Belief
By: Proteus-92
There was little doubt that at this time, the locker room of the Cloudsdale Flight Academy was the liveliest place in the whole city. And with good reason- the Wonderbolts, the best team of fliers in all of Equestria, were there. They had just finished practicing for the night, and the group was winding down, showering, talking excitedly amongst themselves about shows performed in the past and shows yet to come. Eventually though, the team began to depart, giving each other farewells and their best wishes until the next day had come, and the locker room of the Academy fell silent.
However, though silent, the locker room wasn't entirely empty. A few moments after the group had left, a single Wonderbolt quietly made his way down the rows of lockers until he reached one in particular. He opened the lock, and after a few seconds, stripped himself down, revealing himself to have light blue fur. With care, he picked up his uniform in his mouth, and hung it on a hook inside his locker. Just as he finished, a mare's voice behind him said, "Hey there Soarin'. What're you still doing here?"
Soarin' jumped, slamming his head against the top of his locker with a loud metallic bang. As he recoiled, the voice behind him giggled and said, "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you." He turned back to see who was there, and his heart skipped a beat.
Behind him stood the captain of the Wonderbolts, and the mare of almost all of Soarin's daydreams and fantasies, Spitfire. She was still in her uniform- the form-fitting garment left almost nothing to the imagination, causing a lump to form in Soarin's throat. She shifted slightly, staring at him with those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers. "Well?" she asked expectantly.
"Oh, hey… Spitfire," he said nervously. "I was just gonna go take a shower- I had some things I had to do first, so I couldn't do it with the others." That was a big, fat lie. Soarin' didn't actually have anything to do- he was simply too embarrassed to bathe with the others around.
"Well what a coincidence- I had some things I had to do too, so I couldn't wash up with the others either." She smiled deviously at him. "I have an idea- why don't we take a shower together?"
Soarin' could swear that at that moment, he felt his heart stop beating. "Uh, I don't know if that would be such a good idea…"
"And why wouldn't it be?" She asked, frowning. "We're friends, aren't we? Just think of it as one of those, what were they called… teambuilding exercises."
Soarin' honestly had no idea what to say. He was ashamed to admit that a small part of him actually liked the idea, and even more ashamed to admit that he agreed with it- Spitfire could be rather… forceful at times, even without meaning to be. And in any case, showering with Spitfire? It was literally a dream come true- the lure of naked wet mare was simply too much to resist even if… oh who was he kidding, nothing would happen. So, he said weakly "…okay."
"You know, you don't have to take a shower with me. We could just take turns." It was as though she'd read Soarin's mind.
He briefly considered backing out, before pushing that thought aside- he made his decision, and he was going to stand by it. "It's okay. If you think this'll help us work better as a team… then I'll do it."
"Well, I'm glad you came around so quickly." She then turned to a locker across from Soarin's and opened it. "Just give me a second." Spitfire began to strip down, ever so slowly. Her skintight uniform peeled away to reveal her bare, brilliant yellow body. Soarin' simply stood there gawking- his wings suddenly shot open, and he became aware of a stiffening between his hind legs. He knew he shouldn't stare, but it wasn't like she was doing anything to stop him from looking. She slowly stretched, letting her uniform fall around her hooves, before picking it up and tossing it in her locker- if he didn't know better, he would think Spitfire was deliberately teasing him. By the time she'd finished, Soarin' had thankfully managed to force his wings back against his body- unfortunately, there was little he could do to drive away his hardened member.
She looked back at him. "Alright, let's go," Spitfire said as she made her way to the shower room, her hips swaying ever so slightly as she walked. Thankfully, she either hadn't seen Soarin's erection, or had willfully ignored it. After a few seconds of building up resolve, he followed her.
A minute or so later, Soarin' was sitting under one of the numerous showerheads in the shower room, letting the hot water wash over him. He deliberately avoided looking at Spitfire, who was washing under a showerhead right next to his. The shower room had been the site of some of his, no pun intended, steamier fantasies, and Soarin' was doing everything in his power to avoid thinking about them. Wait, what am I doing? Soarin' suddenly thought to himself. This is everything I ever wanted. Am I really just gonna sit here and not even look at Spitfire once? He shook his head- no, this was something he had fantasized about ever since he'd first heard Spitfire's name. So, after taking several seconds to build up the courage, he took a quick glance at his teammate.
Spitfire was sitting under a showerhead, letting hot water wash over her, just as he was. Her head was turned up into the stream, her eyes closed, a dreamy smile on her face. Her fiery orange mane clung to her neck, matted down by the water. On her flank he could see, appropriately, a fireball- it was the first time Soarin' had ever seen her cutie mark. For that matter, it was the first time he had ever seen her… naked. Soarin' struggled to hold his wings down as his eyes ran over every sensuous curve of her body, wanting so badly to touch her, if only once. She looked positively divine- his erection throbbed painfully again, and he looked away, not wanting her to catch him staring. For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the rush of hot water, until…
"Hey, Soarin'?" Spitfire asked. "Can you help me with something?"
"Uh, sure…" Soarin' tried, and failed, to swallow- more than a few of his fantasies had begun with her asking that exact same question. "What is it?"
"Could you wash the spot in-between my wings for me? I just can't reach there by myself."
"Oh, of course." Internally he breathed a sigh of relief- at the same time though, that small part of him from before sighed in disappointment. He grabbed a nearby bottle of soap in his mouth, and squeezed some out onto the space between Spitfire's wings. As he began to reach up his hoof, she said "Be careful with my wings. They're sensitive."
"O…okay…" he stuttered back, and began rubbing the soap into Spitfire's fur. She let out a deep sigh almost as soon as he started. Soarin' withdrew slightly at this, but quickly continued after a moment passed. Spitfire let out a long string of suggestive moans as he rubbed the soap in. After a few moments, she asked him, "Soarin', have- ah! …Have you ever thought about what you'd do after you retired from the Wonderbolts?"
"Uh… no, I can't say that I have," he replied.
"Well, I think that you'd- oh… make a good masseur."
"W…What makes you say that?"
"Well, you've got a nice, soft touch. I like that- I'm sure plenty of other fillies would too."
"I-If you really think so…" After a few more seconds, he stopped rubbing and pulled his hoof away. "There, it should be nice and clean now," he said.
"Thanks," she replied. "Now let me get you too."
He stammered, "Uh, that's okay…"
"Nonsense. Now sit down." Soarin's rump immediately dropped to the tile floor at her order. A few seconds later, he felt something gooey drip onto his back, followed by a hoof gently rubbing his spine. It was a little embarrassing, but Soarin' had to admit, he found the sensation very… soothing. It reminded him of when he had been just a little colt, and how his mother used to bathe him- he closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the sensations… and gasped in surprise when he felt a very different sensation at his front.
He looked down, to see Spitfire's hoof softly rubbing the side of his cock.
His wings immediately shot out to his sides at the sight. Before he could react, Spitfire took her other foreleg and wrapped it around his chest, pulling him against her body and keeping him from getting away. "Oh, what's this?" she whispered seductively in his ear. "Is this for me? You're so sweet."
There was no way this could really be happening. Soarin' decided that with all the tension, he had finally cracked and started hallucinating. But the mare pressed against his back felt very real, as did the hoof sliding gently up and down his member. If this was a dream, or some kind of psychotic episode, then he didn't want it to end anytime soon.
"You know Soarin', I've seen the way you look at me," Spitfire said; Soarin' said nothing in reply and simply blushed. She rested her head on his shoulder. "It's okay- you don't need to be embarrassed. It's normal for a boy your age to have thoughts like that. So tell me, what sort of fantasies do you have about me?"
Soarin' was too stunned by the question to answer. When he didn't reply after a few seconds, she tried to reassure him by saying, "Really, you can tell me. I promise I won't laugh, or think of you as some sex-crazed freak or anything like that, honest." She began to rub his member a little more firmly.
Soarin' winced at the mention of… sex. Of course he had lust-filled thoughts and daydreams about Spitfire- she was basically the only mare he thought of that way. But those were just fantasies- as realistic as trying to turn rocks into gold. Now that the subject had been brought up though, it meant this situation could go in a new, and quite frankly, terrifying direction. He couldn't help but to be nervous. After all, Soarin' was still a virgin, at an age where most stallions… weren't.
"Well?" Spitfire asked expectantly. "Come on, tell me something. Anything."
Oh, there were lots and lots of dirty things that he wanted to do to her. It wasn't anything too bad or so he thought- he didn't want to hit her with whips, or do "scat" (he knew little about the latter one, but what he did know repulsed him greatly). Still, his fantasies weren't exactly something he was keen on sharing with his crush, not in a million years. But she was expecting an answer- maybe she would be satisfied by one of his tamer, more innocent daydreams.
"W-Well…" He began hesitantly, "I've… I've always… wanted to…" Come on, he thought. It's not like I'm asking her for a… a… a blowjob. Not that I ever would. He took a deep breath. "I've always wanted to know what it would be like to… to… kiss you…" In spite of his best efforts, Soarin's voice faltered, becoming almost inaudible at the end.
Spitfire stopped her ministrations and gave him a wide-eyed stare for a few moments. "A… kiss?" She asked. "That's it? That's all you could think of?" Soarin' hung his head in shame- he tried to be modest with his fantasy, but had come off as being too timid instead. Spitfire saw this at once. "Oh no, don't get the wrong idea! I'll… I'll still do it. It's just… I really didn't know what I was expecting from you."
She put her hoof on his face and turned it towards hers. Neither of them said anything for a brief moment, simply staring deep into each other's eyes. After a long silence, she finally asked, "Are you ready?"
A few seconds passed before he replied, "Yeah." He wasn't- he could've asked to wait for a hundred years, and he still wouldn't have been ready.
"Alright… here goes…" Spitfire brought her face less than an inch away from Soarin's own, before pressing her lips against his.
Soarin' was overwhelmed immediately. His hair, all of it, stood up on end, and his entire body tingled as though hot wires had been pressed against his skin. Her tongue easily pushed its way inside his mouth, swiping against its walls and rubbing against his own; he shuddered at this, feeling as though the kiss was drawing his breath right out of his lungs. He was utterly paralyzed, unable to kiss back, unable to move, think, or even breathe; all he could do was sit back and simply let Spitfire kiss him. He could think only one thing over and over and over again, as though his mind had turned into a broken record- I'm kissing Spitfire… I'm kissing Spitfire… Soarin's eyes rolled back as he let out a pitiful moan. It was too much, too much for him to take all at once. He'd seen other ponies kiss before- how did they make it look so easy? How did they keep themselves from getting… swallowed up like this?
After what felt like an eternity, Spitfire broke the kiss and pulled back- a small strand of saliva connected her lips with Soarin's. "So? How was it?" she asked, wiping it away.
"Duh…" he replied dumbly- he found it rather difficult to focus on anything beyond the last few… seconds? Or had it been minutes? For all he knew, they could have been that way for days.
She giggled. "I'm glad you liked it. Now…" She suddenly resumed rubbing her hoof against his shaft, a good deal more forcefully than before. "…tell me more." He stammered like mad, completely unable to form even one coherent word. "You still won't tell me? Then, maybe this will help loosen you up." She then began to gently kiss the side of his neck.
At this, Soarin' stood up; Spitfire, not expecting the sudden movement, had loosened her grip, allowing Soarin' to escape from her grasp. "I… I…" he began, "I'm… sorry, Spitfire. B-But I just… I can't do this."
Spitfire began to stand up as well. "But Soarin', I thought this was something you wanted."
Soarin' did not reply. His mind was reeling- in all honesty, at this point he wasn't even sure what he wanted. And he told her as much: "I… I don't know what I want anymore." He sat back down, a short distance from his teammate.
"Well, I know what I want." She approached him, and draped a foreleg across his shoulders. "All I want is for you to have more confidence in yourself. I… I-I just…" Now she was beginning to stammer, not from embarrassment, but frustration at being unable to put her thoughts into words. She looked at him. "It just… I can't stand to see you like this."
Soarin' deliberately avoided her gaze. It was easy for him to put on a brave face during the shows, when he was with his fans. But once the show was over, once the grandstands had emptied, everything suddenly changed. He felt so… exposed, so vulnerable and nervous. It was an unusual paradox- during the shows, he could perform in front of a crowd of thousands, of tens of thousands with confidence, with pride. And yet, when he was alone in a room with just one other pony, all that confidence- all that pride- collapsed as though it were made of sand. And he was at a complete loss to explain why… other than just not being good with other ponies.
Eventually, he brushed her foreleg away and began to stand up, saying "I-I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help me, but I can't-"
"You can. I know you can. Even if you don't believe in yourself… I believe in you."
Soarin' froze on the spot. Her words echoed in his head- I believe in you. Memories came to him- memories of the first time Spitfire had said those same words to him… of the day he and she met for the very first time…
Soarin' rose to his feet, shaking the water from his body. He'd overheard a conversation between two earth ponies once, talking about how nice it would be to live on a cloud, to roll around on something that looked so puffy and soft. What a naïve thought- clouds could be surprisingly unforgiving if a pony landed on one the wrong way. He stretched his aching shoulder as best he could, and made his way back to the start of the obstacle course. He could, of course, have blamed his fall on the darkness- he was trying to run the course in the dead of night. But it was far more likely that his accident had resulted from his subpar flying skills. And there was the nervousness. Then again, why wouldn't he be nervous?
He was technically trespassing, after all.
Soarin' could get into some serious trouble if somepony found him on the grounds of Cloudsdale Flight Academy after hours. But the school was the only place in the whole city with an obstacle course for him to run, and he was determined to get in as much practice as he could. In truth though, it probably wouldn't matter- Cloudsdale's Best Young Flyer competition was tomorrow, so he doubted any last-minute training would be a real help.
He flew up to the wooden platform that served as the start of the obstacle course again. With his hoof, he pushed down on a small lever set into the platform- with a slight groan, the mobile parts of the course were set in motion, a faint hum in the air. A moment passed, before Soarin' extended his wings and began his second run through the course.
There were only three rules regarding the obstacle course in the official rules of the Best Young Flyer competition- first, although they could speed up or slow down as they chose, a competitor was ultimately not allowed to stop at any time during their run. Doing so would cause them to be disqualified. The second, very obvious rule was that a competitor would be disqualified if they crashed at any point during their run. Finally, magic was not permitted either from a competitor or anyone watching the events. The punishment for this was not only disqualification, but also a bar on competing in the competition for a few years. But since Soarin' didn't have any unicorn friends and wasn't a unicorn himself, he only needed to worry about those first two rules.
The first part of the course was simply weaving back and forth between a long row of columns- nothing too complicated. The second part was made of a pair of huge wheels with large holes along the rims that spun in opposite directions. A pegasus was required to fly through the holes in a straight line without stopping. Again, nothing too difficult- Soarin' had to turn on his side to fit through the gap this time around, but he made it through nonetheless. The third part of the course was where things grew difficult; it was similar to the first section, but rather than weaving through stationary columns, one had to weave through large wooden squares that moved back and forth at different speeds- the timing was a little trickier because of their movement, but otherwise it was no more difficult than the first part. The fourth part was a bit easier- again, it consisted of large wooden squares. However, rather than weaving through them, one was required to fly through the large, narrow slots cut through their centers- for added difficulty, the squares rotated in alternating directions at different speeds. He had to do a fair number of barrel rolls, but Soarin' was able to make it through. Now, Soarin' had come to the point where he'd failed before: the fifth and final part of the course. Of course, being the final part, it was also the most difficult; it had two large spinning wheels like the second part, but rather than large holes, the wheels were rimmed with numerous narrow slots, like the fourth part. Making it through this required a combination of sufficient speed, timing, and precision; a lack in any one of these areas ensured that one wouldn't make it.
Soarin' sped right towards the wheels as top speed. He rolled onto the side and slipped through the first slot- the second was right in front of him, just as he expected. But there was a sudden pain in his left wing as he passed through the second slot- he realized that he had been a little bit too slow in his timing. The impact caused him to spin out of control; he began to wildly flap his wings, trying to stabilize himself, but couldn't before he hit the "ground." That would've been a disqualification for sure.
Once again, he rose to his feet, shook himself dry, and made his way back to the starting point. However, before he could pull the lever again, a mare's voice from right him asked, "And just what do you think you're doing here?"
Soarin' jumped. Busted…sang the part of his brain that loved to torment him at times like this. His face burning with shame, he turned around to face his apprehender. He immediately wished he hadn't- he turned to find a Wonderbolt, in full uniform, glaring down at him. That alone would have been bad enough, but this wasn't just any Wonderbolt- judging by the fiery orange mane, it was their captain, and a mare that Soarin' had had a crush on for some time now… Spitfire.
Soarin' would have rather found himself face-to-face with an angry manticore.
His throat swelled shut from embarrassment, preventing speech- not that he would have ever been able to explain himself to her. He screwed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting her to yell at him or maybe even hit him for trespassing. Several moments passed without anything happening; against his better judgment, Soarin' dared to open one of his eyes.
She was… smilingat him- that alone made his heart skip a beat and his face burn. "Let me guess- you're practicing for the Best Young Flyer competition tomorrow, aren't you?" she asked. His throat was still swollen shut, so he simply nodded in reply. "I see. Well, why don't you try another run? Maybe I can point out any of your mistakes."
Soarin's jaw dropped. This was not what he had been expecting- rather than being angry, she wanted to help him. She pushed down the lever, starting up the obstacle course. "Whenever you're ready," she said simply to him. It took a few moments to gather his resolve, but once again, he spread his wings and began his third run through the course.
Now that there was somepony watching him, Soarin' found that even the most basic maneuvers seemed impossibly complex. He nearly crashed headlong into several pillars in the first part, and only just made it through the second. He entered the third section- everything was going well, until he banked too hard around one of the squares and crashed headfirst into the one behind it. He plummeted to the "ground," before picking himself up once again and returning to the starting point.
This was not good. He did just fine by himself, managing to make a near-flawless run through the course. But, as soon as there was another pony watching him, all of his skill suddenly vanished- he couldn't even make it past the halfway point. And this was with just one pony- how was he supposed to do this in front of a whole stadium full of them?
He dropped down onto the starting platform. "That was a pretty hard crash. Are you okay?" Spitfire asked. Soarin's throat had reopened enough for him to reply, "…yeah."
i]"You know, I saw your last run. You were soclose to finishing it perfectly… why don't you try again? I'm sure you can do it this time."
"I… I'm not so sure anymore," Soarin' said. He could feel his throat swelling up again; he spoke quickly before his words were cut off. "I can't do this with onepony watching me, so how am I supposed to do it in front of a whole stadium? I'm just gonna crash and embarrass myself and then everyone will laugh at me."
"Well if you think like that, that's exactly what's gonna happen," she replied. She walked right up to him, and looked him directly in the eye- Soarin' felt as though he were frozen, unable to break free of her gaze. "You can't win every time- believe me, I found that out the hard way plenty of times. But you can't be afraid to try just because you think you mightfail. You should go out there at top speed, every single time. You shouldn't worry about failing- the only thing that should matter to you is doing the very best that you can. If you win, then good for you- if you lose, then walk away knowing that you did the best you could, and work as hard as you can to make yourself better for the next time. It's hard- I knowit's hard. But if you can't do something for your own sake, then… then at least do it for mine. Even if you don't… even if you won'tbelieve in yourself, I will." Spitfire took a deep breath. "…I believe in you."
Soarin' couldn't believe his ears. His idol, his… crush, believed he could succeed- in spite of his insignificance, in spite of his failings, in spite of the fact that she didn't even know his name… she believed in him. His heart swelled, and he felt like he was invincible- with confidence that surprised even himself, he said, "Start up the obstacle course. I want to try another run."
"Now that's more like it," she said, and pressed the lever. Without a moment of hesitation, he sped off. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he navigated the first four parts of the course without even breaking a sweat. He reached the moment of truth- the final challenge. He sped up, even faster than before- everything seemed to slow down. The slot moved in front of him just as he was about to collide with the side of the wheel. In front of him was the second-without slowing even for a fraction of a second, he passed through it. The tip of his wing ever so slightly brushed against the edge of the slot, but he made it all the same.
Soarin' landed not too far away, stunned. A few moments later, Spitfire swooped down and landed next to him. "Nice work," she said. "I've never seen anyone run the course that fast before- if you can pull that off in the competition tomorrow, then you'll win for sure."
"Do you really think so?" What was he doing? He'd gotten reassurances from the captain of the Wonderbolts- of course he'd win.
"Yeah." She paused for a moment. "You should head home now- you'll need a good night's sleep if you want to be at your best for the contest."
Soarin' nodded and stretched his wings, preparing to take off. "Hold on just a second," she said to him; he stopped and looked back to her. "There's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she walked right up to him and stared at him for several moments. Then, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, whispering "Good luck," before she pulled back. "You should go." He nodded dumbly in reply and flew away.
Soarin's mind was reeling from the events that had just taken place. He'd met his idol in person, she'd given him the best motivational speech he'd ever heard, she'd wished him luck in the competition… and she even kissed him. She kissed him!But more importantly, she had faith in him. She believed that he could succeed, when he didn't even believe in himself. For the first time in his life, he felt… proud, confident. He felt like a million bits. He felt as though the entire world was his for the taking. He felt…
…as though the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. Though he'd woken up in high spirits, Soarin's confidence began to rapidly degrade as soon as he set foot in the Cloudiseum, and only deteriorated further as the contest progressed. Thanks to his rotten luck, he was to be the very last contestant. He caught glimpses of the other contestants going through their runs- this year, nearly all the contestants had elected to go through the obstacle course. Soarin' knew many of the ponies he was competing against- they were old friends, classmates of his. Some were a fair bit older than him, and more skilled at flying… so it didn't provide him any comfort when he saw them fail.
Before long, he was the only contestant left backstage. One of the coordinators approached him and said, "It looks like you're the last one. You're… Soarin', right?"
"That's me." He gave the coordinator a weak smile.
"Right, follow me please." He followed her to a curtain that led out into the arena. "Wait here, and don't go out until they call your number. …Don't look so worried- you'll do just fine out there." The older mare gave him an encouraging smile.
He gave another nervous smile in return. "Thanks." The coordinator then left him. He waited anxiously, peering through the small gap in the curtain- the pony before him was having a fairly good run, until he took a turn too hard and crashed during the third section of the course. "Oh… that's gotta hurt," a rather obnoxious announcer said. "Well folks, we are down to our final contestant. Please give a big hand to contestant number fifteen… Soarin'!"
Soarin' could feet the floor beneath his feet rumble from the cheering outside. He tried, and failed, to swallow, before stepping out into the open. The stands that circled around him were absolutely packed with ponies. Princess Celestia was there, as she always was at every year's competition. He spotted the Wonderbolts not long after. There were so many ponies, so many eyes, all watching him. Soarin' felt so incredibly small at that moment. His heart pounded painfully in his chest- he couldn't do this. With so many watching him, he was bound to fail and make a fool of himself- in front of all of Cloudsdale, the Princess, the Wonderbolts… her. He couldn't do this, he couldn't-
I believe in you.
Soarin' shook his head. No- he could do this. As long as she believed in him… as long as he believed in himself, he could do anything. He spread his wings, and he was off.
Sometimes during the competition, they changed the order of some of the obstacles, for an extra challenge- but not this time. Soarin' weaved through the columns of the first section, darted between the two wheels of the second, weaved once again through the squares of the third, and barrel rolled through the slots of the fourth. Now was the moment of truth. As before he sped toward the spinning wheels- just as it seemed he would crash headfirst into the wheel, a slot came up. He rolled to his side and passed through it. The second slot was right in front of him, and he passed through it as well.
But this time, something went very wrong- the tip of his wing clipped the edge of the second hole. He began to spiral out of control; the crowd let out a collective gasp, but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own heart. He struggled frantically to remember what to do in this situation- after a few seconds, he managed to bank in the direction of his spin and regain control, bringing himself to a stop with a strong flap of his wings. He landed on a small cloud near the end of the course, unsure of himself; a few moments passed, and then the crowd erupted with cheers. Soarin' felt a strange sensation in his chest- the sensation was unusual, but not entirely unpleasant.
"Fillies and gentlecolts," the obnoxious announcer began, "this concludes our competition. The judges are currently tallying the scores, and in a few short moments, will announce this year's new Best Young Flyer!" There were a few moments in silence. "The results are in. The winner of this year's Best Young Flyer competition, by a unanimous vote, is… contestant number fifteen, Soarin'!"
The crowd erupted into cheers again, and that strange feeling came to Soarin' once again. Almost as soon as the announcement had come, he found himself surrounded by members of the Wonderbolts, offering various praises. Before long, a mare with a fiery orange mane stepped in front of him. "Nice save out there," Spitfire said to him. "But, I knew you'd pull through."
"Well I couldn't have done it without you," he replied.
"Don't give me all the credit- youdid the work…" She paused for a second. "So, your name's Soarin'? I just realized that in all that time we spent together yesterday, I never asked you for your name- I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate."
She didn't need to apologize, he thought- if anything, heshould be apologizing for not introducing himself. She paused for a moment, as though carefully considering her next words. "You know, the Wonderbolts are having tryouts in a few weeks. It gets pretty tough to choose trainees- maybe I could put in a good word for you. How would that sound?"
Soarin' smiled broadly. He couldn't believe how his luck had changed- he'd won the competition, caught the eye of the Wonderbots, and might very well join them in the near-future. He thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, there was something to this whole "believing in yourself" thing after all.
"Uh… Soarin'? Soarin'? Earth to Soarin', are you there?" Spitfire called.
Soarin' didn't hear her. He was still far away, reflecting on that fateful day. I believe in you. Her words echoed in his head again, and then again- I believe in you. With each echo, he became more and more emboldened. She was right- he could do this.
How could he ever have doubted her?
He turned around to face her. "Spitfire, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, of course."
In spite of his bold feelings, he began to stammer again. "Can-Can I… see y-your… your…" The very last word came out as an incomprehensible mumble.
"Uh, what was that?"
"I said that I… that I wanted to… see your… your… pussy." He mumbled the last word again- it just didn't seem right for him to use such a vulgar word in front of her.
She blinked, taken aback. "Are… are you sure?"
He nodded. "Yeah…"
She sat down, and leaned back. "You're a hundred percent sure about this?"
"You said you wanted to know what kind of fantasies I had about you- well, this is one of them." It was an unexpected reversal of roles- he was the one reassuring her, rather than the other way around.
"Okay… if you insist…" She took a deep breath, and opened her hind legs, exposing herself to him.
It was the first time Soarin' had ever seen a mare's… intimate area. He hadn't been sure what to expect- his only knowledge of the subject came from numerous torrid romance novels that he secretly loved to read, and in all honesty, their descriptions didn't exactly match up with what he was seeing. They always described it as a "delicate flower;" it did look a little bit like a flower, but…
"Um, Soarin'?" Spitfire asked. "Could you not stare so hard at it? It's… embarrassing." He looked up at her; she was looking back at him, blushing.
He blushed as well; the situation was playing out almost exactly like a scene from one of his novels. They almost always let to… sex, but a good number of them were preceded by something else… but he wasn't sure if he should do it. What if she didn't like it? Well, there couldn't be any harm in trying. If she didn't like it, then he'd apologize and they could try something else. He swallowed, then brought his face over her slit and licked it.
Immediately, she gasped and bucked up her hips. Soarin' pulled back, worried he did something wrong. "I'm sorry!" he said. "I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay…" she interrupted. "It… felt… good…"
Soarin' blushed again. "D-Do you want me to keep going?"
"Please." He set to work again. He ran his tongue over her folds with care, as the handsome stallions in the novels did- Spitfire's deep sighs of pleasure encouraged him to continue, telling him he was doing something right. He was searching for something the books had called a "clit." He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he was certain he would know when he found it. His tongue suddenly met a small, hard bump; at once, she gasped and bucked her hips up into his face. He was just about to pull back again when she said, "No. Keep going. Right there." He complied, eliciting a long string of pleased-sounding moans from her. Amazingly, Spitfire's folds had gotten wet, not just from his licking but seemingly all on their own. He plunged his tongue inside of her curiously- the taste was unusual, but not unpleasant in the least.
He could definitely grow to enjoy it.
The shower room rang with Spitfire's pleasured moans. Spurred on, Soarin' drove his tongue into her, faster, harder, deeper. She put her hooves on the back of his head and wrapped her thighs around his face, preventing him from pulling away… not that he would ever want to. He lapped her pussy furiously with his tongue, greedily drinking up her nectar- he couldn't get enough of it. Her moans were like music to his ears- so alluring, so enticing, so… sexy.
If it weren't for his current predicament, Soarin' would have slapped himself. There were a lot of words he used to describe Spitfire, but… sexy wasn't one of them. To him, the word just seemed… degrading in some abstract way he couldn't define. He'd never be able to bring himself to say it to her face. She pushed his head against her pussy, giving him disjointed praises and urgings in-between moans, to which he complied. All of a sudden, she seized up. Her back arched, driving her pussy into his face again; her thighs locked tightly around his head, squeezing him painfully. Her folds clenched around his tongue tightly, but he continued to work her over. Spitfire's whole body shuddered; she wanted so desperately to scream as her orgasm tore through her, but all that would come out of her mouth was a small, pitiful squeak.
Eventually, Spitfire slumped back to the floor, gasping for breath. Her grip on Soarin' loosened, and he pulled back. He leaned over into a stream from one of the showerheads, washing her nectar from his face, from the inside of his mouth- he loved the way she tasted, but she might not have been so appreciative. When she finally caught her breath, Spitfire sat up and said, "Soarin', that was… amazing. Have you… done this before?"
Soarin blushed yet again and replied quickly, "No of course not! I've never done anything like this before!"
"Then how did you know what to do?"
"Uh… trashy romance novels?" He smiled nervously at her. She smiled warmly in return. "Spitfire," he began- a question had been gnawing at his mind ever since this whole thing started, and since he answered one of her questions, it was only fair that she answered his. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why are you doing this, really?"
"Like I said, I want you to believe in yourself more."
"So it's because of… pity?" The thought of that lanced his heart like a cold knife.
"No, that's not it at all! It's not because I pity you!"
"Then… why?"
"Well, before I can really answer that, I need to tell you a story- a story about something very special that happened to me when I was just a little filly…"
Spitfire cried as she sat on the bench. She was alone, in a small playground at the very edge of Cloudsdale. The little yellow filly came here every day after school… after the bullies who tormented her had finally left her alone. If she was lucky, then she could slip away and hide from them- they always gave up their search after a few minutes. If she was unlucky, then they would follow her no matter where she went, tormenting her relentlessly until they eventually grew bored and looked for some other form of amusement. However, whether she was lucky or unlucky, when it was over she always did the same thing- she came to the playground, sat on the bench, and cried her eyes out. It didn't really help her feel better, but what else could she do? She couldn't fight back- they were older, and so much bigger than she was…
Spitfire heard the sound of hooves approaching her. She looked up to see a light blue colt walking up to her. He seemed to be about her age, but she didn't recognize him from any of her classes. Was he one of her bullies? She didn't know- she'd never bothered to catch a glimpse of any of her tormentors. "Hey," he said to her. "Why are you crying?"
"Go away…" she replied. "I just want to be left alone."
"Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're crying? You can tell me."
"No…"
"Then what is it? Let me help you."
"No! Just… leave me alone!" She stood up and jumped off the bench, flapping her wings as hard as she could. But despite her best efforts, Spitfire couldn't stay aloft and after a few seconds, she unceremoniously fell to the "ground." There, she curled up into a ball and began sobbing.
The colt approached her, worried. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Go away…" she said between sobs. "You're just here to make fun of me, aren't you? Just like everyone else."
He sat down. "No. Why would I make fun of you?"
"Didn't you see what just happened? I'm a pegasus and I… I… I can't fly!" Spitfire began crying even harder than before.
"Well of course you can't fly- you're doing it all wrong."
She picked up her head and looked at him. "What?"
"You have to open up your wings more- how are you supposed to fly with all your feathers bunched up?"
Spitfire stopped most of her crying and got back on her feet. She didn't know who this colt was, but he wasn't making fun of her, so he had to be okay. She sniffed. "Could you… could you teach me how to fly?"
"Uh… I guess I can…" he replied uncertainly. "I mean, I-I've never taught anyone how to fly before, but if I just show you what my teacher taught me, I think I can do it."
"…come on, open your wings more," the colt said. Spitfire was standing on the bench, stretching out her wings; the colt was walking back and forth, examining them. Spitfire stretched out her wings as far as she could. "Is this better?"
"Yeah. Now you need to spread out your feathers." She concentrated as hard as she could on spreading her feathers out, until she thought she felt something. "Did it work?"
"No, they're still bunched up. Try it again." She concentrated on spreading her feathers again, so much that she felt like her head was going to pop. "Anything now?" she asked.
"No, still nothing." She stopped focusing, discouraged. The colt noticed this right away. "Just relax- you don't have to be so nervous."
She shifted. "I can't help it."
"I think I know something that'll help- my teacher used to do it for me whenever I was nervous during my flying lessons." The colt jumped up onto the bench, and started to rub Spitfire's wings with his hoof. She immediately pulled away, tucking in her wings. "Hey, what're you doing!"
He recoiled. "I-I… I'm sorry. It's just my teacher said that your feathers get bunched up when you're nervous. So, when I got nervous, she'd rub my wings until I felt better. I… thought it would work for you too." He hung his head, ashamed.
Spitfire couldn't help but feel bad about what she had done- after all, he was only trying to help her. So, she spread her wings again and said, "If you think this will help, then go ahead." The colt warily began to reach for her wings again- when she didn't protest, he began to softly rub his hoof up and down her wings.
Spitfire shivered; she had never had anyone touch her wings before, let alone a colt. His gentle touch surprised her, and in spite of herself, she began to relax. The colt took his hoof away and said, "Now that looks better." She looked over her shoulder- the feathers of her wings were now spread out evenly, rather than being bunched together in a hoofful of spots. "Thanks," she said. "I think I'm ready to fly now."
"No wait!" But before the colt could stop her, Spitfire jumped off the bench, flapping her wings as fast as she could. However, just like last time, she only managed to stay airborne for a few seconds before falling out of the sky and landing hard on her rump.
"Oww…" she said, rubbing her sore rump. "I thought you said I'd be able to fly if all my feathers were straight."
"Your feathers need to be straight if you want to fly, but there's more to it than that. If you just waited a second, I would've told you that."
"So, what else do I have to do?"
"Uh… just give me a second to think. There's kind of a lot…" The colt guided Spitfire through various lessons his teacher had given him when he was learning to fly. She progressed slowly, falling and hurting herself more than a few times. But no matter how slowly she progressed, no matter how many times she had to repeat an action, the colt never grew impatient with Spitfire, never spoke harshly to her, and praised any improvement she made, no matter how insignificant it seemed. After some time, Spitfire brought herself to her feet after falling for the… she didn't know how many times she had fallen. "This is impossible," she complained. "I'm never going to fly!"
"Sure you will," the colt replied. "You're a pegasus, right? That means you're meant to fly."
"How can you be so sure? All I keep doing is falling."
"Well… I fell and I crashed a whole bunch of times when I was learning to fly. But, I never stopped trying. And-And you shouldn't stop either." The foal paused momentarily- clearly, motivational speeches weren't his strong point. "My teacher said that as long as you believe in yourself, then you can do anything."
"I… I don't know…" Spitfire began hesitantly
"Well, um… even… even if y-you won't believe in yourself, I… I will." He trotted right up to Spitfire and looked deep into her eyes. "I believe in you."
It was as though somepony had struck a match in Spitfire's heart- wave after wave of confidence suddenly surged through the filly, who felt as though she would burst. This colt, this kind stranger believed that she would succeed- and if he could believe in her, then she could too. She stood up tall and said, "Okay, I'm ready to try this again."
"R-Really?" The colt shook his head. "Uh, I-I mean that's great! Now, just remember what I showed you."
Spitfire climbed back onto the bench and spread her wings, as the colt had instructed her. Then, holding her wings straight, she jumped off the bench. She glided slowly through the air; just as she was about to touch the ground, she flapped her wings as the colt had shown her, keeping them straight. Her wings caught the air, pushing her up- not by a lot, but enough for her to know that she had done it right. She couldn't believe what had just happened. But she couldn't get overexcited just yet.
She brought herself to a stop. She stretched out her wings again and flapped her wings once. She was pushed into the air; then she flapped her wings again, and then again, each flap bringing her higher and higher into the air. She seemed to hang in the air, her wings keeping her small body aloft.
Spitfire would have jumped for joy if she could have. She was doing it. She was reallydoing it. The one thing she wanted more than anything else.
Spitfire was flying.
Overjoyed, she began swooping around the playground, diving, weaving through various items. "Hold on, you need to be careful!" the colt called out. But Spitfire paid no heed to him as she danced across the sky, her heart filling with joy. She did it, she was really flying! She couldn't wait to see the looks on the bullies' faces when they saw that she could fly now. Her heart swelled. She felt invincible. She felt as though the world was hers for the taking. She…
…crashed headfirst into a swing set, and fell against the cloud. The colt rushed over to where she had landed. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"
Much to his surprise, Spitfire was… laughing. "I did it, I did it! I can fly! I'm so happy!" She quickly rose to her feet again, and wrapped her forelegs around the colt's neck. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" She hugged him tight, wishing she could do something, anythingmore to repay him, other than just standing there, repeating herself. She then thought of something. She let go of him, and gave him a small lick on the cheek. He blushed right away, and his wings stuck straight out at his sides.
"Thank you," she said to him again. "I won't ever forget this, I promise."
He didn't answer. She didn't mind- he had already done more than enough for her. She smiled to him and said, "I should go. Thank you."
And with that, she flew away.
"I never forgot that day. And I never forgot that kind colt who helped me." Spitfire brought her hoof up to her face, blushing like a school-filly. A few moments passed before she asked him, "Well? Care to guess who that kind foal was?"
Across from her, Soarin' stared in confusion. That story had made him recall an anecdote of his own- about the time when as a young colt, he helped a filly learn how to fly. He thought to himself,maybe… then immediately shook his head. No, that was impossible. Coincidences like that… they only ever happened in his cheap romance novels, not the real world. There was no way it could be true.
Seemingly as though she sensed his doubt, Spitfire said, "Maybe this will give you a hint." She leaned toward him, and gave him a small, almost imperceptible lick on the cheek.
At that moment, all of his doubt was shattered.
The kind pony who had helped her had been him. And she had been the filly he helped, all those years ago.
He blushed, just as he had when he was young. As she pulled away, she blushed as well and asked him, "Have I really changed that much?" As a matter of fact, she hadn't- looking back, as she flew away from that playground, Soarin' could see now the beginnings of the strong, confident, beautiful mare that filly would eventually become.
"If… if you knew who I was this whole time then why did… w-wait, that's why you didn't turn me in when you found me at the flight academy the night before the competition! Because you recognized me! I… I always wondered why you did that."
"Well, that's part of the reason. The other is because I wanted to repay you, for everything you did…" She wiped her eyes. "You were so… kind to me. No foal had ever been that kind to me before. Y-You… believed in me, even when-" she hiccupped. "…even when I couldn't believe in myself…"
Soarin' struggled to hold back tears of his own. "P-Please, don't… don't cry over me. I… I'm not worth it."
"You are worth it. To me. Because, on the day we met, I… I… well, I… I kind of…fell in love with you."
At this, Soarin' couldn't restrain himself any longer. He all but threw himself at Spitfire, pressing his lips against hers. She slowly pulled back and laid herself down on the tile floor, pulling him on top of her. He kissed her passionately, desperately, his tongue swirling awkwardly around hers. But as he kissed her, tremendous amounts of guilt built up in his heart. She… loved him? Well, she said she did. Had she given him hints? She might have, but of course, outside of shows he was too cowardly to even look at her, let alone speak to her. And yet she spent all that time, simply pining away for him. He'd fantasized often about Spitfire catching him alone and professing her undying love for him, but now that it had actually happened, he wasn't happy- quite the opposite, in fact. How in Celestia's name could she still love him, after the way he treated her? He wanted to hit himself. He was… pathetic.
She deserved so much better than him.
After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away. "I'm so sorry," he said; tears streamed down his face freely. "I should've seen it sooner. I'm sorry." He kissed her. "I'm sorry." He kissed her again. "I'm sorry." He kissed her, over and over again, punctuating each one with an apology. Eventually though, as he moved to kiss her once again, she brought up her hoof to stop him. "It's okay," she said. "You don't have to apologize to me."
"I do. All this time, you had feelings for me, but I was too scared to ask you out or anything. You must think I'm so pathetic, don't you? How can-"
Soarin's bout of self-pity was interrupted when Spitfire kissed him. When she pulled away a few moments later, she said to him "Soarin', look. Everything that happened before today, it… it doesn't matter to me. I'm just happy that I can be with you right now. And you should be too."
His cheeks burned a little in shame. She was right- he was being selfish. This wasn't just about him and what he did (or didn't do), it was about her too. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said. "But, I still feel bad for… avoiding you. I want to make it up to you."
She smiled seductively at him; he shivered. "Well then… you'd better get started." She began grinding her hips into his. He gasped in surprise; his cock, which had grown limp while he listened to Spitfire's story, hardened in a matter of seconds. Despite his attempt to contain it, a pleased-sounding groan escaped Soarin's lips- the sensation was simply far too much to hold in. He felt pressure build up inside his hips, but rather than being painful, he found it very pleasant- he began to rub himself against Spitfire in return, strengthening the pressure. But all of a sudden, much to his disappointment, Spitfire stopped. "There we go, that should be good…" She noticed his expression. "Come on, don't look at me like that. I don't want you to get too excited."
"Excited? About what?" Soarin' was already fairly certain of where the situation was headed.
Another brief grinding of her hips against his served as her reply. "So, do you want to do this in a particular position or-"
"No, this is fine," he interrupted, his stomach fluttering uncomfortably. "I… I want to look at you." He realized that the line sounded a lot better in his head. She simply smiled at him, and he shivered again; he would do anything for that smile. But, he still had one thing that he needed to ask. "Spitfire," he began, "I have to ask you… are you sure you want to do this?"
To his surprise, she laughed- at once, Soarin' blushed again, fearing he had made some kind of mistake. After a moment, she said, "Well, if it helps you feel better, then yes, I consent to this. But you know, what I was doing earlier was technically without your consent. You're not going to turn me in to the police, are you?"
He shook his head in reply before taking a deep breath and pushing himself up. "Okay, I'm… I'm going to put it in now…"
"Take as much time as you need. This isn't a race." If he took those words to heart, the rest of the team would have most likely found the two of them in that same position the next morning. He steeled himself for what he was about to do, and with an unsteady hoof, guided himself toward her entrance; he jumped a bit when she too placed her hooves on his member to help him. He stopped for a moment, his member resting against her folds, and asked her, "Are you ready?" When she nodded to him, he took another deep breath and ever so slightly, pushed himself inside of her.
A small whine of pain escaped Spitfire's lips, despite her best efforts to contain it. Her friends had always told her that the first time would be painful, but she hadn't expected this- she screwed her eyes shut as tears began to roll down her face. Soarin' saw this right away and prepared to withdraw. As though she had read his mind, she said, "No. Keep… going. It'll get better… I promise." Wary, but taking her words to heart, he continued to push his way inside her. She grunted and cried out in pain as he pushed his way inside, feeling as though the foreign object would break her in half. Soarin' stopped at each one, only to continue at Spitfire's encouragement. It wasn't nearly as bad for him of course, but the sensation was still new and rather uncomfortable.
After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally fully seated inside of her. Now that he had finally come to rest, Soarin' could now fully appreciate the effect he was having on Spitfire's body. He… could feel her pulse. He could feel the muscles of her… love canal (as one of the books had so eloquently named it) clenching rhythmically around his member, as though trying to draw something out. It was nothing short of incredible; nothing he had ever felt in his entire life could compare to the sensations that he felt at that moment. The pressure from before began to build up again. For a few moments, the only sounds in the shower room were that of running water and of Spitfire's heavy breathing. Soon, he asked, "How are you feeling now?"
In truth, it still hurt, but the pain was gradually subsiding. "Just… give me a minute," she replied. He waited- slowly, the pain faded. Without the distractions, she realized that she could feel his pulse through his member. Every twitch, every subtle movement- she could feel everything, and every movement brought a slight tingle to her belly. "Alright, you can keep going."
Her statement caught Soarin' off guard, but he nodded. Now the only question was, what was he supposed to do now? Sure, the novels were filled with descriptions of "turgid members," "silky folds," and "writhing bodies," but they had always been maddeningly vague when it came to the act itself. He silently cursed his lack of experience as Spitfire looked up at him questioningly, and when nothing came to him, he sighed in defeat and prepared to pull himself out. He wasn't prepared for what happened once he did.
Soarin' bit his lip to hold in a gasp. The sensation of his member sliding against Spitfire's inner walls felt… good. Very good. It was the best feeling he'd ever had in his life, even better than when he'd first seated himself inside her. He kept pulling back, until only the tip of his cock remained inside. Then, he thrust into her again.
Spitfire cried out. Soarin' stopped again and looked down, worried he'd hurt her. Instead, an expression of pure bliss was on her face. She looked up with him, her eyes seemingly filled with fire, and said, "More." He complied without a second thought. His thrusts started slowly at first, but began to speed up, of his own accord. The pressure began to build rapidly, and he thrust faster and faster, wanting to see just how far he could take it, completely oblivious to anything else. It seemed only to grow more and more, and Soarin' felt as though he might burst. Suddenly, his body was wracked by an explosion of pleasure; his body seized, as his mind went completely and utterly blank. It took several seconds for Soarin' to come to his senses. It was then that he realized…something had come out of him, some kind of sticky white fluid. He looked down at her, surprised; she looked up at him, her surprise matching his.
For a few moments, neither said anything. Then, Soarin' began to say "Spitfire, I am so, so sorry about that. It wasn't… I-I didn't mean to…"
"It's okay," she said, touching a hoof to his face. "This is your first time, isn't it?
He nodded, almost shamefully. "Does… does this mean it's over now?"
"Do you want it to be over?" He shook his head vigorously- he didn't want it to end so soon, not when he had barely even begun. "Then, keep going."
He nodded, and began thrusting again. His groin felt strange as he thrust, and in all honesty it felt a little gross with all that sticky white stuff covering his member. He didn't want things to end early like before, so he took his time, thrusting slowly, resisting the urge to speed up. "Um, Soarin'?" Spitfire asked. "Could you go a little faster, like before?" He did as she asked, picking up the pace. The strange feeling faded, and the pressure began to build up again. Spitfire began…moaning again- in spite of himself, he began to speed up yet again, spurred on by her reaction. The sound of running water was soon drowned out by the sound of their bodies slapping against each other and Spitfire's moans, which were soon joined by his own. It felt so damn good, Soarin' could hardly believe it- he only hoped that Spitfire felt as good as he did at that moment. He wished that it would never end.
He looked down at her once again- seeing her blissful expression, he couldn't help himself, and he leaned down to kiss her. He kissed her passionately, desperately, as though at any moment, she might fade away from beneath him. She kissed him fervently in return, wrapping her legs around his body. There were so many things he wanted to say to her at that moment- Thank you, I'm sorry, I love you… but he was so lost in their kiss, in that passion, that he couldn't bring himself to pull away.
When he finally, reluctantly broke the kiss, he asked, "Spitfire, am I… am I doing okay?"
She smiled up at him. "You're doing just fine, Soarin'."
He paused, even stopping his thrusts so he could think clearly. "Spitfire, there's something I've always wanted to say to you. I want to say it now, but… not just because we're doing it, but because I really… really mean it. Spitfire… I… I… I love you."
She leaned up, and gave him a soft kiss. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that."
He was overwhelmed again, and threw himself at her. They kissed as he began pounding into her, harder and faster than before. As their bodies churned against one another, Soarin' began to understand why the act was called lovemaking - every thrust, every squeeze, every swipe of her tongue against his, only made him want Spitfire even more. His stomach fluttered and his heart swelled, feeling like it was going to burst. He wanted nothing more than to climb on the highest mountains and scream to the world, I love Spitfire! And when it was over, he might very well do just that.
The pressure was escalating rapidly- as much as he didn't want it to be, it would be over soon. Spitfire pulled away from his kiss, to his chagrin, and asked, "Are you close?" He nodded, not daring to stop for even a moment. "Can you hold out for just a little longer? I'm nearly there." Hearing that caused some of the pressure to ebb away almost immediately- he'd been so focused on his own pleasure that he'd neglected Spitfire's. So he asked, "How should I do it?"
"What?"
"How should I do it? To get you 'there' faster?"
"Um… could you move side to side?"
"You mean like this?" He began to roll his hips from side to side, as she asked- immediately, she threw her head back and cried out "Oh Celestia yes! Just like that!" He began to move faster, without prompting, pressure building up again. Her back arched, pressing her hips almost flush against his, and she pounded the tile floor with her hooves- dammit, she was so close! But she just couldn't get over that hump…
Soarin', remembering something from earlier, brought one of his hooves up and touched it against her clit.
That was the ticket.
It felt as though a great gate had suddenly been opened inside of her. She screamed in pure ecstasy, not caring if anyone could hear her, or about anything other than what was happening in her loins at that exact moment. Wave after satisfying wave of pleasure washed over her, and she slowly began to relax. At the same time, Spitfire's walls had clenched tightly against Soarin's member; the pressure grew overwhelming, and he exploded again. He cried out, unaware, only able to think of the surge of pleasure coursing through his body. Their limbs locked tightly around each other, as though to keep from being swept away.
A few moments later the waves stopped, and he laid himself on Spitfire, the both of them breathing heavily. She was so soft and warm, and he found the way her hooves ran across his back to be very soothing. His eyelids began to droop- he was so very tired. He could just… fall asleep… right… here…
"Soarin'?" Spitfire began to shake him lightly. "Soarin', don't fall asleep."
He shook his head and pushed himself up, replying tiredly, "I… I'm awake. I'm awake."
"Good. Because, well… we're going to need to clean ourselves up again."
"…you know, I've been meaning to ask you something Spitfire."
"What is it Soarin'?"
"Well, after you found me at the academy before the Best Young Flyer competition, did you do anything to the obstacle course or…?"
"Oh no, of course not- that would've been cheating. You did all that on your own."
Soarin' and Spitfire were walking through the streets of Cloudsdale, back to Spitfire's house. They walked through the streets, enjoying the stars and crescent moon that Princess Luna had given them on this most wonderful night. Spitfire leaned against Soarin' for support- their bout of lovemaking had made it a bit uncomfortable for her to walk. Soarin' was a little uncomfortable as well, but he endured, knowing that his discomfort was minor compared to hers. But still, both enjoyed the other's closeness and took full advantage of it, kissing and rubbing against one another affectionately.
They walked in silence, save for a few foallish giggles, until Soarin' began uncertainly, "Uh, Spitfire?"
"Hmm?"
"Tomorrow, after practice… do you want to go see a movie?"
She rubbed her neck against his, making him blush a little. "I'd love to."
Before long, the two reached the edge of Cloudsdale, where Spitfire's house was. Soarin' knew where it was on a map, but in reality he'd never actually seen in for himself. "Well, here we are," he said, as she climbed up the stairs leading to her front door. "I… guess I'll see you tomorrow, Spitfire."
"What, you're not going to come inside?" She looked back at him, genuinely hurt. Without any further prompting, Soarin' trotted up the steps in front of the door and into the house.
Spitfire had barely locked her front door when she threw herself at Soarin' and pulled him into a deep kiss. By some miracle, the two managed to stumble their way through her darkened house and into her bedroom. She pushed him onto her bed, and climbed on top of him, resuming her kiss. In spite of how tired he was, he began to grow hard, and the pressure began to build- he started to grind his hips against hers again, secretly hoping for another "session."
Spitfire realized what he was doing, and pulled away from his kiss. "Mmph… Soarin', we shouldn't," she said reluctantly.
Reluctantly, he stopped. "Can I… rub against you again?"
"I don't want us to get all… messy."
"Well, can I kiss you at least?"
Spitfire pulled him into a deep kiss; when she pulled away, she replied, "You don't even have to ask."
They kissed again- a sweet, gentle kiss that made the back of Soarin's neck tingle. It was, in his opinion, the best kiss he'd ever had, even better than his first kiss just a few hours earlier. But after a few moments, he pulled away- no small feat with Spitfire lying on top of him. "Is there something wrong, Soarin'?" she asked.
"No… I just wanted to say… I love you."
She gave him a small peck on the lips. "I love you too." She looked down silently at him for a few moments, as though thinking, "Soarin', do you remember the day we met?"
"Of course I do. How could I not?"
"Well, do you remember the date?"
"Uh, why?"
"Just think about it."
It took a few moments, but the answer came to him. "Yeah, it was… April 30th. Wait a minute… that's today!"
She smiled. "I'm glad you remember."
"You… you planned this, didn't you?
"The truth is, I didn't." He saw her blush. "I was actually planning to ask you out a couple days from now. But I found you by yourself in the locker room, I remembered what day it was, and… well, everything just kind of fell into place."
He craned up his neck to kiss her. "Thank you. But, can I ask you one last thing?"
"Sure."
"…Why me?"
"Why not? You taught me how to fly, remember?"
"Well yeah, but I was just trying to help. Anypony would've done that."
"But not just anypony did that. You did." She touched a hoof to his chest. "You helped me. You believed in me, when nopony else would… even me." She paused. "Do you still believe in me?"
"Of course I do. Even after you left, I never stopped believing in you."
"I'm glad. Because I never stopped believing in you either." She wrapped her legs tightly around Soarin'; he returned the favor a few moments later. It felt… nice, to be held that way. For a long while, neither said anything, and simply held each other. Eventually though, Soarin' broke the silence.
"Earlier, you said you wanted to know all my fantasies, right Spifire?"
"Right."
"Well, I want to make a deal- I'll tell you all my fantasies… if you tell me all of yours."
She kissed him. "Deal."
"So, can you…"
"Not tonight, sweetheart." Soarin' blushed a little. "But I'll make it up to you in the morning."
They kissed again. It felt like something out of a movie- like it was just too good to be real. Soarin' didn't care though. Whether it… whether anything that had happened was real or not, it was still the best night of his young life, and he would never forget it. Of course, he would be quite thankful he hadn't been dreaming or gone insane when he woke up the next morning to find Spitfire straddling him, raring to go. But for now at least, he was happy.
The exhaustion of the day's "activities" inevitably caught up with him, and he slowly drifted away into sleep, his dreams filled with a certain yellow mare. He never knew that when that same mare fell asleep as well that night, her dreams were filled with a certain blue colt.
They fell asleep with their lips still pressed together.
