Rumble watched from afar as Kettle Corn painted yet another circle.
He didn’t really get it. Sure, she’d gotten her cutie mark in haikus, and this was her favorite thing to do even despite that, but…why? Circles were boring. They were the same thing every time. Round. At least a haiku could use different words each time.
Yet the filly plowed on, painting circle after circle. Sometimes she just made one big circle stretching across her entire canvas. Sometimes she made a few medium ones of different colors, interlocking with each other. One time, she even made a circle out of a bunch of smaller circles. It was astounding just how much she got out of circles. It was almost admirable in a weird way, the bit of pep she managed to put into each drawing. Her legs spread wide, providing stability for her front to make the roundest round thing she could. And her tail drifting up, exposing…
Rumble blushed and looked away. He knew plenty about what was under that tail. But what he also knew was that Thunderlane always said it was impolite to stare at things ‘down there’. At least, impolite until you’d gotten to know the filly or mare in question. And he didn’t know Kettle all that well. They’d had like, one conversation, and that was only after he’d taken the cutie mark day camp by storm and persuaded everyone to join his counter-camp. All he knew was her name, the fact that she liked circles, and that she’d gotten her cutie mark by writing haikus.
But if there was more to him than just flying…maybe there was more to her than just circles. Now that the camp was back up and running, he could approach her and get to know her. Maybe make a circle or two himself. Maybe he was missing something by not drawing circles. Some things seemed dumb until you tried them.
Rumble glanced around, making sure that the rowdy bunches of foals in the camp were far enough away that he’d have the filly to himself. They were; some were canoeing, others were horseshoeing, but all of them were busy having fun. He felt unusually awkward as he walked across the camp. Take a breath, Rumble. She’s just a filly.
“Hey. ‘Sup?” he asked once he finally got close enough. Kettle Corn didn’t turn around, but she did respond after dipping her hoof into some paint again.
“Oh hey, Rumble!” she chirped, her eyes flicking back only for a moment before her attention was back on her canvas. “I’m painting circles! Wanna join me?”
“Well uh, I wanted to ask you something actually.” Rumble pawed at the dirt before trying to meet her eyes somehow. “You got your cutie mark in haikus, yeah?”
“I did get my mark!/It was really fun and cool,/learning ev’ry rule.” Kettle giggled as she finished up another circle. She turned to face him, and their gazes finally met. “Why do you ask?”
“Well…I’m open to earning my own now. But I have no clue how to start. Can you help?” He felt a bit silly asking someone who he had previously swayed into not wanting a cutie mark how to get one. But the Crusaders seemed plenty busy today, and…well, there was just something about her he couldn’t put his hoof on. It was probably the circles, but that seemed like too easy of an answer.
“Sure, I could help you!” Kettle Corn exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “Follow me home after camp/and we’ll have a blast!”
And that seemed like way too easy of an invitation to get to know the young filly. But Thunder had taught him to always take advantage of good opportunities when they came, no matter what. So he swallowed his inborn suspicion and nodded, before smiling. “That sounds good to me. See you then! I’ll let you get back to, uh…circles.”
“Okay!”
And just like that, the filly turned back to her circles and ceased to notice anything or anyone else. Jeez, she was almost as particular with her circles as he was with his flying. He wondered if he’d find out why she felt that way.
He shrugged as he walked away. Either way, it was a matter of time.
“Alright! Now we can get started!”
Kettle Corn stood proudly atop her bed, while Rumble watched from below. Time had really flown, what with the camp closing early due to the Crusaders being needed somewhere else, and Kettle’s house being surprisingly close to the camp grounds. They didn’t talk about much on the way over, but as soon as they had both navigated past the filly’s parents, she seemed to get that same sparkle in her eye again. It was almost as if she had an on and off switch. And “on” was definitely what she’d been when grabbing a bunch of paper and paint before scurrying off to her room.
“You’ll get your mark quick!” Kettle chirped, her tail wagging back and forth. “Just listen carefully now/so we can begin!”
“I’m listening,” Rumble half-lied. He was listening somewhat, but he was also taking in her room, and it was definitely…something. Her wallpaper was covered in small colorful circles. Her pink bedsheets had circles seemingly painted directly onto them. Her lamp had a circular lighbulb. And a red circle rug—what other kind, after all?—was what he was currently sitting on. Maybe there wasn’t much more to her than circles.
“So! We’re gonna try to get you a circle cutie mark. But to start…what do you know about circles?” Kettle asked, leaning down closer to Rumble.
“Wait. Why would I want a circle cutie mark?” Rumble asked.
“Because circles are the base of everything!” exclaimed Kettle Corn in a high pitched squeal. “The wheel? It’s a circle. The sun? A circle of light in the sky! The plates that we eat off of? Circles! It’s all circles! Now, tell me what you know about ‘em!”
Rumble blinked. As expected as that command was, it still caught him off guard after that brief tirade.. “Uh…they’re round.”
“Very!”
“They…start and end in the same place when you draw them.”
“Heck yeah!”
“And, uh…they have 360 degrees?”
“Right!”
Rumble’s resolve sank a bit as the filly kept staring at him expectantly. That was honestly all he knew. He didn’t even know any fake facts he could try and call up, though something told him that she could easily refute any misinformation. “That’s uh, it. I guess.”
“That’s it?” Now it was Kettle Corn’s turn to look confused. “You mean you didn’t even know that circles have the smallest perimeter compared to other shapes of similar area?”
Rumble winced at the influx of jargon coming his way. “I’m not good at geometry, so no?”
“Oh. But you at least know that a circle refers to only the outline of what’s called a disk, right?” She seemed to be sounding more and more desperate with each factoid.
Rumble smiled awkwardly. “I do now, I guess.”
Kettle Corn shook her head, tutting. “Well, I have a lot to teach you then.”
The filly hopped down from her bed, landing neatly next to Rumble. She tore a piece of paper away from the big book of paper she’d brought in, and opened a tin of red paint. “Here. Paint me a circle, and we’ll go from there.”
“Uhhh…okay.” Rumble hesitantly dipped his right forehoof into the paint, and planted it on the paper. Using his left hoof to steady the paper, he made the best circle he could. It wasn’t perfect, but it was round, and ended where it began. That was good enough, right?
“That’s an oval,” said Kettle Corn. “It’s way taller than it is wide. Try making it shorter.”
Rumble groaned, but obeyed. His second attempt looked a bit too short, but at least less distorted than his first attempt. He looked to Kettle for approval. She smiled shyly, but also shook her head. “Almost. Here, let me help.”
The filly dipped behind Rumble and, to his surprise, leaned forward against him. Her hooves grasped his and, a bit shakily, guided him to the paint, and back to the paper. There, he was made to trace a circle, but Rumble wasn’t paying any particular attention to the paper. He was too busy noticing a sudden burning at the tip of his ears, and behind his cheeks. He could feel her breathing as she gently but insistently pushed his hoof around to form her favorite shape. She felt soft, and…smelled nice. Almost like lavender. Now this…he didn’t mind it as much as drawing circles. He could maybe get used to this.
“There!” Of course, it had to end just when it got good. Kettle Corn stepped forward, removing her soft fur from his back, and pointed at the resultant shape. “That’s a good circle. How do you feel after painting one?”
“Uh…to be honest?”
“Yes?” There was definitely a sparkle in her eyes now. Rumble almost spoke the truth, that he was intensely disinterested in what they were doing…but before he knew it, he found himself answering otherwise. He just couldn’t dash her feelings here. It seemed too rude, too impolite.
“…excited. I’m even tingling a bit.” Rumble smiled lopsidedly as a tingle did pop up in his hooves. It definitely wasn’t from circle-painting, but he couldn’t tell her that. She’d probably lose hope or get mad at him. He didn’t want that.
“Ooh, good!” The absolute winner of a smile that the colt received in return made him feel warmer. Kettle Corn sat down and clapped her hooves together, before taking a breath and reciting another haiku: “Now you’re on your way/to your circle cutie mark!/Nice painting, Rumble!”
“Heh, thanks.” Rumble shifted around, scooting imperceptibly closer to the filly as he did so. Something about her enthusiasm and that moment of close contact had been…addicting. He wanted more. But how could he get it without acting weird? “But uh, hm. Maybe I should watch you do some more painting first before trying it myself again. Learn from an expert, you know?”
“Nope! The best thing is practice!” declared Kettle Corn. “I can’t always be around to hold your hoof after all. You should make you-circles, not me-circles!”
Darn. But maybe… “Okay, well how about you tell me some cool circle stuff while I paint? Maybe it’ll soak in and I’ll get super good at them.”
“Good idea! I’ll even tell my facts in haikus!” Kettle Corn cleared her throat, and staring nowhere in particular, she began to recite: “Did you ever know/that circles are really old?/Made by cave ponies! Circles are also/found in many different things/such as the cycles. Rain falls down from clouds/and lands in lakes and rivers/before ascending! Circles even…”
Past a certain point, Rumble began to tune out Kettle’s endless stream of circle haikus. Now that he’d tried it, he knew there wasn’t anything super interesting about painting circles. His absent tracing across the paper showed as much; his circles were still far messier than the one the filly had him trace. But after finishing each circle, he scooted just a bit closer to her. The blush returned as he painted circle after circle, and got closer one wiggle or fake cough at a time. It eventually became its own reward: paint a circle, get closer to her. He was probably getting even worse at circles the longer this went on. But just as he was about to make contact, the filly came down from her high.
“…circles on flags, too!” Kettle Corn smiled expectantly as she looked towards Rumble’s paper. “Now let’s see what you—…why have you been making triangles?”
Rumble coughed and looked down. She was right. His circles had become so deformed they looked like triangles. Maybe it was time to come clean after all. He’d never get his mark at this rate. “I…don’t think I like circles very much, Kettle Corn.”
“Is it because they’re red?” Kettle’s look fell a little bit, but she still seemed to remain hopeful. “We can do blue ones. Or we can try smaller ones! Or maybe even upside down circles!”
Rumble tilted his head at this. “Isn’t an upside down circle still just a circle?”
“Aha! So you do know something else about circles!”
“But I’m probably not gonna get my cutie mark in them. I’m nowhere near your level!”
“Okay, that’s true…” Kettle deflated a bit more. “I just wanted to help, though…”
Despite everything, Rumble felt a lump form in his throat as the filly sank a bit further down, slouching now as her perkiness deflated. “Maybe we just have to think about circles a little differently.”
“Different how?” Oh jeez, she sounded like she was going to cry. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. This called for drastic measures. He’d been planning to put on the charm slowly, but maybe it was time to voice his ultimate wants and needs. It didn’t have to end with an excitable little filly breaking down in tears.
“Well…we can make one. From us.” Rumble explained weakly. Crud, what was another way to put it? “Like, out of our bodies.”
“What…?” She didn’t sound any further from crying, but she didn’t sound any closer either.
“It’s…a very rare and special form of circle. One that ponies who are very close make. And…I feel kinda close to you, Kettle.”
“You do?” The earth filly sniffed, wiping one of her eyes. “Why?”
“I dunno.” Rumble shrugged, before scooting closer and giving her a gentle hug. She didn’t hug back, but she didn’t push him away, either. “You’re super excited about something and I like that. I’m the same way with flying. You’re also soft, and a really good teacher, and you smell nice, and you’re cute, and…” Rumble finally managed to shut himself up before he blurted out one thing too many. “The point is…I feel like we have something in common. That’s why I asked you for help. And even if I’m not getting a circle cutie mark…I think we can still both do stuff that feels good, and have our circles too…so to speak.”
To his relief, Kettle finally showed a gentle smile. “I…nopony’s ever said that sort of thing to me before. I feel so flattered/and maybe a bit confused/but also happy.”
“Let’s start slow,” advised Rumble, finally unhugging the filly reluctantly. “We can explore other circles first. Then we’ll do the special kind of circle. But only if you want to. Okay?”
Kettle Corn nodded and sniffed again, before turning back to the paint before them. “So, should we—“
“Forget the paint for now.” Rumble could feel the paint beginning to dry on his right hoof. That would be hard to get out later, but that wasn’t the priority right now. “Have you ever explored the feel of a circle?”
“What do you mean?” Kettle asked, sitting up and regarding him with interest. “Circles don’t feel like anything. Other than really cool, I think…”
“Painted circles don’t feel like anything,” Rumble agreed. “But maybe, somepony who’s willing to—like me—can trace them on you and you’ll see how it feels. And then you can do the same.”
Kettle Corn was silent for a while, and Rumble began to blush as he imagined all sorts of ways he was going to be rejected. He’d never been rejected via haiku before, but maybe that was about to happen. Maybe she was just gonna call him weird and tell him to leave. Maybe she was even gonna tell her parents on him.
“I guess I’ve never thought of circles like that,” Kettle whispered eventually. “I’d like to try, though.”
“Here, come on.” Rumble clambered to his hooves and fluttered on top of the filly’s bed, before laying back against her pillows. “Put your head on my chest and close your eyes. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Okay…” Kettle Corn obeyed, first hopping onto her mattress before lying down on her back. She scooted up across the bed until her head met his chest, and kept her eyes closed. Rumble felt his cheeks light up as he felt the pattern of her breathing through his hind legs—a bit shaky, but otherwise calm, warm, and nice. Her fur against his fur felt so good he almost forgot what he’d promised to do. But a promise was a promise, so the colt reached out his right hoof and got to work.
He felt weirdly giddy as he began his first circle just above her stomach. To his initial shock, the paint on his hoof wasn’t dry, and he was actually painting a dim red circle into her coat. But if she noticed that, she didn’t say anything. So he kept going, making sure he wasn’t doing triangles this time. He switched to his other hoof after a small while, reckoning that he probably shouldn’t keep painting her if he could help it.
Kettle remained calm, occasionally shivering and going “ooh” or “ah” as his hoof grazed her fur. The way her weight lay across Rumble’s body was heavenly. He had the close contact he’d been asking for, and it was good. He found himself blushing harder than ever before as he drifted his circles a bit lower, now drifting around her tummy. The filly giggled a little as he hit a ticklish spot or two, but otherwise didn’t move. Eventually, she spoke, just above a whisper:
“This is really nice./Circles feel nice and gentle,/touching me softly.”
Rumble racked his brains as hard as he could to come up with a haiku of his own in reply; maybe he could impress her. “I’m glad it feels good./Aren’t circles more interesting/when I’m tracing them?”
“Ooh, a haiku!” Kettle grinned, opening her eyes to glance up at Rumble. “Do you think that you/could get your cutie mark with/enough haiku time?”
“Maybe,” said Rumble. He gently tapped her on the nose with his hoof. “Or maybe I’ll get it in circles. Only one way to find out.•
“That’s right,” Kettle observed. She closed her eyes again and nodded. “Okay. Let’s keep going.”
Rumble obeyed. But as time went on, he began tracing lower and lower. He knew where his goal was. But how would she react when he got there? He began to feel a bit excited as he considered the possibilities. She could still react poorly, of course, but there were so many ways she could react positively as well. Not the least of which would let them make that circle he told her about. He just hoped her parents wouldn’t hear whatever happened and open the door on them. Now that would be awkward.
Eventually, Rumble reached a critical point. The next gentle circle he traced would brush across that special spot between her legs. It was just barely within his reach, but he could do it. He swallowed and paused, feeling the sweat in his brow. Come on Rumble, just do it. If she doesn’t like it, call it an accident and go back up.
“Why’d you stop?” asked Kettle Corn, eyes still closed. “I was feeling good.”
“You ready to feel really good?” countered Rumble, raising his hoof from her fur and placing it just above her lower lips. He could feel the heat coming from her. It was now or never. Be a stallion, Rumble. Do it.
“I guess…” the filly shifted around a bit, her mane tickling Rumble’s nose until he brushed it out of the way. Rumble looked down at her and froze momentarily. His heart was pounding, his breathing ragged, and his forehead sweaty. This was what separated the colts from the stallions. Could he do it?
Yes, he could.
Ever so gently, Rumble lowered his foreleg, and made contact with the filly’s outer lips. She squirmed a bit in response, but otherwise made no attempt to stop him. That was good, right? Experimentally, he began tracing a small circle around her mound of sensitive flesh. This was it. His first time ever actually touching a filly there. Big bro had always said to be careful in that area, so his circles remained tiny and featherlight, only barely brushing across her fillyhood. His excitement only grew as Kettle made a quiet, tiny moan. She liked it…and so did he, judging by the familiar feeling of his own privates beginning to stiffen. Maybe circles were pretty okay, especially with how he was using them.
“Mh…” Kettle Corn whispered something else, but Rumble didn’t quite make it out. He kept up his circles, moving just a tiny bit faster, and whispered into her ear.
“A bit louder…?”
“I never thought of this.” Kettle began, opening her eyes halfway as she began to blush. “Using circles down below/to make myself glow…”
“So you’re…okay with this?”
“More.”
Rumble didn’t know whether that meant more than okay, or just to do it more…but both answers meant something more or less the same. So Rumble gave more, pressing a bit more firmly into her lower lips as he continued his teasing circle massage. He could feel the faintest traces of moisture on his hoof, slowly growing in volume as he kneaded. This was almost unreal. He hadn’t expected to actually get this far on his first attempt…what else could he do?
Thunderlane’s past advice surged through his head, not a second too late: “I can’t tell you exactly what to do once you finally bed somepony, kiddo. Just remember to trust your instincts and listen to your partner’s responses.”
Following his deepest instincts, Rumble remembered something he’d seen in a movie once. The young colt leaned down and, ever so softly, nibbled on Kettle Corn’s ear. He was rewarded with a soft gasp as the filly used her forelegs to push her deeper into the mattress. He didn’t really like the taste, but figured that wasn’t the point of the gesture. It made her feel good, and that was all that was important for now.
After another minute or two, Rumble switched hooves, figuring that the paint on his hoof finally felt dry enough to join in. He noticed that even so, things got damp very quickly. And more than that, Kettle Corn couldn’t seem to sit still. Her fur brushed against his fully-erect colthood as she tossed and turned, her moans slowly climbing in pitch and volume. His circles weren’t even circles now as his rubbing quickened, being more of an up-and-down motion across her moist folds. Rumble wasn’t sure which was hotter: her fillyhood, or his entire face. It was everything he’d wanted, so why was he still so bashful?
“R-Rumble, I’m close now,” moaned the earth filly as her legs spread wider, making divots in the covers. “Keep rubbing faster, p-please…/It feels so, so good…!”
“The…the middle line was only six syllables,” Rumble dumbly observed before berating himself silently. Was this really the time to be concerned about haikus?
“Not with…my stutter,” Kettle Corn forced out between more and more frequent moans. “But whatever! Just…keep going, please…!”
The best thing a gentlecolt could do was obey, so that was exactly what Rumble did. Obeying his instincts again, Rumble went for her other ear, this time biting a little harder, and bringing his tongue into play, gently circling the tip of her ear. Kettle’s many moans slowly turned into one very long one, rising to a seemingly impossible high pitch. Rumble could almost feel the tension she was experiencing as she bucked up against his hoof, squeezing her legs together around his hoof to try and savor every bit of stimulation she could get. She hung on to the edge for about ten seconds, her squeaks of pleasure suddenly growing less frequent as her breath hitched, her eyes squeezed shut even more, and her mouth opened wide, until…
Rumble leaned down and kissed her.
He didn’t fully understand why he did, but his instincts told him it was the right thing to do. All he knew was that there was about a second of relative silence, broken only by the quiet, wet sounds of his hoof squishing into her privates, before everything broke loose.
Rumble could not only hear Kettle Corn’s breathy squealing begin anew, but also feel it as she projected it forwards into his mouth. It was a good thing that their lips meeting helped muffle her throes of pleasure, but the little filly responded in other ways that he couldn’t fully control. Her thighs squeezed shut around his hoof like a vice, and she began bucking up and down on the bed, causing the springs to squeak and the sheets to rustle. He could feel her tongue shove itself into his mouth and begin probing around everywhere, as if their lives depended on it. He did his best to return her excitement, but she was difficult to keep up with, being a whirlwind of pleasure and passion. Through all of this, her eyes remained squeezed shut, but Rumble could feel her breathy moans as she expressed her gratitude very thoroughly. Rumble really hoped that her room didn’t have very thin walls, otherwise they were seconds away from being found out.
The storm passed slowly but surely. The bed stopped rattling, the pressure on his hoof let up, and Kettle Corn’s eyes slowly drifted open. The filly smiled as soon as Rumble broke the kiss. A strand of saliva remained connecting their lips for a brief moment before finally, panting heavily, Kettle Corn spoke.
“That was…so awesome./I’m glad you thought… of making/love with circles…now.”
“Heh, you’re welcome.” Rumble smiled awkwardly down at Kettle Corn. He’d felt that initial moment of attraction back at camp, but now it seemed so much more…substantial. Looking into her lidded eyes and at her tired little smile made him feel that much closer to her. There was a lot more to her than circles. He’d felt it then, and questioned it later, but there was no denying it now. She was a free spirit, willing to do whatever came next as long as it was either fun or productive. She seemed even more captivating than before. He stroked her mane gently at this thought, and the two sat in silence for a while, which was broken only by a gentle, content purr or two from her.
“I wish you’d told me…” Kettle started, “that you liked me this way first/before we began.”
“Why?” Rumble asked instantly, the word falling out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Kettle Corn looked him dead in the eyes and smirked. “So I could have locked the door, silly.”
Oh, right. Rumble looked instinctively towards the door and facehooved. He hadn’t even considered locking the door before getting intimate. Sure, the oft-used phrase wasn’t ‘behind locked doors’, but when he was so worried about being caught…yeah, that was a bit of a stupid moment. “Oh uh, right. Should I…?”
“Maybe, maybe not./What else did you wanna try?” Kettle fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Something just as fun?”
“I, uh…” Rumble glanced down. He couldn’t see his ‘little friend’, but he could definitely feel it as it pressed up against the filly. Driving his first filly to orgasm had been…amazing. So much so that he sort of wished he hadn’t been left out. “…maybe we can try something on me?”
“I guess that’s only fair.” Kettle Corn sat up, and then looked down at herself and noticed the circle painted into her fur. “Hey, look! You made a pretty good circle on my side!”
“Oh yeah…I did. You’re not mad?”
“Not with a circle this good! It’s the best one you’ve made!” Kettle hummed happily as she slid down off the bed, landing on all fours. She admired her new circle as if it were a cutie mark. “So, what do you wanna try next?”
Rumble thought about it. Part of him wanted to just mount her and rut her until things reached their natural climax, but his brother’s advice in his head said otherwise. Soon after he sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, he heard a gentle click as the door locked from Kettle Corn’s touch. He was so glad she liked him enough to do sex stuff, but what else could he ask for? Maybe something he was a bit more used to from his time with his big brother. “Uh…you ever hear of a blowjob…?” Rumble asked sheepishly, blushing as he formed the word for the first time in a long time. Even Thunder usually called them blowies, which was both more catchy and more casual-sounding.
“Oh Rumble,” Kettle sing-sung as she trotted back across the rug, coming face to face with the colt’s crotch. Rumble balked and shifted back a bit, but the filly was entirely unfazed by his stiff, wavering rod. “I’ve been around the playground many times before. How do ya think I afford all my paint for circles and stuff? Of course I’ve heard of a blowjob.” She giggled as she looked up at him. “We can do that. But I have one condition.”
“Okay…?” Rumble said, unsure of where this was going, and honestly taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He was dealing with a filly who knew probably more about sex stuff than he did. He hadn’t expected that.
“You need to talk only in haikus while I do it,” stated Kettle, playfully batting at his colthood with her hoof. “If you stop haiku-ing for too long, I stop my stuff. Deal?”
“I guess. That’s one way to earn a mark in them, heh—woah.” Rumble cut himself off as Kettle Corn suddenly latched on to the tip of his cock, running her tongue along the underside of his head. “Wooooah, okay,” he managed, fluttering his wings as he began to feel the pleasure seeping into his length. This was going to be hard, and he suspected she knew as much when she winked up at him, not moving any further for the moment. How was he going to come up with haikus with a smaller, wetter, warmer mouth than big bro’s wrapped tightly around his colthood?
“That feels, uh, really good,” Rumble began, counting the syllables mentally as he spoke. “You’re really good at this stuff,/keep going now please?” Whew. It wasn’t pretty, but it was a haiku. To his relief, Kettle Corn nodded lightly, before taking a bit more length into her lips. She began bobbing gently back and forth, drawing a moan from Rumble’s lips as her clearly experienced technique began to take over. He could feel her tongue running in circles around the tip of his cock, sending him to new heights.
Now it was his turn to grip the bedsheets as sexual bliss assaulted him, building a tight, hot knot in a familiar spot behind his groin. He began to sweat with the effort of not paying attention to the filly lightly grazing her teeth against his sensitive skin, and instead composing syllabic poetry. “Mmhng…that feels good too, woo,/just like that, keep on going/til the end comes.”
Suddenly, Kettle Corn popped her mouth off his cock and playfully glared up at him. “I’m gonna let that ‘woo’ go cuz you’re cute, but stick to words from now on, ‘kay?”
“O-okay,” Rumble agreed sheepishly. Just like that, she was back at it, expertly sucking at the front half of his length again, and even beginning to gently stroke the back with her hooves. He wasn’t sure if it was inspiration or just pure horniness flooding his veins, but a new, actually good haiku came tumbling out surprisingly quickly: “Feeling really good/pressure building deep inside/don’t stop, keep sucking!”
“Mmmm!” Kettle hummed appreciatively around the obstacle in her mouth, and redoubled her efforts. Rumble did his best to hold himself back; if he gave in too soon, no doubt she would not be too happy with him. Only the sheer force of will he put into not climaxing held him back at this point. Man, she must have had a lot of practice with this! Even Thunder struggled to give head like this!
But what else could he haiku about? Maybe he could just stick with facts now. “You’re the first filly/that I’ve ever had sex with/and boy, are you good…!”
For that, Rumble earned another wink as the filly now bottomed out on his rod. She sat there a moment, gently lapping at the underside of his cock, keeping him firm, but letting him cool down just a bit as she showed off her talent. He could feel her breath flow hotly around his pelvis, ruffling his fur in all the right ways. Clearly, she had this down to an art, almost as much as her circles. As if to tease him about this very fact, Kettle Corn rotated her head in a circle, interspersing quick tongue-thrusts to his tip as she took him around town.
“C-circles too, oh my,” Rumble panted, watching as the filly kept up the pattern but began moving back and forth again. “Dizzying and dazzling me/Round and round they go!” Man, at this rate maybe he would get a haiku cutie mark!
Kettle Corn just nodded in response, bobbing faster and faster, her eyes meeting his as best as they could. Rumble reached a hoof down and grabbed hold of her mane, helping her move back and forth across his entire length as fast as she could. Even his willpower wasn’t enough to hold back the pleasure now; it surged across his body, emanating from deep within. The little sounds Kettle made as she did her work only made things hotter. He was close now. But he knew the filly wouldn’t let him climax without one final haiku. He just knew it. What to say, what to say…
“I’m close, Kettle Corn…!/I’m going to explode soon/right into your mouth!” It wasn’t eloquent, but it got the message across. He felt himself being almost dragged over the threshold, his breath and heart quickening as one. He felt himself twitching in her mouth, drops of precum coming regularly now, signaling that the end was almost there. Rumble gripped the sheets and bit his lip, looking skyward as the moment hung in the air, tying that same knot in his groin impossibly tight..
…until it finally came loose.
Rumble tried his best to keep quiet knowing that they were only a knock away from potential discovery, even with a locked door. But he still couldn’t help but to let out a grunt here or there as he finally climaxed, and the heat that had built up spread all across his body. His wings fluttered gently behind him as he shot spurt after spurt of cum into her mouth, and she swallowed every bit. Thunder always swallowed it all too, but he was impressed to see the filly taking each wave of his seed like a champ, pausing only to inhale through her nostrils as she kept sucking, aiming to drain him of every drop. He was still sensitive, so he squirmed around as she remained locked on to his cock. “A-aaah! Kettle, th-that’s enough…!”
Pop!
The filly’s mouth slid off his shaft with a satisfying sound, and she quickly morphed her silent ‘O’ expression into a grin. “There! Now we’re even.”
“I…guess we are,” Rumble panted, gasping for air between words. “T-though…I never did show you that special circle…”
“Oh?” The filly leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Rumble winced as he poked at his slowly softening colthood, coated in a glaze of semen and saliva. “I’m…too sensitive right now,” Rumble admitted, the blush in his cheeks dying down as he caught his breath. “Can we try something else for a bit? Something…not sex-related?”
“Well…okay.” Kettle nodded, watching as Rumble’s length continued to shrink. “That makes sense. I know colts need rest after I’m done with them usually. I wonder why, though.”
“We get uh, kinda satisfied for a bit,” Rumble explained, moving to join his host on the floor. “Ever eat too much and feel stuffed? It’s like that, but…with our privates and feeling good.”
“Oh, okay!” The filly nodded again, accepting his explanation. It was a wonder with both how much she knew and how much she didn’t know…but granted, sucking off random colts at school probably wasn’t conducive to anything but more of the same thing.
Kettle Corn turned back to the various paints she’d laid out earlier and regarded them with interest. “Hey…mom and dad probably expect us to come out all messy with paint and stuff. Why don’t we have more fun with that?”
“I’m…not that interested—“
“Let me finish,” Kettle interjected, opening the purple paint and dipping her hoof into it. “We can paint circles on each other for a bit! You seemed good at it with me, and I don’t wanna waste that talent! And when we’re done, we can cuddle for a bit. Whaddya say?”
The offer of cuddling definitely caught his interest. That was one of his favorite things to so after fun times with Thunder. And painting circles, while boring, was admittedly much more fun with a living canvas. What was there to lose? “Ok, sure.”
“Great! I’ll go first.” Kettle Corn trotted up to the colt, and motioned for him to turn to the side. Rumble obeyed, and soon felt the cold, smooth sensation of paint being smeared across his coat, near his flank. It felt…pretty good for what it was. No wonder Kettle hadn’t objected to this earlier; it felt plenty interesting and dynamic to him, even if she was only painting a circle.
“And…done! Take a look!” Kettle Corn instructed, beaming as she blew a bit of her mane out of her eyes. Rumble looked, and found a bright purple circle right where his cutie mark would be. It clearly wasn’t a cutie mark, what with the little rivers of still-wet paint running down his side, but it looked as if she’d circled the cutie mark that he didn’t yet have.
“As far as I’m concerned, you earned your mark…so I gave you it!” The filly chuckled, looking at her own mark. “It’s not official of course, but I bet you’ll find yours soon too!”
“I’m not too worried about it, but yeah,” Rumble agreed. He looked down at the paints available to him, and this time chose orange, a bit of a complement to his fellow foal’s yellow coat. He decided to make his circle across her chest, and focused on making it actually a circle this time.
“That’s for your heart,” he explained when he was done, flashing her a smile as she looked down to admire her new decoration. “You’ve got a good one, full of helpfulness and passion. That’s what I like about you.”
“Awww, that’s so sweet!” Kettle Corn blushed as she looked bashfully away. “You’re a real charmer…”
“Heh. I try.” Rumble stuck out both his chest and his tongue after he spoke, trying to play it off as both nothing and something serious.
The two continued painting for quite some time. Rumble enjoyed the cold feeling of paint mixed with the warmth of his painter’s hoof, and relished finding new places to stick his circles as well, everywhere from her cheeks to the tips of her hooves. Conversation went by steadily, switching between explanations of their art and what was happening in their classes, or whatever else came to mind. By the time they noticed the setting sun, they’d dipped into every color Kettle had set out, and they were both covered in a rainbow of circles. Rumble didn’t mind it much, as a good shower would see him clean. Maybe he didn’t even want to take one right away when he got home…he wanted to remember today for a while. He bet that Kettle Corn probably felt the same, as she only ever stopped smiling to stick her tongue out in concentration whenever it was her turn.
“Are you ready for that special circle?” Rumble asked as his partner finished up her final circle on his left cheek, this time a green one. The filly jumped in place, almost as if she’d completely forgotten about his initial promise just a couple hours before.
“Oh, yeah!” the filly chirped, collapsing playfully onto the floor when she was done, spreading herself wide. Rumble couldn’t help but to glance at her exposed fillyhood as she did so, and while he blushed, now he felt justified in looking. “Whew, I’m tired…but ready! What is it?”
“Have you ever heard of 69ing?” asked Rumble, tracing the digits in midair as he spoke them.
Kettle shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Why’s it called that?”
“Well, 6 looks a bit like a pony laying down all curled up, and so does 9, just the other way round.”
The filly frowned in concentration. “So…what’s that have to do with a circle?”
Rumble chuckled, wiping his hoof on the floor to rid it of the paint still clinging to his fur. “Well, it’s more of an oval I guess. But it’s a big circle of us, well…using our mouths on each other’s privates. It’s reciprocal and ends where it begins, kinda like a circle.”
“Ohhh,” Kettle Corn said, her eyes sparkling as the connection formed in her mind. “Now I get it! So how do we do it?”
Rumble stood up, and positioned himself over the filly so that his rear legs were planted to the side of her head, and his head dipped down towards her crotch. He felt himself beginning to stiffen as his nose caught wind of her scent down there, something almost buttery-sweet. It was definitely different from the muskiness of Thunder’s equipment. “Like this,” he explained, a bit more comfortable now that he’d already done something with her. “I lean down and…lick you, and you do the same from where you are.”
“Like this?”
Rumble was surprised by the sudden feeling of Kettle Corn’s moist mouth on his cock yet again. This time, though, it wasn’t her tongue doing the bulk of the work; instead, her hooves joined the fun, stroking alternatingly up and down as the filly got to work once more. Rumble almost forgot to start licking amid the new sensation.
She didn’t taste like butter or anything similar despite her scent, but Rumble was still surprised by how much he liked the taste. Some hotshot colts at school complained of how bad fillies tasted ‘down there’, but as he dragged his tongue across his folds, that wasn’t the idea he was getting. She tasted plenty clean and not at all offensive to the senses. He wasn’t fully sure of what to do, having never eaten out a filly before, but he figured one thing: more licking was probably better, just like a blowjob. So that was exactly what he did. Judging by the moaning drifting up from behind him, he was doing a good job.
The two remained in this position for several minutes, both foals relatively silent as they focused on the task at hand. Rumble could feel that knot of pleasure tightening in his groin again before long, but not quite as strongly as the first time; it was therefore much easier to hold himself back from cumming, no matter how warm and wet Kettle’s mouth was. The young filly’s exclamations of pleasure almost matched his own grunts and groans, and the moisture coming from her lower lips increased as he doubled up his efforts. He locked his forelegs underneath her hind legs to make sure he remained in the optimal position to eat her out, which did the trick quite well.
Rumble’s snout was buried deep between Kettle’s legs by the time he suddenly heard someone call out from behind the door:
“Kettle, honey, time for dinner!”
Rumble stopped licking momentarily to look back at Kettle Corn, who didn’t stop her sucking. “Ah, y-you guys eat this late? Should we finish, or…?
He didn’t see her nod so much as he felt her nod with his entire shaft in her mouth. Rumble nodded and grit his teeth: things were on a timer now, and he had to be quick. Without taking the time to ask permission, the colt shoved his tongue as far as it would go into the young filly, and began to lick at her inner walls as fast as he could make his tongue move. He didn’t have time to enjoy the experience to its fullest, but he wasn’t about to just give up and leave his filly hanging.
Higher and higher became her moans, faster and faster went his tongue, flicking across the protruding little button he saw winking out on occasion; he remembered Thunder saying mares liked that. Fillies did too, judging by how ravenous Kettle became in return, now audibly sucking him off with her talented mouth, inching him closer to what would probably be the fastest climax of his young life. His wings fluttered as he slurped and devoured his forbidden meal, disengaging the brakes he’d put on his own potential climax. This was going to be fast and messy, he could just feel it. He held on tightly to the filly’s hind legs as they began to twitch and jerk in response to his ministrations, and as her tongue began swirling just beneath his rapidly flaring head.
They both came quickly, although he seemed to cum first. Jets of cum shot out like molten lava out of a volcano, no doubt painting the filly’s throat white. The involuntary contractions he felt were fewer in number than before, but stronger, propelled by his sense of urgency and by the constant stimulation that Kettle Corn provided. Meanwhile, Rumble found his muzzle quickly drenched as some more secretions shot out from her fillyhood, making the colt close his eyes until the spray died down. The filly’s legs shook with the quickness of it all, but before he knew it, she was sliding out from underneath him, his shaft popping free with that same satisfying sound as earlier.
“Wait…” Rumble gasped, still trying to make sense of the tsunami of pleasure that had just crashed into him, and the heat engulfing him as he tried to catch his breath. “I…I wanna—“
“Stay for dinner?” asked Kettle Corn, winking as she wiped her mouth of a strand of errant seed. “That’s nice! I bet my family’d be happy to have you.”
“That’s…not—“
“C’mon, we’re gonna miss dinner!”
And before he knew it, Kettle Corn unlocked the door and went flying towards the dinner table. Rumble just sat there panting, collecting his thoughts. How come she wasn’t out of breath like he was? Was staying for dinner right, or would it be super awkward seeing as he hadn’t asked the family beforehand? Would Kettle introduce him as a friend, or something more?
The colt sighed as he wobbled to his hooves and stepped out of the circle-coated room, bringing some circles along on his coat.
There was only one way to find the answer to those questions.
Author's Note
Kettle Corn speaks in haikus throughout this story, a syllabic form of poetry. You may note some words might have ‘undershot’ their syllables, like “aren’t”. These are often down to dialect; I am in the southern US, where such things can be two syllables if said slowly enough (are-nt, instead of aren’t all at once). I’ve chosen to write from the point of view that such words are one syllable, as that stands with the original intent of quick and easy speech.
However, if I’ve made a syllable miscount that doesn’t work in either a southern or northern American dialect, please let me know and I’ll fix it!
