The chilled air blasting your face makes your heart race. The feeling of perspiration clings to your coat underneath your skin-tight uniform as it keeps the heat trapped in, enveloping your body in a constant state of sweat and ungodly warmth. Despite that, you continuously flap your wings and fight against the pony-made wind tunnel you're currently trapped in.
"We’re upping the dial, Rookie!" a voice rings out, barely audible but loud enough to make out it's from your teacher, Soarin.
You shift your eyes, and through foggy goggles you see the light blue lieutenant with clipboard in hoof, watching you with a big smile on his face. At his side stands another pegasus, her hoof resting on the large dial, ready to adjust it when needed. You focus on the second lieutenant and notice it's the Academy history teacher, Fleetfoot. Her eyes are covered with a pair of sharp edged light purple sunglasses that hides her equally purple pupils behind them. Her arctic blue coat nearly matches Soarin’s light blue coat and the only drawing exemptions between the two is their gender and the fact that Fleetfoot is sporting a light grayish tracksuit, emblazoned with her cutie mark.
As you shift your glance between the two, you give off a knowing smirk and wave at them for the go ahead to crank up the storm. Both acknowledge you and you face forward and prepare for the increase in wind intensity. You also notice at the corner of your eyes the dial is set to 12 and wonder if today will be the day you can triple your initial score.
Back when you first started your Wonderbolt training, you could barely muster flying against the wind tunnel at a meager 5, yet here you are, a few days before the end of your training, cruising at over double what you started at. The knowledge of it fills you with pride, but the feeling is short-lived as you notice Fleetfoot crank the dial to 13 and you instantly feel the huge shift in power.
You falter briefly, your wings buckling slightly as the wind pressure threatens to push you out. Your expression grits and you flap harder, your heart racing faster as your body and wings burn with fatigue, yet even as you try to stay steady, the constant torrent overcomes your ability to fight it. Slowly your body falls back and you begin to feel the wind start to overtake you, but before it can knock you on your ass and hurl you into a spiral, you bring a hoof up to your neck and signal a cutting motion to your teachers.
They instantly acknowledge it and Fleetfoot cuts the power to the wind tunnel. The large fan at the end of the tunnel slows down eventually and without accidentally launching yourself at the fan itself, you slow your pace down.
"Not bad, Rookie, you almost tied with Rumble for the highest number," Soarin chimes at you with a big grin, before he turns his attention to a nearby pegasus.
As you come to a hover and turn your attention to the star of the class, you see that light gray pony smuggly grinning a cheesy smile as a few of the mares in the group fawn over him with a fixation very reminiscent of a highschool mare dripping at the prospect of being next to Mr. Popular. You roll your eyes but don't care to dwell on simple facts like that; the fact you're almost on par with the younger brother of an actual Wonderbolt in the reserves is a reward in its own right.
"I'll hit that number eventually," you casually note as you glide towards the ground.
"And by the time you hit it, I'll be effortlessly flying at 15," Rumble smugly adds in, constantly switching his gaze between the two mares at his sides.
You just tut and roll your eyes again and you notice that Soarin does the same, before your teacher trots to your side.
"Just ignore him," Soarin says quietly as he closes the gap between you and him. "Unlike him, who came out of the initial trials with a score of 9, you've shown the most growth out of this group."
You smile sheepishly at the comment and suppress the urge to flutter your wings. Instead you quietly stare at the ground, your face slowly turning red in the process.
"You'll break that number tomorrow for sure, " Soarin assesses as he lifts a wing up and gently nudges you with it. "You’ve got the ability and the drive to succeed."
"Thanks, Teach, I appreciate the vote of confidence from you," you answer, thankful for the support he's been giving you since you first started the training.
Much to your surprise when you first entered the Academy, you half-expected it to be a standard, military-based training regiment. You were right for the most part, and some days the teachers—especially Captain Spitfire—would rip into you for little things and get right up in your face when provoked. You never took it to heart, knowing very well all they wanted was to push you to your limits, and even surpass them.
When they weren't yelling, they were surprisingly laid back for their profession. Even with Spitfire being the rule enforcer and the most seasoned Wonderbolt there was, you sometimes found you could have a relaxing conversation with her about anything. She was brash and upfront with her answers but it was how she presented her answers that made her appealing, especially when she got to rag on Soarin and Fleetfoot about past screw ups and show botches. On the thought of the other two, you start to think more about them.
Soarin was the speedster/joker of the group; that one very laid back stallion who you could shoot the shit with while downing a few beers at the bar. Easygoing and easy to please, but every time he complimented you for a job well done, you knew he meant it. Despite his carefree style, he was still a commanding officer who played by the book. If you wronged him in any way, you would end up brushing floors with toothbrushes and dusting the whole academy with your own wings as punishment.
Then there was Fleetfoot. At the corner of your vision you could see her tinkering with the wind machine, almost out of sight and out of mind. Even with her being a teacher, you only ever noticed her even in her history classes, or when you were running a drill and she would appear randomly to watch. She was quiet and usually stayed out of sight whenever she showed up. A wallflower of sorts; passively on the sidelines and only really spoke up when needed.
Getting a gauge on her personality was hard, considering she wasn't very talkative. Yet underneath that lithe and quiet frame of hers was a pony that knew what she was doing when it came to training or performances. She was more of an aerial tactician when it came to shows and what she lacked in speed or endurance, she made up for it in acrobatics and how aerodynamic she was.
"Alright, Rookies, that's all for the evening." Soarin steps away and addresses the nearby cadets. "Pack up, freshen up, and enjoy the rest of your downtime for the day. I'll see you all at 0600 hours."
Despite not being in a proper, formal line, you and your fellow cadets all salute the lieutenant before making your way towards the nearby academy building.
***
You quietly wait outside the unisex shower area and sit idly by on the wooden bench as you stare around to find something to distract your mind. All that greets your vision is white; the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling were all a pure white. The floor itself almost sparkles perfectly as you look down and easily make out your face in the tiles, a very pristine but grim reminder to not cross the teachers in any way. Duffle bags lay scattered on the wooden benches and a bunch of lockers are aimlessly left open with uniforms and personal effects sprawling out of them. It was a bit odd at first how easygoing your group was, but after training with them over a few weeks, you found yourself starting to open up to them more, to the point that most of you had made plans to hang out after the training was complete.
Despite how easygoing your group is, you find it hard to muster up the nerve to shower with the rest of your fellow cadets, especially the females. Sure there were areas that allowed you a bit of privacy in the form of open stalls, however showering in a group still felt awkward. You blame it on your highschool days where the jocks would rat-tail your flank in gym class and would constantly try to rope you into other trivial things. You never liked dealing with it, and always waited until the showers were empty, and though you were always late to your next class, you never changed.
The sound of the final shower turning off catches your attention, and you stare upward as the final pony from inside walks around the corner, Your eyes are greeted by a female pegasus with a shimmering chocolate-colored coat and a bright turquoise mane with curls braided at the ends. Around the back of her neck rests one of the Academy’s blue Wonderbolt towels, and you can’t help but notice hints of water dripping from her mane. Her name is Spur, and despite being a bit lankier than the other trainees, she wasn’t bad on the eyes at all. Cute face, soft smile, smoking hot body, and a well toned flank that you couldn’t help but stare at constantly, even when in flight drills.
“Showers are all yours, big guy,” she teases as she walks by and shoots you a cheeky grin.
You smile and chuckle, but don’t say anything, and instead you look away and feel your cheeks blush at her words. You feel like an awkward fool as she continues to walk, but not wanting to make it more awkward than it is, you spoke.
“Thanks, Spur,” you say quietly as you meekly look up and notice her looking back at you. “I’ll morning see you… I-I mean I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, big guy.” You get a giggle from her as she waves a wing at you.
You try to muster a chuckle back, but all you do is give her a cringey smile as you look to the floor with embarrassment. She didn’t say anything, but thankfully she looks more amused than annoyed with your antics, before she disappears out the door. Once she’s gone, you relax and let out a deep sigh as you slouch over, before you decide it’s best to not dwell on that socially awkward display. You stand up and make your way towards the showers.
As you round the corner, the showers come into focus. Multiple shower heads poke out from the wall on all corners, each with their own little stall allowing for privacy in some form, yet the lack of curtains is what truly puts you off from showering with the others. The fact that ponies could peek on each other was off-putting and worried you, and to make matters worse, you knew some ponies were very comfortable around each other.
You briefly recall a memory of walking into the showers and seeing two males getting it on with each other, and though they never saw you enter, you could never look at your fellow classmates the same way for a few days after that. You brush the memory aside and eye the area for any potential stragglers. Once you know it’s completely empty, you trot to a nearby shower stall that holds your body wash you forgot the previous night.
You step into the stall and stop once you are in reach of the knobs on the wall, you pause momentarily and look up at the shower head. A quick twist of the knob with your hoof, and an even quicker step back causes you to avoid getting sprayed by the cold water above. Thankfully it comes out mild as you feel the water splash at your hooves and flow to the drain below, before you step forward and try to make the water temperature a more comfortable setting.
Once you nail your preference, you step forward and sigh in relief as the hot water rains against your coat. You extend your fatigued wings to a comfortable distance, making sure you don't press them against the stall walls at your sides. Water continues to beat against them and all the pent up tension starts to ebb out and causes your wings to dip downwards.
You stretch out your neck as you contort it slightly to iron out a sore muscle. A small pop resounds from it as you feel the tension ease on your right shoulder before you relax and let the soothing, hot water soak into your aching bones. Once relaxed you peer over your shoulder one last time in order to make sure no one managed to sneak in while you weren't paying attention. Once you notice it's still bare, you let out a loud sigh and close your eyes in an effort to let it all sink in.
You sit there for a few seconds longer, casually enjoying the sound of water hitting both you and the tiled floor below, before your mind thinks of the other reason you enjoy showering alone. After all, it’s been a long day, and what better way is there to relax than by rubbing off a quickie.
You blame wearing the tight suit all day, and how it constantly rubs against your junk as you fly. Even worse is when the mares wear it, and how the suits almost perfectly outline every part of them. You’re usually not some sex-starved pervert, but your sexual instincts play on your mind harder than you can control sometimes. Not to mention you could notice the lack of sex was affecting some girls as well. They would shoot you passes and sometimes they would slow their trot down with the purpose of allowing you a bit of tempting eye candy in the form of slow sashaying hips or the alluring flick of a tail. You always looked, but you were too much of a nervous wreck to say or do anything, fearing it was some joke and you would get shot down instantly. Yet as time passed, you couldn’t help but notice a bit more desperation in their movements with how they trotted around a few males and how sexually starved everyone was becoming. You were honestly surprised you never walked into the showers and saw a group orgy taking place.
The thought of getting it on with a few mares sends a pang towards your lower region and a stiffening feeling you’ve been familiar with since puberty starts to hit you. Going with the feeling of it, you relax further and begin to imagine yourself flying behind one of the mares.
Your thoughts don't take long to pick a suitable candidate; that same chocolate colored mare from prior earns your attention. Your thoughts place her in her flight suit and you imagine her well defined body as the suit hugs her close, showing off every toned muscle she has. You imagine a small rip in the back of her suit, granting you view and access to her more intimate areas and the rip expands as she willingly spreads to her legs for your amusement.
You feel that stiffening feeling become more noticeable and you clench your thighs together as the tip of your cock starts to peek out from your sheathe. You keep your imagination going as you picture that flight suit hugging her body so tightly, you see the pucker of her butt and the tightness of her pussy outlined in the fabric. While your mind races, you gingerly bring up one of your forelegs and brush the side of your hoof against the growing mass.
The second it touches, you clench your thighs again, and it causes your hoof to brush more against the sensitive tip. You feel your erection hardening more and more as you continue to paw it, and within seconds you find yourself full mast and ready to rub one off.
The sound of the entrance door closing snaps you out of your reverie, and your body goes on full alert. The sound of falling water fills your ears, yet the clop of hooves against the ceramic tiles plays out louder. You hear the ginger and delicate pace of the unwanted visitor walking deeper into the locker room, and your mind instantly realizes that delicate, light step to be from a mare. You tense up and stare wide eyed at the entrance to the shower area, unmoving and unsure of what to do.
You were the last trainee. You remembered all the faces of your fellow classmates had already entered and exited the area. The fact that there was someone else now in the area caught you off-guard and your once sexually driven mind starts to try and recall if you missed any faces. As the sound of the mystery pony starts to get closer to your area, you swallow back the anxiety in your throat and dip your wings down in a vain attempt to cover yourself up. You vividly remember everyone else had already come and gone and your puzzled mind suddenly realizes that the only ponies that hadn’t entered were…
A blue mare rounds the corner, a casual yet somber look in her magenta eyes, along with a tired expression on her face. You instantly notice her blasted back white mane and a pure white towel resting against the back of her neck as she turns the corner.
It’s Fleetfoot, and as she finishes turning the corner, she stops and looks up at you with a blank expression, before she flashes you a smug smile. You don’t react and instead stare as you noticed she’s still wearing her tracksuit from earlier and you instantly start to wonder why she was in the trainee locker area.
“Seems I came in at a bad time,” she proclaims casually, her voice a mix of tomboyish spunk and laid back authority that almost reminds you of Soarin.
You blink and say nothing, until you notice the direction of her eyes. They are looking at you, before you quickly notice they are slanted downward slightly and staring at your undercarriage.
You tense further and snap your head forward. Your face flushes a crimson red and you instantly wish you had a bucket of ice to dip your rock hard erection in to make it go away.
You hear a giggle from her, and that same awkward feeling you had with Spur is starting to return. Being awkward around fellow candidates is one thing, but you’d rather not look like a bumbling idiot in front of the teachers, especially the quieter one.
“Sorry I… didn’t think the staff used the showers,” you squeak out, the words not quite the way you want to say them, but spilling out regardless.
You glance back and catch the tail end of her rolling her eyes before she gives you a soft smile.
“We got our own locker room with showers and whatnot... but the hot water tanks for that area of the building are acting up,” she starts as she walks in and takes the stall right beside yours. “Wasn’t really too keen on showering with the trainees, since rules kinda don’t approve of it, but with the situation as it is, Spitfire gave me the go ahead to use the showers here.”
“Oh,” you reply quietly as you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Part of you wanted to ask her to move a bit further down, since you were fully hard and ready for a rub, but the question never leaves your mouth, in fear you would offend her in some way. The fact that she took the stall right beside you irks you more and you wonder if she actually did notice your erection in the first place, or if she was just staring at your dipped wings instead. You wanted to ask, but you had no idea how to word an awkward question like that, and instead you just stay silent and refuse to move a muscle.
A soft sigh of relief quickly follows and a few seconds awkwardly pass as you hear Fleetfoot fumble with the suit, before you notice her toss it into the air and see it hook on the top of the stall.
The sound of a knob turning greets your ears next and another stream of water hisses to life, before you hear a stuttered gasp that transitions into a relaxed sigh.
“That hits the spot,” she mutters loud enough for you to hear.
You don’t react and continue to sit there, frozen with fear while your erection seems too intent on staying hard. Even as you stare at the wall, your mind continues to race with images of Spur in many different lewd positions, yet the images slowly contort and they are replaced with images of Fleetfoot instead. You wish your perverted mind would cease and desist, and in a last ditch effort you reach up and crank the hot water knob to max.
You instead grab the cold water knob and are instantly blasted by an icy stream.
“S-shit!” you stammer out as you quickly reach up and try to adjust the knobs, only to take a small step forward and nearly trip over your own front hooves, thanks to a patch of someone's body wash on the ground. You extend your wings out and press them against the metal stall walls at both your sides, and regain your footing.
“You okay in there, Rookie?” Fleetfoot speaks up, much to your annoyance.
“S-sorry,” you reply nervously as your mind quickly tries to figure out what to say. “Slippery when wet, you know?”
You get an unamused tut from her in response and you can only imagine as she’s wondering why she’s in the same shower area with an awkward stallion like you.
“You know you don’t have to be nervous around me right?” she replies, much to your surprise. “We’re just two ponies taking showers in separate stalls at the end of a hard work day.”
“S-sorry, I’m just… used to showering when nopony is around,” you answer back as the water becomes the proper temperature again.
“Don’t apologize, I kinda intruded on you at an awkward time anyway.”
Awkward was an understatement, and a twitch from your still hard erection solidifies that.
“I’ll be quick though. I wanted to wash up quickly before I started to grade everypony’s test from today,” she tells you as you hear the sound of a bottle of shampoo being popped open. “Gimme like two minutes and I’ll be out of your mane.”
Suddenly you feel bad and realize she’s rushing to wash up and be gone on your behalf.
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to inconvenience you,” you reply as you turn your face up to the falling stream of water.
You hear another giggle from her. “That’s sweet of you to think that you’re an inconvenience to me, but it’s kinda the other way around.” You hear the sound of a bottle squirting. “I should be apologizing to you.”
You blush at the notion and say nothing more.
“Hey Rookie, I got a favor to ask you,” she says suddenly.
“Go ahead,” you reply.
“I know I said I would be out of your mane in like two minutes, but I was kinda hoping you could help me with something first.”
“What do you need?” you ask as you stare at the metal wall.
“You know how it’s a pain to wash that one little area between your wings, right?”
Your wings twitch at the mention and you instantly know what she is talking about. It was that area where the wings first spurt from your back and you could never properly wash it without a back scrubber. Unlucky for you, yours is currently in your locker bag.
“You mean where the wings and your back meet?” you ask to make sure you two are on the same wavelength.
“Yeah, that area! I was wondering if you could help me wash it quickly. I kinda forgot to grab my back scrubber in the staff showers.”
You stay silent for the moment and realize that if she actually saw you sporting an erection, she wouldn’t ask that in the first place. Maybe she did see it, and maybe you were being strung along for her own amusement, but something tells you in the back of your mind she was oblivious to it and just wants a hoof.
It didn’t change the fact that you still had a hard-on, and you weren’t too keen on walking into the same shower with a mare while sporting one. You had no idea how she would react, yet at the same time you didn’t want to turn her simple request away. It was either be an awkward fool and do nothing, or step up and stop being a nervous wreck.
“Y-yeah, sure, I’ll lend you a hoof,” you reply, much to your own surprise as you tense up and instantly regret your words.
“Thanks Rookie, I appreciate it. Come join me on my side.”
You swallow back and feel your anxiety spike. Despite the regret in your words, you know it would look very bad if you bailed out now. Instead you take a deep breath and try to relax as you begin to turn around and crane your neck around the stall to peer into the next.
As you do, you are greeted by the backside of the light blue pegasus. Her haunches rest against the tiles and you see soapy suds in both her front hooves and her mane as she scrubs away. As if feeling your gaze upon her, she looks over her shoulder and flashes you a smile, before she scoots to the side, allowing you more room to enter. You blush and look away briefly, unsure of how to properly react with the rollercoaster of emotions your mind is going through.
You pause for a second as she turns away and looks up at the showerhead, and using that moment, you slip in behind her while keeping your wings dipped at your sides. The cascading water from above greets you, and you tense briefly as you realize it's on full blast with the heat.
"Damn, that's hot," you note out loud as you edge back and forth, trying to get used to the heat.
"Didn't realize you found me attractive," she teases without looking back at you, causing you to grow extremely flustered at your lack of proper wording for the situation.
"I-I didn't mean you’re hot... w-wait, you're actually really attractive, I-I just meant that the water was super hot," you reply, the words spilling out like verbal diarrhea as you fidget in place.
Your antics earn you another giggle as Fleetfoot brings one of her soapy hooves to her face to try and stifle it.
“You’re actually kinda cute when you’re nervous like that,” she replies, regaining her tomboyish composure before she pushes a bottle of body wash towards you.
You say nothing and smile sheepishly at her as you edge closer to her. The scent of cedarwood and rose oil fills your nostrils; an oddly relaxing scent that places your troubled mind at ease and you quickly realize it’s coming from her shampoo.
You look to her bubbled mane and watch the suds run down her face and hit the floor below. The suds dissolve as they get drawn into the drain, and as more of it leaves her head, you are greeted by a flattened white mane that dips randomly in places. Once the last of the suds are gone, Fleetfoot gives her head a shake and inadvertently fans the soothing scent towards you.
As it puts you more at ease, you can’t help but notice her body more and how the shimmer from the water seems to reflect her well defined muscles. Saying she was attractive was an understatement, considering you only ever saw her with her tracksuit on, and now that she was wearing nothing, your mind was able to fill in the blanks of her body you could only speculate before.
She looked firm, taut, and though her wings were closed, you could see the bulk of her training was focused on those same wings. She was like a smaller and more flexible Spitfire in terms of body, and now that you are looking more closely at her, you realize how much eye candy she is to your perverted mind.
You gulp down the air in your throat and look at the bottle of body wash on the ground, before you notice the label on it. It’s a small picture of a pine tree resting near a crystal clear lake, and as you grab it and bring it up to your nose, you sniff it and get a strong whiff of something eerily similar to a soothing ocean breeze.
Not wasting any more time, you grab the bottle with your teeth and hover the tip of it over one of your hooves. You gently squeeze it, and a soft ‘pft’ sounds out before a viscous, white gel comes out and coats your hoof. The scent gets stronger momentarily as you put the bottle back down and begin to pull yourself up.
Once up, you eye the area between her wings with a nervous look as you notice she relaxes and dips her wings down, almost similar to how yours currently are. You watch her pristine wings flutter briefly as the scathing hot water beats against them, before you try to relax and bring your hoof up.
You sit on your haunches, doing your best to avoid accidentally making your erection visible to her potentially wandering eye, before you clap your hooves together and slather them up. Once set, you bring up your shaky hooves and hover them over her back, before you take in her lithe and delicate frame again, and gently plant your hooves between her wings.
You get a soft sigh from Fleetfoot and feel no resistance or tension from her and you begin to stroke her back. Honestly surprised at how forthcoming she is with letting you touch her, you relax and your mind gets put at ease.
“Would you like me to wash your full back?” you ask as you gently scrub into her soft yet grimy coat.
“I would appreciate that actually,” she hums contentedly as her eyes flutter closed. “Could you also be a dear and scrub my wings as well?”
“Sure,” you meekly reply, further surprised as less and less bodily restrictions become apparent.
For a few minutes you sit there quietly and scrub her down. Having that unhindered access allows you to truly sculpt her body and gauge just how fit she really is. You feel the ripple of her muscles dance across your hooves and every time you seem to rub against a firm spot in her back, you are welcomed with a soft sigh of approval. Despite the welcome gesture, you try to not rub one area too long, in fear that she gets the idea you’re feeling her up for your own perverted amusement. All the while as you scrub away, your erection still remains dominant in its hardened state. The fact that you’re rubbing down a gorgeous mare like Fleetfoot doesn’t make it any less hard, in both senses.
“Gotta say you know how to rub a girl down, Rookie,” Fleetfoot speaks up, her body and voice fully relaxed, while her eyes remain closed. “Do you give your marefriends massages like this back home?”
“Oh umm… I don’t have any close friends like that,” you mutter back.
“That’s a shame, because you’re hitting all the right spots right now,” she replies back as you notice her left wing starting to raise up. “With how good you are with your hooves, I’m almost scared to let you touch my wings.”
“It’s a… talent I guess,” you reply, hoping you don’t come across too corny.
“I’m very thankful I got to enjoy this special talent of yours,” she tells you as she looks over her shoulder and you pull your wings closer to your body.
The way she starts talking to you brings many questions to your mind. Her voice is low, almost riddled with an alluring temptation that reminds you of how the other mares were acting for your attention. It almost feels like you’re being tested as things progress, and you hope that your overly worried mind is just being paranoid.
Suddenly she turns her body sideways, and her rear now faces your front. You tense up briefly as you worry she’ll accidentally hit your erection with her back legs, but what worries you more is your eyes as they catch a glimpse of pink beneath her tail. The sight of it causes a spasm down below in your loins and your wings to flutter nervously at your side as you push back the feeling of flaring them open. Last thing you need the teacher to see is some red-faced rookie sporting a wing boner that would be almost as hard as your actual boner. You mentally fight yourself as you look away and focus as her wings come up more and stretch out before you.
Then it hits you, or rather, her tail swishes randomly and the bulk of it brushes against your cock. You tense up and your nervous expression turns into a cringe and it only gets worse as Fleetfoot peers over her shoulder and flashes you a knowing smirk.
“I-I’m sorry! It’s not what it looks like!” you stammer out as you scoot back to try and distance yourself from her tail.
“Don’t worry about it,” she giggles, swishing her tail even more. “I saw it when I first walked in anyway.”
You go quiet, and the realization that she was content with you washing her down with a rigid erection floods your mind.
“I wanted to help you relax and get rid of it by letting you rub me down so you felt less nervous,” she tells you as she turns around and you quickly cover yourself as best you can. “Seems my approach only made it worse.”
“I-it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been playing with… myself in the showers,” you meekly spurt out as you can’t even look up at her face.
“Don’t be silly; you train all day and even when it’s curfew, you’re sleeping in a bunk room full of our ponies,” she starts as she sits in place. “This is like the only place you can get proper alone time for yourself.”
She brings a hoof to your chin and gently pulls you up to look at her expression. Much to your surprise her eyes stare intently at your hardened mass.
“If anything I should be the one to blame,” she says, her expression turning into a somber frown. “Naturally, I think I should fix this problem.” Her frown turns into a soft smile.
You go silent and your eyes go wide as you stare at her blankly. You blink several times and her smile grows bigger into a wide grin as she gives off a giggle.
"A-are you sure about this?" you ask nervously, your back legs shake as you squeeze them together.
"Oh?" Her head tilts back a bit and yet her eyes go half lidded. "Are you not interested?"
"W-well yes I am... b-but isn't this against the rules?" you reply.
"And? It's not like anypony will see us." She presses closer as her hoof comes up and rests gently against your chest fluff. "Plus I think it's only fair to give the 'most improved flyer' a proper... reward."
"Most improved?" you echo her words, your wings slowly becoming stiff as they start to flare upward.
"Of course. Soarin said it himself that you've shown the most improvement out of all the rookies here." Her hoof slides up your chest fluff briefly before it rests on your shoulder. “We have ‘formal’ rewards for that, but I think it’s only fair to give you something to really remember.”
You can only smile at her words and feel a greater sense of pride. You feel a boost of confidence in yourself as your eyes turn briefly upward and look to the other empty showers. She’s right. No one will know and you know if you turn her away, you’ll regret that decision for the rest of your life.
You ease up and relax slightly, yet when you do, Fleetfoot pushes you upward. The sudden movement surprises you, and before you can regain your balance, your back gently thuds against the stall wall. You try to lean forward, but it proves futile as Fleetfoot has risen to her hindlegs as well and her nose is only a few inches from touching yours. She’s still sporting that grin and her bedroom eyes stare at your wide pupils briefly, before she starts to go back down to all fours. Despite the excitement you feel in your body and the wobbling in your hindlegs, you stay standing up. Your heart starts to race as Fleetfoot stares down your rigid erection with hungry eyes as she starts to reach her hoof out but stops just before she makes contact with it.
“Shame I already washed my mane,” she starts, and you notice a subtle lick of her lips as she opens her right wing and flexes it inward towards you. “I would’ve loved for you to rub my mane while I gave you a blowjob.”
You swallow back a large lump in your throat as you watch her feathers stretch out and get ready to touch you. Her wing twists slightly and you let out a stuttered sigh as the soft yet wet down of her feathers caresses the underside of your shaft. It twitches at the touch and you can’t help but clench your butt and stick your hips more out. You haven’t been touched by a female like that in a long time, and your erection gives off a rather violent spasm as her feathers continue to trail down your shaft and brush gently against your big stallion nuts. The sensation feels godly, yet it’s only a meager feeling when you look down and watch Fleetfoot lean her head forward and give the tip of your erection a quick lick.
You grit your teeth and suck in air through your mouth as her firm yet coarse tongue presses against you. She doesn’t pull away and you can’t help but stare in awe as she keeps her tongue in place and stares up at you with her beautiful eyes. Despite having her mouth fully open, you can’t help but still notice that undying smirk of hers staying trained on you, before you feel the feathers at your nuts start to shift again. They travel back up your shaft, and you feel her wing push your erection down slightly, allowing the tip to be level with her mouth. Her feathers begin to wrap gently against your shaft, while her mouth moves forward and her soft lips wrap around the head of your erection. You buck forward in response and cease up, afraid to hurt her in some way. Instead she acknowledges the movement and dips her head forward, taking more of your cock in her muzzle. You get a soft moan from her, the feeling of it vibrates against your shaft as she starts to gingerly and repeatedly lick at you.
Her tongue travels in circles around the flare of your erection. It’s a slow yet eager pace as her wing starts to move as well. You feel the down of her feathers grip you gently as they began to gently stroke your erection in tune with her bobs. Her feathers stay below your medial ring, gently stroking the hilt while her mouth pushes more and more on your tip. You love it, you can’t deny that sweet sensation in the slightest as you feel your erection swelling with life as it gently throbs and ebbs in her mouth.
She takes more, and as she pushes her muzzle forward, you feel the tip of your erection meet the back of her throat. She pauses momentarily, and twiddles her feathers like a griffon would twiddle its talon at its prey. Never once does she take her eyes off you, her medusa-like gaze metaphorically turning your body to stone as she continues to please you.
What surprises you is how well she is able to work your erection with her wing. It’s a firm, but soft grip that almost feels non-existent as she rubs away. Almost like being stroked off by the air itself, she occasionally tightens her grip and swivels the feathers in tune with her bobs, twisting and turning both mouth and wing in unison to deliver a sweet sensation that almost feels like she’s sucking off your whole shaft.
“Are you enjoying this?" she asks, pulling away for a moment.
You don't get a chance to even mutter a response before she lifts your cock upward and the tip of her muzzle brushes against the underside of your erection as it travels downward. She quickly comes to your nuts, and without any warning, she gives both sets of balls a small, worshipful kiss between the two before grabbing one of your balls in her teeth and playing with it. You tense slightly at the feeling of it, but it's only a second later that she wraps her lips around it and moans softly into it.
You feel a surge from within your swelling erection and a bit of precum shoots out as you close your eyes and sigh deeply. Your face feels heavy and you feel that burning feeling in your cheeks as you pant. Your heart continues to race and your wings that you didn't want to flare earlier are now fully erect and sprawling outwards. They vibrate and stay unresponsive as you try to close them, yet the feeling in your loins below draws your attention away from them.
"This feels so good," you pant as you lift your hooves up and brush them against her mane.
You open your eyes just in time to see her smiling at you with your nut in her mouth, before she takes her lips off the glistening bit and moves her face back to the head of your erection. Much to your surprise you see her second wing flex at her side, before she cranes it open and places the feather of it against your balls. The extra addition spikes your sex drive up exceptionally as both wings and her mouth work you over in perfect unison.
It’s so intense that the feeling of feathers massaging your nuts and the softness of her other feathers around the lower part of your shaft drives you wild. She effortlessly works it like it was almost second nature to her, and the feeling of her warm mouth and tongue constantly barraging the head of your erection makes you enjoy it so much more.
You’re getting close, and you feel like you’ll explode at a moment’s notice.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m about to cum...” you start, but your voice trails off as you fail to resist the urge to clench your butt and buck your hips slightly.
She catches on quickly, and her three way motions become faster and surprisingly smoother. She moans eagerly into your cock, urging you on to finish up as you feel her lips tighten more around your erection. Part of you wonders if she means to swallow, but the thought fades away as you feel everything starting to swell up. Your teeth grit harder and your eyes clench closed tightly as you feel yourself being pushed to an inescapable edge, and in a last ditch effort to inform Fleetfoot it’s coming, you let out a grunt and tap the side of her head.
She acknowledges your warning and without hesitation, the wing on your shaft starts to stroke the full length. Her mouth comes off with a pop, alerting you to open your eyes and stare below. Your vision is greeted by the crimson face of a lust-starved mare who’s ready to take a load to the face. Her mouth stays open and you watch her eyes start to close as her wing vigorously strokes you senseless.
It’s too much, and as you give off one last grunt, you feel the feathers at your balls suddenly tighten, before your orgasm arrives. The first strand ejects with enough force, it wiz’s by Fleetfoot’s face and nails the steel barrier behind her, before you feel the next few waves start to pulse out. With each spurt, you cake her whole face with thick stallion spunk while she moans in delight. After a few long seconds of cumming, you feel her wing start to come to a halt, and once she stops, you stare down at her cum soaked face with awe.
Lots of your spunk hit its mark. A single strand covers her closed left eye and a fair amount of it rests against her mane, almost blending into it. Two strands have landed in her mouth and you watch her eagerly lick her lips and swallow back the small amount you managed to score inside. The rest of it is haphazardly spread across her cheeks, and you even somehow managed to aim a strand at her chest fluff below. As you feel the tail end of your orgasm start to hit you, you just smile at your handy work.
“You were more pent up than I thought,” she says with a sly smile as the water from the shower head above starts to wash away the mess.
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly as you start to remember that you just got sucked off by one of your superior officers. “I haven’t… I mean… I thank you for that uhh, reward.”
“It was my pleasure, Rookie,” she chuckles at you while her feathers twiddle playfully at your deflating erection.
You continue to pant softly as you slowly catch your breath. As you do, Fleetfoot closes her wings and stands up, and you take a deep breath in and sink to the ground. You stay leaned against the wall as the last bit of life from your dying erection leaves you before it quickly returns to its sheath. Your wings quickly follow, and those once-rigid wingboners you had are now able to be flexed and closed back comfortably at your sides.
Once your body calms down, you refocus on Fleetfoot and, much to your surprise, she’s back to casually washing her face, almost like nothing happened between the two of you. You would get up and leave, until you realize that she generously got you off without her asking for a return favor. For a moment your sex driven mind debates asking her if she would like to get off, and as you start to open your mouth the sound of the locker room door closing greets both your ears.
“Aww, seems we got company,” Fleetfoot pouts quietly as she looks to you with a sullen look on her face. “I forgot Soarin still needed to shower up.”
“Oh, I… guess I can’t… you know,” you start to say but can’t help but blush at the thought of attempting to ask her if you can mount her.
“Good to know you still got some pep left in you, Rookie,” she stays with a growing smile as she flicks her tail at you. “Tell you what: continue to improve for the rest of the week and we’ll go out with a proper bang after your finals.”
“You mean it!?” Your eyes twinkle with life as you can barely contain your voice.
“Of course I do.” She chuckles as she finishes washing her face and turns off the water, before starting to dry herself off with her nearby towel. “I trust you’ll have enough in you for a lengthy session by that time though.”
“O-of course!” you reply excitedly as you recompose yourself. “I… thank you once again, ma’am.”
“You don’t have to be so formal me,” she giggles as she closes one eye and sticks her tongue out at you. “Wonderbolts always look out for each other, both future and current ones.”
Fleetfoot stops as she hears Soarin start to walk in the direction of you two. For a second she stays quiet, until she leans into your face and starts to whisper again...
“Besides, I’m looking forward to getting stuffed to the brim next time.”
Author's Note
Fleetfoot needs more love.
