Vinyl's Alone Time

by errant

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, DJ P0N-3, Anthro, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Porn
Length: 2286

Vinyl Scratch enjoys some mindless self-pleasure.

Bored and unable to find any better distractions, Vinyl resorts to the joys of self-pleasure and fantasy to entertain herself.

Contains: Solo, Masturbation

Published 2018-02-13 15:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-02-13 15:50:06 UTC

Chapter 1

Vinyl sighed in frustration and flopped back onto her bed, heedless of the dozens of records, CDs, and other assorted detritus that was strewn across it. Her red eyes bored into the screen of her phone while she sluggishly scrolled through it with one finger. Everything that came to her attention was swiftly dismissed. Songs she’s already heard. Stupid videos that she wasn’t about to waste her time clicking on. Ads. She sighed again. Dear merciful Celestia, how could the collective virtual existences of hundreds of ponies be so dull?

After the sixth time she closed and reopened the exact same app, she gave up and tossed the phone onto the bed beside her. She stared vacantly into space, looking at nothing in particular. The urge to do something was growing, but there was nothing for her to really do. Her friends and usual partners in crime were all busy working or doing their own things and even her own musical passions were feeling dimmed. Sure, she could clean up her room or work on a new song, but the spark just wasn’t there at all. In a word, she was bored.

Fortunately, nature had equipped her to survive such trying times. With nothing left to do, she had one reliable standby, one that never failed her. Her hands gravitated to her chest, tugging down the zipper of her pullover. A quick couple of tugs at her cleavage line and bra freed her breasts from the layers of clothing constraining them. As they were uncovered and pulled loose, a certain sense of constriction evaporated. She savored the sensation of her boobs hanging free and proud, unrestrained and unrestricted. Truly, one of life’s greatest pleasures was a pair of liberated boobies.

She cupped them in her palms. Not squeezing or playing with them, just holding them gently. They were so delightful to get in touch with. Firm yet squishy, warm and soft, they were nature’s toys. Simply holding them was somehow calming.

Of course, she couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly over her nipples or tracing circles around the darker flesh of her areolas. The cool metal of her piercings made a marked contrast with her warm skin, and the small barbell shapes had only heightened her sensitivity since they were put in. In a weird way, their constant presence was like a continuous reminder of her own body, of her sexuality, that got carried with her everywhere and was always with her.

She tugged lightly at the bar, eliciting a moan from the tingly pleasure spreading through her. All of this attention being paid to such a sensitive area was sending tickles of arousal into the rest of her. Still, she kept her focus firmly on her chest, not willing to hasten things along by exploring other parts of her body just yet. There was plenty of joy to be found in stimulating her nipples: she pinched, pulled, flicked, and rubbed the protruding nubs until soreness started to set in and the fun waned.

Abandoning her breasts for the moment, she tentatively slid a hand under the line of her pants. She found exactly what she was expecting; her arousal had peaked enough to start her leaking and her panties had an obvious wet spot right in front. A few wiggles of her hips shrugged her pants completely off, and her panties were promptly divested as well. The room’s slightly cool air caressed the tender flesh of her labia, contrasting with the warmth inside her.

The stained panties themselves she flung unceremoniously off into the room somewhere, to become future Vinyl’s problem. The current Vinyl had her mind locked onto a single goal that overrode everything else.

She gingerly sank one finger into her slit, taking it slow. There was no need to hurry, after all. Being already fairly wet, there was little resistance and it slipped in without resistance. Once it was buried up to the first knuckle, she crooked the finger and swirled it around. Rather than savor the feeling, she withdrew the probing finger and held it up to her face. Moisture glistened on it, reflecting the light of the room with a distinctive sheen. She admired the evidence of her arousal with a strange sense of pride. In a way, it proved how good she was at pleasuring herself.

Entranced by the way the light played off of it, she opened her mouth and slipped the finger and its salacious coating inside. She shivered as the fluid touched her tongue, leaving a distinctive flavor behind. Absently, she ran the slightly rough surface of her palms against her nipple. Popping it out of her mouth, she licked her lips thoroughly to ensure that none of her fluids were left behind. Some mares thought it was kind of weird to taste yourself, but she loved it. If you didn’t like your own flavor, how could you expect anypony else to?

Alright, time to get a little more serious, she thought. Her hand moved down her body, tracing her stomach and mound before brushing against the little nub of flesh hidden above the entrance to her marehood. With a force of will that almost ached, she passed it by and left it alone with a silent promise to return to it. The same index finger, now joined by her middle finger, slid their way back inside. Once they were fully inserted she started to allow them to rove, tickling at her inner walls. The gentle pressure of her fingertips sent flutters rippling through her stomach.

There was an art form to self-pleasure, she had learned. If all you wanted to do was get off, that took no real skill. Literally everyone figured it out at some point. To turn a few minutes of enjoyment into a more potent experience, though, took some work. She kept the motions of her probing fingers slow and deliberate. Focusing her will on the end goal, she ruthlessly crushed down the base instinct inside her crying out to just start rubbing and thrusting and not stop until she was spent. The fluttery feeling inside her intensified with every passing moment, creating a sensation that felt like a big ball of heat and pressure. She focused on that feeling, letting it become the center of her world. Instead of giving it a way to escape, she nurtured it, stoking the heat with her self-exploration. When it rumbled like a slumbering volcano, she backed off and let herself cool off a little. When it quieted down, the stroking and fingering resumed.

The muscles of her thighs and stomach felt strained as if they were physically holding all of her arousal inside her by sheer force. Like any force held under constraint, it constantly pushed back against its prison, seeking any weak place by which it could escape. Vinyl, eyes screwed shut and the occasional grunt of effort and moan of pleasure escaping her, strove to hold it in at any cost. Denying the release might be agony now, but every second she delayed the inevitable made it all the sweeter.

Her body cried out for release in a chorus that escalated with every moment. She fought back against the overriding instinct to do what was easy and natural and felt good. She wasn’t aiming for “good,” though. She was aiming for “amazing.” It would be so simple, too. A little attention in just the right place and it would all be over in a flash. The entirety of her will bore down, slamming that demanding inner need into a dark closet of her mind until she chose to let it out.

By now her marehood was long past being wet. Her fluids leaked out like water overflowing a dam, leaving cool spots on her thighs and a puddle between her legs. Like almost everything else, the sopping mess was thoroughly ignored. At least, until she finished herself off, it just didn’t matter.

As the hands of the clock ticked away the minutes filled with teasing and denial, the tide of the battle started to shift. Her focus wavered and several times she found herself unconsciously speeding up or reaching for her clit, only to jerk herself back at the last minute. In a last-ditch effort to hold on, she rolled over onto her side and curled up into a ball, knees pulled inwards to her chest. The position helped her clench all the muscles of her core at once, literally trying to squeeze the force of her horniness back inside her instead of letting it escape.

It was a futile endeavor, though. A shudder ran through her entire body, from the soles of her feet to the tip of her horn, and her breath caught in her throat as the inevitable happened and she lost her struggle with her own body. She could deny herself no longer. She had fallen past the balance point and there was no more delaying the inevitable.

Now that she wasn’t holding back any longer, she went to work on her clit. She gasped and twitched at the touch, rubbing in frantic circles around and over the achingly sensitive area. It was like she flipped a switch from the first contact, starting a chain reaction that couldn’t be stopped.

She panted, her heart pounding in her chest and her mind a haze of sensual images. Fantasies, desires, and private thoughts mingled in her mind even while she buried her fingers into her slit. In the wild dream-space of her imagination, fueled by lust, amorphous images took shape. In that liminal space, hands other than her own inflicted these feelings on her. So many of her fantasies converged in impossible ways that made sense in the way that fever-dreams do the dreamer. In her mind, Octavia joined her on the bed. Her smoky eyes and long, dark tresses defined the marbled perfection of her face, but it was her long and tapered fingers that caught her rapture the most. Maybe she was a little odd for it, but Vinyl noticed ponies’ fingers. Octavia’s were remarkable specimens; long, tapered, boasting perfectly manicured nails that were normally painted the same shade of pink that was displayed by her signature bowtie. They were a musician’s fingers, too, trained by long hours of practice to be deft, precise, and strong. If those digits could extract the most riveting notes from the strings of her cello, Vinyl could only dream of what they could do to her cunt. Here and now, however, in the privacy of her mind, those fantasies ran free and wild.

Her fingers brushed across her clit one last time and she instantly knew that she wasn’t going to be able to hold off anymore. The gnawing warmth inside her pussy flared up, its heat melting away restraint, control, and rational thought. The muscles of her body tensed all at once and she curled up into a tight little ball. Her needs, previously denied, surged through her with a vengeance as if they were determined to teach her a lesson about holding them back. Her inner walls clenched tight, all but trapping her fingers inside, but she wrenched them out with effort. Her thighs trembled with strain as contractions wracked her core, squeezing her loins in a vice grip that threatened to wring every last bit of marecum out of her.

She cried out as the first gush escaped her. Her fluids shot out of her slit and left a damp spot on her sheets. The first squirt was quickly joined by several more in rapid-fire succession, each one accompanied by a loud moan of delight.

The waves of pleasure continued to roll over and through her, submerging her in a mindless ocean of bliss even after she had given up the last of her juices. Eventually, after some time that she was in no shape to keep track of, it ended. Her ragged breaths slowly stabilized and her pounding heart calmed, leaving her to float in the comfortable embrace of the afterglow. Her eyes fluttered open and the haze cleared from her mind. She rolled over onto her back, spreading her arms and legs wide. The slightly cool air of the room kissed her body, mingling with the cooling inferno within. She lay there, utterly spent and loving every second of it.

After a few more minutes, her brain finished rebooting itself. There were things she really should take care of right now. Her soaked panties were still lying somewhere. Her blankets were stained with marecum. Dribbles of her fluids traced delicate paths down her thighs. Sweat matted her fur and mane, plastering it to her body. She reeked of sex and frankly probably needed a shower. She grinned and pulled the blanket up over her. That all sounded like future Vinyl’s problem. Present Vinyl needed a nap. She snuggled under the blanket’s warmth, allowing her eyes to close again. Peace and silence filled her mind, soothing her thoughts and allowing her to fall swiftly and gently asleep. In the solitude of her dreams, her fantasies still waited for her and she went eagerly to them, like an old friend.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed this short and silly fic. Feel free to give me a thumbs up if you want to let me know you liked it and feel free to leave a comment if you want to! love to know what people think of my work and why, and to see the proof that is is appreciated. I write primarily for my own enjoyment, but I'd be lying if I said that I don't want people to like what I put out.