Opposites Attract

Zephyr pursed his tongue between his lips while he stared at his reflection. While he’d wanted to move out of his parents’ place, being close to work, not having to spend bits on rent, and getting home cooked meals made it very difficult for him to leave. Running a comb through his mane, he stepped back to get a better look at himself.

Outside of his duties at the Canterlot castle, he rarely wore much of anything while out and about; like most pegasi, he enjoyed the sensation of a nice breeze on his coat or flowing over his wings - that said, he was willing to make the odd exception. He timidly smiled at the mirror and adjusted the collar of his suit, one of the only pieces of clothing he owned, as he gave himself a final once-over. He wasn’t ordinarily one to gussy himself up, seeing as how he rarely had a reason to, but this was an extraordinary occasion.

It had been nearly two weeks since he’d had his wild fling with Tempest Shadow, the forbidding former villain who was now under Celestia’s employ, and the tryst had changed his life in more ways than one. Getting his v-card punched by an absolutely jaw-dropping mare would have been enough to have him sauntering around with a grin on his face for months on end, yet things hadn’t stopped there. Much to his amazement, after his passionate night with her, she’d paid him a visit at the castle, then another, and another…

Darned if he could explain it, but he’d apparently made quite an impression on the baleful unicorn - so much so that she wasn’t going to be satisfied with a one-night stand. Though she conducted herself properly in the castle, not doing anything to draw more attention to herself than she normally did, she made it painfully obvious that she wasn’t finished with him. Her heavily lidded eyes, whispered promises, and the way she’d sway her hips around him smacked of her lecherous intentions for him, yet therein lay a problem.

He felt certain that many stallions would be pleased as punch to have a friend with benefits, but he wasn’t most stallions. While there was nothing wrong with fooling around with somepony, he wanted more than just to get down and dirty with a drop-dead sexy mare. After her third attempt to coax him back to her hotel room, nearly falling for her trap, he’d acted on his impulses and made her a counter offer that he prayed she wouldn’t refuse.

It had taken him days to work up the courage to ask her, having warred with himself on if he should even make an attempt, but he’d ultimately asked her out on a date. Her reaction to his proposition had been one of the most stressful situations in his life; she’d balked and stared at him wide-eyed, going so far as to make him repeat his proposal twice, before she relented and agreed to meet him at the Poulains du Marché for dinner on Friday - that very day.

Taking her out for a nice meal and a conversation might not lead to much - heck, it may backfire in his face, yet it was the only thing he could think of! If she wanted him, she’d have to want all of him - as such, allowing them the opportunity to get to know one another seemed like the most reasonable course of action. With his collar straightened and mane brushed, looking as good as he could, he saw himself out of the restroom and nearly bumped into Fluttershy.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to…” the buttery mare trailed off as she noticed what he was wearing. “Are you going somewhere?”

He lifted a hoof to reply, moments from spilling the beans, but he stopped himself. “Something like that.”

Looking him over, she knit her brow. “It’s awfully late for a job interview…”

“I…” he uneasily began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

He really did love his little sister, so it didn’t feel right lying to her - nevertheless, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell his family that he was going on a date with the Tempest Shadow. Not only would he more than likely get grilled for his choice of mares, but he’d be fawned over incessantly for the foreseeable future - in short, it was a situation he’d rather avoid. Shying away and closer to the living room, he glanced to the foyer.

“I’ll tell you about it later ~ is that ok?” he countered.

She hesitated for a moment, clearly keen on learning what he was up to, but relented and gave him a small smile. “That’s fine, Zeph,” she whispered, trotting over and giving him a hug. “Just have fun ~ alright?”

Returning her embrace for a fleeting moment, he turned and proceeded to the front door. “I’ll try, Flutters. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” she murmured, waving a wing at him. “I look forward to hearing all about - um - well, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” he stated, trotting out and into the open air.

What he hadn’t said was that he’d tell her about his endeavor if it went well, but that was a concern he’d deal with later - for the time being, he had more pressing concerns. The restaurant was nearly a half-hour’s flight from the house, the sun was starting to set, and he wanted to be just early enough to ensure he got a table. As he cantered to and off the edge of the cloudbank upon which his family home rested, his eyes shot to the capital glimmering in the distance - little did he know, he wasn’t the only pony on pins and needles.

Pacing on the sidewalk in front of Poulains du Marché, the boujee eatery Zephyr had told her to meet him at, Tempest glanced over to a nearby sundial. She’d known she was going to be early, but that was hardly her fault - after all, it wasn’t like she had much experience with dating. Having a wild fling with a stallion that caught her eye was one thing, but going out for a fancy dinner put her at a distinct disadvantage.

She turned her head and looked to the window of the eatery, inspecting herself for the umpteenth time over the last thirty minutes. Adorned in a teal cocktail dress that complemented her eyes, as well as some lipstick that was just a shade brighter than her mane, she scrunched her snout. If her attire and choice of makeup didn’t suit Zephyr’s fancy, she was going to have some very strong words for the couture who’d suggested them.

Stars above, though she thought she looked alright, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more anxious - for Pete’s sake, she wasn’t this nervous before she launched the all-out assault on Canterlot when she’d been a commander for the Storm King! It had taken the better part of an hour to get herself ready, showering and going so far as to dab a bit of perfume on herself, and there was nothing more that she could do other than steel herself and try to play it cool. Ripped from her thoughts by a gust of wind, she turned, glanced to her side, and nearly gasped.

“I’m…I’m not late, am I?” Zephyr asked, bashfully smirking over at her.

Her brain registered he’d spoken, but darned if she could tell what he’d said. Clad in an honest to goodness suit, he looked more dashing than ever - in fact, he may have been the mostly sharply dressed stallion she’d ever met in person! Looking him over, from neatly-trimmed hooves to his luscious locks, she found herself staring into his big, beautiful eyes.

“Huh?” she grunted, only then realizing that she’d been asked a question.

Without knowing it, Zephyr wound up in the same predicament Tempest had been moments prior. In a word, she looked absolutely stunning. Her dress and her lipstick elevated her femininity to a divine level, robbing him of the ability to form words. She was naturally attractive, despite the intimidating combination of her reputation and her powerful physique, yet now she wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Grand Galloping Gala!

Shaking his head, seeing that she was staring dead at him, he collected his thoughts. “What was that?”

“You said something?” she pressed, blushing ever so slightly.

“I - oh!” he croaked, looking away as blood rushed to his cheeks. “I asked if I was late.”

Slowly turning her head from side to side, keeping her eyes on his beautiful countenance, she smirked. “You’re actually a bit early.”

“T…that’s good,” he stammered, peeking back at the entrance of the restaurant.

Trotting around her to face the door, he stooped down and locked forelegs with her. It may have been a bit old-timey, but he wanted to show her a good time and impress her. While he’d clearly made quite an impression with his stallionhood, he really, really wanted to prove that he was more than just a colt-toy for her. He motioned forward with a wing and gave her his most enchanting smile as he dipped his head.

“Shall we?” he hummed.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. He’d only just arrived, been with her for less than a minute, yet her heart was already pounding. There was clearly something wrong with him - not because he’d said or done anything to raise red flags, but because she simply felt weak around him! Of all the creatures and ponies she’d faced in the past, he was the only one who somehow robbed her of her martial prowess, her cavalier attitude, and even the ability to think clearly.

She trotted along beside him into the restaurant, stopped as Zephyr was greeted by the host, and was promptly shown into the dining area. She rarely ate out much, preferring to subside off simple, nutritious meals she made herself, which did little to help the circumstances. Posh ponies sat around her, chatting quietly while they ate their meals or sipped what she presumed was fine wine, elevating her anxiety by leaps and bounds.

“Here you are,” the host, a sprightly earth pony noted. “Ze waitress should be viz you shortly.”

“After you,” he remarked, pulling out the chair for her. Only once she’d seated herself did he stroll around to his own chair. “You ever been here before?”

“Can’t say I have been,” she answered, drinking in the place before turning her attention back to him. “And you?”

“Nope,” he laughed. “I gotta say, this place is really fancy.”

“And tactically unsound,” she muttered to herself. “The entrance is a massive choke point, the windows are too large, and these tables…” she added, rapping a hoof to the wooden piece of furniture, “I doubt they could withstand a bolt of magic.”

“I - um - yeah,” he mumbled, unsure of how to react to her strategic analysis of their surroundings. Tapping his forehooves on the table, he cleared his throat. “So how have things been going at the castle?”

With a weary sigh, she rubbed her temple. “Adequately - they’ve been going adequately. I took the liberty of making a few suggestions to the guards’ commanding officers about patrol routes, but I’m waiting to hear if they’ll be adopted.”

He reached across the table and rested a wing on her shoulder as the corners of his lips turned up. “I’m sure they will - after all, who better to give them advice on something like that?”

“Thanks,” she breathed. “And what about yourself ~ have you been a good little soldier?”

“Heh -” he chuckled, “I always try my best, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. Honestly, just between the two of us, I’ve been thinking about going back to school for cosmetology.”

Leaning back, she caressed his wing with her forehoof. “I could see that. Considering how well-kept you are, I feel like you’d be amazing at styling manes and tails.”

“Oh you’re just saying that,” he giggled, dismissively batting a hoof at her.

“No, seriously, you seem to have a talent for it -” she insisted, “more than some ponies I know…” Finishing a statement by brushing her mohawk, she laughed.

He quickly followed suit, trying and failing not to snicker at the lighthearted self-deprecation. “For what it’s worth, I like your mane; it’s distinct and suits you - besides, it’s not like -”

“Bonne soirée,” a waitress interrupted, coming to a halt beside their table. “May I take your order this evening?”

Having all but forgotten about the fact that they were going to eat, Zephyr peered over at the server. “I’ll have whatever you’d recommend,” he declared, placing his trust in the employee’s hooves.

Nodding and scribbling down something on a pad of paper, the waitress nodded and turned her attention over to Tempest. “And you, Madam?”

“Ditto,” she quickly replied, feeling foolish for not looking at the menu. “And maybe a fancy drink?”

“Uh-huh…” the waitress huffed, wheeling about and trotting away. “I’ll have some water and a pegu club out to you as quickly as I can.”

Waiting until the server had departed, Zephyr wrinkled his nose. “What’s a pegu club?”

Tempest shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine - anyways, you were saying?”

He motioned to her tall, imposing blade of hair running from her crown to the nape of her neck. “It’s not like you couldn’t try something different. If you wanted, maybe I could style it for you sometime.”

As she tilted her head and pressed her mohawk to the side of her head, she smirked. “Like this?”

“I was thinking you could grow it out a bit,” he replied, studying her and shrewdly rubbing his chin. “A round braid would keep your warrior goddess appeal - a…at least I think it would.”

She asked about braids, he explained several types - he inquired about her routine, she answered him. The discourse wandered from topic to topic long after her cocktail and their food arrived, drifting from subject to subject as only the most organic conversations do, while they lost themselves to the exchange. By the time they’d finished chatting, finally plucking their forks from the table to eat, their meals were already cooled.

“You know,” Zephyr spoke through a mouthful of pasta, “this isn’t that bad.”

Swallowing a mouthful and washing it down with a sip of her cocktail, Tempest offered her glass. “I don’t know what they put in this, but it is really good! Want to try it?”

He eyed the glass for a moment and grinned. “You’re just trying to get me tipsy ~ aren’t you?”

“Says the stallion who brought me to the snazzy restaurant and had me get all dolled up,” she cheerfully countered.

They laughed while they finished their meal, not wanting the fine cuisine to get colder than it already was, before Zephyr waved down a waiter and asked for the check. He couldn’t have been happier with how well the evening had gone. Tempest had let her metaphorical hair down, they’d spend well over an hour simply talking, and the food had been better than he’d expected - a bit pricey, but exquisite all the same. With the bill in hoof, he unseated himself and moved to her side.

He offered her his hoof and helped her down, even though she was probably the last pony in Equestria to need his assistance. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, slipping from her chair.

While she retained her smile, her contentment faltered. She’d gone on the date bracing for the worst, anticipating a quiet, clumsy exchange over some lavish vittles prepared by some conceited cook, though she’d gotten anything but. For the first time in what felt like forever, she’d truly enjoyed herself and been able to relax - sure, the drink may have played a small factor, yet it was the good company that had been the key to it all.

She stayed at his side as he paid and while they strolled out into the cool night air, yet her nerves slowly got the better of her. Since her outlook for the afternoon had been less than stellar, she discovered herself at a crossroads. One of the only reasons she’d gone out with him was to get him back in the sack, but now she just wanted to be with him.

Stopping outside on the sidewalk, tilting her head up at him. “So…thanks for that.”

“My pleasure,” he whispered, giving a small bow.

The pair stood in silence as they gazed upon one another. Neither wished the evening to end, yet neither knew exactly how to proceed. They were both in new territory, so neither said a word - that was until fate intervened. Stricken by a compulsion, Zephyr shot forward and pecked her cheek. Even if things were going to draw to a close for the night, wrapping things up with a small kiss felt more than fitting.

“Do you…” they started in tandem, each stopping the moment the other spoke.

“You first,” Tempest urged, her face a brilliant crimson.

Just as flustered as she was, Zephyr licked his lips. “W…want to come back to my place?”

He said the first thing that came to mind, desiring nothing more than to prolong her inevitable departure, but he almost immediately regretted his question. Given that he was still staying with his folks in Cloudsdale, bringing her back to his place would be an impossible task. She couldn’t fly, her magical abilities were relegated to bombastic explosives, and he had no way to carry her to his family’s home. With his blood running cold, she giggled and shook her head.

“Didn’t think that one out too well ~ did you?” she tittered. “Tell you what - as much as I’d like to see your house, how you walk me back to my place. I won’t jump your bones this time, no surprise inspections,” she playfully purred, shooting him a wink, “just the two of us keeping this fun time going ~ how’s that sound?”

Hanging his head, he peeked up at her with a silly little grin. “Didn’t think that one out too well ~ did I?”

“Nope,” she snickered, “but I’ll give you points for effort.”

With the hustle and bustle of the city around them, passing ponies out and about while enjoying their Friday evening, the two traveled in relative silence. Though they traveled in relative silence, enjoying one another’s company, their thoughts were abuzz. For all intents and purposes, there’d been nothing spectacular about the date - still, it had done wonders for them both.

The stroll lasted nearly half an hour, yet the time flew by in what felt like the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, they’d wandered into the hotel, up the lift, and at the door of Tempest’s room. As they lingered just outside the suite, their eyes met. A juncture was upon them, yet neither knew how things were going to play out.

“So, yeah, I guess this is my stop,” Tempest whispered.

The only reason she’d agreed to go out with him was to get him back into her sack, yearning for another amorous bout with him before she left town, but her motivation had shifted throughout the afternoon. As pleasantly unexpected as it was, she was growing quite fond of him. He was a bit awkward in both the literal and metaphorical sense, but he was genuinely sweet and seemed to actually care about her - both attributes being a far departure from what she was used to dealing with with stallions.

With his smile wavering, Zephyr looked to her door. “Yeah, I guess so…”

Bringing her out had been a gamble and he’d been keenly aware that she may have only gone with him in an attempt to lure him back to her place for sex, yet things had developed in a very unforeseen way. Beneath her cold, formidable exterior was a sweet and funny mare that utterly captivated him. Seizing the moment, he leaned in and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

She locked eyes with him and inched closer. “It’s only fair if I get one too…”

Taking advantage of the opportunity, she kissed him on the lips. Though she lingered for less than a second, he reciprocated her affectionate gesture with interest. As he pushed back against her, going so far as to fold a wing behind the back of her head to ensure she wouldn’t escape, her passion ignited. Closing her eyes and throwing her inhibition to the wind, she sank her tongue into his muzzle and softly groaned.

Like a dam having burst, their overwhelming tide of their fondness for one another bloomed. Her forehoof crept up his leg and to his shoulder, his wing slipped down her back, and their tongues entwined while their hearts beat wildly. Losing balance as she reached for her pocket, toppling against the wall, she pulled back and snorted.

“Keys…” she huffed, practically flinging herself upon him.

He did as he was told, the pinions of one wing fumbling to fumble for her dress. As willing as he had been to part ways then and there, he was absolutely certain that there was no stopping what was going to happen. Retrieving her keys and blindly fiddling to get them in the lock, he only managed to get the door open after several steamy, excruciatingly long seconds.

They practically tumbled into the room, pawing at one another while trying to stay on their hooves. Buttons were undone, zippers pulled, and clothing discarded in the heated exchange, until they shuffled and stumbled over to the bed. Disheveled, panting, and partially undressed, they pulled away from each other and breathed heavily.

Not a single word was spoken as they hurriedly stripped. While it was painfully easy for Zephyr to remove his suit, the same couldn’t be said for Tempest. Clumsily stepping out of her dress, taking care not to damage the garment, she glowered down at the discarded article. He would’ve had no way of realizing it, but she’d worn something special for the occasion - something he only not had the chance to see.

There was no right way to enact her little surprise, but she settled on the most alluring, sinful way imaginable. Crawling onto the foot of the bed and rolling onto her back, she splayed her hind legs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn any sort of underwear, let alone something so provocative, yet she’d spared no expense should things take an amorous turn.

“Well,” she cooed, reaching down to fondle her bosoms, “what do you think?”

With his eyes glued to her groin, Zephyr gulped. A crotchless, lacy pair of panties clung to her nethers, prominently displaying her plump, markedly damp marehood. The contrast of the cerulean undergarment against her hairless marehood, dark coat, and pink, winking clit was a sight to behold, rivaling or eclipsing even the most risque photos he’d seen in Playcolt magazines. While there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with telling her what he thought, he was inspired to let his tongue answer her in a different way.

He turned to face her, lowered his head, and ran his cheek down her thigh. Her scent from his night with her had haunted him, lingering in his sinuses for days, and the balmy aroma wafting from her loins was just as incredible as he remembered. The irony didn’t escape him - they may have skipped a dessert at the restaurant, but she’d presented him with a succulent last course to cap off their meal.

Kissing the meaty mound just above her pussy, he dipped lower and dragged his tongue up her lower lips. The flavors that exploded on his taste buds were electrifying, bathing his palate in the strong, fruity flavor of her essence and setting his heart alight. As she softly groaned above him, his eyes peered up her chest, past the breasts at her abdomen, and to her face.

“I - Mmmm - figured you’d like it,” she mused, resting her fetlocks on his shoulders.

His lips wrapped around her clit, suckling upon the sensitive bud of flesh and drawing a louder, guttural moan from her. He couldn’t speak for every stallion in the world, but there was something undeniably magical about eating a mare out while watching their reaction. Blood surged to the stallionhood dangling from his loins, causing his length to swell and grow at a record pace.

Gazing down on him, she gnawed her lower lip. His technique was impeccable, less rushed and more sensual than when they’d had their initial fling, and she had to fight to keep herself from flexing her hind legs to draw him in. Bolts of pleasure coursed through her, her breath hitched in her throat, and her nostrils flared while he alternated between focusing on her clit and slipping his tongue into her depths.

A spark leapt from her horn as he hummed into her. It was hard to believe that she was the only mare he’d ever done anything with, given his oral skills, but she had no reason to suspect he hadn’t been honest with her. Knowing that she’d been his first was a bit of a mixed bag; on one hoof, she took no small amount of pride from popping his cherry - on the other, a part of her regretted having been so forceful on their first, passionate encounter.

She delicately caressed her nipples, adding yet another layer of bliss to the encounter. Though she couldn’t see it from where she lay, she had no doubt that he’d grown rock-hard throughout the endeavor. The mere thought of his stallionhood left her torn, but she restrained herself. It wasn’t a matter of if things would progress but when.

It was only after she felt herself growing close, her thighs trembling and marehood winking uncontrollably, did decide to act. While she wasn’t opposed to cumming from oral alone, that hardly felt fair. Swinging one foreleg back and pushing herself up, she patted the top of his head. If she was going to cum, there was one way she could do it that felt right.

“H…hang on,” she sputtered, taken aback that he doggedly tried to continue feasting on her.

Pulling back with juices dripping from his chin, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she grunted, attempting to shift her weight to the side - attempting in that his wings and one foreleg kept her from rolling over. “What are you -”

“If we’re going to do it, I want to see your face,” he interrupted.

She squinted down at him, his statement hitting her like a ton of bricks. “Why?”

Shrugging, he tentatively lifted a foreleg and placed it beside her hip. “Because you’re beautiful.”

“Heh -” she mirthlessly laughed, “you already got me in bed, you don’t have to -”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, standing tall and resting his other forehoof on the mattress. “You’re one of - oh who am I kidding, you’re the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen.”

“I…” she fell silent, his words evoking a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within her.

As much as she wanted to trust him, his assertion seemed dubious at best. She wasn’t as curvaceous as many mares, she was more muscular than a great many stallions, and her aesthetic wasn’t what anypony would define as traditionally attractive, but there was one part of her that wouldn’t - couldn’t ever go away. Lifting a front leg, she ran her forehoof over her right eye.

“Even with this…?” she whispered, fearful for what he may say.

She’d been a broken pony since her youth, ever since her fateful encounter with the ursa major she’d had when she was a filly. Her horn had been shattered, robbing her of the ability to ever use magic properly, and the wounds she’d received had been more than just skin deep. If she hadn’t been maimed, hadn’t become a useless unicorn, maybe things would have been different for her - alas, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, the potential of a normal life weighed heavily upon her.

“Even this,” he faintly breathed, tracing a feather along the discolored band of skin. “I don’t care what anypony says or thinks about this,” he continued, smiling sweetly down upon her, “but I consider it, just like the rest of you, exotic.”

Feeling as though her mouth was full of sand, losing herself in his eyes, she gulped. “R…really?”

He stood on his hind legs and stepped forward, gliding his stallionhood over her groin, as he brought his muzzle within a hair’s breadth of her snout. “Really…”

His breath washed over her face, but it was his declaration that made her hair stand on end. Most ponies tried to ignore her scar, in spite of how it wasn’t uncommon for her to catch them looking at it, but not him. Instead of revulsion, pity, or fear, he gazed upon her with nothing but admiration and care - she could see it in his eyes. Unable to move, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had, he closed his eyes, pressed his hips to hers, and kissed her.

She reached out and pulled him close, wrapping one foreleg around his neck while her other hoof moved around his side and to his back. Taking a small step back, he brought the tip of his stallionhood down her crotch and to her entrance. There were a great many things she wished for in life: power, bits, vindication for her transgressions, yet it wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much she yearned for companionship - companionship that only he could give.

The second she felt the broad head of his cock press against her marehood, she kicked her hind legs out and hooked her fetlocks over his waist. There was no way in Tartarus either of them were going to leave until they were both satisfied, and she was going to make sure of it. Her fetlocks snapped around him like a vice, preventing any escape, while she flexed her legs and drew him in.

His stallionhood gradually sank into her depths, stretching her confines while sending bolts of pleasure coursing through her. Unlike the first time they’d done it, when she’d recklessly impaled herself upon her, the slow intrusion allowed her to relish the intense, phenomenal experience. Whimpering into his muzzle as she was steadily filled, she caressed his back and did what she could to stay relaxed.

He stopped once the battering ram-like tip of his length ground against her womb, though he wasn’t fully hilted. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, not wanting to jinx herself, but she wondered if she’d ever get used to having something so tremendous inside herself. She broke their kiss as he fell still, looked up at him, and nodded.

“Ready?” he murmured.

Once she nodded, he draped himself over her and began to move. Like molten velvet, her interior embraced him. Tightening upon his backstrokes, while relaxing on his plunges, her marehood was as well-trained as the rest of her. He struggled to hold himself back, railing against his urge to go wild, as he rested his head over her shoulder.

She was the only mare he’d ever been with, but he couldn’t imagine anypony being better than her. Her smell, her cavalier attitude, her taste, the way her hooves glided over him, how gosh darn sexy she was - she was a feast for the senses, and he was going to do everything he could to make her his. Moving slightly faster, he brought the tips of his wings between them and to her belly.

Having been well on her way to a climax, the additional stimulation to her teats flung her to and over the brink. Her marehood spasmed around his pistoning length, gushing nectar to the sheets and on his balls, as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The climax was just what she’d been yearning for, but she wasn’t about to simply lay there and bask in the ecstasy he afforded. She slipped her fetlocks lower, lifted her hips, and fitfully bucked up to meet his thrusts.

Something had changed when he’d cum in her, igniting a thirst she didn’t know she had, and she knew she wasn’t going to be content until she experienced it again. Their initial tryst had seen her at a disadvantage, wholly blindsided by his endowment and his preternatural skill in bed, but now she was ready for him. Weathering the onslaught of bliss, she fought to make the experience just as pleasurable for him as it was for her.

Her first climax was followed shortly by a second, then a third and a fourth, until she was a quivering, gasping heap beneath him. No matter how hard she tried, it was a herculean task to stand up to a stallion of his carnal prowess. His plunges were delivered with immaculate precision, stimulating her in ways that should have been impossible, and they only grew more intense as time grew on. Eventually but begrudgingly submitting, relegating herself to mewling like some common whore, she clung to him for dear life.

As much as he respected her for who and what she was, seeing her reduced to such a pitiful state drove Zephyr into a frenzy. She could defeat Princesses, track ponies across continents, and had likely slain foes he’d never even heard of, but it was he who had bested her. Inching closer and closer to his limit, he surrendered himself to his primal longing to claim her. The veins along his stallionhood pulsed angrily as the head of his cock began to flare, making it harder to keep railing her, yet he persisted for as long as he could.

She was a fertile field, and he was going to sow his seed within her. He grunted and snorted, a sheen of sweat glimmered on his body, and his balls pulled taut to his groin. Try as he might to delay the inevitable, it was like trying to stop the tide or the break of dawn. Waiting until the very last moment, he sheathed the entirety of his stallionhood within her, threw his head back, and gave a triumphant roar.

His bestial bellow of conquest, paired with the sensation of his scalding essence flooding into her, was more than she or any mare could endure. Her vision tunneled, her mouth hung open in a noiseless scream, and she almost blacked out from the blinding, white-hot rapture that consumed her. This wasn’t just a fling, this was more than sex - this was as close to a divine experience as any living pony could get.

He collapsed on her, fitfully coughing and gasping for breath, while she stared up at the ceiling. She’d wanted to be with him, to taste what he had to offer again, but that desire was gone now. Though she wasn’t exactly sure how she would pull it off, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to stay with him - to make him a part of her life.

“P…pretty good?” he weakly laughed, falteringly turning his head to look at her with one eye.

She did likewise, languidly shifting to peek over at him. “I…I…”

She wanted to say she loved him, to confess that she wished to be with him forever, yet she was too savvy for that. While it was true that she liked him, and that he was a sex god made manifest, to pledge herself to him after such a passionate exchange would be lunacy. She was cum-drunk, high on life, and not in her right mind to speak of anything too serious, but she wasn’t completely helpless.

“Y…you wanna go on another date?” she wheezed, giving a halfhearted grin.

He smirked and pushed himself up to get a better look at her. “We might want to shower first. Going out like this would - Oooph!” he grunted when she lightly jabbed him in the ribs.

“Later,” she clarified, her strength and wits returning. “A date later - like maybe tomorrow.”

Beaming down at her, he held her close and rolled her onto her side with him. “Sounds like a plan, marefriend.”

As innocent as the word was, the mere mention of it made her giggle like a schoolfilly. She was an absolute mess, the bed needed changing, and she had what felt like a pint of foal-batter within her, but she was happy - no, she was elated. There was no way for her to know what the future would hold for them, or what she was going to do when she eventually left Canterlot to go back home, but she was certain of one thing - she just got a coltfriend for herself…