hoof on the back of her head. Unlike his previous petting, this hoof was there to keep her down. He groaned loudly allowing her desperate tongue work, and the reflexes of her throat to pleasure him. He’d loosen his hoof just enough for her to draw back a few inches before flexing and shoving her back down to the base. Each cycle of this caused more gags to erupt from her tight little throat. Soarin watched tears form in her eyes, streaking down her cheeks.

He was caught up in the moment, with each cycle using her mouth like a cheap fleshlight. It was happening quicker and quicker, his hoof almost constantly pressing up and down, fucking her throat with little mercy. His nose flared as a feral sounded noise came from him. However, he began to slow as his balls tightened. His pumping had gone from a rapid and brutal cycle to something a little more controlled. Then finally he slammed her down to the base one final time.

His cock twitched and a loud groan fell from his lips. His balls loosened and all in once a wash of his potent cum erupted from the tip of his cock. He let go of her head after the first pulse went down her throat. Spitfire popped off of his erection gasping loudly for air. She of course abandoned his cock just in time for the second pulse of his cum to spray her in the face drawing a line from the left side of her mouth up to her ear.

The third pulse was shorter in distance and quantity, drawing a bridge across her snout between her eyes. The fourth and fifth pulses of his cock were little more than shudders, causing dribbles of his cum to ooze down his erection. Spitfire was breathing heavily, coughing and hacking up the cumshot that had been launched down her throat. Her eyes were swollen with tears, which drew discoloured marks down her cheeks. Those were joined with the solid white lines of his cum which now painted her orange fur.

Soarin grinned like a cheeky bastard when he watched her wipe away the seed she had hacked up, from her lips. “I guess that’s why they call you Spitfire, and not Swallowfire.” Both of the mares gave him a dirty look.

Fleetfoot who had been watching the whole show got back into the action, using her nimble tongue to lick up the stray strands of cum which slowly oozed down Soarin’s fading erection. She pouted when it flopped onto the couch in a soft state. “Awww are you tired already?”

Soarin let out a feeble sounding sigh as Fleetfoot did a good job of cleaning up after Spitfire’s mess. Her tongue collected every last drop, swallowing them one by one. Finally, his cock was spotless, though completely soft. He looked at Fleetfoot nervously and gave her a single amused note of a chuckle. “Can I have like five minutes?”

Fleetfoot through it over and then slid off of the couch, standing back up on all four of her legs. She paced back and forth for a moment before turning to face the door. Her front legs folded, causing her head to be closer to the ground while her rump remained high in the air. Her tail wagged from side to side, giving Soarin a nice little teaser of her soaking wet cunt. Spitfire also climbed off the bed sitting herself down on the floor next to Fleetfoot’s rump. Her hoof came up and grabbed the tail, pinning it to the side, completely unobstructed Soarin’s view.

Soarin had underestimated just how needy she was as he could now see the desperation in the form of a thick strand of femjuices, oozing down her thighs. Fleetfoot stretched out one of her slender forelimbs under her body before bringing her hoof up to her lower lips. She made a muffled moaning sound as she began to slowly circle her hoof around. The action was clumsy but did the job of stimulating her as a chorus of moans fell from her lips. Spitfire gave Fleetfoot’s rump a little smack causing her to inhale sharply interrupting her siren’s song.

The rounded edge of the front of the hoof began to probe at Fleetfoot’s lips gently parting them. She wasn’t able to get much penetration but with the little she managed she began to move her hoof up and down drawing even more pleasured moans from her mouth. Soarin was mistaken, he didn’t need five more minutes, he was ready now. His erection began to crawl back to life. His cock ached from over use but he managed to get it up as he lumbered onto his hooves. He took a step towards Fleetfoot, a single step but he watched as she tensed from the vibration it caused through the trailer. A grin formed on his muzzle, and when he looked at Spitfire he saw a matching one on her.

He took a step and then another, getting closer and closer to Fleetfoot. Her tail would twitch, or wings ruffle with each step. Spitfire rested her hoof on Fleetfoot’s rump, rubbing it lightly. “Nervous.” She asked the mare about to be impaled, her voice a tad bit raspier than usual.
Fleetfoot snorted and threw her head back. “Soarin’s just a bit more well equipped then the guys I’m usually with.”
Spitfire got a laugh out of that. “Fleetfoot, I am the “guy” you are usually with. I have no problem admitting that Soarin might be a bit bigger than me.”

Soarin climbed over her, his left foreleg resting beside her muzzle, as the right rested upon the back of her head. She whined at this but Spitfire gave her cutie mark a little slap. She tensed up, her rump growing nice and tight. Soarin’s cock rested between her slender flanks, gently grinding against them for a few idle thrusts. His hips drew back, and he aligned himself with her slit. Instead of pressing in, he thrust a bit lower, moving between her teats. He pressed his full length against her underside allowing her to feel just how deep he’d be inside of her. This caused her to give an involuntary excited inhale.

Soarin smiled, looking down at her. “Do you want this inside of you?”

She tried to nod, he could feel it under his hoof. When she couldn’t she replied meekly. “Yes.”

Soarin chuckled, giving his hips a small thrust. It was enough to spread her saliva, and his pre against her belly. “Yes, what?”

She blushed. “Please. Yes, please.”

Soarin was about to pull his hips back and give her what she was begging for but Spitfire held up her hoof. “Let me get in on this.”

Soarin let out a sigh as he was forced to press his erection back against Fleetfoot’s belly. He could feel her let out a shaky breath, obviously she was also looking forward to it as well. Spitfire let go of Fleetfoot’s tail which came back down, thumping Soarin on the hind leg. She stood back up, walking from Fleetfoot’s side to her front. Spitfire smirked at her before sitting down on her hind legs, revealing her own cunt to the two of them. Soarin took his hoof off the back of Fleetfoot’s head instead resting it on the other side of her muzzle.

Fleetfoot had been the bottom of their little threesome for long enough to know what exactly she was suppose to do. She leaned forward dragging her tongue along the edge of Spitifire’s lips, causing her to moan. Spitfire lifted up a hoof and rested it on her belly, taking a nice deep breath as Fleetfoot toyed with her sensitive sex. Spitfire looked up at Soarin and gave him a kurt nod, letting him know it was ok to start.
As Soarin drew his hips back once again, Fleetfoot’s darkened teats caressed the side of his throbbing erection. With his hips drawn back he repositioned himself, resting the tip of his flare against her lower lips. He idly rubbed it against them, spreading his pre as a form of natural lubricant. Then with a small flex of his hind legs he pressed it. His flare was the thickest part and as such it spread poor Fleetfoot nice and wide as he pressed in. The first few inches sunk in with little resistance as a moan erupted from the trio.

Soarin watched as Spitfire reached over and placed her hoof on the back of Fleetfoot’s mane. She held the mare tight against her crotch forcing Fleetfoot’s flat tongue in as far as she could muster. Soarin tried to smile, though his teeth were gritted as he pressed his shaft into Fleetfoot’s quivering form. The mare was moaning even if the noises were muffled inside of Spitfire. Her cunt was soaking, eager to accommodate Soarin’s erection.

He moved forward slowly, until he without warning stopped. Fleetfoot made a surprised noise and Soarin began to draw his hips back. He did so swiftly, stopping only when the tip of his cock was within her. He then began to violate her. He thrusted deep into her, as quickly as he could manage diving back into the point he had previously resided. He allowed her barely a breath before he drew back once more. He thrust again, this time going deeper. He was pressing into her with the subtly of a battering ram, breaking down the tension she put up to resist him.
Each thrust drove deeper and deeper until finally his hips collided with hers in a clap. His balls wobbled heavy under his frame, tense with self-denial. Her walls were tight around his shaft, cradling his sensitive flesh in warmth and lubrication. He needed to stay put, if only for a moment, to stop himself from ruining the session by breaking a humiliating academy record.

Spitfire seemed to be enjoying herself as her blunt teeth bit into her bottom lip. A lewd sounding series of moans descended from her clenched expression. Clearly Fleetfoot was doing an excellent job if she got the captain this flustered. Once he had calmed a little he decided to reward her. He resumed his thrusting keeping his pace nice and quick, swiftly drawing about half of his length in and out of her. Soarin groaned loudly as pleasure webbed through his being.

He progressively fed more and more of his erection into her, his pace a steady constant in the activity. Every couple of seconds he’d draw back and press more and more of himself into her. Until finally he would draw all the way back so that only the head remained within her. The clapping of their flesh against one and other echoed through the room, mixing together with their moans, and sounds of Spitfire being eaten out created an orchestra of depravity. While the music at first appeared to have no rhythm, it was steadily building towards one final climax.

Soarin’s hoof tapped against the ground as he tried desperately to get every little bit of leverage he could to try and drive deeper. His mind was addled from lust, unable to come to terms with the limitation of his own length. He plunged into her as deeply as he could muster his endurance starting to wane and his motions losing the constant rhythm that he had mustered moments early. He traded his speed for power making sure to slam into Fleetfoot’s eager cunt with as much force as he could muster. He was breathing heavily, and Fleetfoot seemed to be enjoying it as her tongue work sent Spitfire into a crescendo of lewd noises.

Soarin leaned forward pursing his lips as he grew closer to Spitfire, presenting himself. Spitfire looked surprised for a moment before she leaned in, reaching over with her free limb. She grabbed Soarin by the back of the head and pulled him into a passionate little kiss. Their lips locked, and her tongue pressed into his mouth claiming the interior as her own. Soarin moaned into the kiss his thrusting continuing to die down, until finally he gave one final powerful thrust into Fleetfoot.

Fleetfoot came first, her walls closing around him like a fleshy vice. Her juices rushed along the underside of his erection. They were warm, and in such a tight space they acted like the much needed lubricant for that final thrust. He plowed nice and deep into her before he blew his load. Being his second of the night it was far less potent in quantity, but it was still enough to fill the mare, and leave enough left over to form a creampie around his cock. Finally, Spitfire shuddered and gasped into Soarin’s mouth. She fell away from his lips, and onto her back as she cried out with one final explicit word, her own orgasm rocking her.

Soarin felt heavy, his knees shaking under his frame. He was breathing raggedly and as he withdrew from Fleetfoot’s tight little snatch, a burst of his thick white seed oozed out of her. It began to trickle slowly down her thigh, creating streaks on her blue fur. Soarin looked at it and let out a nervous little half hearted chuckle. Spitfire also inched back allowing Fleetfoot to take a few cautionary breaths. Soarin fell onto his side and with his two favourite mares just kind of laid there as the exhaustion of love making over took him. He began to slowly move over towards Fleetfoot, embracing her from behind. He kissed her on the cheek and he could feel her relax. Spitfire embraced her from the other side, giving her a kiss on the forehead while offering a warm smile.

A knock came from the trailer door and all three of them looked up. They stayed silent for a moment, praying that the person on the other side would go away. Not only did they not go away but there were three of them as the door opened. The first was Rainbow Dash, flanked on either side by the Cloudsdale cheer squad. She was already beginning to ramble on. “Hey guys I just wanted……”

She paused and her jaw hung agape at the sight of her heroes mingled together on the floor. One of the cheerleaders gave an awkward chuckle and tapped Dash on the shoulder. “I uh think they had the same idea for cheering up Soarin.”

Author's Note

Eh lmao go to my Tumblr thatorangepegasi to get more stories