Flash had been practicing. Every day for the last two weeks (since his first day hanging out with Rainbow) he'd spent the morning primping and trying out makeup, outfits, and bra-stuffing.

It had been impossible to ignore Celestia and Luna's looks when he'd first come home. His mommy in particular had seemed to have trouble speaking as he walked up to her and gave her a hug. They'd showered him in new presents—a vanity unit, a makeup mirror, so much makeup as would cause even Rarity to exclaim at the excess, and a far more expansive selection of female underwear.

The mirror was great, and while he made excellent use of it to carefully apply his makeup, it also let him catch a glance at Celestia walking up behind him.

She was wearing what looked like skinny-cut jeans, sized for her taller frame. They clung tight and showed off everything, yet actually revealed nothing. A dark turtle-neck shirt hid everything from her waist to her neck, and did a perfect job of showing off her massive chest. Her makeup was similar to what she'd wear to school, but with a lot of subtle changes that recontextualized her face from trustworthy to hungry.

He barely even twitched when her hands settled on his shoulders and her breasts settled on his head.

"I'm having company tonight." Leaning a little further forward, Celestia set the weight of her chest fully on the top of Flash's head.

Now, with all that mass compressing him slight, Flash was aware of his mommy's breathing, each clench of her diaphragm registering in his neck muscles. Too, the scent of her perfume was practically cascading over him, carrying Flash away to a field of roses and cherries. Even through this rush of tactile and olfactory bliss, Flash could remember the fantasies of all the guys—admitted mostly in the locker room—about Celestia's chest. What they all wanted to do to her breasts. He had been inventive, mixing elements of everyone else's fantasies so that he sounded normal—when all he ever wanted to do was just cuddle them.

"Anyone I know?" Flash picked up the tiny brush and held his eyelids still while he brushed his lashes into glorious definition.

"A cute guy I met at the teachers' conference. It's hard, in my line of work, finding someone to hook up with that doesn't want to do all the dating and long-term things. We're just going to have a little fun." Watching Flash in the mirror, Celestia carefully teased one of his bangs aside to reveal his startlingly blue eyes. "You're so pretty. Hold still a moment."

Halfway through brushing one lash, Flash froze as Celestia drew her phone out of a pocket. Holding it out and slightly to the side, she aimed the camera at the mirror and gave the tiny optical device the most satisfied, almost feline smile ever—then took the shot. "You're such a darling."

Flash felt his cheeks heat up. It wasn't the amazing breasts on his head, it wasn't the cage clamped firmly around his boi clitty, it was the way his mommy spoke. His ears were just about melting off, though, when her hand moved fast and she snapped a second picture. "Hey, uh—"

"Don't worry, these won't be shared with anyone except The Club."

"The Club?" Flash tried to focus back on his makeup. It worked, mostly, though the tight throbbing between his legs was now going to be an ever-present addition to his day. And he'd been doing so well at staying relaxed…

"Yes. A few friends with similar tastes. I've been thinking of inviting Sour Sweet." Tapping away on her phone, Celestia made happy little humming sounds that Flash recognized as her in an extremely good mood. "And sent."

Gulping, Flash finally managed to get his last lash done and didn't have to worry about ruining his makeup by blinking. "W-What 'tastes'?"

"For myself it's you. A cute little boi who is the sweetest and most adorable—" Celestia drew out her phone again and snapped another picture just as Flash hit full-blush. "Yes, that. We have a special app and everything. It's very exclusive, and I'm excited to invite my first new member."

"I don't understand. When did you join this club?" The last touch Flash needed was his lips. Pale skin and blue eyes/hair meant that a bright and bold red lipstick was perfect. Countless videos online in the last fourteen days had coached him through each step of putting his face on. A bold line along one lip and then back over the other and he squeezed them together and smiled into the mirror.

"The founder of the club invited me. She'd started things up only a year before you came to stay here." Celestia's face broke into a huge smile. "They love the new look, by the way."

"W-Who?"

Narrowing her eyes a moment, Celestia tapped away on her phone, paused, and then smiled. "The app doesn't show names, though we all know each other." Holding her phone out, Celestia showed Flash the chat under the pictures of him and her.

The first thing that was apparent were all the people in chat were identified by avatars only (as Celestia had said)—pictures that were closeups of cleavage. Two big, heavenly pink breasts with a cavernous divide between them were beside the pictures. He knew that bosom very well, given it was currently resting on his head.

Two enormous buttery yellow breasts overflowing from a bra that he was sure was too small, said, "Oh my goodness. You are so lucky! He's blossomed into such a sweet little thing!"

A pair of off-blue breasts (that he was sure wasn't Rainbow's first and foremost by their size), said, "Don't let that boi out of your sight or I'll come and gobble him up."

More comments from at least three others filled the screen until Celestia's breasts asked, "Would you mind if I showed her? She'd blush so much more as she tries to guess whom is whom."

Yellow boobs asked, "Is she reading this now?"

Celestia had to set her arms to either side of Flash's head, holding her phone out in front to type, "She is."

"Hello, Fleurette! Oh gosh you're pretty in that dress," Yellow said.

"When are you going to bring her along? I'm dying to meet her," another (different) pair of yellow breasts asked, though these were far smaller.

"When is our next meeting?" Celestia typed.

"In another four weeks. College has been rough," Big Yellow replied.

"I'll bring her and a new prospective member."

There were gasps emojied and spelled out in delicate italics all over the screen by a multitude of mammaries.

"I'm going to go enjoy this sweet thing now. Everyone play nice." Celestia closed the app, revealing the background of her screen was the picture she'd just taken of Flash blushing. She slid the phone back into her pocket and lifted her soft weight from her boi's head. "Remember, you asked for it."

Flash had never seen his cheeks blush hard enough to match his lipstick before—though he'd only been wearing lipstick for a few weeks now. "I know you asked if you could share pictures of me with close friends, but—but I didn't realize you had a club for it."

Tousling Flash's hair again to return its bounce, Celestia sighed. "I didn't have a club for it before you came into my life, Fleur." She turned for the door. "Any plans for lunch?"

Jumping to his feet—feet that were comfortable in low heels now—Flash twirled around in the black dress over white skirts. He was completely and unabashedly in love with wearing french maid uniforms around the house. They let him express his desire to serve the two women in his life. The long dress, of course, always swished around—which was something he adored.

"I was thinking some of that soup I made on Monday. I baked some fresh bread earlier, too." Following Celestia out of his room, Flash felt perfectly content in his self-appointed role as maid of the house. "If it pleases the lady?"

Celestia let out a peal of pure laughter. "Fleur, what's gotten into you today?"

Clutching a hand to each side of his dress when Celestia looked back at him, Flash dipped a little and tilted his head down into a curtsy. "Madam, I am not sure what you're referring to." He had to fight back his own giggles at how girly and playful he felt. It typified everything he loved about being around Celestia—his mommy.

"The soup and bread will be lovely, dear. Our company will be arriving at four. I'm sure he can be entertained until dinner, when we'll head out somewhere and come back for the main event."

Flash bobbed his head. "Of course, my lady."

Lunch went smoothly, Flash sticking to his role of house maid, though he did "reluctantly" sit on Celestia's lap while she fed him soup. Working around the house, he lost track of time and moved to answer the door when it rang.

Flash wasn't exactly short, but Celestia and Luna were big women, and the guy standing in the doorway was closer to their scale than his. He had orange hair that was neatly cut into a masculine hairdo, a close-trimmed and stylish orange stubble over a square jaw. His skin was just shy of being red and was mostly covered by a dark black shirt and jeans. His shoes looked like he'd walked right off the set of a cowboy movie, but the dominating feature of the man that made him scream masculinity was his muscles. He filled out the shirt and left bulges here and there whenever it pulled tight over part of him.

Gulping, Flash couldn't help but just stare at this image of maleness that was at the opposite end of every scale imaginable from him.

"Steph!" Celestia walked up and put a hand on Flash's shoulder. "Please excuse Fleur here, she must have gotten a bit of a surprise."

"Aww. Don't be surprised, little lady, I promise I don't bite."

His voice was rich and deep, backed by a pair of lungs that Flash assumed were trained for singing. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean—" Flash broke off as he watched the guy's gaze start at Flash's eyes, flow down his body, then roll back up—before flicking to Celestia.

Flash's brain connected the dots. He'd checked Flash out as any straight guy would any woman, then immediately looked away to Celestia. Flash couldn't blame him, even if Flash's image was perfectly feminine, he knew how much his mommy drew attention.

"So, Miss Celestia, are we going to move inside or should I sweep you off your feet out here?" Steph's eyes slid aside to Flash again, finding something there worth looking at, but his attention dragged back to Celestia again.

"Of course! Come in, come in!" Looking a touch flustered, Celestia guided Flash to the side and made room for Steph to walk in. His presence in a room seemed to fill it to the brim, and the living room was no exception. Breathing a little heavy, Celestia bit her lower lip and asked, "Would you like to retire somewhere more comfortable?"

Looking again to Flash, Steph asked, "Is your maid going to be okay?"

"She'll be fine, won't you, Fleur?"

Nodding, not able to talk still, Flash realized it was the scent in the room that had hit him hardest. Steph was wearing cologne, and it was the only masculine scent he'd experienced in the house. He lost track of what was going on so much that when his daze ended, Celestia and Steph were gone.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Flash went back to the kitchen where he was partway through mopping the floor. The sound, when it started, shocked him. He'd never heard his mommy scream in that way before, but the longer it went on the longer he realized that was her being very vocal about how much she enjoyed Steph.

His blush came back full force. There was no denying what was going on—not when the sounds of thudding started. The rhythmic tune that had set the stage for humanity's growth in population since time immemorial echoed in Flash's head, a counterpoint to Celestia's cries of joy.

Trying to narrow his focus to mopping took a herculean effort—an effort that was beyond Flash. No matter how careful he was, his mop always moved to the rhythm of the pair. Between his legs, his boi-clit throbbed in the cruel embrace of the cage that restricted it. Every moan and groan had his mind flashing up imagined scenes and his fantasies inserted himself into them.

The fantasies, though, never involved him being the bucking stud atop Celestia.

"Fleur? Fleurette, dear?"

Celestia's voice startled Flash. He looked up, not realizing how distracted he'd been. "Y-Yes?" Looking around at her, he could see she looked—disheveled. Her shirt was done up, but the buttons didn't line up, and her hair was a ruffled mess.

Flash wanted to rush to her aid and, like Rarity would often espouse, undo the tragedy of a fashion emergency. Instead, being a good little maid, he bit his lower lip in worry.

"I'll just be getting ready to have dinner with Steph. We shouldn't be too long." She ducked back and walked down the hall toward her bedroom.

Flash had rushed to the doorway to make sure she was alright, and saw that she walked a little funny. If anything, it made his situation even worse. But there was still house to clean, and Flash's fantasies of being made to walk like that notwithstanding, he had to keep focused.

He heard the shower start, heard Celestia singing something muffled and joyous, and let out a sigh.

"Something wrong?" Steph's deep voice startled Flash so that he spun around to look at him. "Don't mind me, just giving that goddess some room, ya know?"

Flash knew. Hoooooo boy did Flash know. He nodded.

Steph was shirtless, though he had his trousers on. His chest was everything a woman could want in a man—six-pack abs, pecs that twitched when Flash glanced at them (as if sensing his gaze), and shoulders that had five little scratch marks on each.

"C-Can I get you something, s-sir?" Flash asked.

"Water would be good. Or something else refreshing after a workout like that." Steph's eyes were on Flash as he went to the fridge and lifted out the jug of water that had two steeping halves of a lemon in it.

Feeling self-conscious, Flash willed his hands not to shake as he poured a long glass of the zesty water. "Here you go."

"Thank ya kindly, little lady." Taking the glass from Flash, Steph lifted it to his lips and started draining it. Lifting the base higher and higher, a few trickles slipped out of the corner of his mouth—one running to his chin while two others ran in rivulets down his smooth chest.

Flash, his eyes locked on those two drops, completely missed when Steph cupped his hand under Flash's chin, tilted his head up, and kissed his cheek. "You're a sweet little thing. Thanks for that."

Heart beating like crazy, Flash watched as Steph left the room, but he couldn't even move let alone come up with something to say. Only when he heard Celestia's bedroom door close and the shower turn off could he finally get his head around having a guy flirt with him. And, if there was any confusion about how he felt about that, his straining groin cleared it right up for him.

Giving a little, girlish giggle, Flash collected the glass and washed it. He topped up the chilled water and put that back in the fridge.

Humming happily, Flash finished cleaning the kitchen and defrosted some soup for his own dinner, since he'd be all alone. He was once more surprised when Celestia and Steph walked into the kitchen—both now fully dressed. This time Steph's eyes were only for Celestia, and Flash couldn't blame him.

She was wearing a gorgeous dress that hugged absolutely every curve and highlighted every dip all the way from the plunging neckline that showed a hint of the lacy garment supporting her hefty cleavage all the way down to the bottom of the split skirt that hung around her calves. How the split didn't show off her panties, Flash didn't know.

Then a new thought hit him and made his brain completely freeze—was she wearing underwear?

"We're heading out now. I promise we won't be too late, so feel free to wait up." Celestia held out an arm toward Flash and, without a brain cell in his head firing, he walked forward into the hug. "There's a good girl. If you wouldn't mind, could you clean up my bedroom before we're back?"

"Yes, mommy." The words just slipped out, demure and hesitant. Flash blushed and dipped his head even as Celestia kissed the top of his brow.

Letting go of the hug, Celestia reached out her arm and linked it with Steph's. The pair made their way to the front door.

"She calls you 'mommy'?" Steph's voice was audible to Flash, though Celestia's reply was not. Then the front door cut off any further words of their conversation.

A resigned (and wistful) sigh slipped from Flash's lips. He set his soup to heating and went to take care of straightening Celestia's bedroom. The closer he got, the more he thought about what he'd heard and what had certainly taken place in there.

Memories of times he'd "cleaned his mommy up" after some moment where she got too excited while watching something sprung to mind, but the smell of maleness in the room hit him a little hard. Wavering on his heels, Flash shook his head and continued inside. Mixed with that male musk was something else, something Flash was intimately familiar with.

He knew Celestia's scent and taste. There were times when she'd let him lay there, head between her thighs, cleaning her while she just stroked his head. All too often she'd stopped him before things went so far as to climax, though there were some where she'd indulged herself.

Gathering up the bedclothes, the smells were stronger still—reinforcing the memories of him laying on his back across Celestia's lap, gazing up into her blushing cheeks and past her heaving chest. She often played with his hair, stroked his head, or just cradled him there. Those moments were precious to Flash—a connection with his mommy that was his and his alone. She'd even called him a good girl on many such occasions.

Dumping the load of sheets and covers into the washing machine, Flash was aware of another slight addition to Celestia's scent—sweat. She hadn't just had sex, she'd been energetic about it. It was a refined odor that made Flash's toes curl precisely because he rarely found her in such a state.

Flash started the machine and headed to the bathroom while his dinner continued to heat. Sitting on the toilet, he lifted his dress up and lowered his panties.

"Gosh—" was all Flash could say at the mess. Sighing, he removed the thick pad and set it down, then pulled over the wipes and started cleaning his cage and groin up. The problem, as ever, was that touching himself there only made more mess.

Working as fast as possible, Flash bit his lip and held back any stray moan or whine as he cleaned and then applied a fresh pad to his panties and pulled them up. Wadding up the wipes in the dirty pad, he tossed the entirety into the little bin beside the toilet and let his skirts back down again.

Sitting still to calm himself, Flash closed his eyes for just a moment and was able to return to that cozy lap and get those loving pets—before the microwave chimed to tell him his dinner was ready.

The fantasy didn't arouse him, it didn't make him strain in his cage, and it didn't reinforce his growing femininity—it was just a wonderful composite of memories of his happiest times. Standing up, he let his skirts sort themselves out, washed up his hands, and went to have his dinner.

Flash, with a full belly and having just finished making Celestia's bed with fresh linen, startled at the sound of the front door opening. He turned to see Celestia and Steph coming inside and he noticed immediately how fixated they were on each other.

Celestia's eyes, however, drifted toward Flash and he saw one of her eyebrows raise slowly, questioningly.

Not knowing exactly what he was being asked, Flash nonetheless trusted his mommy and knew that if anything went too far—if he ever became uncomfortable with anything—he could let her know and the moment would be replaced with soft words and gentle petting.

He nodded.

One finger raised from Celestia's hand and beckoned him forward, so he rushed to the kitchen, stepping to the side of the hallway where it led through.

Steph cleared his throat. "I hear, Fleurette, that you can't abide pants. That right?"

The question surprised Flash. He puzzled at it, tried to discern the meaning, then realized what Steph had said. "Pants" was the safeword his mommy used with him—a word that he avoided saying. His safe word, combined with the utter nonsense the rest of the sentence was, meant his mommy had spoken to Steph.

A new wave of love washed through Flash. He felt giddy and happy and—curious. Nodding, Flash tilted his head down and tried to hide all the emotions rushing around behind that of a nervous maid girl. "Y-Yes, sir. I can barely even s-say the word."

With a new excitement kindled, Flash's mind raced at the implications of what might be planned. He wondered if he should ask Steph to clarify things, so he could be sure the man knew what he was getting into, but in his moment of indecision Steph struck.

Strong, powerful fingers gripped his shoulder. Flash paled in shock at being manhandled. Whatever Steph had planned, Flash was absolutely sure only his safeword could save him from being overpowered. Feeling like his heart was fluttering, Flash looked up with wide eyes into Steph's gaze. There was nothing Flash could do to resist as the guy pulled him into motion—that strong hand gripped firmly to Flash's lace-bedecked shoulder—and he wondered with coquettish anxiety what was on the menu.

With one arm around Celestia and one clamped to Flash, Steph drew the pair along in his wake as he made his way to Celestia's bedroom again. "We might need some more cleanin'."

"But, I—I—I—" Flash struggled to find a rock in the chaotic sea his evening had become. There was no help and no sane reason he could think of for why Steph was doing this. Then his brain ticked over and found one—does he want a three-some with Celestia and the "maid of the house"? Flash tried to get out a denial, "I'm not a gi—"

Steph turned his gaze toward Flash, locking eyes with him that mentally weighed down Flash's resistance. There was his safeword, but this wasn't something Flash was upset about.

Having drawn Flash all the way into the room and closed the door behind him, Steph paused a passionate kiss with Celestia to turn and look at Flash. His smile was lop-sided and Flash couldn't work out what the man was thinking or what he'd say.

"Why don't you get comfortable on the bed, sweet-cheeks, I'm gonna make sure this little filly knows what's going on." Steph let go of Celestia and stepped into Flash's most near and dear personal space, then took another step so Flash backed up against the wall. "Ya see, I like it when I have a—a witness."

Flash was stunned, frozen, and couldn't think how to respond. Then Steph's hand reached down and pulled his skirts up while the other reached under them. Strong, insistent fingers touched the waistband of Flash's panties and then pushed down between his skin and the padding within.

There was no look of shock and no exclamation as Steph cupped the cage around Flash's sex. The man gave it a little tug, not painful, but a reminder to Flash that he was wearing it. "I think we both know where we stand. Why don't you settle down on your knees and keep your pretty eyes open for me?"

It was a question, and a direct one. Flash nodded slowly and, when Steph's hand drew from his panties, he slid down the wall and landed on his knees with his dress fanned out around him.

He watched in shock and absolute amazement as Steph slipped his shirt off, removed his shoes and pants, then kicked his boxers down to join the trail of his clothes. He was hard—Flash had seen men hung like Steph before in pornos, but he never thought the average guy might be hung like that.

Celestia was already out of her dress. Flash could see that she hadn't worn panties (just like he'd suspected), and she kneeled on the edge of the bed with her chest thrust out and still trapped in the confines of her lace bra.

Bras were puzzles. Flash had seen them make a chest out of flatness, carefully contain truly massive bosoms, and every single one seemed impossible to remove without a degree in fashion. He gulped, eyes locked on Steph's left hand as the man reached behind Celestia's back and unfastened the garment.

"There're my girls. Hello, babes, wanna kiss?"

Celestia tipped her head back and, for a brief moment, made eye contact with Flash. She looked hungry, happy, and excited to him. She looked a touch curious, too—before her face distorted and she moaned at the oral attention her breasts received.

It was a porno. That was the only way Flash could explain what he saw. There wasn't much foreplay, mostly Steph reaching a hand between Celestia's legs to make her cry out more, before removing them, forcing Celestia to her back, and shoving into her like a rutting beast.

Flash couldn't look away from the main event before him. Every thrust, every change in position, and every mark Celestia drew on Steph's skin with her nails seemed part of a whole—and he had to watch it. No. He wanted to watch it.

He ached, now. Flash's boi-clit was still trapped in the prison that seemed two sizes too small. He clutched his hands into little fists in his skirts until his knuckles were white—or so he thought, since he literally couldn't look away.

Steph was like a machine: a big, strong, masculine, thrusting machine. Flash couldn't take his eyes off the pair. Straining in his cage, he wanted nothing more than his own release, but knew he wasn't going to get it.

Then, as if the show he was getting needed a big finish, Steph started to buck his hips even harder, even faster, drawing a long and constant moan from Celestia that broke her voice as she screamed in pleasure.

While Flash stared in shock and arousal, Steph grunted like a bull as he climaxed, hips hammering hard against Celestia's flesh—making clapping sounds to accompany their voices.

But, like all such things, the shouts and moans became sighs and pants. The rapid and animalistic motions stilled and both Celestia and Steph were left heaving on the bed, coasting in their respective releases. Flash, however, was not so lucky.

With his knuckles clenched in the folds of his dress, Flash was panting softly at what he'd just seen. Celestia had acknowledged him every now and again during the big event, even if with casual glances that never lingered long, but Steph had completely ignored him being there.

The wordless tableau held for some minutes. Flash couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, his mind skipping through the fresh memories and ensuring they would be seared into his brain for a long time.

"Better get ready for round two, stud." Celestia was first to speak, first to move, and first to run to the bathroom.

Steph sat up and watched Celestia as she left, his eyes fixated on her hips. "Maid?"

It took Flash a moment to realize he was talking to him and, if he'd had cat ears, they would have perked up at the word. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"I need you to clean something." Steph swung his leg over the side of the bed, then the other. Flash could see all of him from his toes to the top of his head—and every bit between. His member was growing more and more flaccid by the moment, a pendulous, masculine, sticky mess.

It took a moment for Flash to register the meaning, but when he did his brain almost short circuited. Climbing quickly to his feet, he walked over to the bed without any idea what to actually do.

"Down there. You'll probably want to be on your knees for this job, little lady." Steph gestured with one hand, casually, to his penis.

"Yes, sir." Flash wasn't sure how to react, so went with unsure maid. Lowering himself down into a curtsey, he kept going down and let his dress cushion his knees as they came to rest on the floor. Now, situated between Steph's legs, Flash had one big sight to feast his eyes on.

"Need to be ready for her when she's back, so don't be afraid to use a little tongue."

Flash nodded his head and leaned forward. With one hand he reached up and carefully cradled Steph's member, thumb underneath and fingers carefully guiding it and lining it up for him. His fantasies in high school had never been this intense.

Ignoring all his little worries, Flash reminded himself that he'd practiced this. Luna had been his teacher, and she'd been most enthusiastic about teaching him how to handle a penis, how to love it, how to treat it as the precious tool of pleasure it was. He'd started with one of her dildos and finally worked up to "satisfying" her while she wore a strap-on.

This was nothing like that—this was a real penis.

Closing his eyes, Flash kissed the tip of Steph's shaft, then carefully leaned in a little more so that the length parted his lips and turned the kiss into a blow-job. A big hand rested on the top of Flash's head, Steph's fingers carefully brushing at his hair and tickling the top of one of his ears.

The gentleness worked for Flash. This was a cute little fantasy and Steph was letting him live it out. He was Celestia's maid, willing to step in and take care of any messy duties for her—like getting her boyfriend hard for another round of wild sex. Fantasies, Flash reminded himself, were so much fun to actually live out. Though this particular one he hadn't exactly fantasized about before about ten minutes prior.

"There's a good girl. You got the hang o' this." Steph's words were like deep, liquid honey. They rained down on Flash while he suckled and nuzzled at Steph's shaft, adding a warm mental flavor to the cum and femme juices he was dining on. The smell, too, was something else.

Flash, forced to inhale and exhale through his nose, was being fed hefty lungfuls of sex scented air. It permeated him, making his boi-clit throb all the worse. Everything in the world seemed to fall away as he worked the thick shape in his mouth. He was careful not to graze Steph with his teeth, but one thing eluded him—Flash couldn't take all of it.

Steph, as if sensing this, didn't seem interested in ramming Flash's head down to his groin. Instead, only the gentlest of guiding was delivered to Flash.

The longer the blowjob went, the harder Flash could feel Steph get. It was a mark of pride to Flash that he had the guy ready again after what he considered to be one of the more epic sex acts he'd ever seen, but here he was with Steph's tip at the back of his mouth, swirling his tongue along the hard length to keep him ready.

"That'll do, little lady, your mistress is back." Steph gently but firmly guided Flash's head back from him, revealing his rigid member to the air again. Turning his head to look up at Celestia, who'd stepped into the room, Steph grinned. "Your maid is being right-helpful, ma'am."

"She is a little darling, isn't she? Fleur, dear, I believe I can handle this from here." Celestia gave Flash a winning smile that made his insides flutter.

Getting up, bobbing his head to both of them, Flash retreated to the side of the room to kneel again. He had even more to think about this time as Celestia rolled Steph onto his back. He was vaguely aware of watching his mommy riding Steph reverse-cowgirl while Steph's hands clung to her thighs—his own hips bucking up to meet her each time she came down.

No. Flash was distracted by the taste in his mouth. It was nothing like the salty-sweet taste of his own cum—that he'd tasted in moments of intense curiosity—it was a different ball game altogether. The musky taste of Steph's seed was not all that far removed from his memories, though it was far stronger, but the addition of his mommy's arousal made it a far more potent cocktail.

A warm, oozing trickle down his thigh confused Flash for a moment. Living out his fantasy, it was a trickle of feminine fluids—his mind refusing to recognize it as the pre-cum spilling from his panties that it actually was.

Flash was so distracted by the flavor and fantasy that he missed when Celestia leaned sideways off Steph and the guy, holding one of her legs up in the air, took over the primary role again.

"Fleur? Dear?"

Hearing his mommy call his name yanked Flash back to the present. She was on her side and being railed by Steph, still. "Mommy?"

"Come over here, Fleur, I want—Oh ffff—" Eyes locked with his, Celestia looked like she'd just hit her peak again.

Slowly getting to his feet, Flash felt unsure as he approached. His mommy was going through something intense and didn't look like she was able to finish her request.

Steph let out a deep groan, and Flash watched him bucking his hips hard against Celestia again.

"Come here, sweetie." With his mommy reaching out to him, and asking for him, Flash had no fears or worries about climbing up on the bed with her.

Strong arms wrapped around Flash and he was tugged firmly against Celestia's tummy. She was warm, a little sticky in places, but then under his dress—under his panties and the liner—Flash was sticky too. Reaching up, he pulled himself to her with all his boi-ish might and rested his cheek against one of her breasts.

Author's Note

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