Those Are The Lights That Never Go Out
I watched as she walked across the room, her wings pinned to her side. My eyes followed her long, sloped advance towards me. Her head was hung; I couldn’t see her eyes.
She had lovely, lovely eyes. Fantastically beautiful eyes—shimmering turquoise, with an inner light that shone with the brightest kindness. Heartwarming when her look was serene, devastating when it was angered. To push such kindness to the limit and have it give way to anger was something truly terrible to behold. Dominating, even; some claimed that the gaze rooted them to the spot.
I know why she didn’t let me see her eyes. I know why she refused to look at me. I knew it, and yet I still felt a small spark ignite in my gut, wrenching at it and demanding justice from her. Now was not that time for it.
She had reached the bed where I sat, hind legs spread, forelegs propped up behind me. Her mane hung limp to one side, a little bit tangled. She had stopped brushing it herself weeks ago, so I took to sitting down with her every few nights to comb it out. I frowned slightly as I looked over her mane, eyeing each tangle in turn.
“We need to brush your mane again,” I said softly, lifting my hoof to touch her mane. She didn’t flinch as she had in the beginning; she was always very skittish about herself, as if she expected every touch to be an attempt on her life. I slowly moved my hoof down her mane into the crook of her neck, gently rubbing there. Her breathing slowly but surely picked up.
“You like that, huh?” She nodded. I smiled at her, and she still did not meet my eyes. The spark began to smoulder, and I could almost feel the fire eating away at me. I opened my mouth, and I could almost see the smoke pouring from between my lips.
“Sit down,” I instructed. She did so, her back facing me. I had a nice view of her ass as she settled into the bed. I bit my lip, trying to contain my smile. That ass of hers was fantastic—beautiful, just like the rest of her, with just the right amount of pudge to fill it out into the most arousing shape I could ever hope for.
I leaned forward, and placed my mouth up to her ear. I gently nibbled on it, closing my eyes as I pushed myself against her back, my forelegs wrapped around her body, hooves resting on her soft, warm belly.
I pushed one of my hooves downward, moving it between her legs. I heard her breathing pick up, accompanied by a small eep! I smiled, treasuring the warmth, the wetness, the silken texture, every last bit of it. I pushed a little harder. She let out a small gasp, but said nothing more. There had been a time when she complained, asked me to be softer. She doesn’t do that any more.
I almost miss it.
There was no time to dwell on that. I buried my face in her mane, my muzzle digging for her neck. Despite its knotted and unkempt appearance, the texture was as smooth as ever. It was like a bolt of expertly spun fabric, thin and as gossamer as a spider’s thread, but stronger than a woven cord of rope. Her warm, soft skin and delicate, vibrant coat touched my lips as I made it past her mane. I gave them a gentle kiss before I opened my mouth, and bit down hard.
She grunted, if one could even call the noise she made a “grunt”. It was more like a barely audible exhale; a sigh, perhaps, but even more detached and defeated than that.
I had hoped for a yelp, or a squeal, or something with more energy. But this was good too. I felt my cock slip from its sheath as I hardened, my erection pressing harder against the small of her back with each heartbeat. My hoof was pushing her vulva far apart, attempting to force its way in. But she was stronger than her appearance would suggest; she managed to keep me out.
“Turn around.” She did not move for a moment. It took me a few seconds to realize why, but when it hit me, I quickly removed my hoof. It was damp with her pussy juice. I used to make a show out of licking it off, but after a while she stopped watching, and even I couldn’t force her to watch. It was too much effort for minimal discomfort.
When she turned around, she kept her head hung low the entire time. Due to the lack of space on the edge of the bed, she rested up against me, her chest pressed against mine. She set her head to rest against my shoulder, pushing herself as close as she could to me. She wrapped her forelegs around me, as I had done to her, but with a grace and care I hadn’t bothered to exude. Our chests pressed together each time we inhaled, first hers and then a second later, mine, just perfectly out of synch.
A weird, leaping sensation was rising in my stomach, clashing terribly with the inner fire I had been stoaking. It felt as though I had shot up to the highest hights my wings would take me to, and was just about to close my wings and take a sharp nose dive directly to the ground. It spread up from my stomach and into my chest, the fire trying and failing to defeat it. It was spreading, bathing me in a warmth like a midday sunray, traveling faster and faster throughout my entire being—
“Get off,” I grunted, hooking my hooves under her chest and pushing her off of me. She said nothing, and I scooted backwards to make room of her on the bed. After a good two or three feet were cleared, I flopped down on my back, craning my upper torso and head upward in the hopes of glimpsing her eyes.
She had already hidden them beneath her mane. Tricky mare.
I reached a hoof forward and bopped my throbbing erection. “You know what to do, don’tcha? I don’t need to tell you what you gotta do now, right?”
She nodded. I thought for a moment I saw a flash of white beneath her mane, the briefest sliver of her eyes... but nothing. I grit my teeth, jaw clenching, but in the next instant I had relaxed. I needed to be patient.
But if I don’t get it, I’ll have wasted all my time, a quiet voice told me from the back of my head.
No, a different, louder, much more savage and bestial voice said. She’ll have wasted all your time.
I grunted, snapped back to reality by the warmth of her mouth on the head of my dick. I looked forward, her eyes fully visible, but closed. I hissed softly, placing one hoof on the top of her head, while I took the other to her cheek. I gently rubbed her cheek as I pushed down on her head with my hoof, getting her to sink lower and lower.
A while back, she had struggled. I had felt so accomplished, so powerful when she did that and I still overcame her. Now she had resigned herself to it, and in a way, I think I had to. Even though it wasn’t nearly as fun, I still did everything I used to.
It wouldn’t be a total waste, anyway. She was phenomenally beautiful, in addition to giving the best damn blowjobs I’d ever had the pleasure of receiving. But if I was going to go, I was going to go hard. I wanted what I wanted, and I knew that I was going to have to take it. Even if she was playing these games with me, even if she figured a way around what I had done, I would still come out the victor.
She couldn’t hide her eyes forever.
A small, almost inaudible glk reached my ears. They perked and swiveled forward, and my eyes trained themselves on where her lips were wrapped around my cock. She had passed my medial ring by about an inch, and now the tip of my cock was pressing against the back of her throat. I shifted my hips, angling them slightly to the side, and then took my hoof from her cheek. Her tongue was resting under my cock, gently pushing side to side. Her teeth were nowhere near my shaft; so many other mares had failed this simple prerequisite for a fantastic blowjob, and yet she never had fallen prey to that pitfall.
A true talent.
I placed my free hoof on her head, just a few inches from where the other one rested. With a small groan, I lifted my hips so that my ass was about an inch from the sheets. At the same time, I pushed down hard with my hooves. Pressure built along the top of my cock as it pressed into the back of her throat. She let out a small, high-pitched whine as I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes, panting slightly as a bead of sweat ran down my forehead.
In an instant, the pressure was relieved, and my cock slid effortlessly into her throat as her muzzle slammed into my patch of pubic fuzz. Her nostrils flared as the fur tickled her nose, but she did not sneeze. She had done that once. It was disgusting. Thankfully, no repeats of the situation had occurred; I was very proactive about that.
My cock throbbed against the inside of her throat, and she swallowed in turn, allowing her throat muscles to massage my length. I smiled, rubbing her mane and scalp with my hooves.
“Good girl,” I crooned. She made no sign that she had heard me. She merely continued to fellate me, seemingly single-mindedly dedicated to sucking my cock.
And there, I finally saw it; with her muzzle pushed deep into my crotch, my cock buried deep into her throat, and my hooves pushing down hard into her scalp, holding her in place, she made eye contact with me at last. The kindness wasn’t there; nor was the anger. It was a defeated, sad look, vacant and endless. I don’t know how long I looked into them; I think I was afraid that if I looked away for even a moment, I’d never see them again. Sometimes her eyes would go so glassy that I could see myself in them. Other times, they burned with tears, her watering eyes so real and desperate I could almost feel myself beginning to cry as well.
Naturally, that’s when I came.
I let out a low moan, so guttural it could almost be more accurately described as a grunt. I could feel a familiar pressure build up to an intense peak and then release all at once as my ass clenched, my tail swatted the mattress, and my balls contracted. A thick jet of my cum shot directly against the back of her throat; another one hit the inside of her cheek as she tried to lift her head up; the third one slipped down her throat as the first had, my hooves pushing her back into place.
I threw my head back, moaning in delight as a wave of abstract pleasure washed over me. The physical release was incredible to be sure, and the exquisite mouthfeel and heat from my lover was certainly a bonus, the true pleasure came from when I looked directly into her eyes. I don’t know why I felt what I did. This wasn't the first time I’d ever felt that, and giving in to that feel was fantastic. My whole body felt as though it were light and glowing, and my mind still felt a little fuzzy from my orgasm. It took me a moment to realize that I hadn’t even finished cumming.
She was dutifully accepting my load in her mouth as best she could, but whether she didn’t want to or simply couldn’t anymore, she had stopped swallowing. I could feel it building up in her mouth, slipping along the side of my shaft or pressing against the flat of my cockhead. A glob slipped from her lips and came to rest on my crotch, leaving a thin trail of seminal fluid and saliva in its wake. Her eyes were swimming as she gave a little retching noise, and her nostrils flared.
The first jet of cum shot from her left nostril; it made little distance, falling flat against her upper lip as if it were merely the product of a weak sneeze. The right jet was thicker, and reached much further, the viscous jism splattering onto her hoof. A thin, but constant, stream of watery seed leaked from each nostril as she lay there, gagging on my dick.
I wanted to look at this masterpiece forever; her cheeks her puffed, lips wrapped around my dick, cum drooling from both her mouth and nose, mane tousled, sweat beading across her face, eyes puffy and red and wide... but alas, I figured she had gone long enough without a breath. I slapped my hooves into her cheeks, and pushed up, wrenching her off my dick. With a wet schlok, she was released, and immediately began to gulp down precious oxygen, coughing and sputtering on my cum and her own spit. I grunted, my cock shuddering in the sudden exposure to the atmosphere. My ears perked and swiveled as I listened to her gasp and hack, desperately trying to recover from my intense deepthroating.
With a grunt that I feel very comfortable calling it as such, I came once more. This time, it was only a few short bursts, but I feel like I put them to good use nonetheless. The first shot landed directly in her mane, plastering it to the side of her face. The second and third went sailing over her head as I bucked my hips upward, my wings outstretched and flapping wildly. They landed square on her left asscheek facing me, seeping down into the crack that began just above her tail.
I looked over her, eagerly drinking in the portrait of a defeated mare before me. Her disheveled mane, her cum-splattered backside, her shuddering chest, her cheeks streaked with the perfect mixture of tears and make-up, her eyes—
I felt my chest go cold, as if my lungs had frozen solid. I tried to breath in, but all that occurred was a strangled, wheezing sound. Those were not the eyes I was used to looking in. They did not reflect what I usually saw. I opened my mouth, gaping soundlessly for entirely too long.
Then it hit me.
I stood to my hooves, wings splaying to the side. She was confused, now. I didn’t care. I couldn’t look in her eyes any longer. I turned from her and bolted towards the door.
“Where are you—”
“I have to go return some books,” I lied poorly. I dashed out of her room, her house blurring and melding together as I charged through it. Next I knew, I had slammed into her front door and shot up into the sky, a few loose, grey feathers drifting behind me. I charged straight upwards, straining against the biting wind and my screaming muscles as I slammed directly into a cloud bank.
I lay there, panting, surrounded by the moist, soft cloud around me. The sensation was not unlike one that I—
“Ngh!” I kicked the cloud hard with my hind hooves, dispersing a good half of it into smaller cloud chunks, which spun away from me into the sky. I slammed my front hooves into the part I was resting on, pummeling and pounding it to bits. Soon, I was hanging alone in the sky, surrounded by a thin film of vapor, my wings pumping reflexively to keep me afloat.
I had been wrong; I had been wrong about everything. I had made the callous, self-serving observations that the lights in her eyes had gone out. I had been so thoroughly convinced of this fact that I denied any possibility of having been incorrect.
Her eyes had shown with a deep, unfathomable kindness, a kindness I could only scratch the surface of. Through the tears I had forced out of her, they glimmered with the light of acceptance and forgiveness... with a light of love. Even after all that I had done to her, for the sake of my own selfish construction of love and an outlet for the most demented lust I could muster, that light continued to shine. She did not see me as I had assumed; she did not fear me; she did not hate me; she pitied me, as the loving often pity those who live without love. She had attempted to give it to me, and I had rejected her in favor of realizing my most incredible physical sensations.
I had hurt her. Of course, of course I had hurt her... that was my goal. I had wanted that. That’s how I got my rocks off, that’s how I felt alive, in the moment, being in full, full, FULL CONTROL. And yet, she was still willing to accept and comfort me, never leaving even when it became a nightly ritual...
Had she stayed beside me this entire time in the hopes that I would give up and give in to her?
I stared down, her cottage a small toy model nestled between the fake plastic trees. If I returned, would she truly forgive me? Had I imagined what I saw? Was I finally losing it completely? Could it be that there was still a defeated, empty mare lying in her bed, ready to continue the cycle for another day?
I hovered there, a thousand feet in the air, my wings the only thing keeping me airborn. It was as though the facade of her defeated, lifeless eyes had been the only thing holding back an absolute deluge of emotion and memories of the things I had done to her, and to Blossomforth before her, and Flitter before her, and...
I looked down at the cottage once more, my breathing slowing from ragged, desperate gasping as my heart calmed. I thought of her, that beautiful mare, and every beautiful mare I had ever met. My wings were beating slower and slower as I ruminated on it longer and longer.
I thought I knew why she wouldn’t let me see her eyes. Now I knew the truth.
All the beauty had broken. There was nothing beautiful about anything. About the way she had stopped bathing except for when I forced her. About the way she never laughed. About the way she spoke. About the way she cultivated that tangled mess of her mane. About the way she quietly and thoroughly accepted and carried through every demand. About the way she averted my gaze...
I closed my own and took a deep breath, my wings folding to my side.
I felt the swooping sensation rise in me again. But it was not the same as before. There was no warmth, no breathing body there beside me, nothing but the cold air rushing past me as I plummeted towards the ground.
