The room was quiet. Apt for the night. Luna’s light shone through the open window; which carried from the outside a warm summer breeze – a quaint gift provided by the season. The room in question belonged to a colt named Featherweight. The walls displayed acutance, transitioning gradually from black, to grey, and finally stark white. The walls were also home to a select few pictures, affectionately framed pieces of captured moments from photographers he admired, or of some he took himself – typically cherished memories, or of scenery that provided a degree of awe upon observation. However, of all the pictures he had taken, of all the albums he filled up, his most precious picture was kept by his bedside within a small varnished frame. The moonlight made clear it was a picture of a colt – with a white coat, light brown splotches, a dark tangelo mane with deep brown eyes. He had the backdrop of the ocean behind him, and Celestia’s sun falling behind the far off horizon. The attribute of the photo that he treasured most, which never failed to elate him whenever he looked at it, was the colt’s smile. A smile prompted not by ‘cheese,’ but a soft ‘I love you,’ a moment that had been forever captured.
The colt captured in the picture was in the room, as was its taker, both seemingly trying to vie for control over the exact middle of the bed. On their sides, squirming atop the sheets; pushing against one another, chest to chest, belly to belly, mouth to mouth. Despite the already prevailing summertime heat, which was only eased slightly by the open window, they found the warmth of each other pleasant. The wet smacking of lips, the swapping of saliva and wrestling of tongues wasn’t enough to disrupt the tranquil quiet, which aided the two of them to focus on each other. Nothing else to distract their senses. Between kisses on the lips, one would find another place to plant their lips. Neck, cheek, or barrel. Each time inhaling deep the scent of the other, which were made rich by the heat, eliciting sweat from the pores. Featherweight could smell earth and Genoa cake. Pipsqueak, unsurprisingly, smelt ink, but also coconut, likely from the shower he had that evening. Regardless, the colts found each other intoxicating in that regard; their rubbing against one another could have been interpreted as an attempt to get the scent of the other on their body. Their adoration of each other’s forms was also present in the way they worked their hooves, feeling around each other, rubbing and pressing, massaging and stroking.
Featherweight began to give out little gasps into his lover’s mouth. This prompted by Pipsqueak's gentle presses at the joints of his sensitive wings, followed by strokes down the margin, before ending at the carpal joint. To Featherweight, Pipsqueak’s hooves seemed to emanate static from them, sending electrifying waves of gentle pleasure through the colt, making his legs quiver, and his heart do dances in his chest. Pipsqueak had no vulnerable spots like that, if he did, the photographer would know. But the gradual escalation of arousal made his hooves act on a risqué directive, making them more erotic in their bodily exploration. They gradually descended down from the colt’s withers, to his back, and finally his haunches. Featherweight admired the taut muscle under his hooves, making the younger, smaller colt, feel strong and fit in comparison to his lither self. He massaged against Pip’s cutie mark, pushing the colt’s lower half against him; feeling his sheath and delicate orbs press against his own. This act made his face feel like it was on fire, but the pegasus knew his lover appreciated occasional breaks in his meekness, even if he could only ever summon such courage when Pipsqueak was near.
Their growing arousal manifested as moans, and as subtle, instinctive, thrusts of their hips. Featherweight’s cheeks were already reddened, but now it was Pipsqueak who began to blaze in the face. The sensation was new to him, and if Featherweight was honest, it was new to him as well. Pipsqueak knew what he was beginning to feel press against his stomach. He wasn’t that naive. He didn’t look. Didn’t want to appear inept, or a loser who knew nothing about sex. Of the basics: he knew what a penis was, and he had enough experience with his own to know it felt good when… stimulated. He also learnt of another area recently that felt… good, when touched. Someplace deep inside him. And if Featherweight researched ahead of time, like he had, then he surely knew of it too.
Lust fanning their desires for one another, both were drawn into an even deeper kiss, their lips locked into a seemingly unbreakable seal; their tongues playfully fighting with one another. Their cocks, now fully unsheathed, twitched against each other. Clueless, just letting pleasure guide them, their continued squirming meant that their rods ground against one another, generating a pleasurable friction, far surpassing the feeling of their own hooves. Occasionally, either colt would break away from the other’s kiss to release a moan, before clumsily reinitiating the duel of tongues. Eventually, Pipsqueak wrapped his hooves around Featherweight in a gentle but firm embrace, granting the colt the leverage he needed to rock his hips back and forth as the lither colt. Featherweight didn’t object to Pipsqueak taking control. It was assuring, natural, in a way, and he showed his approval with a pleasured grunt; just as Pipsqueak’s medial ring passed over his own.
Pipsqueak continued to rock back and forth, adopting a slow and careful rhythm. Eventually the friction between their turgid cocks was eased into a slick slippery gliding, as their twin pricks leaked profusely with pre, wetting both their dicks; filling the air with a potent musk, which filled both their nostrils despite the open window. Their kissing became sloppy, spit and precum becoming alike as they both dribbled from their source. Pipsqueak wasn’t aware of it, but his grip around Featherweight had become tighter, his gyrations speeding up. Featherweight couldn’t complain about his coltfriend’s crushing embrace, as his bliss far outweighed the pain of it. As he neared the edge that would push him into orgasm, his moans became whorish mewls into his coltfriend’s mouth.
The kiss was reluctantly broken every few seconds for both colts to greedily swallow back some air, filling their lungs fully before smashing their lips back together in a coordinated oral assault. Their cocks continued to twitch and throb as they rubbed together, each unprompted tremble squeezing out more and more precum – their cocks so wet they glistened. It wasn’t too long before their girths became painfully hard, swelling as their tips flared, signalling inevitable orgasm. Pipsqueak froze as ecstasy washed over him, his balls contracting as cum began to spurt from his twitching stallionhood. Thick strands of spunk firing from his cock like a cannon, splattering against Featherweight’s chest as he rode on Bliss’ coattails. Featherweight, upon his partner’s sudden halt, gave a sudden thrust, which finally tipped him over the edge. His sticky member gave a mighty spasm as its seed spurted out, his balls emptying their contents against Pipsqueak’s stomach.
Both colts went limp against one another, the endorphin high leaving them both with contented smiles; panting. Pipsqueak softened his grip around the other colt, but kept him close, nuzzling lovingly into his neck, planting little pecks on Featherweight’s nape – tasting sweat on his lips - and inhaling the wonderful scent of sex and coconut; their half-soft cocks still pressed together between them. Not too long after, Pipsqueak felt something graze across the tip of his member, a timid touch, that made him give a little gasp. He saw Featherweight sporting a small grin, and looking between them, he saw the pegasus' hardening shaft. Pipsqueak reached for it with less timidity than his coltfriend, wrapping gently around it, feeling its thickness and heat. Featherweight’s hips jutted against his touch, an act seemingly done on reflex, the colt releasing a low moan. Pipsqueak, while new to actually holding another colt’s penis, was familiar enough with how to treat one. He gave it a few strokes, going down the medial ring and then back up to the unflared crown, each brush over these sensitive spots causing the cock’s owner to lightly thrust against his hoof. Pipsqueak became enamoured with the feel of it. And the sight of it. And its musk. His coltfriend’s cock.
The pinto pony felt his own member begin to harden again, slick and sticky with semen, the rod was again eager to be stimulated. Featherweight felt his heart thump, knowing what was coming, his rectum gave anticipatory clench. With heavy exhales, the colts manoeuvred into a new position. Soon, Featherweight was on his back, whilst his coltfriend’s body pressed into him from above. There was some awkward fidgeting, and some giggling, both colts glowing with their delight. Soon, they became awash with a calm that came about when Pipsqueak’s dick nudged against Featherweight’s taint - both realising how close they were to hitting the mark. They both locked eyes, a sudden trepidation filling them both, nought a sound in the room except their breathing. Pipsqueak looked to his left, watching as Featherweight wrapped a hoof around his own; squeezing it gently, reassuringly. When he found his eyes drifting back to the photographer, he saw a nod, and confirming smile.
With a gulp, and held breath, Pipsqueak angled his hips so his cock was aimed lower. He felt his member prod against the puffy ring that outlined Featherweight’s backdoor. Looking to Featherweight, he received an apprehensive nod as well as the sight of pink tinged cheeks under moonlight. Gently, biting his lip, Pipsqueak eased forwards; applying just the right level of firm to feel the entrance start to give way. Featherweight exhaled gently, his chest rising and falling as he attempted to relax himself, holding Pipsqueak’s hoof close to his chest. The fluids that lathered his cock aided the endeavour. After a full minute of apprehensive poking and pushing, both colts gasped at the new sensation together; Pipsqueak’s member popping into Featherweight’s tight colt-hole.
Featherweight squirmed uncomfortably. It felt weird. A foreign intruder. A stranger in his arse. He felt his hole stretch around it, squeezing it, neither forcing it out nor trying to bring it in. However, the thought of the act itself was enough to make his hardened cock throb, and it was clear from Pipsqueak’s expression he was already enjoying the sensation. For Pipsqueak, it was tight, warm and wet. Almost enough to make his virgin cock spurt his load, the recent expulsion over Featherweight’s and his own cock helped prevent him from cumming prematurely. He gently pushed a few more inches inside, both for his own and Featherweight’s sake. After a quarter of his length was pushed into the sphincter, Pipsqueak froze when he heard Featherweight groan, forcing open his eyes to see his lover wincing. However, he also noted the twitching of his cock, and the fast rise and fall of his chest.
He had glided over the g-spot.
Now assured the pleasure wasn’t one-sided encouraged Pipsqueak on, his body compelling himself to plant a kiss upon Featherweight’s lips before he started to shove more of his throbbing meat into Featherweight’s tight hole. Slowly, as Pipsqueak planted more of himself in the ivory colt, he physically felt the pegasus loosen; the colt’s body relaxing and thus making his entry easier as a result. He required a considerable exercise of will to stop himself from thrusting the entirety of his cock within Featherweight - made all the more difficult when his medial ring was enveloped, sending blissful shivers throughout him - but the feeling that came next made his patience all the more worth it.
With a quivering moan, Pipsqueak hilted himself completely within Featherweight’s butt, fully enveloped in the colt’s tight clenches. Featherweight became a wonderful kind of full. Not the bloated sort after a meal that was too filling, but rather, the kind of fullness that he knew he could only achieve with somepony else. Somepony special. He had thrown his head back when he felt the full girth of his coltfriend’s cock twitch against his prostate, his cock throbbing in time with Pipsqueak’s - releasing little mewls. A further gasp was prompted from the pegasus when he felt Pipsqueak slowly inch out, a task that was made all the more pleasurable by Featherweight’s blissful squeezing.
Pipsqueak retreated half of his meat from Featherweight’s coaxing canal, suppressing his moaning with a bitten lip. Looking at Featherweight’s pleasured expression, and leaking cock, he got the silent confirmation he needed to continue. Leaning down to lock lips with the older colt, Pipsqueak fed more of his mottled cock into the tight hole; lurching his lips forward to initiate the kiss mid moan, swapping spit and sparring tongues. The act of making love - the term fucking was something Pipsqueak couldn’t bring himself to call the act - came rather naturally to Pipsqueak. It was, after all, within his natural instincts to breed…
Pipsqueak continued bringing his hips back and forth, moving with a deliberate slowness, easing himself in and out; shivering at the pleasurable grind. With one hoof wrapped around Pipsqueak's hoof, Featherweight coiled his other around Pipsqueak’s neck, wanting nothing more than to bring him closer and deeper into the kiss - his swollen stallionhood neglected as it gave several wanting twitches. Pipsqueak wasn’t ignorant to Featherweight’s penile plight, feeling it bop and throb against his belly. He felt no apprehension, especially whilst in the throes of his own sexual relishment, to wrap a hoof around his lover’s slender member. He squeezed on the up pump, whilst gliding down with ease on the downward slide; each time he crossed over the medial ring he savoured the feeling of it throbbing in his grip, and its owner’s mewls. With this, Featherweight’s ass seemed to clench around him, his orbs twitching at the combined pleasures - which only exacerbated Pipsqueak’s bliss, as the already snug hole became vice-like in its tightness. Pipsqueak had to use more force to bring himself out, Featherweight’s hole almost seemed like it was trying to keep him in. But he wasn’t complaining. He had been deliberately trying not to go in too harsh on his coltfriend’s tushy, his hips trembling with restraint. But now, he didn’t have to hold himself back.
He felt Featherweight seize beneath him as he lanced his member deep into the colt, the unflared tip punching past his g-spot, ecstasy crashing into him like a tsunami. Pipsqueak was quick to pull out before slamming all of his inches back in, both colts breaking the kiss to throw their heads back in moaning. The sound of Pipsqueak’s ferocious thrusting joined alongside their vocal expulsions of ecstasy, the fleshy sounds of his balls smacking against Featherweight’s rump made the moment feel like something out of a piece of erotica. Neither would forget the sound.
After several more thrusts, Pipsqueak felt his own bottom flex and tighten as he gave one final stuttering thrust into Featherweight’s ass. Featherweight felt the member swell in his hole, the flaring of his coltfriend’s cock spreading him wider and pushing against his special spot harder - his hips giving an involuntary thrust against Pipsqueak’s rubbing hoof, his own hole-puncher swelled, his cum churners contracting as he released his loudest moan yet. Pipsqueak, meanwhile, buckled onto his lover, as he emptied his balls into Featherweight’s spasming hole.
Pipsqueak felt his belly become sticky again with his lover’s seed, content and tired enough to lie upon his lithe frame. However, a wheeze and tap from Featherweight prompted him to widen his eyes in panic, popping his softening cock out the colt’s ass before rolling off him and onto his own side, where he released an awkward chuckle - the pegasus giving a reassuring smile as he breathed, laying still and content.
They both felt sticky. Primarily because they were. But neither felt compelled to shower, not just yet. Nor remove the sheets that were now assuredly stinking of sweat and sex. Instead, Pipsqueak shifted himself closer to the pegasus, pushing his head against the nape of his neck to kiss it; Featherweight still holding onto his hoof tightly as he savoured his post-orgasm. Pipsqueak glanced a look at the clock. It felt like an hour, but saw that he lasted only two minutes. A fact he found funny, but also a tad embarrassing, but his coltfriend’s sudden hug made those feelings evaporate within an instant... as did the rest of the night actually.
There was no discussion, just a return to the silence and hot air of before. They held each other tight, chest to chest; finding comfort in each other’s closeness. Even in the midst of drowsiness, coming close to falling into Luna’s embrace for the night, they’d both stave it off with a kiss on the other’s lips or a loving nuzzle into the other’s cheek. Although, sooner or later, one failed to stave off sleep’s unrelenting chase. It was Featherweight, who fell asleep in Pipsqueak’s hooves, gently breathing under the pinto colt’s chin. Pipsqueak spent the last few minutes awake simply enjoying the feel of holding the colt close to him, resolute in his love for the colt, before, he too, fell to sleep…
The two dreamt of each other.
Author's Note
Think of this as a sequel to a not-yet-released fic currently in the works.
Hope you enjoyed. 
