Jerk to the Porn; Bang the Pornstar
B & AiD

The best thing about living alone was being able to jerk off in peace after a long, tiring day. Spike swung the door shut behind him with a swing of his tail, sighing a breath at relief now that he’d finally escaped the eye of the public. Acting professional, keeping up appearances, it was all pretty draining. Luckily, he knew the perfect way to unwind.

He’d often wondered how mares did it—a couple of glasses of wine, a few scented candles, freshly drawn bath… must’ve been annoying to put together. It was much simpler for him, all he needed was his couch, his widescreen, and a box of tissues. Maybe a beer or two if he was in the mood.

And after the fiasco work had been today? He was already at the fridge, picking out a couple of lagers, mentally running through his catalogue of frisky flicks. He already knew which one he was going to watch, of course, but he liked to give himself the illusion of choice.

He’d only really watched one of them since he picked it up, it made the rest look bland by comparison.

And that’s because it starred his best friend and longtime crush, Rarity.

A small sigh as he looked down at the cover—Rarity’s ass on full view as she ate out a cream coloured pegasus he didn’t know the name of—and his cock responded as if by anticipative instinct. He already knew what came next, the scenes imprinted on his mind.

But that still had nothing on the act of reliving them, envisioning himself there with her. Spike popped the tape into the VCR, glancing away as he hit rewind, not wanting to spoil the scene for himself with a bunch of disjointed, reversed motions.

When it had finally reached the beginning again, he hit play for what must have been the thousandth time. Spike’s hand was loosely grasped around his hardening shaft, eye narrowing to tunnel vision as he let himself be taken away by what appeared on the screen. The details of his apartment blurred into obscurity as he watched the camera pan in on Rarity, lounging on a sunbed, sand all around her.

The first scene was such a tease, she’d gently roll her body and run her hooves over her fur, softly gasping and twitching as she passed over multiple erogenous zones. Spike had always wondered if she put on the moans, if they were meant to get the viewer in the mood, but he was sure the later ones couldn’t have been faked.

She continued in this manner for a while, a skintight pair of stripey socks on her hind hooves, kicking her legs up and winking at the camera. Spike rolled his length between his claws, stiff and pulsing as he watched Rarity lick a forehoof and drag it down her body in the gentlest of teasing motions. The slick hoof pulled at her fur like a static shock, and Spike could feel one coursing through his own body at the sight alone.

Another moan from the screen, and he struggled to hold back his own. The camera tilted downwards, zooming and focusing on the mare’s plush, slappable cheeks, each partially covered by slim, purple lingerie. That wasn’t what finally got the moan out of him: it was the wet spot developing at the centre of her crotch.

Spike felt his cock twitch. Knowing teasing would get him no further, he stopped passing his length from one claw to the next. With steady determination, he wrapped the digits of his left claw around his base. He didn’t begin jerking right away, he knew better than to cut the show short.

Rarity relented in her rubbing, her gaze set on the camera, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted. There was a pant on her lips, half from exertion, half from exhilaration. Without breaking eye-contact with the viewer, she slid her hoof through the softness of her underbelly, bringing it lower and closer to exactly what Spike desperately wanted to see.

Her hoof pressed against the fabric of her lingerie, rubbing up and down over her crotch, over her wet-spot, along her concealed pussy. The idea of it, the suspense of the reveal—Spike had seen it all countless times, and yet, seeing his love grind her hoof, driving it along the smooth surface of her crotch, it never failed to get his claw stroking his cock in tandem, his jerks matching the ambient background beat.

Spike threw back his head with a moan of pleasure and resentment. Each stroke of his claw, agonizingly slow along his length, paying attention to each facet of it, demanded that he pick up the speed, that he tighten the grip along his girth—the base of his cock ached, and desperately wanted him to remedy the problem.

But that wouldn't be happening until Rarity took off her fucking panties.

And she did. By Celestia—and all other deities whose names aren’t to be uttered during masturbation—the unlikely pornstar’s hoof ceased in its motion, much like how he stopped his stroking. His cock twitched in displeasure, needing the opposite of that to be applied to it, now.

The aching worsened; the porno only got better.

Rarity rolled onto her side, moaning in surprise at her own action, giggling softly at the camera. Then, without missing a beat, her gaze settled on her flank, flicking between her doughy cheeks and the recording camera. He loved the way she admired herself, the confidence, the vanity. She knew she had an ass worth crying over.

Spike leaned back further into the couch, biting his bottom lip out of compulsive habit. Below, the tip of his dick oozed with pre, coating his length as it dribbled ever downward. Every twitch of his cock, every throb, it was a constant, horrible reminder of the burning inside him, of the release that demanded to be worked toward—resisting that urge brought about a strange sensation, one that built and welled outwards, growing to unbearable proportions: the only way to make get rid of it was to grip his dick and never let go.

Resisting temptation of finishing early was no easy feat, especially when Rarity was working her forehooves into each of her flanks, softly rubbing and kneading them together like fresh dough. A sudden gasp, a long moan, hooves pressing into flesh, rubbing against fur.

Fuck it. Spike gripped his cock and began jerking furiously, alleviating its aching, supplementing it with another sensation; one immeasurably superior to anything he’d felt before. He could feel theplushness of her flanks, how softand supplethey'd feel in his claws. He'd fill each of his palms with her cheeks, grabbing and slapping and slowly spreading them to reveal her tight cooch.

And just as quickly as the scene began, it had come to an end. The sudden and intensive jerking slowed down; Spike knew what came next. Rarity—feeling herself up until her cheeks were red—delivered a slap, soft but pronounced, along both of her flanks. The resulting sound almost made Spike cum there and then, but he held himself back if only for what came next.

Rarity rolled onto her back with a pant, raised her hind legs and rested on her flanks. Sticking out her tongue at the camera, she brought her forehooves back up to her ass, but instead of working them, she pulled against the lingerie, taut against her fur and her ass, beginning to push back the fabric.

The best part, and quite possibly, the worst part about Rarity was that everything she did was planned, that she knew exactly what the viewer wanted to see, and more importantly, how to keep that viewer on edge. Spike knew this better than any other viewer; most would have come before the underwear came off, but he switched from jerking to just squeezing his cock as sporadically as possible.

“Mmmhmm,” Rarity moaned from the screen, pouting her lips. “Oh my, now isn't this a problem?” Her embarrassed gaze settled on the viewer, on Spike, as she phrased her shame. “It would appear my flanks are rather large for my choice of clothing.” She batted her eyelashes. “However will I get this fabric off of me?” Her voice dripped violet voracity, her voluptuous curves vivaciously shaking as Spike verged on volcanic eruption.

A soft, dulcet voice from off-screen answered: “How about I help with that? I don’t have a horn like you, but these wings are pretty damn capable...”

Spike had always been jealous of mares for the sole fact of them being mares. The things he would do while in their bodies, the things he would do to other mares bodies—thinking about the possibility were always worth a wanking session, but none of them, not even one, compared to the jealousy he felt toward the pegasus that appeared on the screen.

The lucky mare that got to fuckhis Rarity.

The viewer didn't see her face at first, but instead, they were treated to her cream-coated backside. Rarity, faking surprise, nodded her head, and in a second, the pegasus had settled down between the former's legs, letting her wings flare open, their tips coming into contact with Rarity’s luscious cheeks.

“Hmm...” The pegasus slipped the tips of her wings beneath the fabric, pressing against her white fur and pushing against the lingerie. Her muzzle wrinkled. “Looks like somepony was having fun in the sun.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s enough fun to be had for two, darling.” Rarity's crotch was revealed to the camera once again, only this time, because the lingerie was taut, thanks to the wings pulling them back, the lips of Rarity's pussy, puffy and soft, pressed against the fabric, perfectly outlining themselves to the viewer.

Spike could handle the occasional touch. He brought his claw to his tip, squeezing non-stop as the pussy pushed harder and grew wetter on the screen; he ran the pre over his hands, lathering it from base to tip.

“Hmm.” The pegasus rose from between the unicorn's legs. “Seems your swimsuit is too small for your flanks.” She shifted to the side, arching an eyebrow, brown tail flicking back and forth. “Any reason for that?”

“Darling, do yourself a favor and drop this act before it even begins.” Rarity arched her body, wiggling her posterior, swaying her flanks ever so slightly. “I can tell by your eyes alone that my flanks are a trait to be admired, a trick only accomplished by going a size below.” The hint of a smirk on her lips, she turned to face her visitor. “Now, are you going to undress me or not?”

Spike yelped as his claw went an inch lower than before, teetering on the edge of climax. To his eyes and to his dick, Rarity was perfection—both in body and personality. She was such a tease, that was sure, but the only thing that made the sensation unbearable was the fact that she knew it.

Rarity knew she was a fucking tease, that she was springing these little games, and what was worse was that she still played along—playing the victim to the plans she concocted. She was always a step ahead, even when she pretended to lag behind, and that quality, that feminine superiority was enough to subdue even the most confident stallion, dragon, or heck, mare.

“Now then,” Rarity began, “while the tips of your wings feel divine on my flanks, I'm afraid they're just not going to do the trick.” She shook her head and smirked for the camera. “No, no. You'll simply have to use your teeth instead.”

The pegasus blinked at the request, but after a few silent seconds, nodded her head anyway. She began to slip back the tips of her wings, but was stopped when hooves held them down, looking up at the unicorn.

“Why are you taking away your wings?” Rarity asked, not intending to wait for a response. “I said use your teeth, darling.” Her head fell back, resting into the sand. “You may resume helping me.”

Spike wanted to chuckle as his jerks were stretching further and he was gripping harder—if anypony else spoke to him in such a way, he'd let them see the edge of his fangs before replying, letting them know exactly whowas in charge. But with Rarity? Nothing got him hotter.

The pegasus obviously felt the same way, for she dove straight in without restraint. She parted her lips and gripped the edge of the fabric with her teeth, lightly tugging at them, much to the enjoyment of their owner as she worked them down her hind legs.

It was time for the reveal, for the main event, for the “holy fuck I can finally start beating off again” moment. Rarity, head pushed back, softly crying out, had the full globe of her flanks slowly being revealed, slowly being freed as another mare tugged away at the single item of clothing that kept her modest.

Once the lingerie was pulled half-way down her flank, there was a noticeable bounce as the flesh of her ass jiggled and shook, a ripple coursing through her fur, causing Spike to go from jogging to sprinting.

Then, only a few seconds later, the lingerie slipped off the Rarity's backside, stretched by her parted and raised legs. Below and between them, finally free and in the open wind, her pussy was exhibited to the camera, the fur of her vulva slick from her juices.

It was a sight that never got old. It never failed to blow Spike's mind—he’d never expected to even see the bare crotch of his love, not to mention her pussydripping with juices. It looked better than any of his vague fantasies could muster, and the sight of it always sent his claw into full turbo, whether he wanted to go over the edge or not.

“Bringing the water to the sand, are you?” The pegasus teased while pulling the lingerie from between Rarity’s legs, finally pulling them off and tossing them to the side. She looked back down at her, stealing a glance at the treasure between her legs. “I don't suppose you'll be needing help with something else, will you?”

Rarity raised her head. “Do the same thing again,” she instructed while tilting her muzzle, “but this time, use your tongue instead.” And just like that, without any shame or suspense, let her head plop back on the sand, calmly awaiting what came next.

Spike never understood the hesitation here: were it him, he'd be on his knees in a second, and with his serpent-like tongue, would explore every inch of Rarity's most intimate areas. He'd have to live through the pegasus for that fantasy, for she too had fallen on four of her legs, raising her barrel enough for the camera to display under it and through her legs, where Rarity’s crotch was still on full display.

Then, pushing out her own covered flanks, the pegasus ducked her head underneath her barrel, shooting a sultry, knowing smile at the camera. Afterwards, with a lick at her lips, she stuck her muzzle at the entrance of Rarity's pussy, and in sticking out her tongue, began to lap around and against her tight hole, swirling motions and soft breaths against her as she flicked her tongue around and around.

She moaned at the taste; Rarity moaned at the sensuality, the feeling of being eaten out.

Spike had to bite his bottom lip to hold back his moans, to hold back his pleasure, to keep him in the game for just a tad longer. His body was limp along the couch, his legs spread and feet held by the floor; something was building in the base of his cock, that prevented him from stopping until its need was satisfied.

There was always something about this scene, this very moment that expedited the process for him—the director, or whoever captured the shot, was a genius. The picture consisted of the pegasus, arching her back in the fashion of a cat, her ass pushed out, her bikini-bottom struggling to keep her flanks together; the top of her fuzzy crack caught by the camera.

Between the pegasus’ legs, her muzzle was buried between his love's folds, her tongue lapping away inside Rarity's pussy, who moaned and squealed like a little sub, even if she wasn’t displaying any of those signs. It only took a few more moments for juices to start dribbling down onto the cream pegasus’ lips, coating her muzzle as she continued her work.

Spike was thankful for his previous efforts. He felt himself in the same state of Rarity, of nearing their climaxes, of someone or something going to work on their pussy or cock to bring them to their personal nirvana. Even if he couldn't form a connection with the mare in real life, he could at least experience these things with her, get off with her.

Then he noticed it, at the corner of his eye, a similar wet-spot developing at the crotch of the pegasus's swimwear. He tried to never give her too much credit, to keep his eyes steady on the body of his love, but as attraction went, he had to give a few jerks in devotion to the winged-pony's slim body, she really was something.

“Mmhmm. Darling.” Rarity's head rose once more, only this time, enough to see along her lover's underbelly. “Seems like you're enduring an accident akin to mine. Heed my advice and go bare.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” the pegasus replied as she slipped her muzzle back from the mare's folds. They were slick and dripping, flowing with desire. “Being able to see and grab flanks other than your own, to taste what I’ve got down there. What makes you think you should get a chance?”

“Because you'll get to touch more of mine,” Rarity replied without missing a beat, “and we'll be able to remedy each other's accidents once we finish.” She cast a glance to the waves that crashed in the background. “Or you could cool yourself in the water, if that's the way you'd rather finish.”

Control. No matter the location or her condition, Rarity managed to always to keep herself in power, to have the other pony in a state where they had to please her, and not the other way around. The pegasus knew better than to pretend that she had a choice in the matter, and in flaring out her wings, slipped each of her tips underneath the fabric of her swimwear.

It was much easier to get off, mainly because there was no fucking teasing involved.

“My my, wasn't that easy?” came Rarity's voice, but Spike was too focused on the slowly revealing backside of the pegasus to look at his love's face. The pegasus had a nice ass, not nearly as big or as round as the unicorn, but it was more proportionate to the rest of her body, not to mention firmer.

“That's because I don't dress to impress,” the pegasus replied, and in tossing aside the fabric on her left wing, took a step over Rarity's raised hind legs. “I act to appease needy little mares.” Then, without confirmation, she dropped ass atop of Rarity's crotch, slamming their pussies together. “Ones such as yourself, miss.”

“You planning to take me for a ride?” Rarity purred, eyes scrunching shut as the pegasus righted herself atop her, sitting up with her wings spread, tail draped over Rarity’s thighs entwined with her own. She began to rock back and forth, slowly pressing their wet folds together, and the sound of it was accompanied by conjoined moans from each of them, the pegasus leading and steadily picking up the pace.

This was the part that Spike had never managed to make it past, his breaking point. He was jerking like crazy, teetering on the edge of oblivion as he watched their soft, tight bodies glide, his solitary thought the idea of sliding his cock between those two pussies and being massaged by each of them as their owners made out with each side of his neck…

...Imagine his surprise when his reverie was broken by a loud knock at the door.

“Fuck!” Spike gripped his cock so hard it almost hurt to keep himself from cumming, stilling his entire body and knowing that if he so much as moved, he’d shoot his load all over his living room. Realising the the film was still playing, that the sounds of Rarity and her partner were blaring out at a loud volume, he fumbled for the remote, looking to shut the thing off before whoever was at the door bore witness.

Where was the fucking remote?! Why was it that of all times, now was when it chose to disappear on him? The sounds from the television, the panic, the still rock hard cock between his legs, the increasingly insistent thudding of a hoof against the door, what the fuck was he meant to do?

“I, uhh.. Fuck. Coming!” That’s exactly what he was meant to be doing, at least. Scowling, Spike searched and searched from the remote, trying to ignore the perfect scene that was still playing out before him.

Still no luck. Why did the gods hate him so? He looked down at his still stiff cock, knowing that he’d have to answer the door soon. He’d already made it clear that he was in, after all. Why hadn’t he just pretended to not be home?

His cock didn’t seem content to acquiesce his need for flaccidity, no matter how many times he batted it with his hand. “Grr, go away!”

Another look at the screen, another twitch from downstairs. “Look, I know you want that, we both do, but later!”

Still, his body refused to listen. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. “GrannySmithGrannySmithGrannySmithGrannySmithandheroldmarefriends.” Worked like a charm, always did, and his cock began to retract into his sheath.

Still nothing he could do about the porn without finding the remote, but he could only hope the visitor wouldn’t hear it.

Walking out into the hallway, doing his best to put on a genuine smile, he pressed his eye against the peephole, curious as to who had seen fit to distract him from his good time.

A snow white pornstar stood on the other side.

Author's Note

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