Stuck

The ticking of a clock bounced off the kitchen walls, faintly giving life to the silent mansion. Gentle Breeze preferred to be surrounded by company during the Winter, yet here she was, yawning as she watched the fire of the oven cooking her pastries in her desolate house. As serene as it was to have the entire kitchen for herself, it wasn’t the same without Sweet Potato clattering the cookware, or Golden Delicacy nagging the former for overcooking a dish; though it was at Gentle’s suggestion that they took their Sunday off. Other ponies have their own families, too.

A sudden blaring alarm jolted Gentle up from her comfortable nap, just when she was cozying up to the oven’s warmth. Maybe she should take the sleep medication tonight, it was starting to get embarrassing showing up to her picnics with dark circles under her eyes. Makeup would draw more attention from her friends than just leaving them be, with how much they pester her to try a new brand product every week.

Gentle softly glided around the kitchen top, barely avoiding touching the floor, turned off the clock and opened the oven. The heat that escaped from inside was sweat inducing, but not wholly unwelcome, considering the temperature outside. Her lips slowly formed a mellow smile as she took out two pies from inside. Her friends better not argue over who’s having the last slice this time, else she’ll eat it to end their bickering.

Her basket was almost ready. Gentle carefully put one of the pies in it, next to the sweet bread and the cottage cheese - the evening was going to be splendid. The second pie was sat atop Hasty’s side of the table in the dining room, then covered with a piece of cloth.

As much as she wanted to stay and attempt to make conversation with her daughter, the pastry in her basket would grow cold long before she arrived at her friends. Hopefully Hasty will attend dinner without having her father knocking at her room. Maybe she’ll eat her food properly this time. She’ll probably grab half a plate and drag it back to her room.

Gentle quietly added a bottle of wine to her basket. Her friends won’t mind.

Lifting off of the ground, Gentle picked a chilly gust of wind to carry her through her mansion. It went to and fro, from the movie gallery, to the study, into and out of the billiard bar, and then across the main hallway. Gentle cleaned whatever specks of dust she came across in her trek, so that the mansion looked a bit more hospitable while the maids were away. Her husband might think otherwise, but everypony should rest on Sundays.

From across the hall, Gentle spied the door to Hasty’s bedroom closed off. The tempting smell of Gentle’s pies never failed to pry Hasty away from her room, until her hermit phase kicked in and threw everything to the wind.

Gentle circumventing out of the breeze’s flow to her daughter’s room, cringing once she heard the loud speakers coming from inside. Once there, she firmly knocked and waited, expecting to have to knock a few more times until Hasty had heard her.

“You can come in, mom.”

Gentle made her way inside. All of the furniture - the poorly organized wardrobe, the standing mirror, a widescreen CRT television she was gifted during last year’s birthday, her study desk, among others - was tucked alongside the walls, while a bright pink carpet monopolized the living-room sized center, peppered with pillows and blankets. Gentle would’ve died for a room this big when she was Hasty’s age, but after many terrified complaints, Gentle’s husband eventually relocated her somewhere even bigger. Anything to make her stop crying at night over how the walls were closing in on her.

Hasty lay amidst her multitude of plushies in her bed, which had been used exclusively as a display for her stuffed toys ever since she moved there. Gentle persisted against it, but Hasty simply wouldn’t sleep anywhere but in the middle of the room.

To Gentle’s delight and surprise, one of Hasty’s friends was in there with her. Jittery as always, Page Flipper covered himself with a blanket, sitting as far away as possible from the booming television.

That he had been the one admitted to the hospital alongside Hasty that one night is… troublesome. Beggars can’t be choosers, however; anything pushed her daughter out of her shell was a small blessing in Gentle’s eyes.

“Oh, hello there,” Gentle blinked, taken aback.

“Hi mom,” Hasty said, lowering the volume of her television.

“Good evening, Mrs. Breeze.” Page uncovered a hoof from under his blanket and waved at her.

“Good afternoon, Page,” Gentle said, returning his gesture. “For how long have you been here? I swear I didn’t hear the bell ring.”

“He didn’t ring it. I saw him walking down the street around an hour ago, so I flew him over.” Hasty said absentmindedly as she watched a movie, pointing to the window above her.

Hasty’s room had the privilege of having a view that encompassed the entire front of the family’s sprawling estate, including Gentle’s sprawling snow-covered garden, which was, humbleness aside, food for the eyes during better seasons, and the yet-to-be shoveled sidewalks in the distance. Gentle spied a foggy pair of binoculars and a damp scarf hung in the coat hanger by the television that thankfully weren’t dripping onto the carpet.

While it was great to see her daughter socializing more often as of late, Hasty's rebellious streak was concerning. Where could she have picked that up from.

“Hasty, dear, I’d be glad if you remembered that I asked you to stop carrying ponies over our gates.” Gentle said, clasping her feathers together on her back.

“I don’t see a problem with that, mom. I’m a pegasus,” Hasty said, flexing her wings whilst keeping her eyes glued to the tv. “It’s faster to go over things than trotting all around.”

“And to use the front doors, too.” Gentle added.

“Moooom… It’s whatever, I’m not gonna drop him from a two story height.”

“It isn’t about that, Hasty, but you raised a good point against yourself right there. It’s impolite and unsafe to carry somepony over the gate and through your window; guests should be welcomed at the front entrance. Plus, I am a pegasus too, yet I use our doors just like everypony else.”

“So what? I’ve known Page for years, I don’t need to be so formal with him every time.”

“Hasty-”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Breeze,” Page interrupted, rearing up a shaky hoof. “I should’ve rung the bell to begin with. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I’d rather if you did that next time, Page,” Gentle said, nodding at the colt. “As I was about to say that, as one of the owners of this household, I’d like to know who comes and goes, Hasty.” Gentle swapped her attention away from the colt and to Hasty. She’d have to admit that Page’s scapegoating ruses could have been cute, if they weren’t, however, defending her daughter’s bad behavior. “I don’t mind you bringing your friends over, dear, so there’s no need for you to snuck them in behind my back.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide him from you, mom,” Hasty said with a flick of her tail and a roll of her eyes. “I smelled you working in the kitchen, I didn’t want to distract you.”

Gentle’s concerned frown slowly dissipated after breathing a sigh. If Hasty ever gets into the habit of sneaking colts into her house, Gentle will have to hammer into her sister that her bad habits can influence impressionable fillies. That Page was the only friend which Hasty kept in contact with was coincidence, fortunately, and not a sign of her inheriting her aunt's debauchery.

Gentle flew to the plushie-riddled bed, extended her wings and gently rubbed Hasty’s back with them, in the same way Hasty loved ever since she was but a newborn.

“I know you didn’t, dear. However, just because you didn’t mean to doesn’t mean that you didn’t. Next time, tell me that you’re calling any of your friends-”

“Friend-” Hasty uttered before a feather touched her lips, shushing her before she could derail the conversation.

“Any of your friends that you might have, so I can prepare some desserts for them. Please be honest with me from now on, otherwise I’ll worry that you’ll end up like Auntie Stormy.”

“Never!”

A small weight was lifted from Gentle’s heart; not enough for her to soar, but every bit helped. As she nuzzled Hasty, Gentle spied the nervous colt’s forehead in the corner of her eye and swallowed a lump. While his bruises have come and gone with time, that ugly scar on his forehead seemed to grow only to torment her. Maybe someday she’ll get over the evil her daughter has done. Nopony was perfect. Nopony.

“Have you asked your parents permission to come here, Page?” Gentle said.

“Yes!” He said, “I told them that I’d pass by after dropping off a book at the library.”

Shifting hind hoof, quick and eager response. Gentle so desperately wanted to call him out on his lie, but things were for better for her this way. Those endless string of calls that came after both foals recovered from their, thankfully brief, hospital stay two years ago still made her hoofs tremble. She'd be lost without her husband at times like those.

“If you told them so, then I guess it’s fine,” Gentle said, gliding away from her daughter’s embrace and towards the exit, bypassing the mess of pillows over the carpet. “I’m going to a picnic with my friends. Hasty, I left a pie for you at the counter. But be careful, it’s piping hot," Gentle raised a single feather and opened the door. "If any problem comes up, call the residence of Mrs Worth, alright? I’ll be there.”

Gentle looked intently at the duo, made her way out of the room and then sighed. If she could take care of her own house when she was twelve, Hasty could, too. Maybe she’ll find it in her heart to forgive her other friends, and invite them over next time.

A mountain of anxiousness slid off of Page’s back once the concerned-looking mare left the room. For now he could drop the suffocating façade and breathe in. Mrs. Gentle’s soft demeanor increased the size of his guilt whenever he had to lie to her face, but the important part is that he won’t be getting a beating from his father for disobeying him.

Page barely had a second to gather himself when something hit him in the back of the head, almost flipping him over. Scratching the offended area, Page looked to the side to find Hasty by his side, her feathers bundled together into a lightweight club.

“Don’t cut off mum,” Hasty said, sharing again his cozy supersized blanket and increasing the volume of her television back to uncomfortable heights. “It’s rude.”

“Sorry,” he said.

Hoping to not instigate her ire, Page went back to the movie and attempted no further comment.

Not that he expected her to beat him again, or not anymore, at least. She oh so promised to him that she wouldn’t repeat that incident ever again when they met again, after a month of her complete social absence, in the school’s playground. Also, by meeting once more, he meant ambushing him while he was all alone and distracted with a book. It may have taken him a few days before he calmed down and actually listened to her repeated attempts, though it could have been because he could tell she was nearing her limit.

At the very least she played her part, aside from the offhanded slap or bump. Or tumble. No more rocks. She could be rougher than the buckball jocks his brother hung out with, which could be strange coming from a filly, if it weren’t terrifying because of who’s he’s thinking about.

Why did he forgive her, again? Oh right, the fear. Well, that’s mostly past.

Harsh flashing images of adult-only nature filled Hasty’s sleek wide-screen CRT - not that he was jealous, not one bit. A leather-jacket wearing unicorn dispatched a gang of diamond-dogs with his crossbow in the labyrinthic back alleys of a grimmy metropolis. It was days like today where Page cursed fate for letting Hasty discover where her father stashed the keys to his mini-cinema - the stallion absolutely loved the big screen but loathed sharing a room with a crowd louder than him.

The impossible stunts the actors did and the carriage scenes were awesome, yes, but the sight of the gratuitous violence churned his stomach and ached his old bruises. He would've been completely fine without knowing that a cow’s intestines were exactly six and a half meters long.

“Isn’t that a bit… much?” he said.

“What? You said that you could handle it.”

Another fully loaded cow entered the scene, and while she escaped the torture of having her entrails swung around like a vine, she still ended up getting her coat died in red. “I wasn’t expecting this much gore… Not even dad’s medical books have this much visceras in it,” Page said.

Hasty’s hoof rubbed Page’s own, jolting him away from the over-the-top scene that taught him many different shades of red. “Pussy,” she said.

“You know that I can’t handle blood very well.”

“Pussy,” Hasty said.

“Couldn’t have you picked something different? This will make me sick.”

“I want to see this one.”

“Your mom’s pie better not be cherry.”

Page moved his face away from the screen, if only to spare him from the carnage. Hasty’s oddly relaxing hoof distracted him from thinking about the loud gruesome sounds, but not by much.
He needed to talk about something - anything, else the color on his face will resemble the hospital floor’s in that shot.

“Hey, Hasty,” Page raised his voice, startling the filly. “Why won’t you talk to the guys anymore?”

“Are they still bullying you to ask that?” Hasty raised her eyebrows, practically a carbon copy of her mother from just a few minutes ago.

“No, no.”

“But are they, really?” Hasty adopted a fierce expression that summed up how she felt about them.

“No, Hasty, no. I was just wondering-”

“Then I don’t want to hear about them.”

“Well, when are you going to tell me what happened that day? At least I’ll know why you’re so angry with them. Besides the obvious, that is.”

The twist of Hasty’s frown soured, her head moved to the side and her ears pinned backwards. The more-or-so gentle hoof that rubbed him stopped and chastised him with a light kick.

“Give me some more time,” she said.

“More time?” he said.

“More time.” she said.

With newfound curiosity, he probed further:

“Then why don’t you hate me, too?”

“You were an asshole,” Another kick, harder this time. “But you bothered to come back.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Hm.” Hasty brought her attention back to the movie, and gave the colt a silence that dragged. “Thanks for hanging out with me, still,” she said, massaging his hind leg again. “Even though I scared the crap out of you.”

He had nothing to say to that.

Fortunately the scene with the bad guys was over. Instead of committing arson and homicide, the stallion is meeting his love interest: a slim unicorn actress wearing some loose fabric which the movie tries to pass up as a dress, even though it only covered the bare minimum.

The camera angles creeped onto the mare’s sweaty dock like in the pornos he and his friends hastily swapped around behind the bleachers as if it were some kind of contraband. Which it kind of was on school grounds. Still, the acting in this movie seemed to be a bit more competent, in comparison.

A softer tinge of red spread across Page’s face. It’s one thing to watch tapes on his conveniently positioned modest tv behind the door, with the volume brought down to mute, in the privacy of his room, it’s another to watch softcore porn with a friend - a filly friend - in her girly, perfumed room, under the same blanket as her, on the biggest screen he’d seen sans the cinema’s, and at a deafening volume.

Stone faced as always, the main actor knocked out a group of ninjas that jumped in through the windows. Among the broken glasses and corpses, the actress cried out his name and loudly smacked lips with him while the camera ogled their tongues and muzzles embracing.

“I wonder how much they ask to get paid for a kiss like that. Have you kissed somepony yet, Page?”

“Yeah, I have,” he said, locking on to the steamy scene and away from Hasty’s diggin gaze.

Hasty’s touch was gentle. Warm. It spread from his legs through his body. “With your tongue,” she said.

“I- No.”

“Hmmm. Me neither,” she said.

It wasn’t anything unusual, or at least it shouldn't have been. No, it definitely wasn’t.

He’d shared tents with Hasty and many other fillies, back when his father forced him to go to the scouts. They also used to tussle and tumble, back when he still had wits to fight back.

Back before he started to enjoy those kisses on the cheeks, which he used to take for granted. Back before he started to notice how their backsides swayed as they trotted.

“They let her teats slip on that shot,” Hasty said.

“That… that they did,” Page said.

“Why did they bother putting that gown on her, it’s hugging her pussy like a wetsuit.”

“Pu- What’s a wetsuit?”

“We saw a movie with them two days ago, idiot.”
On screen, the lovers bumped their way to a wide bed - covered in pink covers and pillows. The warmth must have gotten to Page’s head, the ones in the room were similar to the ones that the couple had kicked to the ground. Just a coincidence.

It’s just a coincidence, no need for his tip to rub against the carpet.

“Can’t you skip this scene?” Page asked, choking on his spit.

“No. Why? Haven’t you ever seen porn before?”

“I have, but- It’s loud, ponies outside might hear this.”

“We’re yards away from the streets. Mum’s out. Daddy’s at work.”

Summer must have arrived before Spring. No way it's this hot out during Winter.

Should he push forward? Is it ok to?

Hasty lowered the sounds of bed squeaking. Her whisper sounded louder in his ears.

“Which ones do you like?” she said.

“Whi-which what?”

“Do you like to watch mares rubbing themselves? Or to see them licking a stallion?”

Page’s throat locked up. His friends had to resort to coercion for him to fess up which tapes were his favorites, and that was done in friendly banter. Flirting wasn’t his field of expertise.

“I like when stallions cum on their flanks,” she said, “But I don’t mind if he shoots inside, either.”

Hasty stopped caressing Page’s hoof, the hairs of her tail gently brushed his thighs. She feigned being relaxed, but Page felt being stared down like a cat does to a rat.

He should, he definitely should.

“I… I kind of like when the mare sucks,” he said to Hasty’s rapt attention. “Or when she rubs him on her tuft.”

“Weirdo.”

Her soft chuckle rubbed his ears like sandpaper. While Page gripped strands of the carpet out of embarrassment, Hasty rewinded the sex scene back to the start.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you,” Hasty caressed his back with a wing, trying to make up for her chuckle. “I’ve never seen that before. Is it good?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Are you hard?”

Page swallowed a ball of spit. Hasty dug her feathers onto him and scooted closer still, until she rubbed against his shaking body. It was even smoother than her hoof.

“I’d like it if you were,” she said.

Her flank was silky and hot. So was her shallow, tickling breath. Page looked at her hungry eyes and nodded.

A bouquet of feathers enveloped him, reaching around and pushing them together, tickling his belly in search of his bits.

Hasty’s nose poked his muzzle, their breaths merged. Her mouth remained open, idling in front of his, taunting him, while her wings felt him up. Page’s eagerness drove him to smack his lips onto hers; although he hadn’t a clue of what to do next, the sweet feeling made Page lose himself in her.

Her gaze ate him up, even when she let him go to catch air. Her iron lungs won a bronze medal in a swimming contest in her new school, and Page, well, wasn’t fond of getting wet, so he was the first to give in.

His brief rest was cut short, Hasty forced her mouth onto his again. Her tongue forced its way inside, tussling and rapping around with his own. She tasted like spit. It wasn’t that bad. Maybe he found it delicious. Perhaps he wanted more.

Page had to distract Hasty’s impatient lips to catch his breath, lifting his barrel so that she could explore his body more easily. Light appendages tickled his member, clumsily and hastily identifying his shape and size.

Her touch felt alien; new. Page wanted to discover more. He bit her ear, listened to her curte moan, pushed her onto her back, got atop of her and realized how beautiful she was. Page’s lips were an inch away from her pouty face when something clasped his hips from behind and spun the world around in front of him.

A plump weight grinded on his crotch, two soft paddings zigzagged two stiff nubs around his belly. Page desperately wanted to see them, but Hasty’s mouth would not allow him.

Both ponies breathed each other’s hot air. Page pushed against her chest, begging for a moment to recover his tired lungs, but her starving eyes told him she wasn’t done. Hasty pinned his head to the ground, nostrils flaring, moaning inside of him, rubbing his cock and pressing against his hips.

Page’s chest screamed in agony. His mind was spiraling into a panic, she has got to be trying to kill him again. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, Hasty let go of his face and collapsed on him, huffing like somepony who just surfaced from a deep dive - not that he fared any better.

Heaving desperately, Page swimmed in the sweet scent of her mane. His cock burned and throbbed, sandwiched in between their bodies, screaming for something more.

“Have you ever seen a filly rub herself?” Hasty said between gasps.

“No,” Page coughed. “But I want to.”

Slowly inching away from him, Hasty’s wings draped the cover around her like a curtain and straddled his crotch, kissing his cock, too.

“Watch me,” she said.

Shadows faintly obscured her silhouette while the light coming from the vast windows traced her body.

Her velvet folds were slicker than what he thought they’d be from the few times he caught them in a glimpse. Her teats were diminutive, if compared to the mares he’d fantasized of before regrettably waking up, but they were just as sexy.

Page devoted his eyes to her body, and, much like Hasty, was infatuated by her rocking hips squishing his erection. Her chest swaying tuft was a close second favorite of his.

Balancing herself with her wings, Hasty bounced on his lap, plastering Page with sticky kisses. The more she mashed her pussy on him, the more his hips humped against her, begging to slip inside of her

“Hasty,” he said between gasps, “I want to go inside, please!”

“Ok,” Hasty stopped jumping, almost out of air. “Hang on.”

Hasty brought down her - magnifically fluffy - chest on his, pinning Page in place. As he ogled her fur, Hasty awkwardly grasped his cock, dragging it under her tail and aiming it at her damp entrance.

Infuriatingly, Page’s engorged head slipped past her pussy repeatedly, rubbing against her dock and the back of her flank. Despite the heat, it made him shiver - She was so close.

“Come on, come on…” Hasty snorted with every error. “Go in, you fuck. I want you to…”

After many seconds humping around his cock, Hasty found her mark.

She gripped, scalded and embraced him, bucking his hip was the only thing Page could do. Much as Page desperately wanted to continue, Hasty’s heavy posterior pressed him against the ground. Her frazzling body hugged him with all her might, taking in long, deep breaths and anchoring her eyes on his, as if he could disappear at any moment.
“Give me a minute. Please,” she said.

Much like her body, Hasty’s voice was frail and shaky. Page would kiss her, but maybe this wasn’t the best thing to do. Should he? Hasty’s breath hitched when he touched her cheek, then calmed.

Uncharacteristically of her, Hasty gently lowered her muzzle upon his and planted a kiss. “I’m ok. I’m ok,” she said. “Let’s keep going.”

Hasty softly, softly raised her rump, nearly removing Page from herself, then just as slowly sat back down. She was snug; tight but slippery. Page’s and Hasty’s groans filled the entire room, the covers bounced in the air alongside the rhythm of Hasty’s hips.

“Do you like this?” Hasty caressed his mizzle.

“Yes!” Page said, “Yes, this is incredible.”

“Ah-m I a slut?”

“No! You’re- I like you. You’re- aaah! - You’re good!”

Her ass rose up to his medial ring before slamming down on his hips. The muffled clap of her fat flanks was as maddening to hear as her moans; while Hasty’s weight was making his lap sore, he could endure a little bit of pain.

Page’s eyes were attracted to Hasty’s body, be it her honeyed lips, the soft patch of fuzz on her chest, or her curvy body jumping up and down on his cock. He never gazed for too long, however, Hasty repeatedly stole his attention away with kisses.

Hasty hastened herself, smacking harder against the wincing Page’s cock. He felt a wall of flesh right at his tip, he grew, he was getting wider - it’s gonna flare.

“Hasty!- Hasty, I’m-I’m gonna cum!” Page said between moans.

If Hasty had heard him, then she had paid him no attention. Even while his flare expanded deep inside of her, she didn’t stop. Even while he shot his load in her womb, she didn’t stop. Page opened his eyes and found Hasty still looking at them, bouncing her ass on him faster and faster. He came so much, more than he had ever before - and she continued to milk him.

Eventually Page’s shrunken cock slipped out from between her lips, halting the filly to a stop.

“You done?” she said.

“Ye-Yeah,” he said, short of breath.

“Can’t you go again?”

“Gi- give me a minute. Or two! Or two.”

“Hang on a second.”

Hasty lifted the cover off of them and laid down next to him. She spread her hind legs wide open, presenting her soaked nethers, which leaked with his cum.

“Come and lick me,” she said, with the sweetest voice he’d heard.

“Huh?”

“I’m close, come and lick me.”

After some effort lifting himself off of the ground, Page reached Hasty and peered at her glazed pussy.

“Lick?” he said.

“Hurry, I’m close!” Hasty quickly rubbed her clit as if it were on fire. “Lick here. Just here’s fine.”

He didn’t want to. He was going to, but he wasn’t particularly looking forward to getting his face near his own seed. Anything to please her.

Inching his way close to her gorgeous lips, Page stuck out his tongue. He ignored his disgust and licked the button she had appointed him her button, whilst internally discussing whether or not he should be enjoying her taste since there was quite a bit of himself left in her.

Page immediately came to stop once he started his job, since Hasty’s hindlegs jolted in place, startling him. To his relief, she missed him entirely and kept kicking the empty space behind him. Goodness knows that he only needed the one gash on his forehead.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m ok, sorry. Keep going,” she said.

Concerned but not completely discouraged, Page resumed his service. The strong mix of his spunk with her pleasant aroma wasn’t so bad to the nose. But the taste - the bittersweet taste, it almost made him retch. If not for Hasty’s sweetness, he could have had.

Page wasn’t sure if he was doing it correctly - he’d never seen or read about this before, but Hasty’s moans encouraged him. Her rigid clitoris was bathed and prodded, Page decided to make up with his ignorance with experimentation.

While Page worked his lips down on hers, Hasty’s hindlegs wrapped around him, squeezing his head. Page panicked and glanced up at Hasty - her eyes were fiercely shut, her mouth uttered the same “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” again and again. Page ignored his disgust and flicked her button with his tongue, wishing that the gulping down his spunk was worth the effort.

Hasty’s legs trembled rigidly not long after, soon enough a stream of sticky liquid coated his neck and chest with a thick coat of Hasty’s scent. Page didn’t mind it.

Page continously licked her until she loosened enough of her grip that he could move his neck around. As he looked down, he was surprised by the amount of cum that Hasty shot at him; the mares in those videotapes never gushed out that much. It tasted sweet.

“Page, hah,” Hasty said between ragged breaths. “Page… Page, help me up.”

Brushing off the sticky fluid with the cover, Page carefully lifted the flushed filly. Hasty held onto his back with her wings and glued their lips together, fishing for any lingering taste. After having her fill, she parted their mouths and nuzzled his muzzle.

“Are you hard again?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Bed,” Hasty’s tail caressed his face as she passed by him. “Do me in bed. More comfortable.”

Like a dog, Page obediently followed Hasty, his gaze fixated on the sway of her damp rump. She struggled to get her backside up in the bed, probably too tired after the heavy lifting she did on his crotch. Page probably should help her, but the jiggle of her gifted backside had hypnotized him.

He wanted in, he wanted in her now.

As quickly as he could, Page mounted Hasty and shuffled to close the gap between their nethers - and the instant he did, a swift kick to shin sent him tumbling.

“No! No, no, no!” Hasty’s face was snow white, her chest heaved up and down like a racecar. “Not- Not from behind! Not- No!”

While he had quite a scare, Page brushed it off in a hurry once he heard Hasty’s cry. His hoof stung quite a bit, but he has had worse before. Hasty’s chest couldn’t keep steady, her eyes darted everywhere until they landed on him, and as soon as she did, she lunged at him and held him tightly, wings and all.

“Hasty? Hasty, what’s wrong?” Page nuzzled her neck, trying to grasp her worry. She flinched, then shuddered. “Are you ok? Was it something that I did? Sorry-”

“Hmhm, no, just- Not- Not from behind, I-” Hasty hiccuped. “Don’t come from- from behind. I don’t- I don’t like it from behind.”

Hasty’s anxiety put a coal on Page’s stomach. He’d never seen Hasty this mortified before, not even on that day in the park. Page slowly and steadily embraced her back, trying to figure out what could be wrong with her.
Doubting whether or not he was doing her any good racked his brain. Hasty’s body kept shaking still, if he tried letting go she’d grab him back. There weren’t enough tears for him to grab his handkerchief, either; not that Hasty would let him.

He held her, clueless as to what to do. Eventually, Hasty calmed down her panic and softed her grasp on him.

“Help me up the bed,” Hasty said, letting go of Page’s hooves and getting on to her own. “You’re- you’re gonna stick it up in me. Just - no behind. Please.”

“We don’t need to if you’re not doing ok,” Page said, pushing her upwards with his back.

“Do you want to or not?”

Page’s own chest hurt. He didn’t utter a word.

“I’m ok. I- I promise you,” she said.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Hasty,” he said.

“I want to have more sex with you. I want to. Please?”

In spite of his reluctance, Page gave in to Hasty’s desires. He’ll make time to prod her about that later.

Hasty’s body, laid with her back on the bed and flanks spread wide, slowly worked Page’s erection back to its peak. He admired her body more now than ever, but the scare still lingered in his mind.

“I’m ready, Page. Put it in,” se said, “Please.”

Page rooted his hind hooves on the carpet and the others on the bedding on Hasty’s sides. He slipped away from her entrance, just like Hasty had before, but his patience helped him overcome the problem. It felt liberating to move his hips freely, the aching on his hip was no longer a nuisance now that he was in control.

Her groans were honey to his ears, and her lips were just as sweet. The movie, forgotten long ago, was looping scenes from earlier. Page had tuned it all out - the only thing that he cared for was the speed of his thrusts and the beauty under him.

This new position helped his cock reach further in - his sheathe now pressed against her clit whenever he reached her deepest wall. With a strong will and a whole lot of want, Page managed to outspeed Hasty back when she was the one on top; the filly was more than delighted to receive his love.

Page tried going even faster, but a burn on his shin stopped him before he fell down again. Now that he paid attention to it, Page realized how much it really hurt. Hasty had done a number on him once again.

“Page? Why did you stop?” she said.

“My hoof hurts. Sorry, I gotta lay down,” he said, pulling out of her and sitting down on the carpet.

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean to.”

It’ll probably bruise. Feels like it will.

“Will you be alright?” she said.

“Yeah, let me just rest for a bit.”

“Hm. Here, just- grab my hoof.”

Ignoring his limp’s pain, Page held onto Hasty’s limb and hoisted himself to the bed. Once there, she rolled him over to his back, kissed him and grasped his glossed member.

“Just lie down, ok? I’ll make it up to you.”

Consumed by her craving, Hasty hurriedly slipped Page’s length into her and bounced her flanks. No inhibition held her back, Page’s pelvis was hammered without remorse - her ass clapped louder than ever and her cunt devoured and twisted his cock.

Bit by bit, Hasty increased the strength at which she slammed her clit against his crotch. Her boiling walls choked, contorted, rasped his member, causing bursts of moans to escape from both of their throats.

Avid for further pleasure, Page’s hips humped upwards, closing the gap Hasty made between them, smashing their bits together harder and faster, and flinging his ball sack against her ponut. Hasty’s cries heighted whenever their bodies met while his owns mixed with groans that blurred the meaning behind his words.

“Ah- Ah- Ah- Pa- Pa- Page- Page- I’m- I’m…”

Hasty pressed Page as farther into the bed as she could and grinded herself onto his lap. Her convulsions strangled Page beyond his limit - she was going to squeeze him dry if he didn’t give her more of what she wanted. The head of his cock enlarged once more, rubbing its flat shape against the narrow entrance of her womb and spurted time again and again.

The mix of their liquids trickled down to the bedding, overflowing from her lips and trailing down around his hips.

Flushed and exhausted, Page let his lungs regain their composure while Hasty rubbed the last traces of her afterglow on him. Once satisfied, she laid down atop of him to relax. Unlike him though, she had enough air in her tanks to wrestle tongues with him.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Hasty said, parting her mouth for what felt like an eternity.

“What-”

“You’ll sleep here with me,” Hasty nuzzled Page’s cheek, buried her nose in his neck and sniffled him. Was his sweat that good?

“I don’t know if I can. I told my parents that I was going to the library, they’ll freak out if I’m not back by dinner.”

“Call them, tell them that you’re staying with your marefriend. They’ll eat it up.”

“Marefri- *cough*” Spit went through the wrong hole. “They’ll get on my case if I say that! They’ll find out that I lied!”

“You aren’t, though.”

“I’m-I’m not?”

“No,” Hasty peered into his eyes. They had a pretty blue tinge to them. “You’re not.”

He nodded. She had an even prettier smile.

“Let’s take a bath,” she said, “We’re a mess. I got some more papers to look over before mom comes back.”

Page helped Hasty sluggishly rise from their sloppy nest and down the bed. His hips ached and his hindleg was a stump, but Hasty’s trot looked wrecked in comparison. His half mast jolted a little bit after looking at that, just a little bit.

“Again?” Page sighed. “One of these days your father will find out that you’ve been sneaking into his office,” he reluctantly continued.

“Whatever.”

“It’s annoying to have to read so much legal mumbo-jumbo, Hasty. Do you even know what you’re looking at?”

“I do.”

Page sighed again; days like these were where he cursed his quick reading. Soft strands of hair pulled his chin upwards, Hasty’s needy gaze and spread flanks greeted him, then coiled around his neck like a leash.

“You wanna see a filly up close? I’ll let you see everything in the shower if you do me that favor.”

He could do a little bit of reading. For her.