Party of Two

It was called sky dancing.

And Rainbow Dash was becoming obsessed. Cerulean wings soared through the ether, wind currents sailing and lifting up the pinions of the Pegasus who paddled through the sky like it was an ocean. Her flight path was straight right up until she shot upwards and spiraled.

What made it sky dancing, the "ballet of the clouds", was the way she twirled in a vertical direction, standing suspended between heaven and earth, her wings spread outward. She did a pirouette, cursing softly when a gust of wind knocked her off course. She was thrown onto her back and righted herself with an effort of will. The vertical positioning was not something her muscles were used to. They screamed in protest each time she attempted it. Her wings wanted to angle downward, to pull her back down to the earth.

She grit her teeth. Mastering the art was her new goal, just like she had mastered every other flying art. Her wings scooped up the air as she floated. A warm thermal coursed through the sky, brought relief to her wings. It was like a cooling balm when it spread over her pinions.

After a few seconds of coasting along on the thermal, she dived downward in a corkscrew pattern. A river of sweat broke out on her forehead, the winds crashing in her ears, blowing her ears back, throwing the strands of her mane in every direction. Once more she broke her spin and triumphantly stood in midair, trying for another pirouette. The muscles of her legs and back burned with the exertion of the unfamiliar movement of turning in air.

Spitfire did this every morning. On that information, Dash had concluded that Spitfire was insane. A grunt came from her parted lips. A few drops of sweat fell from her tail, splattered down onto the green grass below. It just didn't feel natural. She turned again, picking up speed. Her wings flowed with the movement, not nearly as jerky as the first time. A grin crossed her face.

You can do this! She spun once more, cool air breezing around her with each twist through the air. Three spins and then she lept as if off an invisible platform. When she landed a few feet away she held her wings open and lifted one hoof upward, another downward.

Her wings trembled with the effort of staying in that position. She rocketed upward, not as part of the routine, but with jubilation that she had gotten through it.

All she needed to do now was to do it again and do it perfectly this time! She wiped away a sheen of sweat and pushed herself forward, righting herself into that growingly familiar standing position, her wings unfurled as far as they would go. There she stood for a few seconds, the tips of her wings trembling, muscles aching, trickles of sweat dripping down her fur.

The air swished as she sliced through it, her wings cutting like flat, blue blades through the sky. A sense of vertigo nearly overwhelmed her, the sky seeming to spin around her head, but she closed her eyes and just felt the strands of her magic which weaved her soul, bound it to the heavens with thousands of invisible strands.

At the peak of her vertigo, she extended one wing, turned it, felt the pulling of the appendage, turned and snapped out her other wing in order to balance herself. She repeated the technique, again and again, so many times a sense of dizziness was starting to flood her.

She breathed in an out, snapped open her left wing just as she closed her right wing, turned on her heel, maintained the pose until her wings were quaking.

No breaks. Spitfire didn't take breaks. The air cradled her as she whirled through through the abyss. The currents of the blue void washed over her. With every spin, her wings beat up a gale that she used as leverage to turn again, her body falling into the inertia.

It took an act of effort to break that inertia, pause, return to it.

Turn.

Pause.

Twist.

At some point she got the pattern. At the end of five turns, she flared out her wings, held them out. She stopped there for a moment, every part of her body quaking, begging for rest. A bead of sweat stung her eyes.

No rest. Spitfire didn't rest.

She extended her forelegs, spun her right wing, her body following the appendage and spun one final time. She pulled her left wing out, angled it to the side, spun to the left, snapped it close, snapped her left wing open, swirled in the air. Her mind was solely focused on the move, every muscle under the control of her burning will.

There was that place every athlete sought-the place beyond tiredness. There was an ancient Pegasan word for it that Dash couldn't remember.

She kicked off the spin, her wings whirling faster than the eye could see, streams of air rushing through her pinions, her entire body thrown into the twist-

and she felt it. Blood rushed to her head, her heart slammed against her chest, adrenaline flooded her body, strength and power filling her.

Whatever her ancestors had called it escaped her, but she felt it.

There was no burning tension in her muscles. There was only her will ruling her body, only the sensation that she was at once one with the sky that was her heritage.

The moment lasted as she flared her wings in a full arc, thrust out her front legs, her right positioned higher than the left. Her breath left her in great, shuddering gasps. She shook her head, licked her teeth to make sure she wasn't hitting the point of froth.

Wetness covered her lips. That was her sign to stop. Her heart was a staccato tapping against her rib cage. Her throat was a desert. Her ears twitched as she caught the excited cheering far below.

A pink speck was hopping up and down. Dash flew towards it. Pinkie was garbed in a yellow and blue striped cheer leading outfit, waving blue pom-poms. "Go, Dashie!"

Dash smiled and darted downward, sweeping Pinkie up in an embrace. The pom-poms fell to the ground, Pinkie's tinkling giggles floating. She threw her forelegs around Dash's neck and planted a kiss on her cheek. "That was so awesome! You were all wooshy! So cool!"

The wild, verdant meadow crawled with green fingers until it reached the town of Ponyville, which couldn't be seen from where they were. All that was in sight for miles was the blue bowl of the sky and the meadow, an endless canvas. A few white dandelions-the first of spring-popped up. Warmer days were nearing. The fluff of the dandelion drifted by in lazy puffs.

Dash drifted over the landscape, still holding onto Pinkie. Pinkie kept a firm hold over her. They ascended over the valley, farther and farther. No matter how far they went, Dash maintained her tight grip on Pinkie, her wing beat steady and constant. Pinkie curled closer to her chest, as if wanting to dissolve into her.

Dash grit her teeth. Pinkie cocked her head. "Something wrong, Dashie?"

"Nothing." Her lips turned up.

Pinkie frowned. "I can tell a fake smile, Dashie."

Her forelegs trembled. Pinkie tightened her grip. Dash quickly readjusted her hold over her. "Seriously Pinks, it's nothing. Training makes me tired."

"Hmm, alright." She nuzzled her head beneath Dash's neck. "You've been training a lot lately."

"Yeah, I've been trying to learn this awesome flying art."

"I know. It's so cool!"

Beneath them, a patch of dandelions exploded into a white cloud which rose around them, dispersed by the power of Dash's stride. Pinkie peppered a kiss on Dash's nose. "I don't like my wife being tired. You can put me down."

"I like carrying you."

Pinkie pouted. "I don't want you to hurt your arms."

The dandelion fluff fluttered all around them, some of it getting tangled into Pinkie's cotton candy curls and Rainbow's rainbow locks. A few yellow petals interspersed among the white. Purple flowers peeked their heads among the emerald carpet. They were not fully grown, but shyly gazed up at the couple from among the grasses.

Dash chuckled. "Come on. I lift weights everyday. You don't eat that much pie."

Pinkie punched her lightly on the shoulder. Dash wobbled, Pinkie threw her forelegs around her. "Seriously, put me down!"

Dash glided down to the ground, her four hooves sinking into the good earth. Pinkie hopped out of her grip, gripped Dash's withers. Dash rolled her eyes, but didn't protest. Pinkie guided her through the meadow, going at a slow pace. Orange headed and red headed flowers swished around their legs.

Dash leaned against her. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

Pinkie hmmed. "Look in my saddle bag. I've got some water."

Dash flipped open the bag and pulled out a canteen. She unscrewed it, lifted it to her lips. The water flowed down her throat. She capped it when she was done and placed it back in the bag. "Thanks, Pinkie."

They strolled through the grasses. Dash paused to stretch out her forelegs.

Pinkie gave her a concerned glance. "I'm glad you're doing something that makes you happy, Dashie."

The grasses came up to their pasterns. Each step of their hooves trod down the layers of vegetation. A sweet scent lifted up from the floor of the meadow. Somewhere, in the far distance, birds sang. Ponyville was coming closer into view, but a long emerald sea yet separated them from the little town.

Pinkie wouldn't let go of Dash's shoulder. Dash pulled away slightly, eliciting a little frown from her partner. They crossed out of the flowers and Dash pulled away completely to spread out her wings. Pinkie observed the wings closely, even daring to reach out to graze against them.

A hiss of pain escaped her lips. Before Dash could do anything to respond, an iron grip was placed against her shoulders. She couldn't escape, a situation that activated her instinctive fear of confinement.

Pinkie nuzzled her. Dash relaxed. The squirming stopped and she felt herself be drawn towards the other Pony. She didn't resist, brushing her fur against her side. Their hoof steps fell into rhythm together. The land shifted beneath them, little hills lifting up.

They crossed over the hills and the land flattened out again.

An asphalt road, recently paved, led into the still rustic town. They walked down the still dirt roads. Thatched roof cottages rose up on either side, many of them brightly painted. The fences which separated the cottages from each other were covered in young vines. There were little sprouts peaking from the freshly tilled land, little buds sprouting from the trees.

Dash laid against Pinkie's side. The farther into town they got, the further she inched away from her, unconsciously puffing out her chest, positioning her wings so they were just at her sides, not wrapping around her in a self-comforting behavior, standing straight on her four hooves.

Pinkie rolled her eyes. "Brr, Dashie. It's still a little cold isn't it? Yep, feels like a winter breeze."

It was at least seventy degrees and she still had her fluffy winter coat. Nonetheless, no sooner had she said it than a warm wing laid itself on her shoulders, drew her close. Pinkie snuggled against her. "Thanks."

"No problem, Pinks."

Pinkie dug her nose into Dash's coat. "Hmm, you smell nice."

"So do you, Babe."

Pinkie kept her nose buried in that place. "You're in pain."

"It's nothing a cool bath won't fix."

"You went overboard didn't you?"

"When you come to bed, covered in flour and exhausted, I never say you went overboard."

Pinkie pranced. "But I do and I do it a lot! That's how I know you did."

Dash rolled her eyes. "What'cha gonna do about it?"

"Take you home and give you a massage and a bath!"

She snickered. "No, not that!"

Pinkie leaned close to Dash's ear. "That's just for starters."

Shivers ran up and down Dash's spine. She allowed herself to be pulled along towards the colorful gingerbread house that was Pinkie's place of employment and where they were crashing until they got their own place. Pinkie pushed open the door.

Mr. Cake at the counter waved to her. "Hi, Pinkie. You can't stay away even on your off day, huh?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Well, I do live here! And I'm having a Pegasus emergency!"

Dash shot Mr. Cake an apologetic smile before Pinkie pulled her across the hardwood floor. Dash clopped along the floor, trying to keep up with the pink pony pulling her along. Attempting to fly was no good as each time she flared her wings they ached.

She hated to admit Pinkie Pie was right, but...well, Pinkie Pie was right. Pinkie hummed a tune as she bounced up the stairs. Dash launched into the air while Pinkie tugged her along. When she held her wings out without flapping them, there wasn't as much pain.

She let Pinkie tug her along with one hoof like she was a Pegasus shaped balloon until they came to her bedroom. Dash disembarked into her room. Pinkie ushered her onto the sheets, which were checkered between light and dark green, balloons ornamenting the checks. Pink and yellow balloons were tied to the bedpost.

Dash herself had been tied to the bedpost on occasion, but she had a feeling Pinkie had a different plan in mind today. She rested into the blanket. The softness cradled her. Sleep nearly claimed her. Her wings splayed out onto the surface of the bed and she placed her chin onto the pillow.

This was nice.

What came next would be nicer. She laid there, expecting the feeling of soft hooves to descend on her tired, aching body. They didn't come. Not yet. Her ears twitched at the sound of Pinkie crossing the floor. The door to the bathroom creaked open.

This was followed by the creak of cabinet doors, the clinking of bottles. Dash didn't bother to look up to find out what Pinkie Pie was doing.

The first touch was the barest meeting of hoof onto the fur of her back. The hoof trickled down, was joined by a second hoof. The smell of menthol filled the room. Pinkie poured the substance from the jar onto her hooves, set the jar onto a night stand, reached down, kneaded Dash's shoulders.

Dash adjusted herself. Pinkie trickled streaks of the cooling lotion all down her back, swept back up. The menthol worked deep into her muscles. Pinkie's breath caressed her ear. "You like how that feels?"

Pinkie made a path between her wings, focusing on a twisted knot of nerves. She laid her hooves on the area, pressed the menthol into it. The knots unraveled beneath her touch. She laid a kiss on the spot. The sting of menthol tingled against her lips.

She placed a second kiss just below the first. Her lips left a trail of butterfly touches, just barely fluttering over her spine. She took a patch of fur at the end of Dash's spine between her lips, applied a hint of pressure. Her reward was a shudder that passed through the Pegasus. She laid a kiss where she had bitten, another shudder rippling through Dash. She felt the vibrations of the shudder beneath her lips.

She moved up, flicking her tongue on the spot right above Dash's spine, suckling it. She laid her hooves on Dash, rubbing the oil deeper into the tired muscles. The oil spread over the surface of Dash's back, matting the fur. Pinkie bent down low, lapped at the oil. She suckled Dash's neck, licked. "Have you ever been given an old fashioned bath?"

"N-no." Dash managed that between shallow gasps.

Pinkie started from Dash's neck, pressing a kiss to her nape, suckling the skin between her teeth, the softest of love bites. Dash squirmed. Pinkie moved about an inch lower, took another patch of skin to suckle it.

"Oh!"

Pinkie giggled at her squirming wife. She pressed Dash's sides, dug in. Dash started to giggles, giggles that turned to guffaws when Pinkie started running up and down her sides, locating all of her most ticklish spots. While still tickling her, she kissed the ridges of Dash's spine, laying kisses up and down.

She flicked where she had kissed, drawing long, slow licks all over Dash's back until she deemed it clean. Dash squirmed and kicked. Pinkie nipped her thigh. "You mustn't kick during your bath. You want a spanking?"

Dash drummed her back legs. "Yes."

Pinkie lightly slapped her tushie. "Bad filly."

Dash snorted. "You call that a spanking?"

Pinkie's breath was warm and wet on Dash's ear. "Does Auntie need to get the paddle?"

Dash stuck out her tongue. Pinkie stood. Dash whimpered. "C-Come back."

Pinkie stroked her mane. "Don't worry. Auntie's gonna make those buns warm and toasty."

She opened a drawer on her bedside table, pulled out a plain, wooden paddle. Dash slid off the bed, pressed her chest into the mattress, lifted her bum. Pinkie patted her posterior, thought about how strong her Pegasus was. She was one who had fully imbibed the lessons of a warrior culture from foalhood. She had trained her body to its peak and mastered the javelin, the spear, the sword, wingblades and many different schools of martial arts from Pegasus Air Boxing to Griffhallan Krik'nar.

Rainbow Dash was not a weak or vulnerable Pony. Pinkie gave her lover's bum a second pat. For her, she could be vulnerable. Of course, Pinkie hadn't understood when Dash had asked her for a spanking the first time. But, it made her happy. Who was she to judge?

Besides, it was fun for her to. She steadied the paddle, brought it down with a hard clap of wood against rump. Dash barely flinched. Pinkie quickly brought down another spank. Dash cried out, Pinkie swung the paddle across her behind. Dash kept her rump propped up as the paddle fell down on her backside.

Warmth was seeping into Dash's bottom, each pop of Pinkie's paddle stoking flames. Pinkie rhythmically popped her bottom with whacks from the paddle. She paused, kissed the heated flesh, drew back for another swing. This one was particularly firm, leaving a red mark and making her cry out.

Tears sprung in her eyes and another hard spank caused her to release those tears. It was alright for her to cry. It was a spanking, so it was alright for her to cry. The tears fell down, each smack of the paddle onto her bottom bringing more tears down.

She whimpered and cried at the barrage of spanks raining down on her backside. Pinkie dragged the paddle along the warm flesh, spanked her. Dash cried out a long sob. Pinkie almost stopped, gave her lover a few seconds before slapping the paddle onto her bottom.

Dash buried her face in the sheets, cried without shame. Cried without any embarrassment. Pinkie beat the paddle against her bottom like it was a drum. Suddenly she stopped and Dash felt the soothing sensation of Pinkie petting her sit spot. "Are you going to be good and let me give you the rest of your bath?"

Dash sniffled and blew a raspberry, earning a final swat. Pinkie put the paddle aside, laid a kiss on her soundly punished bottom. The kiss turned into a lick which wiped away the sweat covering her heated backside.

The saliva left behind by Pinkie's tongue cooled down the heat. Dash rubbed her hind legs together. Pinkie bathed her thighs with gentle pecks.

"What's wrong Dashie?"

"You sk-skipped a spot." She managed to pant. The heady scent of arousal emanated from her sacred regions.

"Shh, I'll get to your wings."

The appendages in question were throbbing. "N-not what I was talking about." She flattened out on the bed. "That'd be nice though."

Pinkie straddled her before drizzling a rain of kisses on her right wing. She explored the wing, pushing her muzzle into the cloud of blue feathers, plucking at the broken ones. Twisted feathers were put back in place. She brushed the wing before moving onto her left wing.

Like its partner, the feathers covering this limb were twisted, turned in unnatural directions. Pinkie nosed between the feathers, plucking out one that was broken which caused Dash to whimper. Pinkie soothed away the pain with a brush of her lips against the now empty socket. A pleased sigh came from Dash's lips. Pinkie brushed the wing a few times. "Turn over."

Dash obeyed, rolling over and revealing her tummy. Pinkie suckled her throat, resting her mouth on the vibrations. The pink curls of her mane spilled out on Dash's chest while she made a road of smooches from her neck to all the way down, inching ever closer to the place between her legs. Dash made gasps and wines of pleasure. "P-please, Pinkie!"

Pinkie washed away the dirt and grass clinging to the back of her hooves. "Patience." She cleaned the squirming mare's front hooves. Hot, breath washed over her pasterns. Dash spread her back legs wide, jerked as Pinkie just lightly brushed her inner thighs. The thigh was strung tight. Pinkie nuzzled the area; the muscles unclenched. She pressed her cheek against Dash's throbbing vulva. Strands of her mane fell and tickled it, making Dash gasp with ecstasy. Her mind was nearly gone, submerged in pure sensation.

Pinkie covered her marehood with strokes from her tongue and Dash was pushed over the edge, her consciousness drowned in waves of joy. The waves rocked through her very core, sending every nerve on fire, finally passed through her. She collapsed into the bed.

Pinkie nestled beside her. Dash grinned and cuddled beneath her neck. "I love you."

Pinkie curled herself around Dash. Dash pounced on her, pushing her onto her back. "Let me show you just how much I love you."

The first kiss that Dash laid on Pinkie's neck was a hot, searing, tingling pressing of her lips on Pinkie's fur. Pinkie moaned as Dash suckled.

Dash trailed her tongue along Pinkie's collarbone, kissed them. "I love your voice."

She kissed her chest, nestled against the beating of Pinkie's heart, lingering there. "I love your heart. It's the biggest heart in all Equestria."

Pinkie giggled when Dash's lips graze along her belly. "I love your tummy."

She rose slightly, picked up Pinkie's right hoof, anointed it with a kiss. "I love your hooves."

Pinkie broke out into giggles while Dash licked at her hooves. She deemed the front hooves cleaned, slid down to smooch her back hooves. She lapped at the soles of them, placed pecks all the way up her right thigh, stopped short. Pinkie gasped. Dash drew a path down her left thigh. Pinkie jerked, moaned.

Dash buried her muzzle into Pinkie's snatch and Pinkie cried out barely coherent shouts of pleasure while Dash drank up the juices which flowed like wine from her vulva. Dash made a ring of kisses around Pinkie's love button before finally pressing it. It was like jolts of electricity running up and down Pinkie's spine, a tingling rushing through her, enveloping her in joy.

After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. Shivers broke out all over her body and she rested her head on the pillow. Dash decided to use her cunny as a pillow. "Pinks?"

Pinkie stroked her mane. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, that was kinda rushed wasn't it?"

"Nah, it was...it was perfect. You're perfect."

"You make me wait for it. Wish I could...but I get too excited."

"Come up here."

Dash did and was immediately embraced in Pinkie's forelegs. "Look, Dashie, that was perfect. Anytime, we're together, it's perfect."

The lovers snuggled close together. Dash said nothing, only nuzzled underneath Pinkie's chin. "I love you."

Pinkie squeezed her tight. "I love you to."