Soarin Smells Sweetly

Hot and cold. Soarin felt hot and cold at the same time. Like standing next to an open window with the heater on. He wondered if this was a metaphor for something, or if he was just feeling weird.

"Make yourself comfortable," Orange Dream said.

Soarin did so, by sitting down on the edge of the bed, albeit a little too far on the edge to make himself that comfortable. It reminded him a little of first visits to bedrooms during dating age still in school, when you were never sure whether an invisible line existed between you and anything else in the room. Being in somepony else's room was a privilege, being invited there all the more so.

Soarin ran his hoof along the blankets and bedspread. It felt nice. Soft. The blankets were a soft brown. Soarin found them inoffensive to look at, almost pleasant, just in their plainness. Soft, thick blanket. Soarin liked the way they felt. They felt good.

Orange Dream's hoof was on his leg.

"Hey," Orange Dream said.

Soarin had played this out before, but usually in the other part. He was the one with the hoof on the leg, the one pushing forward and leaning so that his presence loomed, so they could both feel the heat of each others' breath, and any alcohol in them was sure to swirl and swish around into the bubbling mix of body chemistry that made a pony long for somepony else next to them, to be even closer than physics allowed, to pull them into you wholly and completely, so that when the white-hot light vanished, there was only one pony left, and never again would anyone complain of feeling half-filled or empty again. Soarin liked that part.

He felt empty a lot, it seemed.

"Oh," Soarin said. "Uh. Hey." He wasn't really sure what else to say. Maybe that much was obvious.

"Don't worry," Orange Dream said, leaning his face so close their lips were almost touching. "You don't have to talk right now."

"Okay," Soarin said.

Orange Dream kissed him. A soft, barely-there touching of lips at first, leaving Soarin to beg and linger at the edge of the gesture, until he couldn't take anymore, and he was the one leaning in even more, wrapping his legs around Orange Dream's body and pulling him until the two halves of their magnetic coupling could be linked, and... and some other mushy stuff that was moving too fast for Soarin to recite it. His whole body felt like it had swallowed too many drinks to count, and his head was swirling, all this from just a kiss, his tongue was hanging out and drooling like a complete idiot...

Oh.

Orange Dream had stopped kissing him a few seconds ago. Soarin's mouth had been lingering open in the air, smooching nothing, for a little while. He felt the hot flush of blush in his cheeks, which seemed to join the rest of his body in the general theme of 'heating up'. Hot and cold. The only part of him that felt cold was a little piece in the center of his head, the tiny doubt that was so small it could no longer be translated into words. Worries, fears... what was all the fuss? It was so much easier just to let your consciousness coast into a vast ocean and float, whatever came your way was simply what ought to have happened...

"Hey," Orange Dream said.

Soarin blinked and came back to reality, at least partially. He blinked a few times to make sure he was still in the same room he'd started in. Part of him felt like he was floating. Most of him, in fact.

"Huh?"

Orange Dream further up onto the bed and laid down with his hooves behind his head, like he was lounging pool-side on vacation, or just generally waiting to be attended to by some servant or another.

Soarin's attention was drawn immediately to the sizeable distraction poking up from between Orange Dream's hind legs.

It looked... a lot bigger than he was used to.

Much bigger than his, that was certain.

Why should that be a big deal?

Soarin shook his head to nopony in particular. His own cock wasn't even close to hard, more-so seem to be intensely interested in remaining as flaccid as possible and hiding between his legs until the encounter was over. Seeing somepony else—a fan, no less—stand him up so effortlessly only added to the muddled mix of emotional soup swilling about in Soarin's cerebellum. He found his head swaying from side to side, like there was an ephemeral bit of water lodged in either ear he was trying to dislodge by intuition. More consciously, he could only stare at Orange Dream's hulking prick. He wasn't familiar with shame and arousal coupling so close together. Part of him was already starting to like it.

"Like what you see?" Orange asked casually. He didn't even seem to bat an eyelash at Soarin's overcome demeanor, as though he was used to seeing this sort of response in the bedroom.

Soarin took a few extra seconds to process the question through his constant drooling, then a few extra seconds to come up with a responds that could survive the haze of his adrenaline and arousal.

"Yes," was all he said, and licked his lips.

"Why don't you show me how much you like it."

Soarin's cock, still nowhere near full hardness, twitched involuntarily between his legs. He liked that feeling—that somepony else had his dick by a string, theirs to pull and play with just by the force of their words alone. Their words, and the enormous, engorged, veiny, bulging cock inbetween their legs...

Soarin made an attempt to wipe the drool of his chin, but some of it still remained. He payed it no further mind as he lowered himself to the bed, prowling like an awkward serpent, slithering closer and closer to his prey, until...

"Wow." Soarin's voice came out breathless, his whole body caught for a moment in awe.

Without another word, he opened his mouth and leaned down towards his prize.

Even the head was thicker than he could have imagined. It barely fit. His lips hurt, his tongue couldn't figure out what to do around the bulky shaft, and there was so much more to go, he'd never felt anything like it... Soarin grunted as he steeled himself further, forcing as much of Orange Dream's throbbing prick into his mouth as he could manage, then taking a few seconds to breathe before attempting to force himself to take even more, his throat bulging and screaming at him to stop, but the fire burning inbetween his legs and in his chest and the back of his brain was too bright, and there was nothing that could have convinced him to stop until he was finished, until he had the whole thing down his throat, until he could smell the warm, heavy musk of Orange Dream's balls nestled next to his nose, hear the satisfied groan of somepony whose cock had been swallowed whole...

Half-hard, Soarin felt himself start cumming involuntarily. His semi-flaccid prick jerked and clenched, dribbling a slow-moving but hefty in volume stream of cum down the inside of his legs and onto the clean bedding beneath.

Orange Dream barely raised an eyebrow. He watched Soarin cumming with something like a detached, mild amusement, the same way a parent might watch a child bounce for joy when they were allowed a cookie for dessert. Ponies always looked so desperate and innocent when they let themselves cum like that...

Soarin didn't stop sucking, nor did his tongue cease its swirling movement as best it could manage around Orange Dream's shaft. But he began to moan girlishly around the big piece of dick-meat in his mouth, making soft whimpers amidst gurgles as he rocked his head up and down, managing finally to work all the way down, until his nose was full of the funky musk of Orange's ball-sweat, and just another half an inch would have been sure to make Soarin gag. But right now, he could manage, and what's more, finally begin slobbering on the healthy knob he'd manage to work down his throat. Mhmmm...

Orange Dream put a hoof on the back of Soarin's head as the wingpony went to work, gurgling and drooling gratuitously as he worked Orange's cock, making a show out of the spectacle as spectacular as any Wonderbolt's show. Orange Dream, for what it was worth, only moved his hips slightly, but the look on his face said he was pleased in a way nopony could accurately articulate. It rang of snakes and sweet, spun sugar.

It seemed the blowjob could have gone on forever, if Orange was willing, and Soarin would have been just as content to occupy himself as a pony-shaped throat-fucking vessel until the sun set... but Orange Dream yanked Soarin's head off with a hoof in his mane, seemingly irreverent for the amount of pain it would cause, and Soarin seemingly unconcerned as well, possibly even enjoying the forceful jerking around.

"Hey," Orange said again.

Soarin's eyes went wide, like a puppy waiting for instruction.

"Why don't you position yourself properly at the top of the bed, and I'll give you a reward for doing such a good job warming up my cock?"

This tone had crept in surreptitiously, without Soarin even being aware it was something he'd always wanted. His cock twitched inbetween his legs as he nodded fervently, hopping further up on the bed and taking position on all fours, bending his head down so it almost touched the headboard, and sticking his ass up so far he was sure Orange Dream had a perfect display to treat him, Soarin's taut, muscular butt spread as wide as his hind legs could manage, his cum-covered, half-hard cock still twitching involuntarily between his legs. Dripping a little bit of cum on the bed, which was rapidly becoming in need of a wash.

There wasn't much need for further words between them. In a position like this, one pony did one thing, and one pony did another. It was a gesture Soarin had replicated hundreds of times, albeit often at the other end of the coupling. He wasn't used to this, and therefore found himself yearning for it all the more. He wanted to be bent over like this, he wanted to be the one with his head tucked low, unable to see what was going on behind him, given the complete sense of power away, until there was nothing he could do but wait and twitch and tremble and clench and breathe so deep he was sure his chest might explode...

Ah. Soarin sucked in a sharp hiss of breath as he felt Orange Dream's cock prod against his ass.

"Shhh," was all Orange Dream whispered back. It was more than enough, made Soarin's head fill with fuzz and swoon like he'd swallowed a full swig of his drink back at the bar. Warm, comforting, just like the blankets he'd admired on sitting down...

There was lots of moisture, far more than even Soarin's fervent drooling could have left. Maybe there'd been a bedside bottle of lube he'd missed, maybe Orange Dream had been dribbling spit into the crack of Soarin's ass for minutes while staring it down, possibly time had stopped moving and none of this made sense at all. Soarin just knew his head was down, he could feel the head of the enormous prick he'd only minutes ago struggled to down now poking into the sensitive entrance to his rear end. He felt his natural reflex, to tense, to seize up, and then fought it, taking deep breaths and relaxing as much as possible, to take away as much of the struggle from penetration as was possible.

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, given how smoothly the rest of the night had flowed, Soarin felt Orange Dream's cock slip into almost painlessly, from one instant out to another in, the whole of Soarin's ass filled up with the hot shaft he'd slobbered to lube up, as though he'd been dreaming of the thing sliding into him the whole night.

It was difficult to do anything other than breathe. Soarin's whole body clenched up, his ass seemed intent on squeezing the cock inside it until a whole load of cum got milked out. Similarly, Soarin's cock was stirring of its own accord, twitching into almost-there erections and then curling down to a flaccid whimper. He felt so desperate, so horny, like he'd never wanted anything more in his life than the cock in his ass... and yet still, couldn't get it up all the way, reminding him of the first times in puberty he'd woken up to sticky bedsheets and questions about the stallions in his dreams.

"No, it doesn't hurt," Soarin said, answering a question that hadn't been asked. He was so used to this part, he'd just assumed Orange would have asked, the same way he did when he was getting ready to plow somepony into unconsciousness from behind...

"That's good," Orange Dream said. At least he was still there, hadn't dissociated into a state where Soarin's ass was the only thing he could focus on.

Soarin didn't seem to be doing very well on the other end of the equation though. His vocabulary was down to almost single syllables now, his whole body screamed at him to bounce and rock himself incessantly on the prick that was shoved inside him, but, at the same time, knowing if he moved even an inch, he'd feel the engorged head of Orange Dream's prick shove up against his prostate, and the limp wiggles his cock had been performing would transcend to more half-hard milking, his balls surging and squeezing to get the sticky stuff out his shaft. The idea of cumming again without being all the way hard hit him with another wave of embarrassment, the same hot-and-heavy 'I shouldn't want this' feeling that had overwhelmed him before, the first time the jizz had begun to leak out of the limp head of his cock...

"Oh, fuck..." Soarin normally swore under his breath when he was the one doing the pounding, but now his voice game out loud and high-pitched, so sharp and genuine the fear of being overwhelmed was almost palpable in every syllable.

Orange Dream started to fuck him, then, in earnest. And, like clockwork, Soarin's cock gave one last defiant clench before it began to spray and dribble cum down the insides of his legs again. Even more than last time, it seemed, as though somehow his balls had managed to save it up.

Though Soarin couldn't see Orange's face, if he'd turned his head, he would have caught a faint, fanged smile.

Unbeknownst to Soarin, though he could certainly feel it physically, without knowing much of what was going on... well, Orange Dream's cock was certainly a lot slicker inside Soarin's ass than would have been normally expected, and even though he hadn't cum yet, his cock was doing a perfect job sliding in and out of Soarin's tender asshole, making him quiver like a shivering little filly each time the head slammed home inside him as deep as it could go.

But there was a lot going on with Orange's cock aside from its size, hardness, and sheer slipperiness. All the while he'd been fucking Soarin's ass, without mentioning a word of it, his cock had begun to leak and dribble its own special liquid, much more syrupy and sweet than Soarin's cum, though it was certainly more flavourful now that he'd added mangos to his regular diet... Orange Dream's cock was even more swollen, a single bulge at the base that seemed to have emerged from nowhere. It made his cock look even more obscene, probably would have caused Soarin to have even more of a convalescent fit if he'd managed a look at it... the firm, singular bulge at the base, that began to move up, slowly, as if on a predetermined delivery schedule, until it was at the very tip of Orange Dream's enormous shaft, adding more bulge to the tip, so that each time he slammed the head of his cock into Soarin's prostate, the pegasus pony shrieked even louder, so loud any neighbours surely would have heard if Orange Dream's house hadn't been so out of the way, and unbordered by any sort of nosy nearby occupants. There were only the two of them to hear Soarin's hysterical panting and moaning, as though his second orgasm had stretched out into a third, and that into a fourth, and that one into a potentially infinite horizon as long as Orange Dream kept pounding, kept slamming his cock home, spreading Soarin's ass wider and wider with each ram, the bulge at his tip so swollen it must surely be ready to come out any second...

Pop.

Soarin couldn't have seen anything, of course. His eyes were rolling back in his head, his cock clenched so tight trying to wring out its final drips of semen that his entire body felt like it was a metal wire wound around a single point. Soarin imagined a hyper-condensed piece of something floating in space amidst nothing, the entire matter of the universe smooshed down to a single atom. Then wring it dry. That was what his prostate felt like.

He couldn't have noticed the bulge when it had appeared, nor when it disappeared. Only had the vaguest sensation of awareness of the slick, slippery, honey-like fluid pouring from his ass, mixed with Orange's 'cum' and the remnants of their frantic penetration, a slurrious mixture of various means of lubricant.

Finally, Orange Dream pulled his cock out. Miraculously, Soarin felt no less full, though his cock finally seemed to take the signal to stop cumming. For now.

Without asking for permission, Soarin collapsed forward onto the bed, slamming down in a pool of his own juices and cum. The proverbial wetspot, which he didn't mind occupying even a bit. His mind was incapable of minding anything at present.

He felt full. That was a good feeling.

Orange Dream smiled as he nuzzled his muzzle against the back of Soarin's neck. Miraculously, Soarin seemed already to be drifting to sleep, like some heavy, heady chemical was working its way into his brain and walking him down the path to a fitful night among the clouds...

"Smells yummy," Soarin said absentmindedly, licking his lips before yawning. He grabbed the nearest patch of blanket and clutched it tight to his body, like a stuffed animal. His nostrils flared as the scent of honey and rich, foreign spices mingled in his nose.

"Sleep tight," Orange Dream whispered.

The next morning... maybe eggs, for breakfast?