It was a boring day, and as usual, Scootaloo and Rumble were lying on a cloud doing nothing. There wasn't much else you could do when the day was this boring.
"What do you wanna do?" Scootaloo asked. She was on her back, lounged out with her head hanging just over the edge of the cloud, kicking her legs idly up and down in an arbitrary gymnastic pattern.
Rumble was planted at the small cloud's opposite end, lying down on his stomach, his face smooshed into a lump of clouds as a makeshift pillow. A troublesome wisp of his mane would occasionally drape itself across his face, prompting him to either pucker his mouth and blow it aside or, if he had the energy, to push it out of the way with a hoof.
"I dunno," Rumble answered. "What do you wanna do?"
"Hey!" Scootaloo didn't raise sit up or raise her head, but still managed to glare in Rumble's general direction. "I thought we had a rule about asking that more than once."
"I don't remember that rule," Rumble said, grinning. "I think I'd remember something like that."
"I'd get up and punch you if I wasn't too bored to move," Scootaloo said. She raised a hoof and swatted vaguely in Rumble's direction.
Rumble smirked back at her and stuck out his tongue.
"You're just jealous I got the comfy part of the cloud."
"The entire cloud is the comfy part of the cloud, idiot!"
"Pfft. Whatever."
Something needed to happen soon, in short order, or the universe might collapse from sheer ennui.
"Hey." Scootaloo sat up, propping herself up with her forelegs behind her back. "Do you wanna go see if Rainbow Dash wants to hang out?"
Rumble rolled his eyes without bothering to turn his face in Scootaloo's direction.
"No. All you ever wanna do is go hang out with Rainbow Dash. It's like you wanna marry her or something."
"Do not!"
"Oh really?"
Scootaloo stuck out her tongue.
"Really! I don't wanna marry her. Maybe some sort of open polycule would be nice though..."
"Whatever. I guess I'm down. Anything is more interesting than lying here."
"You say that like you haven't been doing it for two hours straight."
Rumble shrugged.
"Some days, you just can't get away from a boredom."
Little bits of white fluff flecked off the edges of the cloud as Rumble flapped his wings and began to hover. Wings still moving, he lowered himself back to the cloud and knelt down in front of Scootaloo, facing away, giving her ample invitation to hop up onto his back.
Even though he couldn't see her, Rumble knew Scootaloo must blushing. She always did.
"Thanks," Scootaloo said, her voice oddly quiet. Rumble's feathers rustled under her chin when she leaned forward to balance her weight, and she suppressed a giggle while she clung around with both hooves.
Rumble lifted himself with a small grunt. Scootaloo wasn't all that heavy, but having even a miniature pony's body weight added to his own made flying that much more complicated. After a few seconds, he'd accounted for the passenger displacement, just in time to notice Scootaloo nuzzling her face into his feathers. Probably hoping he wouldn't notice.
"Scoots," he said. "Everything okay back there?"
The sensation of a tiny orange snout rubbing the back of his neck disappeared suddenly. He could practically feel the blush radiating off Scootaloo's face.
"Um, yeah. Sorry. I was just... having trouble getting comfortable."
"But you're good to go now?"
"Uh-huh." Scootaloo gave Rumble's either size a squeeze with her hooves. "Ready when you are."
"Alright. Let's see what your girlfriend is up to..."
"Hey!"
Rumble and Scootaloo waited for several minutes after knocking at the door of Rainbow Dash's Cloudsale apartment. If either of them had cared to wear a watch, they would have checked it periodically. Rumble pretended just the same, adding extra exaggerated yawns each time he looked down at the invisible hands on his wrist suggesting they were only there wasting their time.
"I know Rainbow Dash is usually home at this time of day," Scootaloo said. She wasn't about to let a dose of facts disturb her carefully coveted private reality. "Maybe she's just busy with something and didn't hear us knock?"
"Even when I yelled 'Hey, Rainbow Dash, let us in! Your filly-friend—I mean, Scootaloo wants to say hi!'?"
"Well, you didn't yell it that loud..."
Rumble rolled his eyes and stood up from where he'd been sitting on Rainbow's front step. As far he was concerned, the rest of the evening was on a single destination doomed collision with infinite boredom.
"Let's go look in the windows. Maybe if she sees us waving she'll let us in."
"Through the window?"
Scootaloo shrugged.
"Or the door. Whichever."
"I dunno Scoots..."
Scootaloo got close to Rumble, so close he could practically feel the warmth of her breath against his lips, so close their noses were almost touching together, separated by maybe just an atom.
"Uh," Rumble said.
"Come on," Scootaloo said. Whether or not she knew it, there was a subtle, desperate fire alight in her eyes—one usually reserved for the turning of the seasons, and more private places, with much less light. "We'll just take a peek. If she's not home, we can go. Deal?"
Rumble swallowed, seemingly loudly to himself. Did swallowing your own saliva always make that much noise? Maybe it was hot all sudden, he felt hot...
"Uh, yeah." Rumble said. The sun was bright today, after all. A highly logical explanation for the sudden activity of his sweat glands. "Sounds good... I mean, deal."
Scootaloo pulled away in an instant, and like that, the closeness between them vanished. However...
It was still necessary for Scootaloo to hop up on Rumble's back in order to fly high enough to see through most of the windows. Her body felt just a little warmer against Rumble's feathers this time, and his feathers just a little more sensitive.
"Here we go," he said, and took off.
"Living room... nothing," Scootaloo reported from her vantage point. She'd wrapped her forelegs around Rumble's chest, and was moving one of her hooves idly up and down along his chest fur, as though she was hardly aware of herself doing it.
Again, Rumble swallowed, clearing his throat this time for after-effect. "Right," he said. "Where next?"
"Uh, if she's in the bathroom, we can wait... maybe she's putting laundry away in her bedroom?"
"Which one's that?"
"This way, at the top right..."
"Oh, right, okay. Got it, got it."
Rumble and Scootaloo drifted up together until they could see through the square of glass into Rainbow's bedroom.
"Yes, I knew it!"
Mid-celebration for herself, Scootaloo's eyes widened, as though suddenly taking in the entire picture before them in the snap of a photo flash.
"Oh," she said.
"What's my brother doing there?" Rumble asked. "Are they... wrestling?"
They were not wrestling.
Scootaloo felt like she'd seen a replica of this scene somewhere else once before... maybe even a few times, it was hard to recall, exactly. It wasn't anything particular about the details, not the position they were in, the sight or sound of it all. Just... something about the way it felt. A hushed feeling that was in your chest and in your bones. It made Scootaloo's voice cling up and stick inside her chest, as though the thought of saying anything in a voice higher than a whisper would cause her to combust spontaneously.
"Um," she said experimentally, testing the air with a quiet tone. "I don't think so. I think they're..."
Oh, what was that word she'd overheard once? Flitter and Cloudchaser were in a conversation passing by, she hadn't even meant to eavesdrop on them, but the snippets that drifted out were too interesting to ignore, like a secret language she was meant never to hear. It started with a 'b'... 'b', 'b'...
"Boinking?" Scootaloo said hesitantly, testing the unfamiliar word in her mouth as though it was from a foreign language. Even as she said it, remembering the conversation exactly, it still didn't sound right. Me and Stiff Breeze were boinking all night, I can barely fly straight... Somehow, it all just fit into the same little puzzle box of terminology, didn't it? Maybe there was a reason for all of the words sounding so stupid. The back of Scootaloo's brain had a dictionary full of them she was anxious to test out.
Rumble's look said he didn't seem to think the word sounded any more appropriate than she did—but also that he seemed to have heard it before, at least once, from the mouth of an older pony. An older pony thing, that older ponies did.
That would explain most of the scene in front of them. Everything except...
"Why is Thunderlane's, uh... why is his..." Scootaloo stumbled over the word in her head, despite the health lesson they'd all endured at the start of the semester, every pony cringing with their face planted against their desk when the awkward subject matter crossed their personal threshold into unbearability. Come on. You can say it. It's just a word after all. "Why is Thunderlane's... why is his, uh, pee-pee... why is it all, uh, big? Like that. Um. It's like, really big..."
Rumble caught himself with his hooves covering between his legs without even realizing he'd moved them there. Even worse, he could feel his own cheeks finally starting to redden. There was no resistance against topics of the taboo, and Scootaloo had said... well, he actually happened to know the reason for that, he'd asked his brother, and...
He cleared his throat, finding it impossible to completely dislodge the froggy gunk that had solidified itself there. He did his best with his voice half-cracking anyway.
"When stallions—I mean, when guy ponies, or just, uh, anypony with a, uh, a dick... anyway, when they get, like, turned on, uh... when they wanna have, uh, sex, like, you know, we learned about that one time in class, they uh, their... their, uh, dicks, get really—
"Oh, right!" Scootaloo's eyes lit up as the fact popped back into her head. "Yeah, they get all big and hard so he can shove it inside the mare's... her cooter, right?"
Rumble felt himself shiver. That was a word they'd both heard on the playground before, it was a relatively well-known synonym for a much more clinical sounding word they'd learned in Miss Cheerilee's class.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. It was just from the sun, right?
"Right," he said. He shifted and squeezed his hind legs together as best he could to prevent drawing attention to why he was doing it in the first place. "That's... I remember that too."
"Wow," Scootaloo said.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
It seemed to Rumble, in the absence of sound coming from either of them, there were many more sensations suddenly willing to direct your focus—and the majority of those, if a cute orange flightless pegasus filly happened to be riding on your back, were remarkably effective reminders of the few times Rumble had woken up early before school with his 'pee-pee'—his brother had told him to call it a 'dick', after a few questions—rock hard, so hard it almost hurt. That was when his brother had let him borrow one of his 'mags', with the glossy print that folded out in the middle and the bunches of pages stuck together... Be careful with that, Thunderlane had said. I only have three issues with Cumulus Candyfloss as the centerfold.
Rainbow Dash was dead center in her bed, certainly, and one part of her seemed to be folded over the other... did that have anything to do with it, or was he just imagining things?
"So Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane are... boinking," Rumble said, in much the same tone as he might discuss the weather.
"Looks like it," Scootaloo said. She was starting to sweat too. Were all of these feathers necessary? One of them kept tickling her chin, and in a way that felt much more insistent of attention than any normal tickles she'd gotten before. Rumble felt hot, and she could recall older ponies using synonyms for that word a few times.
"Do you, uh," Rumble said. He paused for a few seconds, staring awkwardly at the air. "Do you—"
"Yeah. Do you—"
"Uh huh."
The two of them looked into each others eyes. It felt a bit like staring into the sun from either direction—neither of them could do it for too long, and both blushed and stared away when they got too nervous.
Still. They'd both said 'yes', hadn't they?
Rumble felt like he ought to take the initiative.
"Where do you think we should, uh..."
"Oh." Scootaloo held a hoof to her mouth, her face reaching the brightest shade of red so far yet today. "Right, I hadn't thought about... yeah, I mean, I guess we can't just, like, do it on the cloud next to Rainbow Dash's apartment, or something, huh?"
"Nnnngh."
Rumble groaned and crossed his legs even harder. The feeling of friction made him groan again. There seemed to be no escape in either direction.
"I mean," he said, voice strained, but not struggling full-on "we probably, uh... probably shouldn't. But it was a nice idea..."
"What about one of the groves out of town, just near the Everfree?"
"Isn't that kind of far away?"
"Yeah, I guess... I was just thinking of where nopony might bump into us."
"Yeah..."
A few more moments passed.
It seemed to occur gradually to both Rumble and Scootaloo that, while the two of them might have been practicing perfect silence, there were a few persistent sounds escaping from Rainbow's apartment, apparently not sound-proof in any capacity.
Most of it was just that: noises. Not any Rumble or Scootaloo were used to hearing. But the way a word you knew was naughty could creep into your head and make the air feel electric just by saying it, so did the moans and groans harmonizing through Dash's window. One half drunken-sounding desperation and begging, the other impassioned grunts and furious barbaric slamming, a kind of rhythm that rocked the bed underneath them. Scootaloo and Rumble both found themselves staring, and neither could look away for a few minutes, transfixed on the two ponies 'boinking' in front of them—how their bodies seemed to fit together in so many different positions; how their 'special places' were in constant contact; and how, from the look of it, both of them were having one of the best times either pony had ever imagined. It was a look on their faces barely beyond translation, but that still came back mostly as 'this is absolutely amazing'.
"My parents are working late today," Rumble said suddenly. Hot, and starting to hurt, a little, from being this hard for so long... "We could go back to my place and—mhmm!"
Scootaloo had kissed him. They'd never done that before.
Her lips felt like—
"Yes," Scootaloo said. She gave Rumble one more quick kiss, a little boop placed on his parted lips, a dumbfounded expression that made Scootaloo giggle. "Come on. Let's go."
"Right," Rumble said. He thought about uncrossing his legs before taking off just to give Scootaloo a good look at his—no, better not. Maybe they were just caught up in the moment. Maybe the mood would wear off by the time they'd gotten back to Rumble's house.
Still... it felt, the entire way there, that Scootaloo was rubbing her entire body against him this time, with her hind legs wrapped around in just such a way that he was sure he felt something wet and soft slipping up and down over his coat and feathers... something that made him feel the same way the sounds from Rainbow's apartment had and then some.
Maybe, after today, he could give his brother back his magazine.
It was quiet at Rumble's house when the pair got there. Since his brother was frequently, er... 'occupied'... and his parents were working late, Rumble was expected to look after himself after school, usually until whichever family member got home could be bothered to prepare a late dinner. Most of the time Rumble wasn't at home after school anyway, so the arrangement had worked for months without issue.
Mostly, Rumble felt he didn't know what to say. When he and Scootaloo got to the front door, and he paused a moment to retrieve the key to the front door, the air felt like the quiet before a hurricane. Rumble found his hoof shaking as he held the key, nervous energy running through his body, making even the simplest task seem difficult. Not, in his view, an overly positive omen, all things considered...
Scootaloo pushed past him to let herself in. When their bodies brushed together, Rumble's wings flitted and flexed of their own accord, bristling closer to the stiffness he'd found out a while ago was more than a rumour; 'wingboners' were the first thing he'd asked his brother about, and he'd gotten an earful of an explanation that essentially amounted to 'you'll understand when you're older'.
That was only a few weeks ago... was he that much older already?
Scootaloo waited for Rumble at the base of the stairs. Though he suspected she didn't mean to pose in particular, Rumble found himself staring at the simple way her foreleg reached out to the stair-rail, a tiny stretch of her already miniature body that suggested something more, inscrutable still to Rumble in his adolescent haze. Things were making less sense by the minute, and now there was an invisible, wordless voice, more or less screaming at him to flutter his way up the stairs and do the things to Scootaloo he'd seen Thunderlane doing to Rainbow Dash and then some. Rumble wasn't quite sure what 'and then some' meant, but he felt it was appropriate nonetheless.
"Your room's still upstairs, right?"
Rumble blinked. Why would his room have moved?
Maybe Scootaloo was feeling as dull-witted as he was.
Rumble decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, where a question like that would have earned her a healthy dose of teasing before. He nodded and gestured calmly to the door at the end of the upstairs hallway.
"Yeah. It, uh... it's still upstairs."
Scootaloo was looking at him. He was looking at her too, obviously. Now they were looking at each other—into each other. Rumble didn't know that he'd ever stared into somepony's eyes like that before.
It felt like there was something behind them he still couldn't see.
"Come on," Scootaloo said, extending her other hoof. "Let's go upstairs."
Gulp.
"Sure."
They went upstairs.
Rumble's room was shared with his brother, which meant a bunk-bed and half-and-half sense of room decoration, with posters changing dramatically in theme and flavour when they reached the room's natural halfway point. Sports pennants were on both halves, but Rumble's posters featured decidedly less female ponies in outfits of compromising persuasion. Now, Rumble couldn't tell if they added to the mood, or were just helping make him more nervous. His throat felt like there was an entire family of frogs lodged inside and ready to hibernate until Winter Wrap Up.
Just like the front door, Scootaloo let herself in first, pushing past Rumble and making her way into his room, a familiar space that only now seemed out of place. Scootaloo found her eyes exploring the walls as though they were new, collecting little bits of personality from the pony she was about to do decidedly adult things with. Nerves, excitement, they seemed two sides of the same coin at the moment.
Rumble shut the door and turned around to face Scootaloo, who'd clambered up onto the bottom half of the bunk-bed rather quickly.
"So," he said, incapable of masking the nervousness in his voice. "I guess we should, uh... well, what do you wanna..."
Rumble trailed off, not because he was too nervous to finish his sentence (which he was anyway), but because he'd realized only after staring for a few seconds that Scootaloo had turned about face, planted her head into one of his pillows, lifted her back end, parted her hind legs, and started waving her underage orange booty back and forth like she'd practiced the move in a mirror more than a few times.
The same part of Scootaloo's body that had rubbed up against Rumble's back was in full view for him now, a perky filly slit that was dripping evidence of Scootaloo's arousal down the insides of her legs and onto the blankets of Rumble's bed. While she'd gotten into position rather expertly, it was evident from just a few seconds of observation that her stance was mostly bravado—her whole body shook and quivered the same way Rumble's hoof had reaching for the lock on the front door, and while she was no doubt more turned on than she'd ever been, it didn't take away the whispers of fear in the back of her head—the 'what if's and 'what if not's, the haunting bubble of indecisive insecurities, telling her she wasn't worth this cute colt's attention, or even his time... no matter if they were friends, or more than that, how had she gotten herself into this situation? She needed to think things over, again, maybe, just give herself more time to...
Oh.
She'd never felt something press up against her like that. She and Rumble hugged often, but never in a way that made the part between her legs start warming and aching for touch. She'd never felt anything that made her whole body light up with electricity, made her want to shut her eyes and open her mouth to let out the same kind of sounds she'd heard leak from Rainbow Dash through her apartment window.
Scootaloo turned her head to look behind her, and sure enough, there was Rumble, an awkward smile and his torso pressed against hers, his hips lined up just the way Thunderlane's had been, with his... his...
Rumble had worried from the get-go that he wouldn't be hard, and they'd have to put things off until his erection magically sorted itself. It turned out, though, that just being in proximity to Scootaloo like this, just feeling the warmth of her body, the extra heat emanating from between her legs, the moisture he could feel slicking him up as he began to rub himself forward, soft little practice thrusts that slid his cock up and down the entrance to Scootaloo's cunny, making the orange filly gasp, a sound of mixed shock unable to articulate the new sensation she was experiencing.
As he moved his hips back and forth, Rumble found himself drawn to silence, save for a few subtle grunts through gritted teeth.
Scootaloo, on the other hoof, was much more eager to start exploring her new wordless vocabulary. Like it was as natural as breathing, she threw her head back moaned loudly as she ground herself back against Rumble's rapidly hardening prick. She'd never felt anything like that before either, how something could go from soft to hard so fast, or at all, just from touching her there, he must be getting excited, just like, just like they'd learned in Miss Cheerilee's class...
"Um," Rumble said. It felt sudden, even though it wasn't.
Scootaloo felt something very hard pressing against her two lips. The head of Rumble's prick, ready to make an entrance.
"I'm ready now," Rumble said simply.
Scootaloo moaned, despite there seemingly being nothing erotic about Rumble's sentence.
In like response, Rumble's cock twitched against Scootaloo's snatch, on cue from her moan.
"Me too," Scootaloo said, her voice hot and sultry. Though she'd never been inebriated before, it would only take a few years to learn this was what being drunk on something other than alcohol felt like.
The seconds before Rumble began to push were the longest she'd ever experienced.
Then his head slid inside.
The two of them held their breath, bodies clenched, neither moving for that instant.
"Are you okay?" Rumble asked, his voice heavy with worry.
"Yeah," Scootaloo said, still breathless. "I'm... really, really okay."
"It doesn't hurt?"
Scootaloo shook her head rapidly.
"Nuh-uh."
She wiggled her hips a little, still getting used to the sensation of anything being inside her at all. The nerve-endings rubbing against the head of Rumble's prick were rapidly acclimating to their new preference, and a lightning jolt ran up her spine when she pushed back just a bit, a gasp stealing its way from her mouth. Her body shook, just from the feeling of squeezing in one more inch of Rumble's unbelievably stiff cock.
"Wow," Rumble said. It was hard not to just... move. His whole brain had stopped thinking in words, just sensations now, the only thing was forward, push, thrust, hard... All words he knew, but a context that reinvented them.
"Put your hooves on my hips," Scootaloo said with her new breathy, desperate voice. "Here..." she reached back with her own hooves, Rumble meeting her grasp eventually and letting her guide his grip to the sides of her hips. She gave a cute, sassy little wiggle as he slid his other hoof into place.
"There," she said, smiling. "Now... pound me."
"Um." Rumble swallowed nervously. "Pound... pound you?"
Scootaloo nodded.
"Uh-huh. It's how grown-ups do... boinking. Like Rainbow Dash and—"
"Yeah yeah, I was there, I remember. Just..." Rumble bit his tongue, staring down at the sweet dish of pony pussy served up in front of him. "You're sure it won't hurt at all?"
"I'm sure."
Scootaloo winked at him.
For some reason, a buried part of Rumble's psyche took that as a cue to make his cock even harder.
"Fuck," Rumble growled between his teeth.
He pulled back once.
Then thrust inside; buried himself in a single stroke.
Scootaloo's mouth went wide. For a moment, no sound came out.
Then her pussy began to clench around Rumble's shaft.
"Ohhhhh..."
And, like that, Scootaloo began to have her first orgasm in her maybe-coltfriend's bedroom, face down, ass up on the bottom of his bunk-bed, with a rock-hard cock shoved inside her underage filly pussy.
Her whole body began to shake and tremble. Rumble hadn't even pulled back for a second thrust, hadn't even properly begun, begun... fucking her, oh, she liked that word a lot better and she didn't know why. Scootaloo had dreamed of feeling good in her life, she'd had dreams about joining the Wonderbolts and learning to fly for the first time, but this was a sensation that couldn't properly be put into words, despite how many hack pony clop artists would try over and over again... this was a moment of nothingness, when there was no Equestria anymore, just and endless, open void, and the feeling of floating... of your whole body, just for a moment, being completely and totally at peace... Scootaloo had never felt anything like it before, but now she was one-hundred percent sure this wasn't about to be the last time she did so.
It was, in a word, intense.
When it seemed like Scootaloo had finally come to, she looked back over her shoulder to find Rumble staring at her with a worried expression.
"Holy cow," he said. His cock was twitching inside Scootaloo's pussy, rubbing the head up against her walls and making her shiver and suppress another moan. "Are you okay?"
"Yessssss," Scootaloo said, drawling out her 's' like a drunken slur. "That was soooooo good... I've never felt anything like it before."
"Wow... really?"
Scootaloo nodded.
"I think I'm starting to get why Rainbow Dash was being so loud..."
"Huh?"
"Just start moving. Back and forth."
Rumble did his best to focus on following Scootaloo's directions. Part of him wanted just to stay in place, enjoying the sensation of Scootaloo's cunny squeezing around his cock as though it was shaking hands hello.
But, sure enough, the moment he began to move, the feeling of pleasure coursing through his body grew and grew, doubling and doubling on itself, and then even more when other sensations crept and coupled along side them. Scootaloo's moaning felt even louder and more fervent than Dash's had, and while Rumble had watched Thunderlane's hips move like a piston on autopilot, he felt fast enough to join the Wonderbolts already with how quickly he found himself slamming his cock into Scootaloo's pussy. And unlike solo flight training in his backyard, Scootaloo was a ready and receptive audience for every moment, howling like one of the cats in heat on his uncle's farm. Rumble found the noise inviting and invigorating in a way he was incapable of describing; just more. That was all he could translate it to.
Rumble felt like he wanted to open a hidden lexicon of expression, the kind hidden in his brother's magazines... but his body was on autopilot, and he'd never felt a stronger demand to simply continue repeating the same motion, over and over and over again. Every time the shaft of his cock slid inside Scootaloo's pussy, the combination of heat and warmth and wetness and Scootaloo's constant depraved moaning made his entire body shudder, his hips ache to push even further inside, to bury himself as deep as possible. It was a set of instructions read from an invisible script, telling him how to move as though the act had immediately become familiar. Rumble's hooves squeezed hard on Scootaloo's hips, pounding her hard enough to shake the upper bunk as well. Scootaloo's head would occasionally lurch forward, burying her face in Rumble's pillow and howling, surely loud enough to alert his parents if they'd been home.
While Scootaloo's first orgasm had come on like the force of a small meteor colliding with the planet, Rumble's subsequent impassioned thrusting left her feeling like every few seconds her pussy was quivering with a new type of enjoyment, and she ceased counting and expecting her whole self to explode and began just riding the wave of continued miniature crescendos, smiling internally each time she felt herself clench tight around Rumble's cock and draw another tortured sounding groan from his lips.
It didn't take long for Rumble's rapid pace to become even more hurried and erratic—each time the head of his cock slid in past Scootaloo's wet, puffy pussy lips it was like a voice screamed at him to go faster, harder, to keep going and going and going until finally the levy broke and washed him over in white hot glow.
"Scoots," Rumble said, a hint of panic in his voice to match the tempo of his thrusts. "I think I'm gonna... gonna..."
A new hunger came over Scootaloo. Where she'd already been ravenous for Rumble's dick, bouncing herself back onto it like she was a rider at the rodeo (pony rodeos totally exist look it up), the shiver of nervousness in her partner's voice made her long for something she'd never even thought of before, but now wanted more than anything: a hot, sticky load of Rumble's white, gooey cum, splattered all over the inside of her underage pussy.
If she could have had her way, they would have finished like that, with Scootaloo slamming herself backwards, burying Rumble's cock as deep as possible in her little snatch, and smiling back at him over her back as his balls twitched and unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum into her pussy.
But Scootaloo remembered, only vaguely, something at the end of their lesson with Miss Cheerilee... how when a mare and a colt were together, there could be unintended consequences if he finished inside instead of outside...
Scootaloo swore she felt Rumble's cock begin to twitch and fire its first spurt before she managed to pull herself forward off his prick. It was an emptiness she wanted to avoid for the rest of her life—but right now, she had business to attend to.
"Scoots...!"
Rumble shut his eyes and let out a long, low groan as his balls clenched against his body. Scootaloo grabbed his prick with both hooves and stroked furiously up and down, finding a natural rhythm to match the motion of Rumble's still rocking hips.
The first shot hit her square in the face, right on her forehead, a big hot sticky splat that began to dribble immediately down her nose and cheeks. Surprisingly, Scootaloo found herself not at all bothered by the sensation of something warm and sticky landing on her face... she actually liked it. Her tongue lapped in a circle around her mouth to catch the trickling bits of run-off spunk.
Huh. Not bad. Salty, but not bad.
Rumble was a mess of incoherent groans as Scootaloo milked out the rest of his load. If he'd had his eyes open, he would have seen his filly friend's face go from her normal bright orange to being fully glazed over with his cum, a translucent off-white layer coating, with streaks of more white running up Scootaloo's mane and even landing in spatters over her wings. Rumble's cock twitched and twitched, more and more cum squeezed out of his balls and over Scootaloo's overjoyed face.
When Rumble finally came down, his body felt like it'd been through a marathon. His muscles were sore from clenching, and his wings were tender from being so stiff.
Scootaloo smiled up at him, her face sticky with white glaze.
"Good?" she asked, licking her lips and swallowing another tongue-ful of Rumble's jizz.
Rumble shivered. His cock twitched, and a final bead of cum landed on Scootaloo's wings.
"Yes," he said, finally understanding the way Scootaloo had replied earlier.
"That was so much fun," Scootaloo said. She collapsed back onto Rumble's bed, but caught herself as she began nuzzling up against the ruffled blankets. "Oops! Sorry, I'm all sticky..."
"That's okay." Rumble collapsed next to Scootaloo and draped his foreleg over her chest. The two of them nuzzled their snouts together, with Rumble seemingly unconcerned over the transition of sticky stuff. Scootaloo giggled when he kissed her nose.
"Hey!" she said. "That tickles."
"No it doesn't. You're just being a spazz."
"I'm not a spazz. You're a spazz!"
Scootaloo swung the first pillow, ushering in a flurry of blows and resultant chaos, tangling the blankets and bedsheets over each other as the pair scrabbled and giggled into their playfight.
That's how Thunderlane found them: giggling and sticky underneath the blankets.
Of course, that's a story for another day...
THE END.
