Pretty Fly for a Creampie

by Vis-a-Viscera

Rating: mature
Tags: Porn, Sex, Fetish, Slice of Life, Wonderbolts, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Zephyr Breeze
Length: 4077

Lockers and lookers and layabouts, oh my! It seems Wonderbolt Academy's got two couples in need of a quickie fix.

Ah the stirrings that started up this sordid scene. Maybe it's Dash's habit of betting high and playing hard. Or how Misty Fly's been longing for some more head-to-head action, and not just on the field. Or even about the fun that Misty and Dash-pining dilettante Zephyr Breeze get up to when they see how well two familiar feisty femmes fuck furiously in front of them. Whatever the case; count on Misty to push the pace.

Pic credit goes to Whitepone. Thanks to ArDee and SweetBanana too, for reading/editing this great work!

KINK WARNING: F x F (x2) ♦ Voyeurism Sex ♦ Oral ♦ Vaginal ♦ Crotchtits ♦ Deepthroating ♦ Cum Inflation ♦ Futa ♦ Frotting ♦ Taunting/Dirty Talk ♦ Femdomme

Published 2021-08-02 19:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2021-08-02 19:30:02 UTC

Easy Breezy, Lemon Sleazy

Author's Note

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Easy Breezy, Lemon Sleazy

“DammitCrash, you practically live here and your mane’s the only thing in the Wonderbolt Academy louder than I am! Where-did-you-fly-off-to!?”

Despite Wonderbolt's Misty Fly’s pleading words, the line of laundry baskets she’d upturned exposed no Rainbow Dashes hidden in their bins. There were plenty of flight suits and jockstraps through. Smelly ones, too.

Misty cocked an errant eyebrow at one of the straps right at eye's height, not even the weak cone lights above masking its size.

“...damn, Soarin’, no wonder Thunderlane's been getting mad at ya lately.” Flipping that cod into the lone upright bin, Misty drifted out of the lingerie room. “Just hope I can find the new cadet before the Cap does. I like Crash’s wings and insides where they are, thanks.”

Misty’s eyes shot over the lime hallways, alert for even the hint of Spitfire’s mane. Thankfully, no dice. The clock at the end of the hallway, however, let Misty know just why the Captain would be on the warpath.

“C’mon, already - 4:16 and you still can’t find a rainbow-maned rookie? Get it together, Fly.” Smacking her cheek, she darted into the next room. Wonderbolts Locker Room - Communal flashed above her eyes before the rush of chilled air pricked her coat under the thin bodysuit.

Almost as if on clue, she heard the telltale slam of a metal door.

“Bingo”.

A smirk, a flick of the wings, and suddenly Misty Fly owned the sky - low as it was in the spacious locker rooms. Even her heart lightened a bit, despite the captain likely ready to leap on it if she didn’t find Dash soon. It was just… addicting, sucking in the air and knowing you owned everything around it.

“Now if I were a slack-happy cadet,” hummed Misty, “Where would I be?”

Not in the open, weirdly enough. Even Dash wasn’t fast enough to am-scray out of here if she was near a locker. Yet, nothing but marbled tile and metal doors greeted Misty’s scouring eye. So where could they go…

...but in?

Settling down near a fleet of lockers, Misty let a hoof drag across their wrought surfaces, the light, harmonious squeaks were a near contrast to the sharp sweep of her eyes, as she scanned each grated door she passed with care.

“Ooooh, Craaaashie…” she purred, her voice trickling from her like poisoned honey. “I know you’re heeeeeere!” A bit more seriously, Misty continued. “And soon so will the Caaaaptain….”

A soft bump trickled out for Misty’s twitching ears. Bingo! she thought; it was almost too easy. Her eyes swung forward to the number atop the target - 83, just left of Soarin’s!

Oh, Crash is in for it now! She tauntingly though ,her motions almost catlike as she twirled on her hooves to face the music. And she thought she could try fooling Fly by running into her ow-

Then Misty blinked, staring at the locker currently before her. The one that did have Dash’s name on it.

Five lockers over from lucky number 83.

In fact, that locker… was Sky Stinger’s.

Doubt started doing backstrokes in Misty’s roiling mind. Something wasn’t adding up. Dash was a creature of habit - why was she stashed in a locker so far away from her own?

But then another voice propelled itself to Misty’s ears.

“Lieutenant Fly! Stand at attention - I know you’re around here somewhere!”

Then Misty’s ears perked up in shock. That voice was definitely familiar. Fiery, crisp, and tinged with an undercurrent of volcanic fury she was waiting to let loose on the poor mare who’d pogo-sticked onto her last nerve.

And Misty, from her bugging eyes to her shaking hooves, didn’t want to be in front of that fury.

Before she knew it, she’d flown into that locker 83, somehow managing to pull the door closed without a squeak. It was cramped. Even more so with the body pushed so flush against her own - but she and Dash were safe.

“Don’t worry, rookie,” Misty whispered as she peeped out of the grates. “Right now, I want as little of the Captain’s fire as you do. So just stay quiet and we’ll both get outta this, alright?”

“Uh, Cap? Soarin said y’wanted to see me?”

That new, reverent yet cocky voice was recognizable too. More because Misty had expected to hear it from the pony behind her, not the one entering the flocking locker room.

The response was loud and clear from one other mare, though. “Dash!” came the exhalation from Spitfire, “And just what took you so long to make yourself present?”

And with that, a new conundrum wormed into Misty’s mind. Slowly, she turned her head around, locking eyes with the pony that was definitely not Dash but that she was definitely stuck in a locker with.

A stringy bun of blond nearly masked his wide eyes - and wider, shit-eating grin - from view. It didn't mask the lanky height in the stallion smushed against Misty, though. “Not the ‘Bolt I was hoping to get closer to today…” he whispered. “But I’m not complaini-urk!”

Suddenly there was more cramping to make Misty’s forehoof buzz. Mainly from the column of neck muscle she’d shoved it into, choking out the stallion. “Name, or nads. Don’t think I don’t have the room to bite them off if I wanna.”

“Z-zeph… Zephyr Breeze… holy cow, please lemme go!” He choked out in a hurried whimper, shuddering like a leaf behind her hoof on his neck.

“And just how the hay did you get in here! Speak!” Even at a whisper, Misty’s voice made Zephyr’s pupils shrink like violets.

“Surprise let me in here my sis is friends with her said she reminds her of this partyin’ mare in Sugarcube Corner I just wanted to shoot my shot with Dash oh pleasepleasepleeease don’t kill me-”

At that confession Misty’s hoof retreated, making his plea pitter out on gulps of freshly retrieved oxygen. “Seems she’s a hot commodity lately,” she groused in a voice weighed down with what was definitely not envy. “Wait, are you the reason she’s been off base so often?”

“O-oh. Well I sure hope so-I mean, n-no!” Amazing how a raised Misty hoof could blunt the bravado in Zephyr’s voice, wasn’t it? “But if she’s here, I’ll be outta your mane in a jiffy.... Uh…”

“Misty.”

“Right! Misty!” Zephyr chortled. “Just… gotta...”

But both ponies froze at the sound of the commotion outside of them now. “So, um… came the surprisingly subdued tone of Rainbow Dash. “You remember the wager we had a while back, right?”

“I do indeed, rookie.” Misty couldn’t help but break an unseen smile at the wily edge in Spitfires’ voice. Even if it was because of Crash, anypony that could put the Captain in good spirits had some promise. “In fact, I wanted to talk about that bet we had. The one involving the wing-ups at training?”

“S-same.” Dash said. The shuffling of hooves made Zephyr’s ears prick up, the thump in the metal making Misty suck in a breath. “I was just wondering if you… well, if y’wanted to cash in that win now…”

Right beside the locker-trapped Wonderbolt, Zephyr’s chuckles rose to heat the air further.“Huh. Think I could guess a slot of Dash’s that I could fi-ow!”

“Less crappy metaphors, more freedom!” hissed Misty. “While the Cap’s in a good mood!”

But alas, the space that was already hard for the athletic and flexible Misty to navigate may as well have been made from molasses for the tall, lanky Zephyr. The only thing his jostling accomplished was pressing the two of them belly-to-belly against one another - which had the unfortunate side effect of squeezing Zephyr’s rapidly hardening length between them.

“And just what the flyin’ flock do you think you’re doing?” Misty hissed, fire alighting in her eyes as she glanced questioningly down at the (admittedly impressive) length that Zephyr seemed to be rubbing against her. “What did I just say about your nads?” Her eyes narrowed further when his length flexed against her tummy from her venomous tone.

Thankfully, Zephyr was saved from having to explain his compromising predicament by a distracting commotion from outside their shared locker.

“Like I said, Dash - Much as it heartens me to see you humble, I have no intention of sabotaging my cadets.” Spitfire said. “No matter what my tolerance of Lightning Dust implied, I run a tight ship here. Just as shocked as you were that you wagered that privilege anyways.”

Several seconds ticked away, the metronome almost maddeningly persistent. Both Misty and Zephyr froze, sweat trickling down their bodies as they waited for somepony to speak. And then Rainbow Dash did, her voice on the verge of cracking - but it wasn’t out of timidity this time.

“W-what?! Cap, are you serious?”

“I am indeed. I’ve no plan to screw you over, Dash - then or now.” Seriously, seeing Spitfire smile this much was weird to Misty. How long had these two gone back - was it real that she “Breathe easy, rookie-”

Then a slamming locker door - thankfully, not the one Misty and Zephyr were behind - signaled Dashs’ shift of gears. “No! I mean about our bet! I said if you won, y-you’d get to fuck me! Now I’ve been waiting a week, and I’m not leaving this room until! You! Fuck me!”

Spitfire’s eyes weren’t the only ones bugging out of their skull at those words. “Holy Faust, I was just kidding…” gasped Zephyr, his head tilting in stunned fascination. “I didn't even know Dash sw-ow what the f-!”

“Oh we are out of here now!” Misty growled, the sounds of Spitfire expression her shock at the literalness of her won wager masking her struggles. “I do not need to see the Captain - my Captain!- being… sweet fuck, just laid out like a buffet for flockin’ Crash!”

“Consider it done, then.”

That was not Misty or Zephyr. And considering how wide Dash was grinning, it wasn’t her either. The way Misty jostled in her confinement though, you’d think it was a hungry manticore rather than her Captain agreeing to sex with Dash.

Only two issues hampered her though.

The first was the sturdiness of the locker, and especially its locking mechanism - one that Misty found herself throwing unspoken curses at Fleetfoot for not bending against her clambering hooves. Spend one time slipping away in a closet to slurp off Fire Streak’s foot-long fucklog, and suddenly it’s ‘reinforced locks’ and ‘stronger-tinted sunglasses’! Like the pictures weren’t good enough to get the other Bolts' fires going - or Misty wondering how half the mares on it didn't have bellies out to Ponyville full of foals.

Heck, even the way Dash was forcing her tongue down Spitfire’s throat was a dead ringer for Fleetfoot’s hoofiwork.

And the second issue was related, because Misty’s hurried movements weren’t only putting her clanging limbs in danger. “Hey! Watch it, you’ll break a wing! Specifically mine!“ But Zephyr’s words fell on ears as deaf as Misty’s eyes were wild. “Slow down! Big stallion on deck here!”

He certainly was, if the feel of heated skin rushing against Misty’s clambering limbs was any indication. But escape was her only concern now, and the lack of muscle in her air-catching limbs was combing back to haunt the panicked Wonderbolt.

Momentarily forgetting their conflict at another harsh gasp, their gazes shifted to peer out of the slats of their cage in an attempt to see what Spits and Dash were still talking about. Though, perhaps talking was not the correct term anymore.

Two jaws dropped open (and Zeph’s length throbbed against her, Misty noted) at the sight of Dash moving against Spitfire. Apparently whatever objection the Wonderbolt captain had against their sexual opportunity was as lost as their suits, scraps of blue-and-gold fabric trilong over the bench they were cradling each other on. And Dash… the Rainbow Dash, the crash-happy upstart Misty took no end in teasing, was stuffing her thick, imposing length of maremeat into her captain’s clenching cooch. An imposing pair of heavy blue nuts crashed against Spitfire’s winking clitty and jiggling teats with each hasty thrust, drawing shockingly slutty moans from Spitfire’s lips that was making Misty re-evaluate everything about her CO.

It was too shocking - and unbelievably hot - for Misty Fly to put into words.

Spitfire was less tongue-tied, though. The bright-yellow mare was panting and moaning out half-coherent orders to her cadet as she was brutally railed out crosswise over the locker-room bench, their rear halves in perfect view for the impromptu voyeurs in Sky Stinger’s locker.

Goodness, Misty could have had both mares in the frog of her hoof with one good camera shot. Dash would never live it down, even if she knew it. That she had this much equipment, who she was using it on, how she got the chance to (after all, betting was still frowned on even this high in the clouds.)

But blackmail was the furthest thing on Misty’s mind now. The sight was utterly mouthwatering, seeing two mares as lost in the throes of passion as they were. And ones she never thought could even meet like this! Besides, Misty was far too content enjoying the show to care much for procedure or propriety at that moment...she felt herself wink as her cloying, intoxicating juices plinked onto the metal floor of the locker, filled the tightly confined space with the scent of a mare who was hot, bothered, and ready for relief.

Relief that the trespasser’s lower half was certainly willing to give her, at least if the way his hips involuntarily pressed against her as his hot breath washed over her was any clue. Off-putting and egotistic as this young stallion was, especially with Cadet Dash...perhaps he could still prove useful to the Wonderbolt cause yet.

“Hey, Breeze...” Misty stated, causing Zephyr to freeze in place as he locked his wide-eyed, blushing face with her own. “You gettin’ hard over findin’ your crush has a bigger dick’n you, chump? Well…” She trailed off in a purr, shuffling her belly against his length as she felt him throb heavily from the touch of her fur against his sensitive underside. Leaning her head forward to whisper against his ear, which flicked at her warm exhalation, Misty continued. “I can fix one of those issues of yours, Breeze...long as you can keep quiet and not get us found out…”

“Y-y-yeah, o-okay! Totally, Flyer.” Zephyr chuckled quietly, eyelids lowering and length hardening to near-painful iron stiffness as it finally registered in his brain that he was about to get laid. By a Wonderbolt! Maybe not the Wonderbolt of his dreams, but still!

She held a hoof firmly to his lips in response to his statement, shaking her head as she glared firmly at him. “No pet names, no talking. Moment you start doing that crap is the moment we get caught, and you do not want those two finding out about us finding out about them. Especially not Dash finding out about you, cuz I’ve got a funny feeling your attraction ain’t mutual.”

Zephyr’s eyes flickered betrayingly to the sweat-strewn Dash, who was still taking her wailing Captain for all she was worth. Even if he wanted to belabor her point - a tall order, considering how lust-clogged his brain was becoming - a flick of Misty’s hips around his length shut him up but good.

“And with the kind of pipe she’s packing, you may not like the new punishments she comes up with...” Misty purred, smirking knowingly as she saw him glance nervously towards the door slats.

Without further fanfare, Misty lifted herself against the wall of the locker, propping her hooves against the opposing wall as she brought his thin dark-green tip towards her fluttering, flushed, pastel-yellow outer lips. Allowing some slack in her posture, Misty let her new mate press his flaring tip to her entrance with gradually increasing firmness, until that magical moment where it slid its way inside her all at once with a muffled pop and a bitten-lip-stifled groan from both of them.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten laid...be sure and give it to me good, colt. Impress me and I might just keep you around~” Her purred teasing into his ear continued ceaselessly, taking a sledgehammer to the stallion’s inexperienced endurance as she felt him already starting to throb heavily inside her depths.

The slight impact of his swinging nuts against her flanks and thighs was getting her more worked up than she’d anticipated, feral, greedy lust sneaking into her voice as she looped a forehood around the back of his neck and brought the lanky stallion muzzle-to-muzzle with her.

“You gonna cum? You gonna blow the first real load of your pathetic life into me?” Her lips broke into a rictus grin. “Do it, Breeze. Do it!”

With a sharp groan that Misty quickly muzzled by locking lips with him, Zephyr’s first load unleashed propelled itself deep within her. He held a much greater volume than she’d expected from such a pathetic, wimpy stallion, his first jet crashing against her cervix with enough force to make her hindlimbs curl in startled pleasure. A mini-orgasm shuddered through Misty as the warm suddenness of his release stimulated every inch of her interior. Groaning deeply into each other’s panting maws as Misty’s tongue utterly dominated his in their potent, lustful lip-lock, the pair’s hips bucked involuntarily against one another as rapture took hold of their higher functions for a glorious, shared moment.

The sound of shuffling limbs, fluttering wings, and heated, feminine moans drew the pair’s attention to the locker door despite their hazy afterglow, their cum-splattered hips grinding against each other as they watched Dash continue to utterly dominate the once-superior Wonderbolt Captain.

Railing her with legs spread, holding one of the captain’s upraised hindlegs to her chest as she gripped onto it for dear life, the well-endowed mare rammed her thick length of maremeat into those addictive, mature, experienced folds with abandon, spreading her wide and driving cute squeaks from the once-proud captain’s throat as she slid back bonelessly against the locker room bench and let her subordinate take total control.

“Celestia damn that’s hot…” Misty muttered, biting her lip harder the longer she watched. “I’ve wanted to be the one to get her to make noises like that for as long as I’ve been a Wonderbolt, but experiencin’ it secondhoof is just as hot...if not hotter, mmhf~'' Looking back at the panting, exhausted-looking Zephyr, her eyes lidded. “Watching those two’s got me all hot and bothered again. Think you got another in you, Voyeur Breeze?”

Panting heavily, Zephyr opened his mouth to object - both to the coy nickname and to the suggestion of a second go around so soon after his first - before Misty shoved a hoof in it, swirling her hips insistently around his half-hard, cum-glazed length as she rotated herself into a slightly more traditional (but still upright) position, underside-to-back as she gazed at him over her shoulder.

“Ahh, who’m I kidding, of course you’re ready. You young stallions have got more cum than sense, after all...fill me again, stud~” Holding herself up with a pastel-yellow forehoof against the far wall, her hindhooves hung in the air against his long, lanky legs as she shoved her plot against his groin, enough to force him to remain balls-deep in her whether he wanted it or not.

“Unhhhfuck…” Zephyr groaned quietly, not daring to raise his voice no matter how much he wanted to, as those butter-yellow flanks compressed against his underside and her dock fluttered against his belly. Barely able to move beneath the force of the athletic mare, he gripped her flanks tightly in his forehooves and ground himself deeper into her. His thin length pressing deliciously against the entrance of her cervix as a slight prominence bulged above her opening. A shuddering moan leaked from her maw as another orgasm suddenly overtook her, splattering onto the floor of the locker and filling Zephyr’s overwhelmed nose with another dose of Misty’s enticing, rainy scent.

Away from the enraptured, voyeuristic couple, Spitfire and Dash continued their tryst with unabated passion, hips thumping wetly against each other with each of Dash’s panting thrusts into her depths, brazen curses and moans filling the locker room, utterly masking Misty and Zephyr’s own noises as they announced (to a thankfully empty locker room) the sheer intensity of their mating and their partner’s prowess.

“Unh, flock, this tight pussy of yours never gets old, captain~...” Dash growled, thick length surging mercilessly into Spitfire’s depths as their hips met with a deep thud with each inward thrust.

“Where d’you want it, babe?” The domineering Element panted out, cerise eyes locked on those dark-yellow folds as they spread taut with each ring-deep dive she made.

“Give it all inside, or so help me I’ll flocking court martial you, cadet!” Spitfire answered vociferously, her fiery orange eyes locking with Dash’s - and widening as the blue mare released her hindleg, leaned over and pressed Spits’s back into the bench with dominant finality, her legs locking around Dash’s midsection reflexively as she was put into the quadrupedal approximation of a mating press.

And then Dash really went to town on her.

Her blue hips sped to a dizzying blur as she rutted her captain with complete abandon, her mind’s eye narrowing to one task and one task only - Rut. Dominate. Breed. She wasn’t even sure if a dickmare’s load was viable, but she was Tartarus-damned going to try.

Within the locker, Misty and Zephyr were scarcely faring better; similarly taken with one another and paying less and less attention to their noise levels as their mating reached its second crescendo, Zephyr’s thrusts had reached an impressive speed for such an under-exercised stallion, his modest nuts thumping against Misty’s pasty yellow teats with each thrust as her legs shook and shuddered in their suspended state. She had to hand it to the voyeuristic creep - what he lacked in girth, he more than made up for in length and enthusiasm…

But such an inexperienced stallion couldn’t keep up such a display of dominance for long. Gritting his teeth as he panted heavily in Misty’s ear, he panted out a raspy, exhausted warning as he felt his release welling up inside him, an insistent knot of pressure just waiting for that final, exultant moment to spring itself open.

“Do it. Flocking cum in me!” Misty screamed, completely forgetting herself in the moment as her third orgasm brought Zephyr’s final thrust to a shuddering, teeth-grinding halt right at its deepest apex - the throbbing, burgeoning prominence of his flare butting up against the entrance to her deepest depths.

Misty’s scream was matched by a near-identical demand from Spitfire’s raspy throat, the two couples finding their exultant, transcendent peaks in unison as a symphony of aimless, overwhelmed moans and groans echoed through the room and from within Sky Stinger’s locker. Neither pair even registered the others’ noises, caught up in the moment as they were; virile spurts of Dash’s seed erupted messily from their union beneath her weighty futasack, covering the area of the bench behind them with scattered streaks of their mixed essences as the two boisterous athletes shared a heated Prench kiss, eyes clenched tightly shut in rapturous focus.

Zephyr’s jaw hung limply as his eyes boggled in his head, staring dumbly down at the grille-lit spectacle of their union as it took on a thick, milky hue from their shared release, splattering against Misty’s flanks and dock as it streamed down her hindlegs in thick, gooey trails, splattering onto Sky Stinger’s belongings at the bottom of the locker.

As Spitfire and Rainbow Dash are cooling down and bantering half-heartedly with each other, Misty inadvertently presses her forehoof to the locker door for support, causing the two voyeurs to fall out of the locker, lower halves plastered in their mixed juices, right in front of a stunned Dash and Spitfire. After a moment of realization, the two are understandably quite livid.

“Uhh...I can explain?” Misty squeaked out.

"Please don't," both Dash and Zephyr moaned, then stared shockedly at one another. "HEY!"