Author's Note

My name is Fireflower and this update is my way of let y'all know that I'm still yearning to write even after all those times spent uploading and updating; however, this is still a clopfic alone so unless you're in eighteen plus panel, please get off of this website now while you still can.

Anyways, I just want to state for the record to those who may have forgotten what I'd said earlier about My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic and its setting and characters belonging to Lauren Faust and Hasbro: aside from Smudge Proof and Silver Wing still being owned by Smudge Proof alone, Ashvale is based on Turanga Leela, hence her appearance; in addition, this chapter's layout is inspired by the ending(s) of Bronystories' Swingerville, deserving of a special shout–out from me and some thanks as well as that one scene from Revenge of the Nerds amalgamated with some South Park and Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects.

Enjoy it as you are, my dear friends 'cause this is only the final chapter: I can assure you that what shocked me is the fact that it'd took about an entire year for me to finish writing, editing, and uploading it to the site, especially since I'd plenty more to write about last year; I hope you can appreciate it and that we meet again soon enough, like before.

Original Olive Oils

To many in attendance, the wonders of the environment itself were still no different from before in their entirety so to speak of; the only exception was the very music, its melodic winds and wires with the occasional striking of keys were playing acutely: together, they were the epitome of both refinement and gentleness therein, a greater far cry from its prior percussive predecessor.

Notably, there happened to be at least two ponies whom were perhaps alike in fair dignity at first glance resting upon the concrete nearby the poolside, in the altogether like many of their peers. Each of them currently possessed certain common traits: light coating upon their bodies, purple eyes all reeking of libidinousness, and a deep crimson hue donned upon both of their very faces. Of course, there were some significant differences that perhaps one observer would’ve taken notice therein, aside from their heated sweating bodies displaying their own contrasting chests.

Speaking of the very twosome in question, it was easy to identify them both at once as of this moment in time despite the acute redness upon their visages. For starters, the pony currently residing on top was a pasty white mare whereas the other equine whom currently rested underneath was but a gilded unicorn. Secondment, the former was a redhead, wearing her elongated frizzy coiffure with strands out of place whereas the latter possessed only tidy turquoise tresses. Thirdly, the pasty white mare wore a pair of candy canes into the shape of a heart on the flanks whilst the gilded unicorn donned a shelled violet gastropod. Of the two, the redhead bore light fuchsia below her glasses focused on the long shaft whilst the grassy counterpart had dark indigo beads targeting the sheath.

It didn’t take long for him to stare at her dripping elaborate flowerbed above already planted towards his perspective, noticing the very state it was currently in so to speak of at the very least. With a lone tongue, the gilded unicorn was jutting into the pasty redhead right at once, sending tingles through her body as she’d shut both of her eyes tightly, suppressing such quiet moans. She’d reopened them to look onward in contentment at the rest of his body, the former’s flanks still held firmly in the latter’s grasp with a muzzle buried inside at once running a roundabout. The gilded unicorn soon found the time to stopped and lap at the adjacent fundament, bringing out some more pleasure each time his tongue had switched right back and forth respectively. Sure enough, the pasty redhead salivated from the corner of her hot lips with such exploration giving way to satisfaction and concupiscence as he’d stretched her croup widely with such ease. She’d gave out a loud moan, gurgling about at the sight of the gilded unicorn’s yard soon enough as the dribble escaped, surpassing the very point of wishing to have it lodged deeply into herself. The pasty redhead attempted to reach down towards her supersaturated undercarriage and started furbishing rhythmically as he was still permeating throughout her loins in an illustrious manner. She’d mewled about after feeling yet another stroke of the tongue from the gilded unicorn, prompting her to find the time to quickly remove her sheath off of himself and crawled away.

“Hmm… what’s wrong, Twist: did something happen…?” he’d struggled to speak out in confusion.

Lying at the gilded unicorn’s side face–to–face, the aforementioned mare had answered rather instantaneously so to speak, “oh, Thnailth… do you have to be tho quethtioning about my decithionth…?”

“Not at all, I was just wondering what was on your mind when you’d got off me…” he’d said as the pasty redhead was stroking his grassy mane gently, “I thought you’d wanted to keep at it for a while…”

“In time; now, pucker up loverboy…” she’d laughed before quickly stealing a kiss from Snails straightaway.

Since they were both laid out next to each other, their eyes were accented by blushing about considering the twosome maintained a close distance. As the two finally joined hands, their respective lips grew closer to one another while the gilded unicorn’s trembling had started to cease immediately. The pair finally grew more eager, their muzzles finally opened as one another passed, tongues finally slipping out for their very ecstatic exploration. In little time whatsoever, they’d already surrendered themselves upon the concrete underneath them: Twist was already residing onto his very body. Neither of them had relented, continuing for at least over a minute or two tongue–tied during the embrace as their conjoined passions started growing. When Snails transferred his lips from the target down to the neckline, he’d then exhaled dioxide from the nostrils, breathing down on the pasty redhead. Only then when the gilded unicorn’s tongue started licking her shoulder she’d felt the sensation crawl around, not caring due to anticipation therein. Once immediately, Twist’s smile grew as he quickly slid his tongue down to her bosom between delivering pleasure hoped for with a silent whinny. Delighted by the sheer fact that Snails started tugging on them with his teeth; as a result, the pasty redhead had started letting out loud soft moans.

The gilded unicorn was lost in thoughts thanks to his indulgence in her opaque fluid, no similar to the one from the damp sheath he’d been lapping at earlier, “mm, no wonder why she tastes so better than ever: even after all these years, she’s gotten it…”

“Now then…” Twist heaved, breaking away to plant her flowerbed back onto his face, “let uth go thixty–nine now…”

It wasn’t long until the pasty redhead slowly shifted her weight back onto Snails’ body, returning her hooves to his face when her moist undercarriage made contact with the muzzle once again. Contentedly, she’d started licking her moist lips and started to stick her own tongue towards the gilded unicorn’s prepuce, finding only hydrated lubrication with such concupiscent exuberance. Heavy breaths escaped from his mouth and into Twist’s tacky sheath, causing herself to sway her very waist reactively again, moaning quietly in a shared delight all too carelessly so to speak of. Immediately, the pasty redhead decided to forward her lips onto Snails, slurping and licking about whatever substance would be exorcised into her body rather slowly much to his pleasure. Just the sensation of feeling her stimulating, pumping, and lapping at the gilded unicorn’s shaft made the latter return the favor for good measure, his hands grasping onto her rippling haunches. Only then when he’d started rubbing up and down Twist’s body firmly but soothingly did she get aroused even more, going even deeper for some more room to lick around his yard straightaway. Jolts of voltage had traveled all throughout their bodies as the collective moaning between themselves were stifled by their lips and tongues pleasuring one another with reckless abandon. In due time, their own respective fluids had been expelled inside each other almost immediately: as the pasty redhead’s flowerbed gushed about, Snails shot into her slobbering mouth instantly.

Surely enough, she’d quickly seized this very golden opportunity: using her lightweight body to turn around once again, the gilded unicorn felt his yard currently enter the latter’s undercarriage. It didn’t take long at all in the very least for Twist’s very sheath to become firmly aligned almost immediately, giving a small passionate yet heavy breath from her very mouth in his direction. Thereon, Snails started resting his very hands onto the pasty redhead toned flanks, slowly burying his muzzle into the vast and plump cleavage to run his tongue around the nubbins again. To her, she didn’t care about the fact the gilded unicorn now sapped away her bust almost in an instant, already feeling his prepuce directly in her flowerbed calibrating their collective moves. In the midst of the very ordeal, Twist had wrapped her arms around the back of his neckline in an attempt to keep him closer as they were trading away momentum with one another face–to–face. Now that both their coats of fur were starting to give off a small static of satisfaction from the stretch of rasping, feelings of pleasure came by as each movement made the two equines moan. Gearing up for another certain expulsion from Snails’ prepuce inside with each intensity of the pulp friction, the pasty redhead gave a resounding happy moan amid heavy respiration and pants. Sensing the moisture, the gilded unicorn now took aim at her undercarriage, the latter losing control to break away from him with little warning as a trail of white between them shattered.

“OH, LULU…!” he cried out as both his target and himself exploded with fluid together in synchronicity before collapsing back onto the cold pavement underneath themselves soon enough.

Sweating about to little end in sight, Snails and Twist were nevertheless elated to have each other for company close to mutually comfortable numbness.

For what it was worth, the yarns that had been spun would have ended there, already expended for the sake of weaving a story in the altogether. Of course, with the night still young, it was only a few miniscule hours until it could end; granted, so many would’ve been asleep by then. Relatively speaking, there were still a noticeable few having yet to fall prey to the mundane functions like slumber for one reason or another.

Dark skies were finally over the lands, painted with the clusters of stars and a silver crescent already shining the way for many of its observers underneath. It was one of the only aspects of beauty that, against almost everything, remained untouched by the tales of terrible things that had ensued right below earlier. Ever since the atmosphere itself wasn't even cold enough to freeze the most pure of waters, it still had some warmness retained to not let it come to pass overall. Generally speaking, due to such lukewarm temperatures, there was an utter lacking of any precipitation supersaturating any kind of terrain whatsoever. Of course, only few pedestrians left out in the cold below would be found sightseeing with a mixture of fascination and frustration unbecoming nonetheless.

Of the scarce pedestrians within the vicinity of the very area, a lonely mare was discovered to be standing out and about, lightly coated in a down–to–earth scheme. Her very tresses were colored vividly in violet, spiky up in front of her visage with an additional tail created by a singular elastic band holding their fibers together. A jet black ensemble which consists of a jacket, pants, and boots were already overlaying a snow white shirt underneath them, not that anyone would be attentive. One thing which had made her stand out and about were an enormous singular eye: it was double the size of regular eyes yet the iris inside was but a tiny vermilion.

The young monocular mare had plenty much to say yet it was restrained by her own mind quadrant, “hmm, Vanhoover seems to be the perfect place for a cinematic romance: the peaceful nighttime sky, the electric lighting arrangements, the brisk summertime airstreams, the festively various entertainments, even the people are welcoming. Even in Equestria, I could never seem to fit in with the other kids: they’d all ganged up on me for having one eye, an inheritable condition from my family no less; either ponies called me a servant of Arimaspi or Grogar despite being a pony like the rest of them. Ponies in Manehattan can be the worst sometimes, so much so I’d taken up martial arts so that I could never be hurt again; still, the loneliness did all that for them, even the blind guy at my orphanage was more popular than me. Calling it home was barely a stretch with my parents still around as well as my grandmother; it’s probably a good thing that the others didn’t find out what other anomalies my small family had possessed. All that I could look forward to saving up enough money to get out of this fuckhole and fast: had to literally get up pretty fast just so I can deliver papers before sunrise without anypony else noticing who I am actually, let alone where I live. To the rest of the world, mutants like us are nothing more than just target practice for conformists who reject reality and science, taking preexisting notions and turning them into excuses to glorify murder and the like, even in the modern world. Still, I am at peace now: my parents are safe for now, I can hold down a stable job, Manhattan is more friendlier, and Fry and I are married; come to think of it, where is he now…?”

“Hey, Ashvale, I’m back…!” a distant nasally masculine voice broke her linear train of thought straightaway, “you, okay…?”

“Fry…!” the titular traveler talked tersely.

Locked into the monocular mare’s view was one lone olive stallion walking off into her direction with so little signs of deceleration therein. A rather moderate shade of a rather bright orange tresses were discovered to be making its way in a short eddying shaping over his scalp. Surrounding Fry’s luxurious pupils were circles of emerald splash already widened with his coy smile, offset by the blushing underneath. In regards to the olive stallion’s comprehensive attire, he was already showing off his red jacket over a plain white tee and some blue jeans.

She found the time and effort to go up to him immediately and inquired about instantly, “everything okay…?”

“Why wouldn’t it be…?” Fry had said to Ashvale right away without so much as a care in the whole wide world whatsoever, “it’s not everyday you get invited to another party away from the hometown in this age, even with Twilight and Cadence in charge.”

“Let alone bring a swimsuit to this one; compared to the winter several months ago, everyone else was kind of chill about it: not much sex but plenty of energy…” the monocular mare retorted almost instantaneously, looking at the mass of people surrounding them, “if anything, it was nothing more than an arbitrary mixture of the old with the new, come to think of it. Smudge Proof seems to have no problem inviting whoever he wants as long as they happen to have a certain criteria; as a matter of fact, I’ve been noticing a handful of ponies coming here were in the same boat as us: Pipsqueak, Flutterbye, Larissa, Aura, the Crusaders, Lily, Hyacinth, Floor Step, Frosty, Truffle, Grape, DJ, Corn Pops, First Position, Archer, Snails, and others.”

“Indeed, as a matter of fact, I can list a handful of others whom weren’t there today: Tails, Rumble, Skyflier, Moonscoop, Armando, Puppysmiles, Dynamite, Featherweight, Saltwater, Morty, Zip, Sunflower, Sunny Daze, Sun Glimmer, Lickety Split, Crackle, Chirpy, Apple Mint, Zippoorwhill, Skid, Rosy, Snips, Opal, Rain, PP, Coronet, and so forth…” the ginger added on.

Ashvale couldn’t resist eventually seeing two additional mares, Trefoil and Savannah, in full view, currently fully clothed as they were both high and dry compared to much earlier: like the observer, the former also wore a jet–black ensemble, albeit much thinner so to speak whereas the latter donned a pink dress with matching gloves; all in all, they’d maintained their very distance.

The monocular mare spoke to him straightaway, “come to think of it, where’s the rest of their troop: Tag–A–Long, Dulce DeLeche, and Do–Si–Do; how come they weren’t invited…?”

“They’re still around in Equestria: I think that two of them are already married; to be young and in love…” Fry answered, unaware of the lemony pegasus and the minty unicorn osculating each other to no one’s concern, “somehow, I can’t help myself but to think that we’ll be into some whole other shindig like this once again soon enough…”

“What makes you say that…?” Ashvale asked.

The middleweight ginger looked up at the moon and stars and said, “maybe it’s destiny or something like those red strings of fate… I don’t know, it’s kind of like what you had said earlier about the whole party being arbitrary: mostly everypony from the Rosemound event happened to be a bunch of redheads, or at the very least, warmly colored. The Crusaders were a dead giveaway from the start because I knew them well; what did surprise me the most about them was Scootaloo: I didn’t take her to be a mare into other mares, let alone a pegasus into earth ponies.”

“What’s wrong with it, Fry…?” the monocular mare muttered about aimlessly, meandering over to his side, “you had no problem with dating me…”

“Don’t take this the wrong way: I’m not against this kind of lifestyle or people into it; I just seem surprised about the fact that she’s not like Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle when you think about it…” Fry elaborated effortlessly.

A frown appeared upon Ashvale’s face as she’d spoken abruptly, “you’re not saying you have the hots for her now after all this time, aren’t you?!”

“Not at all, Ash: if anything, I’m still faithful to you nevertheless; I won’t allow myself to cheat on you with anyone, male or female…!” the middleweight ginger had choked out defensively, turning around to face the monocular mare instantaneously, “besides, you’re amazing in your own way: smart, funny, tough, kind, sophisticated, cool; you know, that kind of stuff…”

“You’re right, Fry… I’m just being overtly cautious, that’s all… even I should know that you wouldn’t do it, no matter how many parties we get invited to…” Ashvale sighed softly, her concave inverting in the process much to his relief.

Fry took in a breath of fresh air and cerebrated silently, “I wonder what’s going on with Snips and Babs: Apple Bloom had said that they were expecting a foal sometime soon this year…”

That being said, for every story at its end, another would’ve also began in its place like a revolution: with and without violence in typical coexistence. As such, the silvery moon and the platinum stars dwelling above, no doubt illuminating the dark skies all cleared of the shines in the storm way too long ago. Under no small magnitude of time whatsoever, life started stopping at a standstill, or for the numerous up and running, slowing to the ticking timepieces.

Such was the case for one of the many vast and magnificently smaller conurbation on display, defined in more variously rustic materials befitting for the likes of the three little pigs. A calm gentle breeze was surfing across the grassy knolls, the brilliant green surrounding it on a lower plane of existence with a dirt road guiding to the forestry nearby it straightaway. In the background were a valley and ridge of mountains raging with growth and erosion in the process of their trying times as the shining skies were looking down on them already. The town bustled with an utter abundance of people from various demographics whatsoever: age, gender, finances, and social positions notwithstanding; still, the activities were waning.

One such area in particular was a marketplace filled to the brim with a variety of goods and services readily available to the public; however, many of its sections were either closed off or being hauled away for safekeeping and storage, final results notwithstanding.

Of the few shopkeepers still roaming about in the chill of the night, a lone stallion was found to be standing out and about, lightly coated in the amber waves of grain. Although that his tresses were gray like the moon above himself, there was but a thin stripe of copper matching his eyes, a clear contrast to the youthful landscapes. Raiment consisting of a jaded cotton shirt and bleached denim were also accompanied by a silver cane underneath the right hand, used to aid the amber stallion at once.

“So this is what our country had come to now: ponies taking pictures of other ponies and their unmentionables; what a time to be alive…” he ruminated about, holding a circular tray of pastry in his left forearm as he’d perambulated onward with little sense of direction, “for just a second there, that picture reminded me of my granddaughter; I'd hate to know if this were actually her…”

As the amber stallion was walking along the area, he’d seemed calm on the outside yet thinking throughout the entire time at once: it seems that the contents of the foodstuff in question weren’t even enough to calm the tempest brewing about deep within himself; the crisp cool airstreams were assaulted by the inner heat from his breath through the dentition and lips overlaying them.

“Last call, no refunds…!” a masculine voice escaped into the atmosphere but it didn’t belong to the elder pedestrian actively trudging about.

The amber stallion wasted no time finding the source of the speaker’s voice straightaway: a younger unicorn coated in a clash of grayish copper. Another contrast between the two shopkeepers were the jet–black tresses worn by the other guy, showing no deviation within themselves whatsoever. The grayish unicorn sported a pair of moderate turquoise, bearing a more livelier coloration compared to the rest of his very body so to speak of. On a similar note, from what the amber stallion could see, his youthful counterpart also wore green clothes as well: a shirt and a scarf among them.

The elder observer could see that the grayish unicorn was standing in a bluish booth with an equitable caricature in the middle of eating a slice of the pastry within the former’s possession: abaft of the latter was a checkerboard spacing in a clash of red and black were many of them stood within displays for the many to take note of.

As far as the amber stallion could see currently, his younger correspondent was now a target for some words to be spoken to at once: all that the former needed to do was wait until their clientele had dispersed so as to minimize all collateral damage whatsoever if any; despite the growing anger and the fading daylights, the latter was safe from the excess alone but not for long though.

In a matter of mere minutes, the last of the customers had dispersed, a couple at that so to speak: now, it was time for the elderly onlooker to make his move right on and fast in the young night; almost immediately, he was quick to approach the grayish unicorn with a smile before speaking, “evening, lad… I’m Grand Pear, a shopkeeper just like you: I happen to sell some pear jams. You must be the guy selling the pies my assistant had bought earlier…”

“Yeah…” the youthful producer said, “what of it?”

“Take this…!” Grand Pear snarled, shoving the foodstuff into the grayish unicorn’s face without any warning whatsoever as the former’s concave inverted in an instant, leaving the latter no time at all to react.

The youthful shopkeeper felt his face colored with fruit and cream with the crust accentuating the integuments and raiment; afterwards, he’d shrieked at the amber stallion instantaneously, “what on Equestria is your problem; are you serious?!”

“You want to know what my problem is; well let me tell you something here, you sick punk: do you have the slightest idea of what you have been doing?!” the elderly observer fired back with anger, unperturbed by the grayish unicorn’s shock and outrage as the former glared about, “I’m amazed anyone, pony or otherwise can make a living selling this crap to others like hotcakes…!”

“What kind of shit is this…?” the youthful victim growled.

Grand Pear wasted no time explaining to the grayish unicorn, “back in my day, if you were going to sell something to somebody, then the least you could’ve done was make it appropriate: there was honor, respect, a good time to make something of yourself; nowadays, ponies might as well start selling porn for a bit in a library…! It seems you make a living selling pictures of little foals underneath the crust of pastry while I make a living selling food so nobody would end up taking pictures; this is just between you and me: I ought to put you out of business for that…!”

“What the shit has gotten into you?!” the youthful shopkeeper spat out, feeling parts of the pasty plopping off of him, “it’s not like they’re illicit…!”

“You’ll understand…” the amber stallion snorted.

The grayish unicorn muttered about in annoyance, “look, I think you’re a little bit out of touch: don’t you have a wife and kids to go back to, right…? What do you make: twenty–five bits daily…? I have made fifteen hundred with these pies since weeks ago on preorders alone; I can give you some unmarked pies free of charge: should you choose to accept them, we can all walk away happily ever after.”

“I’d like nothing more than to shove this pie pan down your throat but I think you’ll vomit it back up in mid–entry; either way, you’re gonna put it in your mouth and eat it along with the picture…” the elder replied to his younger target.

The grayish unicorn now stuttered about, “what picture; what does this have to do with me?!”

“This picture, fuckwit…!” Grand Pear answered, displaying a photograph of a redheaded mare colored in a similar yet colder coating than him, wearing nothing more than a pink bow and a red collar as both males can plainly see; speaking of which, her eyes were obscured by a jet–black rectangle, “it’s one thing to sell porn in broad daylight, but too close to home, you’ve fucked up! This girl happens to be my granddaughter and it’s clear that whomever is behind the scenes is as ineffective as a so–called hentai artist so let’s make a deal: tell me where you’d gotten the pictures and I’ll make it easier by just letting you swallow the portrait; after all, you’re probably going to be ending up in the bathroom all night trying to get the metal out of your body.”

“Screw you, I ain’t a snitch…” the youthful shopkeeper coughed up straightaway, earning a cold exhalation from the amber stallion.

Afterwards, the elder regained his composure and said to the grayish unicorn, “I understand: the code of the streets is more important to you than common sense or survival; I just hope Granny Smith doesn’t hear about this…”

“Granny Smith?!” the younger shopkeeper sputtered about as his ears just flopped, “you mean–––”

“I sure hope this mean we have a deal now, do we, kid…?” Grand Pear chuckled, refusing to let his copper eyes go wandering away from the grayish unicorn, despite standing firmly in place afore the latter.

Nevertheless, the vignettes of vicissitudes reached their collective conclusion like so with the most likely yet depleting chance of continuance therein. A small screen had resided about in an orderly fashion against the darkness before the enemy red dawn with pictures of mares and stallions along others. Already in the throes of concupiscence moving onward, the most that could be said about them was that it was stuck in the past, hence grainy imagery. To say about their origins overall was a default gateway to the stardust memories of what had transpired directly within these very vantage points overall.

Before its projected state were two ponies alike in indecency and libidinous: Smudge Proof lounging about in a red chair and Silver Wing up close and personal as they were both watching the series of events unfold before their eyes where the party onscreen happened to be going about their merry way without their collective knowledge.

Out of the many in focus were three little ponies, each with their own similarities and differences between themselves as well as others: Flutterbye herself was amongst them as far as they’d seen. The zebra underneath the fruity pegasus was female, like both of the fliers, despite the former’s smaller bosoms; standing behind them both was a white stallion, like the unicorn, albeit patchy. Unlike Flutterbye’s tresses which had incorporated every color of the rainbow, the stripey mare wore a monochromatic scheme like so, and the patchy pony had brown hair matching his eyes. Like the fruity pegasus, the zebra’s eyes were cold yet warm with concupiscence; unlike the former whose eyes bloomed with cornflowers, the stripey one blossomed with orchids instead. Another commonality between the females were their flanks: though they wore butterflies, only Flutterbye herself had more coloring; the lonely brunet wore a compass and an X with a trail. Although the entire threesome was in the altogether, only the mares themselves had worn collars around their necklines: the fruity pegasus wore jet–black whereas the zebra donned some blue. Even their facial structures almost had the observers confused initially: the patchy pony’s muzzle was rounded out like Flutterbye yet the stripey mare was more boxy, bearing masculine angles. The most contentious piece of detail between themselves were their stature: the lone brunet had carried meat on his bones yet otherwise lightweight, much like the zebra and the fruity pegasus.

Almost immediately, it was also at this very point in time that both of the females onscreen were now mutually inverted towards one another, all the hands making contact with the corresponding kneecaps as their owners’ mouths were aligned with their waistlines. Contentedly, Flutterbye had started mollycoddling the stripey counterpart’s sheath frolicsome by using a few of her own fingers to tickle the edges; in an aroused response, the latter had stuck out a tongue up at the former instantly, fully aware of its supersaturation. The fruity pegasus swayed her waist responsively, bouncing around lightly for at least several times and moaning quietly in delight, caressing her petite cleavage before deciding to do the same to the zebra’s flowerbed, forwarding their hot and heavy lips. Each time Flutterbye had felt the monochromatic mare stimulating, exploring, and licking the dainty undercarriage, it began to get harder so the former was returning the favor; it’d got so hard both hands grasped on the latter’s rippling thighs and rubbed them. Because the zebra’s tongue was already intertwined within the fruity pegasus’ sheath and vice versa, their instantaneous aria of libidinousness were just being stifled by their very own lips and tongues bringing pleasure to one another, the timing notwithstanding. Soon, their tongues and mouths had began to transfer so much stimulating pleasures amongst themselves quickly, it’d seem they would’ve been able to get their wishes granted; soon, Flutterbye started to break away after getting her own fill presently.

It was at this point in time the fruity pegasus lolled her tongue, sensing a shaft shoved into her flowerbed by the patchy pony, recoiling about while the monochromatic mare still lapped on. The simple fact the lone brunet was lodged within Flutterbye had made him hot and bothered, feeling the compounds inside her undercarriage the brief moments in between the push and pull. Only because of their weight, the fruity pegasus was relieved to find her sheath had maintained a looser grip, mews growing loud with each passing thrust throughout stirring with momentum. The patchy pony paused for a moment to savor the feeling of Flutterbye’s nerves and its endings alongside with the collective solution produced by her and the zebra’s previous performance. Needless to say, the lone brunet started slamming into the fruity pegasus as hard as possible, causing her to tense up yet relax anyway due to the rather excessive ease and moisture inside. The patchy pony pumped himself further inward, delivering more crushing blows to Flutterbye in a steady pattern only to go unloading her deluge on her monochromatic counterpart’s muzzle.

Although the two of them were moving their mouths, they were silent to a fault; that being said, all three of the equines were enjoying this moment together: of them, the lone brunet had gritted his teeth after pushing into the fruity pegasus instantaneously for the stripey onlooker to watch after retreating whilst they’d given one another a passionate kiss shared between them both only.

It didn’t take long for Silver Wing to finally speak to Smudge Proof right away, “so, what did you think of the performance; pretty sweet of him to fuck Flutterbye’s flanks off, huh master…?”

“At least he’s showing promise: it won’t even be long now before he returns home just in time for the holidays; after all, there’s kind of a treat awaiting the lot of them…” the white unicorn replied to the silver pegasus as they’d watched the patchy pony get his yard licked away by both mares, “I wonder how they’ll handle having being a foal in a sweet shop this time around…”

“Only this time, it’ll be bigger than a sweet shop, much larger at that: with the money we’ve been making, we’ll have the whole place to ourselves for the whole night, like before; Rosemound was nothing more than a bed and breakfast waiting to happen yet Trottingham will be more on the sweeter side…” Silver Wing sniggered about sensuously so to speak of.

A dry chuckle had escaped from Smudge Proof’s lips, “a little too sweet: the candy over there is more expensive compared to the likes at Ponyville after all…”

“Still, it’ll be enough for them to have all the fun to themselves; by the time the holidays come and go as usual, nobody will even suspect a thing…” the silver pegasus cooed as she was now taking a stand before the white unicorn at once, “for every individual who purchases our films will also get their complementary erotic candies, courtesy of our esteemed performers no less…”

“Yes and they’ll be accustomed to their liking unlike their regular run–of–the–mill confections; of course, it’d be wise not to sell them to children, much like all of the controlled substances within Equestria, mind you…” Smudge Proof sighed softly before playfully smacking Silver Wing on the croup with little hesitation no less.

The silver pegasus swished her tail in the white unicorn’s direction and giggled blithely about, “relax, it’s not like what that edgelord scumbag try to do will make any difference whatsoever this time around: as far as we’d seen it, preparations were made in advance to ensure that he wouldn’t get the knights and guards to run after us all; besides, he’d brought it on himself…”

“Indeed… Springwheel’s been nothing more than a headache for a few months back: I heard that they and the brothers had to settle out of court so it wouldn’t reach the princesses’ ears; part the terms and conditions were he'd needed to be made redundant for the sake of the company's future…” Smudge Proof said as he’d massaged his forehead gently.

Silver Wing strutted out of the white unicorn’s sight and said, “if it’s not too much trouble, I’ll go and draw you a bath; it’s getting late anyway and we have a long day ahead of us: we have the master copy sequestered away but the editing process had just begun so to speak of. Besides, we’ve done enough literal fucking around for one evening and I need to sleep too so we can stay focused on tomorrow morning; I hope I can make it up to you by then, master…”

“Don’t worry about it, Winger: I’m just about feeling the pills wear off though; we need to find a new distributor in the meantime…” Smudge Proof groaned as he’d remained fixated onto the small screen without any distractions whatsoever, “I’ll catch up with you later…”

“Ciao…!” the silver pegasus chirped before leaving the white unicorn to his own devices.