Double Needle

Spike 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.”