“Hot damn,” Leech chuckled, running her hand down the immense swell in Magma’s pant leg. “Are you smuggling a summer sausage around or are you just happy to see me?”
Flexing his groin and sending blood into his swelling stallionhood, Magna snickered. “Please - like you wouldn’t know.”
His gaze wandered from her face down to her chest. Adorned in a very flimsy tube-top and a skirt that only covered a portion of her ass, she looked stunning - well as stunning as a total slut could look while she was fondling his package. Either by sheer luck or fate, he’d run into her while leaving The Bilge, one of the seedier dives in town, and things had escalated quickly from there.
She sank down into a deep squat and spread her legs as she licked her lips and eyed his crotch. “I would ask you if you’d mind me choking on your junk, but we both know where this is going.”
“You got me,” he laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender, “though I wouldn’t mind a bit of a show - that and I’d hate for you to get your clothes dirty.”
Cocking her head up at him, she smirked. “Could’ve just asked before I got down here,” she sighed, rising to her full, unimpressive height. “You want to help or…”
“Nah nah,” he mused, stepping back and easing himself down onto the side of his bed. “As fun as it would be to peel you out of that little outfit of yours, I’d like to watch you do it yourself.”
“Suit yourself,” she grunted, unceremoniously lifting her arms and tearing her top over her head.
The amethyst of her cat-like eyes and the snow-white of her face, mane, and tail clashed wondrously with her nearly black coat, yet the contrast of her aesthetic wasn’t what held his attention. Leech was short, shorter than most mares by a few inches, but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in curves and her voracious sexual appetite. With broad, foal-bearing hips, a damn nice bust, and an ass that was the envy of any street whore, she was incredibly easy on the eyes.
Ripping her skirt off and tearing it to the side, she revealed a neatly trimmed, fluffy white bush over the plump lips of her snatch. “Bless whoever invented tear-away clothes.”
“Preach, sister,” he hummed, his eyes drifting up and down her frame. “Well I guess I should -”
“Ah ah ah -” she tutted, wagging a finger as he reached for his belt buckle, “allow me.”
He leaned back, propped himself on his arms, and smiled over at her. If she wanted the dubious honor of undressing him, that was totally fine in his book. She strutted forward in nothing but her heels, bent forward before him, and gingerly placed her hands on his knees. It wasn’t the first time they’d fooled around, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but it had been far, far too long since he’d gotten his dick wet with her.
Moving slowly, smirking all the while, she tenderly unclasped his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down his fly. She was good at a number of things, ranging from scrounging to evading the fuzz, yet she had a particular knack for getting folks riled up - and he was no exception. Piece by piece, she carefully removed his shoes, socks, and slacks, leaving him in just his boxers and t-shirt.
Though he was fully aware that she’d mentioned wanting to strip him down, he slipped out of his shirt - not because he wanted to piss her off, but because she looked like she’d been hypnotized by the sight of his cock protruding from the bottom of his underwear. Tossing the garment to the side, he stared down his bare chest, past his abs, and to her lust-addled face.
“Ahem -” he coughed, shaking her from her stupor, “if you’re going to just look at it, you could always take a picture.”
She scrunched her snout and knit her brow as she grabbed and dragged his boxers down his legs. “Fuckin’ smartass…”
The moment he was fully naked, she shot forward, crammed her muzzle under his dick, and took a deep, shuddering breath. He couldn’t see it from where he sat, but he’d bet his bottom bit that she was drooling from both ends from his scent. Bringing one arm forward, he clutched the base of his length, lifted his dick, and draped it squarely over her face before he reached for his phone.
“Say cheese,” he murmured, training the lens down at her.
With downright startling speed, before he could press the button to take a photo, she shot back, swung open, and threw herself forward. In the literal blink of an eye, his cock, almost all fourteen inches of it, was sheathed in her snout and down her gullet. He winced in pleasure and fought to steady his hand so he could capture the moment, but he was able to manage - if only just.
As he withdrew and tossed his phone to the side, she reared back and freed his tool from her mouth. “If you tell me next time, I’ll even give you a double peace sign when I’m choking on it.”
“Oh you weren’t choking on it,” he coolly remarked, causing her to quirk a brow in confusion. Sending power into his horn, he surrounded her head with his magical aura, forced her mouth open, and hauled her toward himself. “Now you’re choking on it.”
Had she been anypony else, he wouldn’t have dared do something so reckless and foolhardy, but she wasn’t anypony else - she was Leech, the slutty vagabond of renown. Unlike most mares who’d try to escape from such a sudden and lecherous assault, she doubled down. With her eyes watering, she drove her head forward, pushed her lips past her luscious, pouting lips, and fully hilted him in her maw.
“There you go,” he purred, extending an arm to pat her cheek. “Have at it, girl…”
And have at it she did. With one hand cradling and lovingly kneading his balls, she swabbed her throat with his crimson length. Having a mare fuck her own face on him was always a pleasant experience, yet she had more than enthusiasm to offer. Her tongue massaged the sensitive underside of his shaft, her esophagus spasmed around his length, and she left a trail of pink lipstick on the dark length of his dick - still, as phenomenal as the show was, the bliss she afforded was on an entirely different level.
He couldn’t fathom how many blowjobs she’d given over her life, nor did he care, because her oral skills were unparallelled. The warmth of her gullet, the sound of her quietly gagging, the spectacle of her throat bulging and eyes watering - each and every detail about her vehemently sucking him off was perfect, and he wasn’t the only one enjoying it either. She shifted in place, reached for her cunt, and started angrily fingering herself while getting him off.
“Lemme - Mmmmph - just…” he trailed off, levitating his phone over to record her.
As her eyes darted over to the camera, she swung her legs wider and repositioned herself ever so slightly. Though it was subtle, she ensured their little home movie would capture her shamelessly finger-banging her slavering marehood. While he would have liked to get a better view of her himself, he was too preoccupied by trying not to enjoy himself too much.
Releasing his magical hold of her, he wove his fingers through her mane and clutched her skull. She didn’t fight him, ramming her head forward and back while pushing her lungs to their limit. It was only after nearly two full minutes, seeing her eyelids fluttering while her throat quaked, that he relented and let her get a sip of air.
She pulled back just enough to exhale and fill her lungs, keeping his broad cock-head in her muzzle. Fuck if he could explain it, but there was something undeniably hot about a young, sexy mare with his dick in their mouth. Her heavily-lidded eyes gazed up at him as she continued to serve him. If she wasn’t practically an urban legend, appearing and disappearing seemingly at random, he swore he’d chain her to his bed and make a broodmare out of her - nevertheless, at the end of the day, a night of fun was a night of fun.
He would have been happy to let her indulge herself for the rest of the evening, yet he knew that wasn’t going to happen. After what felt like nearly half an hour had passed, her drenching the floor with at least two climaxes, her motions ground to a halt. Gradually standing with his slick, lipstick-smeared stallionhood emerging from her maw, she clutched his cock and stroked him with one hand.
“So how we gonna do this, stud?” she cooed.
Grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm away, he slid over and made room on the mattress. “On your back…”
“Oh fuck yeah,” she tittered, flinging herself onto the bed. “Haven’t gotten plowed missionary style in at least a week!”
He rose and turned to face her while she rolled onto her back shuffled her ass to the edge of the mattress. “Oh I’m not gonna be plowing you in the missionary position,” he corrected, snatching one of her ankles in each hand.
Looking up at him, between the valley of her bust, she beamed. “Oh please tell me you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking…”
Driving her legs back toward her head, contorting her like a pretzel, he loomed over her and shoved her feet to either side of her head. “You tell me…”
He could practically see little hearts in her eyes, her marehood winked in anticipation against the tip of his length, and her hair stood on end. There was only one suitable way to rut a cum-dumster of Leech’s caliber, and that’s precisely what he planned to do, though there was something he had to do first. Kissing the crown of his stallionhood against her sopping wet entrance, he waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Beg for it…” he breathed.
“Oh Magma,” she moaned, needily wiggling her hips and writhing beneath him, “please - please split me open with that huge bitch-breaker and pump a foal into - Oh fuck!”
Before she could finish her sarcastic tirade, having realized that getting her to genuinely beg would have taken hours upon hours of ruthless edging, he shut her up by stuffing her cunt in a single, merciless thrust. His balls slapped against her ass, his stallionhood slammed against her womb, and his medial ring scraped against her g-spot, earning him a small orgasm for his efforts, but he wasn’t finished with her - not by a country mile. Ignoring her bliss-wracked face, he tilted his head down and began sucking on one of her fat tits.
There was no preamble, no gradual escalation or lovemaking - no, he simply pulled out all the stops and pounded her with everything he had. Her howls were a symphony, filling the air and fanning the inferno of his desires. She may not have been his mare, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to fuck her until they were both thoroughly satisfied.
Like a machine made flesh, he railed her like a jackhammer. His hips beat against her, his cock bulged her belly with every plunge, and his ripe, pendulous nuts rhythmically slapped against her tush. As he turned his head to her other bosom, his teeth gingerly bit and gnawed upon her sensitive, tender teat.
“R…right there,” she sputtered.
Her small plea was music to his ears, though it was hardly needed. Slowly, almost insidiously, his mind became fogged with raw, unabashed lust. He didn’t fight the onslaught of rapture, freely giving himself to the ecstasy she afforded. Harder and harder, faster and faster, his muscles contracted and relaxed while he utterly destroyed her.
Like many times before and many times yet to come, he lost track of time. Though he was vaguely aware that he’d brought her to climax at least a half-dozen times, he wasn’t granted the slightest bit of clarity until the sense of his approaching release was upon him. Slick with sweat, teetering on the brink, he peeked up to her face.
If she was still conscious, it wasn’t by much. Her eyes rolled wildly, trails of saliva crept down from her mouth, and she whorishly grunted and mewled to the heavens. As his stallionhood throbbed in tune with his thundering heart, its head flaring and threatening to breach her inner gates, he summoned all his strength and rammed into her with a mighty thrust.
A mighty roar shook the room, elevated by her shrill wail of ecstasy, as they met their end in tandem. Shot after seething shot of his seed flowed into her, coating her interior and marking her with his essence, while their bodies grew still. He wearily pushed himself up slightly, his body glistening in sweat and her nectar, and halfheartedly smiled down at her.
“W…was it good for you,” he croaked, relaxing his grasp of her.
In an instant, like some sort of demon, she shot her legs out and locked her knees around his waist. He’d fucked up - he’d fucked up bad, and there was nothing he could do to save himself. Staring into her eyes, seeing her pupils contract to razored slits, he gulped.
“Yeah, it was good,” she giggled, flexing her legs and drawing him in, “for a first round…”
