The alcohol made Pinkie’s brain spin like a roulette wheel; fitting, since she found herself in the mood to gamble away her peace of mind.
She wasn’t the only pony drunk at the Grand Galloping Gala, of course. Inevitably there would be some sober ponies, of course, but the vast majority of the attendants — particularly those attempting to look imperiously dignified — were at least a drink or three beyond sobriety. Then there were the barely-disguised sots and wastrels using their ill-gotten tickets or tenuous connections to exploit the opportunity and justify enough consumption to severely impair their ability to walk home afterwards.
And then there was her. By all accounts, she should be dead twice over, and she was just barely inebriated enough to appreciate that fact. Perks of being Ponyville’s Premeir Party Pony: the amount of havoc that she could put herself through without any trouble was enough to make any chemist’s head spin. Her head felt as still and lifeless as an abandoned top, though; a speck of color amidst a vast stretch of floor, nothing more.
Not that her friends noticed, but she couldn’t blame them. Twilight and Rarity were mingling as if their jobs depended on it, which they did: Rarity was always in need of contracts and contractors to expand her Carousel franchise, and Twilight was a princess, with all the social acknowledgements and discussions of Equestria’s affairs that entailed. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were off to the side of the ballroom, trying as hard as they could to dance and succeeding as much as two ponies with no formal training and little experience were capable of. Fluttershy, of course, was with Discord, and while their wild gait technically followed a pattern not entirely dissimilar to a swing dance, the troupe of discord copies acting as backup dancers and bandstand of rubber hose creatures accompanying them were doing a good enough job of drawing the crowd’s attention away from her.
Oh, sure, she could probably get the crowd back if she wanted. A better pinkie — a happier, perkier, Pinkie-er Pinkie — might have done it. But this swirly-brained, drink-flooded pinkie wanted…
What did she want?
A poofy mane. Sparkling eyes. A brilliant, unfettered smile.
Pinkie shook her head, brushing the thoughts aside. They wouldn’t do her any good now. Ponyville’s Premeir Party Pony wasn’t supposed to feel silly about…
No. Bad Pinkie. Very bad not-good gloomy pants Pinkie Pie, Pinkie chided herself. Sucking down a slightly desperate mouthful of air, she looked around, desperate to find somepony who wasn’t busy - somepony who wasn’t serving drinks or staring at Discord’s spectacle or chatting about business or whatall else. There had to be somepony here that was alone, like her. Somepony that would be fun to talk to.
After a couple of seconds of scanning the crowd, Pinkie found her answer. The answer may not have been somepony, but it was close enough. Putting on what she hoped was a happy enough smile, Pinkie pushed her drink aside, weaved through a couple of overdressed patrons and trotted over to Equestria’s most eligible bachelor.
“Hi, Spike!”
Spike looked up at - scratch that, looked down at Pinkie. It hadn’t been that long ago when she could rub the top of his head without reaching up, had it? Just a couple of years for sure; three, at the absolute super duper most. But these days, he’d probably be the one rubbing her head. It was hard to believe that he’d get even bigger…
Spike’s square, chisled jaw broke out into an almost comically broad smile. “Hey, Pinkie?”
“How’re you liking the party?” Pinkie tilted her head towards the throng.
“Well, uh…” Spike tilted his head in the opposite direction towards Twilight, the gaggle of delegates and politicians lined up to greet her and the significantly larger gaggle of delegates and politicians in a separate line, still hoping to discuss affairs with her after she had finished greeting everycreature else.
“...Been making sure that those guys don’t try to cut in line or bother Twilight too much.”
“Whaaaaat?” Pinkie gasped. “You mean you haven’t been able to enjoy all the yummy scrumptious treats and dance to all the amazing songs and enjoy this super amazing once-in-a-yeartime party?”
Spike chuckled. “I mean, there’s gonna be one next year! Really, I don’t mind sitting this year out.”
“Oooooooh, but I do mind!” Pinkie huffed, reaching over and grabbing Spike’s hand—
Had his grip always been that strong? Pinkie blinked, gaze slowing on its ascent from Spike’s hand to his head and lingering over his arm. Had he always been that muscular? He looked like he could break a boulder by pushing his bicep against it and flexing.
“Pinkie?”
Pinkie blinked. Spike was staring down at her, hand still clasped around her hoof, looking confused and mildly uncomfortable. “Uh?”
“Is something wrong?”
“Well...I just figured you’d want to dance!” Pinkie forced a smile on her face again and gave his hand a light tug. “Or sing, or...something!”
“I mean, uh...I don’t have to? I know it’d be fun, but—”
“Spike?”
Pinkie and Spike turned towards Twilight Sparkle, who had a hoof held up in front of one of her guests and a wry smile on her face.
“You know that you don’t have to help me out this entire night, right?” Twilight chuckled. “I already told you that you’re allowed to join the festivities if you want to. I’ll be fine.”
Spike fidgeted uncomfortably. “But...but…”
Pinkie let go. Her apprehension drained away as Spike looked increasingly uncomfortable, tossing glances back towards the ballroom and back towards Twilight. Abruptly, Spike straightened up, puffed out his chest, and blurted out in his most official, deep voice:
“Igottagoseeiftherestofthecastleisokay!”
With a speed belied by his bulky frame, Spike bolted for a door with an “off limits” sign, body-checked the door open and sprinted out of sight. Inside the ballroom, the party carried on in full swing; in the front hall, everypony’s expressions turned to blank stares, their conversations turned to shocked silence.
Then, without prompting, Pinkie followed after him, shutting the door behind her.
It wasn’t hard to follow the sound of Spike’s heavy footsteps. It was, however, further than Pinkie was expecting; turns followed twists, and more twists followed those turns, until finally Pinkie skittered into a room full of towering bookshelves illuminated only by the moonlight cast faintly through a nearby window.
“Spike?”
A hulking mass, half-covered in shadow, turned towards her. In the gloom, he looked almost intimidating: a muscular enigma with a figure that could easily overpower her.
“Hey, Pinkie” Spike replied, voice cracking slightly.
Any vestiges of silliness in Pinkie’s spirit snuffed themselves. There she stared at Spike as he stepped back into the moonlight, highlighting the dragon’s intimidating figure and a glum expression that was anything but.
“Spikey-Wikey?” Pinkie replied. “Is everything okay?”
“No. Yes. It should be. I don’t know.” Spike sighed and sat down. Pinkie was briefly struck by how, back in the day, he practically would have been curled into a ball; but here, in his maturity and his developed body, his attempts at physical vulnerability looked awkward. “I know I should be out there. I know it would be a lot of fun. I know that nopony would mind if I enjoyed myself…”
“Except you?”
Spike nodded.
“Why?”
Spike stared at Pinkie. “...Do you know what it’s like when you can’t stop thinking about something you haven’t done, and—”
“Yeah!”
Spike blinked. Pinkie stopped, blushed and covered her mouth.
“You, uh…” Spike faltered, scratching his cheek. “You have?”
“I mean, um…”
“It’s okay if—”
“I know! It’s just...blugh. Ugh! I’m being the worst sort of party pony right now! The gloomy doomy un-fun kind!” Pinkie moaned. “I know that’s not who you want to talk to right now.”
“Actually, um…” Spike uncurled and scooted closer. “It kind of is. If you don’t mind.”
“We-ll, it’s...um. Uh.” Pinkie tried to force on an even brighter smile. Spike’s subsequent unimpressed eyebrow arch made her feigned cheer wither away to nothingness.
“There’s a pony. With sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile. And I feel like...I talk to him all the time, but I feel like what I want to talk about isn’t something I can ever get myself to talk about. And I feel like such a silly pony for not being able to say it, but the idea of actually saying it…”
Spike splayed his legs out on the floor and supported himself with his arms. “Sounds like a crush to me.”
“Yeah.” Pinkie trotted over to Spike and sat down next to him. “But for years and years.”
“Cheese Sandwich?”
Pinkie’s face went a brilliant red. “How did you...?”
“I didn’t, but...I mean, you work with him, you spend a lot of time with him. Ponies used to think that I have a crush on Twilight since I kept hanging out with her after, you know…” Spike flexed a bicep, and Pinkie could practically see his sinews gleaming in the moonlight. “I grew up.”
“Oh.” Pinkie giggled nervously. “I see.”
“But yeah, I know what you mean.” Spike sighed. “It’s...I know that I shouldn’t be stuck on things, but when I see Rarity…”
“Aww, does my little Spikey-Wikey still have feelings for her?” Pinkie said, leaning over in an attempt to pat Spike’s thigh.
Emphasis on attempt. In the dark broken only by moonlight, with a dragon whose body was radically different since she first met him, Pinkie missed his thigh by accident and plunged her warm, supple hoof between Spike’s legs.
Both of them froze. Neither spoke. Seconds ticked by in the gloom, but mutual surprise kept them frozen in place.
And the tension only broke when something between Spike’s legs pressed back.
“Ah!” Spike gasped, face flushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Pinkie sat there, unable to speak, warm hoof still pressed around an increasingly firm prodding in the dragon’s nethers. Then, abruptly, she chuckled.
“Spikey-wikey, it’s okay.”
“I...huh?” Spike sputtered.
“There’s nothing wrong with getting excited about...I mean, it’s a guy thing! When a mare’s hoof, you know...or her mouth, or her butt…”
“I-I mean, I know! I know that!” Spike gulped. “B-but, um...Pinkie, why is your...why are you…?”
“Accident,” Pinkie squeaked. “I Pinkie Pie Swear. I was trying to...I wanted to pat your thigh. Um, r-reassuringly. Like good ol’ Auntie Pinkie would. But I...I missed.”
“Oh. Um. O-okay.”
“I promise,” Pinkie mumbled as she pulled her hoof away. In the dim light, she could make out the physical proof of Spike’s interest; not fully engorged, but certainly on the way towards it.
“I know.”
Silence fell once more, stretching beyond pleasant and into the realm of the acutely uncomfortable before Spike opened his mouth again. “Well—”
“Do you want me to put it back?”
Spike blinked. “Huh?”
“I-I mean, if you...enjoyed having it there…” Pinkie blushed. “...It doesn’t have to mean anything. But if it felt good for me to touch—”
The cords of Spike's thick neck bulged as he scrunched up his face; neither was as strong a reaction as the clearly defined twitch in his steadily swelling cock. “Nggggh...Pinkie, I don’t know if I should.”
“But do you want to?”
Spike looked over at Pinkie, blinking as his square jaw worked silently. Then, wordlessly, the Dragon shifted his body in her direction and meekly opened his legs. “Yeah.”
Pinkie reached forward and brushed her hoof against Spike’s cock again. He gasped as the supple frog of her hoof pushed gently around his shaft, and Spike’s dick continued to swell up in her grasp as his face silently went through a wide range of emotions: some nearly comical, none unhappy or unsatisfied.
Struck by sudden impulse, Pinkie shifted her grip up, then down again; up, down, up, down, hoof working its way into a steady, gentle rhythm. Spike shoved a hand in front of his mouth to muffle a loud, delighted moan as she stroked away, but any secrecy gained by his half-successful attempt to stifle his voice was immediately negated by the loud, heavy thumping of his tail slapping against the library floor.
“Feels good, Spike?” Pinkie cooed.
“MmmmmMMMMMMph.”
“See? This isn’t so bad.” Pinkie slowed down a little, malaise finally giving way to a smile. Something faint and unidentifiable twigged at the back of her mind: a realization unarticulated, a thought unrefined. Then the thought disappeared as effortlessly as it came, and Pinkie resumed pumping Spike’s cock, giggling lightly as she elicited a steady stream of soft moans and light, delighted whimpers.
It was, objectively, a truly impressive shaft. The shape wasn’t like a stallion’s, with a nearly pointed tip instead of a flared head and lacking a medial ring entirely. But if anything, that made it easier to manage, and one area it certainly wasn’t lacking in was size.
“Gosh, Spikey-wikey…” Pinkie Pie smirked faintly. “You really have grown up, haven’t you?”
“Uh?” Spike replied, eyes glazed over.
“Oh, nothing!” Pinkie chirped. Impish impulse pushed her head downward and forward, closer and closer to his veiny, throbbing phallus. “It’s just nice seeing you enjoying yourself. Rarity must have you awfully worried, huh?”
“Oh.” Spike coughed, then took in a deep breath. “Not...that’s not all of it.”
Pinkie looked up, trying to suppress a delighted gasp as her eyes drank in his huge, chisled chest. Truth be told, she was beginning to feel more than a little worked up, too, and there was some uncanny, powerful urge that made her particulars feel strangely squirmy, too.
Squirmy and hollow. A vacancy needing to be filled, and a powerful urge to fill it. And, much to her luck, an organ of the perfect size and shape was just in front of her muzzle.
All she needed to do was ask.
“Tell me,” Pinkie purred as she pushed her snout right up against Spike’s tip and inhaled. The scent of his lust hit her like a truncheon, and for a moment she was too dazed to take in Spike’s shocked expression. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Spikey...and tell me if you want me to stop.”
“N-no, please don’t stop.This...this feels amazing.”
“So it isn’t Rarity that’s got you turned into a flustered ol’ filly?” Pinkie prompted, deciding to put off the powerful craving in her nethers for just a bit longer. Instead, she wrapped her lips around the very tip of Spike's spire and gave it an experimental lick. There wasn’t any other way to describe it: Spike tasted like power. A surge ran down Pinkie’s spine as a daub of Spike’s precum drooled onto her tongue, flooding it with a sensation not unlike being at the calm nexus at the center of an inferno. Her lips - the other set of lips - began to drool as well, sending a trickle of fluid down her inner thigh as she pushed her head down on Spike's dragonhood, desperate for more.
“N-no” Spike replied, voice quavering, clearly trying to maintain just enough composure to speak. “N-not exactly. It’s m-more like, I look at her...look at the mare she is now, I mean, and realize that we’re never going to be a thing, and that’s okay, and...oh, Pinkie…!”
“Mmmph?” Pinkie tried to respond, her mouth too full of Spike’s hot, swollen dick to properly reply. Part of her wanted to go deeper, but her mouth was close to taking in as much of his mast as she could. There was no way she’d be able to fit it all in there, not unless she relaxed her throat and let him…
The thought of Spike using her throat like a fucktoy was almost too much to bear. An unexpected spurt of fluid squirted out of Pinky’s eager pussy, staining the carpet behind her in the scent of her arousal. It wasn’t enough, couldn’t possibly be enough. She needed more, more, more!
“I-It’s...I need to move on. A-and I know that there are...y’know...I th-think Gabby might be interested in me. O-or Ember. I just, I...I need to talk to them, but I can’t convince myself not to - ah?”
Pinkie pulled her mouth off of his cock, wiping her mouth. She couldn’t help but salivate, and couldn’t possibly contain the raw, fiery ache in her pussy. “S-spikey, I-I need you to lie down. P-please.”
“I..O-okay.” Spike steadied himself back on his elbows, then reclined on the library floor, cock sticking straight up into the air. “I-is this like a therapy thing, or…”
“Yes,” Pinkie hissed. In a flash, she was practically draped on him, hooves latched around his sides, eagerly lowering her hindquarters towards Spike’s groin. Raw animal instinct helped guide her down, the uncontrollable urge to reproduce angling her just so, and with all the ease of an experienced courtesan her hind lips began to push up against Spike’s dribbling tip.
“P-Pinkie?”
“Spike, listen to me.” Pinkie begged as she started to push herself down. It felt so good to finally have something wedged into her agonizingly empty sex, and Spike’s cock was more than enough to serve her purposes. A lesser stallion would still have filled her cooch up quite nicely, but Spike’s dick was thick enough to push her quivering walls wider and wider as she pushed her way down, and she could feel him throbbing inside her as her uncontrollable twitches and clenches of desire squeezed around his cock, milking it for all it was worth.
“Pinkie...Ohhhh, Celestia, this is…!” Spike whimpered, cock throbbing harder and harder with every inch Pinkie sank down.
“You can’t keep being anxious forever, Spikey-wikey. You can’t hold back on things you want. If you do, you’re n-never going to feel...oh, this is super-duper amazing…!” Pinkie trailed off, scrunching up her face in near-agonized ecstasy as she squeezed her way down his spire, massaging and stroking his massive, bulging cock with every push of her sizeable hips and every unintentional twerk of her largy, rosy ass.
“I...this is amazing, Spike!” Pinkie gushed. “It’s amazing and I want you in my throat and my ass and right here and anywhere and everywhere else you want me! A-and I’d never feel like this if I didn’t...we didn’t…!”
With a squeal of delight, Pinkie came, clamping down extra hard on Spike’s cock as another gush of fluid poured out of her, dribbling over Spike's straining spire and swollen scrotum. The dragon moaned loudly, reaching out and grabbing around Pinkie’s soft hips to lock her in place as she rode out her orgasm, unable to stop her face from going slack and assuming a most stereotypical expression out of sheer sexual bliss.
“Nnnghh...oh, Spike…”
“Pinkie…!”
Pinkie shook her head slightly and looked down. Spike was still holding her for support, but looked almost like he was in pain; his muscular arms trembled as he squeezed around her plush ass, gritting his teeth and practically trembling for desire.
“Spike...c’mon, Spikey.” Pinkie replied, shifting her hips around a bit. “You need to come, don’t you?”
“Y-yeah…” Spike panted. “I-I think so...n-never really done this before.”
“It’s okay, Spikey-Wikey. There isn’t a wrong way to do it.” Giggling, still flush with hedonistic excitement, Pinkie wriggled around to make sure Spike was sunk up to the hilt, wriggled around a bit, then began to bounce. The soft plap of her asscheeks making regular contact with his thighs began to fill the room as Pinkie went to satisfy herself once again - but this time, she made sure to contract and relax her walls regularly, squeezing Spike’s shaft, stroking and rubbing his needy phallus without giving him a spare moment to go slack.
“B-but Pinkie…” Spike’s eyes widened in alarm as his cock gave a particularly pronounced throb. “Wh-what if we...what if this is…”
“It might!” Pinkie chirped, huffing as she continued to ride Spike like tomorrow didn’t exist. “But do you want to enjoy yourself? Or do you want to hold back?”
“I…”
Pinkie slowed down.
Spike’s face screwed up. “Pinkie!”
“Spikey-wikey, you can’t just do one and then the other forever. Life doesn’t work that way!” Pinkie extended a trembling hoof, loins aching, face in a truly satisfied smile. “Are you only gonna be brave enough to enjoy things once? Or are you gonna go out there and mmmmmaybe talk to Gabby or Ember?”
“What are you-”
“Pinkie Pie Promise,” Pinkie giggled. “That we both go and put ourselves out there after tonight. Actually get close to the ponies or griffons or dragons we like. And mmmmmmmaybe have sex more than once.”
Spike panted, hand half-raised. “Uh...wait. Pinkie, that last bit, uh...you’ve...never done this before?”
“Nope nope nope!” Pinkie beamed, hooves immediately following up with a very familiar set of motions. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”
Spike blinked, all his coital enthusiasm and apprehension giving way to an expression of pure befuddlement. Then, abruptly, he laughed, reached out and mimicked Pinkie’s motions as best he could - save for burying his fist in his eye. “Pinkie Pie, you are so random!”
“And you’re so super-duper-grown-up, Spikey!” Pinkie giggled, leaning back and resuming her regular rhythm. Up, down, up, down, up, down —
Abruptly, her balance shifted. Pinkie struggled a bit, clenching down to stay anchored to Spike’s mast as she tried to regain her balance. Then it shifted again. And again. Looking a little further down, Pinkie gasped as she saw Spike working his hips, now — flexing with gusto. Pushing into her. Claiming her from below. Bucking her.
Pinkie let out another squeal of pleasure as she tried to hold on and match her bobs and thrusts with his own. Wet, slapping sounds filled the air as the dragon and the pony rutted openly, freely, oblivious to the world around them. That swelling, surging feeling built up again in Pinkie, and beneath that she felt shifting and throbbing from Spike’s cock that felt more than just good — it felt ominous.
Pressure built, and built, and built. Then, almost simultaneously, they erupted.
Pinkie edged him out by just a hair on speed, but she was utterly dwarfed in raw power. As Spike hastily clamped a claw over his mouth to stifle a roar of delight, the dragon absolutely flooded her insides with spunk, pulsing again and again as jet after jet of his seed spurted deep into her warm, squishy crevice. Unsatisfied with the act of mere release, Spike’s output seemed to be gunning for erotic victory, jizzing with all the fertility of a lord claiming an entire harem all at once. And Pinkie’s latest orgasm, that white-hot rush of pleasure, seemed utterly dwarfed by the pleasure she felt pouring out of Spike, redoubling her own as he flooded her cooze.
Pinkie couldn’t remember coming down from the high. For a while, she couldn’t remember a time before it. The seconds blended into a collage of rough animalistic pleasures colliding and combining all at once, as her and Spike’s bodies fumbled wildly around to extract the last possible iota of pleasure from the climax. Bodies tangled up with bodies, fluids spilled out and smeared across coat and scales and floor, and the concept of everything beyond sex fell away entirely as they fucked like animals, over and over and over.
By the time Pinkie’s mind cleared, she couldn’t remember the route she had taken to get to the library, much less the time. Little seemed to matter but the huge, muscular beefcake body beneath her and the youthful, ever-pleasant mind attached to it. “That…that was really something, huh?”
“Yeah.” Spike sighed, a wide grin spread over his chisled jaw. “Yeah, it was.”
“So…”
“Yeah, I know.” Spike chuckled. “Pinkie Pie Promise. You said you were gonna do it too, though, right?”
“Mmhmm!”
“Cheese Sandwich?”
A faint tinge of red bloomed on her cheeks again. “Mmhmm.”
“Awesome.” Spike’s grin widened as he stared up at the ceiling. “...Y’know, I’m thankful that your aim was bad.”
“Oh, you have no idea how thankful I am, Spikey-wikey.” Pinkie giggled, then started to push herself upward again and disentangle herself. “We should probably get back to the party, though.”
Spike arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“But of course, darling!” Pinkie replied, briefly feigning Rarity’s accent. “It simply wouldn’t do for Ponyville’s Premeir Party Pony to be absent from the party itself. Unless…”
Spike grinned playfully. “Unless?”
“Well, we did agree not to hold ourselves back anymore. And I do have another hole that needs exploring.” Pinkie winked. “But if you don’t need cheering up anymore…oh!”
Pinkie squeaked as Spike sat up a little, reached over and grabbed her sides with his claws, winking as he firmly but gently helping ease her upward. “No way. I still have a lot of cheering up to do. But only if I get to be on top this time.”
