The bed creaked beneath their weight, the soft mattress groaning as if in protest as Daring Do pushed the stallion down onto it. She grinned and leaned down to kiss him, aggressively pressing her lips against his. She opened her lips and let her tongue slither out, probing against lips and teeth as if scouting out territory. In response, her target's mouth opened, allowing her entry. She eagerly pressed inside, her tongue dancing against his.
Phillip pulled away, panting. "You're eager to get started," he commented, a grin spreading across his face. In the dim light that filtered through the open windows from the distant stars, his dark gray eyes seem to glow faintly, like a pair of rare pearls at the bottom of the sandy sea.
"You know me," Daring replied, gracing him with a sultry smile. "I'm always eager to get started."
"Right," Phil smirked. "Can't count the number of times you almost—"
Daring leaned up and kissed him again, more to get him to shut up than anything. "I don't know if you noticed, Phil, but we're about to have sex for the first time," she stated in a blunt voice, delivered through a smile she usually reserved for uncooperative informants, a grin not unlike a cat whose prey has just dropped into their lap. "You're kind of killing the mood with your talking."
"Sorry," Phil nodded. "So...what now?"
Daring smirked. "Just relax. Let me handle things."
"Just like I let you handle things in Trotsylvania?"
"I promise," Daring cooed, leaning down and kissing his neck, sucking gently at the skin and eliciting a quiet groan from her partner. "It'll go better than that time."
She began to work her way down his body, kissing his body and massaging his muscles with her hooves. Phillip was built like a snake: solid and smooth, firm as a tree trunk but not immovable. She paused at his chest, which was heaving with heavy, regular breathing. In the dim light, she examined the scars and marks that dotted his body like landmarks on a map. She recognized many of them, slowly running her hooves across the dull red and brown marks. This one, a scratch from a jungle cat in the Mysterious South. That one, a broken bottle from a bar brawl in Lower Chicoltgo. She gently traced her hoof across a reddish patch of burn scarring, and Phillip hissed quietly...
Phillip grunted in pain as she tightened the bandage around his torso. "Easy."
"Relax, you big baby," she chastised him as she replaced the gauze in the first aid kit. Rain battered against the canvas roof of the two-pony tent they were sharing and a distant thunder rumbled. The whistling wind made the trees of the Bluewood forest surrounding them shiver and groan as they stood strong against the barrage. A small battery-powered lantern in the middle of the tent provided illumination.
"You sure you're okay?" she asked as stood to replace the first aid kit in the corner, limping slightly on her right foreleg.
"I'm fine," Phillip replied. "You?"
"I'll be okay," Daring replied. "Those sentries that tried to ambush us won't be, though."
"They know we're here now, though," Phillip pointed out. "They'll be looking for us."
"And we'll be ready for them," Daring replied. She retrieved the crossbow that she had brought with them on their mission. Drawing back the string with the aid of the lever action, she loaded a bolt into the slot. "I'll take first watch. Get some sleep."
Phillip nodded and settled down beneath the sleeping bag cover, closing his eyes to rest. Daring opened up the flap of the tent and started to step out into the rain to guard for any approaching enemies or curious predators.
"Daring?"
Phil's voice made her pause at the threshold, looking back inside at Phil's resting form. "Yeah?"
"Thanks," Phil mumbled, his eyes already closing.
Daring smiled. "What're partners for?" She exited the tent, zipping the flap shut and sealing her partner safe inside its warmth and safety. She proceeded up to a sniper hide she had set up earlier, a nest of grass and leaves in the branches of a nearby tree. There she would stand sentry, and keep him safe throughout the night.
Daring continued to slither down Phillip's body until she reached her destination. His knife was fully unsheathed, all nine inches of black muscle quivering in excitement. Daring studied the male organ in fascination for a moment, then experimentally breathed a stream of warm air onto the skin. Phillip let in a slow, hissing breath through his teeth.
"Be gentle," he warned as she slowly wrapped her hooves around his member, holding it as delicately as if it were an ancient artifact that would crack if she wasn't careful.
"Relax," she silkily whispered in reply, arching her body around his. "Gentle is something I can definitely do."
She slowly slid her hooves up and down his shaft, massaging the throbbing muscle. Phillip moaned in reply, closing his eyes and arching his back in pleasure. Grinning deviously, Daring extended a wing and drew her primary feather across his twitching balls. Phillip squirmed, letting out a half-giggle, half-whine that spoke of delight.
Daring continued to play with her new toy, experimenting with different methods to pleasure him, frequently changing up her strategy: her hooves to make him moan and shiver, her feathers to make him whine and squirm. Precum began to trickle down his member and onto her hooves. Phillip could only move in response to her touch; he was completely helpless, putty in her hooves, and she was loving every second of it.
"A-ah!" he cried out, his hind legs kicking out in spasms as she rubbed his tip with the very edge of her hooves, while simultaneously stroking his sac with her wing. "I'm...oh, bloody hell, I'm gonna..."
But his cry turned into a long, loud groan. His entire member tightened up at once, and then relaxed as he came, long streams of white semen spurting from the tip and onto his chest. He sprawled back onto the sheets, panting as Daring gently rubbed him for a minute longer just to make sure she'd gotten everything out. Once she was satisfied, she lay next to him, her own heart thudding in her breast like a war drum as she watched him.
They lay side by side in the grass beneath a great oak tree, their breath coming in rapid gasps. The sky above them was gray and overcast, the sun hiding behind the thick layers of clouds that were dropping a steady rain upon them. The coolness of the precipitation against their sweat-covered skin was a blessing.
Phillip raised his wrist and studied his watch. "We cut...five seconds...off our run."
Daring grinned. After two months of practice, it now took the pair of them, working cooperatively, just under 40 minutes to run and fly from their shared flat to the Washing River Beach to the Blue Jay Park: from one end of Chicoltgo to the other and back again. Together, they had pushed the edge, and the edge had yielded.
There was one instance that stuck out in Daring's mind. At one point, Phillip had fearlessly leaped off of the roof of an office building that he had climbed. There had been nothing but a thirty-foot drop between him and the pavement below, but he had not hesitated to jump. And she had swooped down and caught him, swinging him onto the next rooftop. He had tucked and rolled as he hit and continued to run without slowing for a moment.
He had jumped because he had trusted that she would be there to catch him, trust that she was not sure that she would put in herself. Recalling that moment, Daring could still remember the sweat-coated texture of his hoof in hers as she caught him, using his own momentum to sling him to safety.
"Great!" she declared, raising her hoof towards him. He blinked at it for a moment, then raised his hoof and bumped it against hers, an expression of comradeship, of trust in one another. Whether here on the ground of hundreds of feet up in the air, the meaning was the same.
She resolved to be worthy of that trust.
The rain continuing to gently pelt against her back, soothing her aching muscles as the grass tickled her skin. A gold-tinged leaf fell from the oak tree and landed on her face. Phil snorted quietly with laughter as she blew it off with a snuff, unable to restrain her own chuckle. The world was quiet around them, and for a moment, they knew peace and satisfaction.
Phillip looked up at Daring, still panting hard, his eyes momentarily unfocused. "Oh," he breathed. "That was ripper."
Daring chuckled and leaned into kiss him on the mouth, licking the sweat away from his lips. "That enough for you?"
The next moment, she let out a soft cry of surprise as Phillip grabbed her shoulders and rolled over, pinning her down onto the mattress. She sank into the sheets—they smelled of a sandy beach at noon—and looked up to see Phillip staring down at her with a grin that made hardened criminals quake in their horseshoes. His eyes glittered like stars, gazing deep into her own orbs of dark purple.
For the sixth time in twenty minutes, Daring found herself flat on her back, staring up at her scowling partner. Her sweat-covered mane clung to her skull, and she growled with every heavy pant.
"Too slow," Phillip chastised, getting up off her. "I could see you thinking that move before you even started."
Daring grunted in frustration as she got back to her hooves. "How did you get to be such a good fighter?"
"I had good teachers," Phillip answered, tossing her a towel so she could mop off her face. "And I learned from every encounter."
Daring wandered over to the edge of the rooftop and sat down. The sun hung over them, casting them in its glow of merciless, strength-sapping heat. Beneath them, dozens of ponies passed by on the sidewalk, all on their way to some important appointment or another.
"Daring, you need to be the best fighter you can be if we're going to do this," Phillip told her, walking over and sitting down next to her. His own form was adorned with sweat, which dripped from his shaggy mane onto the tile roof. "You're good, but you can be better: I know you can."
"Appreciate the thought," Daring muttered ironically, tossing the towel to him.
He dropped the towel aside and looked up at her. "I'm serious, Daring," he replied, his voice more gentle than before. "I've never known you to give up at anything, and I've never seen you do anything less than excel at anything you put your mind to. If you're really serious about this, then I know you're not going to quit now." He tilted his head at her, and she saw something close to a smile flicker across his countenance. "So, are you done?"
Daring was silent for a moment, then grinned at him, rising back up to her hooves. "Not even close."
"Not even close," Phillip hissed, gently sucking at her neck and making her moan. He worked his way down her body, teasing her with light kisses and rubbing her toned, muscular form while being careful to avoid the worst of her scars. He nipped at the joints where her spread, twitching wings met her body, lightly tickling the sensitive skin with his hooves, and Daring had to bite her lower lip to hold back a squeal of pleasure.
Suddenly, she realized that his head was right between her hind legs, gently splaying them open. He hesitated for a moment, as if considering the best way to approach, then leaned in, closing his eyes, and drew his tongue across her slit. Daring shivered at the warm, wet sensation, hissing out a curse in a long, low breath of exhilaration.
Phillip parted her doors open and entered slowly, reverently, like an archaeologist exploring an ancient tomb of some bygone civilization. His tongue explored every nook, every inch of her cave, examining her walls with the same intensity that he would search a murder scene for clues. Daring threw her head back and cried out again, losing herself to the pleasure that he was providing her. His tongue discovered her clit, and he purred into her as he began to polish the little nib with his tongue, treating it with the same care that he would a priceless artifact. Daring squealed again, reaching down and pressing his head into her crotch, as if trying to get him to dig deeper into her.
"Don't...don't stop!" she demanded, thrusting her hips towards the source of her pleasure as she growled. "I'm getting close...rrggh..."
He looked up at her, the smile evident in his eyes, and slowly, deliberately suckled her nib. Daring closed her eyes and let go as a torrent of pleasure rushed through her body, clenching Phillip's head between her legs, unintentionally forcing him to drink up her cum. His eyes widened in shock for a moment, then closed as he purred into her, adding to her ecstasy.
Once she was finished, she lay back on the bed, breathing slow and deep to try to bring her skyrocketing pulse back down. Phillip climbed up on top of her; something warm and hard gently rubbed against her thighs and she grinned.
"Do you ever get tired?" she sighed, grinning up at him.
"Not when there's something important to get done," Phillip replied. He set himself up over her, chest-to-chest, face to face. "You taught me that."
"Right, I di—" Daring's speech was cut off with a squeal of mingled pleasure and surprise as Phillip thrusted into her. His knife penetrated deep into her cavern, her interior walls clutching around his length for a moment. He slowly pulled up, then thrusted again, grunting quietly as he did so. She wrapped her hooves and her wings around his body, hugging him close.
The world spun around them, gravity seizing them in its cruel grasp as it tugged them down the steep hill. The ground vanished from underneath them, and they both fell for a moment before crashing into the river, vanishing beneath the surface. Immediately spreading out their limbs, they paddled for the surface, that glimmering sheet of light above them that cut through the murky, dark green liquid, even as the currents of the river pulled them further downstream.
Daring bobbed to the surface, gasping in the cool mountain air. Immediately, she crashed into a rock, careening off into deeper waters and nearly falling back below the water again. The stinging coldness of the water exacerbated the pain of injuries; her damaged wings screamed every time they were pulled by the rushing waters, and she forced herself to cling them to her sides. Struggling to stay afloat, Daring looked frantically around for her partner. "Phillip?" she called out. "Phillip!"
"Daring, hang on!"
Phillip was in the midst of the rushing, foam-tossed water, allowing the current to guide him towards her. He reached her and grabbed onto her, pulling her body into his in an attempt to shield her. She clung to him, both of them finding comfort in each other's touch.
As they passed a low-hanging tree, Phillip lunged up and grabbed a branch in his teeth, kicking furiously for the shore. Daring's hooves found solid ground, and she heaved them both out of the current. They sprawled on the bank, panting and shivering, both of them still clinging to one another.
"Y-you s-saved me," Daring declared, her teeth chattering.
"I th-think we s-saved each other," Phillip answered.
They lay there for several minutes longer, feeling safe and warm in each other's arms.
Slow and deep. Fast and shallow. Hard and heavy. Whatever rhythm Phillip chose, it was exactly what Daring needed, maximizing her pleasure, bringing her closer and closer to her climax without wearing her out. Their voices mixed together, a chorus of grunts, swears and cries. Phillip's balls slapped against Daring's thighs with a wet thudding noise that punctuated their carnal conversation.
"I think—" Phillip grunted, straining as he thrusted into her. "I'm almost—"
"Harder!" Daring ordered through her teeth. "Harder, I want it!"
He pushed into her once, twice, three times more, then arched his back as he released. His warm liquid pooled inside her caverns, filling her up with its heat, and her dams broke as well; her back arched off the mattress and she had to bury her face into the pillow to muffle her cry. Thick, off-white liquid spilled from out of her and onto the sheets, becoming a sticky puddle between their legs.
Phillip finally collapsed onto her, panting. She loosened her tight embrace on his body, stroking his heaving back. She could feel his rapid, steady pulse, both in his chest and in his prick. The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving them exhausted and deeply content from their lovemaking.
After a minute of catching his breath, he stirred and kissed her on the lips again, gently, sweetly. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Daring replied, kissing him on the nose. Those simple words carried so much weight—all the time spent in ignorance, all the years that they'd spent apart—carried them away and into the past, where they could not harm them anymore. There was only this and now, one and the other.
Phillip lay down on his side, gently snuggling her close and pulling the sheets up over them both. He tucked his head onto her head, inhaling the scent of her mane: sun-kissed exotic flowers and forgotten corners of ancient worlds. Smiling, he closed his eyes and was quickly asleep.
Daring nestled her head against his chest, wrapping her wings around his body to hold him close. Slowly, one limb at a time, she allowed all tension to leave her body and let sleep take over her.
Sleep was eluding her. Whether it was the rain and thunder assaulting the window or the lingering pain of her injuries, something had chased the Sandpony away, leaving Daring tossing and turning on her mattress, unable to rest in spite of her exhaustion.
The sound of faint music intruded on Daring's senses. Sitting up in bed, she looked to the slightly open door of her room. The low, humming tones were coming from the other side. Curious, she got up out of bed and opened up the door.
Phillip was laying across the old couch in the sitting room, an old saxophone in his hooves. The brass instrument was slightly dented and faded from use, but it was still polished brightly and proudly, and it functioned as well as the day it was first played. Phillip's eyes were closed as his hooves slowly floated up and down the keys, commanding a simple, soulful tune from the shaped brass.
Daring stepped forward, and cursed as the floorboard creaked beneath her hoof. Phillip stopped, his eyes opening and facing her. "Did I wake you?" he asked, his tone regretful.
"No," Daring replied, walking over and curling up on the cushioned chair opposite. "Keep playing."
"Really?" Phillip blinked in surprise.
"Yeah," Daring answered. "I kind of like it. Play something soft, that might help me sleep."
Phillip stared at her a moment longer, then lay back on the couch, closing his eyes once more. Raising the reed to his lips, he began to play a quiet, flowing song that washed over Daring like the waters of a gentle spring stream. She closed her eyes, nestling into the warmth of the chair and allowed the music to carry into the land of content dreams.