Double Needleby Not A PonyChaptersAppliqueBumblebunchingSprezzaturaCross StitchAppliquePistachio flitted about between three ponnequins. Vests needed adjusting, bolo ties needed fastening, and cowboy hats needed to be angled just right. “Can you believe it, Miss Stripes?” His grin was as wide as his hat. “Our very own displays at the Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention!” “I know, right!? How cool is that?” Every bit as ecstatic, Plaid Stripes popped up from behind a violet-and-white houndstooth sundress. Its skirt rippled in her wake, held only by the grace of a few safety pins. “In the very first Carousel Showcase, too!” What a difference the last two years had made for the young designers. Plaid Stripes had filled in nicely and traded her braces for a winning smile and an ounce of practicality. Pistachio’s sleek, farm-sculpted silhouette turned the heads of fillies wherever he went. From humble beginnings, they’d been invited by Rarity to help set up Canterlot Boutique for the convention and participate in her new initiative, Carousel Showcase, which would feature the work of up-and-comers like themselves under the Carousel Boutique banner. Sassy Saddles approached the pair, navigating two levitating dress racks around wayward boxes and display stands. "How are things coming along? You two seem excited.” Pistachio reared up and laid a pair of felt hats out on a shelf. “Just about done! I think this is going to turn out great.” “Yeah! I can’t wait until tomorrow!” Plaid splayed out a hoofful of scarves over the dress-clad ponnequin’s neck. “Hmm… Checkered? Striped? Checkered…? Checkered, yes.” Sassy quickly aligned the two racks against the wall, then closed in for a look at their displays. “May I?” Receiving no objections, she studied their work. “My my, Pistachio, these lush green accents are working wonders with the…” She carefully ran her hoof down a vest’s hem. “...is this cork leather? Very nice. I love what you’ve done with the bronze buckles.” “Aw, shucks, Miss Sassy, thanks! Just doing my best!” He pushed the ponnequin further out front. “I wasn’t sure about this one, but I’m glad you like it.” “And you, young miss,” she turned to Plaid Stripes’s display. “You’ve come a long way from the excitable assistant who chased whims like wild geese. You can certainly be proud of yourself. I can’t begin to imagine how you made some of these matches work, but you certainly have a knack for eye-catching patterns.” “I knew it!” Plaid tossed the striped scarf up in the air, which came tumbling back down over her head. “Thanks, Sassy!” She continued, from behind the garment. Sassy Saddles nodded and smiled. “I’d better get back to it. Keep up the good work, you two!” Across the boutique from the jubilating up-and-comers, things were no less busy. “How about we put it in that corner…? No, no, that won’t do.” Rarity was at a standstill. The Boutique’s newest display case, a marvel of cherry wood and strong glass, was sure to bring out the gleam and sparkles of her new jewelry line. Finding the perfect placement for it, however, was another matter. Too much sun. Not enough sun. In the way. Too out of the way. The case hit the floor with a careful but weighty thump and Spike emerged from behind it, stretching a kink out of his back. He stood a smidge taller than the average stallion and had firmed up quite a bit from the adorably chubby wyrmling Rarity had once doted on. Still, the prodigious strength of a teenage dragon could only stretch so far. “Um, Rarity?” Spike dared. “Coco will be here any minute now, maybe you can think about this for a bit and I’ll help her bring in the dresses in the meantime?” “Right,” Rarity nodded, still fixated on searching for the perfect spot. “Good thinking. So sorry about that, Spikey-Wikey. The Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention is starting tomorrow, and there’s still so much left to do!” Right on cue, the Boutique’s front door chimed a happy welcome for Coco Pommel. “Good morning, everypony,” she beamed. “I’m here to help!” Eight hours later, Spike, Plaid, and Pistachio checked into their hotel and set down their bags. They had a two-bedroom, three-bed suite all to themselves, generously paid for by Rarity. Spike flopped face-first over the armrest of a plush loveseat. “Whew. I’m beat!” He barely reacted when a giggling Plaid Stripes sprawled out from the opposing side of the couch, draping her forelegs and head over his back. “I have been dreaming of a couch for hours!” “Hey there,” Spike said. “Comfy?” “Mhm. You’re warm.” “Well now,” Pistachio mumbled through the handle of a shopping bag. He set it down and seated himself on a plush floor cushion. “You two seem like you’re having fun.” Spike craned his neck up for a better look. “What’s in the bag?” Trying to roll over for a better look, Plaid tumbled off dragon and loveseat alike and landed back-first onto the outrageously thick rug. “I bet it’s booze!” she cheered. “Is it kobylka?” “Not quite.” Pistachio stuffed his snout into the fabric bag and came up with a square bottle of enticing amber liquid. Spike hoisted himself up into a more reasonable sitting position. “Jack Donkiels, huh? You can take the colt out of the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the colt.” Pistachio chuckled. “Sorry, Miss Stripes, no kobylka here. I didn’t think I’d be able to slip more than one bottle by, so I picked my favorite.” “Aww…” Plaid lamented. “Good thing I brought my own!” She bounced back up and rummaged through her luggage. She came back up with a red-capped bottle of Orloff-branded kobylka which she proceeded to cradle and nuzzle like a newborn kitten. “Daddy’s going to be a little mad when he finds out, but it’s nothing I can’t apologize for with a miniature copy of Princess Twilight’s throne. Remind me to find a good souvenir shop after the convention, would you?” Pistachio nodded. “I’ll try and rem—” “Oh!” Plaid interrupted while fumbling to unscrew the clear liquor’s cap. “And, Pistachio, you don’t have to call me Miss. Stripey is just fine from handsome boys like you two.” Spike gawked at the two bottles. “Both of you, really? Sheesh. There’s no way I could ever sneak booze past Twilight. I can barely snack on a few gems at night without a guard telling on me!” Pistachio popped the cork off of his bottle and took a deep, hooves-free swig before slamming it down on the coffee table and nickering energetically. “Whew! That’s a good burn! Help yourself, Spike, there’s plenty to go around.” Plaid Stripes took a seat next to Spike and leaned in between the two boys. “You boys can have some of mine too.” Spike drank from the whiskey bottle before passing it on and picking up the room service menu. “Snacks are on me, then! Who wants nachos?” Bumblebunching"...and seven shtitches later,” Pistachio slurred, “I told myself it was the last time I ever made that rooster a vesht!" Spike and Plaid Stripes exchanged raucous laughter at the anecdote. Fellow hotel clients were likely bothered. Spike tossed a cheese-laden corn chip up and snapped it out of the air. “I’m so glad I decided to help Rarity with the Convention, you two are awesome!” “Aw! Thanks, Spike!” Plaid Stripes moved to draw a foreleg around Spike’s shoulders, only to stop in her tracks. “Oh! Oh! Speaking of sewing! You just gave me an idea, Pistachio!” She adjusted her mussed-up curly mane. “Stay put, I’ll be riiight back.” Being that she’d been draped upside down over the backrest of the loveseat, actually extricating herself took an awkward eternity. How she’d managed to get herself into that position was beyond the boys. Spike raised an eyebrow as she half-stumbled to her room. “Everything alright?” “Yep! Just a little tipsy. All good! Just hang on tight, there’s a little thing I’d like you boys’ thoughts on.” She disappeared into the room and pushed the door shut with her hindquarters. Pistachio tore his eyes off the closed door and inspected the half-full whiskey bottle. “Did you just see that too, or have I been hitting the bottle a little too hard?” Spike shrugged, took another swig of kobylka, and coughed. “Whoof. This is some strong stuff.” “Trade you,” Pistachio offered, pushing the whiskey bottle across the table. Spike took the offered drink and raised it. “To a successful convention tomorrow!” “I’ll drink to that.” Pistachio took the kobylka in return, lifting the bottle for a swig. Both were mid-drink as Plaid Stripes emerged from her room. “Tada! What do you think?” Pistachio’s drink sprayed across the room. Spike’s went up in a gout of flame. Their eyes locked onto Plaid as she sashayed into the room. Gone was the faux-fur-collared-vest-slash-cardigan she’d been wearing; in its place was sheer lace lingerie. The white garment framed her bottom just right, leaving ample space for her tail—and suggesting easy access to what hid beneath. Accompanied with matching knee-high socks and a lace choker, the outfit drew the eye to what it left visible more so than to what it covered. Pistachio blinked. “Uuuuuh…” Pistachio blinked again. A deep blush washed over him. “You look. It looks…um…it’s…” Pistachio shrank down and pulled his forehooves closer to his barrel. Closer to his sheath. Taking pity on the farmcolt, Plaid turned to Spike. The dragon had been stuck silent, barely holding on to the whiskey bottle in both hands; he’d barely caught it. She drank in his dumbstruck expression, then turned and posed coyly. “Do you like my latest design?” Spike nodded meekly. “How about the socks?” Plaid backed up closer to him and held up her rear right leg for him to admire. He nodded again. “How about… the back?” Still facing away, she planted her front against the carpet and flagged her tail as high as it would go. Looking back at him, she wiggled her butt for good measure. As expected, the lingerie left nothing to the imagination. Her mare bits were right in the open. Spike stared, mesmerized. Plaid looked down and smiled smugly. A hard, tapered reptilian cock stood defiantly between them. “Oh no!” Spike shook his head and snapped back to reality. He desperately tried to hide his erection; dragon claws or not, hiding an object of that size was no easy matter. Plaid Stripes whipped around. With eyes like dinner plates she leaned in to get a better view of the situation. Pistachio took inventory of the situation, drinking in both Plaid’s display and Spike’s situation. He felt tension building in his loins. As much as he wanted to hold it in, his member slowly emerged as well. “Spike.” Plaid looked the dragon right in the eyes. He wrapped his tail around himself to try and preserve his modesty. “... yes?” “I wanna suck your dick.” “Wh-what?” “I wanna. Suck. Your dick.” Spike stared, baffled. Plaid Stripes dived in. She began by swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock, then took just a little bit of his length between her lips. She teased and played with the dragon until he snapped to reality again. Spike melted into the loveseat as she continued her ministrations. “Ohh… Oh wow…” Encouraged by his reaction, Plaid moved closer and began exploring every angle of him. She bobbed her head up and down half of his cock. She rubbed it against the inside of her cheek. She worked her tongue around it. Pistachio looked on, flabbergasted, transfixed, flummoxed by the sight, sounds, and scent of oral sex. He held his hat near his crotch, obscuring himself from view. “Mm…” Plaid moaned around Spike. She pulled up for air, trailing a string of saliva between her tongue and his glans. She kept one hoof under his shaft, gently rubbing along his length. “So hot and thick... I'm going to have a lot of fun with you.” She caught Pistachio in the corner of her eye. “Oh! There I go again, getting all excited and forgetting someone.” Between two vulgar slurps, she lasciviously edged closer, lifted her tail, and presented her lace-framed rear. “Don’t be shy, Pistachio. Help yourself.” A hormone-driven bout of confidence gave new life to Pistachio. He smirked to himself and tossed his hat off to the side, leaving his mottled erection in full view. There would be time to be confused later. Had he not been entirely focused on the mare offering herself to him, he might have noticed Spike checking him out, just for a moment. Despite the dragon cock draped over her snout, Plaid Stripes stopped in her tracks when she felt Pistachio brush up against her rear legs. His warm breath sent a deep shiver coursing through her body. In response, Spike gently took hold of her head, and firmly pulled her back in. Plaid allowed herself to be handled. When Pistachio’s wet tongue made contact with her nethers, she gasped and was rewarded with another mouthful of dragon cock. She groaned and moaned through it as Pistachio began working her up. He gently teased her folds; suckled on her clit. He kissed and nibbled. He drank greedily of her juices. Her knees wobbled from the pleasure and she leaned into Spike’s crotch for support. His cock flopped out of her mouth and rested against her soft snout, dripping dollops of precum down the corner of her mouth. “Yessshh…” Plaid slurred. “Right there! Harder! Suck on my clit like it’s the last gumdrop in the bowl!” She nudged Spike’s hand with her hoof and set it against the back of her head. “Spikey-Wikey… Fuck my throat. Gimme that dragon fruit like I’m a horny possum!” The dragon’s eyes met hers. Plaid held his gaze, pleadingly, with the tip of his cock resting against her lips. Driven half by lust, and half by a desire to pause her stream of bizarre dirty talk, Spike pressed the mare into his crotch and buried his cock all the way down her throat. With what little clarity reached Plaid Stripes through the haze of bliss, she bobbed her head up and down his length. She ground her nethers against Pistachio’s tongue and face. She hungered for more, and the two boys were more than happy to provide. Eventually, she came up for air. Working Spike’s shaft with her forehooves, Plaid craned her neck to the side in hopes of catching sight of Pistachio. “Haaah!” She gasped. “More! Mount me! Plow me like your pecan fields!” Pistachio paused and blinked. Copious amounts of mare juices dripped down his chin. “Pecans…uh…pecans grow on trees?” Her tail slapped him in the chest. “Then make like a tree and fuck me!” Ever the gentlecolt, Pistachio wasn’t going to refuse a lady. He reared up and planted his forehooves on either side of her body before lining himself up. Spike took the opportunity to visually measure up his fellow male. He was pretty sure he had Pistachio beat on girth, but the stallion had nothing to be ashamed of. Plaid Stripes’s eyes grew wide as Pistachio’s flared cockhead pushed her back onto Spike’s shaft and spread her open. “Is that what you wanted, you horny little mare?” Spike teased while pulling her in deeper. Pistachio worked himself deeper inside her. He began with some gentle thrusts and slowly built up the pressure. “Ahh… Miss Stripes! Stripey! You’re so tight!” If Plaid had any objections to how the evening had turned out, she gave no sign of them. She found a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down Spike’s thick length and pushing back against Pistachio, but was soon thrown off when the stallion pushed just a little harder and fully hilted himself in her. She moaned loudly through the cock in her mouth, sending a pleasant jolt of vibrations through the dragon. Pistachio might not have had Spike’s prodigious girth, but it felt like it reached deeper than she’d ever felt before. It was like scratching an itch she’d never noticed before. She tapped at Spike’s hip for air, panting and groaning. “Mmmmph…. More!” “I don’t know what you just did to her, but it’s working.” Spike ran his claws through Plaid Stripes’s mane. “She’s…nnh…she’s going crazy.” Plaid winced as Pistachio pulled out slowly. Agonizing inch after agonizing inch left her feeling empty, only for Pistachio to thrust back into her until his testicles pressed against her body. Pistachio pushed his hips forward and forced her butt up for better leverage. “Just…mmmph…just giving her what she asked for.” He began building up a rhythm, basking in her tight warmth and the way she enthusiastically pushed back against him. “Yeeeesss…” Plaid hissed. “Just like that, keep going! Fuck me like a—” Spike hushed her by pushing her head back down his cock. “Shhh… There’s a good girl.” Plaid flashed him an innocent look before resuming her work. It wasn’t long before she found the flow of things once more. She let the boys take charge and reveled in the raw lust of being pounded from both ends. Spike held her in place, pulling her in when she slacked too much but making sure she didn’t hurt herself; Pistachio went at her like a finely-tuned sewing machine, fucking her in long, sharp strokes with almost mechanical precision. Spike’s cock twitched in her throat. “Nnghh! Haaah… Plaid, wait,” he gasped. “I’m… I’m gonna…” She pulled back but kept working his shaft with her hooves, aiming it right at her face.. “Mmmmnnnh, yes!—Pistachio! Harder!—Give me that dragon sauce! Make me your slut bucket!” Spike moaned loudly and threw his head back against the loveseat. Rope after rope of warm dragon cum splattered against the back of Plaid’s throat, coated her tongue, and dripped down her chin. Before she could swallow or savor it, Pistachio picked up his pace. A loud moan forced itself out of Plaid Stripes, spilling out even more of Spike’s semen. “Pistachio! Aaah! Pistachio! I swear I’m going to shove every needle in my sewing kit up your pisshole if you don’t keep going! Fuuuuuuck! I’m so close!” Pistachio clenched his eyes closed, desperately willing himself to keep going as long as he could while his thrusts grew more and more erratic. “Hnnnng… Miss— Stripey! I-I can’t hold it anymore! I’m cumming!” “Yes! Inside!” Plaid howled, pushed back against him, milked him for all he had. “Gimme that nut, just like your orchard!” Pistachio slammed in one last time, and both he and Plaid Stripes collapsed forward; her against Spike and the loveseat, and him on top of her. The room fell quiet; no sound save for the exhausted panting and the occasional pleased groan. Just two ponies and a dragon lying in a messy heap and basking in their afterglow. “So,” Spike said. “That happened.” Plaid Stripes giggled. “It sure did.” Pistachio’s eyes grew wide. “Wait. Stripey—Miss Stripes—Stripey. I just—You’re not—What if—” She draped her tail over his snout. “Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I had maiden tea this morning and I’m not in season. No risks.” Pistachio slumped back down and pushed her tail off. “Oh. Good. Okay.” Spike idly ran his claws through Plaid Stripes’s curly mane, still processing the frenzy they’d all just gone through. “So, what now?” “I don’t know about you boys,” Plaid replied. She licked some dragon cum off of her lips and stripped off the lingerie, “but I could really go for a shower, and I’d love some company.” SprezzaturaThe Satin Pillow Mareiott Hotel took pride in offering its customers the finest amenities, and the shower was no exception to this. Designed after the pegasus tradition of raincloud showering, the bathroom offered an open-floor, ceiling-mounted shower. It could easily accommodate an amorous couple or, in a pinch, three horny teenagers. After an initial mishap—never trust a dragon to set the shower temperature—said teenagers hopped in. “Hope I didn’t push you too far out of your comfort zone there, Spike,” Plaid Stripes said. When Spike turned around, she looked away. She was just looking for the shampoo, of course. The shampoo that just happened to be at crotch height very close to the dragon. Nothing improper. Spike shrugged and continued to rinse off his torso. “You took me a little by surprise, but I’m not complaining. First time seeing a dragon cock, I’m guessing?” “Guilty as charged, and you should be proud of it. I can’t say I’ve had one that thick before either.” Spike turned to Pistachio, who was lathering his fetlocks with rapt attention. “Judging by the noises she made, I’d say you’re not lacking in that department yourself,” he teased. Pistachio blushed copiously. “I...uh…so I’ve been told.” “Spikey-Wikey,” Plaid Stripes singsonged. “Do you mind getting my tail?” She turned around and raised said tail, blatantly flashing Spike and Pistachio. “Sure thing,” Spike said. He took the shampoo from her and worked some into the thick curls of her tail, admiring her curves and nethers all the while. When images of other lather-building activities began surging through his mind, his cock came back to life. Plaid giggled. “Enjoying the view?” Spike snapped back to innocent shampooing, only to realize she hadn’t been speaking to him. Pistachio had just looked away, trying and failing to conceal his own erection. Judging by the not-so-furtive glance that followed, the stallion hadn’t been looking at Plaid Stripes, either. Spike cracked a smile and widened his stance. “Look all you want; I’ll take it as a compliment.” “I…um…okay.” Pistachio hesitantly turned back towards them. He studied Spike like a frightened squirrel looks at a lazy cat. “Say, Pistachio…” Plaid advanced on him lasciviously. She winked at Spike while her wet tail slowly slithered out of his claws. “Have you ever done it with another stallion before?” Pistachio avoided her gaze and shook his head. She leaned in very close to him and whispered in his ear. “Would you like to try it? I bet Spike would be happy to help you with that.” Pistachio’s cock twitched and he snuck another look at Spike. The dragon looked content to watch the scene play out while idly massaging his cock with one hand. Plaid Stripes draped a foreleg around Pistachio’s withers. “You want to know what it’s like to be the mare for a change, don’t you?” He avoided her eyes, but another twitch betrayed him. “...yes, please.” She gave him a little peck on the cheek, flicked her wet mane out of her face, and stepped back. “All yours, Spikey-Wikey.” Pistachio watched over his shoulder while Spike approached and kneeled behind him. At some point during the conversation, the dragon had retrieved a tube of clear liquid. “Try to relax, and let me know if it gets to be a bit much, okay?” The stallion nodded and closed his eyes. He tried not to brace too hard for what would come. Spike began by teasing Pistachio’s tailhole with one finger, rubbing slick, chilly lubricant around in little circles before gently pushing in. “Okay so far?” “Y-yeah…” Pistachio’s breath deepened. It was an odd feeling, like discovering a new body part. Plaid Stripes took the opportunity to move in and hog most of the warm shower. Laid down on the tile floor, she drank in the scene and gently teased her nethers with the tip of a hoof. “You’re doing great, Pistachio. Just focus on relaxing.” Spike worked in a second finger and pushed in further. Pistachio hissed at the feeling. It was a stretch, for sure, but not entirely unpleasant. While the dragon wiggled his fingers back and forth inside him, Pistachio wondered if this was how it felt for mares. He could get used to something like this. When Spike shifted again, Pistachio braced for a third finger but froze as Spike’s free hand instead wrapped itself around his cock and stroked it a few times. Spike leaned in closer and finally inserted a third claw. His serpentine tongue brushed against Pistachio’s sack, then teased its way down his erection. Pistachio felt Spike gently bend his cock backward and wrap his mouth around his flare, sucking and teasing while still working on loosening him up. He reminded himself to continue breathing deeply. His body wanted to forget even that to focus on the feelings alone. Spike’s free hand moved to his own cock and he gave himself a few pumps, working himself back to full mast while preparing Pistachio for the main event. “Mmm…” Plaid Stripes licked her lips and ground her clitoris against her hoof. “If you keep this up, he’s going to cum before you even put it in.” Spike withdrew his claws and, after bobbing his head up and down Pistachio’s length a few more times, stood up. “Yeah… I think he’s about ready.” Pistachio moaned softly as Spike pulled out and away. He suddenly felt so empty; so wanting. “So… You’re going to…” Spike gave his own cock a few more strokes while Pistachio watched in anticipation. It seemed a lot thicker and more daunting up close. “Fuck you?” “...Yes, that.” Spike approached and placed one hand on Pistachio’s lower back, near his tail. “Do you still want it?” “I…” Pistachio instinctively lowered his rear and flagged his tail. “Yes.” Spike picked up the lube off of the floor and squeezed a generous dollop out onto his cock. He smeared it up and down his length then slathered what remained in his palm under Pistachio’s tail, drawing a gasp from the stallion. “I’ll start slow. Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Pistachio hung his head low and closed his eyes. He took a deep and meditative breath. “Okay.” Spike took hold of Pistachio’s hip with one hand and squeezed his cutie mark. With the other, he lined himself up, then grabbed the base of Pistachio’s tail. Both of them clenched their eyes shut as Spike began pushing in. “Nnngh. You feel so huge.” Pistachio forcefully exhaled in hopes of forcing himself to relax through the tension and pain. When Spike hesitated, Pistachio pushed back against him. “K-keep going. I think I can take it.” “You sure?” Spike eased back a little then pressed on carefully. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Pistachio took another deep breath and nodded. “It’s alright. It feels—ngh—it feels a little weird but it doesn’t hurt too much.” Stripes had an unmistakable grin. At some point, she’d shifted her attention to rubbing further back under her tail. “Look at you, Pistachio! Taking it like a cute little farm slut! Give it to him, Spikey-Wikey!” Spike rolled his eyes with a little smile, then turned his attention back to Pistachio. To give him some time to adjust to his girth, he reached around for the stallion’s cock. When Spike began jacking him off, Pistachio let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His legs wobbled and his tongue lolled out. Thanks to that released tension, Spike was able to ease himself in deeper and deeper with little thrusts, until his hips met Pistachio’s. Plaid drank in the scene like a teenage colt going through his first dirty magazine. “Oh my gosh! He took the whole thing. That’s so hot!” “Nngh, you’re so big.” Pistachio thrust his hips, pumping his cock in Spike’s hand and humping against the dragon. With his other hand, Spike squeezed and massaged the stallion’s cutie mark. He progressively pulled himself out then, encouraged by the needy little whine this drew from Pistachio, thrust back in. A surprisingly feminine moan rang out from Pistachio. “That! Do that again!” “Don’t mind if—ngh—if I do.” Spike closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Pistachio’s barrel for better leverage. He focused on the feeling of the stallion’s warm, tight ass around his cock. Pistachio gasped, moaned, and panted as the dragon penetrated him over and over. The feeling was like nothing he’d ever known. Pain, pleasure, intensity. Spike’s pleasured groans danced in his ears like a hypnotic siren song. That was him; that was his ass giving the dragon such joy. He humped back against Spike hungrily. He wanted more. He wanted to give more. Before Pistachio knew what was happening, wet warmth enveloped his cock. His eyes flew open and found Plaid Stripes bent down, helping herself to his hanging erection. Between the dragon pounding him and Plaid’s sudden intrusion, Pistachio never stood a chance. He couldn’t get a coherent word out through the blissful haze and unloaded down the mare’s throat while thrusting wildly between his two partners. Spike took this as his cue to pick up the pace and give Pistachio everything he had. He fucked the stallion hard and deep and focused on his own pleasure. Pistachio didn’t need any more help. “Mhh…. Oh yeah, here it comes!” With the kind of vigor only a horny dragon can output, Spike hoisted Pistachio up like he weighed no more than a bushel of apples, held him by the hips, and bounced him up and down on his cock. With his rear legs spread wide open and his forehooves reaching back to Spike’s shoulders for balance, Pistachio rocked his hips back and forth while moaning loudly. The rest of his ejaculation sprayed through the air while his erection flailed wildly, painting Plaid Stripes and the shower alike. Knees wobbling under their combined weight, Spike slammed Pistachio down one last time and hilted himself in the stallion’s tailhole before filling him to the brim with dragon spunk until it overfilled and coated most of his rear. Spike managed to set Pistachio back down on his hooves before collapsing on all fours. His softening cock flopped out against the tile floor. “Horseapples, that was hot!” Plaid Stripes cheered. “Next time, Spikey, I want you to do that to me.” While the orgasmic fog slowly cleared from his mind, Pistachio found himself staring at the cum splattering the floor all around them. He felt even more leaking out of himself. Plaid Stripes, if anything, was even more cum-soaked as when they’d first walked into the shower. He sat down. His rear complained of soreness, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I think we’re going to need another shower.” “Yep…” Spike sagged lower down to the floor. The shower was still running. “...and we’ve used up all the hot water.” Cross StitchSpike lay in bed, repeatedly skimming the same paragraph of the latest Daring Do, but never actually registering what it said. He occasionally nodded off, but the pleasant tones of Pistachio's old country record roused him each time. The stallion, Spike noticed, shared Applejack’s taste in music. Sitting on his own bed, Pistachio hummed along to Burning Blues’s A Colt Named Posey while crocheting a green scarf. After a brief—and cold—wash-up, Plaid Stripes had bid her suitemates farewell, claiming fatigue and a craving for warm blankets. It had been a wild and unexpected ride, but everything was back to normal. Until it wasn’t. Padded hoofsteps made their way into the room and a weight threw itself onto Spike’s bed, startling the dozing dragon. “Mind if I snuggle in? I’m suuuuuper cold after that stupid shower.” Plaid Stripes didn’t wait for an answer before tucking herself under the covers next to Spike. The dragon wiggled a little to the side to free up more space on the bed for her. “Heh, sure. Why not?” He returned his lack of focus to the book, which the mare took as an opportunity to huddle up against him. After Burning Blues finished crooning his way through Foalsom Farmhouse Blues and I Trot the Line, Pistachio set the scarf and his hat aside. Seeing that Spike had long ago given up on his book, the stallion turned off the lights. On his way back, he considered his options. One bed was spacious, comfortable, and empty. The other was cramped with one dragon and one mare. Pistachio went to the empty bed. He grabbed one of the pillows there and walked back to Spike and Plaid Stripes. “Mind scooching over a little?” Plaid Stripes squeezed her eyes shut harder and a mischievous smirk traced itself on her face. When she refused to move, Spike dragged her backward, surprised and flailing, to make room for Pistachio. Pistachio slid into bed and huddled against Plaid Stripes, across from Spike. “Thanks for a lovely night, you two.” “Right back at you,” Spike said while smoothing out the covers once more. Plaid Stripes cuddled herself deeper between the others. “Mmmm… You boys were hot.” All fell quiet, save for their breathing and the occasional sound of nightly passersby on the street below. Plaid Stripes shifted. Plaid Stripes shifted again. Plaid Stripes shifted some more. Spike did his best to ignore the mare grinding against his crotch. Plaid Stripes shifted one more time, then stopped. Outside, a carriage rolled by. A few moments later, galloping hoofsteps followed. Pistachio shifted a little. “Awfully bold of you, Miss Stripes.” Plaid Stripes giggled. “Wasn’t my hoof! Must have been Spike.” “I don’t have hooves,” Spike sleepily mumbled. “Fine, fine.” Plaid drew her sneaky hoof back to her chest. Pistachio tucked his head down and whispered in her ear. “I didn’t say stop.” With a surprised little smile, she scooched closer and felt for his sheath with her lower body. After a little more grinding than strictly necessary, she reached for his sheath and alternated between gentle hoof strokes and dry humping against his hardening length until it stood at full mast. Lost in the intoxicating smell of lavender shampoo and aroused mare, Pistachio groaned and gasped softly at her touch. His chin came to rest atop her snout. It wasn’t long before Spike, tempted by the nearby festivities, pulled closer to Plaid Stripes. His hardening cock came to rest against her rump. He ran his hands down her sides and stopped along the way to squeeze and knead her hindquarters, but stopped abruptly when his middle claw clinked against something hard. Confused, he felt out the texture of it. It was a gem, for sure, but what was it doing there? Spike investigated the curious object, carefully running a few digits down Plaid’s crack to get a better feel for it. Plaid Stripes kept her focus on Pistachio but her tail softly lashing at Spike’s chest gave her excitement away. When Spike found he could easily slip his claws between the object and her rump, he tugged on it. Plaid flushed red and whimpered softly. A mischievous grin traced itself on Spike’s face. “Hey, Pistachio, wanna see something hot?” Pistachio raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” Plaid locked up when Spike tugged harder. Her hoof stopped against Pistachio’s scrotum and she winced as the object popped out of her. Spike held up a silvery metallic buttplug capped with a fairly large violet gemstone. The business end of the plug, respectably thick but nothing compared to either of Spike or Pistachio’s measurements, glistened in the moonlight. Pistachio’s eyes went wide at the sight, and doubly so when Plaid Stripes decided to stuff half of his cock down her throat instead of explaining. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” Spike teased while tossing the plug aside. With Plaid laid on her stomach and her head across Pistachio’s crotch while sucking the life out of him, Spike could easily access her rear. “Don’t worry,” Spike said while tapping two fingers against her tight little pucker. “I know how to take a clue.” Thanking his good fortune that he’d set the lubricant on the bedside table and forgotten it there, Spike squirted some down Plaid’s crack and massaged it into her tailhole. Her tail flailed wildly at the intrusion, knocking the lubricant off the bed and onto the dark floor. “Are you planning what I think you’re planning?” Pistachio asked without taking his eyes off of the mare bobbing her head up and down his length with her eyes squeezed close. “If it fits. Definitely gonna need more lube and… Oh, dangit, where’d it go?” Plaid pulled off Pistachio’s cock. “I know where you can get all the lube you need.” She reached behind her back legs and lined Spike’s cock against her lower lips, then impaled herself down in one excited stroke. Her eyes bulged at the feeling and she pulled back up a little before slowly settling down again. “Oof! You’re a big boy, Spike.” She was wet. Drenched, even. Only a few thrusts were more than enough to get Spike’s shaft coated in enough natural lubricant to fix every creaky hinge in the hotel. Pistachio craned his neck for a better look at the action and stroked his cock while he watched. Plaid felt Spike’s weight shift on the bed behind her. She felt him kneel between her legs and press his cock to her anus. “Wait,” she said. “Not like that. I want to ride you.” Spike gave her butt a playful slap and plonked himself down on his back. His cock stood straight up, like a slippery monument to draconic lust. After kissing Pistachio’s flare for good luck, Plaid positioned herself facing away from Spike, which gave him a perfect underside view of her nethers. Careful not to lose her balance, she lined his erection up with her tailhole and carefully sank onto it. She exhaled forcefully as its tapered tip stretched her open. Spike cupped his claws around her butt to help guide her down. “Mmm… That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Is that why you had that plug in, you naughty mare?” Plaid wiggled up and down, repeatedly easing off before pushing just a little more. “Ooohhh… Yes… It hurts, but it hurts good…” Pistachio, not content with just watching and jacking off, dragged himself in front of Plaid’s exposed nethers. He admired the sight of Spike’s thick cock halfway lodged up her ass for a moment before leaning in and planting a kiss on her inner thigh. “Nhh… Well hi there, farmboy. What are you do-oooh. Oooh!” Before Plaid knew what hit her, Pistachio had run his tongue across her slit and circled it around her clitoris. The feeling threw her off-balance and she slid further down Spike’s cock. Spike caught her before she could hurt herself. Between the incredible tightness around his member and the delicious squishiness of her rump in his hands, it was taking all of his willpower to give her time to adjust. All the dirty talk in the world was caught in Plaid Stripes’ throat. When Pistachio gently pushed her all the way onto Spike while suckling on her clitoris, the only sounds she could make were breathy little moans. Pistachio smooched his way back up from her nethers to her chin, before sitting up to admire her predicament. “I’ll say, Miss Stripes, looks to me like you take it like a cute little farm slut too.” Spike slapped a hand against his mouth to keep from laughing, while Plaid dug for some spark of sass within herself; she found just enough to pull her lolled-out tongue back in her mouth and stick it back out at him. “Is—hnnggh—is that so?” She wiggled around with Spike still deep inside her. She’d be sore in the morning, but it would be so worth it. “And what does a cute stallion like you do to those little farm sluts? Will you show me?” Pistachio cracked a wily grin and hopped out of bed. “Sure thing, Stripey, but you’ll need to hang on a moment. We’ll have to make you into a proper farm filly first. Lay back and let Spike take care of you.” Spike slid his hands up from her butt to her sides and coaxed her backward until her back rested against his chest. “Ready for me?” Spike asked, resting his chin around her shoulder. Plaid wiggled a little. There wasn’t much she could do in this position, but she was fine with it. “Mhm.” Spike began with shallow thrusts. He barely pulled out half an inch before hilting himself back in. Pistachio climbed back onto the bed with his discarded hat in his teeth and a throbbing erection still hanging under him. He stood over the two. His cock came to rest against Plaid Stripes’s stomach while he leaned down to place his hat snugly onto her head. “There, now you’re a proper little farm slut.” While Spike eased halfway out of her, Pistachio slid his shaft back and forth against her slick marehood. “Still want to see what I do to my favorite little farm sluts?” Plaid was lost for words, so she nodded enthusiastically while sinking back down onto Spike’s cock. “Stay still for a second.” Pistachio thrust against Plaid’s crotch a few times, and eventually found her entrance. He effortlessly penetrated her all the way down to his medial ring. Plaid threw her head back just short of headbutting the dragon in the chin. “Oooohhhhhyesyesyesyesyes!” Spike shivered at the feeling of Pistachio’s cock pressing Plaid’s walls against him. “Oh wow, I can feel you through her!” “Nnh… Me too…” Pistachio pushed in deeper while Plaid Stripes humped ravenously between him and Spike. She wrapped her rear legs around the stallion for support and pulled him all the way in while sliding off most of Spike’s member. “Mmhhhh… So full… Is it my birthday?” “I don’t know,” Spike replied, “but I’ve got a big gift just for you.” He pulled Plaid back down until her rear met his hips, which drew a moan from her and a groan from Pistachio. Not to be outdone, Pistachio pushed back in until both of their cocks were fully hilted in Plaid’s holes. The mare shook from the intense stimulation; her eyes were squeezed close and her tongue stuck out limply. Her mane had long come undone and hung in tangles all over her shoulders and face. “Mm… that’s a good little farm slut,” Pistachio murmured. He began thrusting in earnest and fucking her nice, deep, and slow. He pushed far past full penetration, driving Plaid Stripes up and down Spike’s cock. The dragon followed his lead, guiding her hips back and forth and driving her all the way onto him. Rocked back and forth between the two stallions she’d spent the entire evening riling up, Plaid Stripes could do nothing but hang on to Pistachio for dear life and scream her excitement for the world to hear. Sometimes they would enter her alternately with one strong thrust following the other such that she never had a chance to relax. Sometimes they were in sync, penetrating her at once and making her head swim from the incredible fullness. Sometimes she felt one of them pause while the other picked up the slack, relaying to keep her lost in pleasure for as long as possible. All the while, the boys exchanged sultry, complicit looks like strange bedfellows on the battlefield of lust. The raucous bout went on for what felt like an eternity. Spike and Pistachio’s ears were ringing from Plaid’s unending howls, but it was only a few minutes before a body-wracking series of orgasms seized the mare. She slammed down on Spike and pulled Pistachio all the way in before working her hips up and down as fast as she could. Her juices squirted all over Pistachio’s cock and dribbled generously onto the dragon. Her fireworks of a climax set the others off like cherry bombs. They thrust into her again and again, trying and failing to keep in with her erratic rhythm. Spike and Pistachio came deep inside her one after the other with a rising crescendo of grunts and moans. They gave her as much as she could take, and then a lot more, until their cum pooled out alongside hers. For the third time that evening, the three collapsed into a panting and gasping pile of exhaustion to bask in the afterglow. “Mmmmmmmmmmmm… That was amazing. I really needed something like that.” Plaid Stripes smooched both boys on the cheek. For all response, Spike gave her butt a little squeeze, pulled her closer against his chest, and closed his eyes. Pistachio followed suit and edged closer until he could push his hat off Plaid’s head and replace it with his chin. He draped a foreleg across her shoulders. “The lingerie’s lovely, by the way. Good night, little farm slut.” Plaid yawned and snuggled between the two. Then, her eyes flew wide open. “...Guys?” “Mhm? “...There’s a huge puddle on the bed and I’m right in it.” Spike and Pistachio both cringed. “Gross.” Pistachio said. None of them wanted to get up now, but… “You know,” Spike said, “...the other bed is nice, fresh, and right there.”
AppliquePistachio flitted about between three ponnequins. Vests needed adjusting, bolo ties needed fastening, and cowboy hats needed to be angled just right. “Can you believe it, Miss Stripes?” His grin was as wide as his hat. “Our very own displays at the Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention!” “I know, right!? How cool is that?” Every bit as ecstatic, Plaid Stripes popped up from behind a violet-and-white houndstooth sundress. Its skirt rippled in her wake, held only by the grace of a few safety pins. “In the very first Carousel Showcase, too!” What a difference the last two years had made for the young designers. Plaid Stripes had filled in nicely and traded her braces for a winning smile and an ounce of practicality. Pistachio’s sleek, farm-sculpted silhouette turned the heads of fillies wherever he went. From humble beginnings, they’d been invited by Rarity to help set up Canterlot Boutique for the convention and participate in her new initiative, Carousel Showcase, which would feature the work of up-and-comers like themselves under the Carousel Boutique banner. Sassy Saddles approached the pair, navigating two levitating dress racks around wayward boxes and display stands. "How are things coming along? You two seem excited.” Pistachio reared up and laid a pair of felt hats out on a shelf. “Just about done! I think this is going to turn out great.” “Yeah! I can’t wait until tomorrow!” Plaid splayed out a hoofful of scarves over the dress-clad ponnequin’s neck. “Hmm… Checkered? Striped? Checkered…? Checkered, yes.” Sassy quickly aligned the two racks against the wall, then closed in for a look at their displays. “May I?” Receiving no objections, she studied their work. “My my, Pistachio, these lush green accents are working wonders with the…” She carefully ran her hoof down a vest’s hem. “...is this cork leather? Very nice. I love what you’ve done with the bronze buckles.” “Aw, shucks, Miss Sassy, thanks! Just doing my best!” He pushed the ponnequin further out front. “I wasn’t sure about this one, but I’m glad you like it.” “And you, young miss,” she turned to Plaid Stripes’s display. “You’ve come a long way from the excitable assistant who chased whims like wild geese. You can certainly be proud of yourself. I can’t begin to imagine how you made some of these matches work, but you certainly have a knack for eye-catching patterns.” “I knew it!” Plaid tossed the striped scarf up in the air, which came tumbling back down over her head. “Thanks, Sassy!” She continued, from behind the garment. Sassy Saddles nodded and smiled. “I’d better get back to it. Keep up the good work, you two!” Across the boutique from the jubilating up-and-comers, things were no less busy. “How about we put it in that corner…? No, no, that won’t do.” Rarity was at a standstill. The Boutique’s newest display case, a marvel of cherry wood and strong glass, was sure to bring out the gleam and sparkles of her new jewelry line. Finding the perfect placement for it, however, was another matter. Too much sun. Not enough sun. In the way. Too out of the way. The case hit the floor with a careful but weighty thump and Spike emerged from behind it, stretching a kink out of his back. He stood a smidge taller than the average stallion and had firmed up quite a bit from the adorably chubby wyrmling Rarity had once doted on. Still, the prodigious strength of a teenage dragon could only stretch so far. “Um, Rarity?” Spike dared. “Coco will be here any minute now, maybe you can think about this for a bit and I’ll help her bring in the dresses in the meantime?” “Right,” Rarity nodded, still fixated on searching for the perfect spot. “Good thinking. So sorry about that, Spikey-Wikey. The Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention is starting tomorrow, and there’s still so much left to do!” Right on cue, the Boutique’s front door chimed a happy welcome for Coco Pommel. “Good morning, everypony,” she beamed. “I’m here to help!” Eight hours later, Spike, Plaid, and Pistachio checked into their hotel and set down their bags. They had a two-bedroom, three-bed suite all to themselves, generously paid for by Rarity. Spike flopped face-first over the armrest of a plush loveseat. “Whew. I’m beat!” He barely reacted when a giggling Plaid Stripes sprawled out from the opposing side of the couch, draping her forelegs and head over his back. “I have been dreaming of a couch for hours!” “Hey there,” Spike said. “Comfy?” “Mhm. You’re warm.” “Well now,” Pistachio mumbled through the handle of a shopping bag. He set it down and seated himself on a plush floor cushion. “You two seem like you’re having fun.” Spike craned his neck up for a better look. “What’s in the bag?” Trying to roll over for a better look, Plaid tumbled off dragon and loveseat alike and landed back-first onto the outrageously thick rug. “I bet it’s booze!” she cheered. “Is it kobylka?” “Not quite.” Pistachio stuffed his snout into the fabric bag and came up with a square bottle of enticing amber liquid. Spike hoisted himself up into a more reasonable sitting position. “Jack Donkiels, huh? You can take the colt out of the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the colt.” Pistachio chuckled. “Sorry, Miss Stripes, no kobylka here. I didn’t think I’d be able to slip more than one bottle by, so I picked my favorite.” “Aww…” Plaid lamented. “Good thing I brought my own!” She bounced back up and rummaged through her luggage. She came back up with a red-capped bottle of Orloff-branded kobylka which she proceeded to cradle and nuzzle like a newborn kitten. “Daddy’s going to be a little mad when he finds out, but it’s nothing I can’t apologize for with a miniature copy of Princess Twilight’s throne. Remind me to find a good souvenir shop after the convention, would you?” Pistachio nodded. “I’ll try and rem—” “Oh!” Plaid interrupted while fumbling to unscrew the clear liquor’s cap. “And, Pistachio, you don’t have to call me Miss. Stripey is just fine from handsome boys like you two.” Spike gawked at the two bottles. “Both of you, really? Sheesh. There’s no way I could ever sneak booze past Twilight. I can barely snack on a few gems at night without a guard telling on me!” Pistachio popped the cork off of his bottle and took a deep, hooves-free swig before slamming it down on the coffee table and nickering energetically. “Whew! That’s a good burn! Help yourself, Spike, there’s plenty to go around.” Plaid Stripes took a seat next to Spike and leaned in between the two boys. “You boys can have some of mine too.” Spike drank from the whiskey bottle before passing it on and picking up the room service menu. “Snacks are on me, then! Who wants nachos?”
Bumblebunching"...and seven shtitches later,” Pistachio slurred, “I told myself it was the last time I ever made that rooster a vesht!" Spike and Plaid Stripes exchanged raucous laughter at the anecdote. Fellow hotel clients were likely bothered. Spike tossed a cheese-laden corn chip up and snapped it out of the air. “I’m so glad I decided to help Rarity with the Convention, you two are awesome!” “Aw! Thanks, Spike!” Plaid Stripes moved to draw a foreleg around Spike’s shoulders, only to stop in her tracks. “Oh! Oh! Speaking of sewing! You just gave me an idea, Pistachio!” She adjusted her mussed-up curly mane. “Stay put, I’ll be riiight back.” Being that she’d been draped upside down over the backrest of the loveseat, actually extricating herself took an awkward eternity. How she’d managed to get herself into that position was beyond the boys. Spike raised an eyebrow as she half-stumbled to her room. “Everything alright?” “Yep! Just a little tipsy. All good! Just hang on tight, there’s a little thing I’d like you boys’ thoughts on.” She disappeared into the room and pushed the door shut with her hindquarters. Pistachio tore his eyes off the closed door and inspected the half-full whiskey bottle. “Did you just see that too, or have I been hitting the bottle a little too hard?” Spike shrugged, took another swig of kobylka, and coughed. “Whoof. This is some strong stuff.” “Trade you,” Pistachio offered, pushing the whiskey bottle across the table. Spike took the offered drink and raised it. “To a successful convention tomorrow!” “I’ll drink to that.” Pistachio took the kobylka in return, lifting the bottle for a swig. Both were mid-drink as Plaid Stripes emerged from her room. “Tada! What do you think?” Pistachio’s drink sprayed across the room. Spike’s went up in a gout of flame. Their eyes locked onto Plaid as she sashayed into the room. Gone was the faux-fur-collared-vest-slash-cardigan she’d been wearing; in its place was sheer lace lingerie. The white garment framed her bottom just right, leaving ample space for her tail—and suggesting easy access to what hid beneath. Accompanied with matching knee-high socks and a lace choker, the outfit drew the eye to what it left visible more so than to what it covered. Pistachio blinked. “Uuuuuh…” Pistachio blinked again. A deep blush washed over him. “You look. It looks…um…it’s…” Pistachio shrank down and pulled his forehooves closer to his barrel. Closer to his sheath. Taking pity on the farmcolt, Plaid turned to Spike. The dragon had been stuck silent, barely holding on to the whiskey bottle in both hands; he’d barely caught it. She drank in his dumbstruck expression, then turned and posed coyly. “Do you like my latest design?” Spike nodded meekly. “How about the socks?” Plaid backed up closer to him and held up her rear right leg for him to admire. He nodded again. “How about… the back?” Still facing away, she planted her front against the carpet and flagged her tail as high as it would go. Looking back at him, she wiggled her butt for good measure. As expected, the lingerie left nothing to the imagination. Her mare bits were right in the open. Spike stared, mesmerized. Plaid looked down and smiled smugly. A hard, tapered reptilian cock stood defiantly between them. “Oh no!” Spike shook his head and snapped back to reality. He desperately tried to hide his erection; dragon claws or not, hiding an object of that size was no easy matter. Plaid Stripes whipped around. With eyes like dinner plates she leaned in to get a better view of the situation. Pistachio took inventory of the situation, drinking in both Plaid’s display and Spike’s situation. He felt tension building in his loins. As much as he wanted to hold it in, his member slowly emerged as well. “Spike.” Plaid looked the dragon right in the eyes. He wrapped his tail around himself to try and preserve his modesty. “... yes?” “I wanna suck your dick.” “Wh-what?” “I wanna. Suck. Your dick.” Spike stared, baffled. Plaid Stripes dived in. She began by swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock, then took just a little bit of his length between her lips. She teased and played with the dragon until he snapped to reality again. Spike melted into the loveseat as she continued her ministrations. “Ohh… Oh wow…” Encouraged by his reaction, Plaid moved closer and began exploring every angle of him. She bobbed her head up and down half of his cock. She rubbed it against the inside of her cheek. She worked her tongue around it. Pistachio looked on, flabbergasted, transfixed, flummoxed by the sight, sounds, and scent of oral sex. He held his hat near his crotch, obscuring himself from view. “Mm…” Plaid moaned around Spike. She pulled up for air, trailing a string of saliva between her tongue and his glans. She kept one hoof under his shaft, gently rubbing along his length. “So hot and thick... I'm going to have a lot of fun with you.” She caught Pistachio in the corner of her eye. “Oh! There I go again, getting all excited and forgetting someone.” Between two vulgar slurps, she lasciviously edged closer, lifted her tail, and presented her lace-framed rear. “Don’t be shy, Pistachio. Help yourself.” A hormone-driven bout of confidence gave new life to Pistachio. He smirked to himself and tossed his hat off to the side, leaving his mottled erection in full view. There would be time to be confused later. Had he not been entirely focused on the mare offering herself to him, he might have noticed Spike checking him out, just for a moment. Despite the dragon cock draped over her snout, Plaid Stripes stopped in her tracks when she felt Pistachio brush up against her rear legs. His warm breath sent a deep shiver coursing through her body. In response, Spike gently took hold of her head, and firmly pulled her back in. Plaid allowed herself to be handled. When Pistachio’s wet tongue made contact with her nethers, she gasped and was rewarded with another mouthful of dragon cock. She groaned and moaned through it as Pistachio began working her up. He gently teased her folds; suckled on her clit. He kissed and nibbled. He drank greedily of her juices. Her knees wobbled from the pleasure and she leaned into Spike’s crotch for support. His cock flopped out of her mouth and rested against her soft snout, dripping dollops of precum down the corner of her mouth. “Yessshh…” Plaid slurred. “Right there! Harder! Suck on my clit like it’s the last gumdrop in the bowl!” She nudged Spike’s hand with her hoof and set it against the back of her head. “Spikey-Wikey… Fuck my throat. Gimme that dragon fruit like I’m a horny possum!” The dragon’s eyes met hers. Plaid held his gaze, pleadingly, with the tip of his cock resting against her lips. Driven half by lust, and half by a desire to pause her stream of bizarre dirty talk, Spike pressed the mare into his crotch and buried his cock all the way down her throat. With what little clarity reached Plaid Stripes through the haze of bliss, she bobbed her head up and down his length. She ground her nethers against Pistachio’s tongue and face. She hungered for more, and the two boys were more than happy to provide. Eventually, she came up for air. Working Spike’s shaft with her forehooves, Plaid craned her neck to the side in hopes of catching sight of Pistachio. “Haaah!” She gasped. “More! Mount me! Plow me like your pecan fields!” Pistachio paused and blinked. Copious amounts of mare juices dripped down his chin. “Pecans…uh…pecans grow on trees?” Her tail slapped him in the chest. “Then make like a tree and fuck me!” Ever the gentlecolt, Pistachio wasn’t going to refuse a lady. He reared up and planted his forehooves on either side of her body before lining himself up. Spike took the opportunity to visually measure up his fellow male. He was pretty sure he had Pistachio beat on girth, but the stallion had nothing to be ashamed of. Plaid Stripes’s eyes grew wide as Pistachio’s flared cockhead pushed her back onto Spike’s shaft and spread her open. “Is that what you wanted, you horny little mare?” Spike teased while pulling her in deeper. Pistachio worked himself deeper inside her. He began with some gentle thrusts and slowly built up the pressure. “Ahh… Miss Stripes! Stripey! You’re so tight!” If Plaid had any objections to how the evening had turned out, she gave no sign of them. She found a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down Spike’s thick length and pushing back against Pistachio, but was soon thrown off when the stallion pushed just a little harder and fully hilted himself in her. She moaned loudly through the cock in her mouth, sending a pleasant jolt of vibrations through the dragon. Pistachio might not have had Spike’s prodigious girth, but it felt like it reached deeper than she’d ever felt before. It was like scratching an itch she’d never noticed before. She tapped at Spike’s hip for air, panting and groaning. “Mmmmph…. More!” “I don’t know what you just did to her, but it’s working.” Spike ran his claws through Plaid Stripes’s mane. “She’s…nnh…she’s going crazy.” Plaid winced as Pistachio pulled out slowly. Agonizing inch after agonizing inch left her feeling empty, only for Pistachio to thrust back into her until his testicles pressed against her body. Pistachio pushed his hips forward and forced her butt up for better leverage. “Just…mmmph…just giving her what she asked for.” He began building up a rhythm, basking in her tight warmth and the way she enthusiastically pushed back against him. “Yeeeesss…” Plaid hissed. “Just like that, keep going! Fuck me like a—” Spike hushed her by pushing her head back down his cock. “Shhh… There’s a good girl.” Plaid flashed him an innocent look before resuming her work. It wasn’t long before she found the flow of things once more. She let the boys take charge and reveled in the raw lust of being pounded from both ends. Spike held her in place, pulling her in when she slacked too much but making sure she didn’t hurt herself; Pistachio went at her like a finely-tuned sewing machine, fucking her in long, sharp strokes with almost mechanical precision. Spike’s cock twitched in her throat. “Nnghh! Haaah… Plaid, wait,” he gasped. “I’m… I’m gonna…” She pulled back but kept working his shaft with her hooves, aiming it right at her face.. “Mmmmnnnh, yes!—Pistachio! Harder!—Give me that dragon sauce! Make me your slut bucket!” Spike moaned loudly and threw his head back against the loveseat. Rope after rope of warm dragon cum splattered against the back of Plaid’s throat, coated her tongue, and dripped down her chin. Before she could swallow or savor it, Pistachio picked up his pace. A loud moan forced itself out of Plaid Stripes, spilling out even more of Spike’s semen. “Pistachio! Aaah! Pistachio! I swear I’m going to shove every needle in my sewing kit up your pisshole if you don’t keep going! Fuuuuuuck! I’m so close!” Pistachio clenched his eyes closed, desperately willing himself to keep going as long as he could while his thrusts grew more and more erratic. “Hnnnng… Miss— Stripey! I-I can’t hold it anymore! I’m cumming!” “Yes! Inside!” Plaid howled, pushed back against him, milked him for all he had. “Gimme that nut, just like your orchard!” Pistachio slammed in one last time, and both he and Plaid Stripes collapsed forward; her against Spike and the loveseat, and him on top of her. The room fell quiet; no sound save for the exhausted panting and the occasional pleased groan. Just two ponies and a dragon lying in a messy heap and basking in their afterglow. “So,” Spike said. “That happened.” Plaid Stripes giggled. “It sure did.” Pistachio’s eyes grew wide. “Wait. Stripey—Miss Stripes—Stripey. I just—You’re not—What if—” She draped her tail over his snout. “Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I had maiden tea this morning and I’m not in season. No risks.” Pistachio slumped back down and pushed her tail off. “Oh. Good. Okay.” Spike idly ran his claws through Plaid Stripes’s curly mane, still processing the frenzy they’d all just gone through. “So, what now?” “I don’t know about you boys,” Plaid replied. She licked some dragon cum off of her lips and stripped off the lingerie, “but I could really go for a shower, and I’d love some company.”
SprezzaturaThe Satin Pillow Mareiott Hotel took pride in offering its customers the finest amenities, and the shower was no exception to this. Designed after the pegasus tradition of raincloud showering, the bathroom offered an open-floor, ceiling-mounted shower. It could easily accommodate an amorous couple or, in a pinch, three horny teenagers. After an initial mishap—never trust a dragon to set the shower temperature—said teenagers hopped in. “Hope I didn’t push you too far out of your comfort zone there, Spike,” Plaid Stripes said. When Spike turned around, she looked away. She was just looking for the shampoo, of course. The shampoo that just happened to be at crotch height very close to the dragon. Nothing improper. Spike shrugged and continued to rinse off his torso. “You took me a little by surprise, but I’m not complaining. First time seeing a dragon cock, I’m guessing?” “Guilty as charged, and you should be proud of it. I can’t say I’ve had one that thick before either.” Spike turned to Pistachio, who was lathering his fetlocks with rapt attention. “Judging by the noises she made, I’d say you’re not lacking in that department yourself,” he teased. Pistachio blushed copiously. “I...uh…so I’ve been told.” “Spikey-Wikey,” Plaid Stripes singsonged. “Do you mind getting my tail?” She turned around and raised said tail, blatantly flashing Spike and Pistachio. “Sure thing,” Spike said. He took the shampoo from her and worked some into the thick curls of her tail, admiring her curves and nethers all the while. When images of other lather-building activities began surging through his mind, his cock came back to life. Plaid giggled. “Enjoying the view?” Spike snapped back to innocent shampooing, only to realize she hadn’t been speaking to him. Pistachio had just looked away, trying and failing to conceal his own erection. Judging by the not-so-furtive glance that followed, the stallion hadn’t been looking at Plaid Stripes, either. Spike cracked a smile and widened his stance. “Look all you want; I’ll take it as a compliment.” “I…um…okay.” Pistachio hesitantly turned back towards them. He studied Spike like a frightened squirrel looks at a lazy cat. “Say, Pistachio…” Plaid advanced on him lasciviously. She winked at Spike while her wet tail slowly slithered out of his claws. “Have you ever done it with another stallion before?” Pistachio avoided her gaze and shook his head. She leaned in very close to him and whispered in his ear. “Would you like to try it? I bet Spike would be happy to help you with that.” Pistachio’s cock twitched and he snuck another look at Spike. The dragon looked content to watch the scene play out while idly massaging his cock with one hand. Plaid Stripes draped a foreleg around Pistachio’s withers. “You want to know what it’s like to be the mare for a change, don’t you?” He avoided her eyes, but another twitch betrayed him. “...yes, please.” She gave him a little peck on the cheek, flicked her wet mane out of her face, and stepped back. “All yours, Spikey-Wikey.” Pistachio watched over his shoulder while Spike approached and kneeled behind him. At some point during the conversation, the dragon had retrieved a tube of clear liquid. “Try to relax, and let me know if it gets to be a bit much, okay?” The stallion nodded and closed his eyes. He tried not to brace too hard for what would come. Spike began by teasing Pistachio’s tailhole with one finger, rubbing slick, chilly lubricant around in little circles before gently pushing in. “Okay so far?” “Y-yeah…” Pistachio’s breath deepened. It was an odd feeling, like discovering a new body part. Plaid Stripes took the opportunity to move in and hog most of the warm shower. Laid down on the tile floor, she drank in the scene and gently teased her nethers with the tip of a hoof. “You’re doing great, Pistachio. Just focus on relaxing.” Spike worked in a second finger and pushed in further. Pistachio hissed at the feeling. It was a stretch, for sure, but not entirely unpleasant. While the dragon wiggled his fingers back and forth inside him, Pistachio wondered if this was how it felt for mares. He could get used to something like this. When Spike shifted again, Pistachio braced for a third finger but froze as Spike’s free hand instead wrapped itself around his cock and stroked it a few times. Spike leaned in closer and finally inserted a third claw. His serpentine tongue brushed against Pistachio’s sack, then teased its way down his erection. Pistachio felt Spike gently bend his cock backward and wrap his mouth around his flare, sucking and teasing while still working on loosening him up. He reminded himself to continue breathing deeply. His body wanted to forget even that to focus on the feelings alone. Spike’s free hand moved to his own cock and he gave himself a few pumps, working himself back to full mast while preparing Pistachio for the main event. “Mmm…” Plaid Stripes licked her lips and ground her clitoris against her hoof. “If you keep this up, he’s going to cum before you even put it in.” Spike withdrew his claws and, after bobbing his head up and down Pistachio’s length a few more times, stood up. “Yeah… I think he’s about ready.” Pistachio moaned softly as Spike pulled out and away. He suddenly felt so empty; so wanting. “So… You’re going to…” Spike gave his own cock a few more strokes while Pistachio watched in anticipation. It seemed a lot thicker and more daunting up close. “Fuck you?” “...Yes, that.” Spike approached and placed one hand on Pistachio’s lower back, near his tail. “Do you still want it?” “I…” Pistachio instinctively lowered his rear and flagged his tail. “Yes.” Spike picked up the lube off of the floor and squeezed a generous dollop out onto his cock. He smeared it up and down his length then slathered what remained in his palm under Pistachio’s tail, drawing a gasp from the stallion. “I’ll start slow. Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Pistachio hung his head low and closed his eyes. He took a deep and meditative breath. “Okay.” Spike took hold of Pistachio’s hip with one hand and squeezed his cutie mark. With the other, he lined himself up, then grabbed the base of Pistachio’s tail. Both of them clenched their eyes shut as Spike began pushing in. “Nnngh. You feel so huge.” Pistachio forcefully exhaled in hopes of forcing himself to relax through the tension and pain. When Spike hesitated, Pistachio pushed back against him. “K-keep going. I think I can take it.” “You sure?” Spike eased back a little then pressed on carefully. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Pistachio took another deep breath and nodded. “It’s alright. It feels—ngh—it feels a little weird but it doesn’t hurt too much.” Stripes had an unmistakable grin. At some point, she’d shifted her attention to rubbing further back under her tail. “Look at you, Pistachio! Taking it like a cute little farm slut! Give it to him, Spikey-Wikey!” Spike rolled his eyes with a little smile, then turned his attention back to Pistachio. To give him some time to adjust to his girth, he reached around for the stallion’s cock. When Spike began jacking him off, Pistachio let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His legs wobbled and his tongue lolled out. Thanks to that released tension, Spike was able to ease himself in deeper and deeper with little thrusts, until his hips met Pistachio’s. Plaid drank in the scene like a teenage colt going through his first dirty magazine. “Oh my gosh! He took the whole thing. That’s so hot!” “Nngh, you’re so big.” Pistachio thrust his hips, pumping his cock in Spike’s hand and humping against the dragon. With his other hand, Spike squeezed and massaged the stallion’s cutie mark. He progressively pulled himself out then, encouraged by the needy little whine this drew from Pistachio, thrust back in. A surprisingly feminine moan rang out from Pistachio. “That! Do that again!” “Don’t mind if—ngh—if I do.” Spike closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Pistachio’s barrel for better leverage. He focused on the feeling of the stallion’s warm, tight ass around his cock. Pistachio gasped, moaned, and panted as the dragon penetrated him over and over. The feeling was like nothing he’d ever known. Pain, pleasure, intensity. Spike’s pleasured groans danced in his ears like a hypnotic siren song. That was him; that was his ass giving the dragon such joy. He humped back against Spike hungrily. He wanted more. He wanted to give more. Before Pistachio knew what was happening, wet warmth enveloped his cock. His eyes flew open and found Plaid Stripes bent down, helping herself to his hanging erection. Between the dragon pounding him and Plaid’s sudden intrusion, Pistachio never stood a chance. He couldn’t get a coherent word out through the blissful haze and unloaded down the mare’s throat while thrusting wildly between his two partners. Spike took this as his cue to pick up the pace and give Pistachio everything he had. He fucked the stallion hard and deep and focused on his own pleasure. Pistachio didn’t need any more help. “Mhh…. Oh yeah, here it comes!” With the kind of vigor only a horny dragon can output, Spike hoisted Pistachio up like he weighed no more than a bushel of apples, held him by the hips, and bounced him up and down on his cock. With his rear legs spread wide open and his forehooves reaching back to Spike’s shoulders for balance, Pistachio rocked his hips back and forth while moaning loudly. The rest of his ejaculation sprayed through the air while his erection flailed wildly, painting Plaid Stripes and the shower alike. Knees wobbling under their combined weight, Spike slammed Pistachio down one last time and hilted himself in the stallion’s tailhole before filling him to the brim with dragon spunk until it overfilled and coated most of his rear. Spike managed to set Pistachio back down on his hooves before collapsing on all fours. His softening cock flopped out against the tile floor. “Horseapples, that was hot!” Plaid Stripes cheered. “Next time, Spikey, I want you to do that to me.” While the orgasmic fog slowly cleared from his mind, Pistachio found himself staring at the cum splattering the floor all around them. He felt even more leaking out of himself. Plaid Stripes, if anything, was even more cum-soaked as when they’d first walked into the shower. He sat down. His rear complained of soreness, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I think we’re going to need another shower.” “Yep…” Spike sagged lower down to the floor. The shower was still running. “...and we’ve used up all the hot water.”
Cross StitchSpike lay in bed, repeatedly skimming the same paragraph of the latest Daring Do, but never actually registering what it said. He occasionally nodded off, but the pleasant tones of Pistachio's old country record roused him each time. The stallion, Spike noticed, shared Applejack’s taste in music. Sitting on his own bed, Pistachio hummed along to Burning Blues’s A Colt Named Posey while crocheting a green scarf. After a brief—and cold—wash-up, Plaid Stripes had bid her suitemates farewell, claiming fatigue and a craving for warm blankets. It had been a wild and unexpected ride, but everything was back to normal. Until it wasn’t. Padded hoofsteps made their way into the room and a weight threw itself onto Spike’s bed, startling the dozing dragon. “Mind if I snuggle in? I’m suuuuuper cold after that stupid shower.” Plaid Stripes didn’t wait for an answer before tucking herself under the covers next to Spike. The dragon wiggled a little to the side to free up more space on the bed for her. “Heh, sure. Why not?” He returned his lack of focus to the book, which the mare took as an opportunity to huddle up against him. After Burning Blues finished crooning his way through Foalsom Farmhouse Blues and I Trot the Line, Pistachio set the scarf and his hat aside. Seeing that Spike had long ago given up on his book, the stallion turned off the lights. On his way back, he considered his options. One bed was spacious, comfortable, and empty. The other was cramped with one dragon and one mare. Pistachio went to the empty bed. He grabbed one of the pillows there and walked back to Spike and Plaid Stripes. “Mind scooching over a little?” Plaid Stripes squeezed her eyes shut harder and a mischievous smirk traced itself on her face. When she refused to move, Spike dragged her backward, surprised and flailing, to make room for Pistachio. Pistachio slid into bed and huddled against Plaid Stripes, across from Spike. “Thanks for a lovely night, you two.” “Right back at you,” Spike said while smoothing out the covers once more. Plaid Stripes cuddled herself deeper between the others. “Mmmm… You boys were hot.” All fell quiet, save for their breathing and the occasional sound of nightly passersby on the street below. Plaid Stripes shifted. Plaid Stripes shifted again. Plaid Stripes shifted some more. Spike did his best to ignore the mare grinding against his crotch. Plaid Stripes shifted one more time, then stopped. Outside, a carriage rolled by. A few moments later, galloping hoofsteps followed. Pistachio shifted a little. “Awfully bold of you, Miss Stripes.” Plaid Stripes giggled. “Wasn’t my hoof! Must have been Spike.” “I don’t have hooves,” Spike sleepily mumbled. “Fine, fine.” Plaid drew her sneaky hoof back to her chest. Pistachio tucked his head down and whispered in her ear. “I didn’t say stop.” With a surprised little smile, she scooched closer and felt for his sheath with her lower body. After a little more grinding than strictly necessary, she reached for his sheath and alternated between gentle hoof strokes and dry humping against his hardening length until it stood at full mast. Lost in the intoxicating smell of lavender shampoo and aroused mare, Pistachio groaned and gasped softly at her touch. His chin came to rest atop her snout. It wasn’t long before Spike, tempted by the nearby festivities, pulled closer to Plaid Stripes. His hardening cock came to rest against her rump. He ran his hands down her sides and stopped along the way to squeeze and knead her hindquarters, but stopped abruptly when his middle claw clinked against something hard. Confused, he felt out the texture of it. It was a gem, for sure, but what was it doing there? Spike investigated the curious object, carefully running a few digits down Plaid’s crack to get a better feel for it. Plaid Stripes kept her focus on Pistachio but her tail softly lashing at Spike’s chest gave her excitement away. When Spike found he could easily slip his claws between the object and her rump, he tugged on it. Plaid flushed red and whimpered softly. A mischievous grin traced itself on Spike’s face. “Hey, Pistachio, wanna see something hot?” Pistachio raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” Plaid locked up when Spike tugged harder. Her hoof stopped against Pistachio’s scrotum and she winced as the object popped out of her. Spike held up a silvery metallic buttplug capped with a fairly large violet gemstone. The business end of the plug, respectably thick but nothing compared to either of Spike or Pistachio’s measurements, glistened in the moonlight. Pistachio’s eyes went wide at the sight, and doubly so when Plaid Stripes decided to stuff half of his cock down her throat instead of explaining. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” Spike teased while tossing the plug aside. With Plaid laid on her stomach and her head across Pistachio’s crotch while sucking the life out of him, Spike could easily access her rear. “Don’t worry,” Spike said while tapping two fingers against her tight little pucker. “I know how to take a clue.” Thanking his good fortune that he’d set the lubricant on the bedside table and forgotten it there, Spike squirted some down Plaid’s crack and massaged it into her tailhole. Her tail flailed wildly at the intrusion, knocking the lubricant off the bed and onto the dark floor. “Are you planning what I think you’re planning?” Pistachio asked without taking his eyes off of the mare bobbing her head up and down his length with her eyes squeezed close. “If it fits. Definitely gonna need more lube and… Oh, dangit, where’d it go?” Plaid pulled off Pistachio’s cock. “I know where you can get all the lube you need.” She reached behind her back legs and lined Spike’s cock against her lower lips, then impaled herself down in one excited stroke. Her eyes bulged at the feeling and she pulled back up a little before slowly settling down again. “Oof! You’re a big boy, Spike.” She was wet. Drenched, even. Only a few thrusts were more than enough to get Spike’s shaft coated in enough natural lubricant to fix every creaky hinge in the hotel. Pistachio craned his neck for a better look at the action and stroked his cock while he watched. Plaid felt Spike’s weight shift on the bed behind her. She felt him kneel between her legs and press his cock to her anus. “Wait,” she said. “Not like that. I want to ride you.” Spike gave her butt a playful slap and plonked himself down on his back. His cock stood straight up, like a slippery monument to draconic lust. After kissing Pistachio’s flare for good luck, Plaid positioned herself facing away from Spike, which gave him a perfect underside view of her nethers. Careful not to lose her balance, she lined his erection up with her tailhole and carefully sank onto it. She exhaled forcefully as its tapered tip stretched her open. Spike cupped his claws around her butt to help guide her down. “Mmm… That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Is that why you had that plug in, you naughty mare?” Plaid wiggled up and down, repeatedly easing off before pushing just a little more. “Ooohhh… Yes… It hurts, but it hurts good…” Pistachio, not content with just watching and jacking off, dragged himself in front of Plaid’s exposed nethers. He admired the sight of Spike’s thick cock halfway lodged up her ass for a moment before leaning in and planting a kiss on her inner thigh. “Nhh… Well hi there, farmboy. What are you do-oooh. Oooh!” Before Plaid knew what hit her, Pistachio had run his tongue across her slit and circled it around her clitoris. The feeling threw her off-balance and she slid further down Spike’s cock. Spike caught her before she could hurt herself. Between the incredible tightness around his member and the delicious squishiness of her rump in his hands, it was taking all of his willpower to give her time to adjust. All the dirty talk in the world was caught in Plaid Stripes’ throat. When Pistachio gently pushed her all the way onto Spike while suckling on her clitoris, the only sounds she could make were breathy little moans. Pistachio smooched his way back up from her nethers to her chin, before sitting up to admire her predicament. “I’ll say, Miss Stripes, looks to me like you take it like a cute little farm slut too.” Spike slapped a hand against his mouth to keep from laughing, while Plaid dug for some spark of sass within herself; she found just enough to pull her lolled-out tongue back in her mouth and stick it back out at him. “Is—hnnggh—is that so?” She wiggled around with Spike still deep inside her. She’d be sore in the morning, but it would be so worth it. “And what does a cute stallion like you do to those little farm sluts? Will you show me?” Pistachio cracked a wily grin and hopped out of bed. “Sure thing, Stripey, but you’ll need to hang on a moment. We’ll have to make you into a proper farm filly first. Lay back and let Spike take care of you.” Spike slid his hands up from her butt to her sides and coaxed her backward until her back rested against his chest. “Ready for me?” Spike asked, resting his chin around her shoulder. Plaid wiggled a little. There wasn’t much she could do in this position, but she was fine with it. “Mhm.” Spike began with shallow thrusts. He barely pulled out half an inch before hilting himself back in. Pistachio climbed back onto the bed with his discarded hat in his teeth and a throbbing erection still hanging under him. He stood over the two. His cock came to rest against Plaid Stripes’s stomach while he leaned down to place his hat snugly onto her head. “There, now you’re a proper little farm slut.” While Spike eased halfway out of her, Pistachio slid his shaft back and forth against her slick marehood. “Still want to see what I do to my favorite little farm sluts?” Plaid was lost for words, so she nodded enthusiastically while sinking back down onto Spike’s cock. “Stay still for a second.” Pistachio thrust against Plaid’s crotch a few times, and eventually found her entrance. He effortlessly penetrated her all the way down to his medial ring. Plaid threw her head back just short of headbutting the dragon in the chin. “Oooohhhhhyesyesyesyesyes!” Spike shivered at the feeling of Pistachio’s cock pressing Plaid’s walls against him. “Oh wow, I can feel you through her!” “Nnh… Me too…” Pistachio pushed in deeper while Plaid Stripes humped ravenously between him and Spike. She wrapped her rear legs around the stallion for support and pulled him all the way in while sliding off most of Spike’s member. “Mmhhhh… So full… Is it my birthday?” “I don’t know,” Spike replied, “but I’ve got a big gift just for you.” He pulled Plaid back down until her rear met his hips, which drew a moan from her and a groan from Pistachio. Not to be outdone, Pistachio pushed back in until both of their cocks were fully hilted in Plaid’s holes. The mare shook from the intense stimulation; her eyes were squeezed close and her tongue stuck out limply. Her mane had long come undone and hung in tangles all over her shoulders and face. “Mm… that’s a good little farm slut,” Pistachio murmured. He began thrusting in earnest and fucking her nice, deep, and slow. He pushed far past full penetration, driving Plaid Stripes up and down Spike’s cock. The dragon followed his lead, guiding her hips back and forth and driving her all the way onto him. Rocked back and forth between the two stallions she’d spent the entire evening riling up, Plaid Stripes could do nothing but hang on to Pistachio for dear life and scream her excitement for the world to hear. Sometimes they would enter her alternately with one strong thrust following the other such that she never had a chance to relax. Sometimes they were in sync, penetrating her at once and making her head swim from the incredible fullness. Sometimes she felt one of them pause while the other picked up the slack, relaying to keep her lost in pleasure for as long as possible. All the while, the boys exchanged sultry, complicit looks like strange bedfellows on the battlefield of lust. The raucous bout went on for what felt like an eternity. Spike and Pistachio’s ears were ringing from Plaid’s unending howls, but it was only a few minutes before a body-wracking series of orgasms seized the mare. She slammed down on Spike and pulled Pistachio all the way in before working her hips up and down as fast as she could. Her juices squirted all over Pistachio’s cock and dribbled generously onto the dragon. Her fireworks of a climax set the others off like cherry bombs. They thrust into her again and again, trying and failing to keep in with her erratic rhythm. Spike and Pistachio came deep inside her one after the other with a rising crescendo of grunts and moans. They gave her as much as she could take, and then a lot more, until their cum pooled out alongside hers. For the third time that evening, the three collapsed into a panting and gasping pile of exhaustion to bask in the afterglow. “Mmmmmmmmmmmm… That was amazing. I really needed something like that.” Plaid Stripes smooched both boys on the cheek. For all response, Spike gave her butt a little squeeze, pulled her closer against his chest, and closed his eyes. Pistachio followed suit and edged closer until he could push his hat off Plaid’s head and replace it with his chin. He draped a foreleg across her shoulders. “The lingerie’s lovely, by the way. Good night, little farm slut.” Plaid yawned and snuggled between the two. Then, her eyes flew wide open. “...Guys?” “Mhm? “...There’s a huge puddle on the bed and I’m right in it.” Spike and Pistachio both cringed. “Gross.” Pistachio said. None of them wanted to get up now, but… “You know,” Spike said, “...the other bed is nice, fresh, and right there.”
