Delta shuffled the menu beneath her hooves. Places that offered ’petit dejeuner‘ were not exactly her cup of tea. Not for the first time, she considered just walking out. She’d purposefully arrived fifteen minutes late and still ended up arriving before Jet Stream, much to her chagrin.

Staring across the table at her was the bored waitress. The unicorn mare was an eclectic mix of formal style and punk; a sharp-looking vest and apron contrasted against her lip and eyebrow piercings, as she impatiently awaited Delta’s order.

Delta was sure that the only reason she was getting so much attention from this angsty server’s manager wanted to make sure that wife-beater wearing riff-raff like her either paid up… or cleared out…

“Uh… Can I just get a coffee?” Delta grunted, sliding the embossed menu across the table towards the waitress. The fact that it was the only item on the menu with a reasonable cost probably wasn’t helping her case.

“What kind of coffee, lady?” The young server sneered slightly as she looked at Delta down her snout. There was a whole page of coffee options available, after all.

“Uh… black?” Delta rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to bother with all this frappe, latte, cappuccino bullshit. In fact, she was about two seconds from throwing the menu in this brat’s face and walking out of this-

“Sorry I’m late.” Out of nowhere, Jet slid into the seat across from Delta.

“M-mr. Jet Stream!” The server’s eyes were bugging out. “I didn’t realize tha-”

“We’ll get the Zebrican blend coffee, just bring out a whole pot and a couple of mugs… maybe a plate of scrambled eggs… some bacon… a little whole-wheat hay toast…” Jet looked over at Delta, “Sound OK? You want anything?”

Delta was seething. This meeting was not off to a good start. As per usual this asshole had slid in with his stupid smile and everyone was falling all over themselves because he was a big shot, and then he has the gall to order for her, like she was one of his kept whores? She ought t-

Wait… bacon?

“You’re eating bacon?” Delta asked, an insatiable curiosity momentarily overtaking her anger.

Jet looked ashamed, glancing from left to right to see if anyone else in the cafe had heard. Las Pegasus was a multi-racial city, and this particular restaurant catered to griffons and kirin, so their offering was wide but… it was still very much taboo for a pony to be a meat eater. He waved away the server, sending her to fulfill his order. He then turned to Delta with a guilty expression and pinned back ears.

“Not so loud Delta…” Jet sighed, his ears flattening back, the wind taken out of his sails. “I tried meat when we were doing some work with the Griffonstone government last year, and I… uh… got a taste for it…”

Delta couldn’t really sit on a high horse compared to some of things she’d put into her system but having something to lord over Jet was making this moment more bearable. “Celestia’s flank, I never would have figured you for a murdering carnivore.”

“Look, I’m not proud of it, OK? They only source from pigs that would be passing away any-”

“Spare me, you butcher…” She enjoyed the look of absolute shame she was eliciting from her ex, holding him with an intense stare… before rolling her eyes.

“I don’t really care, Jet.” Delta grunted. “There’s a pig farm a mile and a half from my junkyard… personally I think Equestria could do with a few less of those stinky motherbuckers.”

Jet let out a breath, shaking his head as if he were trying to physically shed the sensation of unease. He steadied himself after his reset. “So… how are you doing?”

Delta just stared down her snout with a deadpan expression. “Seriously? Small talk?”

Jet tapped his hoof on the table cloth with annoyance. “Yeah… it’s how normal ponies avoid awkward silences and tearing each other’s heads off.”

“Yeah, well… we’re not normal ponies, are we?”

Jet leaned back. “No, I guess not. So… no small talk then…” Jet waved his hoof openly to Delta, yielding the floor to her.

Delta leaned forward across the table, her eyes darkening with annoyance. “Oh, don’t be a smartass you fu-” Delta paused, her nostrils flaring slightly as she caught a whiff of the stallion musk drifting across the table to her. Unwanted memories rushed back at her of a past age, one long buried beneath a mountain of hatred and pain…. the smell of her dorm room after a winter weekend spent in with her boyfriend…. the thick odor left in her small dorm-bed’s sheets when she didn’t bother to wash them after a late night study session with Jet… the musk of the juice under his flare just before she slid it into her mouth, halfway through an all-night rutting session.

Delta’s face darkened as she withdrew, sitting upright in her seat. She didn’t want to remember those happy times, those emotions… that pleasure... not with him. She shifted uncomfortably on her chair, a dull ache beginning down below, unwanted… as she tried and failed to prevent images from the previous night from flashing through her head.

‘Bury it, Delta. Bury it with rage.’ Delta growled internally.

“You didn’t fucking shower?” Delta thumped her hoof on the table.

“I was running late! What’s the big deal?”

“You were late anyway! Is it so hard to pull your fucking dick out of those two sluts and give yourself five fucking minutes to shower up so I don’t need to smell your damn funk!?” Delta snarled.

Jet clicked his tongue and shook his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cuz you’re so hygienic right now compared to me, right? Never mind the fact that your tail suddenly has white streaks in it, and your mane is stuck together in two places.”

Delta quickly felt her hair quickly, running her hooves through her messy bangs. “No, it isn’t.”

“Only because that limp-dicked loser produced about as much as a field-mouse. But you checked which means you didn’t fuckin’ shower either.” Jet smirked.

“Don’t be jealous just because that ‘field-mouse’ has a longer dick than you...” Delta smiled and turned up her hoof as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh bull-shit.” Jet shook his head. “You sent me the video, Delta… his little twig isn’t even half as thick as me… and he’s NOT as long… You’re just trying to get under my fur.” Jet snarled slightly. “Yeah, he was a real great catch there, Delta… tell me do you often pick up stallions in bathrooms?”

“At least I can pick up a date! I don’t need to pay for the privilege of some slutty escorts to even consider getting in my bed…”

“Hey! Hoofya and Bitstasia are wonderful young mares-” Jet began.

“You mean Stalliongradian whores?” Delta interjected.

Jet ignored her, continuing through gritted teeth. “... and those wonderful young mares didn’t receive a single bit from me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d say they received one particular bit from you. Over and over. I mean, Celestia’s teats Jet, they’re practically the same age as your daughter, Apogee!”

Jet suddenly coughed, nearly choking on the water he had been sipping. His eyes bulged out, quickly scanning Delta’s face then looking away, as he thumped his chest to catch his breath.

Delta fixed him with a curious eye. “What? It’s true! She’s getting to be that age too.”

“...our daughter…” Jet whispered, having regained his composure.

“What was that?”

“You said ‘your daughter’ earlier. She’s our daughter, Delta. You’d break her heart if she heard you say that. Not that you’d care.” Jet shook his head.

“Don’t you get all fuckin’ high and mighty about caring.” Delta snarled, her ears flattened back by Jet’s rebuke. She knew saying something like that would hurt the kid’s feelings… but it wasn’t like she was aiming that at Apogee! It was meant for Jet… Apogee was just… collateral damage.

Mentioning their daughter seemed to have a calming effect on the two angry ponies. Up to that point their conversation had been steadily escalating to a full-blown shouting match, each of them edging forward and sitting up in their chairs, eager to trade verbal blows. Two heavyweight boxers with no regard for defense, slugging it out without concern for the damage being done…

Thinking of the cheery smile of the yellow-furred, optimistic and goofy filly that shared their blood put a hiccup in their growing anger. Especially considering just how devastated she would be to see her parents fighting… again.

Delta swallowed a snark she wanted to make, instead pointedly looking outside the window of the cafe. Jet did the same - focusing intently on the ice-cubes in his water. Both of them were holding back, two giant reservoirs of painful memories and hurts that could never be drained.

Finally, Delta harrumphed and slunk back into her chair, crossing her arms. “Why the hell did you invite me here, anyway?”

Jet sighed and shrugged, resigning himself to the situation. “Why did you come?”

“Same reason you did.”

Jet shook his head softly and chuckled at himself. “I have no fucking idea why I came.”

“Like I said… same reason.” Delta sighed, a small smirk forming on her lips. “Tell me something, that first picture I sent two days ago, it really got under your feathers, didn’t it?”

Jet tapped his hooves on the table, unsure where Delta was going with this. "What if it did?"

Delta leaned back with a smug grin. “Knew it. Of course you couldn’t get enough of me.”

Jet massaged his head with frustration. “Yeah, right.” He groaned, then decided to lay his cards on the table. His voice became somber and serious as he confessed himself to her. “If I’m being honest Vee… when I saw that photo, those videos… thinking about you kept me up at night.”

Delta stiffened in her seat, that anxious feeling of fear that she’d managed to bury during their argument bubbling in her gut again. She didn’t want this. These things were better left unsaid. These stones were better left unturned. “What do you-”

“I can’t believe I’m telling you of all ponies,” Jet groaned, toying with his glass of water. “But… when I saw those pictures… that video… of you... it made me feel like…well…” He tapped his hooves together, searching for the right words. “I felt all bucked up… you know? Jealous and turned on... and pissed and… fuck if I know.” He looked across the table at Delta, expecting to see a self-important, vindictive snarl.

In the past, he’d tried to get Delta back by pleading with her that he still loved her… hoping to make his feelings for her clear, hoping that she would understand and try to work through their issues. But every time he tried, she grew more furious. After twelve years of disappointment, he stopped trying altogether. Then, as time passed, his feelings withered away, replaced by a cold detachment, protecting him from her fury.

And the fury was there, buried under the surface, ready to explode from her chest. But Delta suppressed it; she wouldn't give Jet the satisfaction of seeing her do what he expected of her.

He was always like this.

He made everything about him: his feelings, his affection, his needs and desires. He'd go on like this for hours, drowning her with his wants and needs, never once stopping to think about her. About her desires. Her dreams!

The poison in her heart rose up into her throat, demanding release. It festered and boiled, threatening to eat her from within if she didn't give it voice.

But she bit her tongue in spite of it, swallowing it down: she’d also felt what he was describing. It was the first time she'd experienced a connection to the stallion, however small it was. She hated to admit it, but it gave her pause.

Jet was surprised, almost stunned, to not hear the inevitable interruption he was expecting, Jet went on. “I mean… I'm not saying I was thinking about getting back together.”

Get back together? Ridiculous. Delta clicked her tongue and snorted at the thought, letting a small trickle of her venom leak through.

“...but at the very least... I think some part of me wanted more than just photos. And that desire is screwing me up inside. I thought I was over you, Vee.” Jet searched his ex's eyes, looking for something there he couldn't explain.. “I have to settle this. I need to understand what these feelings are all about, or I'm going to go fucking crazy.”

Delta also wondered if she was going crazy. She must be, considering she was even barely entertaining her ex's mewling tirade. But she couldn't turn away. Deep inside, beneath a bubbling mix of her own chaotic emotions, she felt... almost instinctively... that she understood him. Those strange, unanswerable desires that had tortured her the night before, which were undermining the resentment, the disgust, the hurt... which had been the foundation of her existence for so many years. That terrifying doubt that it could be changing… she had to settle things!

Delta opened her mouth to give her protest, but a bright, chirping voice cut her off.

“Here we go, Mr. Stream!” the maitre'd beamed, interjecting the serious conversation with a flourish of activity as three waiters scurried about their table, arranging various cups and plates. “Uh… b-baco… meat and eggs, and our finest coffee. The kitchen also insisted that we provide you with a plate of fresh fruits and pastries, compliments of the chef!”

Delta wrinkled her nose at the omnivorous selection. "Compliments of the underpaid illegal immigrants swarming the kitchen, am I fucking right?" Same old shit, as always: Jet had everyone wrapped around his hoof.

When Delta thought it couldn't get more sickening, one of the waiters stumbled over herself to pour her coffee and adjust her napkin while spouting pathetic lip service. Where was all this top tier service earlier, before Jet 'graced' everypony with his magnanimous presence?

“Can you just stop," Delta growled, "I can pour my own damn coffee.” Delta snarled over her shoulder at the young server who wasn’t even giving her the time of day, now doing her best to perfectly prepare the table setting and pour a mug of coffee for her.

"Ah, how many creams for you, Miss Stream?" the maitre d' asked, eagerly thrusting a silver pitcher in her face..

“None, and-”

"Ah!" he cut in, "And how about sugars miss-"

A thunderous clamour echoed throughout the cafe as Delta slammed her hooves against the table. Everypony's ears pinned back, winces passing all around.

"Enough!" she shouted, "Everypony just back the buck off! We were trying to have a damn conversation here!"

A pall fell over the restaurant.

The maitre’d was pale as ice, chilled by Delta's outburst. He looked over at Jet as if hoping for support.

The bemused stallion was already chewing on a piece of bacon. He offered a conciliatory frown for the server, shrugged, and said, “You did interrupt us, sir… so… if you don’t mind.” He gestured with his eyes toward the kitchen. For their own good, he hoped they would get the message.

Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the group of servers retreated, leaving their manager bowing and bumbling out apologies in their wake. “O-of course sir, of course. So sorry, so sorry!”

The disruptive entourage fled, leaving Jet and Delta alone with their forced silence. Jet quietly munched on his bacon, certain his ex would soon break their unspoken truce with another deluge of venom.

He didn't have to wait long.

“Bucking hell. How do you deal with those tailholes?” Delta grunted, picking up a fork and plunging it into the large platter of fruit, stabbing a slice of banana. Potassium was always good for hangovers.

“I don’t know, you seemed to handle things just fine," Jet said, casting a line.

Delta sneered and did not bite.

Jet's slumped into his seat, grabbed a spoon and shoveled a generous portion of eggs from the central platter. At least the food was good.

“So, where was I?” he asked, reluctantly returning to business.

Delta swallowed down her banana slice. “I believe you had just finished some bullshitty reasoning about how pictures of my plot made you as weepy as a filly at her cuteceneara.”

“I don’t quite remember putting it that way,” Jet said, quickly becoming resigned to his ex's verbal abuse, before pointing an egg covered fork back at her. "Maybe I deserve that. But I'm serious: it's been stuck in my head all day. Seeing those pictures of you messed me up."

Delta rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that was the point of sending them." She took a sip of her very black, creamless coffee. It had a rich, robust flavour... much better than the usual caffeinated swill she drank. Not wanting to betray her satisfaction for the coffee, she dug around in her mind for more venom to toss. “Tell me again: why the buck should I care?”

"I don't know," he said, angrily snatching another strip of bacon, shoving it in his muzzle and noisily chewing. "You tell me."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't send those damn pictures or reply with that video."

"And I didn't send pics of the whore twins."

“No, you just responded by letting it get under your skin immediately."

Delta looked away.

"Why did you even show up today?" Jet asked, swiping grease away from his lips. "What do you want?"

Delta set her mug down, dread wrapping its cold tendrils around her heart.. Normally she'd flip Jet the high hoof, tell him to eat her ass, then go find the nearest watering hole to crawl into and numb her doub-riddled mind. But not this time.

Doubt was nagging at her. Screaming to be resolved. She couldn’t just avoid it this time. She had to settle things for herself, to resolve her feelings. She wouldn’t retreat into her anger, not this time.

She twisted the mug in her hoof, hesitating.

"Just tell me," Jet implored. "What are you thinking?"

The mug shifted from one hoof to the other. She remained silent.

"You'll feel better if you get it out."

The mug commanded all her attention. She stared into it like it held all the answers to the universe.

"Please?"

The mug didn't hold any profound answers to Jet's question. Buck it.

“I'm feeling all fucked up too," she said with a weary sigh. Before Jet had a chance to respond, she summoned all her venom and fire, staring daggers across the table. "But let me be crystal… bucking... clear..."

"...I detest you."

"I know," Jet said, pushing eggs around on his plate with his fork. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You're bucking welcome. But to answer your question, it was upsetting."

Jet swiveled his ears toward Delta to be sure he'd heard her right. She continued.

"When I looked at those pictures of your… junk... I felt something."

"You felt what?"

Delta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't know. Something other than pure, visceral revulsion."

"Wow, nice," Jet said, rolling his eyes. "Very nice."

"Yeah, yeah," Delta groused. "It's not easy, okay dipshit? Coming here, talking to you about my bucking feelings. You! The last pony on Equus that I want to have these kinds of feelings about."

“Well, I guess we are in the same boat then," Jet said. "I feel the same way."

"...Fuck."

"It doesn't even make sense," Jet mumbled, "I have no idea why we'd get so twisted up by something this silly. It's not like we don't get plenty of attention from the opposite sex."

“Hells, not just the opposite sex… I get attention from both sexes… and you seem like one of those ‘closet’ colt-cuddlers.”

Jet coughed slightly, as Delta’s needling slipped under his guard. Regaining his composure he shot her a glare and parried with a joke: “If I’m a colt-cuddler it’s only because my bedroom experiences with you made me gay.”

Delta stifled a chuckle from behind her hoof, not wanting to seem too agreeable. But it was undeniable that some of the tension between them had lifted. Talking with Jet was proving to be more therapeutic than she'd have thought possible. Knowing he shared her anxiety helped her feel less strange. Less alone.

She pushed her chair back, and crossed her legs with a wry smile, feeling playful in the momentary absence of the weight of her stress. “Bullshit: even you have to admit back in our college days, the fucking was pretty damn good.”

Jet grinned, pausing a moment to reminisce over old memories, savoring them like a fine wine. “That they were. I always knew I was amazing, but you weren’t half bad yourself.”

"Oh fuck off," Delta said, unable to hide an amused smirk. “I was doing 90% of the work, and you would usually half-ass it. I may just be a lowly ex-engineer, but that tells me you’re only 5% of a good fuck.”

"Can't argue with your math," Jet said, "But that five percent was good enough for you five hundred percent of the time." He leaned forward and matched Delta's smirk with a sly smile. "If you know what I mean."

Delta's eye twitched while she searched for the subterfuge in his obnoxious, cocky statement. When she could find none, she cautiously asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jet sighed at his own terrible, obscure sense of humor. “I meant I would get you off, many times over.”

"Luna's slit, you're more awkward than an autistic foal, you know that?"

Jet wisely decided not to rise to her bait.

"But," Delta said, awkwardly drawing a small circle on the table with her hoof, "The sex was okay, I guess."

Jet's left eyebrow raised a millimeter, causing Delta to huff and gesticulate animatedly with her hooves. "Alright, it was damn good sex. When you weren't too lazy to fuck me, of course."

"Is it really all there was to our relationship?"

"What else was there?"

"I don't know, but there must be something more than wallowing in nostalgia about our lusty youth together?"

"I don't like to think about my past with you," Delta admitted, "But lately I’ve been thinking about the past. Thinking too much. About you. About… us." She shivered in spite of the callous shell she tried to erect, the memories of the good times which she forgot - or chose to ignore - tearing down the wall of bitterness she erected over the years.

"But that doesn't matter!" she snapped, desperately drawing forth more venom, a state of comfort and familiarity, "because I sure as hell don't give two shits about you in the present."

“Uh-huh, you’ve made that very clear," Jet said, slumping into his seat. But the two of them were ducking a more fundamental, underlying issue. There was more than simple nostalgia at work here, but both seemed willing to rely on it as an excuse. "So what should we do about these feelings we're having?"

“Fuck if I know.” Delta sighed, poking at the pile of bacon and taking a strip out and putting it onto her plate, poking it experimentally. “It’s not like now that we know we’re both ‘nostalgic’ it make all those shitty feelings go away.”

Jet watched Delta sniff at the piece of meat on her plate curiously. “You’re really feeling those urges too, huh? It’s weird… because of our history, that is. Like mixing oil and water… a pit of anxiety in your gut.” He looked over at Delta for confirmation, seeing her nod back at him while she held the strip of bacon up to the light with suspicion. “Like an itch you can’t quite scratch…”

Delta looked over at Jet, then back to the piece of bacon. A crazy idea was starting to form in her head. If it really was just lust… if it was really just physical desire… if she was truly convinced that was all it was...

She took a big bite, chewing with a thoughtful look then swallowing. “Huh.” She chomped on a second bite, finishing off the strip. “Well, we could always try something different.”

A flickering amber light hummed noisily against the backdrop of a violet desert sky. The swathe of light poured onto a nearly empty motel parking lot, a lone beat-up pickup truck the only sign that there was any occupancy at the run-down, two-story off-highway motel. The entire establishment was decades out of date, a product of the bygone era when the train station was the center of Las Pegasus. Since the advent of air travel and the establishment of the metropolitan downtown core, this small outpost had become increasingly disused. Only the odd industrial convention and the use of the location as a seedy getaway kept the establishment fiscally solvent. But the low-land value meant it only needed a hoofful of guests a week to get by.

And even now, a pair of two such seedy guests were making their way from the check-in office to their room.

“Really? Here?”

“What’s wrong with this motel?”

“Vee, I doubt I could find this motel advertised in the classified ads of a local community newspaper let alone the EquestriAero’s Luxury Travel Guide. It probably doesn’t even have a star rating!”

“Isn’t that your magazine? You can just pretend it has whatever star rating makes you feel good at night. If we went to one of your fancy-ass boutique hotels we’d be spotted for sure.”

“I mean, still… I can only imagine the roaches… the stains on the bedsheets.”

“Celestia, you’re such a foalish little filly. That’s just the price ya gotta pay if you want to contribute to those bedstains.” Delta hissed, prodding Jet in the shoulder. “Besides, you’re the one who insisted on making sure no one would know! I even put up with wearing this ridiculous coat.” Delta pulled at the tan trenchcoat while peering over the rims of her thick aviator glasses.

Jet nodded at her over his own facade. “Yes, the disguises are essential, you have no idea how insistent the paparazzi can be whe-”

“I don’t get it, is it really so embarrassing to be seen banging an older mare?” Delta growled, flicking the room key from her wing to her left hoof. “From what I see you don’t mind getting photographed being the little fuck-toy of every celebrity mare from here to-”

“It’s not that Vee.” Jet groaned. “What I’m worried about is what happens if pictures of me and you end up in some trashy tabloid - and Apogee gets a hold of them.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Delta sighed. It didn’t need to be said just how much even the possibility of her parents getting back together would affect the little filly. Like Jet, Apogee had learned a long time ago not to mention or hold out any hope for the possibility, but even though she’d grown out of those foalish filly questions about why her parents weren’t together, Delta wasn’t so blind that she couldn’t sense the intense hope from her daughter, bubbling under the surface.

Jet scratched his mane at the awkward pause. He knew that there was no reason to confirm that this was just a one-night stand, and that the precautions they were taking to protect Apogee were necessary. Bringing it up would only lead to hurt and anger. Even thinking about it was painful.

Tonight was temporary.

“Well… I picked the motel. Please tell me that you brought the booze.” Delta grunted as they walked up the stairs to the second floor of the motel.

“Of course, though I’m not sure if you need it.” Jet chuckled. “I can smell your breath from over here… off to an early start? I mean, Luna’s tailhole Vee, did you go right from the cafe to the bar after we agreed to meet later?” He grinned at himself. “I thought this was about hate-sex, not drunk-sex.”

“Hah!” Delta laughed. “You’re adorable! I have a warm-up pint and you think that I’m drunk.” She patted Jet on the back patronizingly. “I suppose a light-weight like you would think that way. Especially after you got your liquid courage up with a…” She sniffed the air around Jet’s chin. “Is that a cosmopolitan ? Crap, I never realised that you were actually a closet colt-cuddler, you sure you don’t want me to go home and get my strap-on?”

Jet laughed despite himself. “Fuck you. I like sugary drinks before flying with these.” He extended his right wing briefly. “Gives you some energy to burn. Still, if you’re such a goddamn alcohol savant, why didn’t you get the booze and I book the hotel?”

“Because...” Delta replied, as they approached their door. Room 12. A small pop from a car passing on the nearby highway made both of them jump and look out toward the highway.

“Has anyone seen us?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. Our room is right here.”

PIC OCCURS HERE (Remove Space): derpi booru.org/1868301

Delta walked up to the door and unlocked the flimsy deadbolt, pushing the door open and ducking into the interior. The musty smell of the rather drab room struck her nostrils immediately. It was fairly typical of places like this that had no central air-conditioning. The room would sit for days baking in the intense Las Pegasus heat, giving the air a stale, sticky atmosphere.

“You never answered me before... ” Jet asked motioning with his hoof as he prompted Delta to continue with her previous exposition, “...because…” He paused, waiting for her response with a curious arched eyebrow as he inspected the room.

A dated tube television sat on a cheap dresser. An industrial-style metal round-table for two sat near the window and was flanked by a pair of seats that even Delta would be embarrassed to use as lawn furniture for her junkyard. A dark, puke-green high-traffic carpet covered the room’s floor, only broken by the transition to cheap, faded, white linoleum tiles in a dreary bathroom that Jet did not want to inspect. Finally, a rather plain queen-sized bed was centered between two flimsy bedside tables, both of which sported cheap lamps which seemed to be missing light-bulbs.

“Oh? Oh, the booze.” Delta nodded, as she clicked on the in-window air-conditioning which rattled to life with a noisy and barely functioning compressor. “Well because I knew you’d end up springing for the expensive stuff.” Delta snagged the brown bag out of Jet’s hoof and slammed it down on the round table. “Let’s see what you…”

Delta’s jaw dropped open as she saw the liquor: a 60-year old bottle of Glenhooffich scotch whiskey.

Jet’s ears flattened as he saw Delta’s reaction. “Too much? I… I was hoping this might help smooth things out and I know scotch is your favorite.”

Delta’s eyes were wide and watery, like a foal’s on Hearthswarming Morning. “Th-this… this is like… a 1500-bit bottle of scotch!”

“Uh, yeah.” Jet rooted around in the room, finding a pair of plastic cups that were near the ice bucket and bringing them over.

“And it’s not shitty over-priced pretentious crap. This is a bucking masterpiece...” Delta was in awe. “Aaaaand…. We’re about to drink it out of plastic cups.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust as Jet unscrewed the cap and began to pour each of them a shot.

“Well Vee, tonight’s going to be all about taking the good where you can.” He finished pouring his shot and started filling Delta’s cup. “And trying to ignore the stuff that sucks.”

“It’s a nice gesture, I’ll admit.” Delta grinned, before plucking the bottle and doubling the amount of scotch in her cup. “But I think I’ll need extra good tonight to put up with the suck.”

Jet grinned, touching his cup with Delta’s. “Guess I’ll have to do my best to be extra good tonight then.”

Delta groaned. She had stepped right into that one. “Well. Don’t expect any suck from me.”

Jet almost choked on his shot.

Delta grinned, she loved having the last laugh. She downed her scotch in one toss of her head and began to pour both of them another round.

“Let’s get nice and bucked up.”

“...and that’s why *hic* SpaceZed’s suicide burning boosters are *hic* PR-bullshit” Jet grunted thumping his hoof on the table before kicking back in his chair with a self-satisfied expression.

“Hah!” Delta shook her head, “you’re just pissed that he’s getting all the spotlight now . He’s made spaceflight sexy. Unlike EquestriAero’s ancient stack.” Delta could see the effect of her words on the inebriated pegasus sitting across from her. Jet was no lightweight but, compared to Delta’s ability to hold her booze, pissing off the surly stallion was as easy as shooting seaponies in a barrel.

“Gimme a fuckin’ *hic* break…” Jet frowned, “since when has spaceflight been boring!? Gimme one of those…” Jet snatched a cigarette from Delta’s pack, sitting in the middle of the table, clenching it between his gritted teeth before sliding the lighter out from its spot in the pack and flicking it alight, drawing deeply against the Marelbro smoke.

Delta snatched back her cigarettes with a pissed off glance. She hated sharing and Jet had just helped himself to her precious smokes, as per usual, with nary a word.

“Besides,” Jet either didn’t notice, or didn’t care about Delta’s reaction, “just what the hell is wrong with our rocket *hic* stack? Nopony else can put even *hic* half the mass to low-Equus orbit?”

“How about you’re still using the same mid-stage engine from 12 years ago. That’s practically ancient technology.” Delta tapped some of the ashes from her own cigarette into the cup that had been recently been repurposed to act as an ashtray - the pair had just polished off the last of the bottle of scotch. Delta was buzzed. Not nearly as drunk as Jet, but that was to be expected: she was somewhat of a veteran. She was starting to feel alright… her and Jet just sitting in a shitty room, shooting the shit while getting progressively more wasted - it was just like old times...

She could see things eventually leading to some tired but simple drunk sex, followed by sleep… at least that’s what they would have done in the old times.

...old times.

‘Fuck that.’ Delta thought. Despite her underlying physical desire, she didn’t want sappy drunken sex. She didn’t want to give those buried feelings even the slightest chance and becoming something. She was here to confirm that those fears in her gut were nothing more than that. That her treacherous body just wanted an old experience. To do that all she needed was a FUCK.

And a hate fuck would work just fine.

Delta smirked internally as she considered her trap.

“Older doesn’t mean worse,” Jet complained, “besides if there’s anything wrong with the design it’s basically your fault.” Jet pointed at her. “That mid-stage booster engine was your design.”

Delta’s eyebrow twitched. “You don’t need to remind me of that, you asshole.” Delta’s nose crinkled as she took a deep draw from her cigarette and considered her next thoughts. “Did you think I would forget that you stole my engine designs to build your company?”

Jet coughed and laughed. “Oh give *hic* me a fuckin’ break. You didn’t design, engineer, fund, and build my early engines. I did.” Jet blew smoke out of his flaring nostrils. “You wrote a *hic* college paper about the theory of a closed cycle rocket engine: my engineers made it a reality.”

“And yet you are happy to blame me if it doesn’t work well.”

“I was joking: then you went and made everything so fuckin’ serious.” Jet slammed the last of the scotch in his cup and flicked it provocatively across the table. “You always make everything about you, make everything so damn complicated.”

“Fuck you Jet.” Delta snarled. “It’s easy to be all high and mighty when everything is about you. You’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, even when you didn’t deserve it.” Delta stubbed out her cigarette. “Especially when you didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t *hic* get everything I wanted.” Jet sighed, wistfully looking beyond Vee.

“Boo fucking hoo.” Delta leaned forward. “Are you sad that I didn’t roll over and ask you to marry me after you ruined my fucking life?” Delta slammed her hoof down, making the metallic table rattle and jump. “What the fuck am I even doing here!? I must have been a bucking idiot… I should leave.”

Jet’s eyes went fiery and he leaned forward as well, bringing the distance between the two under a foreleg. “I didn’t ruin your life… I… we... MADE a life Delta. And you ran away... just like you’re gonna run away now.”

Delta stood up with a start, shoving her chair back. “What the fuck did you say? I didn’t run away from anything. I was drowning Jet. I was trying to live!” She shook the table again. “Something you don’t know SHIT about. YOU... “ Delta jabbed a hoof forward that glanced off of Jet’s muzzle, “...got every damn thing you ever wanted handed to you on a fucking PLATTER.” She sneered. “You never had to try for anything… and the first time you DID try to get something you wanted - you fucked it up so bad that I STILL fucking hate you. How does THAT feel, asshole?”

Jet stood up as well too, sending the cheap furniture clattering backward. “You don’t know what the FUCK you’re talking about. Everyday I try. I try so hard that I’m falling apart. But unlike you I don’t just give up and drown myself in booze. My company, my employees… OUR daughter need me.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Delta snarled. “You can lie to yourself all you want about how much you try. Doesn’t change reality: you get everything you wan-”

“I DON’T have everything I want.”

Delta snorted with a haughty laugh, slapping her own ass as her tail flicked. “That’s right isn’t it? You’ll never get what you want, because you’re not any better than me, Jet: you’re just too conceited to realize you don’t actually put yourself out there.”

“What the fuck are you saying!?”

Delta snarled back, “I’m saying stop pretending like you’re so fucking saintly and prove to me you’ve got some fucking balls.” She shoved Jet roughly, “try talking down to me when YOU try for something and lose it all because of someone else!”

Jet threw the table away, sending it clattering with a tumble up against the bathroom door frame with a loud bang. It revealed Jet’s staggering form, and his bobbing half-erection.

“You want me to just step and take what I want, huh!?”

“I want you try!” Delta spat. “Unless you’re too much of a pussy you goddam whiskey dick!”

“Arrrgh!” Jet stumbled forward, putting a hoof on Delta’s shoulder and pressing her over to the bed. Delta felt the edge of the mattress catch under her thighs, making her tumble backward onto the centre of the bedspread. She felt Jet’s weight crush down on top of her, heavy and uncoordinated, like a landslide.

“Is this what you fucking want!?” Jet snarled, his head above hers.

Delta spread her legs under Jet, dimly feeling the wet stickiness of the moisture between the folds of her nethers as they were exposed to the warm motel room air.

“And since when did you give a buck about what I wanted.” Delta snarled, roughly rubbing her left leg against the inner thigh of Jet, making it clear what her true intentions were.

It was then that she felt it.

That thing that had started all of this in the first place. A hot bulge of wetness resting heavily on her belly. She could feel its weight growing against her, could feel a sensation of wetness as Jet’s penis grew more and more erect.

Jet pushed himself off of Delta, pressing his hooves against the overly firm mattress of the dingy bed to raise his chest off of his pinned ex and look down on her with a half-intoxicated, half-seething face. He could see her spread legs, blue tail whipping wildly… the hint of dark blue, aroused marehood behind the obscuring cylinder of his fat stallionhood… and her vicious snarling face, looking down at his erection, her eyes burning with fire.

He leaned in to steal a kiss from her, almost as a perfunctory act. Something needed before indulging in more carnal activity. He didn’t feel much affection for the bundle of fury under him at the moment. But he couldn’t just… fuck her.

Delta saw Jet’s head movement, recognizing immediately that he was looking for a kiss. She turned her head away with a sneer, stopping him cold. Fixing her eyes on him without turning her head back, she mocked him. “Don’t kiss me you little bucking bitch.”

‘She wants me to make it rough?’ Jet’s groggy mind raced, furious that Delta was forcing him to act like this… causing him to once again lose his temper… and furious with himself for so easily giving into that same temptation to take the oh-so-satisfying revenge available to him. ‘Fine! I’ll be ROUGH’

Delta looked down, returning her attention to the large, dark mass of flesh being dragged down her body by Jet. It left a wet trail of the stallion’s burbling pre-cum, starting just below her damn belly-button. Her nostrils were filled with his thick musk, Jet’s ardor easily swamping the lingering aroma of stale air and cigarette smoke. She could taste that salty sweetness on the tip of her tongue, could sense her body’s reaction as she began to drool in her mouth… and her nethers.

The dark shaft slid through the crevice of her teats, sending her areolas twisting outwards and against the sides of her inner thigh. Her breasts were larger than they had been the last time this particular cock had been in contact with them, a little saggier too, but time changes all things, and not always for the better.

She watched the thick flare, with its sputtering cockslit. Celestia, she’d forgotten just how slick Jet could get. It was almost like he was pissing pre-cum. The clear liquid trickled out and over the throbbingly erect stallionhood, now bulging with the force of Jet’s full arousal. She bit her lip with anticipation. It had been a long time since she’d experienced this kind of cock. As Jet shifted and fumbled with his awkwardly large endowment, she caught sight of his large egg-shaped balls hanging below, proudly nestled in a fat purse of slick dark skin. This was a stud.

This was the feel she wanted. What she could handle. The thoughts she knew she could rationalize. If her focus, her feelings, her lust was just that… some nostalgic desire for what amounted to little more than throbbing meat… well, that wasn’t catastrophic: it was just horniness.

No, what she had to keep buried, to reject… to deny… was anything about who that meat was connected to.

Delta’s gaze flicked up, taking in the form of her former lover, and current enemy. His face was screwed up in earnest effort, struggling against the haze of alcohol that was close to overwhelming him, as he delicately tried to balance on one hoof while using the other to guide his cock lower, his addled and inebriated mind struggling to understand just how his hips should be positioned.

Delta felt a thump in her chest. Her heart skipped a beat.

She hadn’t physically been this close to Jet in years. All those features that she remembered from those times so long ago.. The little creases and furrows in his forehead as he grimaced, the way his nose looked from underneath… how his jaw set forward and thrust his chin outwards… it was all the same. Well… except for some new wrinkles, and he’d lost the goatee.

Since then she’d always kept him away. Kept others away. She never wanted to let another pony get close to her again. And especially not him. They’d been so close back then. So full of hope. Each supporting the other. Like the final two pieces of a puzzle fitting together. He’d always cut right through her prickly exterior, always know just when to embrace her.

A thought flashed through her head… unbidden, unwanted:

‘I wish he’d hug me.’

Delta’s eyes flashed wide with alarm. ‘What the FUCK was that!?’ She angrily thought to herself, setting her jaw forward again. She felt the rush of fear and anxiety that followed the shocking idea, and immediately tried to chase it out with images of lusty rutting, of his cock, of being fucked. Anything to de-personify the stallion over her. This was supposed to be about SEX dammit!

“What the FUCK is taking you so long?” Delta snarled, reaching down with frustration. She gripped Jet’s cock with her forehoof with the intention of helping things align and getting the ball rolling a little faster. Something she’d done so many times before with so many stallions and colts.

He was hot.

She felt his pulse through the thick shaft of flesh, which she could not even wrap her hoof around.

He was alive.

It struck Delta that she was touching Jet. Really touching him. Not just his dick, but him. The Jet from all those years ago. Under the facade of his grown-up CEO exterior. The dorky college student who’d dreamed with her about a future filled with planes and rockets.

“Fuggoff... “ Jet slapped away her hoof and renewed his efforts quickly positioning his fat tip against Delta’s winking, drooling cunt. “You wanted fuckin’ rough…”

Delta chuckled to herself. He was also the pony who’d stolen all her dreams. Who’d crushed her soul. Who’d ripped out her heart and then had the gall to say it was her fault. How could she harbor any feelings for him?

“I was just worried you’d forgotten what a pussy looked like you fuckin’ colt cuddl-UHnnnnn!” Delta snarled, her venom interrupted by Jet driving his head into her with ferocity.

“THAT shut you up.” Jet grunted, bringing both hooves back to the bed to steady himself, letting him bring his hips back into play. “I just couldn’t find your loose cunt under all those layers of flab.”

Delta grimaced, wanting to shoot back some insult about Jet’s scrawny arms, but she couldn’t. The truth was, while she had put on a little weight (though more of a light chubbiness, not flab)... she most certainly didn’t have a loose cunt. And she was feeling that now.

The wind was knocked out from her. The huge bulbous cockhead felt like somepony had squeezed a buckball up her marehood. Her poor outer lips strained and stretched to accommodate Jet’s girth, the awaited sting of his sudden and forceful entry only tempered by their sexes’ copious lubrication.

She panted slightly, consciously taking back control of her body’s control of her pelvic floor, releasing a deep breath and relaxing her tight muscles, unwinding like a cat uncoiling from a predatory pouncing crouch.

‘Celestia, he’s big. STILL big.’ Delta grimaced.

Just as she began to regain control of her discomfort, Jet’s forehooves braced themselves against the top her shoulders and he began to thrust Her hooves clenched at the bed sheets as the invading flesh rearranged her insides, opening her clenching tunnel with vigorous ardor, parting her rippling velvet muscles with an insistent forward drive.

“B-buck!” Jet grunted. This wasn’t going easy for him either. There’d been a moment when he’d been hovering over the smaller blue pegasus, when her attention had been drawn to his stallionhood with a rather fetchingly cute gaze, that he’d wanted to embrace her with fondness. This mare was the mother of his child, the spark that had lit a fire under him so many years earlier, somepony who had been so much more than a trophy fling or a notch on his bedpost.

When she’d turned away from his kiss, it had cut him more deeply than he could bear. He was trying to hide it under a veneer of rage and anger, of rough ferocity… but he felt betrayed, broken, stupid… a fool for having opened himself up to be so easily hurt. If she wanted this to be just a physical act, that was fine by him. He could pretend that was all he wanted… for a little while.

At least he’d get his rocks off.

He pushed forward brutally, letting the weight of his body and the leverage against her sweaty shoulders impale himself deeper into her twisting cunt. Jet’d had the pleasure of bedding a selection of the most exquisite mares since rising through the strata of Equestrian society... and there was no logical, scientific possibility that a mistress from Ember’s escort agency to be bested in any technique, thrill or sensation by anypony outside of a demi-goddess.

And yet… they were.

Jet clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, unconsciously trying to strain against the overwhelming sensations wrapping around his cock as he sank inch after inch into Delta. Her strong muscles clenched at him, resisting him to provide the utmost in friction, while coaxing him still deeper into her honeytrap. Her burning heat seemed to melt him, her magma-hot juices spilling all over his balls and inner thighs. Her shuddering grunts, each coming in time with an ecstatic wink of her pussy, excited him like his first buck back in high school.

He wanted to slow down, perhaps start slowly pumping and playing with the cacophony of sensation both of them were experiencing… but that would risk opening himself up again to being mocked, hurt, humiliated. So, he bucked.

Delta felt the massive member piercing her deeper and deeper. She’d had large stallions since Jet, longer or wider or some other freakish combination… but something was different. He was truly filling her. Just as she feared that her pussy couldn’t possibly permit any more of his massive cock to enter, she felt a huge increase in width reach her pink inner lips.

His medial ring.

Involuntarily she clenched with trepidation. She’d forgotten what this feeling was like. The exhilaration of riding the edge of what she was capable of, the strange mixture of excitement and terror that quickened her pulse and sent adrenaline racing through her body, fireworks of alertness racing out along every branch of her nervous system.

As she clamped down, her tight vagina molded all around Jet’s stallionhood, flesh shaped flesh with painful ferocity. She heard Jet’s automatic hiss of pained pleasure as he reacted to her convulsion, before he drove the medial ring with renewed strength, finally popping it into her body like forcing a golf-ball into a garden hose.

“Ooof! B-big!” The exhortation slipped from Delta’s lips, pissing her off. It felt like a concession, the first defeat of the evening. She could only hope that Jet wouldn-

“Heh,” She looked up to see Jet’s chuckling face leering down at her, “too much for the little filly?” Jet put his hooves on Delta’s upper arms and pinned her down, pulling back roughly with his hips, drawing part of his 13.5-inch penis out of her with a naughty squelching squirt. “Just shut your eyes and let daddy Jet take care of you…”

Delta was about to snap back her own vicious retort when Jet’s flare reached the end of her pussy, and, just before sliding out of her… her reversed direction and thrust his fat cock back into her, sliding all the way back to his medial ring before starting to piston back out. As he changed direction, she felt the heavy, wet slap of his large balls slap against her tailhole with an audible *PLAP*.

As Jet found his rhythm, hips moving at a steady in and out beat perfectly synchronized with the pull of his arms the slapping sound filled the motel room.

*PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP*

Delta squirmed under the attention. Her lips drinking in every contour and vein of the stud rutting her like a jackhammer. Her already engorged marelips and clitoris fattened with her mounting arousal, as they thickened like sponges absorbing her pleasure-juices. She could feel the dancing sparks of pleasure building in her belly, tinders that would start a wildfire of an orgasm. If she let it.

But this was her element.

Jet might have a great cock. He might even have decent at laying his pipe… but she was world class.

Delta pivoted her hips, kicking her rear hooves off of the bed and up into the air, which let her hip bones fall even more open, giving her more control over the well-practiced muscles in her lower body. She grinned with confidence, absorbing each of her stallion’s thrusts with precisely timed gyrations of her hips, turning the thrusting, slapping energy into a wiggling grind that forced Jet to squint in concentration and made the bed groan with a squeaking protest.

*PLAP* *creak* *PLAP* *creak* *PLAP* *creak*

She wasn’t even getting started.

She concentrated on her powerful pussy, a potent mix of roiling muscles and velvet soft slickness that had been the ruin of many a confident young colt. She massaged the thrusting dick as it slid in and out of her, milking it like a skilled farm-maid might work an udder, curling and twisting around the entirety of the long, thick shaft Jet would slide into her. Clenching just as he would reach his medial ring and reverse course, forcing him to strain to withdraw, the suction of her airtight cunt pulling at his cock. Then, just as he would reach the far end of his pump and begin to drive forward once more, she would push out, making him strain against her superior pelvic floor muscles, the outward strain also sending squirts of her overflowing nectar splashing against the top of his dark cockflesh and soak the fur of his lower belly, before dripping off him to the sheets below.

*PLAP* *creak* *drip**PLAP* *creak* *drip* *PLAP* *creak* *drip*

Jet’s eyes were fully closed now. His lips were quivering. His forehooves, barely applying any pressure to Delta’s shoulders slid down to the bedspread under her armpits, absentmindedly clenching at the sheets and then relaxing. His back arched slightly and he trembled. She felt his heavy ball sack impacting slightly higher up on her body, slapping more against her taint rather than her tight ponut. He was getting close. She saw him bite his lip, hard, as he resisted the powerful urge to unload into her.

‘Not bad. Mmph. Pretty fuckin’ good actually.’ Delta grimaced, smiling. The older stallion was doing well to resist and not change his pace. She could only think of one or two other lays who would be able to pull off such a feat. Most colts would have already popped or would have had to stop and pull out by now. Her techniques were taking their toll on her as well, of course. Those tinders in her belly had definitely passed the bonfire stage. A burning tension of repressed sexual energy building in her body… potential energy like a coiled elastic band that would either need to be relaxed… or it would SNAP.

But she knew her limits.. and could sense Jet’s. She was in full control. It was actually kind of fun. It wasn’t often that she got to win against him. She let a smile grow on her face as she basked in the pleasure of good, hard sex. Maybe this really was all she’d wanted. A chance to go up against what would have once dominated her… and conquer it. A good, rough rut that would quench any silly fears and desires.

But she couldn’t let her impending victory pass without some snark at least.

“Hah!” She huffed with a smile, in between breaths. “The guys at the bar fuck me better than this.”

*PLAP* *creak* *drip**PLAP* *creak* *drip* *PLAP* *creak* *drip*

Jet couldn’t even pause to open his eyes. His wings were already starting to extend in pre-orgasmic torpor. “I… huff… bet they… huff… smell better than you, too.”

Delta chuckled, of course he’d go down fighting. ”Dick.” She whispered under her breath.

“Cunt.” His reply was automatic, natural… comfortable.

PIC GOES HERE: (remove space) https://derpi booru.org/1877329

She’d managed to find a comfortable groove. A happy medium. Sure, they were both pissed at each other. Furious even… but here, in this moment, that was just fine.

Those fears of unwanted emotion were slowly slinking back, melting into the background of her body’s building tension. Her body ached with pleasure as stallionflesh slammed in and out of her with increasing intensity, all coaxed and cajoled by her skilled body.

*PLAP* *creak* *drip**PLAP* *creak* *drip* *PLAP* *creak* *drip*

Her stud’s pre-orgasmic throes were far long, now. He was losing the ability to control his motions, slamming with long, powerful, jackhammering thrusts… as if he were trying to drive her through the mattress into the bed frame below.

*PLAP* *creak* *drip**PLAP* *creak* *drip* *PLAP* *creak* *drip*

She felt the fat, hot, thick head of his cock slam into her cervix with brutal ferocity, again and again. It was a sensation that other mares might shirk from, but Delta had grown to love the raw sensation, the complete fullness of the thumping finish to Jet’s thrusts. She flexed and clenched her tight cunt, bringing her cervix forward to plant eager, wet kisses on the end of Jet’s flare.

*PLAP* *creak* *drip**PLAP* *creak* *drip* *PLAP* *creak* *drip*

“F-fuck! D-delta… I’m….” Jet grunted, his nostrils flaring and huffing hot air down onto Delta’s triumphant face. She felt his body tense even more, his thick cock twitching and expanding within her, straining and squirming like a cornered beast. Jet’s hooves slipped, making his entire suspended body fall with a heavy thump against Delta’s heaving, sweaty ribcage. She felt the whole of Jet’s mass resting on her, the warmth of his gasping chest against hers, the sweat from his shoulders rolled off him and down her back, soaking the already drenched sheets beneath her.

Jet’s muzzle had slipped next to Delta’s face in his fall, leaving his panting mouth close to her left ear.

“Gods, Vee…” He whispered, his body already starting to buck uncontrollably, His shaking arms hooked under Delta’s body, pulling her into a hug, even as his thick cock began to flare inside her.“...I didn’t realise how much I missed you.” With a herculean thrust he drove forward one last time, hilting his massive stallionhood in Vee, penetrating the smaller mare’s cervix with his throbbing cockhead, just before it flared, expanding to monstrous size.

‘Me too.’

Delta’s facade crumbled.

She felt like she hadn’t been touched in decades and was now suddenly being embraced for the first time in distant memory. She craved the touch, the warmth… the closeness... it was like a tall glass of water after having wandered in the desert of resentment for so long.

The elastic band of tension, the smug veneer of control, the fear and anxiety at some unwanted true emotion sneaking out. It all snapped.

A roiling wave started deep in Delta’s belly, around her thrumming, quivering womb. It boiled out in a torrential cascade, spilling up her spine and into her brain. The cacophony of fears, doubts, excitement, anger, and pleasure was overwhelmed with a bright pink flush of pure orgasmic ecstasy. The ancient parts of her cortex dumped their potent load of neurochemical dopamine, flooding Delta with a hit of pleasure she hadn’t experienced since getting clean.

As the wave of orgasmic bliss cascaded back down her body, her lithe frame was wracked and responded purely on desire, no longer burdened by her desire to bury feelings, or nurse animosity. With a tortured groan her wings extended and reached out to wrap around her lover, pulling him in tightly against her breast, her forehooves digging into the delicate back muscles under his extended wingspan.

Her legs wrapped around Jet’s hips, locking around him and crossing over one another as they desperately drew him closer, trying to coax an impossible further penetration out of an already hilted cock. Her tail lashed wildly, entwined with Jet’s. Her hips pumped and gyrated with abandon, grinding her pubic bone against his.

Vee’s marehood winked out uncontrollably, spraying her marejuice in a cascading waterfall of splattering, clear lubricant. Her internal walls rippled in uncontrollable milking waves, slaves to the overpowering climax that was wracking her. Her cervix dilated and suckled, her entire feminine core coaxing the sputtering maleness inside her to pour every drop of his seed into her.

Her head lashed left and right, eyes shut vainly as a shield against the intensity of feeling she was wracked with.

“AHhhhhhhhhh!” She cried out, no longer in control, before desperately reaching forward to try to plan a kiss on Jet’s muzzle… but finding only his neck instead, and sinking her teeth into that with feral ferocity, her nip drawing blood.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Jet swore in reaction to the sharp pain, a bright contrast against the heady pleasure of his pumping release, as he unloaded thick spurt after spurt into Vee’s thirsty womb. Pump after pump of thick, throbbing cum squeezed up his swollen shaft, before erupting with massive, spurting strength into Vee’s body, stuffing her fuller and fuller with his seed.

Vee hung on for dear life, the tremendous feeling of fullness, of completeness, of satisfaction… still lost beneath a blissful wash of endorphins. Her teeth continued to dig into Jet’s neck, the warm crimson trickles sliding down her chin and staining the sheets under her neck.

Finally, her mind began to clear. The pure pleasure wafting away to reveal a euphoric sense of catharsis underneath. Her eyes opened, revealing two unfocused lazy pupils, struggling to assert themselves.

“F-fuck… I love… this…” Vee groaned out, unsure if she’d said or thought the forbidden phrase, but completely uncaring at this point.

She gave a contented mewl as she felt the last pump of semen splash into her, leaving only the rigid and twitching flare to plug her womb.

“I love… you..” She heard in her ears. She wasn’t sure who’d said it. But she thought it was Jet. At least, his body had gone completely limp right after she’d heard it, as he passed out on top of her.

She should have been completely miserable. Covered in ichor, sweat, fluids. Smothered by a heavy, hot stallion that she detested. Torn up and betrayed by her own body, revolting against her feelings, and shamefully defeated by nothing more complex than a pleasure high.

But here, in this sweaty, perfect moment.

She was content.

She snuggled into Jet’s chest, resting her head under his chin and letting herself be completely covered by him, connect to him, melded with him.

Her eyes dipped, blinked, shut briefly.

Then she fell asleep.

Author's Note

Comment, Like and Favorite if you're enjoying the fic!
It means a LOT to the author

I'd like to start off by thanking the artists, Big Mac 115 and Shinodage! They kicked this thing off.

Next a HUGE thank you to my editor xRei. If you ever feel that a portion of the story feels like it has a bit more quality, he's probably the one to thank! He constantly drives me to write better and adds fantastic edits himself.

Another thank you to my friend Star! He gave valuable prereading feedback throughout!

This was an extremely difficult story for me to write: any approach toward a Jet/Delta healing in Shino's canon has always been extremely difficult to consider, let alone write. Granted, this is only a small tryste, not an actual reconciliation... but even then I didn't want to approach without Shino's greenlight, so I was eager when he asked if I could write a clopfic about the comic exchange with BMac.

This is the result of over a month of writing, bit by bit, and lots and lots of tweaking and editing.

I know I try to write light hearted clop, but I hope this has hit a nice balance for you all between some good, fappable raunch... and a little story and plot (ok maybe a lot of PLOT, if you catch my drift)!

Did I pull it off? Let me know in the comments!