Drawing a deep breath, trying desperately to calm herself, Tempest screwed her eyes closed - granted, between the thumping music and blares of the crowd, attempting to relax wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, but she tried nonetheless. She couldn’t afford to lose her nerve, not when her time was almost up. While she’d stormed into battle, laid waste to cities, and done unspeakable things as the commander for the Storm King, nothing could have prepared her for that moment.
The year or so since she’d sided with the ponies and helped to defeat her ex-boss had been less than ideal for her - sure, the denizens of Equestria had accepted her with open forelegs, though that did little to quell her guilt over the ordeal. Reintegrating into society had been far, far harder than she had expected; not only did her reputation precede her at every turn, but she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Shattered horn aside, a lifetime of strict training had left her with a physique that rivaled most stallions. Tall, slender, and exceptionally well toned, her body was quite literally built for combat. Obvious differences aside, she had another, far less typical trait that made her feel like even more of an outcast; she was a dickmare.
Though the condition wasn’t unheard of, mares equipped with a stallionhood were an extremely rare sight - sure, she typically hid it while around others, but that didn’t make her feel like any less of an outsider. Casually interacting with ponies had never been easy, even before she’d abandoned her race, so attempting to get along and make friends after nearly toppling their society felt like a herculean task - still, despite her differences, some part of her still retained her marish needs. As arduous as her life had become, everything had eventually come to a head a month prior.
While attempting to buy groceries at a shop, she found herself being flirted with by a rather svelte young stallion. The attention was flattering, albeit wholly unexpected, and she quickly stuck up a conversation - that was, until things took a jarring turn. Much to her chagrin, the twinkish pony had mistaken her for a guy. The situation had been beyond embarrassing and was yet another blow to her floundering self-esteem.
With few other ponies to turn to, she’d vented to Twilight Sparkle after the unfortunate interaction. She didn’t want to look like a stallion, nor be treated as one, though she didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to remedy the situation. After listening to her rant for nearly an hour, the Princess offered an unconventional and rather brazen solution; why not show off her body to stallions who would appreciate her - all of her.
Though Tempest had initially balked at the concept, the Princess explained herself. There were several venues which supposedly allowed creatures of all shapes and sizes, including elusive dickmares like herself, to entertain a crowd. When the former villain had asked why she would ever put on such a debaucherous display, Twilight answered candidly that, allegedly, it wasn’t an uncommon way for mares of all sorts to bolster their self-esteem.
Parading around on stage and lewdly showing off their bodies to a throng of thirsty, boisterous onlookers may serve to improve her confidence. Truth be told, the more she thought about the idea, the more it made sense. Seeing and hearing a bunch of worked-up stallions lavishing her with praise and bits would ease her mind and make her feel more feminine. Apparently sensing her warm to the notion, the Princess had offered a bit of alchemical assistance.
Sorcerously teleporting herself a potion from Celestia-knows-where, Twilight had handed her a small phial of strange, turquoise liquid. Peering down at the suspect bottle, flipping it over in her hooves, Tempest’s unasked question was answered. The label, besides having a somewhat crass depiction of a mare’s bosoms, stated that it temporarily increased the drinker’s bust size.
Thanking the Princess for her time and concern, she made her leave and returned to her humble little apartment. No sooner had she gotten through the door, closing and locking it behind herself, did she down a portion of the potion. Though she remained composed while talking with Twilight, the unorthodox concept of stripping for a bunch of randy stallions had really gotten her worked up.
Sure enough, after a matter of minutes, her breasts had nearly doubled in size. Ballooning from almost unnoticeable teats, the mounds of flesh swelled to those of an expectant mother - sure, the rest of her was unaltered, but simply seeing her newfound cleavage was enough to bolster her morale. With little else to lose, she made up her mind right then and there; she was going to follow through with Twilight’s plan.
The following day, well after the elixir’s effects had subsided, she’d gone out to prepare. Visiting the club had been her first stop, signing up for a slot on their open stage night, but that was only the first item on her agenda. Once she’d reserved a spot for herself that friday evening, she went off to one of the local boutiques for a few accessories.
Having perilously few marish garments meant she’d need to bite the bullet and make an investment, especially since she’d be bearing her goods in a matter of days - as such, she purchased a garter belt, leggings, a thong, and even a decorative corset for her stallionhood. If she was going to show off for a crowd, she figured there was no half-assing the job. With her errands complete, she went home to prepare.
Her next two days had been downright grueling. She’d spent hours concocting and practicing a routine for the event, all while wearing her newly acquired and profoundly salacious garments. She’d even gone so far as to withdraw a few books from the Canterlot library on the subject of dancing and to set up a mirror to critique herself! Sadly, even with all of her hard work and preparation, she was left woefully unprepared when the time came.
“Mares and gentlecolts, let’s give a round of applause for Moon Dancer!” the announcer blared, shaking Tempest from her stupor. “Up next, we have yet another first timer! Give a warm, Canterlot welcome to the one, the only, Fizzlepop Berrytwist!!!”
Cocking one hind leg, Tempest gave herself one final inspection. As her eyes settled upon her abdomen and the two succulent bosoms stuffed within her undergarment, she gulped. “Ok, girls, it’s showtime…”
Steeling her resolve, telling herself it couldn’t be any worse than plunging into a pitched battle, she pressed past the curtain and onto the stage. Arranged somewhat like a catwalk, with a circular dais at its end, the platform cleaved the showroom of the establishment. Dozens of ponies, changelings, and even a few kirin lounged about the chamber, drinking and chatting with one another, while they awaited the next performance. As she came into view, every head turned towards her.
The feeling of having so many eyes on her was indescribable; as awe inspiring as it was terrifying, she couldn’t say she’d ever experienced anything quite like it - still, regardless of the cold knot in her stomach, she wasn’t about to back down. Holding her head high, she strutted down the aisle and to the central platform.
The room was deathly still and silent, while she stoically trotted along. Though she couldn’t say why everypony was so quiet, she suspected it was out of shock. She knew full well they recognized her from her past exploits, yet that didn’t stop her. Reaching her destination, she halted by the stripper pole on the dais, evoked her sorcerous might, and sent a shower of dazzling, multi-color sparks sailing through the air.
A few ponies shied away, with one or two running for the exit, although the overwhelming majority of the onlookers stood their ground. Impassively scanning the crowd, making sure each and every face was looking at her, a smug grin split her muzzle. It didn’t matter if she was commanding a legion or standing atop a platform - either way, she never failed to command the attention of everyone and everything around her.
Leisurely, as a lilting tune started to play, she traipsed around the chrome pole. She’d taken care not to reveal her loins, up until that moment, but that time had passed. Hooking one fetlock around the slim, metal pillar, she reared back, grabbed the cool shaft, and fully bared herself. Her sultry gaze and the unabashed view of her equipment caused the room to explode in an uproar of excited shouts and catcalls.
The song, like every part of her act, had been part of her carefully planned to compliment her display. Rotating around the pole, showing off every inch of her body to the spectators, she threw her head back. Now that she’d truly begun, her body moved of its own accord.
The near ceaseless drilling paid off magnificently - then again, she’d had no reason to doubt herself. Years of training and practice had imparted a mental and physical discipline that few others had, the only difference was the context for which she’d made ready. The sounds of combat were replaced by cheers - instead of explosions and war magic, strobe lights danced over her body - in place of crushing her foes, she wooed them with her body. It was deliciously intoxicating and it gradually began having an effect on her.
The exhilaration of hearing the excited cries, of peeking out and seeing so many eager faces, drowned out what little trepidation she had. Sliding down the pole, keeping her shoulder against it, her rump came to rest on the polished hardwood below. Grinning from ear to ear, she lifted and splayed her hind legs.
Bits rained from the heavens, showering her and the stage. The clatter of coins was a welcome sound, letting her know she’d recoup some of her investment from the outfit she’d purchased, but that wasn’t what won her over - no, that came from the thrill of it all. There she was, nearly naked, being lavished with praise from complete strangers. Scandalous setting or not, there was no denying that the audience enjoyed her body.
Steadily getting to her hooves, she reached back and popped the buttons of her garters. The brass fittings snapped free, one by one, until the delicate bands of fabric hung free. Taking care to give a sultry smirk to her viewers, she tugged at her panties. If the crowd liked her dressed, she couldn’t wait to hear their reaction when she actually started stripping.
The wild din of the club redoubled, as she slipped the panties down her thighs. It was a slow, sinful process - then again, it was supposed to be. Grasping the undergarment in both forehooves, she lowered her chest to the platform and hauled the article down her hind legs. Her bare rump came into view and her semi-flaccid stallionhood flopped free, while she cheekily glanced over her shoulder.
She thought the room had been loud before, but that didn’t hold a candle to the riotous uproar from the throng. Though she didn’t focus on anypony in particular, it wasn’t hard to notice that several of the onlookers had really gotten excited at the display. There were more than a few erections swaying or loudly slapping against bellies among the masses, which only sent her passions soaring.
Standing, she tauntingly shook her ass and continued her routine. All but naked, save for her leggings and the leather accoutrement around her equipment, her act took a rather raunchy turn. Gradually lifting one hind leg, giving everycreature a shameless look at her tool, she playfully giggled; the laughing wasn’t part of the act, but she couldn’t help herself.
It was funny; only a few minutes ago, she’d been terrified to get on stage and show herself. Not only had her fears been unwarranted, but she was actually getting turned on by all of the attention. She could tell without looking that she was getting hard, feeling her shaft swell and slip from its sheath. In the end, it really didn’t matter; she was going to finish her act and leave everyone begging for more.
On and on she went, provocatively sauntering about the pole while boldly dancing and weaving about to the beat. Though her performance was only designed to last for the length of the song, it felt like a small eternity. As the music reached its crescendo, with the finishing notes beginning to play, her finale was enacted. Gripping the beam and kicking off, she locked her ankles around the pillar and inverted herself. Hanging upside down was a bit precarious, and it took more strength than most could manage, but it gave the audience one heck of a conclusion.
The DJ’s outro was drowned out entirely, as the throng chanted her name. The sensation was stimulating beyond reason, though her time was up - at least, so she thought. Cooly sashaying down the runway, towards the curtain, a stallion caught her eye. Trotting by the pegasus, locking eyes with him, she smiled.
Of those in the masses, his shouts were among the loudest and hadn’t failed to catch her ear. Bearing a light blue coat and plumage, with an indigo colored mane, it took her a second to recognize him. Though they’d never formally met, she vaguely recalled he was one of the esteemed team of fliers known as the Wonderbolts. Irrespective of his rank, she appreciated his admiration.
“Wait,” he hollered, frantically waving a hoof, “do you do private shows?”
His question caused her to falter. The establishment did have a number of VIP rooms where entertainers could indulge clients in private, so the request wasn’t unwarranted. She’d already been given the green-light to use the exclusive chambers, since there weren’t any of the regular dancers working that evening, so she seized the opportunity. Keeping her expression relatively docile, her heavily lidded eyes flicked to a doorway to the side.
Without saying a word, the stallion scampered away. She hadn’t planned on having any sort of one-on-one interactions that evening, but her exhibition had done wonders for her spirit. Leaving the hoard to enjoy the next act, she disappeared behind the heavy fabric towards her awaiting fan. With no other plans that evening, she saw no reason she couldn’t bask in his admiration for a time.
Impatiently, or perhaps fearing he’d misinterpreted her silent order, the stallion peeked his head into the back. The way he looked around for her, with his stallionhood drooping beneath him, it was too adorable. Spotting her, he enthusiastically strolled over and extended a hoof.
“H...Hi, I’m Soarin,” he stammered, clearly his voice cracking slightly.
Dipping her head, Tempest fought to maintain her composure. Though she didn’t show it, her excitement nearly matched his. It was the first time a stallion had ever been that keen on speaking with her, let alone in such a debaucherous setting, so it left her feeling a bit hot under her nonexistent collar. Dipping her head, she calmly acknowledged him.
“Fizzlepop,” she dispassionately murmured.
Even though she was almost universally known as Tempest Shadow, a lingering vestige of her past life, she’d been making a concerted effort to amend that. Besides serving as a reminder for her misdeeds, her old title had and still occasionally did intimidate strangers - as such, she’d used her given name for her performance. Whether or not her efforts would pay off, only time would tell - nevertheless, that was a problem for later.
“This way,” she intoned, strolling past him and into a short hallway.
The corridor housed six small chambers for VIPs or private performances, even if she was well aware that it wasn’t uncommon for them to be used for more dubious affairs. It was no mystery that clients used the chambers for intimate encounters with entertainers who were willing, though patrons rarely discussed it openly. The poorly kept secret tred a hazy legal ground, one which had seen the establishment questioned by the royal guards on a number of occasions, yet they’d managed to avoid any real trouble for ages.
As she moved into one of the vacant chambers, watching her client rush in after her, she closed and locked the door behind herself. The room was cramped, only housing a large, standing mirror and a loveseat, leaving little room to maneuver - then again, it wasn’t intended to have much space. Looking over to him, as he excitedly fidgeted by the tiny sofa, she couldn’t rightly say exactly what he was expecting of her. Showing off her body was one thing, but actually doing something with a stranger, while tempting, pushed her limits a bit too far.
“So,” she began, meeting his eyes, “what were you trying to -”
“Can I suck your cock?” he blurted, cutting her off.
Hearing his brazen and wholly inappropriate request, her eyes widened. She’d figured he was excited to be in a room with her, but she wouldn’t have guessed he’d want that. Contrary to popular believe, she actually preferred to be on the receiving end in the bedroom - still, it was a darn tempting offer. Getting paid to have somepony blow her? Yeah, that was too good to pass up.
Smirking at him, she cast her head to the side. “In that case, let me just have a seat.”
Grinning like an idiot, Soarin moved aside and away from the little couch. Rearing up, she climbed atop the loveseat, wheeled around, and sank to her haunches. As she swung her hind legs over the edge, allowing them to part slowly, her package came into view. Though she was very much a mare, her endowment was anything but. Dwarfing most stallions, her equipment had always been on the larger side of things - speaking of equipment…
Her gaze wandered to her suitor’s groin, ultimately settling upon his dangling length. At a glance, he looked to be an average size, but she couldn’t be entirely sure. Even if he wasn’t packing monstrous heat, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate what he did have. Peering down at him, imagining how it would feel, blood surged to her tool.
“So I can just…” he trailed off, inching between her legs.
“Please,” she cooed, waving a hoof at her groin, “be my guest.”
No sooner did she finish speaking than the pegasus stepped forward and pressed his snout to her loins. Breathing deeply, his eyelids fluttered. Reclining, enjoying the show, she watched him relish her scent. Working his way upwards, away from her ripe balls, his teeth clamped down on the delicate silk ribbon holding her member’s corset. With a twist of his head, pulling the band of fabric, the leather accoutrement slipped free.
Licking his lips, hungrily eyeing her cock, Soarin leaned in, gave the tip of her shaft a small kiss, and wrapped his lips around her. The sensation of his tongue lapping at the sensitive underside of her shaft was the perfect accoutrement to the sight of him worshipping her. Tempest drew a deep breath, doing her best to remain silent, as he worked her into his muzzle.
It was clear he knew his way around a stallionhood, leaving her to wonder just how many dickmares he’d serviced before. Even with her large size, he managed the job with startling ease. With every bob of his head, a bit more of her length slipped into his maw; throughout it all, he’d occasionally peek up at her.
Though she had a heavy preference for bottoming, there was something undeniably charming about watching the stallion lavish her cock. It was rare enough to find someone willing to go that far with her and rarer still to have one ask to pleasure her. Humming contentedly to herself, her unshakable composure waned. Shifting one forehoof, she affectionately stroked his mane.
It wasn’t until her cock bumped against the back of his throat did his motions falter. Soarin winced and stifled a gag, swiftly withdrawing his head. She couldn’t blame him, given the monumental task he’d so enthusiastically committed himself to, though she did feel a bit bad. Even for those with a vast wealth of experience, her endowment would be a challenge.
“Sorry - Cough - sorry,” he croaked, pulling back and freeing his mouth. Strands of saliva and pre-cum hung between his lips and her engorged stallionhood, as he cleared his throat. To her shock, he seemed wholly undeterred by the small interruption. Pressing his cheek to her balls, lovingly fondling the twin orbs, he licked her inner thigh. “Sweet Celestia, you’re absolutely perfect.”
His adoration and flattery struck her like a gong, causing her cheeks to darken. Pursing her lips, she turned her head to the side and averted her gaze. She simply didn’t know how to respond to such an admission from somepony she’d just met, so she kept her mouth shut. As he started lapping and suckling at her nuts, she closed her eyes and focused on his ministrations.
She’d have to thank Twilight for the suggestion, even if she chose to omit certain obscene details about her evening. In a matter of minutes, she’d managed to whip a crowd into a lustful frenzy and bag a stallion who appreciated her for what she really was. It was an extraordinarily liberating feeling that rocked her to the core.
Lower and lower Soarin moved, lovingly kissing and licking his way down her taint, until he reached her pucker. She started, feeling his tongue tease the sensitive ring of flesh. While he’d only asked to give her a blowjob, she was well within her rights to put a swift end to his impetuous actions - still, she stayed her hoof. Shifting forward slightly, dangling her tush off the edge of the cushion, she lifted and rested one hind leg on his shoulder.
If he was so eager to please her, she found it hard to ask him to stop. It wasn’t like she would ask him to continue - at least, not yet - though it was quickly reaching that point. Biting her lip, with his tongue grinding into her taut hole, she stifled a whimper. Getting sucked off by a stallion had been a pleasant surprise, but could have never foreseen being rimmed by one.
With the small amount of carnal experience she had, she could safely say that nopony had ever given her such treatment before. On the perilously few occasions when she was lucky enough to get some action, the stallion had always mounted her and rutted her like she was any other mare - it was enjoyable enough, but it lacked any real passion. Soarin was another case entirely.
The way he groaned into her, sloppily making out with her rear, stirred something within her. His tongue felt heavenly, as it writhed around in her backdoor. Her pulse quickened, pre-cum dripped from her throbbing stallionhood, and the breath hitched in her throat. Slowly but surely, the tables began to turn. She was no longer letting him please her, she wanted him to.
She couldn’t rightly say how long he stayed down there, slicking her hole and basking in her musk, but Soarin eventually withdrew. As he stepped back, the leg on his shoulder reflexively flexed and halted his retreat. On some subconscious level, her body demanded he continue; sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
Standing to his full height, Soarin reached forward with a wing and wiped his muzzle. “N...not to gush or anything, but I would kill to have a marefriend like you. You wouldn’t happen to have any single dickmare friends, w...would you?” he awkwardly chuckled, smiling bashfully over at her.
Tempest’s heart skipped a beat and her lips parted, yet not a sound escaped her. Marefriend? Did he honestly consider her marefriend material, after everything she’d done? His question quite literally left her at a loss for words and gave her a moment for pause. Though he was more than likely being motivated by lust, the siren’s call of being with a stallion who embraced who and what she was was too much to bear.
Be darned if she could put her hoof on exactly what it was, but something about him just appealed to her. Perhaps it was his sheepish and amateurish nature, contrasted against his audacious request to please her, or maybe it was his boldness in approaching her in the first place - either way, the hooks were in and there was no backing away. Looking into his eyes, the corners of her lips turned up.
“No,” she whispered, swallowing hard, “but maybe I could be your marefriend tonight.”
Only a complete imbecile would fail to grasp the implications of her statement. She’d been pushed past her limit, stimulated in ways that left her weak in the knees, and so she caved. Even if he wasn’t truly dating material, the prospect of finding a special somepony did her in. The worst part was that she knew she’d been compromised, with her sexual desires blazing brightly, but she didn’t care. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, she wanted to feel wanted.
Soarin’s smile broadened, as he stepped between her hind legs. Rearing back, pressing his forehooves to either side of her head, he got into position. Tempest reciprocated, lifting her lower limbs and wrapping them around his waist. Staring at his handsome face, feeling the head of his stallionhood press to her pucker, she gnawed her lip.
“I’ll be gentle,” he softly muttered, shuffling forward and gently driving his hips forward.
She winced, as the tip of his shaft ground against her hole. The relatively sparse amount of lube didn’t make things easy, nor the fact that she hadn’t been plowed in ages, but his efforts eventually paid off. With an inaudible Pop, the battering ram-like head of his spear sank into her. Instinctively pressing a hoof to his chest, hoping he wasn’t in too much of a hurry, she halted his progress.
True to his word, he was remarkably accommodating. With only an inch or so of his stallionhood within her, paused and gave her a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Though he wasn’t as well endowed as she was, it felt absolutely titanic. Steadying her breathing, she fought to calm herself. Bit by bit, breath by breath, her tense ring relaxed.
“Like I said,” Soarin purred, bringing one wing towards her groin, “nice and gentle.”
As his plumage tenderly wrapped around her cock, softly stroking her length, she gasped. Without having asked for any additional attention, he’d taken the initiative and gone the extra mile. Peeking out, seeing the smug, somewhat clumsy grin plastered on his face, she nearly swooned. Be darned if she knew a thing about him, outside of him being an aerial acrobat, but he was one heck of a gentlecolt.
Reaching up, she placed her forehooves on his shoulders, looked him in the eye, and nodded. Her mute gesture didn’t go unnoticed, signalling to begin. Delicately, almost reluctantly, he started thrusting. The wing job definitely helped with the endeavor, sending ripples of pleasure through her, though that wasn’t what had her focus. As his length rubbed against her delicate p-spot, a hushed groan slipped past her lips.
The pinions on her tool felt nice, but having the delicate organ in her behind accosted was amazing. Peering down her chest, watching her stallionhood drool over her belly and alchemically enhanced bosoms, she shivered. She wasn’t sure if every dickmare was as sensitive as herself, since she’d never really asked another of her kind about it, but the sensation of being railed was indescribable.
Seated as she was, there wasn’t all that much she could do to reciprocate his bucking - that being said, she wasn’t without having a few tricks. Pacing his rhythm, she steadily clenched and relaxed her ass in tune with his thrusts. Her soft whimpers and heavy breaths were another, albeit smaller contribution to the amorous affair.
Seconds ticked by into minutes, before Soarin had all but hilted himself, but their act had only just begun. Pulling back, he hauled nearly half of his length free and commenced to deep-dicking her. As his girthy medial ring pummeled her p-spot, waves of bliss shot washed over her. It was nearly perfect - nearly.
Though she deeply appreciated his courteous and polite treatment thus far, the growing urge to be properly rutted seized her. Even if he wasn’t the largest or sturdily built stallion, she had no doubt that he was holding back. Flexing her legs, she pulled him to herself - still, he seemed almost hesitant to give it to her rough. With her efforts to inspire him having failed, she resigned herself to a more direct approach.
Extending her forelegs, she grasped his wings and drew him in. His motions faltered, suddenly finding himself muzzle to muzzle with her, and his eyes widened in surprise. As his chest and belly pressed against her, sandwiching her stallionhood between them, she craned her neck and brought her snout to his ear.
“Rut me, you stud…”
The demand had an immediate and profound effect. Like opening the throttle on a steam engine, his hips moved harder and faster with every passing second. Gone was the steady, methodical love-making he’d been giving her, replaced by the heated, almost feral passion of a wild animal. Her legs closed around him, holding him tightly, as he unleashed his full carnal fury upon her.
Her heart thundered in her chest, her eyes rolled back, and she could feel herself starting to flare. Despite the lack of stimulation to her cock, she knew she wasn’t going to last long. An imposing mare of ill repute she may have been, but she was still a mare. Some primal part of her, buried deep down, pined for moments like these.
She had a number of sex toys, dildos and the like, but nothing compared to the real thing. To feel somepony’s warmth, to actually be with another living soul, was something that masturbation could never compare to. She honestly couldn’t say she’d ever tire of it, especially since it had been so long since she’d felt the touch of another, so she made sure to enjoy every second of it.
Having a stallion’s weight on her, hearing their deep, masculine grunts and breath their scent, feel his length pistoning into her; truly, there was nothing in the world quite like it. Soarin may not have been the biggest or strongest pony she’d ever met, but he was exactly what she needed at that moment. Sensing him losing his rhythm, realizing he was reaching his limit, she gave voice to her desires.
“D...don’t stop…”
Her plea sent him into a frenzy, seemingly inspiring him to give it his all. His pendulous balls slapped against her rump and dock, mingling with the sound of their grunts and moans, though neither took note. They’d passed a threshold and there was no going back, though whom would cum first was a mystery. Racing to the finish line, they desperately sought their release.
Every muscle about the stallion tensed, he fiercely hilted his entirety within her, and he rested his head against her shoulder. His motions came to a shuddering halt, as he loudly huffed and snorted above her. It was an extraordinarily hot experience, but it was merely the opener of his finale. Throbbing wildly, locked in her depths, his stallionhood erupted within her.
Teetering on the brink, the scalding influx of foal-batter was Tempest’s undoing. Howling out and sinking her hooves into his back, she met her devastating end. Sparks and dazzling embers sputtered from her shattered horn, while her pucker fitfully spasmed around his pulsating shaft. Her stallionhood gushed spunk over their chests, sinking into their fur and marking them with her essence.
She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a climax so intense, quite literally leaving her speechless. The experience was awe inspiring, leaving her in a blissful, euphoric haze of unfettered joy. Some part of her was keenly aware of what she’d done, knowing she’d made a grand mess and may well regret her spontaneous decision in the morning, yet those were problems for later - for the time being, she simply wanted to savor the moment and relish the heat his seed afforded.
“H...holy cow,” Soarin half-wheezed, half-laughed, as he retracted his head. “That was -”
“Sssssssssh,” she hissed, pressing a hoof to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.”
They both needed a shower, they’d likely made a mess on the sofa, and she wouldn’t be shocked to learn she’d unintentionally damaged her outfit - still, the sublime ecstasy and validation of being wanted was more than she could have asked for. Though she wasn’t sure if she’d be audacious enough to put on another burlesque show anytime soon, or make a habit of spontaneously bedding stallions she’d just met, she had every intention of getting Soarin’s contact information - after all, they had done a magnificent job at scratching each other’s itch…
Exotic Tastes (Futa w/Vaginal)
Author's Note
Literally the same as the other one, but this one involves Tempest having a cock, balls, and puss.
Exotic Tastes (Futa w/Vaginal)
Drawing a deep breath, trying desperately to calm herself, Tempest screwed her eyes closed - granted, between the thumping music and blares of the crowd, attempting to relax wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, but she tried nonetheless. She couldn’t afford to lose her nerve, not when her time was almost up. While she’d stormed into battle, laid waste to cities, and done unspeakable things as the commander for the Storm King, nothing could have prepared her for that moment.
The year or so since she’d sided with the ponies and helped to defeat her ex-boss had been less than ideal for her - sure, the denizens of Equestria had accepted her with open forelegs, though that did little to quell her guilt over the ordeal. Reintegrating into society had been far, far harder than she had expected; not only did her reputation precede her at every turn, but she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Shattered horn aside, a lifetime of strict training had left her with a physique that rivalled most stallions. Tall, slender, and exceptionally well toned, her body was quite literally built for combat. Obvious differences aside, she had another, far less typical trait that made her feel like even more of an outcast; she was a dickmare.
Though the condition wasn’t unheard of, mares equipped with a stallionhood were an extremely rare sight - sure, she typically hid it while around others, but that didn’t make her feel like any less of an outsider. Casually interacting with ponies had never been easy, even before she’d abandoned her race, so attempting to get along and make friends after nearly toppling their society felt like a herculean task - still, despite her differences, some part of her still retained her marish needs. As arduous as her life had become, everything had eventually come to a head a month prior.
While attempting to buy groceries at a shop, she found herself being flirted with by a rather svelte young stallion. The attention was flattering, albeit wholly unexpected, and she quickly stuck up a conversation - that was, until things took a jarring turn. Much to her chagrin, the twinkish pony had mistaken her for a guy. The situation had been beyond embarrassing and was yet another blow to her floundering self-esteem.
With few other ponies to turn to, she’d vented to Twilight Sparkle after the unfortunate interaction. She didn’t want to look like a stallion, nor be treated as one, though she didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to remedy the situation. After listening to her rant for nearly an hour, the Princess offered an unconventional and rather brazen solution; why not show off her body to stallions who would appreciate her - all of her.
Though Tempest had initially balked at the concept, the Princess explained herself. There were several venues which supposedly allowed creatures of all shapes and sizes, including elusive dickmares like herself, to entertain a crowd. When the former villain had asked why she would ever put on such a debaucherous display, Twilight answered candidly that, allegedly, it wasn’t an uncommon way for mares of all sorts to bolster their self-esteem.
Parading around on stage and lewdly showing off their bodies to a throng of thirsty, boisterous onlookers may serve to improve her confidence. Truth be told, the more she thought about the idea, the more it made sense. Seeing and hearing a bunch of worked-up stallions lavishing her with praise and bits would ease her mind and make her feel more feminine. Apparently sensing her warm to the notion, the Princess had offered a bit of alchemical assistance.
Sorcerously teleporting herself a potion from Celestia-knows-where, Twilight had handed her a small phial of strange, turquoise liquid. Peering down at the suspect bottle, flipping it over in her hooves, Tempest’s unasked question was answered. The label, besides having a somewhat crass depiction of a mare’s bosoms, stated that it temporarily increased the drinker’s bust size.
Thanking the Princess for her time and concern, she made her leave and returned to her humble little apartment. No sooner had she gotten through the door, closing and locking it behind herself, did she down a portion of the potion. Though she remained composed while talking with Twilight, the unorthodox concept of stripping for a bunch of randy stallions had really gotten her worked up.
Sure enough, after a matter of minutes, her breasts had nearly doubled in size. Ballooning from almost unnoticeable teats, the mounds of flesh swelled to those of an expectant mother - sure, the rest of her was unaltered, but simply seeing her newfound cleavage was enough to bolster her morale. With little else to lose, she made up her mind right then and there; she was going to follow through with Twilight’s plan.
The following day, well after the elixir’s effects had subsided, she’d gone out to prepare. Visiting the club had been her first stop, signing up for a slot on their open stage night, but that was only the first item on her agenda. Once she’d reserved a spot for herself that friday evening, she went off to one of the local boutiques for a few accessories.
Having perilously few marish garments meant she’d need to bite the bullet and make an investment, especially since she’d be bearing her goods in a matter of days - as such, she purchased a garter belt, leggings, a thong, and even a decorative corset for her stallionhood. If she was going to show off for a crowd, she figured there was no half-assing the job. With her errands complete, she went home to prepare.
Her next two days had been downright grueling. She’d spent hours concocting and practicing a routine for the event, all while wearing her newly acquired and profoundly salacious garments. She’d even gone so far as to withdraw a few books from the Canterlot library on the subject of dancing and to set up a mirror to critique herself! Sadly, even with all of her hard work and preparation, she was left woefully unprepared when the time came.
“Mares and gentlecolts, let’s give a round of applause for Moon Dancer!” the announcer blared, shaking Tempest from her stupor. “Up next, we have yet another first timer! Give a warm, Canterlot welcome to the one, the only, Fizzlepop Berrytwist!!!”
Cocking one hind leg, Tempest gave herself one final inspection. As her eyes settled upon her abdomen and the two succulent bosoms stuffed within her undergarment, she gulped. “Ok, girls, it’s showtime…”
Steeling her resolve, telling herself it couldn’t be any worse than plunging into a pitched battle, she pressed past the curtain and onto the stage. Arranged somewhat like a catwalk, with a circular dais at its end, the platform cleaved the showroom of the establishment. Dozens of ponies, changelings, and even a few kirin lounged about the chamber, drinking and chatting with one another, while they awaited the next performance. As she came into view, every head turned towards her.
The feeling of having so many eyes on her was indescribable; as awe inspiring as it was terrifying, she couldn’t say she’d ever experienced anything quite like it - still, regardless of the cold knot in her stomach, she wasn’t about to back down. Holding her head high, she strutted down the aisle and to the central platform.
The room was deathly still and silent, while she stoically trotted along. Though she couldn’t say why everypony was so quiet, she suspected it was out of shock. She knew full well they recognized her from her past exploits, yet that didn’t stop her. Reaching her destination, she halted by the stripper pole on the dais, evoked her sorcerous might, and sent a shower of dazzling, multicolor sparks sailing through the air.
A few ponies shied away, with one or two running for the exit, although the overwhelming majority of the onlookers stood their ground. Impassively scanning the crowd, making sure each and every face was looking at her, a smug grin split her muzzle. It didn’t matter if she was commanding a legion or standing atop a platform - either way, she never failed to command the attention of everyone and everything around her.
Leisurely, as a lilting tune started to play, she traipsed around the chrome pole. She’d taken care not to reveal her loins, up until that moment, but that time had passed. Hooking one fetlock around the slim, metal pillar, she reared back, grabbed the cool shaft, and fully bared herself. Her sultry gaze and the unabashed view of her equipment caused the room to explode in an uproar of excited shouts and catcalls.
The song, like fevery part of her act, had been part of her carefully planned to compliment her display. Rotating around the pole, showing off every inch of her body to the spectators, she threw her head back. Now that she’d truly begun, her body moved of its own accord.
The near ceaseless drilling paid off magnificently - then again, she’d had no reason to doubt herself. Years of training and practice had imparted a mental and physical discipline that few others had, the only difference was the context for which she’d made ready. The sounds of combat were replaced by cheers - instead of explosions and war magic, strobe lights danced over her body - in place of crushing her foes, she wooed them with her body. It was deliciously intoxicating and it gradually began having an effect on her.
The exhilaration of hearing the excited cries, of peeking out and seeing so many eager faces, drowned out what little trepidation she had. Sliding down the pole, keeping her shoulder against it, her rump came to rest on the polished hardwood below. Grinning from ear to ear, she lifted and splayed her hind legs.
Bits rained from the heavens, showering her and the stage. The clatter of coins was a welcome sound, letting her know she’d recoup some of her investment from the outfit she’d purchased, but that wasn’t what won her over - no, that came from the thrill of it all. There she was, nearly naked, being lavished with praise from complete strangers. Scandalous setting or not, there was no denying that the audience enjoyed her body.
Steadily getting to her hooves, she reached back and popped the buttons of her garters. The brass fittings snapped free, one by one, until the delicate bands of fabric hung free. Taking care to give a sultry smirk to her viewers, she tugged at her panties. If the crowd liked her dressed, she couldn’t wait to hear their reaction when she actually started stripping.
The wild din of the club redoubled, as she slipped the panties down her thighs. It was a slow, sinful process - then again, it was supposed to be. Grasping the undergarment in both forehooves, she lowered her chest to the platform and hauled the article down her hind legs. Her bare rump came into view and her semi-flaccid stallionhood flopped free, while she cheekily glanced over her shoulder.
She thought the room had been loud before, but that didn’t hold a candle to the riotous uproar from the throng. Though she didn’t focus on anypony in particular, it wasn’t hard to notice that several of the onlookers had really gotten excited at the display. There were more than a few erections swaying or loudly slapping against bellies among the masses, which only sent her passions soaring.
Standing, she tauntingly shook her ass and continued her routine. All but naked, save for her leggings and the leather accoutrement around her equipment, her act took a rather raunchy turn. Gradually lifting one hind leg, giving everycreature a shameless look at her tool, she playfully giggled; the laughing wasn’t part of the act, but she couldn’t help herself.
It was funny; only a few minutes ago, she’d been terrified to get on stage and show herself. Not only had her fears been unwarranted, but she was actually getting turned on by all of the attention. She could tell without looking that she was getting hard, feeling her shaft swell and slip from its sheath. In the end, it really didn’t matter; she was going to finish her act and leave everyone begging for more.
On and on she went, provocatively sauntering about the pole while boldly dancing and weaving about to the beat. Though her performance was only designed to last for the length of the song, it felt like a small eternity. As the music reached its crescendo, with the finishing notes beginning to play, her finale was enacted. Gripping the beam and kicking off, she locked her ankles around the pillar and inverted herself. Hanging upside down was a bit precarious, and it took more strength than most could manage, but it gave the audience one heck of a conclusion.
The DJ’s outro was drown out entirely, as the thong chanted her name. The sensation was stimulating beyond reason, though her time was up - at least, so she thought. Cooly sashaying down the runway, towards the curtain, a stallion caught her eye. Trotting by the pegasus, locking eyes with him, she smiled.
Of those in the masses, his shouts were among the loudest and hadn’t failed to catch her ear. Bearing a light blue coat and plumage, with an indigo colored mane, it took her a second to recognize him. Though they’d never formally met, she vaguely recalled he was one of the esteemed team of fliers known as the wonderbolts. Irrespective of his rank, she appreciated his admiration.
“Wait,” he hollered, frantically waving a hoof, “do you do private shows?”
His question caused her to falter. The establishment did have a number of VIP rooms where entertainers could indulge clients in private, so the request wasn’t unwarranted. She’d already been given the greenlight to use the exclusive chambers, since there weren’t any of the regular dancers working that evening, so she seized the opportunity. Keeping her expression relatively docile, her heavily lidded eyes flicked to a doorway to the side.
Without saying a word, the stallion scampered away. She hadn’t planned on having any sort of one-on-one interactions that evening, but her exhibition had done wonders for her spirit. Leaving the hoard to enjoy the next act, she disappeared behind the heavy fabric towards her awaiting fan. With no other plans that evening, she saw no reason she couldn’t bask in his admiration for a time.
Impatiently, or perhaps fearing he’d misinterpreted her silent order, the stallion peeked his head into the back. The way he looked around for her, with his stallionhood drooping beneath him, it was too adorable. Spotting her, he enthusiastically strolled over and extended a hoof.
“H...Hi, I’m Soarin,” he stammered, clearly his voice cracking slightly.
Dipping her head, Tempest fought to maintain her composure. Though she didn’t show it, her excitement nearly matched his. It was the first time a stallion had ever been that keen on speaking with her, let alone in such a debaucherous setting, so it left her feeling a bit hot under her nonexistent collar. Dipping her head, she calmly acknowledged him.
“Fizzlepop,” she dispassionately murmured.
Even though she was almost universally known as Tempest Shadow, a lingering vestige of her past life, she’d been making a concerted effort to amend that. Besides serving as a reminder for her misdeeds, her old title had and still occasionally did intimidate strangers - as such, she’d used her given name for her performance. Whether or not her efforts would pay off, only time would tell - nevertheless, that was a problem for later.
“This way,” she intoned, strolling past him and into a short hallway.
The corridor housed six small chambers for VIPs or private performances, even if she was well aware that it wasn’t uncommon for them to be used for more dubious affairs. It was no mystery that clients used the chambers for intimate encounters with entertainers who were willing, though patrons rarely discussed it openly. The poorly kept secret tred a hazy legal ground, one which had seen the establishment questioned by the royal guards on a number of occasions, yet they’d managed to avoid any real trouble for ages.
As she moved into one of the vacant chambers, watching her client rush in after her, she closed and locked the door behind herself. The room was cramped, only housing a large, standing mirror and a loveseat, leaving little room to maneuver - then again, it wasn’t intended to have much space. Looking over to him, as he excitedly fidgeted by the tiny sofa, she couldn’t rightly say exactly what he was expecting of her. Showing off her body was one thing, but actually doing something with a stranger, while tempting, pushed her limits a bit too far.
“So,” she began, meeting his eyes, “what were you trying to -”
“Can I suck your cock?” he blurted, cutting her off.
Hearing his brazen and wholly inappropriate request, her eyes widened. She’d figured he was excited to be in a room with her, but she wouldn’t have guessed he’d want that. Contrary to popular belief, she actually preferred to be on the receiving end in the bedroom - still, it was a darn tempting offer. Getting paid to have somepony blow her? Yeah, that was too good to pass up.
Smirking at him, she cast her head to the side. “In that case, let me just have a seat.”
Grinning like an idiot, Soarin moved aside and away from the little couch. Rearing up, she climbed atop the loveseat, wheeled around, and sank to her haunches. As she swung her hind legs over the edge, allowing them to part slowly, her package came into view. Though she was very much a mare, having a meaty and succulent pussy, her endowment was anything but. Dwarfing most stallions, her equipment had always been on the larger side of things - speaking of equipment…
Her gaze wandered to her suitor’s groin, ultimately settling upon his dangling length. At a glance, he looked to be an average size, but she couldn’t be entirely sure. Even if he wasn’t packing monstrous heat, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate what he did have. Peering down at him, imagining how it would feel, blood surged to her tool.
“So I can just…” he trailed off, inching between her legs.
“Please,” she cooed, waving a hoof at her groin, “be my guest.”
No sooner did she finish speaking than the pegasus stepped forward and pressed his snout to her loins. Breathing deeply, his eyelids fluttered. Reclining, enjoying the show, she watched him relish her scent. Working his way upwards, away from her ripe balls, his teeth clamped down on the delicate silk ribbon holding her member’s corset. With a twist of his head, pulling the band of fabric, the leather accoutrement slipped free.
Licking his lips, hungrily eyeing her cock, Soarin leaned in, gave the tip of her shaft a small kiss, and wrapped his lips around her. The sensation of his tongue lapping at the sensitive underside of her shaft was the perfect accoutrement to the sight of him worshipping her. Tempest drew a deep breath, doing her best to remain silent, as he worked her into his muzzle.
It was clear he knew his way around a stallionhood, leaving her to wonder just how many dickmares he’d serviced before. Even with her large size, he managed the job with startling ease. With every bob of his head, a bit more of her length slipped into his maw; throughout it all, he’d occasionally peek up at her.
Though she had a heavy preference for bottoming, there was something undeniably charming about watching the stallion lavish her cock. It was rare enough to find someone willing to go that far with her and rarer still to have one ask to pleasure her. Humming contentedly to herself, her unshakable composure waned. Shifting one forehoof, she affectionately stroked his mane.
It wasn’t until her cock bumped against the back of his throat did his motions falter. Soarin winced and stifled a gag, swiftly withdrawing his head. She couldn’t blame him, given the monumental task he’d so enthusiastically committed himself to, though she did feel a bit bad. Even for those with a vast wealth of experience, her endowment would be a challenge.
“Sorry - Cough - sorry,” he croaked, pulling back and freeing his mouth. Strands of saliva and pre-cum hung between his lips and her engorged stallionhood, as he cleared his throat. To her shock, he seemed wholly undeterred by the small interruption. Pressing his cheek to her balls, lovingly fondling the twin orbs, he licked her inner thigh. “Sweet Celestia, you’re absolutely perfect.”
His adoration and flattery struck her like a gong, causing her cheeks to darken. Pursing her lips, she turned her head to the side and averted her gaze. She simply didn’t know how to respond to such an admission from somepony she’d just met, so she kept her mouth shut. As he started lapping and suckling at her nuts, she closed her eyes and focused on his ministrations.
She’d have to thank Twilight for the suggestion, even if she chose to omit certain obscene details about her evening. In a matter of minutes, she’d managed to whip a crowd into a lustful frenzy and bag a stallion who appreciated her for what she really was. It was an extraordinarily liberating feeling that rocked her to the core.
Lower and lower Soarin moved, lovingly kissing and licking his way down her nuts, until he reached her sex. She started, feeling his tongue tease her clit. While he’d only asked to give her a blowjob, she was well within her rights to put a swift end to his impetuous actions - still, she stayed her hoof. Shifting forward slightly, dangling her tush off the edge of the cushion, she lifted and rested one hind leg on his shoulder.
If he was so eager to please her, she found it hard to ask him to stop. It wasn’t like she would ask him to continue - at least, not yet - though it was quickly reaching that point. Biting her lip, with his tongue grinding into her velvety depths, she stifled a whimper. Getting sucked off by a stallion had been a pleasant surprise, but could have never foreseen being eaten out by one as well.
With the small amount of carnal experience she had, she could safely say that nopony had ever given her such treatment before. On the perilously few occasions when she was lucky enough to get some action, the stallion had always mounted her and rutted her like she was any other mare - it was enjoyable enough, but it lacked any real passion. Soarin was another case entirely.
The way he groaned into her, sloppily making out with her rear, stirred something within her. His tongue felt heavenly, as it writhed around in her snatch. Her pulse quickened, pre-cum dripped from her throbbing stallionhood, and the breath hitched in her throat. Slowly but surely, the tables began to turn. She was no longer letting him please her, she wanted him to.
She couldn’t rightly say how long he stayed down there, slicking her sex and basking in her musk, but Soarin eventually withdrew. As he stepped back, the leg on his shoulder reflexively flexed and halted his retreat. On some subconscious level, her body demanded he continue; sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
Standing to his full height, Soarin reached forward with a wing and wiped his muzzle. “N...not to gush or anything, but I would kill to have a marefriend like you. You wouldn’t happen to have any single dickmare friends, w...would you?” he awkwardly chuckled, smiling bashfully over at her.
Tempest’s heart skipped a beat and her lips parted, yet not a sound escaped her. Marefriend? Did he honestly consider her marefriend material, after everything she’d done? His question quite literally left her at a loss for words and gave her a moment for pause. Though he was more than likely being motivated by lust, the siren’s call of being with a stallion who embraced who and what she was was too much to bear.
Be darned if she could put her hoof on exactly what it was, but something about him just appealed to her. Perhaps it was his sheepish and amateurish nature, contrasted against his audacious request to please her, or maybe it was his boldness in approaching her in the first place - either way, the hooks were in and there was no backing away. Looking into his eyes, the corners of her lips turned up.
“No,” she whispered, swallowing hard, “but maybe I could be your marefriend tonight.”
Only a complete imbecile would fail to grasp the implications of her statement. She’d been pushed past her limit, stimulated in ways that left her weak in the knees, and so she caved. Even if he wasn’t truly dating material, the prospect of finding a special somepony did her in. The worst part was that she knew she’d been compromised, with her sexual desires blazing brightly, but she didn’t care. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, she wanted to feel wanted.
Soarin’s smile broadened, as he stepped between her hind legs. Rearing back, pressing his forehooves to either side of her head, he got into position. Tempest reciprocated, lifting her lower limbs and wrapping them around his waist. Staring at his handsome face, feeling the head of his stallionhood press to her snatch, she gnawed her lip.
“I’ll be gentle,” he softly muttered, shuffling forward and gently driving his hips forward.
She winced, as the tip of his shaft ground against her entrance. The relatively sparse amount of lube didn’t make things easy, nor the fact that she hadn’t been plowed in ages, but his efforts eventually paid off. With an inaudible Pop, the battering ram-like head of his spear sank into her. Instinctively pressing a hoof to his chest, hoping he wasn’t in too much of a hurry, she halted his progress.
True to his word, he was remarkably accommodating. With only an inch or so of his stallionhood within her, paused and gave her a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Though he wasn’t as well endowed as she was, it felt absolutely titanic. Steadying her breathing, she fought to calm herself. Bit by bit, breath by breath, her tense ring relaxed.
“Like I said,” Soarin purred, bringing one wing towards her groin, “nice and gentle.”
As his plumage tenderly wrapped around her cock, softly stroking her length, she gasped. Without having asked for any additional attention, he’d taken the initiative and gone the extra mile. Peeking out, seeing the smug, somewhat clumsy grin plastered on his face, she nearly swooned. Be darned if she knew a thing about him, outside of him being an aerial acrobat, but he was one heck of a gentlecolt.
Reaching up, she placed her forehooves on his shoulders, looked him in the eye, and nodded. Her mute gesture didn’t go unnoticed, signalling to begin. Delicately, almost reluctantly, he started thrusting. The wing job definitely helped with the endeavor, sending ripples of pleasure through her, though that wasn’t what had her focus. As his length rubbed against her delicate g-spot, a hushed groan slipped past her lips.
The pinions on her tool felt nice, but having her g-spot ground against felt absolutely amazing. Peering down her chest, watching her stallionhood drool over her belly and alchemically enhanced bosoms, she shivered. She wasn’t sure if every dickmare was as sensitive as herself, since she’d never really asked another of her kind about it, but the sensation of being railed was indescribable.
Seated as she was, there wasn’t all that much she could do to reciprocate his bucking - that being said, she wasn’t without having a few tricks. Pacing his rhythm, she steadily clenched and relaxed her ass in tune with his thrusts. Her soft whimpers and heavy breaths were another, albeit smaller contribution to the amorous affair.
Seconds ticked by into minutes, before Soarin had all but hilted himself, but their act had only just begun. Pulling back, he hauled nearly half of his length free and commenced to deep-dicking her. As his girthy medial ring pummeled her g-spot, waves of bliss shot washed over her. It was nearly perfect - nearly.
Though she deeply appreciated his courteous and polite treatment thus far, the growing urge to be properly rutted seized her. Even if he wasn’t the largest or sturdily built stallion, she had no doubt that he was holding back. Flexing her legs, she pulled him to herself - still, he seemed almost hesitant to give it to her rough. With her efforts to inspire him having failed, she resigned herself to a more direct approach.
Extending her forelegs, she grasped his wings and drew him in. His motions faltered, suddenly finding himself muzzle to muzzle with her, and his eyes widened in surprise. As his chest and belly pressed against her, sandwiching her stallionhood between them, she craned her neck and brought her snout to his ear.
“Rut me, you stud…”
The demand had an immediate and profound effect. Like opening the throttle on a steam engine, his hips moved harder and faster with every passing second. Gone was the steady, methodical love-making he’d been giving her, replaced by the heated, almost feral passion of a wild animal. Her legs closed around him, holding him tightly, as he unleashed his full carnal fury upon her.
Her heart thundered in her chest, her eyes rolled back, and she could feel herself starting to flare. Despite the lack of stimulation to her cock, she knew she wasn’t going to last long. An imposing mare of ill repute she may have been, but she was still a mare. Some primal part of her, buried deep down, pined for moments like these.
She had a number of sex toys, dildos and the like, but nothing compared to the real thing. To feel somepony’s warmth, to actually be with another living soul, was something that masturbation could never compare to. She honestly couldn’t say she’d ever tire of it, especially since it had been so long since she’d felt the touch of another, so she made sure to enjoy every second of it.
Having a stallion’s weight on her, hearing their deep, masculine grunts and breathe their scent, feel his length pistoning into her; truly, there was nothing in the world quite like it. Soarin may not have been the biggest or strongest pony she’d ever met, but he was exactly what she needed at that moment. Sensing him losing his rhythm, realizing he was reaching his limit, she gave voice to her desires.
“D...don’t stop…”
Her plea sent him into a frenzy, seemingly inspiring him to give it his all. His pendulous balls slapped against her rump and dock, mingling with the sound of their grunts and moans, though neither took note. They’d passed a threshold and there was no going back, though whom would cum first was a mystery. Racing to the finish line, they desperately sought their release.
Every muscle about the stallion tensed, he fiercely hilted his entirety within her, and he rested his head against her shoulder. His motions came to a shuddering halt, as he loudly huffed and snorted above her. It was an extraordinarily hot experience, but it was merely the opener of his finale. Throbbing wildly, locked in her depths, his stallionhood erupted within her.
Teetering on the brink, the scalding influx of foal-batter was Tempest’s undoing. Howling out and sinking her hooves into his back, she met her devastating end. Sparks and dazzling embers sputtered from her shattered horn, while her marehood fitfully spasmed around his pulsating shaft. Her stallionhood gushed spunk over her chests, sinking into their fur and marking them with her essence.
She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a climax so intense, quite literally leaving her speechless. The experience was awe inspiring, leaving her in a blissful, euphoric haze of unfettered joy. Some part of her was keenly aware of what she’d done, knowing she’d made a grand mess and may well regret her spontaneous decision in the morning, yet those were problems for later - for the time being, she simply wanted to savor the moment and relish the heat his seed afforded.
“H...holy cow,” Soarin half-wheezed, half-laughed, as he retracted his head. “That was -”
“Sssssssssh,” she hissed, pressing a hoof to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.”
They both needed a shower, they’d likely made a mess on the sofa, and she wouldn’t be shocked to learn she’d unintentionally damaged her outfit - still, the sublime ecstasy and validation of being wanted was more than she could have asked for. Though she wasn’t sure if she’d be audacious enough to put on another burlesque show anytime soon, or make a habit of spontaneously bedding stallions she’d just met, she had every intention of getting Soarin’s contact information - after all, they had done a magnificent job at scratching each other’s itch...
