Fabulous Green Miniskirt

Scotch sat in front of the full-length mirror while Blitz slammed around in the bathroom getting the makeup things. He puffed out his chest, tossed his mane so his forelock covered one eye, and gave his best attempt at a smoldering gaze. Such passion. Such beauty. Scotch knew it was vain, and he would never admit it to anyone, even Blitz, but he loved to look at himself. He flicked his large fluffy ears and brushed his soft pink bangs out of his eyes. He tried different poses — dashing! Thoughtful! Elegant! Slutty! Oh, slutty was a good one. Scotch bit his lower lip. Was this beautiful creature really him? He didn’t feel that beautiful when he was out walking around.

“Enjoying the show?” said Blitz, flapping over clutching the makeup things to his chest.

Scotch squeaked and jumped in alarm, mantling his wings defensively. “Um… I wasn’t looking at myself. I swear. I’m sorry.”

Blitz landed next to Scotch and set the makeup things down on the floor. “It’s okay. You’re a pretty stallion, but I’m going to make you a pretty mare. Then we can fuck in front of the mirror if you want. Now close your eyes.”

Scotch shivered as Blitz caressed the eyeshadow brush over his eyelids. He fluttered them open and looked sideways so he could watch while Blitz did his lashes. “So you’re going to be my stallion?”

Blitz shrugged, and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Gender roles are stupid. I could put makeup on me, too, and we could both be mares.”

Scotch giggled. “I know you hate that girly stuff, don’t be silly.”

“Think ponies might think I’m bi?” said Blitz, pursing his lips to consider his work so far.

“Mmmm, they might guess it no matter what you’re wearing. Is that why you don’t like to call me your husband? Because you don’t want ponies to think you’re gay?”

“Everypony knows I’m bi, Scotch. I was being sarcastic.”

“But you married a stallion. That’s pretty gay, Blitz. That’s as gay as you can get, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Blitz scowled. “That doesn’t make me gay. I still like both.”

Scotch batted his eyelashes at Blitz. “I know that. But not everypony knows that. Are you okay with ponies assuming you’re gay?”

Blitz socked Scotch in the shoulder. “Hey, I’m the roughest, toughest little fifty-pound pegasus there is.”

“And you make sure everypony knows it,” said Scotch, reaching out to caress Blitz’s chest floof.

“Mouth closed, Butterslut. I wanna do your lipstick.”

Scotch made a moue with his lips and closed his eyes. The hard little shaft of the lipstick caressed his lips.

“Don’t you think it’s a little heavy?” said Scotch, eyeing himself in the mirror as Blitz capped the lipstick and put it away.

“I want you to look like the whore you are inside. I need to do your blush now. Easy way or hard way?”

Scotch’s cheeks flushed all on their own. “Hard way, please,” said Scotch. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Blitz smirked. “There’s no shame in asking for the rough treatment.” And he slapped Scotch across the right cheek so hard the noise set the dogs barking downstairs.

Scotch shuddered, already feeling the horseshoe-shaped welt rising on his left cheek. “Ow, ow, ow!” he moaned.

Blitz bit his lower lip. “You okay, buddy?”

Scotch looked up from under his bangs at Blitz. “Hubby. And I don’t mean to be rude? But if you’re going to go around giving little sissy slaps like that then everypony is gonna know you’re gay.”

Blitz’s lips rolled back from his teeth. “Why you little…” and he hauled off and backhoofed Scotch across the right cheek. The sharp pain of the slap and the dull pain of the impact with his facial bones echoed through Scotch’s body and made his cock pulse with desire.

“Oh, harmony,” he groaned. He felt tears trickle down his cheeks, making his mascara run. There was dampness on the upper lip, too.

“Oh, shit, I made your nose bleed!” Blitz took Scotch’s jaw in his hooves.

“Kiss me. Please,” moaned Scotch.

Blitz ran his tongue over Scotch’s painted lips, then drove it inside. Scotch tasted copper on his husband’s tongue. Their hooves caressed each other's bodies for a few moments, but Blitzie was an impatient pony. All it took was Scotch’s hoof brushing his dick once, and Blitz broke the kiss and kicked up into the air.

Blitzie’s favorite oral sex position was what he termed the ‘flying fuck’. Long soaring wings flapping, he could hover indefinitely with his dick hanging in front of Scotch’s face. Scotch couldn’t stay airborne for anything like so long — pegasus magic or not, he didn’t have the muscle tone for it. But Scotch knew his role, and he slid his hooves up the back of Blitzie’s thighs to his steel-hard little cupcake ass cheeks. Blitz hooked his hind legs over Scotch’s shoulders, grabbed him by the ears with his forehooves, and thrust his dick into Scotch’s mouth.

Blitz was not a gentle lover.

Scotch thought of him as having a ‘narrow’ cock because some of their other playmates, notably Dusk and Applejack (and also, of course, Scotch himself) were thicker than the average pony’s hoof, but the two of them had had enough erotic adventures with other couples for Scotch to know that he was average for a stallion. Now that thick flare trampled over Scotch’s tongue and drove straight for the back of his throat. Scotch loosened his jaw and made himself ready, tensing as the cock that had destroyed what little gag reflex he had ever had rammed into his face.

“Oh, you disgusting little slut. Your face cunt’s so tight!” Blitz slammed his hips forward, pounding inch after inch of smooth, pretty blue cock into Scotch’s mouth. His neck ached with the hammering impact, as did his battered cheeks. Did he have any of Punda’s healing potions left? He’d need to stock up soon; the last thing he needed was ponies asking him if he felt safe at home. He didn’t want them distracted from ponies whose partners were abusive all the time, and not just sometimes, for fun.

A yellow and blue blur in the corner of Scotch’s vision distracted him from his shopping list. The mirror! Of course! He rolled his eyes to one side. There he was, kneeling on his hocks, his husband draped over his face. Blitz’s cock pistoned in and out of his mouth, glistening with spit and something red — lipstick, blood, or both — going deeper every time.

“Eyes up here, slut,” said Blitz, tapping him on the right cheek. Mean Blitzie! Scotch kept looking.

Blitz grabbed Scotch by the mane with both hooves and jammed his medial ring past Scotch’s lips. He gave six more rapid thrusts until his balls rested on Scotch’s chin. Blitz held him there, shivering with pleasure, wiry thighs squeezing Scotch’s sore cheeks. Scotch decided it might be safe to take a peek at the mirror again.

He couldn’t get a good view of his mouth! Scotch’s thighs blocked the view! But he could see a lot of other things. Blitz’s eyes were closed, his mouth open, his head thrown back in erotic bliss. His lean body gyrated on top of Scotches face, ass and thigh muscles moving under his glossy blue coat. And Scotch himself? He was a mess. Mane limp and sweaty. Chest flecked with spit and tiny drops of blood. The only thing that would bake it hotter was some cum. And from the way Blitzie’s hips were shaking that was almost…

Between blinks, Blitz jumped off of Scotch and flew around in circles, huffing and red-faced. His long wet dick bobbed back and forth with the beat of his wings.

“What’s happening?” said Scotch, voice hoarse from throat fucking. He felt empty inside. He wanted his husband’s dick in him again.

“I wanna cum in your face! But if I cum in your face, I won’t be able to see that sweet little skirt I got you framing your gorgeous cheeks while I fuck you up the ass.”

Scotch struggled with this concept for a moment, but it was true. Blitz typically fell asleep for hours after sex, so they’d have one shot at this until, like, mid-afternoon. He rose to all fours, turned around, and flipped his tail up over his back. “Okay. Then fuck me up the ass. But can I please watch in the mirror? Pretty please?”