Opposites Attract

Trotting down the central boulevard of Canterlot, keenly aware of all the townsponies giving her an an exceptionally wide berth, Tempest kept her eyes on the castle. It wasn’t the first time she’d been summoned to give counsel on matters, nor would it be the last, yet the reaction from the bustling city’s residents was and would likely always be the same. She’d nearly defeated the quartet of Princesses singlehoofedly, she’d tracked down the Elements of Harmony, and though she’d eventually made amends and helped defeat the Storm King, her former employer and would-be conqueror of Equestria, she was still viewed as a villain by many.

She glanced to the guards as she moved through the main gate of the keep, giving the most subtle of acknowledgements to them. The praetorians had become much more disciplined over the last year or so, ever since she’d suggested a number of improvements to their training, so she doubted the capital would suffer another disastrous incursion anytime soon - still, there was always room for improvement. Moving into the castle proper, through the courtyard and into the foyer, she slowed when she noticed something out of place.

Standing to one side of the great hall’s doors lingered a royal guard that stuck out like a sore hoof. Tall and with far too little meat on his bones, covered in aquamarine fur which violently clashed with his blonde mane and tail, the lanky pegasus reached back with a wing to scratch his tush. It would have been bad enough if the praetorian simply looked unimpressive, but his actions were so much worse than his aesthetic.

For starters, the pegasus’ posture was abysmal, slouched while leaning against a pillar - secondly and more gallingly, he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to his surroundings. His eyes were closed, he hummed some unknowable tune, and he bobbed his head to a beat only he could hear. She’d seen a number of sorry soldiers in her day, but this one - well, this one took the cake by a wide margin.

Moving past the guard, leering at him all the while, she snorted and knit her brow. If the sad sack of bones was still there once she’d finished her meeting with Celestia, she’d have more than a few words for the less than exemplary sentry. Trotting into the throne room, shaking the abysmal guard from her thoughts, she spotted the Princess on the throne and shook a lock of mane from her face.

Fortunately for her, the discussion with Celestia was a trivial matter which lasted under an hour - regrettably, as she saw herself out, she glanced over and saw the pegasus guard exactly where she’d left him. She’d hoped he would be gone or possibly tending to his duties as he ought to, but she’d been wrong - extremely wrong. Instead of merely humming to himself, the stallion was quietly singing and dancing in place - dancing! Though she held no official rank, merely being an advisor of sorts, there was only so much she could stand.

“You,” she grunted, shifting and storming over to him.

Snapping from his stupor, the pegasus looked in her direction, spotted her, and immediately stiffened. “M…m…me?”

“Yes, you,” she huffed, glowering at him.

She stopped just before him and peered deeply into his wide, lilac eyes. While she’d had every intention of berating him, chastising him for his utterly amateurish and frankly laughable state, she paused. Her eyes wandered over him, drinking in each little detail she could see, while he swallowed hard. She’d had a very poor opinion of him from afar, seeing him from several dozen paces away, yet her ire gradually grew tinged with fascination.

He was tall, easily a full head taller than herself, and his build, though not heavily muscled, wasn’t without a certain charm. Unlike the overwhelming majority of his armored colleagues, he almost looked effeminate in his burnished, ill-fitting plate. Bringing her attention back to his face, noticing the barest hint of stubble on his chiseled jawline, she suddenly found it difficult to speak.

“Y…you’re - um - you’re Tempest ~ aren’t you?” he stammered.

The moment he spoke her name, a shiver ran up her spine. His voice was like that of an angel, soft and lilting, but his eyes - ancestors help her, his eyes were what truly captivated her. Like twin ruby saucers, his big, beautiful eyes looked upon her with a mixture of veneration and concern. She opened her mouth to reply, to smugly confirm his assumption, yet no noise escaped her.

Her thoughts ran wild, her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t avert her gaze. He was handsome, almost painfully handsome, and his timid demeanor paired with his dulcet tone moved her in a way that no stallion ever had. Heedless the fabric over her groin growing damp, or the blood rushing to her face, she gulped and took a small step back.

He cocked his head to the side and stared down at her. “You can talk ~ can’t you?”

“I - uh - I’m…” she faltered, tripping over her words.

What the hay was going on? She was Tempest Shadow, she had decades of combat experience under her belt, she was a peerless combatant, and she’d faced a myriad of foes over the years ~ so why was she getting so worked up over some rangy, gorgeous excuse of a guard? Summoning all the willpower she could muster, she shook her head and dislodged the unwanted, wholly vexing thoughts from her mind.

“Yes, I am Tempest,” she finally announced, though in a far less intimidating manner than she would have liked. “And you are…?”

“Zephyr Breeze,” he responded, snapping the worst salute she’d ever seen.

She would have been happy to get his name, but he wasn’t finished with his introduction. Bringing his wings up to his head, he removed his helmet and sheepishly smiled upon her. Golden locks of mane cascaded around his face, flowing to one side of his long neck and over his upper back, bringing a quake to her knees. She’d been wrong, he wasn’t gorgeous, he was an angel from the heavens above.

Cradling the helm under one wing, he lifted and rubbed the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Sorry, I’m kinda new at this. Was there anything I could help you with, Miss?”

With her mouth going dry and her marehood growing moist, she could think of a number of things that he could help with, but she couldn’t simply start chatting with him - at least not right in the middle of the castle. Years upon years of training kicked into high gear, leading her to turn her head and evaluate her surroundings. There were six guards in or just outside the room, including himself, and he was obviously the weakest link - therefore, seeing as how she was clearly the largest threat in the vicinity, it would only be right that she be handled differently than most guests.

“I - Ahem,” she abruptly coughed into her hoof. “As you must know, I have a bit of a reputation for my past transgressions. Since you’re a obviously a rookie, it would behoove you to escort me off the premises and to my room at the Mareiotte hotel on Broadway.”

She couldn’t help it, she wanted - no, needed to learn more about him. Throughout her life, she’d been around more ponies than she could possibly count, both on and off the field of battle, yet this Zephyr was unique in a number of ways. If he actually was a guard, he was in dire need of some much-needed tutelage and, if her suspicions were correct, hooves-on instruction - as such, she’d be remiss for not giving him a personal assessment.

Zephyr stiffened, unsure of what to say or do. He’d never met Tempest before, but he’d recognized her the instant he saw her trotting over to him. Her armor, jet-black bodysuit, vermilion mohawk, and piercing, turquoise eyes were unmistakable. Lifting his head and looking for his supervisor, he anxiously fidgeted.

“Lemme just ask my boss,” he muttered. “I’m not sure if -”

“Would you ask your boss for permission to stop an intruder?” she interrupted, stepping forward and gently prodding his breastplate.

With a start, he lowered and shook his head. “I…no - no, I guess not.”

“That’s right,” she clucked. Turning to and marching toward the exit, she glanced back at him. “Now be a good little colt and do your job.”

Watching her trot through the foyer, he was stricken by a number of things about her. She clearly wasn’t afraid to say exactly what was on her mind, a far departure from nearly every other mare he’d ever crossed paths with, but that was far from a bad thing. As scary as she was, strutting around like the warrior goddess that she was, he’d be lying if he said had a certain appeal.

He’d never been the sort of stallion to go after strong, domineering mares, but he’d be darned if there was something about her that didn’t tickle his fancy. She was a walking paradox, her graceful gate and stunning good looks to her armor and her cavalier attitude, and he found her fascinating - menacing as all get-out, but fascinating all the same. Reluctantly abandoning his post, praying he wasn’t going to get in trouble, he fixed his mane, donned his helmet, and cantered up behind her.

“So…” he uneasily began, moving along beside her, “have you been behaving yourself?”

“I have been, for now,” she snickered, one corner of her lips turning up. “But what would you do if I wasn’t?”

The question took him completely off guard. Peering over at her face, seeing the predatory glint in her eyes, he nervously licked his lips. “I mean, I guess I’d have to stop y - Wha?!?”

Before he could finish speaking, she dropped to the ground, spun around, and sweeped his legs out from under him. The move was so fast and so jarring that he had no time to react, falling to the cobblestone beneath his hooves in the blink of an eye, yet she hadn’t been finished - not by a long shot. Rolling him onto his back, pinning his wings under him, she mounted his midsection and held his forelegs to either side of his chest.

“You were saying?” she mused, smirking down at him.

There’d only been a small hoofful of times he’d been left totally and completely speechless, but this was definitely the most startling of them all. Her weight bore down against him, the warmth of her nethers radiating through her jumpsuit against his abdomen, while she held him to the ground. The startling turn of events would have been terrifying to a fault, had they not been so inexorably arousing. He couldn’t explain it - heck, he could barely wrap his head around it, but being under her while she sinisterly grinned down at him may have been the hottest predicament he’d ever been in.

He would have remained where he was, too frightened to move, had he not felt his stallionhood slipping from its sheath. Alarm bells rang in his mind, telling him that if he didn’t hastily get her off of himself, she’d feel just how excited he was getting. Given what he’d heard about her, paired with how quickly she’d incapacitated him, he shuddered to think what she’d do if she felt his stallionhood twitching and swelling between her powerful thighs.

Fueled purely by adrenaline and dread, he pushed off with his wings and managed to dislodge her - if only just. Sweat beaded his brow, his chest heaved, and he teetered on the brink of a panic attack, yet he’d narrowly avoided a disastrous development and quite possibly meeting an untimely demise - unfortunately for him, and much to his horror, his self-described charge was well aware of what had happened. With her jaw nearly on the ground, Tempest gawked in open awe at the semi-rigid length dangling beneath him. Though he threw his wings down to cover his shame, it was far too late to save face.

“It’s a diversion tactic!” he blurted.

Tempest’s trance was only broken when her line of vision was broken by his feathered appendage. She’d seen a good number of stallionhoods in her day, but never, not once, had she laid eyes upon one so absurdly large. Though she’d only got a glimpse at his goods, no more than a second or two at most, she hadn’t the slightest shred of doubt that he was packing some serious heat.

Swinging her focus back up to his face, she closed her mouth and wiped a bead of drool from her chin. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a diversion,” he bleated, going so far as to lift a hind leg to further conceal his loins. “Makes it hard for your enemy to concentrate!”

She could smell the bullcrap from a mile away, but she wasn’t upset - in fact, he’d intentionally or unintentionally just given her the opportunity of a lifetime. “I was unaware that you were versed in such an advanced combat tactic,” she snickered, doing her darndest not to burst into laughter. “A shrewd move on your part, I must admit, although I believe your technique needs a bit of refinement…”

“I…what?” he croaked, taken aback by her assertion.

“Come,” she intoned, trotting ahead.

She may have seemed collected, but that was purely a skin deep; on the inside, the fires of her lust grew hotter and brighter with every step she took. Struggling to keep herself from breaking into a canter, she walked along at a brisk pace. The hotel she was staying in was only a short distance from the castle, just a few minutes’ trot, yet she found it difficult to compose herself by the time she reached her destination.

Through the front doors of the establishment and into the lobby, she only slowed when she entered the lift and pressed the button to go up to her floor. All but plastering himself to the far wall of the elevator, creating as much room between himself and her as he could, Zephyr refused to look at her while they gradually ascended. If her hunch about him was right, that he’d gotten a bit worked up when she’d ambushed him, she couldn’t wait to see how he’d react to what he was in for.

She spent what little was left of their brief journey in silence, ruminating on exactly what she was going to do with him, until she’d seen them into her room, closed the door behind them, and turned the lock. It had been ridiculously easy to lure him to her chamber, but the trickiest and hopefully most entertaining part was yet to come. Trotting past him and turning to face him, she wryly smiled up at his face.

“Strip…”

Zephyr balked and blinked rapidly at the sudden, unforeseen demand. “E…excuse me?”

“Strip,” she coldly repeated. “Your armor would be useful if it had been fitted properly, but that isn’t the case. Until I can -”

“You first!” he squawked, cutting her off.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered in a flash. “You would ask me to -”

“T…the best leaders aren’t a…afraid to set an example,” he stammered, the armor quietly jingling about his trembling frame. “If y…you want me to take it off, you should t…take yours off first.”

As her blood ran hot, she studied him. “Very well…”

If he thought she’d shrink from the audacious demand, he was sorely mistaken. Balancing on three hooves, she began steadily removing the segmented portions of her armor. Piece by piece, the metal plates fell to the carpet around her hooves until only her peytral remained. She dipped her head and let the heavy collar slip from around her neck, landing with a dull thud beneath her, before she lifted her gaze and smiled up at him.

“Your turn…” she hummed.

Spontaneously glancing to her flank, he steeled his resolve. “T…the suit too.”

“How about this -” she snickered, lazily circling him, “if you want to see me with my suit off, you’ll have to do two things for me…”

He turned his head and watched her moving around him, feeling very much like a prime cut of steak in a chimera’s den. “A…and those are?”

“First, you’re going to strip for me,” she purred. “Second, if I find your performance adequate, you’ll peel my suit off me yourself.”

He’d genuinely been uncertain of if she fancied or loathed him, yet the mention of stripping and his impending performance left little room for doubt. Somehow, as unbelievable as it may have been, he’d caught the eye of the most battle-hardened mares on the planet. Looking her over, wondering what lay beneath the black, clinging fabric of her attire, he came to a conclusion in mere seconds. Buck it - if putting on an impromptu burlesque show meant he’d have a swing at the Tempest Shadow, he was going to do his best to leave a lasting impression.

“Just give me one second,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his snout.

He didn’t know the first thing about erotic dancing, and he sure as heck couldn’t have guessed he’d be putting on a lewd act for a former villain, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Taking several long, steady breaths, he fought to calm his frazzled nerves. She didn’t harry him nor chide him for the silent moment, allowing his jitters to subside. He was still extremely nervous, but that didn’t stop him from opening his eyes, putting on his most fetching smile, and removing his helmet with his wings.

Tossing his head from side to side, allowing his flowing locks to sail through the air, he hummed contentedly. “That’s much better…”

She’d assumed he would clumsily remove the oversized golden carapace he’d been wearing, yet he carefully and gracefully unclasped and plucked the armor from his body. The way he moved was mesmerizing to a fault, each little gesture with his wings, hips, or legs flowing like water, and she was honestly astonished to discover how elegant he was. Had she not known better, she would have assumed he was a dancer instead of a soldier!

Periodically spinning and setting pieces of plate on the dresser beside him, giving her a look at his tight, very squeezable tush, he faced her and gave a small bow once he was completely nude. “Your turn, Tempest.”

Hearing him say her name in such a sultry fashion practically did her in on the spot. The ache in her nethers was downright painful, she was pretty sure she was drooling from both ends, and her thoughts were lost in an amorous haze. Sidling over and dipping her head, she shamelessly peeked beneath him and spotted his semi-rigid stallionhood.

The sight of his endowment was the final nail in her coffin, sundering what little self-restraint she had left. There was only one reason in Equestria he’d be partially hard while alone with her in a hotel room, and that was after he’d brazenly told her to get naked for him, which demanded a change of plans. While she had planned on toying with him, playing a bit of cat and mouse, the direct route was suddenly much more appealing.

“Bed…” she breathed.

He straightened up and loomed over her, his smugness faltering. “But I thought -”

“Bed now,” she rumbled, craning her head to lock eyes with him. “Get comfortable or I’ll make you comfortable…”

“A…alright,” he sputtered, lifting and placing one forehoof on the foot of the bed.

Getting onto the mattress, he trotted to the headboard, eased himself down, and rolled onto his side - that was until an idea came to him. Considering she hadn’t tried to be the slightest bit subtle with peeking at his goods, maybe giving her a better look at what he had to offer would work in his favor. He pushed off with a wing and came to rest on his back, leaving his fore and hind legs pointed to the ceiling, while he gave her his best come hither look.

“Like this?” he cooed, going so far as to shoot her a wink.

She’d been blasted by magic, bludgeoned with cudgels, and had her face laid open by an ursa major, yet his presentation dealt a blow that threatened to undo her. Practically scrambling onto the bed, on the brink of falling into an outright rut-lust, she dashed up beside him. He’d made good on his part of the bargain, and now it was time for her to fulfill her end of things.

Wheeling around to face in the opposite direction of him, she stepped over his head and squatted down over his face. “There’s a zipper on my back between my shoulder blades.”

Peering down her chest, she marveled at his gradually swelling length. She’d known he was well-endowed the moment she’d first glimpsed his equipment, but seeing his package up close made her realize just how exquisitely hung he was. She felt like she was staring down a cannon - a long, twitching, vascular cannon, but that wasn’t nearly enough to stop her.

Only vaguely aware of the fabric parting over her back, feeling the metal tab of the zipper drawn towards her hindquarters, she lowered her face and brought her snout to the tip of his length. His cock-head was huge, almost the size of her hoof, and his shaft was practically as long as her foreleg. The rational part of her brain told her that doing anything with him would be disastrous, not for the least reasons being she hadn’t been laid in quite a long time, yet the spontaneous, lust-driven portions of her mind screamed for her to indulge her long-neglected wants.

Continuing her descent and bringing her snout to the base of his dick, she paused and looked back. “Just for the record, you are single ~ right?”

Peeking out from behind her flank, pulling the suit down the cheeks of her ass, he nodded. “Y…yeah…”

“Perfect,” she sighed, pressing her nose to the thick, fleshy folds of his sheath.

She’d gotten a whiff of his aroma while walking along with him, yet the hints of his scent didn’t do him justice. Strong but not overpowering, with a slightly floral note, the musk wafting from his loins was too fantastic to be real. As she drew a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs with his bouquet, her eyelids fluttered.

Her tongue ran over the base of his shaft, coating her palate in the salty, incredible flavors of his unwashed cock. In her experience, most stallions placed personal hygiene as a low priority, only bathing when they had to, but Zephyr was obviously a different breed. It was subtle, but she could detect what she assumed was a lavender body wash tickling her nostrils. Lost to her thoughts, bringing a hoof around to gingerly caress his plump, meet balls, she groaned and rocked back when something warm and wet graced her sex.

“S…sorry!” he cried.

“I…” she trailed off, stopping herself from telling him not to apologize. It would have been impossible for him to know it, but he’d just royally screwed himself over. Pushing herself up, she balanced on three legs while angling his dick toward her face. “Continue…”

Swinging his focus from her face to her backside, Zephyr gave a small nod. He’d presumed she’d been worked up, but he couldn’t have fathomed just how aroused she really was. Her suit had been positively drenched, her marehood winked and dribbled juices onto his neck, and he’d bet his bottom bit that her nipples were hard enough to cut glass. As stimulating as the revelation was, the circumstances were all the more electrifying because of one small fact - she’d gotten like this because of him.

While he really hadn’t meant to give her naughty bits a lick, momentarily succumbing to his urges, he was thrilled she wanted him to keep going - that being said, he was in uncharted waters. He’d read about sex, he’d looked at dirty magazines, and he’d even considered hiring an escort so he’d finally get laid, but the most lovin’ he’d ever gotten was from his wing or a forehoof. Brought back to the present as she rocked back and ground her snatch over the top of his muzzle, smearing his face with nectar, he set his brow and extended his tongue.

The view of her behind was sublime. Just as toned and athletic as Rainbow Dash, she was like a warrior Queen. Each wink of her marehood gave him a peek at her succulent, rosy interior, the color contrasting sharply against the dark, bare flesh of her groin, and it was all the inspiration he needed to dive in. Following his instincts and keeping his hooves crossed that he’d do a decent job, he wrapped his lips around her bulging clit and hummed.

“Oh fffffffffffffffudge,” she groaned, shivering from her hooves to the top of her head.

The fruity flavors dancing over his taste buds were exquisite, feeling her tremble against him was divine, and hearing her moan above him was like music to his ears, spurring him on like nothing ever had. Though he still had a hard time believing he could be so lucky, going from meeting a mare to having her virtually sitting on his face over the span of less than an hour, he wasn’t about to complain! While he eagerly lapped at her sex, drawing his tongue between her meaty lower lips and to her entrance, something hot and wet crept up his stallionhood.

He would have liked to savor whatever he was doing, to fixate on what would hopefully be the first blowjob he’d ever received, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t. There was no way for him to guess how many stallions she’d conquered in the past, likely leaving a wake of subjugated studs in her wake, so he had to focus and prove himself. While he may have frustrated her as a royal guard, he was sure as heck going to impress her in the sack.

Reaching the tip of his shaft, Tempest swung her jaw open, dipped her head, and filled her muzzle with his godly tool. Under ordinary circumstances, she’d just throat her partner, muffle them with her cunt, and edge them until they were begging into her muff for sweet, sweet release, but these were far from ordinary circumstances. She filled her lungs and worked her way downward, taking inch after girthy inch of shaft into her gullet, until she fully grasped the gravitas of the situation.

Having only made it roughly halfway down his length, she felt a twinge of discomfort in her jaw. The development was infuriating, especially because the sensation of his silken skin against her tongue and stuffing her gullet was wildly exhilarating, yet she didn’t submit. Clamping her eyes shut, she forced her head lower.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her neck bulge from the immense intrusion. His loving ministrations were an absolute godsend, titillating her and rocking her with waves of pleasure, yet they stymied her efforts and made it nearly impossible to concentrate. Gagging around him, her attempts to whimper quite literally choked by his stallionhood, she considered herself fortunate that he couldn’t hear or see her in such a moment of weakness.

Ignoring the ache in her jaw, dead set on hilting him in her muzzle, she came to a stop when her lips touched his medial ring. She was so close, so very close to bumping her nose to his nuts, that she wasn’t about to give up. With a final reckless drive forward, her lungs burning and heart racing, she victoriously accomplished her carnal task - sadly, her triumph was short-lived.

Either out of spite or in a fit of pique, he ravenously nursed on her clit while his wings sank under her suit and to her abdomen. An assault on one erogenous zone would have been devastating, but to have her sensitive teats and marehood played with so expertly, with such precision and vehemence, did her in. Much to her shame, overwhelmed and outclassed by what she could only describe as a sensual demigod, she was flung past the threshold and into a tumultuous maelstrom of ecstasy.

The sensation of her gullet spasming around his length should have let Zephyr know that something was amiss, yet his inexperience kept him hungrily suckling on the tender bud of flesh until a deluge of scalding nectar washed over him. He recoiled and sputtered, his mouth filled to the brim with the thick, tart juice flowing from her quivering depths. Moments from apologizing, completely drenched from the shoulders up, understanding dawned on him.

He hadn’t done anything wrong - quite the contrary, he’d done something right. The baptismal flood of her climax filled him with a power he didn’t know he had, unleashing a part of himself which, until that very moment, hadn’t seen the light of day. Withdrawing his wings and caressing her back, more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life, he shifted his head over to peer down at her.

“Look’s like somepony is enjoying herself,” he smugly chuckled.

Though she was still riding the tailwind of her orgasm, her rapture only barely beginning to subside, his comment stoked the flames of her passion into a white-hot inferno. How dare he be so full of himself?! Sure, he might have been drop-dead sexy - yeah he might have a dick that would put most yaks to shame, but how in the hay did he think he could talk to her like that. Rearing back and unsheathing his length from her maw, uncaring of the ropes of saliva and pre-cum dangling from her chin, she whipped around and glared at him.

“Don’t move,” she hissed, shakily getting her hooves under herself.

There wasn’t a stallion on the planet who could best her, and she was going to prove it. Turning to face him, she lifted one leg at a time and fully removed her suit. Her oral skills were impressive, honed by the myriad of sex-toys she’d used to suppress her gag reflex and train her gullet, but her marehood was in a league of its own. She was about to show this cocky, big-cocked would-be casanova why she was feared…

No sooner did the head of his cock kiss her entrance than she threw her weight down and impaled herself upon him. She’d meant to put him in his place, to fuck herself on him with reckless abandon, yet her hubris was her undoing. While she was successful in hilting every inch of his endowment, the length and girth of his stallionhood took her breath away.

“H…holy cow,” he gasped, peering down his chest at her.

Gathering herself, she shudderingly gyrated her hips. “Impressed?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking up to her face. “Do you - um - mind if I help?”

She was tempted to tell him no, if only to save face and subjugate him, but that would have been a fool’s errand. Screwing herself on the war club he called a dick would be no easy task, especially because her refractory period was already gone, so making the endeavor a group effort would be in her best interest. Leaning forward and placing her forehooves to either side of his head, bringing her nose to within an inch of his muzzle, she grinned.

“Just do me one favor -” she whispered, “be rough…”

For the umpteenth time over the last hour, her pride bit her squarely on the ass. Lifting and bracing his hind legs, he began plowing into her like a beast possessed. There was no buildup or gradual escalation of force - no, he simply started fucking her like it was the last day of their lives. Though she wanted to be angry with him, the unfathomable bliss he delivered was too much to bear.

“Buck yes,” she brayed, burying her face in his shoulder. “Just like that!”

To Tartarus with it - she may have been an imperious mare, but she knew when she was beaten. The raw ferocity of his thrusts, paired with the size of his stallionhood, was more than any mare could endure. She made no attempt to reciprocate his fiery affection, simply holding herself steady while he ruined her - not because pounding herself on him wouldn’t be fun, but because her strength had fled her.

His stallionhood impacted against her womb with every plunge, his balls slapped against her ass, and the sound of his deep, heavy breaths on her ear were electrifying. She’d heard that some mares were capable of having multiple orgasms, cumming multiple times in rapid succession in the hooves of an extraordinary lover, yet she’d never given such tales credence - that was until now. Feeling herself skyrocketing toward release, she mewled and stroked her neck on him.

To say Zephyr was elated would be an egregious understatement. He’d met one of the most renowned and infamous ponies in Equestria, been pulled from his duties for the day, and gotten the chance to get laid - all within the span of an hour! Bucking into her as hard and as fast as he could, having long since lost control of his body to his id, he grunted through gritted teeth. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last for very long, already feeling the telltale signs of an impending climax, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, and judging from her actions, she wanted his cum as badly as he wished to give it to her.

His muscles burned, his coat glistened in a cocktail of his sweat and her nectar, and his stallionhood throbbed in tune with his thundering heart - nevertheless, this was something he’d only ever dreamt of. Sex was so, so much better than he’d imagined, stimulating each of his senses and reducing him to little more than a crazed animal, yet he wanted more. As silly as the concept may have been, a deep, primal portion of him yearned to claim her and make her his mare.

The air grew thick with the smell of their heated bodies, a symphony of her guttural moans and his snorts echoed through the room, and her tight, soft depths fought his every backstroke. He’d realized he was close, yet he’d underestimated exactly how close he was. It wasn’t until the pitch of her howls raised an octave, her depths feeling as though they were growing more snug, that he realized he was starting to flare.

“I…I’m gonna…” he wheezed, unable to stop himself.

“Inside,” she blared, rearing back to lock eyes with him. “Cum inside me you lanky, beautiful bastard!”

She shot forward, locked lips with him, and drove her tongue into his mouth, sealing their fate with the deep, passionate kiss. Giving her one final, unstoppable plunge, he rammed the tip of his length into her foal-factory and came. The rapture of being able to cum inside somepony would have been fantastic in and of itself, yet her climax, feeling her marehood convulse around him while she brayed into his maw, made the moment absolutely perfect.

Their bodies grew still as they embraced and rode out their near-tandem orgasm. Thick, virile seed seeped from around his pulsing cock, leaking down his balls and to the sheets beneath them, while he filled her with his essence. Irrespective of their differences, the exchange gave them both something they desperately needed.

After what felt like a small eternity, Tempest pulled back and wearily peered into his eyes. “N…not bad…”

Zephyr nodded, relishing the taste of her saliva. “That’s - Cough - that’s a relief. For my first time doing it, I don’t think I did that bad either.”

“First…” she flatly repeated, her cum-addled brain trying and failing to process what she’d just heard. “You’re a virgin?”

“Was a virgin,” he corrected, lightly slapping her flank with his wing. “Can’t say I am anymore, thanks to you…”

There was only so much she could deal with at any given time, and she’d passed that line in the sand when she’d managed to fuck her face on his massive dick. Throwing in the metaphorical towel, she draped herself on him and closed her eyes. She could make sense of everything after she’d gotten some well-deserved rest, possibly while they showered together - for the time being, she simply wanted to enjoy the feeling of him growing soft inside her.

“You’re - uh - you’re not going to let me go back to work ~ are you?” he hesitantly asked.

She shook her head and stroked her cheek on his collar. “Not on your life…”