Author's Note
Looking for a FIMFic commission from me? Just follow this handy link.
A-Creamed-Ment Hunter
9:30 AM flashed upon the screen, and the ‘Stream in Progress’ screen split apart; the scene it opened up to was one that got its occupant's view count climbing to a hefty 2,000.
Then, a voice piped up.
“Hello all on PonePlay.com, and welcome to another episode of the Banger & Mash channel, with one-half of your wonderful hosts, ‘Banger’! Gosh, it is a bit weird doing this without my son Button, but I’m sure he’ll understand! After all, we have a lot to digest in this session!”
Certainly, Cream Heart’s new look spoke volumes as to the influence her game-loving son had installed in her lately. Her hands were tipped with lacquered black nails with a triangle, a circle, a square, and an X imprinted in glitter; the same symbols as on her controller’s buttons. They were flashed only for brief moments, as those fingers were constantly pulling on a back-facing buckball cap that threatened to pop off the voluminous waves of her caramel mane.
Even her clothing was lighter than what she normally wore, as shown by the goosebumps raised on her peachy fur, just over the straps of her pink tank top and orange lace bra. Her thighs were a different story though; her legs were covered but only barely, every contour visible under the thin denim of her bright blue jeans.
Currently, Cream was sitting on a stool-like contraption with cushions rising to her chest over a narrow bar, like an exercise bike. It let her brace her hands on its highest point, keeping her leaning forward while still comfortable - and her generous front visible to her very appreciative audience.
“Sorry for the look, my friends - I know it’s far lighter than what I had on our last meet, but it is a scorcher this fine Ponyvilleian day!” Cream continued, her fingers now fanning before her sweat-dribbled brow. “Besides, now that my son is safely sequestered in school for the day, it’s just you and me now. And considering a lot of you on this site are closer to my age than his… well. I do so love dressing the part, as any smart mom does!”
As she shrugged, her wonderfully snug C-cup tits bounced in their silky cage.
“Of course, if you saw that session, you’d know that I’m very engaged with my son since he brought me on this stream. He’s the best little gamer this town’s seen - but this mare has learned some tricks, too. Take a look for yourself!”
Cream Heart’s viewer window then swung to the top of the computer screen as a bigger picture formed underneath it. The helpful logo at the bottom showed that the game she and Button Mash were playing Subnautica: Marine Mares Edition.
However, five minutes through their twinned exploration of a new cavern, Cream Heart’s personal screen blacked out. By 9:41 PM, the comment section underneath it let her know of it, several comments citing the PonePlay.com First Rule of Streaming. In all-caps, yes, but they had the spirit.
“W-whoops! Sorry about that folks!” Instantly, Cream’s face filled the monitor again, expression flustered and cap askew. Her shirt was in similar condition too, the swells of her girthy breasts spilling softly over the hems of her tank-top like fruit gelatin. Thankfully she was still decent for the moment.
Not like the climbing viewer count wasn’t curious to see if her wardrobe would fail its duty.
“And yes, my son has kept me well-appraised of how camera streams cut off if they don’t detect motion.” Her finger tapped heavily on her chin. “Strange though, we had a session of Friday Night Funkin’ and we were both like statues then, yet my feed never cut. I wonder why?”
The fans offered one suggestion above all others.
“Oh, you!” Cream tittered, waving them off. “Accurate as your assumptions are - I was wearing a push-up bra then! - I am not entirely convinced my chest moving kept those sensors alert.” She chuckled, the rrrisp of something off-screen letting them know of the opening of a can of ‘Chai-on-the-Fly’ mocha latte. “Surely I’m not that springy? I do work out too, my lovelies!”
As she tipped back the can and let the refreshing cool mix pour down her throat, her chest pushed out to the camera, jiggling and shuddering with every sip. The viewer-count was at 2,600 now.
“My my,” Cream breathed. “You’re all too kind. Thank you, but - I assure you, I’ve always had this type of body. Even before Button, I’ve been the talk of my school and gardening circles! Had quite a few suitors then, too!” Her lips pursed. “And maybe one day I’ll tell you about the one that gave me my wonderful lil’ muffin, Button!”
Then her eyes narrowed as she straightened up in her seat.
“Because today, even though he’s not here, this stream is all about Button. You see, my son has made an incredible first step in his life today! and even though he's such a shy little boy, I just can't keep quiet about this! My wonderful son Button - has finally gotten a date with a girl!”
The firing off of thumbs-up and smiley-faces came immediately after on the feed next to her face, emojis flicking through like a projector’s lens.
“Which brings us to this session. See, my son doesn’t know it, but I’m close to completion on a game I’ve been keeping secret from him - but not from you all, of course! It’s called Rift, and it involves you surviving on a raft from hungry sharks! Very timely, considering it’s Shark Week!” That event’s logo flashed above Cream’s head as she spoke, a row of jagged blue letters that flew over her like a mako’s jaws.
“And one I hope to actually complete with help from a very special guest I have - the assistant that the sister of my son’s special somepony is seeing!” One of her hands went up to face demurely, her breasts jiggling around it deliciously. “Ooop! Did I give away too much?”
The comments said that nope, she didn’t spill too much, but the Canterlot Times had. After all, the couple known as ‘Rarispike’ were not strangers to the camera - or to risqué shows of affection, as myriad links to their steamy tongue-tangling flashed up in Cream’s feed.
“Well, I’ll tell you another secret you might not know, folks.” Cream leaned closer to the screen. “They’ve said they have an open relationship, and I’ve got the inside scoop on who Spike’s ‘new second’ is! In fact, you might find out who on this very feed!”
With 2,900 viewers now on livestream with her, the feed was certainly rising to meet that occasion when it came. Cream tittered at the number, eyes dilating like it was a piece of cake.
“Wow, this might be Banger and Mash’s best stream yet, and I can’t wait to see the charity run today reach that level too!” Inquiries about it in the comments only made Cream’s smile stretch all the further. “Yep, yep, yep! Thanks to that donation goal you’ve helped us reach on the Subnautica stream, we’ve more than met the cost for a new seat and chair! After all this one, while wonderfully squishy, does have its issues that get in the way of game enjoyment!”
Cream’s legs locked around the base leg of the gaming crouch-seat she was on, as she swung from side to side. This had the effect of not only showing that her chair had a swivel base, not only the heinous squeaks it gave each time it turned to the left, but how much her voluptuous curves could roil as she moved.
“Sorry about that, those of you with headphones; had to show why I try to keep this seat stable!” Cream Heart bubbled. “And... well yes, I guess I could do this again at the end of the stream, why do you ask!”
They let her know why.
“So naughty!” Cream bashfully said. “So for this final leg of Raft, not only will our on-site merchandise be free for the whole stream - my gift to you all - I’ll be donating one hundred bits to the Ponyville General Cutie Pox Fund for every death I take in this game! Nice, right?”
A tidal wave of “Oh yeahs!" and “Great job, Cream!” followed that declaration.
“I doubt that’ll happen though; I haven’t suffered one yet!” Cream continued. “So just in case, if I go through without a single death, I’ll simply match this stream’s donation drive, bit for bit! For now, let’s boot the game up while we wait for our special guest! I promise you folks…”
Cream’s grin spread to a length that implied a lot naughtier thoughts than just beating a game.
“If any of you wanna see what’s under Spike’s scales; he’s a big giver to good causes, too.”
9:56 AM struck, and Cream’s personal camera flared to life again, along with the title screen of Raft looming beneath her feed. It took scant seconds for Cream to restart her session, and with a final tug of her hat, the button-mashing MILF was ready.
“Now, to backtrack a bit- that last level I faced is one I beat behind the scenes recently, my friends. It was such a chore, due to the shark’s A.I, and I flubbed when recording it! But I’ve got a voice-over prepared with what I know about it to keep you tidy, lovelies! Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me and Spike once this recording ends!”
10:56 AM came about, and Cream was playing the final level of Raft, the recording now over. However, there was still no Spike present in the sun-lit living room, despite the smile on Cream’s face.
“Well-” and her eyes drifted lazily to the door to her right. Nothing answered it. “-I guess we plow through this alone! Remember, I’ll either be matching either your donations or my own deaths in this game! So get those bits flowing; I’m really looking forward to this stream being a big catch!”
Humming as she tapped at her controller, the expertise of Cream started showing. While she jumped at each first instance the shark appeared, her fingers played an uninterrupted melody over the buttons, keeping her steps ahead of the sea beast. Her pose was relaxed enough that it betrayed a familiarity with survival games like this, while tense enough to allow her.
And her rocking on the seat was making her bite her lip with anticipation and need.
“It’s a good thing this stream’s age-restricted,” Cream said to nopony in particular. “I mean… me crushing this challenge, the multi-purpose gadgets you all can afford, the sheer delights...” she breathed. “It gets me all hot and bothered. Makes me see what my son does, being a gamer.”
Her teal eyes flicked over to the feed again, now 3,400 and climbing, and a certain comment on it made one of her perfectly tailored eyebrows lift.
“What’s that? You think me being close to the camera will help keep the sensors working?” Cream gave it a second of thought, then hit another button on her controller. The game screen froze in place, a far different story to the grin rising on Cream’s face. “Let’s try it, friends!”
With a few fitful tugs and some short gasps, Cream got her chair within three feet of the camera. Now her frame filled the screen entirely, and when she swung back onto the seat, the TV’s light highlighting how damp the session was making her mane.
Well, that and her pants, a dark patch of lust forming around the denim lining the inside of her thighs as she plopped her way back onto her seat. “I’ll check the screen at the end, folks,” she addressed to her viewers. “Right now, it’s all eyes on the prize.”
As she worked her fingers dancing over her controller, Cream looked the spitting image of a gamer half her age. Youth and glee radiated off her, even more than the waves of heat bellowing from her windows. It seemed nothing would pull her out of her element now.
Then the clicking of a distant doorknob rang out on her feed’s end. Soon, a staggering shadow cut across the floor behind Cream, Spike’s raspy voice following close behind.
“Sorry, I’m so late! Strawberry Sunrise and Rarity kept me runnin’ ragged and I saw you were low on food, so-” The first hint of Spike’s finely-cut face peeped into view. “Wait a minute, is this what you were doing all day?”
“I’m sorry, my friend…” Cream replied. “Must’ve missed the message. Just leave those on the ground, Spikie, I’m very busy.”
“Leave them on-” The heavy, camera-jarring thunk of his sack of potatoes and pears was almost dwarfed by the weight behind Spike’s next words. “You were supposed to be with me getting these vegetables, Ms. Hea-!”
“Spike, please!” chirped Cream. “It’s ‘Banger’ right now.”
“‘Banger’? D-does that mean we-” Spike furiously shook his head. “Forget that! Miss Cheerilee was worried sick when you no-showed! Did you forget we were on produce duty today?”
“Oh!” A coy hand shot up to Cream’s face as she blew a kiss at Spike, who stiffened on the spot. “So that’s what that ringing was about! I'll shoot her an apology soon - or maybe you could for me?” Coal-black eyelashes batted playfully again. “As a favor?”
“Tha-that’s not going to work, Ms. Hea-uh, Banger,” Spike grunted. “Just because Rarity’s okay with you and I-” Then his eyes flicked to the screen Cream’s eyes were still on. “Wait, is that a camera?! Who’s watching us right now?”
“Oh, others?” Cream airily said.
“Others? Others?” A vein was starting to pulse on Spike’s scaly temple as his hands started clenching and unclenching. “Are you going to look at me and explain?! Like, foals, or-?”
“Old enough, Spikie..!” Cream’s voice was still bell-light as she chided Spike. ”Besides, they’re very happy to see you. They’re almost as avid followers of ‘Rarispike’ as they’ve been of me!”
Spike’s shoulders relaxed a touch, though a discouraging frown still dominated his face as he waved to the crowd. “At least help me with this before you continue with this game, Ms. Heart; there are four more bags still in my cart!”
“Are there any other ponies on your route?”
Spike’s expression became blank. “Well no, but-”
“And the others need nothing else from you today?“
“I have a couple hours, but that’s not the poi-”
“And my son is still happy at school?”
“Yeah yeah, he and Sweetie Belle are all goo-goo eyes, now plea-”
“Then come closer and get comfortable!” purred Cream. “It’s not like everypony here hasn’t seen what's underneath. Plus…” Her voice dropped to such a sultry hitch that Spike's next exhale sounded like it came from an A/C. “I’m sure your muscles must be sticky under that shirt.”
Spike’s hands twitched, but eventually, he lifted his sweat-sodden black tee over his head, As he struggled to pull it past the spines on his head, the hints of his stone-sculpted abs peeked under his tank top. That last stitch of clothing above his waist stayed maddeningly on, though, as did his scowl. “This isn’t a joke, Cream. I’m not having my efforts get wasted because you refuse to get off your…” His tongue shot out to wet chapped lips at this. “...off your…”
Cream’s eyelids went half-mast as she admonished her audience. “‘Member what I said about that second of his, lovelies.” Then her voice rose above a cloud-light whisper. “Sure you don’t want to comment, at least? I’m sure the fans would love to hear what massive threats you’ve braved with your Element friends, Spike.”
“Damn it, Ms. Heart,” Spike groused, ignorant to Cream’s throat-clearing grunt of correction. “You’re this needy and it’s starting to grind my gears. Do you think of nothing but doing it when I’m around?”
“Don’t know, handsome,” Cream said, her waist lewdly swaying as the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on buttons rose in speed. “Last I checked, you were the one shoving your tongue down my throat when we first met behind the schoolho-”
Spike let out an angered grunt as he stormed behind Cream’s seat, the shadows he cut only serving to make the sweat sparking on her skin stand out more.
“Get out of that seat and talk to me directly, or…. or I'll make you, Banger,” he growled. “Count of three. Three.”
The words ‘can’t wait’ were formed from Cream Heart’s lips, but no sound traveled past to join it.
“Two.”
Daringly, Cream whistled obnoxiously as she craned in her seat. Her ample cleavage spilled over her shirt hem as if threatening to make their own break for it from the riled-up dragon.
“One.” In a split second, every finger on Spike’s counting hand flicked out, aligned, and then came whistling down in a wicked arc.
SWACK.
Cream’s heart-shaped rump jiggled in the wake of Spike’s swat across those fleshy globes, the denim offering no reprieve as she sucked in a husky breath. “That smarted, Spikie!” she whinnied loudly, though her amorous grin betrayed her pretense at pain.
Spike was blushing a harder shade of red than Cream’s cap, but he stayed straight-faced. “I mean-You said that we were-that usually works!” he flustered out. “Even Rarity doesn’t have a butt as sensitive as yours.”
Cream’s dark eyes darted over to Spike’s face again. She refused to mention that the reason was that she was grinding off her arousal on the seat cushions, her thighs too tightly wrapped against the quim-dampened leather to show it. In time, Spike would smell it anyhow.
“Are we talking from experience now, my big lovely Spike?”
Spike turned redder. “T-that’s none of your business!”
“Au contraire,“ Cream said in a stirring tone that was mockingly close to a certain fashionista pony’s. “I was speaking to the other Spike.”
Spike didn’t look down. He didn’t need to; even partially hidden by Cream’s swaying ass and tail, the comment board was awash with comments over the pipe-sized cock straining against his pants.
Cream noticed the four-thousand-strong height of her viewership as a result of that phallic show, her voice almost pleading as she turned back to the screen. “Sorry, Spikie - still not out of this lovely chair, despite your efforts,” she cooed. “Care to put something in a slot and try again?”
Spike’s grin curled to an utterly nefarious tilt.
“Oh, I plan to,” he said. Then he sank to his knees in one fluid motion, his face level with Cream's doughy rump. His tongue then pushed into the form-welded denim, squishing it against Cream's sodden pussy and making the crotch of her jeans even damper.
Cream let out a lecherous purr as she felt both tongue and denim grind harshly against her puffy lower lips. She raised her rump to allow Spike more access, eyes fluttering at the electricity the assistant was spearing through her system.
“S-so sorry, folks,” she throatily gasped, her voice temptuous and hoarse as Spike buried himself further in her rump. "Seems Spike wants to u-ah!-up the difficulty of this session. Isn’t it n-nice that he’s -oh yes- pushing my limits?”
Gazing back at the slot-licking dragon and away from the R-rated comments building on her feed, Cream’s loins clenched further at the sight. Spike had added his hands to the rump-ravaging mix, his fat purple paws kneading the flesh of her even fatter cheeks. His snout had almost vanished between her ass-cheeks, his sweltering exhales like heaven on her puckered ponut.
“Sweet C-Celestia, Spikie! You shouldn’t be this good at t-this…” Cream moaned, grinding her hips further. “Rarity always talks about how you’re more a giver than a-oh!-a gorger….”
Spike’s eyes flicked up interestedly. “Cush ouf mah cohck, right?” Then his lips retreated so he could slap Cream’s ass again, the flesh jiggling as much under his hand as Cream’s lip did between her teeth. “Well, it’d help if I could get some candy instead of the wrapper. Mind?”
Cream didn’t mind at all, a desirous smile spreading on her lap as she lifted her ass to help him. Spike’s hands gripped her belt-loops, and soon, those jeans vanished right under her rump.
Now Cream’s ass was wholly bared to Spike's greedy eyes. Speaking of vanishing acts, the floss-thin G-string resting there was doing a Hoofdini of its own between Cream’s heart-shaped glutes. The assistant’s mind was stuck in traction, wondering whether to wedge that swatch of pink lace further up against Cream’s snatch or ripple it way to suckle right on that glistening peach himself.
But he knew that either way, Cream’s mind would still remain on her game, and he hadn’t even riled her up to affect her masterful button-booping.
Well - no time to start changing things like the present.
“Actually, ‘Banger’...” he inquired; the words now far more fitting on his lips than five minutes ago. “Don’t you wanna fire up your fans with how we met?”
That Spike could speak so coherently was only because of his hands mashing against Cream’s glutes, the MILF trying her mightiest to re-sit on his face and failing. With a needy sigh, Cream relented.
“S-sure, Spikie!” she uttered, her eyes darting between game and her ass-munching assistant, curious which one would fire her nerves up first. "That investigation Rarity had for poor Dash’s sake was more generous than she thought. It sure brought you around my door more -oh my, yes!”
Distraction fully completed, Spike yanked away Cream’s thong and let his tongue take its place, licking a sparking trail right over Cream’s already drooling cunt. A trilling wail billowed from Cream at that friction, wet and wanton as she let one hand drift lower to grip a much more yielding surface; her clothed right breast.
“F-for fuck’s sake, Spikie, don’t stop! Tongue-fuck my twat. J-just like that! Just like Rarity’s!” Cream howled, hips wiggling and thrashing while his tongue did laps around her twitching folds. Primal and mind-melting heat flashed through Cream's body, making goosebumps flare on her arms and her own tongue flag out.
Of course, Spike couldn’t let the specific aside in her perverted plea go. “Lick you like I do Rarity?” he saucily asked, his tongue still battering Cream’s clit ceaselessly. “Don’t have the nose clips to do it like that. My apologies.”
“W-what do you mean?” Cream stuttered, desperately trying to keep ahead of the shark on her TV with only one controller-twiddling hand.
"Rarity… isn’t called the ‘Mane Six Supersoaker’ in jest,” Spike said, right after his tongue left Cream’s slot - to her regret. “I swear, every surface we screw on becomes quicksand or a slip-n-slide! Not that I’m turned off, but the staff and leasers? Different story.”
Cream’s tail whipped at one of Spike's shoulders to make him continue, As he dug back into her folds, Cream’s stuttering voice started up again. “H-hope you’re not thinking of t-trading her! I mean, I know I’m a scrumptious s-ah!-snack, but I’d never want to ruin you for your main coc-course.“
Two of Spike’s digits pinched at Cream’s pussy, making her tumble into another set of incoherent wails - and nearly off her seat.
“Not a chance,” Spike said staunchly. “She’s generous with both time and gifts, watching her sister and your son play is amazingly heartwarming. Plus... she’s so tight.”
“H-holy shit-how tight, Spikie? Inquiring moms want to cum-to know!” Cream moaned.
A smirk spread across Spike’s face as he buried it in the swell of Cream’s balloon-like butt, making its MILF-y holder twitch in ecstasy. “Used to joke about how Rarity's cutie mark was the closest you could get to flicking a bit at her flank and it not bouncing back.”
Cream only responded with an amorous purr, her back arching to match the cat-like sound.
“But... there’s something to say about a mare taking my breath away figuratively without also doing it literally.” And with that, Spike was silent again, his tongue back to dancing inside Cream’s waiting marehood.
Despite the pitch-dark predicament facing Cream on her game-screen, she was in absolute heaven. From sensuous licks to savage slurps, her clit was being worked to the bone, and the climactic sparks reached impossibly deep into her body. Her tail stroked trails of their own down Spike’s back, the well-built muscle and shoulder blades twitching like gears under her touch. She was close - both to completing the final level and to cumming over Spike’s face.
But something had to give. Cream’s vision was blurring, her gasps getting loud enough to block out crucial sounds in her game, her mane slipping from her cap to further block her sight. Eventually, her foul-ups in gameplay would cost her that zero-death streak in this playthrough. Eventually, the pleasure making a mess of Cream's brain and her chair cushion would lay bare more than the nub of her clit to Spike’s fingers - it would bare her weakness in the face of such endless tongue-fucking.
Then Spike leveled two fingers at her weeping cunt and logged in.
Cream’s threw her head back, a slatternly moan bellowing out from her pink lips. Her limbs stiffened, locking in her arched pose as she climaxed against Spike's seeking fingers, making the assistant behind her gasp at her walls clamped tight;y around him. Too bliss-barraged to even scream Spike’s name, she let her body's motions show her appreciation, her curves thrumming in tune with her wails as she spasmed and squired over her seat.
But by the time she looked down - and the white spots in her eyes gave way to the GAME OVER screen - Cream knew she’d been broken in more ways than one. A hundred bits out of pocket for an orgasm?
Somehow, she felt like she grossly underpaid.
Swiveling her hips against Spike’s still-wedged fingers to strain off the last bits of afterglow from her system, Cream’s droopy eyes swung to the camera overhead. “G-guess this charity’s not coming from one end anymore, huh?” Ironic the way the words came out, but the fans appreciated her wordplay nonetheless. “Not to worry, I’ll st-umph-still see this through.”
It was no longer the progress of Rift that Cream was talking about this time. Now she was eagerly thrusting herself back on Spike's bitch-breaker as she hit the START tab on her controller. The teenaged dragon’s digits were scraping at raw nerves of Cream's that sent liquid lust shooting through her. And she let Spike know it too, her hisses and cries thick with desire.
Spike, to his relatively amateur credit, was as diligent drilling into Cream’s tight cunt as he was stacking books in Golden Oaks. Even though his eyes concernedly shot up to Cream’s as he thrust into her gushing folds - knowing how sharp those fingers of his were - he was doing a wonderful job stirring up Cream. He explored every corner of Cream's clit, every clenching, sticky nook mapped like the quick study he was.
Soon, the ache between Spike's crossed legs prodded in his mind more than even the taste of Cream’s juices on his tongue. Standing up, Spike pulled his fingers out of Cream's drooling slit, pinching it one last time and smiling bashfully at the moan it ripped from the MILF’s lips. Then he sidled around the chair until he was crotch-to-cheek with Cream, though he didn’t really realize how close he was until Cream naughtily stuck her tongue into her cheek - and right against the leathery bulge of his own throbbing dragon-meat.
“S-shit,” he growled, a bit of smoke lapping at his own lips in response. “Oh! S-sorry, Cr-Banger. You know, if you want me to still call you that. Always thought it a weird name, but if you prefer it while we’re doing… well, this…”
Cream’s eyes glittered wistfully.
“Actually… something deeper to my son’s heart is the reason I took it, Spikie,” she whispered. “But yes, keep using it. I love how it sounds on your lips.”
“You’re n-not the only one.” One of his clawed fingers jabbed at the screen before Cream, the 5,900 mark only staging for a moment before it crossed over into half-dozen digits.
Cream’s chest-balloons jiggled alluringly at the laugh she gave. This was exactly why she’d become fast fuck-buddies with this assistant: Spike was timid and hard-working one second, daring and randy the next. And as the comments confessed, everycreature loved seeing his built frame turn a corner.
She may have had a head on him, but those facts were what made Spike larger than life.
On that subject, life certainly found a way to surge forth when Cream gave Spike a consenting nod. One errant pull of his sports shorts later, and Spike’s dick shot out to bounce lightly against Cream’s brow, the mare giggling sluttily as his freed member trickled pre-cum into her mane. Just as thick as his arm, and twice as veiny, Spike’s member was a titanic, throbbing pillar of youth.
And Cream wanted little else than to slurp at the virile, burbling fountain right at its tip.
“Good boy, Spikie,” she moaned, her tongue flitting out to bat at the golf-ball-sized testes swaying lewdly under Spike’s equipment. “And so eager, toooo… It’s like you remember I haven’t had much to eat all day.”
Spike’s nervously cleared throat betrayed a slightly more mundane reason for being so blunt with his bludgeon of a cock. “Uh.. well… it’s a force of habit. Rarity loves getting her mouth on this when doing measurements for her dresses. H-hands too.” A dopey grin grew on his face before he snapped back to reality. “N-not like your tongue’s not amazing! I-I mean-”
“Shushshushshush, Spikie,” Cream said. Her eyes fluttered up briefly, causing a five-alarm fire to flare across Spike’s cheeks. Or at least that’s what his blush looked like. “The main event’s about to start. Just stand there and let Mommy Banger make your shower rod sparkle.”
Then she opened her maw and sucked in Spike’s colossal cock-tip at last.
Spike was already fighting back a shudder at how hot the word sparkle flew from Cream’s lips - that word was a turn-on for reasons obvious to anyone who’d seen the disco balls adorning Twilight’s chest - but Cream’s lips on his dick let that roar slip free from him. Cream was every bit as thorough as Spike had been in her cunt, her lips stretching further over his cock with each thrust as her tongue bathed every inch of it in tingling saliva. And her playthrough gave a resoundingovertone to her lecherous slurps, fingers dancing over buttons each time she drew back from Spike’s twitching hips.
“Oh my… Banger, your lips are so amazing.” Spike groaned. “It’s like a f-fucking vaccuum!”
As Cream’s cheeks hollowing as she started taking Spike’s fuck-log into her throat, it was clear the compliment was well-received. Slowly, one of Spike’s hands nestled atop Cream’s cap, helping the game-playing matron heave her maw further on his length. Soon, Spike was happily petting and tugging Cream's mane as she hummed and gasped around his rod, guiding his girth along her lips whenever it popped free from them.
Spike’s eyes slid shut, trying to stave off the orgasm building up fast behind his buzzing nerves. However, they shot back open upon a tell-tale sound bursting from the TV. Once again, GAME OVER flashed over the screen in sharp, taunting red.
Looking down at Cream’s face showed the culprit; the MILF was using one hand to fondle his fat sack, the other idly listing on her contrller as she merrily slobbered on this cock.
“S-sorry about that.” The apology felt torturous on Spike’s tongue, but he gave it nevertheless. “If you want, we can wai-”
“Why would we, Spikie?” whispered Cream, fluttering her fingers at the screen and her gathered viewer-base. “You’ve just made Ponyville General sooo much richer with that.” Then she laid a line of kisses down the nine-inches-and-growing-length of Spike’s member, watching as his breath hitched in his muscular chest. “And I can always continue again, as long as someone’s willing to fill the slot.”
Spike didn't exactly need the Encyclopedia Canterlotica to know what those words meant. As Cream slurped on Spike's cock again and restarted her game with a stab of her glittering fingers, Spike’s hand returned to Cream’s head, impaling her further on his rod with each thrust. His orgasm started approaching again, like a bird soaring to Mt. Everhoof’s highest peak. It built and built, coiling low in his gut as he madly thrust into Cream’s cheeks, loving how his cock-head felt against the furnace of Cream’s mouth and the vice-like embrace of her packed throat.
And with one final shaking thrust, Spike knew he’d be parching this mare's thrist in mere moments. “Cream… I’m gonna-ohh-fuck, so hard-mmm-just please tell me if-"
Cream’s lips closed upon Spike’s lipstick-ringed dick like it was a life preserver, her grin around his medial ring devious and debased. And with a final keening wail, Mt. Spike erupted, the pop as his ring slid past her tight maw and he caked her throat with wave after tsunami of sizzling spunk. The burn that he’d started feeling in his hips was redoubled in the sluttish mare’s pipes, clenching to milk him for all he was worth as rope after rope of seed swelled her stomach.
Twisting her maw around him to wring every last drop of seed from his shuddering balls, Cream let out a final moan as that tool slid from her stained lips. Not a drop of his cream remained to dot her lips, no matter how mightily it still burbled from his tip.
“Amazing…” she whispered, her eyes only flickering once to meet the 11:29 flashing brightly on her TV. “Such a wonderful treat you gave me, Spikie.”
Spike turned his head to see another familiar screen flash over Cream’s tv, his smile drooping. “You sure about that, Banger?”
Cream rolled her eyes and tapped the button again, despite Spike’s discouraged sigh. “It’s so cute how concerned you are, Spikie baby,” she gurgled, the cum Spike had caulked her throat with still bubbling at the back of her throat as she showed off her prize to her fans. “But maybe we’d be better with your beautiful cock somewhere wetter.”
Shooting another guilty look to the screen - and the assembled watchers almost certainly about to be regaled with GAME OVERs from his next move - Spike sidled back to Cream. His eyes narrowed to slits again at seeing how ready for rutting Cream was, her seat’s gray cushion almost black with how much of her sap was soaked into it. The scent of Cream’s marehood hit Spike like the cart of his still waiting outside, spicy and sweet yet cloying around his flared nostrils.
“Go on, Spikie,” said Cream, her hips swaying to spread more of her glistening juices around, the sloppy squishing sound making her drool at both ends. “Let’s play, shall we-by Celestia!”
Spike, seeing so much of Cream’s juices going to waste on the seat and wooden floor, couldn't wait another second. With a guttural growl, he lunged forward, his hips slapping against Cream's as his cock slid under her and against the seat. Both he and Cream moaned at the friction and the heat pooling from each others’ centers, and it only took Spike one more adjustment for his blunt cock-head to slide into Cream’s dripping pussy.
“Yes yes yeeeeeeeees...” Cream lewdly gasped, her head slinging back as Spike’s purple prick pummeled into her rippling asscheeks. Her cunt squirted and clamped around his colossal pole, each thrust bringing cold air across it as it lifted her hips off the seat. Spike’s hands joined in the fun too, kneading and molding her doughy flank-meat under his needy claws.
All the ass-fondling did was light the struck match of Cream’s carnal fires. She raised her rump higher to help Spike drive in harder, the swickswickswicks of his cock slapping against her overflowing snatch echoing around the room like cannon-fire.
Between the flashes of lighting that Spike’s fucking brought the MILF, a part of her noticed with glee that her chair wasn’t squeaking anymore. Apparently, its legs and base were so sodden with marecum and pre that it had greased away that horrendous noise.
Maybe I should have Spike fuck me on this more often was the first thing to go through Cream’s fuck-drunk mind.
The second thing that went through it, or so it felt to Cream, was Spike’s erection as it finally dragged across her G-spot. Spike went almost as wild as she did when that spongy bundle clung to his cock like a glove, his hips like pistons as he slammed into Cream ruthlessly. However, with that force slapping in against her glutes, more of his cock slid outside her walls on each retreat, and one particularly long drawback left his throbbing shaft dangling on the cushion.
His animalistic growl at the air rushing to meet it was something Cream needed to hear again. So, she took the opportunity to prop her knees on her cushion, cradling Spike’s obese ramrod between her soaked thighs as he brought it back to her fuckhole. And also to re-continue her game, because… well, you know.
“Moooooore…” she whispered whorishly, her hand scrabbling to assist Spike as he guided his dick straight to its volcanic, yet welcoming home.
Cream’s juices were like a waterfall now, splashing onto the crotch of her jeans that were still wadded around the edge of her flanks. Spike's handiwork did nothing to help their condition, as her thrashing legs pulled the denim to its limit. She was bracing her elbows on the cushion, the game now paused and forgotten as she wailed and wobbled on her perilous perch.
And yet, Spike never missed a single thrust, every pistoning of his erection sliding home against that bundle of nerves. It took only seconds before Cream let out a very coherent Spikeeeeey~!” as sweet climax collided into her like that shark did to her avatar on the big screen. Her pose froze out again, her tits bouncing in their sweat-clinging cage as she wailed and screamed.
This time, it took a while for her loins to stop clamping and flooding around the cock sealing it shut. She shuddered in place too, all too happy to collect Cream’s wild release as it gushed out of her slot. The camera winked out again just as he raised it to his lips for a taste, his forked tongue a sight of its own as it did figure-8s around his quim-soaked palm.
When the stream window flickered online again, it was 11:40, the viewerboard was at a whopping 6,800, and Spike and Cream were far from done. Cream, thankfully, was off of her chair for the moment. What’s more, she and Spike were literally in the middle of their own lewd scenario now.
Cream’s hat was still on her head, but everything between it and her knee-level pants was stripped away. Well, save for her bra, but it was being kept up more by the greedy pair of purple claws kneading the breasts underneath it than any silly thing like straps or gravity. The afternoon light lingered longingly on Cream's curves, amber fur glistening in the light like it was carved out of an Evergreen log itself. And her arms were curled behind her, keeping the head of the wonderfully jacked dragon behind her latched at her neck as she moaned wetly.
Spike, to his credit, was wholly naked now. He needed no light to highlight his frame, plentiful as it was - every one of his curves rippled and bloomed as he held the MILF to him, purple scales wrapped snugly over bulging diamonds and squares of muscle. Several inky black marks were visible on Cream’s neck thanks to his questing teeth, and he was fast at work on another pair of hickeys at her collarbone, making obscene slurping sounds the whole way.
And as for his cock, you ask (as ten comments in a row did in kind on Cream's live-stream screen)? The second he finally pulled his hands back from Cream’s breasts to yank that unlatched bra off of her slim shoulders, that massive member of his showed itself again. It was still rock-stiff and pussy-hungry, tapping against Cream's drooling clit as her thighs ground down on its head. The veins shimmered and pulsed under her merciless grinding, and pre was streaming down in a steady river.
“So hot, Banger,” Spike said, all too happy to go another round as he blew smoke lightly across her sensitive neck. “Where do you want it now? We’ve got... three hours before I’m needed back.”
“In me, Spikie, or the s-ohfuck!-in the school?” purred Cream, still conscious enough of her surroundings to shoot a thumbs-up to the camera as her head lolled past it.
“Y-yes?” There was Spike's timidity again.
“Smart answer.” Then Cream curved her head to face him, kissing him roughly.
Spike’s claws went back to their homes atop Cream’s pert breasts, scraping at her nipples as she ground against him. His lips punished Cream for her neediness, invading and plundering her mouth as drool seeped past their meeting maws. To be fair, he was cheating a little to gain that access to her mouth, his hands pinching and tugging at Cream’s nipples whenever her tongue threatened to slip past his.
Considering what he met from that first kiss though, his greed was understandable, and not just because of his dragon roots. Cream’s own mouth still had traces of caramel and mocha, hot sweetness mixing with the cloying toffee scent of his own cum. Mere moments ago, he might have blushed at the thought of swapping spit and sperm. Now, with this mouthwatering MILF shuddering and humping against his body with wanton lust? Moaning her need to be filled so much with his seed that she couldn't walk?
“So sweet too, Banger?” Spike saucily said to the mewling mare wound around him. “Makes me wonder what your other holes are keeping from me. Been working my tail off, y’know.” Then one of his hands left behind a diamond-hard nipple to swipe at Cream’s gooey cunt.
Cream moaned again, breaking their kiss and swiveling in his grasp as he pinched at her pussy's nub. Soon, her mouth was full of Spike’s fingers, candy-like cum swirling around her tongue as he fucked her mouth with those talons.
Spike seemed to have some awareness of them being watched too, his other hand quick to work on spreading Cream’s melon-like asscheeks to the curious camera. Cream's tail flagged immediately as his hands slipped and tugged at her glutes, her puckered and needy holes revealed as he worked. Soft, sultry sighs left her as she swiveled her rump, allowing Spike to slap at her rump until those sighs turned into mini-shrieks.
Deciding that Cream was prepped enough this time - it’d be more accurate to call the spot between her legs a creek now with how much juices were trickling down it - the dragon took action. Dropping to his knees, Spike pulled down Cream’s thong and jeans with him, allowing her to daintily step out of them. Then he got up to lean back on the chair, his spines threatening to puncture the pads atop them as Cream crawled atop him.
“Be-be careful, Cream,” Spike said as she felt her snatch wink and drizzle its sparkling cargo over his stiff mare-breaker. “Remember what happened to the last chair.”
Cream tsched, her smile deliriously wide as she placed her hands on Spike’s chest. “Guess we’ll have to fuck in front of the camera if that comes to pass. I still want to compete some more, my dear Spikie.” Then she picked up her controller in one hand and used the other to latch into Spike’s shoulder, the MILF dropping hard onto Spike’s rod.
Spike yelped, feeling her cunt seize him. He had another chance to knot this raunchy gamer; an achievement that'd been nagging at him ever since he’d been peeling the clothes off her hourglassed body, and he wasn’t going to lose this golden-coated opportunity. Of course, that needed start-up time - so as she tapped away at the controller, Spike softly cuddled her ass to serve as her new cushion.
Cream’s hips snapped and swirled around his feral fuckstick, the mare hissing out curses every time it plowed her walls. “S-so close…” she whimpered, both to Spike and her viewers. “Yes! Yes! I’m in so deep, I can’t lose this!” she maniacally howled, ego and libido blending in her sex-dripping voice.
“Too tight, Cream,” Spike lied, his hips rising to crush into hers with each plummet she took upon him. “D-do you have to move your butt like that all the time?”
Impaled with such prime dragonmeat, a moaning mess from the emotional high she was riding, Cream could only nod in deranged bliss. Spike’s hands only served to wrench more lewd sounds from her, his fingers now moving to stab inside her heaving plot. They’d been so messy with their lovemaking before that it was shining with cum and sweat. As his fingers slipped in, Cream’s cries hit new heights. She even curled in her so she was perched right over Spike, twerking and milking his dick at the same time.
But he knew that’d be for later. Cream was too much of a wailing, slutty jackhammer around him for him to risk losing that orgasmic look on her face by switching fucktunnels.
Besides, with such supple skin grinding on his girth, Spike was all too happy to let loose. Pearl-white jizz soon fountained out of Cream’s throbbing folds as Spike roared out his climax, and Cream shivered as she felt it pack her pussy fuller than full. She didn’t even wait this time as she stood up and off Spike’s weeping cock, her tongue flinging out as she closed her lips around his head, whipping off her cap as she did so. Those last few pumps slammed Spike’s spunk home into her throat, her belly peeking out just a bit at the double helping of dragon-sperm.
She knew she could take much more though; and so could Spike, breathing hard but otherwise ready to go, hands steady as they fondled her flanks. Grinning like a jackal, Cream raised her controller and again restarted the Raft game, Spike now sure she was on her dozenth attempt. He was about to talk about the futility of it, even though her now seven-thousand-strong viewerbase voiced their approval of Cream's actions, eager to see if she’d be the first pony to complete a game mid-orgasm.
Of course, his complaints faded into a sensual shout as Cream sprang up and sank down on him again. His cock sprang back to action inside her still-tight insides, leaping by inches each time she leaped on it, letting it impale her as it etched its erotic imprint on her snatch’s walls.
She was facing away from him this time, but no less focused on multitasking. The chair they were screwing on was shockingly silent as she piloted it to swivel her face to the TV. Then Cream leaned back in glee, now happy to let Spike brace another palm against her back as she fucked herself silly on him.
Cream’s mane billowed and swirled as she moaned “OhohohohfuckmefuckmeSpikieeee…”, the whirlpool of auburn making her look like an angel, baring her wings for flight.
Of course, it would be Spike that took her to cloud nine, pumping hips feeling like they were alright but everything between them feeling like heaven. He drank in every mewling wail of Cream as her head tossed and turned listlessly, her moaning music to her ears as they both hammered away savagely - one on buttons, one at cuntwalls.
Finally, sweet relief came two-fold. Spike finally nested home inside Cream’s waiting womb with one lucky, withering thrust of his colossal cock. Then Cream’s last button-tap found its home, and the final level of Raft faded away to fanfare and music; the loudest of which her thunderous wail as she came. For the third time in three hours, sizzling hot maresap bathed over Spike’s shaft and the chair he was on, and he was left as a heaping helping of goo as his limbs went limp.
But this was not his first rodeo with the relentless Cream. Visions of their first hour-long fuck-fest against the cherry-red walls of Ponyville Elementary danced before Spike's slitted eyes, his libido was running hot, and he was still rock-hard and firmly lodged in her cunt. He knew that Cream would not be satisfied until it fired off one last time, right in her deepest depths. And his thoughts were confirmed as the last tremors of Cream’s climax abated, the MILF leaning down to drape on his side.
“Think you… think you can…” Okay, Spike was apparently more fatigued than once thought. But he tapped into his reserves, awaited Cream’s last commands, and thanked Rarity for building up his resilience when those words came down. Silently, of course. Rarity had also taught him manners.
“Cum… cum together…” Cream hissed throatily, her eyes fully on Spike as she pushed her ruby-red ass against Spike again. “Wherever you like. All… all yours.”
Spike’s eyes billowed, his libido burst its banks, and he curled into Cream’s back like a spider upon its webbed prey. With a great deal of effort, his softening cock yanked itself free from its knot, shiny and throbbing as he groaned. A fresh spring of cum burst from Cream’s packed pussy to lube it again, the MILF’s eyes rolling in her head at the feel of fullness Spike gave her.
Then her mouth shot open wider than those teal eyes of hers as Spike slammed home into her welcome ponut in one stroke. And feeling that medial ring snap in again as all - yup, definitely eleven inches and change - warped her other canal like taffy got a yowl through her gritted teeth.
This time, there were no words. Even one would detract from the business as they bounced and collided together on that seat. All that was needed was their hips in motion, their stare into each other’s eyes, and the thwakthwakthwak of their bucking session to spur them along.
Cream, for her part, just balanced her head on a hand and let Spike rail her, her lips turning white under her teeth as the dragon’s dick trenched her ass-tunnel again and again. And Spike’s lips found their home at Cream’s neck, kissing over each hickey he’d left there like a paintbrush against the canvas.
Their mouths cast open as Spike gripped one scaly hand around Cream’s thigh, yanking it up high and drilling her even deeper. Her ponut clenched and suckled around him in rapturous return, the unbelievable friction and sensitivity making their hearts jump. Every plunge into that puckered path felt like an anvil-strike, the weaponized climax it was putting to form almost visible behind every slam.
But Cream’s springy yet resilient body rippled around his mare-breaking ramrod to take it, the rough pounding only making her wail in ecstasy. That final peak was coming, roaring, crackling along their spines like twinned thunderbolts. Spike’s teeth bared, canings bright and braced.
“Gonna cum, Banger…. Get ready, I need to destroy you with it…” he rasped.
“Do it, Spikie…” came the hoarse yet authoritative reply from Cream as she threw her ass into his pistoning thighs. “C-cum for your slutty little Banger!”
That was it. Spike’s release came right behind a snake-like hiss as he filled the last un-whitened tract of Cream with his cum. It felt endless this time, the endless repetition of Cream’s gamertag flashing like the victory screen feet from his head. Spiderwebs of light shot over his vision soon after, his hips grinding every drop of release that spewed from Cream’s ass all over those glorious glutes.
Then orgasm had its way with Cream one last time, her folds basting off a flood of juices as she spasmed in Spike’s grasp. The wet sloshing sounds of her pussy - and the dragonic dick flooding inside her other slot - made her orgasm expand to what felt like infinity. Yet, a smile was still plastered on her face as the last shots of Spike’s wilting ramrod plastered her on the inside. And when it ended, the breath she let out was so sweltering hot that Spike took her mouth in another kiss, lost to the impact it had as it fried what was left of his brain cells with need.
Both Cream and her spent fuckbuddy spent the next few moments panting, their noses now open to the heavy scent of sex lingering. Their bodies were raw and thick with marks, everything below their thighs glistened with rivers of seed, and they were fighting off slumber with every blink. But they were amazingly satisfied, and so was the nine-thousand-strong stream that watched them bask in their afterglow.
“So, Spikie…” Cream said, twiddling one of her damp locks in one hand as another trailed down Spike’s stone-chiseled abs. “Still worried about me compared to Rarity…?”
Spike looked at Cream like she’d grown two more ears. “R-Rarity who?” he finally squeaked.
Cream’s laugh shot around the room like an overfed breezie. “My my, Spike! Just like my son, too!” Rolling off the chair at last - and letting Spike’s dick flop out to drizzle cum against the chair - Cream kneeled on the floor to boop the dragon’s nose. “You’re such a little scamp!”
Spike gave Cream a watery grin. “Glad I could scamper to help you, t-then.”
“Oh the help is all Banger and Mash, Spike.” Cream said, still idly rubbing at a pebbled nibble. “Just wish I could see Rarity’s face when she finds out how… hard-working you’ve been today.”
Spike made a strangled noise that made Cream’s own ears perk in curiosity. A fat dollop of cum still clinging to one of them danced over her snout at this, making her giggle. “Pardon, Spike?”
“.... p-prolly might when she wants seconds from me.”
Now Cream was very curious. “How so? She doesn’t even know you’re…” Then her voice trailed off as Spike hand popped up a cell-phone, his clawed thumb flicking through tabs as she gaped. “Question on where you hid that notwithstanding, is that going to who I think…”
“R-recognized the name of Sweetie’s channel popped up on the screen. Back when y-you were going cowgirl on me.” Up popped another screen on Spike’s smartphone - a live cam showing off a very disheveled Rarity against a bed frame. Her fingers were digging roughly into her squirting, swollen clit like there were diamonds squirreled there instead of her jiggling flanks.
“Say hi to Rarity, Cream.” Spike said, his voice still brackish.
Cream hurriedly straightened her mane. “Hiya, Rarity!” she chirped at last. “Like what you saw on my stream today?”
“F-far from the only one, darlin-oh Celestia, I’m-” Then Cream thrashed and mewled, another wave of cum sloshing from her thighs to join the Luna Bay’s worth of marejuice on the floor. The feed cut off immediately after.
“Guess Rarity saw something else she liked, too.” grinned Cream, staring at her cum-speckled tits. Then her eyebrows shot up as she remembered the other thing running at the moment.
Thankfully, she hadn’t lost much time as her eyes shot to the field - it was 12:00 on the dot. “And for all you lovelies watching, that’s the end of our charity drive time. My thanks to all nine thousand and two hundred who showed love for your Banger, and I promise the bits will go to a good cause. I did die a lot in Rift though, so it’ll have to be astronomical-oh, my!”
Hearts almost bubbled in Cream’s eyes as the donation number bar popped up.
“Guess we’ll have to do another giveaway soon with all this surplus, assuming Rich won’t just offer up a mansion to help out!”
Her index and middle fingers then shot up in a cheery salute as she waved to her fans. Apparently, she was so stunned by the proceeds from her stream she’d forgotten she was still naked. Or maybe not, considering the salacious wink she gave.
“I’ll happily see you all on the Banger and Mash stream, tomorrow at six PM! Hope you liked this super special Shark Week stream! Till next time, Banger’s over and out!”
“So let me get this straight, Button. She named herself after your favorite drink?”
Button Mash’s face was so red at that point he looked like a raspberry Pop-Tart. “It used to be,” he said, grimacing as he threw away the PDA in his hands like it was on fire. “Can’t believe I played hooky for this - I’m never going to get that sight outta my mind!”
“You played hooky for much more than that, mister,” Sweetie Belle pouted, trying to cross her own slim legs. It was… less successful than she’d wanted. “‘Sides, do you want your grade to get chopped in half because of one missed alarm?”
“How’d you even know Spike wouldn’t be watching us sneak away today?” hissed Button.
Sweetie shot Button a please-stop-talking-you’re-dropping-the-IQ-of-this-room look. “Okay, so remember how each time we sneak out for a movie past bedtime, my first words aren’t ‘oh no’ or ‘Rarity’s gonna kill me’, but ‘call Spike and tell Rarity he found a new gemstone’?”
“Y-yeah?”
Sweetie nodded fitfully. “And remember what I said when you forgot to do your half of the project, instead of ‘then why’d you pick me as your partner’ or ‘I’m gonna let Diamond Tiara wallop you when school ends’?”
“Just to make sure the phone lines were out at home before I left for school, w-” Then Button’s face turned chalk-white in revelation. “You knew, didn’t you!?”
“What? That my big sister’s bigger fling’s hot? That he and your mom hang around a lot? That all they need is time together and… well, what you saw happens?” Coquettishly, Sweetie Belle covered her lips with a hand. “No way, that’d be devious of me! My sister would hit the walls!”
A piecing, rapturous wail shot out of the room next to theirs. “Think you’re a bit late for that, Sweetie.”
“Shut it, you. You still have to make up for slacking on our project; now get back to eating.”
Button, with an almighty sigh, refocused her attention forward - right under Sweetie Belle’s skirt, and the very exposed petals his tongue had been bathing for an hour now.
“Startin ’ta think Scoots was right about checking if you’re really Rares’s sis.” he muttered.
Sweetie harrumphed as she adjusted the laptop squat upon her desk - one whose cavity kept the quim-munching Mash out of sight “Jus-oh!- keep quiet for a minute, will ya?” she hissed. “We only have one shot at this before Miss Cheerilee starts call-oh wow-calling my sister. ” Then she fluffed her mane, tapped a button, and let her own computer’s light bathe over her own. “Sides’, I am family. S’just she’s focused on generosity, and I’m focused on… well, victory.”
Then her voice sank to a sultry purr as a flashing green triangle popped on her screen.
“Hello all, I’m ‘VictoryBelle02’, and today we’re going to marathon a one-hour showing of Portal, to see if a speedrun has a profound effect on a pony’s heart level!” She then tapped a device on her wrist that she brought close to the laptop cam,, the motion letting her mask the debauched ‘O’ her mouth curved into for a split second. “Don’t ask why, or why I’m on this potato-quality camera instead of my usual setup, but…”
Sweetie winked at the camera.
“I promise this’ll all be for a real good cause.”
