Pinkie Pie’s room was unusually silent. Not the usual silence, either. It was thick and heavy, and an electrical current hung in the air.

As did a smell.

“Haaa...”

A fierce heat burned within her body, stemming from her sopping wet marehood.

“Mmmph.”

She gyrated her hips, backwards and forwards. The bed creaked and whined lightly with each action.

“Tee hee!”

She giggled as Anon’s hands brushed down her sides (unintentionally tickling her), past her Cutie Marks, and settled onto her bouncy flanks, squeezing them.

“Hn-nngh...”

Pinkie groaned as he now grabbed onto her hips, pulling her downward to grind harder against his dick.

She leaned forward, supporting herself by placing both hooves on either side of his body. From this angle she could get a better look at the events playing out below. Anon’s dick pointed upward and to his navel, pressed against his body; held in place by Pinkie’s own glistening marehood. She gyrated back and forth again, rubbing herself across his unusually hard length.

This new angle afforded her a new opportunity—to grind her rosy, pink clit into his hard, hard dick.

“Ohh... oh, wow...”

Pinkie moaned, pressing her muzzle to his still-clothed chest. She could feel the thundering beats of his heart. His shirt was damp with sweat and she inhaled his intoxicating scent.

“Pinkie...” Anon groaned, pressing her harder down upon him. An idle hand snaked up the curve of her back and grabbed a fistful of her mane, tugging.

Pinkie froze, her body tense. Warm, electric tingles coursed throughout her body and a long, squeaky whine escaped past clenched teeth. Her orgasm was small, mellow. Nothing at all like the (regretfully) few shattering climaxes she’d been lucky to experience on rare occasions.

If this were to be a meal, then she’d just enjoyed a delectable appetizer; delicious and tasty in its own right, but far too paltry to satisfy a deep-seated hunger.

“Well,” Anon said, stroking her back. “At least someone’s enjoying herself.”

Pinkie chuckled. Her body went limp upon riding the small orgasm, and she now lay atop Anon’s warm body.

“Patience,” she panted, rising again on shaky forehooves. “Is a virtue, Nonners.”

He scoffed. “You’re starting to sound like Rarity.”

Pinkie hummed, smirking.

“I guess you would know, huh?”

Anon had the grace to blush.

“Alright, alright. Fair enough,” he conceded. “But, seriously though. I gotta ask. How did you... know?” At her questioning look, he continued. “You know, to make a move. To shoot your shot, after all this time.”

“Oh, that’s easy. My Pinkie Sense lets me know. I get an itchy ear, tickly nose, pinchy knee and also a tingly sensation. When all those happen in that exact same order, I know I’ll be in for some fun.”

“I... guess that makes sense. For you,” Anon said. He gave the impression of another question being on the tip of his tongue. Clearing his throat, he instead said, “A-and which part of you is the one that gets tingly?”

Pinkie blinked rapidly. With a small smile and a giggle to complement it, she leaned back. Looking down, Anon followed her gaze, where her hot, delightfully soft pink cunny rested atop his manhood.

“Oh,” he said. A smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, should’ve seen that coming.”

Pinkie, who’d been biting her lip upon revealing herself to Anon, promptly dropped her facade, breaking out in pealing fits of giggles. Anon laughed along with her.

“Ahh...” she sighed, glancing back down again. The two had unintentionally rubbed against each other. A spike of pleasure flared anew, returning their attention to how hot and eager the two of them were for this to continue.

Pinkie rubbed herself on Anon, deliberately this time. He hardened back up to his full capacity, fingers sinking into her soft hips, pressing her harder down upon him.

It dawned on Pinkie she’d never taken up this position before, at least not with stallions. Not when it came to the main event. Their dicks didn’t ‘bend’ the right way. With Anon’s unique body type, she could simply pop it in and ride him like a unicycle.

And that’s precisely what she planned to do.

She shuffled slightly up the bed, bringing her chest to chest with Anon. Carefully, she lifted her hips, using the narrow space between their bodies to get a good sense of the angle needed to pop in his raging hard on.

Only now did Pinkie realize she’d need to reach back and guide it in, but Anon’s taller, lankier frame meant her reach fell short of the task. Luckily, he seemed to follow her intention, reaching out with his longer arm, grabbing his dick and angling it to her entrance.

Well, to where he thought it was. After a few nudges from Pinkie—tracing it up and down her cunny and sending pleasant shivers up her spine—it was now properly positioned to enter her. She carefully eased down, wanting to savor the moment.

Phinkie groaned softly. Anon’s dick stretched her walls, slowly plunging deeper, deeper within her depths until, finally, he at last hilted inside her.

She let out a breath, sighing in contentment. Anon’s dick filled up her marehood in a manner most satisfying—a delightful combination of tight, pleasurable and maybe the slightest bit painful. She shivered from the sensation, clenching down on him. Anon groaned, twitching within her. She shivered again, and on the loop repeated for the next several beats.

Looking to her lover, Pinkie noted the way his lips were drawn to a thin line; to the way his eyes were shut tight, his face a mask of concentration. She’d seen this look before on stallions; a valiant (if sometimes futile) attempt to not cum right then and there. She’d have to pace herself going forward if she wanted to properly enjoy her first rut with the human. The first of many, hopefully.

Huh...

Only now did she realize her unique position in Equestrian history—the first ever pony to lay with an alien.

I wonder if this calls for a medal of some sort.

Probably not. Though maybe if she asked, Anon would give her a piping-hot pearl necklace...

No, of course not. That’d be silly. Whatever cum he had to give should obviously go somewhere inside her. She briefly toyed with the idea of taking his load deep down her throat, but... no. She’d much rather he fill up her aching marehood.

“Haa,” Pinkie sighed. She’d shifted her hips, leaning forward a bit, plunging a bit deeper down his length.

For his part, Anon seemed eager to get started. He grabbed onto her legs, right atop her Cutie Marks, and slightly lifted her up. Pinkie clenched down on him, her marehood squeezing him, as though refusing to let him leave. With another steady, deliberate motion, he eased Pinkie back down; his own hips thrusting upward to hilt himself even deeper within her.

Pinkie moaned, shivering. While the position itself may have been novel to her, she still had a good grasp on knowledge of the bedroom. Following Anon’s example, she leaned forward a bit, supporting herself by placing both hooves on his chest. She mirrored his actions, lifting her hips. Her marehood greedily clamped down on him, eager to be filled up anew. Concentrating, Pinkie continued to lift her hips, more and more, until only the tip remained inside and, with one steady (albeit slightly clumsy) motion, eased herself down, plunging him deep inside her.

They settled into a rhythm.

Pinkie quickly realized this new position afforded her a high measure of control. Seeing as they were usually the ones topping, it was the stallions who for the most part set the pace of their encounters. But in this position, with her new partner, Pinkie took to the role with the kind of highly enthusiastic, energetic, slightly manic eagerness only she could muster.

She lifted her hips, plunging back down again, her breaths coming heavier and heavier, and not just from the pleasure alone. This was hard work! Somepony like Twilight or Fluttershy would’ve definitely had a harder time with this position, but Pinkie herself was no stranger to zipping and running around town, or bouncing all over the place. The soft, supple poundage in her legs and flanks hid more than their fair share of toned muscle.

Again she repeated the action, the motions themselves quickly coming easier, more efficient to her. Anon certainly seemed to appreciate her efforts. Pinkie milked him in a manner most proficient. He grabbed onto her hips, helping to lift and slam her back down. Pinkie found herself staring. He’d done away with the shirt by this point, and the exertion of their rut meant his body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Pinkie watched his arms, his chest; the way his musculature bulged and rippled.

She breathed deeply, savoring his natural musk. She was close. Pinkie knew she should pace herself. They’d been going at it for at least a couple of minutes now, and Anon was surely at his wits end, trying not to finish then and there. Despite this, her body acted as though with a will of its own. She milked him harder; slammed her hips down, desperate to take in more of his hot, hard cock inside. Her actions grew to a fever pitch, eyes half-lidded as she bounced up and down, seemingly unable to or choosing to ignore the protests of her burning muscles.

Pinkie grew hotter. She could feel the looming orgasm building, bubbling beneath the surface, held back only by a gossamer-thin veil of restraint. Her eyes were closed, her teeth bared, her muzzle crinkled in a mixture of strain and rapture; breaths coming out in shaky puffs through clenched teeth.

Any trace of technique or control had well and truly left her by this point. Desperate, she slammed her hips down upon Anon, again and again. He’d lasted so long. Much longer than she anticipated. She thought for sure he’d finish long before this—before her, even.

Pinkie didn’t mind the idea too much, though. Sex was nice. Almost as nice as the tired, beaming smiles on her partners’ faces once they had their fun. Pinkie hoped to see one on Anon for some time now, and given how he’d gone so long without such relief; how she’d been the one to pop his interspecies cherry, Pinkie wouldn’t begrudge him finishing before her. But he didn’t! In fact, Pinkie felt his hand retreat from her flank making a steady path straight to her marehood. His finger pressed and rubbed her bright pink clit.

Pinkie’s whole body went rigid as a mass deluge of pure, rapturous bliss shot through her. She slammed her hips down one last time, her back arched. Her simmering climax burst forth like a roaring wave, shattering its flimsy veneer of restraint. It was all too much for Pinkie, and her mouth opened to the heavens to let loose a piercing, primal scream of rapture. A dazzling array of bright, flashing colors popped in her vision, like dozens of firecrackers going off at once and through it all, her body remained tense, rigid, riding out crashing wave after crashing wave of shuddering, shivering, pent-up orgasmic bliss.

It was almost better than cake... no, cupcakes, even.

Pinkie couldn’t be sure who came first, her or Anon, but she was definitely the last to finish. She rode out her orgasm for what felt like a small eternity, her tense, shivering body gradually relaxing with each passing wave of the climax. Things went fuzzy for a while, but she could at least make out that at some point, she plopped down atop Anon, her spent body and tired muscles twitching periodically even as she rose and fell in tandem with his breathing.

She hummed in contentment as his fingers idly scratched up and down her back.

“So,” His voice sounded strangely faint and far away to her ears. “How was that for you?”

With more than a little effort, Pinkie shook off the exhaustion and the sudden, overwhelming urge to take a nap. She blinked blearily, looking up to Anon. With a small, dazed smile, Pinkie giggled, shuffling further up his body. Cupping his face in her hooves, Pinkie promptly leaned in and shoved her tongue down his throat. Taken aback by the sudden ferocity of the messy kiss, Anon tried in vain to match her tongue with his own.

When she finally pulled out (accompanied by a loud pop), Pinkie leaned in and panted next to his ear.

“That. Was. Incredible.”

“Better than... cupcakes?”

Pinkie scoffed, affixing Anon with an unimpressed look.

“It wasn’t that incredible.”

In spite of herself, Pinkie broke the act, bringing a hoof up to her lips to stem the tide of giggles that spilled forth. Anon chuckled along with her.

Letting out a prolonged, content, luxurious sigh, Pinkie laid back down on Anon, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Post-rutting cuddles were great. They filled Pinkie with a warm, fuzzy sort of happiness. Such a shame not every stallion was into them. Luckily for Pinkie, Anon gladly indulged her. Her eyes fluttered and she groaned happily as those nimble fingers of his scratched behind her ear, and bit down her giggles as with his other hand trailed the sides of her belly.

It didn’t get much better than this, she thought idly. A hard, thorough rutting and a warm body to snuggle and keep her company, however briefly. He’d surely want to leave soon, as stallions always did. But Pinkie couldn’t complain. Hay, she’d probably even indulge in a short power nap after this. How long had it been since she even took a nap? She couldn’t remember, but it had definitely been a while.

Regardless, she decided to enjoy the moment and yet... yet something was missing. But what? Pinkie’s brow knitted in thought. Unable to come up with anything, she pushed away the thought, and her musings shifted to more mundane matters—to what she’d have to do once Anon left. Not much, actually. She’d have to go down to the kitchen at some point and prep a few things for the shop’s late opening tomorrow. Other than that, she had the whole day to do as she pleased. Of course, before any of that happened (and once Anon left) she’d have to freshen up a bit and clean his spunk out of her...

Wait a minute...

Pinkie squeezed her back legs together. Anon had slipped out of her marehood at some point and now that she thought about it, she hadn’t felt him cum inside her. Frowning, she lifted herself up (her back end wobbling slightly) and glanced down between the space of their bodies. Some of it should’ve been leaking out of her by this point but... nope. Nothing, zip, nada. As if to drive the point forward, Anon’s dick was still standing, mostly tall.

Meeting Anon’s questioning gaze, Pinkie said,

“You didn’t finish?”

Anon hesitated at the near accusatory tone.

“Uh, no?”

Pinkie opened her mouth, closed it. Then again.

“Why?”

Before he could answer, Pinkie reached into her mane and pulled out an orange, ticking clock; then peered at it closely. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Placing it back where she found it, Pinkie looked down at Anon, her features unusually blank.

“Anon?”

“...Yeah?”

“We did it for four minutes.”

“Uhh... cool?”

Pinkie shook her head.

“You lasted four minutes.”

“Again... cool?”

“Four. Minutes.”

Before he could answer, Pinkie cut him off.

“And you didn’t cum.”

“I mean...”

“Didn’t you like it? Wasn’t it good for you? If you tell me what you like we can try again.”

A look of dawning realization settled over Anon, and he held up a hand.

“Hang on, hang on,” he said. “Pinkie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just the opposite, actually. You were great.”

“So why didn’t you...”

Anon rubbed the back of his head, smiling ruefully.

“Well, you know,” he waved his hand vaguely. “I did have that thing with Rarity earlier today.”

She cocked her head, frowning.

“So?”

Anon seemed to be at a loss for words.

“So I’m not sure how things work here,” he said slowly, weighing his words. “But usually, after a man cums for the first time, he can last longer the second time around. Y-you know, assuming they both happen around the same time.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Pinkie muttered. “What’s a man?”

“...What?”

“Man. What is that?”

“Uh... me?”

“I thought you’re a human.”

Anon snorted, chuckling.

“Man’s the term for a human male. You know, like stallion for a male pony.”

“Oh.” Pinkie’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ohhh...” With this new information, she replayed in her mind the given information. “So it’s not that you didn’t like it. Right?”

“Right.”

Pinkie gulped. “So... so you’re saying...” It couldn’t possibly be that, could it? It almost sounded too good to be true. “You’re saying that... it was over too soon.”

Anon smiled apologetically.

“Kinda.”

Pinkie nodded, digesting the new information.

“Anon?”

“Hm?”

“How long do mans usually last?”

Anon chuckled.

“Men, Pinkie. Man for singular, men for plural. And... I really can’t give you a straight answer. It’s all over the place. Some guys are quick shots; they last maybe a minute. Others can go as much as thirty, maybe more.” He took a moment to enjoy Pinkie’s choked, sputtering noises. “The majority of men are somewhere in between, though I'd bet most don’t break past the ten-minute mark.”

Pinkie reached up with a shaky hoof to wipe the beaded sweat from her brow.

“S-so, um, how long do you usually last?”

“No idea.”

“Huh?”

He shrugged.

“Well, it has been a while. I might last longer than I did before or maybe less. I’d have to conduct a series of, uh, tests to give you a proper answer.”

Pinkie blinked, momentarily confused. Then the gears in her brain clanked and turned as she fully processed the meaning of his words. Glancing back, she noted the way Mr. Pinkums, who’d looked a bit droopy not moments ago, steadily hardened back to its full glory. She inhaled. Anon’s musk, though mellowed out since her shattering climax, increased in potency. With his hands he stroked her legs, right beneath her Cutie Marks.

Momentarily thinking she’d gone into some kind of orgasmically induced coma, Pinkie nearly slapped herself with her hoof. Her incipient effort was dashed when Anon rose himself to a seated position. It caused Pinkie to slide back and once again she found her cunny pressed to his dick. Still hot, still hard. And pink.

“So,” Anon said. “You mind if I take it from here?”

Pinkie gawped, but then mumbled,

“O-okie dokie.” She gulped. “Lokie.”

Anon chuckled.

“You know, I’ve kinda wondered how it’s like for you guys. Doing it pony style. Let’s try it that way.”

Still somewhat dazed, Pinkie didn’t resist when Anon turned her around, nor did she protest when he placed his hand atop her withers and (more than a bit forcefully) pushed her down onto the mattress, leaving her back half raised and proudly on display.

Numbly glancing back, Pinkie watched as Anon lined himself up with her entrance, rubbing his dick around her puffy outer lips.

Oh. My. GOSH!

She couldn’t deny it anymore. It wasn’t a coma, nor a dream. It was real. And it was happening!

“W-wait.”

Anon looked up.

“Hm?”

“Go,” she nearly choked. “Go up. A bit.”

Anon blinked in confusion. She could see a protest or a question on the tip of his tongue, but something in her eyes must have compelled him from voicing it. Wordlessly, he traced his dick up her marehood.

“Higher,” she breathed.

He did so again.

“Higher.” The words came as a squeaky whine.

Anon smirked. The tip of his dick now pressed against her puffy ponut. Pinkie bit her lip as Anon traced around it with his dick, getting it well and lubed up.

“Pinkie.” His words came faint against the pounding blood in her ears. “I’m putting it in now.”

She dared not breathe as Anon applied a bit of pressure, testing. His tip stretched the puckered entrance until, with near agonizing deliberation, it slowly went in. Pinkie squirmed as it steadily entered her, stretching more and more of the tight, puckered tunnel. Her marehood, so fulfilled and sated not moments ago, now winked eagerly, dripping onto her sheets.

But Anon then stopped.

“Pinkie,” he groaned. “You’re so tight.”

She let out a small, breathy laugh, looking over her withers.

“Are you sure... mmph... sure you’re not just big?”

“Eh. Maybe. I don’t exactly go around looking at stallion dongs. Couldn’t tell ya.”

“Trust me, Nonon,” she giggled. “You’ll make lotsa mares happy with it.”

Feeling a bit daring, Pinkie tensed, squeezing his cock. Then, with not an inconsiderable application of calculated control, slammed her hips backward onto him, causing Anon to nearly fall back, and burying the full length of his hot, hard cock inside her.

Pinkie nearly screamed in rapture. Anon, whose hands had been holding onto her hips, now clenched painfully. His eyes squeezed shut, his features twisted in agonizing pleasure.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned in one continuous stream.

“But first,” she continued, panting. “Pinkie gets her dibs.”

“Oh, you little...” Anon muttered, trying (and failing) to try and get miffed at her. Bit hard to do so when he was buried balls deep inside her tight, near unbearably hot tunnel. Whatever retort must have been on the tip of his tongue went limp, then dead, fixing Pinkie instead with a reproachful look.

All the better, Pinkie thought. A little motivation to get him a bit rough for the second round.

“I’m gonna start now, Pinks.”

As if to give her a taste for what’s to come, he grabbed her near the dock of her tail, roughly pulling her closer to him, keeping her in place. Her marehood dripped with excitement.

“Wait,” she said, reaching into her mane and pulling out the orange clock from before. Shaking her head, Pinkie put it back in, rummaging until she found what she’d been looking for—a chrome-plated digital stopwatch. “Alright. Aaand...” With a beep, the stopwatch came to life, numbers running along its face.

“Go!”

Author's Note

Change of plans. Again. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. I keep trying to maintain the clop at a reasonable length and bring it to a satisfying conclusion, but the story kinda just says fuck you to my attempts and does what it wants

So yeah. It's a four-parter now. I haven't heard any of you guys complain so I'll just assume you're okay with these piecemeal chapters. That said I'm... pretty sure next chapter will be the last. We'll see.

Until next time.