... And Taste this Piping Hot Pie
I couldn’t fucking beliv-
Well, no. Gotta rewind a bit so you know what station you’ve tuned into.
My name’s Limestone Pie. Lead singer of Lime in the Sand. Temporary ex-rock farmer. And I’m a long way from home.
Shit, I didn’t even want to leave before I came of age to own the farm my family runs, but... I saw the moth-ridden curtains. I saw Marble’s limp getting worse despite her face brightening each time we promised she’d ‘be at the doc tomorrow, we promise; just after the latest retirement check clears.’ I saw the excuses Mom gave to Pinkie every time she wrote asking if we needed anything get weaker by the week - as did her voice. But, most of all, I saw the dust gather on that offer by Coloratura to fund a band I put together, resting on my dresser.
So I made the offer to Dad, just after his last row with the utility pony. Wanna believe it’s cuz I got through to him and not that he didn’t just wanna be alone for the night that he looked at me and said ‘Go for it, Lime.’ Otherwise, that’d shatter my heart in a way no pickaxe ever could.
In short: belief’s a thing I usually extend a lot of fuckin’ leeway toward. Right now, I’m struggling to maintain that shit in the face of the Igneous-long-schlonging fate’s given me right now. (Yes, Dad’s well-endowed, he birthed us and an Element of Harmony, we’ll lend-lease you enough of our product to build a bridge and get the fuck over it.)
Yeah, I could fuckin’ believe that my gig was in a town that looks like it was chopped out of a Vanhoover backlot. Can’t be choosers where we’re at.
Yeah, I could believe that the weather report that the smirk-happy Wonderdolt wannabe Rainbow gave me as a tip was hot garbage; literally so. I was sweating through my leather jacket, studs lining the shoulders and spikes probably the only cool part of me in the humid, thick air. Besides everything else under it, of course. It’s like she wants me to ruin Spitfire for her, I want to pound her so bad. Not too picky on which pounding, either.
I could even believe that this was the third of my shows, despite being away from Holder's Boulder - and my rock farm, too - for under five weeks. Dad would never admit it, but when I first suggested putting those rock lyrics under my squashy bed to use, his eyes went to that calendar that signaled the end of rock harvest season more and more with each ask.
Tartarus’s scarlet shitpipes, I even fuckin’ believe that a villa run by a recluse like Stepford Grinner - sorry, Starlight Glimmer - would pay top bits for concerts. After that bitch’s work with trying to rob the cutie marks of everypony in that copy-pasted cul-de-sac, of course, they’d want some sweet beats to drill her out of their minds.
And I - well, my band - can deliver. More to the point, I’ve gotta. Not only for my family, but…. ‘cuz Vinyl wasn’t gonna be around to prop up my shows forever. She had her own stuff to push. Usually into several choice holes of that pompadour-haired Tavi, last I heard. Go, Vinnie.
What WAS utterly Luna-damned unbefuckin’-leaveable was how up his own gourd the first person to greet me in OurTown was. Party Favor, right? Certainly said it enough looking over me while I was waiting for terms and conditions in the makeshift office I stepped in.
I just crossed my nicely shaped denim-covered legs, pulled down the new shirt I made, and waited for his muzzle to stop moving. Usually, this did the trick, though I wasn’t that opposed to going further. Just needed to get in and out of here, get the contract with Coloratura, and show Dad the progress this band’s making. Then, maybe my heart would stop throbbing so painfully when I have to write to Maud about ‘renovations’ being why she can’t visit us month after month.
No matter how nicely he filled out the chair, Favor wouldn't be the first dolt to stiff me after a gig. For real, there was a problem with the windows in that Manehattan gig, not me! Trenderhoof couldn't see that, tough fuckin’ cookies. “So your band’s name is Lime in the Sand, right?” Even the grin he shot me was so sheepish.
“Yeah, and I’m lead vocalist.” Said it three times in the letters we had, are your ears in the sand? I didn’t shout out. There was a reason this was my third gig and not fourth; I’d learned that the hard way with Hoity.
That was also the first time I noticed a dancing vein rise in that temple of his. Wouldn’t give a damn normally, but it ripples through his cobalt skin like a rash, and well, every one of his muscles tighten. It’s… actually pretty wild. But apparently it wasn’t even close to getting him riled up; it was gone in a flash. “I-In a moment. Now, you’re certain the event will be no longer than an hour?”
“You got it.” I tittered. As if I needed more than that to turn the mosh pit into a cream factory. But I learned early on that setup time is a bitch, even with the new chariot car we got sitting at the edge of the city limits.
“I hope so.” Back came the smile so forced Twilight Sparkle had to have a damn patent on it. “You came highly recommended by the Apple family and Miss Pinkie, but I’m a bit suspicious that their reports of your talent from them and that from your previous venues… differ.”
Speaking of Pinkie-approved, I could see Junebug. She was joyously pointing to the stage that she’d littered with black petals earlier. Normally she wouldn’t be here, but after the Canterlot cockup, we had her switch positions with Lemon Hearts. Now that yellow unicorn’s in Rainbow Falls promoting the upcoming show of ours, and Junebug, is… well, doing as well as a Pinkie Pie promoted pony can do. “Got my word we’ll be on our best behavior, daddy.”
Party Favor stiffened in his seat. “Well,” he breathed. “I’ve got it all worked out here - maintaining civility clauses, property damage scaling, the contact rules…” The contract signing went quickly after that.
Mighta been cuz’ I went through this process like clockwork, considering it was the same deal I made with the other ponies in my band for their help in making Lime in the Sand big. Turns out, in a world where the Elements of Harmony take ‘impossible’ and spitroast it into submission daily, you can get a pony’s help for a song. In their town, specifically. Ponyville for Junebug, second for… well, that was Canterlot, Manehattan for Serenade, and now here.
Of course, it could also be due to me saying ‘daddy’ in a tone like I wanted him to bend me over that table and caulk my cunt shut. Hey, whatever worked for Hoity, right? Unfortunately, he was made of more tightly stacked shit, and I was just given the standard deal. Fifty bits from each attending pony, another five hundred from the venue setter if they liked it too. Kinda at their mercy, which sucks ass. But that’s music for you: a long, hard slog.
After that bullshit hashout, we got on stage. We had Junebug on guitar, Double Diamond on drums, and Stellar Eclipse on horns. And we managed to keep it on the tame end too for once (in that the number of cracked glass objects stayed in the single digits.) Songbird’s pipes were beautiful enough to make glass spin itself for her. Wouldn’t be surprised if she got big goin’ single. She was originally the biggest holdout about our lyrics, but here, the blonde pegasus couldn’t keep a grin off her muzzle at the swaying crowd.
By the time we were finished with the song, we were all glowing - bit redder for Junebug than the others, but it I twirled up the mic while thrusting my chest out so they could see the Equestrian By Birth / Enraged by Choice shirt we all sported (but which looked best bulged against my taut boobs (then again, what doesn’t?) and blew them a kiss goodnight. This was fuckin’ perfect! I thought as I headed to the back, the rest of the band tending to the crowd overflowing the wooden mosh pit. Shit, this Party Favor would be pissing bits at us now!
Or just pissing mad, when I stopped backstage to the little house on the hill behind and got met with a barrage of foam from his snapping maw. “You brought your band here to play a song called Hatefuck?!” Favor yelled.
Beautiful. Hot but a square. I hate it already. “One: It's called 'Hätefükken'; if you're gonna rag on my music, do it properly! Two: your fellow townmate Double Diamond came up with it! Wanna know what it was called in full?” Okay, so, half-lie: Diamond did come up with a song about scoring Tall, Dark, and Down with Wingjobs, but it wasn’t called that. He’s a bro though; willing to say it was.
“I know what I’m calling this - a breach of contract!” yelled the megacunt. “We just got out from Glimmer’s bootheel, and now they’re gonna be singing about drinks after sink-screwing?! I thought that was about hygiene!”
I loosened one of my gloves, flexing out the silvery knuckles it once contained. Down to throwing hands instead of voices, huh? It didn’t matter how mouthwatering those abs rippled under his sleeveless shirt, if his noise-hole didn’t close soon I was wiring it shut. “I don’t give a shit how you are in the bathroom or bedroom! We had a deal!”
“Consider our deal done! Now get out of Our Town!” And there goes the motherlode of our efforts here, courtesy of the Party Crasher. Time to remind this idiot who really got Our Town out of their shacks today. Some of us don’t need to be made of helium and elastic to get blown, Favor.
“It’s their town, limp dick.” My gloved finger jutted back to the encore calls still pumping from the back. They could do it without me for the… five seconds it’d take for me to tenderize Favor’s face. “Oh, yeah; Diamond made that song after your breakup with Glider! And if you’re this suckass at giving mares what they want, no wonder you’ve got a better chance of getting it with your balloon-animals than her!”
He didn’t respond, his face reddening like I’d stuck a knife in it. Guess what, douche? Twisting time. “Or maybe it’s because it’s not the only thing in Our Town that pops easily.”
I could finally feel that last nerve break within his own head, and suddenly, his tone was hissing and low - like a burning fuse. “Celestia’s grace, you’re just as frustrating as that evil bitch Glim-!” His fist crumpled a dent into the wall of the house behind me, light pink plaster caving in under his knuckles. Of course I react to that, who wouldn't? My fist’s trajectory went toward his face, but he was faster than I thought. I expected him to teleport, to give me running room, but it was his arm that flashed out first, catching my fist in his palm with a stinging smack of skin against skin.
In a world where everypony else would either storm off and or stay and scream for security… Party Favor was matching me, blow for blow. And again, I could feel the rapid pulse of his heartbeat, his veins thrumming against my hand. Suddenly I was glad I’d gotten the glove off of my own. It’d been a while since I’ve felt somepony get this charged.
“Bad as who, huh? That cultist cunt?! She leave that staff in your ass when she bailed?” My voice was like a slap across his face, for once, wincing at each word I spat out.His left hand retracted from the wall; I moved to catch in with my left, both our knuckles whitening from the pressure. “Do something about it, then, if you’re as hard as that sfaff is!” My head reared back to knock that horn off his twisted face and into whatever cave Stepford Grinner was clopping in-
-and his head followed mine until our mouths connected. Now it was my head smacking into the wall, our lips connected. Our lips? Wasn’t this guy pissed? I was too! And yet I didn’t stop him. That sweet heartbeat was in my ears again, from his body to mine, as our maws crushed together. No hiding behind others; no waiting for them to save you. Just striking out and taking what you want. Reminded me just why I loved music so much - how appetizing it was.
Nevermind that shit I slung earlier, I’ve finally found my people. “This hard enough for you?“ Party hissed. That dirty directive rumbled right down my throat from his, and I shivered. My knees clambered into his as our tongues tangled further, craving more. I didn’t know whether it was to push him away or feel just how big that bulge against the front of his own slacks were. Diamond-crushingly hard, if you were curious.
I could feel my jeans’ crotch dampen on contact. “Guess, bitch.” I shot back. With that retort, our kiss broke with snapping strings of saliva, and right into the sides of his neck went my black-tipped hands. I squeezed that column of pale muscle ruthlessly, and got more of that hot breath in my face. Minty and humid and crisp, and it shoots through me like sparkling cider. Yeah, I probably risked knocking him out, but I need him focused on that instead of-
-Gotcha. The grip one of my hand on his crotch got the grip on my jacket. A heave of my shoulders and suddenly, it’s his back against the house of Stepford Grinner. His fists balled up in my jacket and my glove covered hand went a couple inches higher. My pale fingers slipped off his simple leather belt. Another few flicks of the hand, and that belt was wrapped around my hand, cross-stitched bands against leather feeling way too nice.
I rear back and launch. My knuckles reverberated against his side, and his roar sent another flood of lust seeping down my legs. My other hand goes up to slap him, but again, right in his fleshy mitt it goes. His other hand goes to my shirt and roughly shoves it upwards, skin revealing itself to lust-drunk azure eyes. By the time it balls up around my generous C-cups, my left hand is yanking down his pants. It’s a task made just a little fuckin’ harder by the fact we’re sucking off each other’s lips.
Then his hand slips under the triangles of my shimmering black bra and rubs against my nipple. It’s pierced, and the cool metal against his searing hand makes my hips crush into his, barbs of delicious pain striking my heart. “Fuck, the other one…” I pant in his mouth like a wanton whorse. He switches tits quickly, his temple resting against mine as his horn base rubbed against my ear. I turned my head and sucked in the protrusion, my black lipstick leaving a stain on it as prominent as the one against his hips.
His body twitches as I suck against his horn, tongue tangling around it as the light sparks off it bounce around the inside of my cheeks like rock candy. I move my drooling maw off it and give it several rapid-fire flicks with my tongue. His pupils shrink at the lewd sight - yeah, they better be - and suddenly, he’s shoving me to my knees. I know what’s next, and before he can snap off those damp indigo boxers, I do in one brutal tug.
“F-fuck, Favor, how did you hide this?” Before, I thought that Staff of Sameness was shoved in some hole down there. Staring at the thick log of stallion meat before me, I knew I picked the wrong hole. Veins pulsed enticingly along his fourteen-inch cock - enough that I could feel the virility flowing through his erection. And the tip was drenched in burbling pre-cum, more of it dripping on the swell of my exposed breast. Nevermind, Night Glider was missing out. Got so many things wrong about how this night would turn out, didn’t I?
I wrap hands on the medial ring, pumping this rigid sperm-stack. And his hands were in his hair the whole time I spoke. “So, Favor, you want it between here?” I yanked down the other half of my bra, crushing my breasts together, pierced nipples kissing as my breath just gets all fuckin’ types of labored. “Or here?” My maw opens wide, and I can feel the cock in my hand touch the tip of my chin. We have an answer “Cool. Hands off my hair or your meat gets bite-sized.”
My speech ends, seven inches of dick swallowed fast enough that a gasp escapes the back of his throat before his length hits mine. My tongue repeats the same treatment on it before it hits his horn, and I’m bobbing back and forth. It’s so warm! So full of life, in a way I didn’t think anypony could be! And his convulsing body only spurs me on. I go faster, lightly lapping around the medial ring. It tastes of him, and ozone, and the tangy sweetness of sperm.
Just as I’m about to pull back and check on my progress, he makes the next move. His hands surge to my neck, and he barrels into my snout. Suddenly, I’m struggling for breath; holy shit, I didn't even think I could take anypony’s cock this far. My torso and back are flexing to give my throat the proper leeway to accept his glorious girth. Son of a bitch found a way around grabbing my grey hair. And it was the second-hottest thing I’d ever experienced, right behind the colossal cock stretching out my throat.
His hands still clamped around my neck, I pulled back from the doubled-over Party Favor and slide his bar back inside. Everything is vibrating as I deepthroat this stallion, and it’s all driving me crazy. My ungloved hand popped the button on my jeans as I worked his dick, hand twisting around the slickening base as I went deeper. Pretty soon, my pussy gets the same treatment, two of my fingers sliding in my snatch as my thumb abuses the hood and the pink knob above.
I’m close within seconds (and the next living thing that cackles about how it took a minute for me to get that soaked gets their pelvis welded shut.) My fingers are just that good. I’m sliding within my velvet walls, my lungs are screaming for air almost as hard as Favor’s is for me. The taste of his cock as it swells in my maw tells me he’s as close to creaming as me, too.
“Lim-Lime, don’t-! I’m goo-” Goo’s the right word for it, Party Favor. Gallons of it, because his cock-head flares in my throat at his last through and he blows his stack. Thick ropes of stallion sperm launch into my stomach. Again and again, he fires, and I’m pushing into my slick snatch, and I love the feel of every vein against my throat. I know he feels it too, the vibrations shooting to his hands as they squeeze his cock around its silver-skinned sleeve.
I hit a spongy bud of nerves deep within me, and my jet-black fingernails get coated in white as I finally cum. Warm, glittering cuntsap coats my pumping palm, pools on the ground, and causes me to convulse harder against Favor’s fucking funstick. But his loads are winding down - I can feel his swaying seed-sacks shrivel, his length softening enough to let my tongue get some salty-sweet jizz. I’m gasping for air, the oxygen now tingling against my burning hot throat. Holy hell; he’s into the rough shit just as I am. And all I want to do is see it again.
His fingers release my throat, and I lace them with one of mine. It’s the cum-slicked fingers - spoiler alert - and I leer against his sweat-slick abs as I push them towards his mouth. “Like that?” His nose flares at the smell of me, and his tongue reaches out to taste it. He laps away as my fingers, and our arms bend, the swells of my breast pushing against him as he nods in approval. “Hope you liked this, Favor... “ My hips swivel against him, and I feel his dick grind against the cleft in my jeans. “‘Cause it's the deepest you’ll ever be in a mare.”
Exit stage Limestone. I may have serviced his savory shaft, but I knew he had to be done after that seed storm. As I’d soon find out, however, I was only in the eye of it. Color flushes back into Favor’s face, his hands to my collar and we’re bursting through the door before I can blink.
“Bedroom. Now.” It’s a growl more suited to a manticore. His hands rush back to my shirt that rolled down in our tumble, and he elects to simply rip it down the middle, cotton parting as soon as my lips do. The kiss is brief, his hands shoving down my pants. No thong to ruin, either; I usually end up with my hand down there so often I go without.
We bump into walls, smash vases and jars from our flailing arms as they travel over pale bodies, tip over tables alike as we move to the bedroom. By this time, my pants are two rooms off, and my legs are wrapped around his hips, grinding lewdly against his re-hardening ramrod. Him not trying to keep me balanced also means he can twist open the knob to Starlight’s room. My eye caught onto the stereo he’d laid up in here. Apparently he’d used the bitch’s room as a dump. It gave me an idea for another warm-up act.
“Back there. Can’t wait. Need you in me...” My ass scrapes into the shag ceiling of the speakers within moments, and my back hits the wall. Our hands scrape against each other’s nipples, and his lips go to my neck, molars leaving inky marks against my collarbone. Stars dance in front of my eyes as my head smack back against the wall. My hands give the same treatment my pussy is getting to his giant girth, slickness spreading across his length from three points of me.
Rock-hard within minutes, I guide him to my dripping labia. No priming is needed this time; no prompting either, after a pump of his hips sheaths him fully in me. It jams harshly against my G-spot and our hips crush together from the sudden synapse that spark up. I spasm against him, but I’m ready this time. “Put me through this wall, you fucking wuss.” I croon into his face.
Favor tries. Sweet fuck, he tries. We jerk and thrash against each other, motions a blur as lime-covered hips slap against balloon-animal-covered flanks. Only thing in an actual knot is me, thanks to Party Favor’s tip smacking against my cervix. I try not to moan too hard - don’t want him thinking his cock is as savory as it feels. He slaps me on the fifth thrust, and that effort fails as hard as a keening cry rips from my throat.
I’ve somehow forgotten that his belt is in my left hand, but the snap of its stitched bands as I crash the fist it’s wound around into his side is beautiful. He smacks me again, hard. Pain fireworks its way across my face, my mop of hair looking like he used it as a stirrup with how it’s bouncing against the wall to bunch up in clumps. For once, though, the vibrations take me away from that. The speaker creaked in the wake of our rough pummeling, I’m positive the juices we’re leaking against it might make any outlet that takes it a bomb fuse. But I’m finally in bliss.
“Harder. Fuck medeeper,” He does, jackhammering into my squelching hole, as my cunt milks him for all he’s worth. His thrusts become shallower as he lifts one of my legs. His head rests against the cooling leather of my boot and I throw another punch into his side because I know he can pierce my womb now and I want him motivated. The pumping of his meatlog at that new angle rolls my eyes into the back of my throat, and I cum for the second time, a “Fuuuuck~!” muffled in his bobbing blue hair as my loins spasms another layer of glaze over his girthy cock.
Rage floods through me. He’s not supposed to make me cum before I do. No stallion is! I left the farm to finally know control! To finally imprint myself on the world that’d ride us all dry than respect us. And I am not letting so -”Oh Luna, keep thrusting! Rut me! Breed me!” - some ex-cultist cuntsplitter run me. I’m still being bobbed around it, my jacket-covered arms thrust against the wall we’re screwing on.
I’ll take that sigh I gave as we catapulted back on Starlight’s bed to my grave. Mainly because it was over relief that my shove landed us there and not among the debris-riddled floor. A fresh wave of pre and marecum immediately sloshes out onto the bed as I find myself straddling his tasty length. My hair falls over my face as I peer down over him, and I roll my hips at the nerve-frying friction between our loins.
“Still think… I can’t last a second in this town?” I hissed, delighting in how fast I could interrupt his response with another shot to his torso. Right above the ribs too, to extend the bruise there.
“Guess, Gli-bitch.” Man Favor’s got issues. But the touch he lays on my lime-stamped flanks is surprisingly soft considering my last contact, and I finally found out what I liked most about him as his hips savagely surged into me. Party Favor’s… surprisingly capable of being as rowdy as me. But what really roils me up is when he finds the balance. Like he did before I tipped the scales against the wall of Starlight’s front door. That paradox of a pony, between his shrunken eyes and the brat-who-got-the-biggest-gift-for-Hearth’s-Warming smile below it. I melt upon seeing it - it reminds me of our pink pone away from home.
The glare I shot him next successfully masked that, though. I’m lust-drunk, not brain-dead. “Stay like that,” I cooed, as I jumped up and down, my cunt swallowing his stallionhood.
His glance stays as it was before, I think he might know. I don’t get a chance to ask, because his hands move to my nipples again and tug around the rings jutting through them. The sensation sends my eyes shooting up to the chandelier, and my mind blanks. I mouth out his name as my hips licentiously swivel and around his colossal cock.
Is it this playing with my funbags that starts rewiring my mind? Or is it that he’s doing it on the bed of Equestria’s greatest identity thief? Whatever the case, I’m asking too many questions and not making him wheelchair-cart worthy with my cuntsap-drenched groin, so I rectify that fast. Soon, the loud smack of our pelvises surging through this room, an octave short of our stereo moans. I thirst for him, and I need to be fucked raw by him.
“Staff of Sameness -ooh fuck - is it still here?” My breath hitches on his latest thrust, the ringed edge of his ramrod tapping at the entrance to my womb. He really might fill me full of foals at this rate. Ah well, I was only in this for a year at most. I still needed to be back to show I was ready to run the roost with Dad. And by Luna’s lubed loins, if I lose my washboard-abs to anything, I want it to be him.
Mainly because he always knows what to stuff my stockings with, as his wildly flickering horn summons that infamous stick before my eyes, still prickling with tears of lust. “In the same hole y-you’re in! H-hurry!” It’d be a harsh fit, but we were still on the edge of the bed. Soon, my pulsating pussy was stuffed even fuller with two poles - the vein-thick one from Favor and the groove-thick one from Glim-Sham. Not the business end of the staff, though; I’m not suicidal. All the same; thanks again Pinkie, for letting me share the same ‘stretchy-body’ gene from ya.
I howl to the awesome feeling of my carnal canal stretching further. My pussy walls wrap and wrench around the towing extension, milking him. And Party Favor’s thrusts get more erratic, as his face turns feral. He wants to pump me full, ruin my figure, turn Double Diamond scarlet with realization every time he sees my swollen stomach. And I want him to. My legs lock around his as I lean down and whisper “F-fill me up, Favor,” as I meet his length on one last brutal thrust.
Favor makes it to my womb this time. Thirteen inches of throbbing maremeat swells to full capacity as it wedges around a soaked pole and the puckered cervix. Then the locked tip hoses out waves of cum into me. I twist my hips around this, wringing his length out in me, the feel of the staff around my lower lips sending shards of white dancing in front of my eyes. I push myself down further, forcing the cum to seep out around my well stuffed cunt.
Our fists land home in each other’s torsos, two planes of pale skin rippling around the force of our blows. His orgasm doubles in length - and due to it feeling like his length is splitting me in two from my re-stimulated nerves, I join him in it. Climax hits me like Holder’s Boulder, and I geyser out goo across his chest, my swelling silver belly keeping me from seeing how the spunk seeped around both tools.
After a minute, I look at Party Favor. The light blue of his skin is flush with salty sweat, and he is actually finished this time. I’m on Cloud Nine now, knowing I managed to outlast. The streak remains unbroken! It also meant, unfortunately, that I had to get Starlight’s snatch-strethcin rod out of me. With a lecherous running of hips and several blind grabs with my gloved hand, I managed the taskle, the waterfall of peral-white foal-batter from my loins making me shudder.
After I roll his dick out of my nethers, slurping at it greedily as if to take it home with me, I crawl up to his face on his left side - no way am I circling the bed with legs like noodles “You up?” I whisper. The slight nod of his head and his half-lidded eyes turning to me bring a smile to my face, molars flashing as I bring up the soaked staff to his sight. My tongue whips up, and I take a long lick, salty-sweetness hitting my tongue.
“I’ll be finding a way back here in six months. If you still think this town’s too good for me…” I stand on cramping legs with the slick Stick of Sameness twisting in my palm. “Come backstage then and give me a sign.” The lecherous smack it makes as I smack it against my firm glutes gets his jaw dropping and with my black lips curing in a grin, I toss the artifact at his spread legs, trotting out of the room.
My pants are a bit harder to get up, but my studded belt holds it all together. The starry sky of Our Town consoles my escape from any peeing eyes, though you’d have to be fuckin’ deaf as well to not hear my sex-slicked pussy lips squish against them. By the time I return to our tour carriage, I’m blowing kisses at the quickly lit-and-unlit windows at each side of this village.
Then my eyes widened at the giant bag of bits awaiting me, resting on the wheel of our cart. This would be enough for almost half the tour’s cost - and probably enough left over for Marble, too. “Who’s this from?” I lightly tapped the brown shoulder of Stellar. He awakes with a start, sleep dusted eyes flicking about to find me. The shaking of the bit-filled bag got him up though.
“Easy, Lime - Sugar Belle broke the bank. said she’ll give us more if we get that red stallion from Ponyville over here on-” His snout wrinkles as he took in the pungent air. Oh, goodie. “Wait, is that the-”
My hand shoots into the pegasus’ chin, keeping his head level with the road and not my well-paved loins. “We’re out to Rainbow Falls. Eyes front.”
“Sweet Tartarus, you better not have screwed somepony with money this time!” Stellar retorted.
“Unless lawyers take payment in inflatable poodles, no! Now let’s jet!” Stellar’s eyebrows rippled in confusion. Gonna need to be quick to move, Junebug’s a notoriously light sleeper.
“Or what?” Clearly, he wasn’t hard-up on leaving so early, especially with my packed body on the chaise. And the prices of the de-fertility draughts are still at ‘arm, leg, firstborn foal’ ranges. Time for the Poontang Pie Promise. And no, actually, you are not fuckin’ allowed to tell any of my sisters I patented that term.
“Look directly at me.” I deadpanned. He did, and right into my spunk-stuffed folds as I took my sweet-ass time easing onto the threshold of the carriage. “Second we’re out of this town, you can lick out as much as you can reach.” Incentive imposed.
In seconds, he was straining at the controls and Lime in the Sand’s ride was rolling out of the village at a speed I’d have to remember to taunt Dash with later. “No, of course that cold front’s moving in this evening,” my silvery sex-slick ass.
Stellar probably wouldn’t slurp it all out. And it’s not like I didn’t have a second go-round to bring out a triple. But enough to get my sweet abs to semi-visible status; that’d be enough. For now, I turned on my side, looked at Double Diamond and Junebug for a while, and… yeah, gonna have to do it away from them too. Cute as Diamond is, I need to hit him up for a new stereo.
Soon as we finish up in Rainbow Falls, Coloratura’ll take us on, and we can start making real money, hitting up real big crowds. And I… Well, I can finally start doing more for the Pie family than just shipping home enough bits to fend off the foreclosure signs.
Really, screw the Trenderhoofs of the world who claim exposure makes the entertainer - again, music is a long hard slog. The setup, the contract, the after-deals. And more often than not, it's a trip to the same shit-heeled scumbags you tried to join it to escape. But it’s all worth it for that hour of time when the stage is all yours and everypony in front you wants a piece of you - and on a few special occasions, get it.
….Oh, and the singing’s damn fun too.
