Scootaloo Springs Up

“Fuck, fuck fffuck yesssssss,”

Dash squeezed her breast, arching her back and gasping. Her first orgasm had hit not even 2 minutes ago and she was cresting her third now. Her skin was awash in sweat and the blankets were beginning to dampen. Her hand was a furious blur at her pussy, slipping in and out as deeply as she could possibly get it. The first thing she did when she got home was to excuse herself and lock herself in her room to masturbate.

“Fuck. FUCK! Oh god! Oh holyfuckingshiii-“

Dash bit into her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut –the first two orgasms had hit her like a truck but this was akin to a hurricane tearing her body apart in pleasure. Her mind raced and gave up on coherent thought as Dash thrashed around on her bed, the surging pleasure meeting an orgasmic peak before finally ebbing away after a solid minute.

“Gah!” Dash gasped for air and flopped on her back, leg twitching slightly from the release. The poster of Spitfire stared back at her from the wall. Try as she might, every time she looked at the pin-up, Dash would subconsciously replace the Wonderbolt. It was no use trying to get off to Spitfire anymore. She wasn’t the object of her arousal anymore.

“Unnnnhgh,” moaned Dash, reaching over to the bed-stand and to grab a tissue. That was the best, most intense self session she’d had in her life AND she still felt horny. And guilty. Faced with her mounting arousal she just couldn’t control herself. Impulsive was just one of the top five words she’d use to describe herself, along with awesome, amazing, awe-inspiring and loyal.

Impulsive just happened to be the only negative one.

Rainbow shakily got up and walked over to the small sink in her bathroom to wash her hands. She reeked of her own juices, and so did her sheets. Dash walked over to her bed and flipped the sheets over. The stains weren’t visible anymore but the smell lingered. Tomorrow she’d change the bedspread. Right now, she needed a shower. A cold shower. Rainbow grabbed her towel and her nightwear (a large T-shirt and thigh-cut bottoms) and headed into the hallway towards the kitchen.

“Scoot? You finished eating?” Dash walked into her kitchen and found it empty, a clean plate and fork sitting in the sink next to 4 empty bottles on the counter. Scootaloo had finished supper quickly as always.

The living room was empty as well. Usually if she weren’t in the kitchen Scoot would be lounging on the couch or downstairs in the gym, but the lights were out in the basement. Maybe she went out for a run. Dash shrugged and went down the hallway to use the shower. Rainbow turned the corner to enter the bathroom.

And smacked right into Scootaloo.

“Oof-“ Dash recoiled and dropped everything she was carrying, bouncing backwards awkwardly and falling on her ass. She just walked face-first into Scootaloo’s breasts. Her big, huge, soft jiggling full-out-in-the-open bare breasts. Scootaloo had apparently just finished showering, her body still steaming wet from the shower. There was one comically small white towel wrapped around her waist. Her hips were now so wide that the towel could only effectively wrap around her right leg, the left was bare all the way down, exposing her bulging leg muscles all the way down. The little towel was only held up by Scootaloo’s hand on her hip. The other hand had been straightening a towel wrapped around her head.

Dash looked up at Scootaloo in wordless awe. This was the first time she’d seen her breasts in all their glory. They were big. Huge. Absolutely dwarfing her own. Each one had to be twice the size of her head and were capped by wide, dark areola and thick, erect nipples. Scootaloo bent down to pick up the clothes Dash dropped, her large breasts hanging down pendulously in front of her in the way that only breasts that size could possibly do so, slapping against each other wetly. Once Scoot had draped the PJs over her thick arm, she extended a hand and pulled the smaller woman up to her feet as if she weighed nothing.

“Sorry, didn’t see you down there,” Scootaloo said, her voice a mix between smug and suggestive. She slowly curled her forearm across her expansive bosom, blocking very little.

“I didn’t know you were uh. Y’know. Showering. Or anything,” Dash practically stammered, taking her pajamas back from Scoot.

Scootaloo chuckled, “Yeah. Finished my dinner so I just jumped in the shower. Going to throw on some clothes and head to bed now.”

Dash could not get her eyes focused on Scoot’s face; one of Scootaloo's nipples was not fully obscured. “Yeah,” Dash replied robotically. “Okay, Scoot. My bad for uh, bumping into you.”

“It’s alright,” Scootaloo shifted her weight to one leg, thrusting the bare one out. “Long as you’re okay. Didn’t expect these to knock you to the floor.”

Scootaloo gave ‘these’ a gentle squeeze on that note and let out a soft little moan. Dash felt the blood rushing to her head again.

“See ya later, Dash. Have a good shower,” said Scootaloo, moving past her. Dash had to press herself against the wall to avoid the huge girl, and the undersides of Scoots massive boobs gently swiped the top of her head. She had to have grown even bigger since they got home. Before right now she couldn’t have been that tall. No way. Scootaloo had to be seven feet tall. Or bigger. Dash watched as Scootaloo tilted her head to duck under the hallway door and walk off. Dash figured she must be taller than every member of royalty barring Celestia herself, who was a sight herself at eight feet. Though not nearly as built.

Not nearly as stacked. As sexy.

Dash hopped into the shower and resumed her earlier masturbation session with newfound intensity.

Ten minutes and two orgasms later, Dash finished brushing her teeth and wiped the mirror clean, staring at the flushed, lightly tanned face in the mirror back at her.

“Get it together Dash. She’s still Scootaloo. No matter how big, or how strong... or sexy... doesn’t change who she is.”

Or does it?

“Even if she’s been acting a little different.”

More like a lot different. That way she picked up Sweetie Belle and fingerfucked the living daylights out of her sweet pu-

“Shut up!” Dash grabbed a fistful of her hair and tried to wrestle her thoughts.

What was that she said? She doesn’t care if you saw? She wants you. She craves you. There’s nothing more that you want than to be that position-

"Shutupshutupshutshutup!"

To have that big sexy body embracing your hot sexy body and ravaging you with those strong arms and corded legs and massive ass and enormous jiggling tits-

“UGH!” Dash filled a cup of cold water and splashed it onto her face. It was no use. The whole afternoon and evening had her mind filled with endless lewd scenarios of her and Scoot entangled in some incredibly hot sexual fantasy. The teen was larger than life, and after smacking straight into those huge, soft tits of hers there was no way Dash was going to be capable of unburning that image from her mind. As big as she was, they were not even comparable to Scootaloo’s assets.

At least she could sleep on it.

Dash toweled off and threw on her favorite silk pajamas. They were mostly loose, and even the bottoms hung around her hips slightly. The epitome of comfort. The top was only a little bit tight. Only because she was starting to feel a tiny bit full again. She’d have to empty her tanks in an hour or so.

Drying her hair took forever. After some quick combing she was ready for bed. Dash plodded down the hallway in a daze. It had been an exhausting rest day for her. Right now she was spent and needed a nice relaxing sleep. Dash flicked the lights on in her room and froze.

Scootaloo was relaxing on her bed, reading a Wonderbolts Weekly magazine that was on the nightstand. Her long, strong legs splayed out over the length of the bed and then some, big feet dangling over the end of the bed. The panties she had on were deep red with trim lace along the edges –the spaghetti strap holding it around her wide hips looked as if it were fighting to stay on. Dash felt her mouth go dry when she saw the shirt Scootaloo had on. It was one of her old old shirts that she’d lent her when Scoots first wardrobe had become too small; a faded blue T-shirt with the words ‘eighth wonder’ printed on the front. Scoots humongous breasts were stuffed in so tightly the lettering was cut off at the beginning and end of the phrase. The hem of the shirt stopped at the bottom of her bulging bosom, her very prominent nipples sticking almost two inches out from and clearly defined through the cotton. Small tears dotted the fabric where it was most stressed, and where it wasn't, her bronzed skin bled through the fabric. It looked like the shirt would burst with one deep breath.

It was an incredibly wanton display.

“Scootaloo… what are you doing?” asked Dash, as if she were addressing Fluttershy holding a pile of rattlesnakes.

“Relaxing in bed,” Scootaloo replied casually.

“That’s my bed,” said Dash.

“I know. I can’t sleep on the couch anymore. Outgrew it,” Scootaloo said with an air of pride.

“The guest bedroom is-“

“-still your turtles room,” finished Scootaloo, flipping a page in the magazine and inhaling lightly, causing the shirt fibers to pop near her shoulders.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch in my own place.”

“Didn’t say you had to,” Scootaloo said coolly. “It’s your house. I’m just sleeping in the only place that fits me.”

Dash crossed her arms. “Where the heck am I supposed to sleep?”

“Sleep in your bed,” suggested Scootaloo. “It’s not like this isn’t Queen sized.”

A pregnant pause from the both of them.

“I don’t snore,” Scootaloo added.

Dash broke into a swear. Her couch was fine but she never liked sleeping on it. It was like comparing a bed of nails to fluffy clouds. There was no way she’d get any kind of good nights sleep on that thing. However, the alternative was wracking her conscience. Would she even get sleep laying next to Scootaloo? She’d been in her sights, and her thoughts, more and more often these past weeks. She’d basically just masturbated to her.

The silence seemed to be admission for Scootaloo, who turned off the lamp and patted the spot next to her on the bed. Wordlessly, Dash walked over and climbed into bed. Once she was under the (still slightly damp) sheets, she rolled over on her side with her back to Scootaloo. Even without seeing her, the presence of this huge girl was impossible to ignore; the way the sheets and mattress pulled towards the other side of the bed, the breaths blowing against her hair, she even smelled nice from the shower. Dash bit her lip. How was she going to fall asleep with what amounted to her wet dream right beside her.

The mattress shifted heavily –Dash glanced up to see Scootaloo’s powerful arm, rippling with muscle, sliding over her head to drop the wonderbolts magazine on top of the daring do pile of books on the nightstand.

“Hey Dash?”

“Yeah?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Scootaloo.”

Dash felt her eyes flutter close, and she eventually drifted off to sleep.