Twilight Sparkle and the Stupid Original Pony

Despite being hoofed to near-oblivion, a desire for more eventually drew me back towards consciousness. Years without my beloved had resulted in deep accumulations of desire and I needed more from her, even if it killed me.

Twilight was asleep on her back and I made a beeline for her cock. Completely flaccid, her mighty poner of hours past had retreated entirely out of sight. I wrapped my hand around the base, caressing the soft hair of her sheath, and began slide up and down its length. Fucking me had taken a lot out of her and I wasn’t sure at first if she’d get it up for me. But as an adept serving the cult of Aphrodite, I had certain abilities; magic flowed around my hands as I gently jerked my husband’s dick. Twilight didn’t wake yet, but before long the tip emerged– at least her body was responding to my power! She grew more, and I bent my head down so I could kiss that magic spot just below the glans.

Growing somewhat harder, there was enough dick available now for me to really work with and I moved my grip from the sheath to the bare shaft. I really wanted it inside again, but needed to get her fully erect first. And of course it would be nice to have her awake so she could enjoy it too. As soon as there was enough exposed that it took both hands to hold, I relinquished jacking and climbed on top. Still sticky and gooey from our earlier adventures, I wasn’t nearly wet enough for any kind of entry. Instead I lowered down so I could grind myself along the length of her dick, the pressure spreading my labia. Finally she awoke.

“Tanna, what are you—”

I leaned forward and silenced her with a kiss.

But leaning in like that interfered with sliding around; I sat up and resumed action. I was beginning to lubricate and the silky sensation of every vein and ridge of her cock was delightful against the inner surface of my outer lips.

“This is called ‘hot-dogging’,” I explained, “because the—”

“Because of how it looks, I get it. But shouldn’t the hot dog be between your buns?”

“No, Twilight, you’re gonna kill me if you stick a pony wiener up my bunghole. The pussy is much more flexible.”

“Would you care to demonstrate just how flexible?”

I had slathered her entire length by now and a demonstration would certainly be in order, though it was a shame to interupt my current ride.

Rising to my feet, I stood over Twilight. Without my weight to hold it down, her cock –it was delightfully ready for me– sprang to attention, pointing almost straight at its impending destination. Lining myself up, I bent my knees until we made contact.

A little lower and the flat glans started to press against me.

“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” I quipped.

“—”

Twilight’s reply was lost in a moan as I pushed her first few centimetres inside.

Once more I was astounded by my body’s ability to encompass even part of such a massive cock. Lower and lower I explored the possibility of taking the glorious entirety of it within me. When it risked bottoming out inside me I was still hovering slightly above her body: this wasn’t all of it, there might be more than I could handle from this angle. Careful to respect my limits I rose up and dropped down again, repeated the cycle. After a few minutes like this, the fire of my lust was starting to be matched by the fire of muscle strain in my thighs. Seeing me falter, Twilight raised her forelegs and I grabbed hold to steady myself, pressing my palms against the warm frogs of her feet. With her support I tried to keep going, but I just didn’t have much stamina left in my legs.

Instead, I rocked forward, down onto my knees, careful not to break myself upon her immensity. Backing up, I found that the entire length now fit quite handily, approaching from this direction. It was deep and comfortable, rigid and fulfilling.

“Yee-haw,” I drawled, “is that your saddle-horn, buckaroo, or are you just happy to see me?”

Before Twilight could answer I sealed her lips with my own. Being able to kiss her while I rode her dick was better than magic. Kissing and fucking, I buried one hand in her mane, used the other to jack her horn. My multi-prong attack was too much – when I felt her pre-orgasmic twitch inside me I slowed to a stop and broke the kiss.

“Cooldown,” I said, “and then we’ll switch and you can fuck me pony style.”

“Buck, yeah,” she moaned as i bent down to re-claim her lips.

As we kissed, I kept my body stationary upon hers. She was buried deep inside and I squeezed her hardness by rhythmically contracting my pelvic muscles. It would be fun to get her off this way, but not tonight.

Eventually I rolled off and presented my posterior.

When she sidled around behind me, I felt her gaze surveying the options before her.

“Nuh-uh. Pussy,” I insisted.

“I was just looking!”

“Pussy,” I said again and she complied, mounting me and resting one fore-hoof on my shoulder, the other on the bed

With a push, she was back inside. Maybe half of her length, I estimated, firing off an entirely different collection of nerve endings than our previous positions.

Pausing there, she asked, “good?”

“Great.”

Sliding further into my heated depths, she paused again, groin almost pressing against my butt.

“Still good?”

“Greater.”

“Grammar, love,” she murmured as she began to slowly fuck me.

“More great-fucking-tastic, I mean.”

“Unf,” she acknowledged my correction by withdrawing and driving again.

Coital conversation collapsed as carnal congress continued.

Twilight was diligently moderating the depth of her thrusts but leaning further forward, her weight was pushing me down until my face was almost pressed down against the bed, my ass in the air as she covered me.

“I’m glad you’re a pony,” I gasped between thrusts, “not a horse.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if I could take it all in this position. If you had a horse’s dick you’d be pushing my cervix up through my neck.”

“Did you know that the word cervix actuallymeans neck?”

“Did you know that the word dork is juvenile slang for the phallus?”

“Just what is the implicature of your observation?”

“That I’m getting fucked by a walking dictionary. Now rail me, you dork!”

The pounding grew more insistent as we both neared another peak.

Rather than release a cry that would surely overwhelm the sound suppression system, I was biting down on the fitted sheet, trying not to scream passion at the top of my lungs. This pleasure was spearing the very core of my being. Dimly I was aware of fabric tearing.

“Still good?” she asked again, checking once more before she let herself really go.

“Just,” I whispered through my teeth, “a bit more.”