Discoveries of a Filly's Behind

The rest of the evening blew past in a flurry of developments; blurred drinking and laughing, a stew of confusion, mixed emotions, and forgotten plot lines melded into one conglomerate whole in Sweetie’s head as the day turned to the evening and then night.

She was swept off her hooves by Pipsqueak and his dazzling bravado—so fast that she could barely remember why it was that she was even talking to him. Before she knew it she was lazing on a moving couch, slowly being transported through the dead of night as the glittering of stars and night lights shone above her.

“Hurrry uuup..” She purred, the world swaying slightly below them as she inched her moving couch along. As eloquent as she was, her lips felt thick and sour. Her mouth was dry and she was starting to feel thirsty—and headachy—and tired, and tingly. Her legs twitched with every motion and grunt of the couch.

“Hnng...” Pipsqueak groaned under the strain. “Shh—Sweetie Belle. We’re almost there. Can you not have a little patience?”

“Nuuuuuh...” The ground twisted in odd ways and Sweetie wobbled. She slumped against Pip’s back, clinging to him tightly as she slid sideways against him.

Pip let out a small sigh. He widened his stance and gave Sweetie a little buck, righting her against his back once more. They were just a few feet from his apartment. Only a little longer and they’d be home, and hopefully she’ll be able to sleep it out through the night...

Hopefully.

She clung to his back harder, squeezing the air out of him with her vice-like grip. “I’m huuungry...” Sweetie Belle moaned.

Pip rolled his eyes, trying his best to ignore her as she pulled them both across the last few feet to reach the apartments. “It’s okay,” he said, giving Sweetie a reassuring head pat. “We’re almost there. You just have to hold on a little longer, okay?”

She whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his sensitive hair. “But I don’ wanna...” she said.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push her concerns to the back of his mind. “It’s fine,” he repeated, “we’re almost there. Now let me get out the key, will you?”

A moment of silence as Pipsqueak awaited a response. Sweetie, at length, nodded, her nose rubbing into the back of his neck as she buried herself in Pip’s mane. “Mmfmmm...” he heard her muffled voice say, as seemingly acknowledgement as Sweetie’s grip on him loosened slightly.

It wasn’t enough to let her slide off, but plenty that Pip was allowed to breathe a sign of relief. “Good, now—” A spike of sensations ran up Pip’s spine as Sweetie’s hooves shifted lower, grasping around him barely below his waist. “Oh-OH!”

He shuddered, clanging his teeth as he pushed through the uncomfortable sensation. She didn’t mean it—he told himself. She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

They reached the door and pipsqueak shifted Sweetie’s weight against his back so he could reach into his pocket. It took a couple tries, and a few precious, awkward, seconds of searching, but he finally pulled out the tiny piece of metal and had it slid into the lock.

Then, again, whilst trying to keep Sweetie at bay, Pipsqueak clenched the knob of the door, turned the key, and the satisfying “click” of tumblers rolling into position resounded through the dimly-lit corridor.

Pipsqueak flung the door open and they both crashed inside, triggering a hidden motion sensor. A patio light flickered on behind them, leaving a trail of narrowing light entering the apartment from outside as he allowed the door to slowly swing closed behind them.

Panting and heaving, Pipsqueak summoned his last dregs of strength to drag his charge over to the living room, where she could drop her onto the sofa and be done with it. Naturally, she had to be one of those lightweights, he lamented. She could barely handle so much as a single drink, and she hadn’t even had that much, either: just two ciders and a glass of water, over three hours, but that was somehow enough to get her completely tanked.

Though, it was probably his fault for encouraging her in the first place. But what could he do? He couldn’t just ignore her. That filly was going to get herself thrown out at that rate. He simply couldn’t just sit idly by and let a lady be treated like anything but.

“I guess this is my reward for being a gentlecolt...” he muttered.

“Hm?” Sweetie’s face hovered over the corner of his vision—a curious pair of eyes looked at him over his shoulder.

“N-Nothing—” Pipsqueak said, grateful for the darkness to hide his blush. “Look. Here’s th--” He gestured with a shoulder to the couch, and then buckled under the weight feet before reaching their goal. “—Ack—” Pipsqueak was reduced to a gasping lump as the air was squeezed out of him between Sweetie Belle and the carpet below.

“Wee!” Sweetie was sent into a fit of giggles, shaking them both with her laughs as she rode Pip’s back. “Hey, that was pretty fun!” she squealed, pressing Pip’s face to the ground as she leaned over him.

A pair of sparkling eyes, filled with a foal-like glee hovered over his vision, attached to a massive grin as Sweetie Belle patted his shoulders, egging her steed along with the slight bucking of her hips.”Let’s do that again!”

Mother of Celestia, it was like foalsitting all over again. “N-No, let’s just...” He rolled them onto his side to catch his breath. “...rest a little, alright?”

“Oh...”

Pipsqueak’s ears perked a little. She sounded a little disappointed, sad almost, and then his breath caught as Sweetie’s forelegs snaked around his barrel, squeezing him a little. It wasn’t hard or uncomfortable, but gentle and soft. A hug was accompanied by a nuzzle and a purr as she snuggled in behind him.

“I’m sorry...” Sweetie whispered. “That was too rough, wasn’t it?”

Pipsqueak rolled back over to face Sweetie in her hug. In the dim light of the night, their bodies were pressed against one another as he stared into those pale green eyes. They glistened, almost, with a faint green light, shimmering with the budding of tears and a delicate smile.

His heart skipped a beat, all but the most recent annoyance melting away in the moment as his own smile slowly spread to his cheeks. She was beautiful, the purest definition of her name, and simplest form any mare could be.

His heart skipped a beat, fluttering slightly in the moment as it crept up into the back of his throat, quickening with Pipsqueak’s breath as an unfamiliar smell crept to the tips of his nose. The calm descended around them with the cooling air of the apartment, and the warmth of their bodies pulling them together.

Moving almost on instinct, Pip let his arms tighten around her, deepening the hug as he hummed. “It’s okay...” he began to say, but was stopped by a sudden jolt as Sweetie’s hips moved against his own.

Pipsqueak was shot back to the present, and with a shove, he pushed them apart, gasping for breath, “N-No, I don’t—” he bit his lip, hesitant to say another word.

Instead, silent, he stumbled back to his hooves, hiding himself as he retreated into the kitchen, his blush turning into a burning of his ears as he reached the sink, all of the events playing back in his mind. The smell, the heat, the way she was acting, and the way she couldn’t hold even so much as a single drop of cider.

It was all making sense, but the realisation was gut-wrenching. He didn’t want to admit it. How could he have missed it? It was so obvious after all. He was gasping and out of breath as he rasped. “Wh-was she in heat?”

His hooves pressed into the edge of the sink, the cold metal digging in under his frogs, anchoring him in the present. A chill ran up his spine at the realisation, and the temptation, but more at the revulsion. She didn’t say she was. “Why didn’t she say something?”

He should have known, but why didn’t she bring it up when things started to get more... personal? Granted, there were a lot of mares who liked to wear an estrus perfume to help them get laid, but that was always something generic. You could always recognise the smell of something like ‘Fleur dis lee’, ‘Cadenza’, or ‘Midnight Moon’ but this was something specific to her, and what’s more—his nostrils flared remembering the scent. Even with the alcohol, he knew this smell.

This was her smell.

It was a scent he hadn’t gotten a taste of since—

Pipsqueak’s mouth went dry. He fumbled with the tap, pulling one of the glasses from the drying rack. He needed some water.

His movements were sluggish, jittery. He had just about brought the drink to his lips when a swooning Sweetie crept up behind him. She slung her hooves around his waist, nuzzling his cheek as she purred. “P-Please forgive me, Pipsqueak. I-I know I’ve been mean, but—”

“I don’t understand you, Sweetie Belle.” He shied away from her, keeping his body close against the side of the counter, hoping to Celestia that she doesn’t notice his growing erection. “What do you want?”

She sighed.

Sweetie Belle paused, seemingly thinking of something, all the while spreading her heated fumes all through the apartment. It was taking all of Pipsqueaks strength to hold back, to keep civil whilst Sweetie subjected him to this arduous torture.

He repeated, tearing. “Wh-what do you want?”

He held his breath, hoping, praying to Celestia that she wouldn’t say—

“I want you,” she said.

Fuck.

Me too.

~ ~ ~

The floors and walls swung and bent beneath Sweetie Belle’s hooves as the entire world seemed to swim around her, giving her a bad case of the dizziness. She could feel herself sway, her hooves cross momentarily, and her entire body lurch with the floor. Even despite her lucid state returning to her, she found herself clinging to the walls, hugging the corners and sticking closer to the stallion in front of her than she would have normally allowed.

With every step her eyes would wander, every few steps bringing something new to grab her attention, whether it be an old photo from an even she recognised like the pictures of herself and several other fillies and colts, Pipsqueak included, standing at the aftermath of a school volleyball championship—or others she didn’t recognise.

There were pictures of a teenage colt graduating, older ponies and teachers, and events she didn’t remember at all, all mixed together in a strange swath of a dreamlike sequence.

Did Pipsqueak have an older brother? she momentarily thought, before her attention was grabbed away by something else.

Between everything she always found her gaze settling to the scene in front of her, at the backside of one Pipsqueak....

She couldn’t make out very much with his tail in the way, especially with her vision blurring and the dimmed lights of the hallway, but every second trot the hairs would brush aside with the sway of his hips and she would be treated to the briefest proper looks.

It wasn’t like it was anything she hadn’t seen before either. Fillies and colts, stallions too, would always have their little shows, regardless of whether they actually wanted to or not, but there was something different about this.

For one, she was closer. At school they’d always been taught to keep a respectful distance, and everypony was too embarrassed to look when it happened. She’d always avert her eyes.

But tonight?

Tonight she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

She didn’t know why, maybe it was the morbid curiosity after exploring herself, but whenever Pip’s dock moved out of the way, she found herself staring, trying to get as much of a look as she could—she could have sworn she felt her nostrils flare when she got a good whiff of his scent, or maybe it was her imagination.

Regardless, there was something different about this, far removed from her exploring herself in the mirror, nothing like that. This had her... hot, agitated...excited.

A tiny tremor ran up Sweetie’s back as the words passed her lips.

“...Excited...” she breathed.

She almost bumped into a chest of drawers as they rounded the corner.

On the next bob of Pipsqueak’s tail, the rhythms lined up perfectly and Sweetie Belle was rewarded with a full flash of the stallion’s package at nearly a perfectly sideways view. Two huge balls, with patches of grey and brown mottling their surface, jostled between his legs.

The soft flesh was flexing with the motions of his muscles, his big, powerful leg-muscles—and dangling from between them, slowly plumping with the beat of his heart, growing rigid and firm was his...his..

Sweetie had to lick her lips to slowly push the word out. “Cock,” she murmured, almost reverently as if Rarity might jump out at her to swat her tail for using such a crude word.

She knew what it was. It was like Scootaloo always said. It was his cock. Just saying the word made her feel dirty, and watching as it slowly dropped out from Pip’s undercarriage getting harder... for her...

A shudder of excitement ran down Sweetie Belle’s spine. She had to stop and screw her eyes shut as a now-familiar knot coiled itself tight in the pit of her stomach.

It was like her entire body had tensed and the only way to release it was to take a deep breath and to slowly relax her dock.

Her tail twitched and lifted slightly, then her muscles tensed and retracted, letting the coil loosen as a short spasm pulled at the area between her legs, then, right on time, a fresh trickling of fluid tickled her lips before making its way down her inner thigh.

The momentary relief lasted seconds before the burning in her very core began the slow build-up once again, spurred on by the scent of Pipsqueak’s cologne.

She was biting her lip when she was shaken out of it by Pipsqueak’s voice, a tiny whisper in the corner of her ear. “We’re here,” he said.

Sweetie Belle’s ears perked up, and realising her position, she quickly clamped her tail back down over her dock as she started forwards, stepping through the doorway that Pipsqueak had so graciously opened in her way.

The inside didn’t look much different than the rest of the apartment. Just more of the same modern look with a shaggy brown carpet and clean white cabinets forming the dresser. Not at all like what she’d expect her first visit into a colt’s room to look like, but still...The majority of her attention was taken up by the modestly-sized bed in the middle, carefully made but with a suitcase and some papers strewn across the corner.

Homework, perhaps?

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Pip’s voice caused Sweetie to start as the stallion walked in behind her, his hoof pressing into her shoulder and guising her forward. His other hoof expertly swung the door closed behind them as he led her towards the bed.

Sweetie’s legs were quivering as she reached the edge of the bed, and Pipsqueak hurriedly moved to shove the papers out of the way as he made room for them both, all the while whispering his apology: “I wasn’t really expecting to come home with anypony, I hope you don’t mi—

“N-No!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, then back-stepped the moment she realised her mistake. “I—I mean—“ she stuttered, then climbed onto the edge of the bed, awkwardly making her way to the centre of it as the soft plush compressed under her weight—“I-I don’t mind. Really,” she said.

Pipsqueak’s eyes had widened but he made no sudden moves to retreat. Instead he slowly advanced, joining Sweetie Belle on the edge of the bed where he put a hoof on her thigh and looked her in the eyes with a soft smile on his face.

Sweetie could feel his heart starting to race at the close contact, and she could practically hear her own heart pumping in her ears as she leaned forwards, pressing her weight against Pipsqueak. Every part of her being was calling out, begging her to do this, but her body was shaking, unable to cross the last few inches, even as she could see the shape of Pip’s turgid member poking out from between his folded legs.

Pip, noticing Sweetie’s eye line, blushed and closed his legs, hiding his arousal from her sight. He looked her in the eyes, putting on a more serious look than she could ever remember seeing on him.

Slowly, delicately he whispered, trying desperately to keep his voice level for her.

“Are you sure you want this?” he said.

Sweetie Belle swallowed. Her throat was so unbelievably dry, and yet everything else about her was so... so wet.

She inhaled his scent, shutting out the part of her brain that wanted to protest, and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Pipsqueak bit his lip at this for a moment, but he eventually relented, placing a quick peck on her lips before pressing a hoof into Sweetie’s chest. It didn’t take much strength to push her back, and Sweetie Belle felt herself being coaxed down onto her back, spreading herself out for everypony—though mainly just him—to see.

She let out a breath as the mattress compressed to accept her prone form, and Sweetie could feel the swimming in her head abate as she was laid flat beneath Pipsqueak, the stallion emerging from the bottom of her view to sit at the base of the bed.

His—a shiver ran up the back of Sweetie’s spine. Her heart was racing as Pipsqueak moved his hips, parting her legs ever so slightly as the head of his penis started to press its way between her thighs, nestled perfectly against the soft mounds of her breasts.

The way he held her, hooves pressing firmly into the fur of her thighs, sent yet more tiny tremors through Sweetie’s entire body. Her breathing came in short, taut, pants. Her eyes grew wide as the flared tip poked its head past the flat valley of her breasts, and yet she could still feel more of it coming, longer, further.

With every inch that Pipsqueak pushed forward, Sweetie could feel the mottled surface, the underside of his organ, flexing against the soft surface of her breasts, tickling the short hairs between her legs, and prickling the now sensitive exposed skin of her teats.

Everywhere the tip went was roughed and matted, wet with the clear dribbling of his arousal until, finally, something tapped against the sensitive lips of Sweetie Belle’s pussy. She immediately tensed as her body reacted in kind to Pip’s dick, flared and engorged in front of her.

She felt her muscles tensing, and right on time came the tickling of a thin fluid trailing down her dock and towards her tail—just as Pipsqueak’s dick flared in front of her, growing and engorged before her very eyes. It deposited a thin trickle of its own clear fluid onto the crux of her belly, where it mixed with the fur, forming yet another wet patch millimetres above her belly button/

Sweetie flinched. Her cheeks were burning—nay her entire body was burning. She stifled her moan with a bit of her lips. “...mmf,” she murmured, wide-eyed at the sight in front of her.

Pipsqueak’s motions slowed. Just as he was about to pull back for the second thrust—Oh Celestia, if that was just the first, Sweetie couldn’t imagine what the rest must feel like—he held himself in place, hooves still wrapped tightly around her thighs.

Sweetie whined, almost disappointed; she missed when Pipsqueak spoke.

“Is... everything okay?” he asked.

It took a few seconds for Sweetie to realise what was going on, and even longer for her to tear her gaze away from his head and turn it towards Pipsqueak’s face. Her vision waivered slightly and Sweetie had to lick her lips. Unable to speak in more than tiny pants, she shakily nodded her head.

“Mhm...” she mumbled. Her cheeks started to burn all the stronger as she admitted, slightly melancholy, “I-I’m just nervous...”

Pipsqueak smiled the same gentle, understanding smirk that filled Sweetie Belle with a wave of warmth as he leaned slightly over top of her. Their hips stayed locked, but Pip’s right hoof released from her thighs to reach up to cradle Sweetie’s cheek, wiping away the strands of hair as his face came closer to hers.

He whispered, almost in a joking way, “Of course, you’re done this before, haven’t you?” He chuckled.

Sweetie Belle’s stomach dropped immediately and she couldn’t help but fidget slightly under the stallion’s weight. She—she hadn’t done this before. Had he? Was she making a mistake? What was she going to do?

The silence was starting to drag on as Sweetie Belle averted her eyes, avoiding his look.

Pipsqueak’s smile started to fade as he tried to turn his head to see Sweetie’s eyes, but she would just keep looking away again.

It took a few minutes for the realisation to finally set in, and when it did, Pipsqueak’s eyes widened. His dick pulsed with his heartbeat as it seemed to harden all over again, and Sweetie Belle, still trying to hide behind her curls, slowly nodded her head.

Pipsqueak leaned back, slowly pulling away from Sweetie Belle. The action somehow left a deep hollow feeling in the bottom of her stomach, like she’d completely messed up and ruined everything. All she could do was mumble. “Pipsqueak, I’m s—”

“N-no. It’s okay,” he muttered, cutting her off. Pipsqueak’s ears visibly twitched as his brow furrowed. Sweetie could still feel him between her legs, still held firmly in place by Pip’s strong hips, as he mulled in silence on his own for a second, and then, finally, he spoke. “Do you want to –”

“Take it slow?” they both said.

Pipsqueak nodded. “Yeah...”

Sweetie Belle nodded and Pipsqueak extracted himself from between her legs, allowing Sweetie to pull herself into a half sitting position, and then more comfortably with her back against the headboard, supported by the mix of pillows strewn on the bed.

Pipsqueak inched his way across the mattress to sit beside her, all the while drawing Sweetie’s gaze to between his legs where his member still hung out, rigid and hard. She almost felt bad for leading him on like that—“Do you... do you want me to show you a trick?” Pip whispered into her ear, almost giving Sweetie a jolt.

She snapped her eyes away from Pipsqueak’s lap to his face, her cheeks as red as his as she noticed the way he was looking at her—clearly aware of where her attention had just been.

“So?”

Sweetie desperately tried to resist the urge to look at Pipsqueak’s dick any more, failing several times as she felt the burning heat between her own legs urging her to peek just a few more times before answering. “A trick?” she asked, “L-Like a game?”

“Y-Yeah,” Pipsqueak said, awkwardly. He was avoiding eye-contact as he took each of Sweetie’s hooves in his own and guided them slowly down below his barrel.

Sweetie stared with wide eyes as he positioned her hooves over each side of his shaft, carefully positioning them so the frogs—the delicate underside of her hooves—were flatly pressed against the equally soft flesh of the stallion’s cock.

She could immediately feel everything, the slightly spongy texture and the faint, turgid state of the blood vessels winding their way beneath the surface under her hooves.

Pip held her steady with his hooves over hers, whispering into Sweetie Belle’s ear: “Just like that,” he instructed, then starting a slow, steady upwards motion, he started her off stroking along the length of his dick. “Now just keep stroking it like that, okay?”

Sweetie swallowed. Pipsqueak shifted his position on the bead, eliciting a few unruly squeaks from the springs, and Sweetie Belle followed suit, taking a more comfortable position with them just about facing each other. She glanced up at Pipsqueak’s face, smiling despite what must obviously be the deepest blush burning all the way from her cheeks to her ears.

She whispered. “O-Okay,” and as Pip’s hooves left her own, she continued the motion, up and down, carefully rubbing the undersides of her hooves along the taut skin.

Though it looked shiny and smooth, Pipsqueak’s dick was rough. The skin had little bumps and fissures all along it, giving it a unique texture unlike anything she had felt before—not even the wet slickness of her own sex could compare. It was also warm and squishy, and pulsed with the steady thumping of Pipsqueak’s heart.

It had a ridge about half way up and whenever she cleared that, she saw the tip start to grow puff out any time she started to near the end, at which point she’d immediately start going back down. It was warm. So incredibly warm, and with every motion she almost instinctively knew what to do, picking up the pace each time, awing at the flare as it pulsed and drooled eagerly with her practice.

Pipsqueak was all but silent through all of this, just the single or double pant whence-ever she would get particularly close to the tip. She’d just about forgotten where she was, and was given a jump when Pipsqueak suddenly whispered into her ear, his voice hoarse with panting, “C-Celestia—“ he swore, “You’re a natural at this.”

Sweetie’s ears pecked and she smiled at the compliment, brow furrowing as she tried to focus on keeping up the good work. If Pipsqueak was saying those sorts of things, then she must be doing something good, she thought.

“Try to go a little lower,” Pipsqueak said, “Squeeze it a bit, and—Ah—u-use your magic.”

Sweetie eagerly complied. She squeezed her hooves more tightly together, making it a game of whether she could manage to reach all around the diameter of the shaft—something she could almost do when she was nearing the end, but became impossible any time she went past the big ridge half-way down. She also pressed lower, past the biggest ridge and almost far enough to touch his balls below, but never beyond that.

She did this a few more times. Three, four; on the fifth stroke she tried to use a little of her magic. Following the same motion as her hooves, Sweetie formed a small bundle of her aura around the tip, squeezing it gently as her hooves focused in on the base.

The result was immediate—and almost shocking—as Pipsqueak’s member suddenly jumped and pulsed. The tip hardened and flared as a trickle of clear fluid started to trickle from the tip, passing right through her aura to splatter on the stallion’s own stomach and the bed sheets below.

Still Sweetie continued, backing off a little—she didn’t want to hurt him—and the end of his dick started to return to normal, though still very clearly engorged.

She could feel her heart racing as the scent of a stallion started to permeate the air—mixed with her own arousal she hadn’t even noticed before. It was like a magical link had been formed between them, synchronising their emotions, their heartbeats.

Sweetie could just about predict what she had to do next—the exact spot to prod, or squeeze, that would get another tiny trickle of arousal to stream from the end of Pipsqueak’s member—accompanied by an equal torrent trailing from between her own legs.

Sweetie’s tail tried in vain to clamp the flow, but with her position being what it was—it was proving difficult to keep her arousal from going anywhere but into the sheets. Even so, she fidgeted against the covers, rubbing her lips against the soft—yet coarse, and now growing increasingly-wet—mounds of fabric beneath her.

As her magic traced along the tip of Pipsqueak’s penis, gently coaxing another tiny bead of clear fluid from the tip, she silently wandered to herself what it must be like. Was it sweet? What did it taste like? She’d never tasted a stallion before...

A whole manner of questions raced through her mind as she watched the drip grow and tremble, glistening against the end of Pipsqueak’s penis like a tiny pearl, illuminated by the surrounding glow of her magic.

Her hooves were preoccupied by stroking the base of the shaft, but, maybe...

Sweetie’s ears flicked as a hint of mischievousness flashed in her eye. She’d have to be quick, but...A glance up to Pipsqueak’s face revealed the stallion to be looking away just that moment.

She had an opening.

She smacked her lips, focusing a little of her magic into a separate blob, pulling away with the tiny drop of pre suspended within. She could feel the butterflies dancing in her stomach as she drew the bulb closer to her face.

Pipsqueak fidgeted, causing her to pause a moment, and then resume her motions more carefully as she levitated the drop of clear liquid onto her outstretched tongue, and released it to flow into her mouth...

What was she doing? a tiny, sensible part of her brain reminded her. She was a filly. Foals shouldn’t be doing things so... lewd. What would Rarity think if she saw her like this? Or Cheerilee?

She certainly knew what Scootaloo would think, that was for sure.

The fluid was thicker than she had imagined. It also wasn’t as sweet, more like a tart flavour, not at what she’d expected, but it was still somehow intoxicating—like a condensed version of what was hanging in the air.

She spent a few more seconds, just letting the taste of it sit on her tongue and slowly fade as she turned her attention back to focusing on Pipsqueak’s penis. There was already another thick bead forming, but before she could do anything to get another taste, she felt the weight of a hoof press on her shoulder, and Pipsqueak’s voice in her ear gave her the shivers.

“What’s it like?” he said.

His voice was in a low rasp, nothing more than a whisper, but she could tell without looking that he was smiling. Her cheeks started burning and Sweetie’s eyes glanced up to meet him, as the stallion was looking down at her with a half-smirk, and a very dad-like expression saying ‘I saw that, filly’.

Sweetie’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment she forgot completely about his penis, letting it go like hot fire. “I—I’m sorry, I—”

Pipsqueak’s hoof caught hers and guided it back to where it belonged, pressed firmly against the side of his shaft. “It’s okay,” he said. Again with that smirk. “I kind of liked it.”

Sweetie’s ears pricked as the words sent a wave of tiny shivers of excitement throughout her entire body. She felt the muscles in her thighs twitch as she involuntarily rubbed her lips against the tingling, coarse fabric of the bed’s sheets.

And then Pipsqueak whispered: “Do you trust me?”

Sweetie glanced to where her hooves were, still pressed against Pipsqueak’s dick. A thin but steady trickle of clear fluid was flowing from the tip as it gently pulsed against her grip. She gave it a little squeeze letting her magic return to the end of it to resume her previous motions.

Smiling, Sweetie nodded. “Y-Yeah, I do...”

“Then close your eyes.”

Sweetie Belle quivered as the pace and regularity of her motions wavered. She fumbled with her hooves a moment longer before finally finding her rhythm and allowing her eyes to drift closed.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded with a short, shaky motion. “Uhuu...”

“Good,” Pipsqueak said. “Now stay like that and focus on what you’re doing. Don’t forget to use your magic.”

Sweetie scrunched her muzzle, and cast another little bit of magic.

Just like before, she let her aura envelop the end of Pipsqueak’s penis, and again she started stroking gently from the base up to the ring. She carefully squeezed the shaft, feeling the ridges and veins pulsing underneath her hooves as her magic worked against the tip, but somehow there was something different about this.

Almost as soon as her magic made contact were her senses filled by what she was feeling through her aura. The soft, warm, pulsing flesh she had enveloped became her entire reality. She could feel every curve, every inch and crevice of Pipsqueak’s dick. She could sense what it wanted, what it felt, almost—and it was making her feel hot, aroused.

The tingling and yearning sensation was growing with every stroke. Every touch with her hooves gave a little feedback through her horn, and a little bit of pleasure to her own lips. It was almost like she was stroking herself, and as Pipsqueak slowly neared full mast—she could feel it getting harder, stiffer, more difficult to control.

It was taking more of her magic to envelop the tip and keep up the motions. She found herself frowning, her brow creased with concentration as she tried to keep up her practice.

Pipsqueak’s voice came in hot pants beside her. “Good,” he said, clearly out of breath and struggling. “Keep it up, just a little longer.”

Sweetie blushed, and redoubled her efforts. Licking her lips, she absentmindedly rubbed herself against the mattress, spreading her arousal around and making the wet spot spread. She found another peak in the mattress that brushed her in just the right spot and held the position there; meanwhile the bedsprings creaked as Pipsqueak shifted his weight.

A hoof pressed into Sweetie Belle’s shoulder, guiding her forwards slightly. She felt herself being brought closer to Pipsqueak’s chest—she could feel his warmth, and his breath, panting above her as her cheeks came precious close to brushing the fur on his nape.

Then his voice came in her right ear, hoarse with as much arousal as she felt. “Just relax,” he said, then a breath of hot air tickles past her ears where Pipsqueak’s nose tickles her mane.

She could feel her mouth watering, and as Sweetie’s hooves changed direction, gliding back down Pipsqueak’s dick to meet the base—lubricated by his arousal as they went—she felt an alien touch graze against the stray hairs of her mane.

It wasn’t much, but enough to tickle her, and cause Sweetie’s concentration to break. Her rhythm lost, Sweetie paused momentarily with her hooves going lower than they normally would. “Wh-What was—”

It was too late. AS Sweetie opened her mouth to speak, her world was shaken as something warm and wet grazed her aura, and then wrapped itself around her horn, drawing out a long, surprised moan from deep within Sweetie’s being.

“Oh—oh...” she gasped.

The sensation was followed by a series of short, gentle strokes as a tongue started to snake its way along the ridges of her horn, working its way back from the very tip down to the base, and then back up as Pipsqueak pulled the rest of her horn into his mouth.

“Oh~” she moaned. Her entire body started to relax as the sensations turned to pleasure, and the pleasure to a sparkling, tingling sensation that went through her entire body.

She could hear instructions: Keep stroking, and so she did.

Her hooves were trembling as she struggled to keep up with both the sensations and the task of stroking Pipsqueak’s dick. Her magic was unfocused, erratic, not helped by having to cast through another pony entirely, but she quickly started to find her way around the sensations.

Just like before, the sensations of feedback were there, intensified; it almost felt like—Oh my gosh. Pipsqueak was already on the edge and the sudden flood of pleasure through the connection caused her to gasp on the spot, and almost collapse if it weren’t for Pipsqueak to hold her upright.

The pleasure coursing through her body was like nothing she had ever experience before, and it was only growing the more intense—as her hooves stroked further down Pipsqueak’s shaft, she could feel it on her own body, the same motion pressing deep within her depths, and her muscles reacted in kind, contracting and tensing around an invisible member.

Another stroke and it hit her again, this time more directly, like the tip of his penis was a button she was pressing deep within herself.

Sweetie wiggled her hips, starting to lift slightly off the bed. The feeling of the cold air against her sensitive lips added a new type of tingling to her experience. It was confusing, weird, otherworldly—Her entire body felt like a coiled spring that was ready to explode.

And then there was her horn. Pipsqueak hummed against her forehead, causing a small tremor of vibrations to pass through her entire body, and then he started suckling, gently at first, but slowly picking up pace to meet the motions of Sweetie’s hooves.

She moaned, and he hummed, and a new wave of pleasure washed through her.

It was a slow and steady build—To what, she didn’t know, but Sweetie kept going, stroking faster, changing her position, squeezing and adding a little pressure, whatever change of pace produced the latest new sensation to throb through her body.

She could feel herself edging towards something, ever closer, ever further, little inch by little inch.

When it felt as if she couldn’t get any closer, Pipsqueak grasped the back of her head with his hooves and held her steady. Then, pulling back, and with just the tip of his tongue, he sucked and flicked the end of her horn.

It was like the world itself seemed to shudder and break. Sweetie Belle’s breath was taken away as a new sensation washed through her—a sudden wave of relief, followed by a building and uncontrollable explosion as her entire body tensed and shook uncontrollably. Sweetie’s racing heart triggered a moment of panic as the filly in a mare’s body experienced what, to most mares, would be called the first and single most intense, full-body orgasm a unicorn could possibly experience.

“Aaha—ah-AAAYYEEEEEE—” Sweetie Belle squealed, her voice breaking several octaves as her entire body was struck violently by the first wave of her orgasm, then another, and another—pleasure upon pleasure washing over each other.

For a moment, everything she felt—they felt was one and the same. Her entire body had become part of her horn, and her horn was overtaken with an unimaginable sensation of sparks and unfocused magic, trying in vain to scatter in every direction but instead being forced one way—into Pipsqueak’s mouth, down his body, and right back into her.

The pleasure, the sensations, everything, started to mix together as her body rapidly built to an overwhelming crescendo. She instinctively tried to pull away, but was unable to escape the rainbow bombardment of chaotic sensations.

Again, she squealed, as Sweetie Belle squirted and shivered, shaking violently. “Wh-wh-what’s happeniiiiiiiign....”

~ ~ ~

When Sweetie Belle finally opened her eyes she was no longer sitting on the bed. She was splayed out on her back with Pipsqueak nestled on top.

Her vision uncrossed and refocused onto a stallion who was panting just about as much as she was, with a goofy smirk across his face and an expression that said everything she needed to know: That was amazing!

Her thighs and dock were absolutely soaked and both of their bodies were glistening, coats and manes matted with sweat. Pipsqueak was still hard against her belly, maybe even more so, as it throbbed to life upon their awakening.

“How was that?” he asked between breaths.

Sweetie licked her lips, taking a second to catch her breath before imitating Scootaloo at a Wonderbolts game: “That was.... SO... Awesome...” she whispered. “How did you even learn to do that?”

Pipsqueak snickered. “From you, of course,” he said.

Sweetie frowned at the odd choice of words. “I did?” she said, not really thinking of the consequences of her words—she immediately saw Pipsqueak’s eyebrows go up the moment she did, but in a flurry of motion, she quickly corrected herself, voice cracking. “I-I did!” she nodded, frantically. “O-Of course I did! I knew that!”

Pipsqueak’s eyebrows remained raised, but he thankfully didn’t follow up on that—Nice one, Sweetie—as she glanced between them to where Pipsqueak was again pressed between her thighs. With his body there to keep her legs apart and his dick eagerly throbbing in the tight space between her breasts, Sweetie could feel the heat building inside her again...

She bit her lip as his dick seemed to almost wink at her, suggesting what it wanted—the same thing she knew she did. Pipsqueak’s dick was still drooling as a bead of clear fluid leapt from the tip to mix with the others already on her belly.

Pipsqueak giggled, smiling as he whispered, “Not feeling so nervous now, are we?”

Sweetie Belle licked her lips and closed her mouth, pulling her tongue back in where it belonged. Had she really been drooling? The wet spot under her chin was there to attest: yes!

She looked up and back into Pip’s eyes. Her heart fluttered and another pulse seemed to go through her as that distant, heated, yearning sensation fired up again with a renewed vigour—depositing a trickle of her arousal against the underside of her tail.

“What do you want me to do now?” Pipsqueak asked, flashing a knowing smirk.

Sweetie didn’t have to think for a second. She knew exactly what she wanted and, more importantly, how to get it.

Her hind legs gripped Pipsqueak’s body on both sides as she angled her hips for him—almost feeling sorry for the sudden retreat his dick made from between her breasts., but she knew what was coming would be much, much better than that.

She hooked her forelegs over Pipsqueak’s shoulders, pulling the stallion into a full-body hug, eyes narrowing as his muzzle came within inches of her own.

Sweetie crossed the rest of the distance, pressing the ends of their noses together. “Let’s finish what we started,” she said.

Pipsqueak’s face flashed through a look of momentary confusion before settling into a sultry smirk, then not even waiting a single heartbeat, he arched his back, rolling his hips forward, and squaring up the end of his dick with Sweetie Belle’s dripping, winking, and desperately wanting entrance.

Sweetie’s entire body felt like a coiled spring winding tighter as Pipsqueak’s dick retracted away with his wind-up, and then the moment the tip touched her—just the sensation of it, without doing anything, just being there sent jolts of electricity through her system.

It was the same, and yet totally different than what she had experienced before. Her lips quivered and she felt the tiny pricks of pleasure as her entrance’s doorkeeper shot out to welcome its visitor with a wet slurp.

“Are you ready?”

Sweetie squeezed her eyes shut, a fresh wave of hot red washing over her face.

She nodded and Pipsqueak slowly started to press his hips forward. Her lips almost immediately gave way. They spread apart under the pressure, gripping his skin as he effortlessly slid deeper, shoving the doorkeeper out of the way as it tried in vain to pull back in through the tightening entrance.

Sweetie felt herself panting for breath as she held on, her legs twitching with every new inch that was pushed deeper into her depths until; finally, she felt a pressure forming deep within her core. The advances came to an end with Pipsqueak’s balls resting firmly against her thighs.

She squeaked and mewled as another tiny orgasm rocked through her body, making her legs spasm and twitch around Pipsqueak’s girth.

Pipsqueak whispered into her ear, leaning close enough to kiss. “I’m going to start thrusting,” he said.

Before Sweetie could so much as think of a response, she felt Pipsqueak beginning to retreat. No, winding up. She could feel every inch of him as his dick slowly reversed course, leaving behind an emptiness she hadn’t known was there.

Sweetie was left with nothing but to squirm uncomfortably as the tip of Pipsqueak’s flare started to pull at her entrance. Just as it felt like he was about to pop out completely, Pipsqueak took a deep breath.

He grit his teeth and slammed forward and a loud slap filled the room as his balls made contact with Sweetie Belle’s behind.

“OH” Sweetie Belle gasped as the air was thrust from her lungs, a gesture that quickly turned into a moan as the waves of pleasure followed amid the creaking of the bed as Pipsqueak bounced back and repeated the next thrust through her entire body.

Then came another, and then the next, every thrust forming a tidy rhythm, picking up pace and thoroughly rutting Sweetie Belle further into the bed. Every time he hilted in her Sweetie gave out a tiny moan, or a squeak.

Her legs held tightly around Pipsqueak’s back to hold on tight. Her hind legs danced freely, unable to get a grip on the stallion as he proceeded to mercilessly slam into her, every pound pushing her further up the bed, between the pillows, until she could feel her head knocking against the wooden headboard.

It was all she could do to keep from being lost to the pleasure building inside her but to bite her lip and swear.

“B—”

“Say it,” Pipsqueak urged.

“Bu—” She couldn’t. Still remembering what Rarity said about fillies who swore, she pursed her lips and tried to ignore the building pressure between her legs.

“Say it,” Pipsqueak said, a little more urgently.

He was practically begging, and Sweetie squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel her magic welling at the tip of her horn, sparks lighting the darkness through her shut eyes, a dam ready to break.

She didn’t want to break her promise to Rarity...

“Say it,” Pipsqueak repeated, in tandem with another deep thrust into her depths. Sweetie felt that familiar pressure deep inside her as Pipsqueak bottomed out, and just like that it was gone as he pulled back, setting off her nerves all along the way.

Urging her.

“Say it.”

Urging.

Harder.

Harder.

Harder

She didn’t want to break her promise, but... Maybe...just this one time... would be... alright...

She felt her orgasm growing before it started. It was like a wall fast approaching, an immovable barrier with no way around. Letting out the pressure as the bough broke, Sweetie’s voice started as a low whisper, then breaking as it rose through several notes she didn’t know she could produce....

“FFfffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkck....”

Her right leg started to tremble as the second largest orgasm of her life rocked through her, whilst Pipsqueak’s thrusting slowed, taking long and deep strokes to work her through every minute of it.

As Sweetie came down through the light on the other side she could tell Pipsqueak’s motions had changed. They were getting rougher, more animalistic and sloppy. His body was shaking and Pipsqueak was gasping for breath—just like her—as with every thrust he teetered on the edge.

The dam inside Sweetie had already begun to fill again, the slower, sloppy, thrust somehow working even better. She panted, throwing caution to the wind. “Yes, fuck yes. Yes.”

Pipsqueak grunted. Struggling to hold back, he forced himself to catch his breath to say, “I-I’m c-close.”

“Yes~” Sweetie cooed. She didn’t care about anything else. It was just her, Pipsqueak, and this immense pleasure. If this was what being an adult meant, she never wanted to go back to being a filly again. Maybe this change was permanent. She hoped this change was permanent. She looked forward to spending her life doing this with Pipsqueak; Rarity and her ‘being ladylike’ be damned.

Fuck Rarity. This is what life was about.

She didn’t even register the question in her ears. Protection? Something about tea? Why was he asking about tea, of all things, right now!?

Another thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through Sweetie Belle’s core, blowing away all thoughts that remained. Breathlessly, she moaned: “Yes!”

She threw her head back as Pipsqueak redoubled his efforts, all restraints gone as he rutted her faster. It was only a few seconds before she felt it, the pressure inside her as Pipsqueak hilted inside.

His balls slapped against her ass one last time, and then a pulse ran through his entire length as something tightened deep inside her—locking the stallion in place—and then the first pulse rushed through his member. Sweetie could feel her entire body warming from the inside, a core filling sensation pushing the pleasure of her orgasm further.

The flare and girth of Pipsqueak’s member strained against her folds, forming a tight seal as it twitched and throbbed.

She couldn’t control herself. Sweetie’s voice cracked as she began to squeal, her tongue dropping out of her mouth a moment as she threw her head back, overtaken by the intense pleasure, and the pressure building and releasing within her.

It was like the coil had finally snapped, and her legs moved on their own, clamping tightly around Pipsqueak’s thighs. Finally with purchase, they stiffened and locked in place, holding the colt against her as unleashed torrents of his potent seed deep within.

“Y-Yes—” She moaned again, but her pleasured squeaks were cut short by Pipsqueak’s lips as he leaned and sealed the deal with a kiss.

“Thank you...” he whispered, panting between breaths.