Fire in the Dressing Room

by Steel Quill

Rating: mature
Tags: Limestone Pie, Sex, Spitfire, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Porn, Fetish
Length: 4573

Spitfire is tired of her exhausting show schedule. Her marefriend might be able to help loosen her up a bit.

When you're a hardworking, high flying, top of the line Captain of the Wonderbolts, it can take a lot to knock you down. In Spitfire's case, she's just about to fall down from a demanding week of shows, public appearances, and an exhausting manager who just won't quit smiling. But before she knocks his sunglasses off with a well-placed hoof-punch, Spitfire can find some solace in a special somepony few could have imagined her having. But for all her rough spots, she seems to get right into Spitfire's tender areas the best.

Kinks/tags: F x F, Feral ponies, dressing room shenanigans, cunnilingus, 69, sex toy use, suggestive ending.

Written for Vinyl Snatch as a part of the Summer Sin Celebration! Edited by NotaPonyPerson!

Published 2021-07-24 13:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-24 13:00:02 UTC

Fire in the Dressing Room

The roar of the audience rang in her ears, even as Spitfire made her way through the access tunnel to exit the arena. It had been a successful show; the stunts had been in line from beginning to end, the music on point. The crowd had been so amped up, security had to work overtime to make sure everypony was kept to the safety barriers. If there was one way to get a bad mark on performance, it was the sight of a fan getting an unexpected strike in the face from a hoof traveling at high speed. But everything had gone according to plan. Soarin had even managed to pull off an encore show of a spectacular dive stunt that had left everypony’s heart hammering by the time he pulled up just inches from the ground.

‘So if everything went so great,’ Spitfire asked herself as she moved through the tunnel towards her dressing room, ‘why does it feel like I’m just getting jerked on a chain?’

The grey concrete walls only made her hoofsteps echo while she walked. The suit was feeling tight on her skin now. Well, it was always tight, but now after being whipped through wind and powerful g-force speed, it felt especially constricting. A compulsory tug on the front zipper loosened its grip a hair, a tuft of yellow fur exposing itself from behind the confines of the wingsuit. She was often caught in the curious duality of loving to fly without the suit on, to feel the wind on her fur and run through her mane; yet she couldn’t make a living without confining herself so.

“Spitfire! Babe!” The all too enthusiastic voice snapped her from her introspective thoughts and etched a tired frown into the pegasus’ face. Up ahead was another pegasus, silver coated and never without a pair of sunglasses. The wide grin on his face irritated Spitfire, but she swallowed the urge to curse and kept her calm as best she could. “What a performance! What a show! You had them eating out of your hooves!”

“A Wonderbolt will do what they gotta do. And we come to entertain.” She replied, running a hoof along her windswept mane. The darn thing always needed work to come down after a show. “Keeps those paychecks coming, doesn’t it, Zap Wire?”

“It sure does! My phone’s been abuzz all afternoon. They’re wanting to book you for another tour of shows after this one!”

Spitfire winced. “Zap, we’re supposed to have a break after this show. You gotta give us downtime or we’ll burn out or worse, crash mid-show.”

“Gotta strike when the anvil’s hot, Spitsy!”

“I’ve told you, it’s Spitfire.” She huffed. “Look, can we discuss schedules later? I’m bushed. I need some downtime.”

Wire opened his mouth to retort, and Spitfire wished almost to just shove her hoof into his maw to cut him off. He was the cause of a lot of wear on the team lately: back-to-back shows, public appearances, media deals. He was keeping the Wonderbolts in an active spotlight, but running them like Diamond Dogs hitting paydirt. Before he could try to say anything though, a crash of doors opening from down the hall made them both turn to look.

“Spitfire! Spitfire!”

“She went this way! If we’re quick, we might get a photo!”

“I NEED to touch her WINGS!”

Zap was left in Spitfire’s wake as she dashed into her dressing room and closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure and even propping a chair to help brace it. The flare of adrenaline had her listening with rapt terror as the stampede of hooves ran by the room, making her hold her breath before the hoofsteps faded away. Keeping her room unmarked was a wise choice, she realized, in order to avoid a rabid fanbase. They carried on - hopefully dragging Zap with them - and left the Wonderbolt Captain to her own devices after a short period of cautious quiet.

“Oh, thank Luna’s stars.'' Spitfire sighed out. With a tired groan, the mare undid the rest of her wingsuit and tossed it aside on a nearby chair. The dressing room itself was a little sparse, but still, a space for herself. There was a plush couch to crash upon, which had her flop onto it in a heap of fatigue. Across from the sofa were a small vanity table, a mirror, and various cosmetic tools at the ready if she’d sought to use them. Seeing the display when they’d arrived had made her roll her eyes. They were still unused, save for a spare mane brush she’d borrowed to at least try something for herself. When your attire for a show is a suit that covers every aspect of your figure save your eyes and face, there isn’t much to really try and fix up. If it was a date night later, well, maybe then.

A mini-fridge was next to the sofa, which she was able to reach out to and dig out a water bottle. She chugged a third of the chilled water down before resting the bottle against her forehead. The cool sensation was a balm, and it allowed Spitfire to finally remove herself from the ever-vigilant Wonderbolt Captain mindset she wore in public, to just be Spitfire again. Again, the yearning for relief struck at her soul. She wasn’t of a spirit to care at that moment about the negative consequences of delaying a tour; she was only a mortal mare. She had wants and needs like anypony else.

A knock at her door made her stop and clutch at the bottle, holding it up in a throwing position if whoever was there tried to barge in. If it was a simple staff worker, they’d get a pass. If it was a rabid fan who somehow deduced where her dressing room was, they might get the bottle.

If it was Zap Wire, she was chucking the entire fridge at him.

“Coast’s clear out here. Those prancing ponies you call fans all ran off after Soarin I think.” The gruff female voice made Spitfire sit up.

“Limey?”

“Who else would it be? C’mon, let me in.”

“Prove it first.”

“Oh come on, Spitsy.”

“I told you before, it’s Spitfire.”

“Yeah? You sure were spitting fire out your rump out there.”

The pegasus couldn’t help but snort and moved the chair out of the door’s way but didn’t undo the lock yet. “What’s something only Limestone would say?”

“That your manager can blow his sunglasses through and out his pampered, spoiled ass?”

Spitfire snickered and opened the door, ushering in a smaller earth pony mare into the room before closing it and locking it again. The grey-toned mare took one look about the dressing room and huffed. “What, the budget couldn’t afford a rug on the floor?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Limey.”

Limestone Pie was an interesting enigma thrown into the Captain’s life. Some months ago, the security roster for the Wonderbolt shows got updated with some fresh meat after a few members had swapped work for other avenues in life. Most of the applicants were pegasi, but Limestone Pie stood out for more reasons than just being an earth pony. She was gruff. She took no BS from anypony, not Spitfire or her managers. If anything, getting to beat back aggressive fans or troublemakers seemed to be her whole drive in the job. At first, Spitfire and her clashed on several things. Arrangements for security detail at public events. Who would be escorted by who when out on travel.

Things did come to a head during one grueling summer where Spitfire had had enough of Limestone’s sass. The shouting match between the two was kept behind a dressing room that was soundproofed ahead of time, the only hint of aggression to the outside being how Spitfire had slammed the door shut on everypony else while keeping herself and Limestone in together. Words were shared. Emotions vented. Admissions made. The next Spitfire could think about it, she was in a heap of sweat and arousal with Limestone’s smaller frame draped over hers, a sense of relief and satisfaction coursing from her core and throughout her figure.

To describe their relationship was difficult with words. But there was trust between them. An understanding from one mare of independence to another. They didn’t need the other to make their own mark. But they complemented one another. Spitfire had the experience and confidence to stand out from others, but Limestone had the brash nature and self-assurance to get anypony to look at her and listen. If she’d had wings and an urge for showmanship, she could’ve been a good addition to the team. When she didn’t grind at Spitfire’s nerves.

“I’m just saying, I’d want something soft for myself after that show. I’m surprised you’re still walking.”

“Wrong. Sitting. Laying down, even.” Spitfire quipped before laying on the sofa again. “Crucial difference.”

“Hmph. Maybe they outta give me wings just to give you a break. You’re about two steps away from collapsing.” Limestone observed.

“I’d lend you mine, but I like mine. Just...oh, fuck,” Spitfire swore as she stretched her forelegs out and the satisfying pop they made had her nearly go limp, “I dunno. Go ask one of the rookies, maybe?”

“Could. But that’s a lot of effort, and frankly, I like yours better. More flashy.” She replied with a grin. Spitfire took one look at her face and chuckled. “You look like you just got done with the after-show without all the show.”

“You say the nicest things, Limey.”

“He’s been riding you pretty hard, hasn’t he?”

She knew who Limestone was asking about. “You can tell, can’t you? Aren’t you tired from all the road trips?”

“Earth ponies like me get used to travel. Unlike you flashy winged types, we have to walk or ride everywhere.” Limestone replied. “Though I’m sure Zap would do well with shoving those flashy sunglasses up his ass.”

Spitfire laughed, rolling onto her back to better observe Limestone. The mare’s smaller frame belied the strength she carried within. A long time of labor at her family’s rock farm, as she understood things, had given her plenty of grit and might to spare in the compact body she had. The short-style mane she kept framed her face and highlighted the way her apple-green eyes would stare at you. Or glare, if you got her in a bad mood. She’d had her share of both, and both had their attractions.

“If you had any hoof in that, I’d pay to watch that show.”

Limestone snorted and approached Spitfire’s position, standing beside the prone mare. It was brief, but there was a look of concern that crossed the earth mare’s features for a moment. It was just for Spitfire to see like she’d seen before when it was just the two of them.

“I just...don’t like him fucking you over. The team as well, but you more importantly,” Limestone declared., “No one gets to do that and get away with it.”

It was an oddly affectionate thing to hear from Limestone, if in her own unique way. The brash mare had a way of showing she cared in ways others would take offense to. But Spitfire was a sharper mare than most. It was that same mental acuity that seemed to catch onto something as an idea formed in her head. An idea that recognized how good it was that Limestone had locked the dressing room and it wasn’t marked with any signage to tell the world Spitfire was there.

They were alone.

“Well, not a lot. But,” Spitfire started before catching Limestone’s hoof and pulling on it to make the grey-toned mare fall over onto her. Her weight wasn’t rough on top of Spitfire’s durable frame, and she smiled at Limestone’s perplexed expression, “I might let you get away with it. Right here.”

Color surged into Limestone’s cheeks as Spitfire embraced her with her wings, a practiced gesture managed thanks to her impressive wingspan and flexibility. It never failed to charm the earth pony, and she spoke up after getting her bearings, subconsciously snuggling into the embrace the yellow-orange limbs gave.

“You’re serious? Here? Now?”

“I’ve spent the better part of this week being fucked by my schedule, my manager’s bossy attitude, obstacle courses, and a never-ending fanbase,” Spitfire told her before raising an eyebrow, “but if I want to get fucked? I think you’re the best option for it.”

Limestone looked to protest, but seeing Spitfire’s expression, seemed to reconsider her position. “So assuming I go along with this,” she said as she rubbed the pegasus’ chest slowly, grey wandering amidst the bright yellow, “does that mean I’m on top for once?”

“You can be. If you can keep on top.”

“I’ll make you eat those words.”

“You could eat something else instead, you know.”

“Show-off.”

“Loudmouth.”

The staredown only lasted for a few seconds before Limestone gave in and kissed her square on the lips, hard and demanding. Spitfire met the mare’s efforts at every level, continuing to hold her with her wings and savoring the embrace of the earth pony’s forelegs around her middle. Even a kiss from Limestone was semi-competitive, her desire to make her mark prominent but also demonstrating her possessive nature. The fact that it was directed at the captain only added more fuel to the waking fire inside her.

Hooves wandered along Limestone’s frame beneath her wings, exploring the lithe yet muscled limbs holding onto the pegasus before finding her shoulders, passing over them to explore the slope of her back. Spitfire’s touch seemed to push Limestone on, breaking the kiss they’d been holding before diving back in with a quick breath. The kisses devolved into a make-out session that had Spitfire wondering just how much lust Limestone had been keeping bottled up inside her. The wandering tongue she’d invaded Spitfire’s mouth with was quick, nimble, searching for the pegasus’ own and weaving itself around it in an almost tender but desiring way that had her hind legs twitching.

But Spitfire had plenty of her own experience to draw on with Limestone. It was this experience that let her hoof travel down to the lower expanse of her back, caressing the firm left plot cheek she had before giving it a light smack with her hoof. It evoked a surprised gasp from Limestone, whose face flushed from the impact and the sound that left her.

“H-hey!”

“Hey,” Spitfire said back, grinning before giving her plot another swat. Limestone groaned before she dove down and nipped at Spitfire’s neck, making her tilt her head to give her better access. She loved it when the earth pony took to that spot, and from the way she was licking and nibbling, she intended to make sure she left a sign that she'd been there. Hickies weren’t the usual style for Spitfire, but for Limestone, she made an exception.

“Yeah...c’mon, Limey,” Spitfire sighed out, tail shifting left and right against the sofa as they continued to enjoy one another. Toying with her would-be lover’s cute butt wouldn’t be enough for right now. She needed to get things to move forward. So while Limestone was distracted with her neck, the pegasus took advantage of her reach to go under Limestone’s body and cupped her hoof against her opening.

Spitfire’s eyebrow rose as Limestone stopped moving to moan into her neck. She was actually already fairly wet. The cool liquid dripped onto Spitfire’s hoof as she stroked along her marehood, petting it gently and making her moan all the more. “Been a while for you, hasn’t it?”

“L-Las Pegasus. You...dingus,” Limestone let out in a shuddered breath, “after your big military show.”

“Oh, yeah...man. Poor thing’s not seen action since then,” Spitfire remarked before smirking, “maybe I can fix that. If you can stand letting go for a few seconds.”

“Tell that to your wings.” Limestone huffed, moving enough that Spitfire could see her flushed cheeks. “It’s almost like you missed me or something.”

“Turn around,” Spitfire instructed, needing only a moment to wait after letting go of Limestone’s body. Her wings felt a little cooler without the warm body between them, but the sensation was put aside as Limestone’s rump was presented before her. The grey-toned mare kept her tail cut short, meaning the usual practiced means of hiding herself from onlookers did little good from Spitfire’s vantage. She could make out the swollen, inviting lips of her pussy, and brought a hoof up to tug one side and expose the yearning depths beyond.

“H-hey!” Limestone’s protest was lost when Spitfire’s other hoof came up and toyed with her more, poking into her pussy with the tip of her hoof before dragging down and around. She purposely went slow on her first pass, to enjoy seeing Limestone shiver above her. Working her up always was a thrill for the pegasus. She pressed into her again and was rewarded with a wet hoof for her efforts.

Needing little more encouragement than that, the captain took hold of both plot cheeks and brought Limestone’s body down onto hers again, only now with her muzzle squarely planted into the grey mare’s nethers. The taste of her flooded her senses as her tongue shot into her, parting her folds and pressing deep into her yearning pussy. Limestone’s quickened breathing was music to Spitfire’s ears, and she smiled into her licking efforts before raising her tongue up to caress the roof of Limestone’s pussy.

“Y-you - oh - frickin’ arrogant...fuck, don’t stop,” Limestone moaned out, the complaints adrift in a sea of pleasure. The grey mare might’ve insisted on being on top, but there was always a way for Spitfire to snatch a grip on the proverbial wheel. Her hooves squeezed and played with her plot cheeks, her grip keeping the earth pony in place while she used her tongue to stimulate her further. Plenty of practice had been employed before Limestone came along, and it worked wonders on the lustful mare.

What she hadn’t expected was to feel the mare’s body lean down, and for a surge of electric pleasure to work its way up her spine and through her torso. Where Spitfire had refined technique, Limestone brought roughness and energy to the table. Her tongue dove deep into Spitfire’s snatch, making the pegasus arch her back a little before groaning in approval into her lover’s marehood. Left and right, back and forth, she did her best to try and outdo Spitfire’s efforts. Always so competitive, but it endeared Limestone to her. When Spitfire would try to tighten her grip on Limestone’s plot, the earth pony would press on her thighs, spreading her hind legs further apart and giving her more room to work.

The wet sounds of their tongue-work mixed in with their moans filled the room, Spitfire letting herself be awash in the surreal feeling of eating out and being eaten out. It was a sensation she could relax with, the pleasure washing away the fatigue and wear she’d been enduring all this time. Limestone’s taste was far apart from any sports drink or alcohol she’d ever had, and it was something she never tired of either. The way she could feel her body shake every time she touched a good spot or brushed her winking clit with a deft flick of the tongue, only heightened the fun. If she could keep her going at her own pussy long enough, they’d both have plenty to drink.

So one could imagine Spitfire’s confusion when her treat suddenly hoisted itself up from her vantage, equally denying her treat and cutting off the pleasurable tonguing her cunt had been enjoying. She took a moment to get her breath, not even bothered in the slightest with how wet her muzzle and chin were with the stains of Limestone’s juices.

“What? Did you hear something?”

“N-no. Just had to...I want to do something. For you.”

It was the way Limestone said it - cheeks burning, eyes cast aside, tail tucked down despite her arousal - that made Spitfire immediately curious.

“You were doing something if it wasn’t clear. It was really really good too.” Spitfire replied.

“No shit,” Limestone replied before getting up, if on shaky legs, before going to the nearby door. Spitfire stayed in place, watching as Limestone picked up her nightstick and brought it back over to the sofa. Curiosity kept Spitfire’s tongue in her cheek while she watched Limestone fiddle with one end of the tool. It unscrewed and came undone relatively easily. Sliding the black length down, Spitfire’s eyes widened in surprise as the earth pony revealed a hidden dildo, colored the same style as the nightstick but made of a flexible material that she could see it curve and move with every odd motion of her forehoof.

“Are you telling me you’ve been hiding a dildo up your nightstick this whole time?”

“When I tell those pricks out there I’m here to fuck them up if they mess with me, I mean really fuck them up.” Limestone replied, an almost wicked grin on her lips. “Besides, it’s useful for moments like...well. These.”

“So you’re telling me you planned for this.”

“You told me you wanted to be fucked. Your words, Captain Firebutt.”

Spitfire snorted but grinned up at the earth pony. “Well then,” she started before laying on her back again, only now spreading her hind legs and her wings in a fashion that left nothing of her body to Limestone’s imagination. A sense of satisfaction filled Spitfire’s mind in seeing Limestone zero in on her barrel, then trailing down to the marehood she’d been eating out only moments before. The dildo twitched a little in her hoof as her foreleg twitched in anticipation.

“It’s clean. Won’t be when I’m done with you.” Limestone noted.

“Useful and kinky. Nice combination.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Combinations, sure. Kinkiness, well, I could always show you later.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

The proverbial challenge got the earth mare to finally move, and she was on her in a heartbeat. Limestone always did need the right kind of push, Spitfire noted, but maybe she pushed a bit much this time when she found herself gasping as the toy prodded her soaked entrance. With how much she was prepped for it, it was little work to slide it into her waiting depths, spreading her walls and making her clutch around the toy as she worked it deeper and deeper into her.

She could see Limestone grinning victoriously as she paused for a moment, making Spitfire get her wits about her enough to see the earth pony clamber on top of the sofa with her. Only when she started rocking her hips against the base of the toy did Spitfire talk again, but only enough to manage a moan as Limestone worked the toy into her further. She rested once she was pressed up against her lap, chest to chest, staring into the captain’s eyes.

“I bet those so-called wonderbolt studs of yours can’t do it this well.”

“They might surprise you. Y’know, If you were into them.”

Limestone scoffed. “They couldn’t keep up with me. They can barely keep up with you, even.”

“I’m the best for a reason, Limey.” Spitfire had more to add on, but it was lost as Limestone shifted and straddled one leg of Spitfire’s, reaching down with a foreleg to grip the toy wedged inside her and starting to work it back and forth. Working in tandem with her, Spitfire would rock her body to try and get the dildo deeper inside her, moaning freely as she let the pleasure wash over her. Before she could get too vocal, Limestone was kissing her again, tongue catching her off guard as another element to contend with.

This was what Spitfire had been yearning for: forget the press conferences, forget the shows, forget asshole managers; getting to let go and just enjoy this pleasure with Limestone did the job for her. She kissed her back, groaning into her partner’s maw while the toy hammered itself into her, driven by the mare’s steady hoof. The flame had been dimming a little in the lull between acts, but now it was roaring back to life and fast. It was surging almost too fast; Spitfire could feel it building in her core like a knot, and tried to push it down to ride this sensation out longer.

Limestone seemed to sense this and sped up her motions, growling almost into her partner’s mouth as the dildo hammered into her pussy. The wet sounds of her lips clinging and squeezing the toy while it worked itself in and out filled Spitfire’s ears. ‘Just...a little more...a little more…’

The mental chant failed her a few seconds later, Spitfire tensing up her entire body as her wings extended out. It rushed through her from head to hind hooves, making her give a series of shuddering gasps and moans that only Limestone knew of late. She never stopped working the toy in and out of her, the black surface gleaming with her juices as she squirted around it and onto the sofa under them. The wet sensation on her leg told her plenty of how much Limestone was enjoying the display, and Spitfire threw her head back to collapse on the sofa, breathing deeply as the ecstasy wound down.

Limestone stopped her efforts, but only when the toy was fully buried into Spitfire. It was a comforting sensation of a sort, a filling feeling that was complimented in how she could roll over and lean into Limestone’s form. She was ready for her, holding her to her smaller frame with ease. When the pegasus had her breath back again, she looked up to Limestone’s green eyes and chuckled.

“What? You haven’t gone all loopy on me, have you?” The earth pony asked.

“No. Just glad you’re here. Real glad.” Spitfire replied, leaning her head up to kiss Limestone’s chin. The mare blushed, which tickled the pegasus’ humor given she’d just spent the past little while pleasuring her like a deviant.

“If you’re that glad, maybe you can help me out too?”

Spitfire brought her focus down to where Limestone was still grinding up against her leg. She was soaked. The earth pony had yet to get her own climax, and as this comprehension dawned on Spitfire, a surge of excitement filled her body. It was a similar excitement to the start of a show, only now, it was one she was personally looking forward to.

Limestone’s muzzle scrunched up as Spitfire had her lay back against the back of the sofa, her eyes widening as Spitfire toyed with their dildo and worked it to where the front two-thirds of it were sticking out from her pussy, the base of it wedged squarely into her marehood and held in place with all the might of an athletic mare like herself.

“Spitsy?”

“Round two, Limey.”

Author's Note

This is my Summer Sin gift to one Vinyl Snatch. A little outside of my wheelhouse, but I hope you enjoy the story. I had fun making this work, as original pairings like this always keep things interesting. Until next time!