Camp Colt

There was already a loud chattering of fillies and colts as everypony filed out of their respective cabins towards the centre of the camp—Kettle Corn hurried down the steps, almost tripping over her hooves as she joined the others as they lined up outside the cabins in front of the flagpole. “S-Sorry, sorry—” she squeaked, muttering over and over again as she squeezed through the small crowd and slotted in beside Poppy Seed and Sweet Pop.

Her tail was still twitching uncomfortably—maybe even more so as her heart raced and she panted, wobbling on both hooves between the tightly-packed row of filly and colt bodies. Just a few steps to her right, on the other side of Sweet Pop, she could see Skeedaddle in the line, almost close enough that she could smell him.

“Well, you took your time,” she heard somepony whisper in her ear and Kettle Corn snapped back to attention, pulling her eyes away from the colt that she was supposed to... f-f-fuck.

“Relax,” the filly beside her whispered—Kettle Corn glanced to her side to see Sweet Pop looking at her with a knowing smirk. Her cheeks were tinged only slightly red, the pigmentation slowly fading under the bright light of the mid-day sun. Kettle Corn realised she’d been blushing herself and she puffed out her cheeks, turning away from Poppy to focus ahead—

Across the camp, she saw the office doors open and two of the camp masters emerge, one holding a clipboard and quill—A peach filly she recognised as Apple Bloom, and the other was Sweetie Belle, dressed up in a sea-green scoutmaster uniform.

“Listen, here’s the plan—When they announce the start of the event, I’m going to try to get you paired up with Skeedaddle, okay?” Kettle Corn’s fur prickled as she felt the hot breath of Poppy Seed in her ear—her tail twitched, but remained clamped tightly over her flank. She ignored Poppy Seed all she could as she watched the two camp masters approach the flag pole.

Upon reaching the row of foals, the camp masters—Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked over them as they stood beside the flag pole. The former was quiet and with a stern look, whilst the latter glanced between them with a slight frown.

Now that they were a lot closer, Kettle Corn could tell there was something not quite right. Sweetie looked oddly flustered. Not only did she have a kink in her step, but her mane was a tousle with a- pair of scissors sticking out of the top where somepony had very clearly been trying to cut something out of it. Beneath the uniform, which she now realised looked slightly tattered, her coat was covered in little white specks and blotches. Kettle could only assume it was glue.

As Sweetie passed in front of her part of line, the camp master stopped suddenly, shooting Kettle Corn a sideways glance—and Kettle immediately stiffened, averting her gaze to the ground. “S-Sorry,” she squeaked.

Sweetie’s nostrils flared. She didn’t say very much, but she did huff as she returned to cantering back to the flagpole—Sweetie’s tail flagging momentarily as she spun back around to address the row of fillies and colts. “Alright, Everypony,” she said, “We were going to start with archery as your first event today, but due to some unforeseen circumstances—” She was interrupted by a snicker and paused to fire a glancing dagger at Apple Bloom, who promptly bit her lip and shut her mouth. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to cancel today’s archery event.”

At the sound of the words ‘cancelled’, a collective groan rolled out from across the line. Kettle Corn, for her part, let out a sigh of relief and her entire body relaxing on the spot. Thank Celestia. Maybe this means she wasn’t going to have to—

Sweetie Belle continued: “Instead, we are going to be doing canoeing!”

“We’re going to need each of you to break off into groups of two,” Apple Bloom stepped forward to interject. She tapped at her clipboard with the top of her quill as she sounded off the groups. “Kettle Corn, you’re going to be with Poppy Seed, and Sweet Pop, you’re with Skeedaddle.”

Kettle Corn’s ears pricked up at the words. A wide grin spread across Poppy Seed’s face beside her and her stomach began to drop as the filly turned to look at her, waggling her eyebrows as she nudged Kettle in the side.

“Oh, oh no...” She shook her head, whispering under her breath. Her whole body was trembling as she struggled to contain herself and stand in line. “No way—” Kettle Corn shook her head, looking at Poppy Seed in the eye—No way she could be— “You can’t possibly be thinking—”

“Oh yeah,” Poppy Seed cut her off with a whisper, giving Kettle that same sly grin that she was quickly learning to regret. Poppy Seed immediately turned away from her and shot her hoof into the air shouting, “Oh, Miss Sweetie belle!

Kettle gasped as her hoof was grabbed from her side and yanked upwards, just about pulling her upright as Poppy Seed waved it in the air for her.

“Kettle wants to be with Skeedaddle!”

The colt in question’s ears perked up and Kettle glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye, blushed, and averted her face. “What was that?” She just about heard him whisper, presumably to the colt on his other side. Sweet Celestia why—Why, do you have to do this to me, Poppy. It was already bad enough that she had to deal with this Luna damned heat, now she had put her on the spot in front of Everypony, right as she—Her legs trembled slightly as a twinge of arousal flushed through her.

Her cheeks were already burning as bright as the sun, but now as her scent wafted to her nose for the first time that day, Kettle became distinctly aware that everypony probably, no, definitely could smell her too.

Poppy Seed continued regardless, either unaware of, or intentionally because of, Kettle Corn’s discomfort. She grabbed the camp masters’ attention. “Can she swap with Sweet Pop?”

Sweetie belle glanced between the two of them, not even batting an eyelid as looked Kettle in the eye and the to the colt on the other side. She could have sworn she saw Sweetie’s nose scrunch—Was that her thinking face, or did she know? Kettle could feel the blush in her cheeks spreading to other places as the moment dragged on and Sweetie’s lips began to curl as she considered the swap.

“P-Poppy...” Kettle Corn whispered. She began to fidget, feeling the moisture between her legs start to drip—she was certain she felt a familiar tension under her tail as the muscles twitched to accommodate the unusual pose. She was unable to get her hoof back under her, and something about being made the centre of attention, with all the eyes in the camp trained on her, even if it was all in her mind, was causing her heart to race, and her breathing to get hot. “P-Poppy,” she repeated, more hastily this time as she felt Skeedaddle’s eyes graze the back of her head.

“Shhhh...” Poppy hushed her. “Trust me, this is going to work.”

Kettle Corn’s stomach fluttered as she felt the tension building inside. Her ears flipped down as she looked around them anxiously. “Th-That’s what I’m afraid of...” she breathed.

Apple Bloom took her sweet time to blink and look over her clipboard.

She turned one of the pages and confirmed something with her quill before sharing a look with Sweetie Belle—They giggled together and were both blushing slightly when they looked back up with thin smiles, eyes specifically trained on Kettle Corn.

“Ah don’t see why not,” Apple Bloom said with a smirk. Anything more but a wink would have Kettle think they knew something she didn’t.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “So long as Sweet Pop is okay with it, I suppose it’ll be fine.”

Kettle Corn’s eyes widened. W-Wait—They were actually going along with this!? She whipped her head around, begging with eyes, towards Sweet Pop, but was left little options as the filly had already been listening and picked up quickly on the plan.

With eyes clearly trained on Kettle Corn as she spoke, Sweet Pop sung in an almost sing-song voice:
“I’d be happy to!” she said.

Kettle Corn was shoved sideways without warning, and then flipped around back into the line as Sweet Pop swapped places with her—there was only the sound of giggling and Poppy’s voice in her ear as she found herself in her new spot, with two fillies giggling like school foals to her left, and on her right—

Kettle’s heart stopped as she realised where she was—Standing right in front of her, staring with wide eyes, was a familiar blue unicorn colt. Seeing him up close for the first time, Kettle Corn could properly get a view of his entire flame.

Slender and tall, he stood just about a half an inch over her head with a messy mop of a mane and tail, but above all else, he was staring at her.

Behind her, Kettle heard her roommates cackling: “Have fun, you two~” Poppy Seed teased.

Almost immediately, Kettle’s blush returned in full force and she averted her gaze.

Skeedaddle raised his hoof in greetings, though. “Um...” he said, “Hi?”

~ ~ ~

The lake was calm, almost like a mirror as it reflected the midday sun. There was a gentle lapping of water and the clock-like rhythm of the waves as the oars dipped and pushed, propelling them little by little through the open expanse.

Kettle Corn was sitting at the head of the boat, facing inwards, whilst Skeedaddle was facing away from her as he focused on moving the oars with his magic.

Between the two of them they’d quickly decided that Skeedaddle would be doing the rowing whilst she kept a lookout for other campers—not that they had any chance of running into any ot them. The lake was large enough that they could be rowing for hours and not come within earshot of another group.

It was just the two of them.

With nothing to do.

Alone.

Kettle Corn grimaced, a cramp running up her lower abdomen. She held onto the oar with her left foreleg as she pressed the tip of her right hoof against her stomach, trying to avoid her sensitive teats as she applied pressure to the afflicted zone. The cramp lasted for a few seconds, before finally subsiding and she let out her breath.

At the very least one advantage of the open air and sea breeze through her mane was that they hopefully didn’t have to put up with the smell. Both Skeedaddle, and her—Just the tiniest whiff of Skeedaddle’s sweat catching her nostrils was enough to cause her symptoms to flare.

“So, uhm...” her ears perked as Skeedaddle glanced over his shoulder, giving Kettle a concerned look. He spoke between swings of the oars, the splashing of the waves punctuating the silence. “What is wrong with you anyway?” Splash. “Are you sick?”
Kettle frowned—A tint tinge of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. Her mom had told her never to talk about this stuff with a stall—Er, colt in this case, but she hadn’t had any luck talking to other fillies, and it wasn’t like she even had a choice now.

“C-Can you keep a secret?” she asked. That should be enough to ensure he doesn’t go blabbing to his geldmates, at least.

Surprisingly, Skeedaddle took that relatively seriously. He stopped rowing immediately, the oars wobbling as they rested against the sides of the boat, just on the precipice of falling off, and he turned around on the spot to face her, the look of concern now more clearly visible as Skeedaddle gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Of course,” he said.

No conditions. No stipulations. Just acceptance.

It was refreshing.

Kettle Corn exhaled, releasing a little of the tension she’d been holding. “You promise?” she checked.

“Yes. What is it?”

“I—” Kettle Corn inhaled as she shifted on her seat. The wood of the boat was rough, and while at first it was a relief to sit on something cool and hard, as the minutes had grown on and it had slowly grown moist. Even this was feeling a little too comfortable for her liking. “I’m... In heat,” she whispered.

She squeezed eyes shut and winced, fully in anticipation for the incoming barrage of questions—or worse—teasing to come her way.

But then nothing happened.

Skeedaddle tilted his head, looking at her in confusion. There was the bumping of wood as something slipped under the water, but otherwise silence. “What’s what?” he said.

At this, Kettle almost did a double-take. “W-Wait, you don’t know?”

“H-Heat as in temperature?” he asked.

“No, no—” Kettle Corn shook her head—blushing at the absurdity—She almost wanted to slap him it was such a—“I-It means I’m in estrus.”

“Estrust?”

“Estrus,” she corrected. “I—It means I have to...” Kettle stopped herself, suddenly realising what she was about to say, and to a colt no less. “I-I mean, it doesn’t matter...”

“I—I heard about that,” Skeedaddle said. He scooted closer to her, blushing slightly as he looked down at Kettle Corn’s body. She hadn’t realised it until now, but from where he was sitting, she could tell Skeedaddle had a full view of her teats. She wanted to hide herself from him, even making a move to clench her thighs together, but something made her pause as her eyes were drawn instinctively to his lap where the tip of his... It was starting to peek out.

She was blushing furiously, as was he.

Skeedaddle swallowed, inching closer to her again. The splashing of the waves caught her attention as something slid off the side of the boat. The tiny plap splashed a few droplets onto her cheeks as something dipped below the surface.

“It means you...” Skeedaddle started, pausing as he inhaled her scent. Kettle Corn was reminded she was probably smelling pretty intense by now—her tail flicked, and she licked her lips, picking up the scent of the colt next to her in turn. “...have to be with a colt, right?”

Their lips were almost an inch apart. Kettle’s heart was pounding. “Y-” Her throat was dry. She put up a hoof to hold him back, to try and refrain herself from going any further. “Yeah,” she said.

Kettle Corn’s eyes flicked behind her to the coast and then back to the colt beside her, her heart racing—she jumped out of her seat.

Their lips smacked together as Kettle Corn threw herself against the colt in front of her, pressing her face against his and moaning into his lips. “Hmmmmmmf....!”

He squeaked and threw up his hooves but put-up little resistance against her as she breathed into his mouth—their breaths intermingling as the air between them grew hot. “Mmms! K-Kettle—”

The whole boat shook and tipped and the two of them tumbled backwards into the middle of the boat with kettle Corn straddling atop him—Her tail flicked as high as it would go as she refused to let go of him. What was this sensation? Her heart was racing and sweat was beading her body—she felt like she was about to explode.

The way Skeedaddle smelled—tasted—She breathed it in, inhaling the gentle berry smell as she pressed her lips against his—She could feel his shaft starting to bulge against her teats as their bellies pressed against each other, causing her to squeak and hum, moaning gently into the deepening kiss. “Hmmmh...” she begged, their lips separating a moment for her to gasp. “P-Please...”

She separated, leaning on her haunches—Skeedaddle watched with wide eyes from below as she arched her back, pressing her hips against his, the slowly hardening colt bits tucked neatly under her between her teats—“Skeedaddle—” Kettle Gasped, separately, neighing as her tail flicked upwards for him. “F-Fuck me, please. I can’t take this heat anymore.”

“K-Kettle—” Skeedaddle stared up at her like a deer in the headlights, his face flushed red and his chest rising and falling as her panted. “I—I’ve never—”

Kettle Corn silenced him with a kiss and used her body weight to flip them over. The boat rocked and the lake splashed around them, tossing water over the edges. Kettle lay back with her coat damp from the water—the cooling feeling a welcome sensation as she stared up at the colt on top of her. “J-Just do it, please...” She hinted towards him with a nudge of her hips, causing his penis to bob up against the underside of his barrel.

From the angle they were on, there was no way she could get it in by herself. She needed help and Kettle none-too-subtly suggested what to do by the motions of her hips, whining as she did so. “C-Come ooon,” she begged.

Skeedaddle blinked, just then realising what he had to do, though still moving with a slightly unsureness about him. He acted like he was about to break as he pressed his body against hers—his hips pushing Kettle’s legs up into the air and onto either side of his flanks, the slight rise and arch to her back only serving to coil the tension in her lower half even further.

Kettle mewled, and Skeedaddle almost froze in place, his eyes glancing to hers with a look of concern. “K-Keep going...” Kettle whispered.

Skeedaddle swallowed, then with a furrow his brow, looking back down at the task at hoof—Something about being on full display, at the mercy of a colt she’d only just met was making Kettle Corn’s heart race—Her lips trembled as something poked out at the base and Skeedaddle’s eyes widened.

“Wh-Woah...” he said.

“H-Hurry up!” Kettle Corn whined.

“Oh-Okay!”

Skeedaddle nodded, jolting back into action. He paused for another excruciating second as he fumbled to grab onto his colt bits and struggled to align them with her opening. The tip slipped and pressed against her lips, making Kettle Corn suck in a breath of air.

A jolt of pleasure arced through her spine, and she trembled. If just a taste of it was this good, she couldn’t wait to have the rest of him—The moment Skeedaddle’s tip aligned with her entrance, Kettle Corn pressed her hips back, hilting him to the medial ring.

“Oh—Ooohhh~”

They moaned in unison. Skeedaddle tensed up and her whole body trembled as Kettle Corn’s entrance stretched open in a whole myriad of ways she hadn’t thought it could. The feeling of him being inside her, of being so full was like and explosion of sensations she couldn’t put into words. Instead, she moaned a guttural, lusty howl.

“Uuueueuuueue...” as the first, tiny orgasm rocked through her small underage body.

Skeedaddle was taken by surprise as a tiny spurt of clear fluid squirted out all over Skeedaddle, soaking their fur even further. “Oh—O-Do I...?” He looked back up at her, seeking guidance.

Kettle Corn simply squeezed her eyes shut—It wasn’t enough. She needed more. “K-Keep going,” she said.

Skeedaddle swallowed, and still with her eyes closed, she felt him change position. At first, she feared her might be pulling out, but when she felt Skeedaddle’s hooves on either side of her body, she was welcomed with the ecstatic bliss as her slowly, shakily, started to press deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper.

“Aaah...”

The gasp escaped her lips as she focused on the sensation—her legs twitched, the muscle firing on their own with every new jolt of pleasure that went through her. She could feel herself being moved backwards as her fur brushed across the boards of the canoe.

Almost on instinct her legs went around his thighs, grasping onto them for purchase as she tried to hold on—There was s growing pressure inside her as the tip finally bottomed out, and Kettle’s legs twitched—no, her entire lower body started to shake as the warmth from her crotch started to spread out to the surrounding areas.

“Ah—” She heard somepony pant—It wasn’t her, it sounded like. “I—I think it’s in...” Skeedaddle said.

Kettle frowned and her ears drooped. She almost didn’t want it to end, so she couldn’t let it end. Not yet.

As she panted, she could barely make out the words as she said, “K-Keep going—A-Again. F-Faster.”

Skeedaddle started a slow retreat—Kettle couldn’t help but peek, looking down between them as his shaft slowly emerged from within her in reverse. The first inch, second inch, the medial ring caught on her lips causing her breathing to hitch, then another two inches—Her eyes widened with every inch.

Was that really all inside her?

He reached the tip and Kettle Corn pulled a deep breath, biting her lips as she braced herself fro the next part.

She saw Skeedaddle clench his teeth, but he wouldn’t stop looking into her eyes as he pressed forward. Faster than before, the whole shaft slid elegantly inside of her, pushing deeper and separating her fold with ease.

There was a slight plap as his balls slapped against her underside and Kettle Corn squeaked. Her whole body jumped at the contact—a jolt of excitement running through her. Again, Skeedaddle pulled back before slamming into her and causing her whole body to shudder. “Ah-Aaahaa—”

Kettle Corn’s lips clenched around the base of his shaft and the bud, she could see was a pink bit of flesh, winked against the veiny appendage, leaking dribbles of her fluid along his length as he pulled back.

Again. Slap “Ahhaahh...” She trembled, biting her lip, and whispered. “H-Harder...”

Skeedaddle was sweating at this point and had to bite his lip as he pulled back—his entire body trembling with what Kettle could only presume was the same thing she was going through. She repeated when he hilted inside her, causing the whole boat to shake. “H-Harder.”

He pulled back again and slammed into her. A sudden pressure sent jolts of pleasure and pain through Kettle Corn’s body as he tapped her inner-most entrance. The boat shuddered and the water splashed around them as the canoe jittered along the surface. “H-Harder!” she demanded.

Skeedaddle huffed. He adjusted his footing on either side of her—a loud huff as he flared his nostrils over her and grit his teeth. Skeedaddle arched his back and bore his weight down on her, pressing Kettle Corn’s back into the hard at the bottom of the canoe as he put everything had into it.

“Hiyaaaa!”

KER-SLAM

“AHH...! F-Fuu—” Kettle Corn moaned as his hips slammed into her, pushing her back an inch with the force. The tip of his cock bottomed out with the medial ring embedded to the hilt—and in one fell swoop, the tremors barely had a moment to settle across her belly before he was at it again—The next slam rocked the boat even further as he proceeded to fuck her with abandon.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP

Every thrust pushed her body back slightly further, edging her towards the point of no return, scooting along the length of the canoe as the water splashed around them. Kettle Corn felt her head press into something hard as she finally settled against the supports for one of the boat’s seats—then Skeedaddle’s cock started properly ramming into her.

Now with the right purchase—she started to shake and gasp for breath, moaning in a rhythmic beat against the wet slapping of Skeedaddle’s hips against her rump. “Ahha—aha—F-Fuck—” She moaned and panted, giving out little squeaks as the jolts of pleasure made her muscles twitch and spasm. “Yes—Fuck—harder, hard, hard, please...”

Her hooves tightened around his back, and Skeedaddle, following orders, redoubled his efforts. At this point neither of them cared about who was watching or heard. The boat was shaking and rocking with every trust and Kettle felt the tensions deep inside her growing and coiling, building to some sort of release with every inward thrust.

Her clit was winking over and over again, her tongue rolling out of her mouth as she panted and heaved, her chest pressed against his and water pooling behind her head as she held onto the colt fucking her for dear life.

“Ah-Aaaah...” Skeedaddle and Kettle’s moans mingled into one as the moment drew longer, inch by inch punctuated by the slapping of his balls against her but and the splashing of water and filly’s squeaks.

Skeedaddle huffed, his nostril flaring—He paused between thrusts to grunt out. “K-Kettle—Something’s—” He was struggling to speak. Kettle merely held on, gyrating her hips to keep up his thrusts, to get that angle, the one spot with the itch she simply couldn’t reach. “Something’s happening—” she heard him whisper in her ear as his head dipped close to her own.

“D-Don’t stop,” she huffed. “I’m almost—”

“I don’t think I can!” Skeedaddle moaned over her words as he hilted in her one last time—A pulse ran through his shaft as his belly connected with hers and Skeedaddle’s legs locked into place.

There was a sudden pressure inside her and then a warmth—like a kind of instant relief poured out into her.

Kettle Corn moaned, practically screaming. “Aaaaaaaa—aaaaahhhhh....” The tremors in her body turned into a veritable earthquake as the dam finally broke and her orgasm hit her—The whole world flashed white and her own legs locked, holding Skeedaddle against her—No pulling out, as his own orgasm rocked through him and pulse after pulse of a pleasure was pushed deep inside her.

The last thing she remembered was breathing out as her eyes crossed—flashes of light sparking in the darkness as her head rolled back onto the floorboards.

~ ~ ~

Kettle Corn woke up in a sticky sweat. Her muscles were aching, but the moment she came to she realised something...She inhaled, breathing in the fresh ocean breeze. Her mind was clear. She wasn’t hot and itchy. She didn’t have any discomfort in her... other areas.

It almost felt like her heat was gone...

Looking to her side, she saw Skeedaddle lying on the boards of the canoe at her side in a delirious daze. There was a wobbly smile painted across his face as he looked at her with a dreamy haze. “H-Hey...” he said, swallowing, “That was.. amazing...”

Her heat was still racing, and looking down she saw the trail of white leading from between her legs to the tip of his softening shaft.

The first thought that occurred to her was:

“Y-Yeah...” she breathed. “That was amazing...”

The second thought that occurred to her was:

She looked around them, noticing something was missing.

“Where are the paddles?”