We Bare Men

Trevor

A few hours after the party...

The Tawny Pegasus Pub

I sat at a bar having a drink, with my mind in a fog and in a mood.

Not the best place to be for a former alcoholic. But this was one of the classier dives in Canterlot. Which meant the drinks were quite low on proof, and catered to patrons only looking for exotic drink, and to have some pleasant conversation, and maybe company afterwards.

Which meant it was mostly empty, being late as it was. All the 'old money' went home a while ago.

There were still a few loitering around just as I was.

That nagging voice in my head was goading me to overindulge. But I managed to ignore it for the most part.

I came here to sulk.

The party went alright... until it didn't. Travis is getting hitched, Kylie was making it in life, and Krystal is in a herd.

And... Brad.

She. Fucked. Him!

Is that why I'm here; to drink my jealousy and sorrows away?

Was her proposal thought up before, or after they... co-mingled?

'Probably after', I thought bitterly.

I had to fight the urge to slam a fist on the counter.

This is what I do when things upset me. I brush it off at first, like it's nothing. Then later, when I'm in private, I finally vent.

Though it wasn't as private as I'd like.

Sometimes I use these feelings as "inspiration fuel" for my art. Other times, something gets broken. But tonight, I just wanted to hurt and feel sorry for myself.

...

Is that what I am to her? Sloppy seconds? The backup?

Brad had a talent for fucking things. It's what he's best at. As the party last night proved.

No.

I knew it would happen, it was a matter of time. And it was my fault for holding onto hope that we'd all be home where we belong a lot sooner.

And Krystal would've never chosen me, not first, and I needed to accept that.

Maybe I was more upset at that fact, instead of them sleeping together?

My anger and jealousy fought for dominance over my depression.

While I was having a pity party, I almost didn't catch the bar keeper placing another drink in front of me.

"Uh, I didn't order this?" I said in confusion.

Without a word the mustached stallion gestured with a nod down the bar.

I turned and beheld a real beauty of a Pegasus mare. I'd been in Equestria long enough to know the subtle differences in attractiveness; and I'd developed my own set of preferences.

This mare hit nearly every one of my check boxes.

She had big hair done up in gorgeous curls, white-gold Flaxen mane and tail, and a healthy peach-colored coat, the shade of which almost had me mistake her for a fair skinned human woman.

The mare wore a ruby red ensemble that made me instantly think of Marilyn Monroe, and her look was complete with the actresses signature beauty mark and baby-blue eyes.

I sat up straighter as she got out of her seat and sauntered over with a drink held in her Primary feathers.

That was a real trick to pull off, but she already had my attention on her flanks.

And what a rump on this mare!

Her dress only covered one side of those hypnotic curves. I couldn't make out the mark on this mare, but it was obviously Pegasus themed.

She emphasized each movement with a languid roll of her hips, even while taking a sip of her martini.

After the initial shock, I caught the signal to join her.

I pulled out a chair for her, before taking a sip of my new drink.

She softly cleared her throat. "I hope you don't mind some company, you looked a little lonely over here by yourself, mister..."

Oh. My. God. She's perfect!

She had that 'airy' European-English accent that I love in a woman.

"Trevor, thank you; miss?" I lifted my drink to hers in cheers, then we took a sip together as I awaited for her to introduce herself.

"Symbol, and I already know who you are, Trevor," she started with an air of seduction. "There's not been a newspaper printed these last few years that didn't have something to say about you Humans."

"All good, I hope." I said coyly.

"Most certainly, and... I'd like to personally thank you for sharing your culture and work for all of ponykind; if you'll forgive my forwardness."

"You're too kind, but I'm just a simple man trying to make his way in the world." She seemed to admire that. Score!

Symbol giggled. "Perhaps I was a bit too vague, what I meant was that I would like to get to know you better, if you catch my meaning?" She suggested.

My attention rose at that. "I will, if you'll forgive my bluntness, when I ask if you'd like to skip the pleasantries and head straight to my place?"

"Mister, those were my intentions exactly."

We quickly finished our drinks and ran out of there giggling like horny teenagers.

Canterlot, high-tiers, Art District.

She could barely keep her wings off me, and I was a bit overwhelmed at having such a thirsty mare reared up and pressing me against the wall.

Symbol's wings wrapped around my head and midsection. Her hooves pinning me against the wall of the lift as we ascended to my gallery-slash-studio apartment.

We were Frenching deeply all the way up. Practically attacking each other with our mouths.

I couldn't help squeezing that perfect rump.

In reaction she stood on one hindleg, grinding the other against mine.

I got her to stop and gasp as I reached under her red dress and stroked her mare pussy.

"No panties. Naughty filly," I stated devilishly between kisses, and bit into her neck.

She went weak in the knees, possibly instinctually wanting to kick away from the predator that had her by both of her most vulnerable spots.

With that lull in strength, I pinned her back, taking my hand and groping a handful of crotch-titty.

The globe of warm flesh felt so impossibility soft in my palm. Her firm teat poking against my touch.

Symbol cooed. "Mmhm, I always heard you were an artist in more ways than just canvas and sculptures, my human lover; so far, I'm a bit underwhelmed." She was playing, but I wasn't going to chance it.

I had to defend the honor of my species, after all.

"I'm going easy on you, but if you want; I can show you want I can do with bit of rope and some paint later." I smiled wolfishly down at her, purposely triggering that bit of instinctual fear ponies have of sharp teeth.

The terror was barely restrained in her expression. But there was lust and excitement there too.

I knew this is what mares wanted. They wanted to feel like they were in danger, without actually being in it.

They were addicted to the thrill of what "could happen".

Ding! The lifted opened up. Symbol pushed off and hovered a moment before landing just within the entrance of my living space.

"Oh! It's quite wonderfully spacious." She exclaimed and took to the air to stretch her wings.

The studio apartment could easily accommodate a herd of 4 or 5. With a 25 foot high ceiling and a loft.

But most of the space was taken up with tools of my craft. The windows ran from floor to ceiling and were enchanted with a dimming feature. A simple wave of a hand, wing, hoof, or horn, and one can blackout the sun.

Projects of Wood, metal, murals and canvasses lined the walls. Many were only half-finished. Much of the space was taken up by the smelter and the molds if my latest creation.

Seeing the molds picked at the wound in my chest, but I'd already chosen how to deal with the pain.

While Symbol admired my work, I put away her saddlebag by the door, and took off my formal jacket and tie.

"This is amazing, truly a masterpiece!" She compliments one of my works.

It was a picture of centaurs. Human ones, with winged humans- angels- and other human-hybrid mythological beings.

"Oh that? I was just messing around." I commented.

"Where's the bed?" Symbol asked.

I smiled and gestured at the loft upstairs.

She gave me a come hither look as she sauntered up the stair, rolling her glorious flanks, enticing me to follow.

Symbol reared up and half laid on my Princess-sized bed. Then gyrated her rump in my direction as I quickly unbuckled my belt and threw off my shoes; while she used a wing to lift up her dress, and the other to spread herself open, displaying a healthy pinkness within, while giving me a wink of her clit.

I noted her vulva had a beauty mark on the left lip. Cute.

I didn't want to wait anymore, and ground my crotch against her plot, before pulling her tail out of the way.

I took my 10-inch cock, and stepped back to work the tip between her pussy lips.

What? As if you wouldn't try an "Potion of Endowment" soon as you've heard of it.

I could've stopped anytime between 6, 8, or even 9 and 3/4 then call myself the "Hogwarts Express". But I found that 10 was a nice round number to stop at. I was probably twice as girthier than any normal man.

It was perfect for the mares.

Necessary, actually. My first time with a mare was... like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. I was perfectly average. Maybe slightly below. Though I'm sure the fatty pad on my bladder affected the experience... who am I kidding, it wouldn't have made a difference.

Now my insecurity was gone, and my fat with it.

It's thickness was enough to give the mares a stretch, but it was more for them to grip onto.

Although, managing the extra flesh while flaccid was like sporting a 7-inch half-chub at all times.

Hot wetness enveloped my shaft as I pushed in. I loved watching Symbol's wings twitch as she took my girth and length, her back arching and body quivering; but that was second to the sight of her vulva spreading around and engulfing my shaft.

She took all of me, with room to spare, it seemed. The texture of her vagina was incredible, subtle, with a few pronounced ridges, and they became more so as she squeezed around it, gripping my cock as if she didn't want to let me go.

I got to work pumping in and out of her. Focusing more on my own pleasure, i figured she'd become satisfied without me trying. So I relaxed and went with what felt best, letting the motions come naturally.

Sex was an incredibly fulfilling experience. It didn't matter whom I was with; I always felt a connection with my partner. It wasn't just bumping against a warm body.

This was an emotional reset for me. To let go of my frustrations and physically exhaust them out.

Symbol's pussy was wet at the start, but now she was soaking.

It always amazed me how something that felt so scalding hot, never actually burned. Ponies in general were warmer, but this Pegasus ran hot!

Soon my hands were gripping and pulling her flanks against my crotch, filling the room with the sound of wet, slapping flesh.

Plap, pop, plap, plap, pop, pop, pop!

Symbol was enjoying herself, if her quiet moans, increasing in volume, and squirming, becoming bucking backwards were any indication.

Regrettably, I only lasted about 2 minutes. Which was about 1 minute and 27 seconds more than her first orgasm; which drenched my crotch.

Even that meager time still far outpaced even the best studs.

I remembered to take a hand and pulled back on her withers, like the majority of mares liked. Emulating the bite of a stud.

That earned me an extra hard squeeze around my penis glans.

I felt that coil winding tighter, before it released. My cock pulsing inside Symbol's hot, twisting tunnel. My glazed shaft arched as I pulled out. Leaving behind a very happy and satisfied mare.

A drizzle of thick, glue-like cum followed after.

That required a different potion, and believe me, it's even more of a hassle... so I stopped using it and and cut back until my balls could pump as much as a cup of semen in the first round.

The alchemist said she'd taken liberties and adjusted it to compensate for the lack of a flare.

I didn't know what the zebra meant at the time, nor did I care to ask. But since then my loads were a lot "chunkier", had greater volume, and viscous as Elmer's glue.

Essentially whatever I put in, didn't usually come out, willingly, at least.

"Darling, was I not good enough? I didn't feel your flare inside me at all." Symbol sounded disappointed.

I leaned over and kissed her snout. "You were more than enough, my dear; we humans don't really have those," I informed her.

"Oh, how interesting... you're not turning me loose already, are you?" Symbol lifted herself off the bed with me as I went to disrobe the rest of the way.

"Not at all, sorry about the quick rut; I just needed to clear my head, before getting into it." I turned to find Symbol admiring my naked body, notably my butt.

"Then I'm glad to help with your process, master." Symbol followed my lead, and stripped off her dress. It was always funny to me how Pegasi could use their wings just like arms.

Funnier still, how bare these ponies looked after wearing clothes. Despite the majority always running around in the nude.

There she was, laying on my bed in nothing but her peachy-pink hide. Her hindleg dangling off the edge as her lustful baby blue eyes watched as I prepared the tools of my craft.

Such a pretty blonde bombshell. Her cutie mark was a heart with lines around it... a heartthrob. How novel.

'Master' was a proper title given to me as a result of my skills and trade; but it also doubled as a fetish for myself. And Symbol too, apparently; if that long "ah" in the middle of that word was anything to go by. She practically purred it.

Lord. Forgive me for what I'm about to do with this mare.

"Now, I believe I made a promise earlier?" I suggested, gathering art supplies and a bit of ribbon to use as rope. "Are you ready?"

"Yes sire, please, use my body as your canvas; make me into your next masterpiece." She flopped on her back and lay spread eagle, fully subjecting herself.

First, I bound her legs and then her wings. Wrapping her in a red ribbon as a gift to myself.

This was highly unusual for a one night stand, but I was in an unusual mood. And if this mare wanted it; I was going to take advantage of her willingness.

My brush highlighted her curves, following every inch of her supine figure. Tickling and caressing her skin, wherever it was exposed.

All the while Monologuing about how I found the historical sexuality and sensuality of "striping" inspiring, when Zebra stallions would "stripe" ponies they captured in olden times, during Equestria's great expansion.

Her sizeable clit winked in slow, hard, needy flexes. I could see the tip of her swollen pink pearl peeking over the rise of Symbol's pubic mount.

I was in control, but I always took a moment before indulging in Symbol's body to assess if I had her consent.

Symbol allowed me to nuzzle her belly and suckle at her ample teats; while pleasuring her with my fingers. Causing a sea-spray of marecum to ejaculate from her pussy, before she begged for reprieve.

I stood over Symbol, only her neck had any movement, and she took my cock in her mouth and down her throat, sucking another load out of me, I filled her belly and painted her face with more than just my seed alone.

Symbol's forelegs were completely bound, her rump up in the air, face buried into the sheets, while I took a firm hand and painted her flanks a new shade of red; and simultaneously made new music with her delicious squeals at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

She begged me to take her. So I did, but not as she expected, at first. It was fascinating to watch her eyes grimace and mouth open wide and teeth bared into a silent scream as I took her anally.

"Yes, yesh, yesh, yesh; plough me, plough my plothole! Ride me! Break me! Buck me harder!"

Symbol came so hard from anal, I felt the spray of her orgasm against my balls. And at the same time, unloaded deep in her body, all my inspiration and frustration.

Transforming the torrent of emotions within me into beautiful art, and leaving behind a collapsed, heaving, satisfied mess of a Pegasus mare.

I unbound her, and fell beside Symbol with every intention of passing out.

The session lasted for hours.

Symbol climbed on top of me and lapped at my shaft to coax me hard again.

"Please, let me fall asleep with you inside me, love." She whispered.

I slipped in and out of consciousness. The alcohol and physical exertion took it's toll.

I remember Symbol straddling my waist, her lifting up to sink my cock back in; both of us grinding into each other, until I blacked out.

I awoke sometime later in a haze, knowing my dick was semi-hard and in a warm, wet space. Symbol laid passed out on my chest.

Funny, despite their size--that being a small horse-- Pegasi weighed practically nothing.

My penis was sore, but that didn't stop me from using her body one last time.

After grinding against Symbol, listening to her quiet mewls as I pulsed weakly inside her; I stared up at the ceiling for hours.

Despite the warmth of Symbol's body on me, her soft touch, quiet breaths, and beating heart; I still felt the cold, hollow sting of loneliness.

I had it all.

Fame. Wealth. Respect. The company of beautiful mares at my beck and call...but it wasn't enough.

I was living without love.

And lonely is a man without love.