Author's Note

Continues directly after the last chapter; no additional reading necessary.

Under the Waves

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You raise an eyebrow down at Tempest, a few errant sparks leaving her horn from the nuking she just delivered to your beeping projection clock. Well, formerly beeping, anyhow.

“I guess hitting the snooze button is just too pedestrian?” you question with a deeply amused grin.

She grumbles in response, refusing to meet your gaze and instead rubbing her cheek against your chest for the umpteenth time now.

“Fair enough,” you laugh.

It’s now been ten minutes since you told yourself you’d only spend five more minutes in bed, petting and scratching Tempest all the while. But at this point, even she was starting to lose interest in being pampered like this. Still, it was a good run.

“Well,” you hum, idly stroking her neck, her mane running through your fingers, “About time we got up, methinks.”

“Yeah,” she semi-reluctantly admits, seriousness beginning to creep into her expression and tone. “Y-yes. I-I’ve wasted enough time here.”

“Aww, c’mon! Time spent with me is time that’s never wasted, Tempie!”

“I beg to differ,” she grumbles.

Your eyes lid and your smirk turns suggestive. “Yeah? Like you begged last night?”

Her eyes widen briefly, her features twisting into a teeth-bared scowl soon afterwards.

“Tell anypony about last night, and they’ll never find your body,” she hissed, ears flattened and pink tinting her cheeks as she glares at you with narrowed eyes. “Do you understand?”

“Sheesh, will you settle down, babe?” She emits a semi-pleased grunt when you knead her shoulders, but doesn’t stop glaring. “I’m a consummate master at keeping secrets!”

“You’d better be,” she huffs, averting her eyes in adorable fashion. “A-and stop calling me that.”

“In public? Sure. Whatever makes ‘ya look tough.” You fix her with that +2 smirk of smuggery. “In private? No chance in hell, cutie pie.”

“Do...?” Through her exasperated blushing, she pulls herself up just enough to loom over your head, both front hooves planted on your shoulders. “Do you want me to kill you?”

“I want you to try, babe.” No retreat. No surrender.

She lets out a curt, frustrated snort. “F-forget this. I’m leaving.”

She sure tries to, but only gets as far as climbing off of you and turning to face the door before she stops with a small squeak, held fast by your hand grabbing hold of her tail.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you hum, a shit-eating grin playing across your lips.

“Far away from you,” she huffs, glaring back at you. “Let go of me!”

You raise an eyebrow. Your eyes unlock from hers and drift towards her rump. Your grin becomes toothy and knowing as you lift her tail a little to observe the damage, and it only grows wider when you knowingly flick your eyes back to her a couple of times, realization dawning on her face along with a look of muted horror and embarrassment.

“H-how bad is it?” she murmurs, one of her hindlegs lifting in that impossibly adorable fashion.

“If you think it looks bad, just imagine the smell,” you chuckle, a note of pride in your tone.

Breaking up the sticky carnal warzone that was her hindquarters was a quick little wink, her vaguely heart-shaped nub poking out like a soldier from the trenches. And it brought with it a small droplet of your mixed fluids, still moisturized by virtue of taking shelter in her wondrous depths, clinging to her vulva before a follow-up wink added enough extra liquid for the drop to fall onto the ruined bedsheets beneath her.

“Oh, no,” she murmurs, reflexively trying to pin her tail down to cover her mare bits. “I-I can’t go out like this!”

“Not an exhibitionist, I take it?” you hum.

“Shut up! This is serious!”

“So was I.” With a light chuckle, you push yourself up until you’re sitting upright. “Aww, don’t stress, babe. There’s an easy solution for this.”

She exhales. “Your shower. Just... let me go, and I’ll handle this.”

“No fuckin’ chance, Tempie.” She lets out a small gasp when your free hand comes up to palm her cutie mark, quickly shifting to squeezing her rump.

“Y-you can’t be serious!” She couldn’t decide if she was into the idea of a round 2, or just hated it. “Sweet Celestia, you’re insatiable!”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“Argh!” She tries in vain to pull away from you, stopped once again by your tail-pulling hand. “No, no! Once was enough for me! Just let me clean up and leave!”

“I was getting to that, Jesus. Settle down.” With a playful roll of your eyes, and a corresponding annoyed snort from her, you continue. “It’s like you don’t want me to tell you the secret of how I won last night.”

There we go. Now she’s paying attention.

“What secret?” she demands with narrowed eyes.

“C’mon, you really thought I recovered that fast on my own last night? Get real.” You laugh. “I’m good, but I’m not a miracle worker. I used some of my... secret stash to recover nice n’ quick.”

“Of course you have some secret way to recover fast,” she huffs.

“Mighty important, too, seeing how we set out to pillage n’ plunder tomorrow.”

A-hah, now you really have her attention.

“Anon,” she begins, a dangerous edge to her voice. “You’d better be in a sharing mood, because so help me—!”

“Babe, I was gonna share it from the get-go.” You waggle your eyebrows at her. “And throw in plenty of TLC while I’m at it.”

A truly impressive annoyed sigh escapes her as she shuffles in place slightly. “You won’t share it until you’ve had your way with me again, will you?”

“You make it sound so transactional, Tempie.” Her ears lower a little upon seeing your lascivious smirk. “You needed that roll in the hay bad, and we both know it.”

She looks away with a bright red blush, and you could see her biting her lip. “B-be that as it may, I-I don’t want to do this again.”

“Liar.”

She winks more forcefully against the open air.

“C’mon, Tempie. We’re way past the point of doing this cutesy denial shit. You loved getting pounded like that. And for my part, I loved pounding you in turn. And frankly, a smokin’ hot tamale like you deserves that kind of lovin’, wouldn’t you agree?”

One of her front forelegs joins the hindleg in lifting up in similarly adorable fashion. She still won’t meet your gaze.

“You want more. I want more. And I’d love to make you feel that good for a second time.”

Another forceful wink follows your words, coupled with her swallowing dry.

“So how about it, Tempie? We head to my tub, wash up for a bit, make a little love, and relax for a beat. And that’s with the extra TLC I promised ‘ya. You get what you want, I get what I want. A nice, mutually beneficial arrangement. And a fun one, at that! Not a bad deal, huh?”

Desire and practicality wars with her stubborn pride in her eyes and expression. At one point, she screws her eyes shut and lightly grits her teeth as she has her internal debate. But eventually—fortunately—she caves.

derpi 1480469 // poner 1480469 // twi 1168644 // pony 577135

“F-fine.” Both her foreleg and hindleg raise even higher in that adorable pony way as she looks back at you with half-opened eyes, caught between reluctant, embarrassed, and needy. “Y-you win this time.”

A rapid series of winks accompanies her answer, and you smile at both the sight and said answer.

“Attagirl,” you chuckle.

You release her tail and flank, and she’s quick to hop down off of the bed, staying put as she waits for you to stand up yourself. You only pause to stretch, savouring all the nice little cracks and pops.

“Sweet Celestia, what am I doing?” she groans despondently. “I can’t believe I just agreed to this!”

“Strange bedfellows indeed, eh?” You pat her flank with a cheeky smile before beginning your walk. “C’mon.”

Grumbling under her breath, she follows after you as you make your way to the bathroom. But you don’t hear the telltale sounds of hooves clopping against tile once you enter, prompting you to look back and catch sight of Tempest looking at your amazing bathroom with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“You... you use this?” she murmurs, mouth slightly agape.

“Oh right, you’ve never seen this part’a my place before, huh?” You smile back at her, shooting her a wink. “Not quite big enough to play baseball in, but it does have the king-sized tub big enough for ten-plus-me.”

As the sight settles in, and she remembers why she’s here, she starts to look downright indignant as she steps inside, shutting the door behind her. “How did you even get all of this?”

You shrug. “Stole most of it from Mt. Aris. From Queen Novo’s place in particular.” A small cackle. “Now that was a fun invasion. You should’ve been there!”

“Could’ve sworn that one failed.”

“I’ll admit, they did get away with their pearl. But it wouldn’t have worked out for the King anyways.” You turn the taps on at full tilt, flicking on the automatic soap dispenser right next to it to get the water foamy and ready for a nice deep clean. You beckon her over with two fingers. “Hop in.”

Slowly and cautiously, she trots over towards the bath, using the pony-sized steps—hippogriff-sized, really—that you never used to get inside, her hooves splashing into the growing pool of water. She stands there facing towards you as the tub fills, refusing to meet your eyes while a light pink tint colours her cheeks, her tail flicking every now and then.

“S-so. Uh.” Jesus Christ she’s adorable when she’s nervous like this. “H-how are we doing this?”

“First, we’re cleaning up.” You give a semi-faux-grimace as you lightly scratch your gross, sticky nuts. “I know I’m not the only one who wants this shit off of me.”

“No kidding.”

You shut the taps and soap off once the water reaches about two-thirds up your ankle in depth, reaching over the bath to grab the brushes, sponges, and small buckets you’d need. You don’t, however, bring out the shampoo for her: that can come once the regen soak happens. Right now, you just wanted to make a first pass, and clean most of the gross shit off right now so you weren’t marinading in it during the soak.

With cleaning shit in hand, the bathing begins in earnest. You, of course, start with Tempest. She was obviously reluctant to let you clean her off, but all protests vanished once you started. She laid down in the water, immersing half of her body into it. Where the water couldn’t reach, you bucketed it on up to where it needed to be, starting with her barrel and working up to her head. In typical adorable Tempest fashion, she tried to stifle her coos as much as possible when you started scrubbing her down. Already, a layer of dirt and other nastiness was coming out of her coat: a very good start. Once you finished with her head, hosing it off with the pull-out showerhead to keep the soap out of her eyes, she stands up on your request, letting you work on her underside next, starting with her legs. She, of course, tensed up a bit when you got to her hindquarters last, but relaxed when all you did was scrub her flanks and sponge clean her mare bits. Though the occasional winking told you she wouldn’t have minded a bit more than just cleaning, even if she’d have vehemently denied it in that adorable tsundere kind of way.

Patience, boner. Your time is soon. Very soon.

Once she was hosed off, you started on yourself next. As expected, she had no desire to reciprocate the bathing, only occasionally giving you the showerhead when you asked for it. But she did look awfully hard when you got to cleaning your man bits.

“See anything you like?” you remark oh-so-smugly, not looking away from your work.

You hear her turn away with a small huff more than you see it from the corner of your eye. “Sh-shut up.”

One of the bath’s other amazing features kicks in: the magic heater crystals. They radiate like Earthling-issue electric quartz units, keeping the two of you nice, warm, and shiver-free as you both stand soaking wet in the shallow water. Have you mentioned yet how much you love this tub? Because you fucking love this tub.

“W-well?” Tempest kept looking away as she spoke in a tone more nervous than it was annoyed, her foreleg rubbing the other one in similarly nervous fashion all the while. “Wh-what now?”

“What now, indeed?” you hum mischievously. “What do you want to do now, babe?”

“S-stop calling me that.”

“No.”

“Tailhole,” she mutters.

Her eyes flick back to you. More specifically, your crotch. Her eyes flick between Nonny Jr. and not Nonny Jr. several times before she starts gazing at your package outright, an aroused blush tinting her cheeks as her tail flicks and her clitoris begins winking out again, making it’s proper appearance. In response to the peep show, your boner steadily rises to full mast, making her swallow dry when it reaches it’s gently twitching apex.

“A-are we doing this, or not?” she huffs.

You smirk at her. “Are we?”

She half-groans, half-grumbles. “Don’t play these stupid games, Anon!” she huffs, an undercurrent of need in her voice. “I already said we were going to do this!”

Said smirk widens. “Do what, babe?”

She grumbles under her breath, knowing you’re fully intent on fucking with her a bit before actually fucking her. “F-fine. Let me spell it out for you.”

Fully turning her rear towards you, Tempest slowly and somewhat nervously presents herself to you. Her hindlegs spread apart and tense, locking into place, ready to take a pounding. Her tail was well and truly out of the way. Her marehood was starting to leak, her still-winking nub greatly aiding the egress of her fluids. And though she tried not to lower the front of her body, the position made it inevitable that she’d ‘kneel’ at least a little bit.

“Get over here,” she breathes, “And rut me already.”

Well, that’s about as unambiguous as invitations go, ain’t it?

“All right, Tempie,” you chuckle, striding through the water towards her. “I get the message.”

You kneel down behind her once you’re close enough, reaching just about the right height to plow her without needing to fetch something for her to stand on. Your hands are the first thing to make contact with that delectable derrière of hers, softly kneading her cutie marks and drawing a small hum out of her. Your dick comes up next, and she shivers as it prods against her rump, biting back a small whine even as it completely misses it’s mark. Her clit winks rapidly shortly after feeling it’s missed landing, as if beckoning it over. Smiling, you drag your tip along her rump and towards her honeypot, your refusal to use your hands to aid alignment making it a lot more imprecise on purpose, much to Tempest’s not-so-hidden chagrin. Eventually, however, head and nub finally come together, sharing a nice, wet kiss with one another. Tempest groans at the contact, insistently pushing her rump out just a little further.

“Enough,” she croaks. “J-just put it in, already.”

You hum your assent, gently pressing your head against her entrance for a moment, as if looking for the right spot to enter. Little did she know, however, you weren’t done fucking with her yet. She tenses a little more when she feels you pull back and prod her a few more times, as if getting ready to take the plunge instead of just spearing her like before. Finally, you pull back and thrust forward...

“Aaaaah...!”

And completely miss her marehood, sliding along her underbelly and sandwiching your dick between her teats as her rump nestles against your belly.

“Actually,” you hum, your shit-eating grin practically audible at this point, “There was something else I wanted to ask first.”

“Wha... what are you doing?!” Oh, she did not like getting blue-beaned like that. “Stop teasing me, you bastard!”

“I’m not teasing, I’m serious!” You protest very unconvincingly.

“Aaaaaugh! I already said yes!” she groaned, winking against your lower stomach. “Or is that not enough for you?”

“Mmmmm...” You shift to rubbing her legs and thighs, grinning down at her. “Did’ja enjoy last night, babe?”

“Anon, you tailhole!” she hisses, grinding her rump against you. “Will you just rut me already?!”

“Yeah, yeah, in a moment. Once you answer my—”

“Yes!” she finally admits. “Yes, I liked it, okay?! I hate that I liked it, but I did! There! Are you done?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You hated liking it?”

Her groan of frustration was mixed in with a needy whine. “Anon, please.”

Rolling your eyes, one of your rubbing hands slides along her rump, in between your ongoing bump-n’-grind, and finds her marehood. The middle finger glides between her folds and quickly zeroes in on her nub, and she lets out a shaky little gasp when you start rubbing it in circles. “Partial credit,” you hum. “C’mon, let’s hear it.”

“You!” she blurts, continuing the admission train. “It’s because it was you! Aaagh, I hate you so much! You weren’t supposed to beat me in that fight! You weren’t supposed to beat me again! You weren’t...” She pauses for a moment, sniffling a bit. When she looks back at you, her eyes were a bit misty. “You weren’t supposed to make me feel so good. So wanted. So special.”

Aawwww. Your touching stops upon hearing those words.

She turns her head away, getting a grip on herself again. The sigh that leaves her sounds more like an embittered laugh. “Sweet Celestia, what a joke. Nopony even gives me the time of day. All my old coltfriends were awful ponies. And then there’s you, the evil tailhole. You’re not even a pony. And you still make me feel like a million bits, even when you force yourself on me.” Another sniffle. “I just know they’d all laugh at me for this.”

“Let ‘em laugh,” you chuckle. “We’ll see who’s laughing once we take over Equestria.”

Despite her state, she manages a small laugh. If there was a way to frame such amazing sounds on your wall, you’d have done it in triplicate by now. “W-were you trying to make me feel better?”

You smirk. “Did it work?”

A small bark of saddened yet cathartic laughter escapes her. “Y-yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Then my job is half-done!” you chirp.

There’s that familiar annoyed hum. The grinding and winking followed soon after, and her next hum had a needy, erotic undertone to match. “Anon, please. D-don’t make me wait anymore.”

With a self-satisfied hum, you finally pull away from her, your little trooper momentarily saddened by his departure from Casa de Teata. He changes his tune, however, once he’s rubbing and prodding against Tempest’s folds for the second time, her eager little nub already peppering Jr’s head with kisses and guiding it into place.

“Yesss...” she coos. “Finally...”

Yeah, you agree: she’s waited long enough. Pausing only to let her fully present and brace her hindlegs, you begin your push inside of her, thoroughly enjoying the sensations and sounds of your purple partner. Your hips connect after only a second and change, and her body was quick to reward you again with that familiar, wonderful clench.

Man, you could get used to this.

“Aaaah... Hah...” Especially those moans of hers. Sweet music to your ears. “Ha-hey, A-Anon?”

“Nngh, yeah?”

“Duh-don’t hold back, please. J-just... ahn... r-rut me.”

No man with a pulse can resist an invitation like that. With a sensual, almost threatening chuckle, your hands find their way back to her thighs, grabbing hold for what’s to come. Tempest was already tightening up in anticipation.

“Your wish is my command,” you growl.

She only manages a single breathy bark of laughter before the thrusting begins in earnest, making her moan out loud again. Despite her request, you do start off a little slower, getting a brief feel for those silky, muscular insides of hers again before your speed would drown the finer details out. You only need a couple of seconds for that, though, and she certainly didn’t complain either way.

Tempest’s forelegs stretch forward further as she lowers her front half even more, presenting more of that amazing rump of hers to you. Her head lowers between said forelegs in turn, and she pants and vocalizes her pleasure all the while. The main thing bracing her against you were her hindlegs, but even by themselves, they were plenty strong enough to take you. Even though you’ve really only just started, the change in position to something more natural for a pony revealed to you a rising star of the performance: her clit. That nub of hers slid along the underside of your cock, as if perfectly aligned with the ridge of your urethra: riding it like a train on a track. With every hilt and stir you delivered to her, it winked out to give your nuts a lascivious, lingering kiss: like it was asking your boys to put in the overtime and work up a nice, extra large load for her.

Still prefer takin’ her missionary, but fuck was pony style a close second.

“Aaahn... Haaa-oooooh... Y-yesssss... Aaaaaah... Nngh, r-right there... Oooooohh...!”

Every technique and sensitive spot you’d learned about the last night applied here: she still loved getting ground against and stirred up, she still loved your tip kissing her innermost barrier, and she still loved it when you brushed against that extra-sensitive spot of hers, even if it was a bit trickier to reach from this angle and position. In turn, every squeeze and clench she gave back was just as good as it was before. To your delight, she developed her own way of periodically rewarding you: every so often, she’d reciprocate one of your hilting mix-ups with a prolonged, rippling squeeze, recreating the milking sensation that came naturally from her own orgasms. The cherry on top was the mischievous little smirk she’d give you every time she did it: a wordless tease, and an invitation to keep pounding her for more squeezes just like it, knowing full well how pleasant and addictive they were.

You can’t even be mad. Just last night, she was totally unsure of her own sexual prowess: hardly surprising, given how shit her previous partners obviously were. Now that you were showing her what a good time really was, she was really starting to come into it.

That wasn’t all she was coming into, though. The deeper, more ragged breaths she was making, combined with her tighter, more insistent squeezing, heralded her approaching climax. Issue is, as great as she’s been so far, you’re not as close as she is: not enough to guarantee the simultaneous finish that you’d prefer.

“Aaaaah! Aaah, aaaaaah, haaaah, oooooooh, f-faster! Ooooh my gosh, keep going!”

Not one to deny her request, you pick up your pace, hurtling her even closer to the finish line and hoping it’d do the same for you, too.

“Haaah! Yes! Aa-aaaah, yesss, yes-yes-yes—Aaaaaahn! M-more!”

Dear God almighty she was pushing every damn button you had. The wet, lewd sounds of your intense lovemaking and the sugar-sweet sounds of her vocalizations rang out through the bathroom as you railed her full-force, giving her everything you had. You race towards your own finish line, grunting and groaning as you got closer, the speed and intensity doing wonders to accelerate your approach.

It all comes to a stop, however, when Tempest’s dam breaks first, her tunnel sealing you in and leaving you stranded just before the finish line.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

The rippling, milking ministrations of her passage tries it’s very best to extract the seed it was promised, but it’s still not enough, leaving you teetering on the very edge. Her fluids spurt forth from your connecting point, coating your groin, running in rivulets down both your legs and dripping into the bath water below. She ground roughly, desperately against you all the while, angled just so her clit could press as hard as it could against the underside of your cock, trying to feel it’s rhythmic, pulsing expansions as you shot your load in her. A load, sadly, that didn’t come. And she definitely noticed, too: especially as she came down from her high.

A questioning, slightly concerned look weaved into her delighted expression as she looked back at you. Her mouth opened, a question right on the tip of her tongue. But she stops short. She must have seen your tight, clenched expression for what it was: a warning sign of your near-release, bordering on denial. In that moment, a wicked little smile played across her lips, fresh hunger welling in her eyes.

Her inner muscles clamp right back down around you, preventing your escape. That hair-raising bedroom voice comes out in full force as she lets out a devious chuckle, especially at the tense grunt that came out of your mouth when she clenched.

“Such a gentlecolt,” she coos, “Letting me finish first.”

“Guh...!”

“What’s the matter?” A shuddering groan left your lips as she started milking your cock. Only for a second: not enough to finish you off, but enough to keep you on the edge. And she knew it. “Feeling left out?”

“Urgh! H-heh, so—Ah!” Another milking. “Ffffuck. Th-this your way of—Aaah!” And another. “G-getting me back, huh?”

“And what if it was?” She ground against you for this rippling clench, pressing her clit against you like she’d done before. Giving away to you how much she wanted this, too. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Hah-aaah!” Fuck, that one was well-timed. “Whoo. All right.” You grab her tail by the base and grind yourself against her as well, drawing a small coo of delight from her. “That how we’re playing?”

“Ooooh...” That teasing little smirk of hers was out in full force now, and you answer it with a strained yet still wicked grin.

Though you couldn’t thrust into her, you could still stir her up and grind against her. One of her forelegs lifts up as she moans, sighs, and shudders her approval at your actions, but that teasing little grin remained on her, and she kept up the periodic squeezes to keep you as close to the brink as she could. She winked insistently against you with each throb you made inside her, and she ground her clit harder against the ridge of your cock each time she felt a small pulse of pre travel down it’s length, briefly confusing it for the full ejaculate experience.

It was hard for her to keep the appearance up, however: she wanted you to bust in her bad, and you wanted to fill her even more.

“Aaaah... Ooooh...” She paused to bite her lip a little, giving you an especially protracted milking. “Ohhh gosh...”

“Rrgh...” You squeeze and knead her rump with your free hand, the other hand gripping her tail shifting so you can press your thumb against her dock. “Where... nngh... do you want it?”

“Haaah...” She clenched insistently at your words, winking in rapid succession. “Insiiide,” she moans.

That was it. The milking and winking was already on track to keep you edged again, but that fucking bedroom voice appealing to your primeval breeding instincts gave you that final push. Your groans and breathing become low and ragged and you start throbbing especially hard in her as you teeter past the point of no return, your teeth gritting and nuts pulling taut as that torturous pre-orgasmic wave of strained, almost painful pleasure washes over you.

She knew immediately what was happening, and acted accordingly. She shoved her rump against you as hard as she could, trying to get as much of you in her as possible. She clamped hard around you, trying to form as tight a seal as possible. And of course, she milked your length like there was no tomorrow and needily ground her nub against your ridge. Her body worked hard for you, eagerly beckoning and welcoming the seed it was denied before.

A strained groan hisses through your teeth as you fire the first blast inside her, bringing with it a wave of indescribable relief. Tempest cried out in surprise and delight when she felt the hard throb of cum firing through your length, and she emitted an unrestrained moan when she second jet fired into her next, intensifying her milking as much as she possibly could to get even more. And boy, did she ever get more.

Your mind is awash with a tsunami of dopamine and endorphins as you cum hard inside of her, all neurons and pleasure centres firing on all cylinders. While your thinking brain is distracted, your lizard brain feeds you with small mental images to fan your flames even more, rewarding your efforts. Images of Tempest laid out on your bed, cum leaking out of her overstuffed marehood. Images of her provocatively rubbing her belly as she looks up at you with lidded eyes and a little lip bite. Images of Tempest pregnant with your kids, beckoning you for another round.

It’s the latter images that become especially frequent as you ride out the latter half of your orgasm. Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine intense blasts of cum rocket out of you, direct depositing in Tempest’s more than welcoming depths, each pulse drawing a throaty little groan of delight from her. The intensity and volume falls off a cliff by shot ten, but she still clenches around you all the same, even after the final, dribbling eleventh shot into her. One, two, three empty throbs pass before she realizes you’re completely spent, and only then does her clenching let up.

The foreleg she’d previously raised splashes back down into the water, trading places with it’s partner as both tremble from the intense experience. Even though she hadn’t come close to cumming for a second time, she still thoroughly enjoyed feeling you finish inside of her. The smiling look of satisfaction on her face could class as a reward all unto itself.

You soften to around half-mast inside her by the time you’re fully back in the land of the living, with Tempest continuing to keep her eyes closed, still savouring how your load felt in her. At least, you’re pretty sure that’s what she was savouring. She stirs when both of your hands slide back to her rump and begin softly kneading her cutie marks, prompting her to look back at you. A twinge of annoyance worked into her satisfied look, before uncertainty and more than a little nervousness replaced it, making her look away with a nervous little lip bite.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Y-you were right. I needed that.”

Your turn to let out a pleasant sigh. “That, you did.” You flash her a small smile. “Enjoy yourself?”

She swallows dry, somewhat nervous about admitting the truth. “I... Y-yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Your chuckle is good-natured for once as you gently pat her flanks, right on the cutie marks. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Your half-softened cock finally pulls free from her with a soft, wet pop, glazed with your mixed fluids. A soft, almost disappointed groan leaves her when you finally pull out, and a small glob of white leaks down her labia and drips into the water below, joined by a few more when she winks against the open air, further coating her clit as it’s motions push more of your cum out of her.

You look on at the sight with a note of pride, and Tempest looks between you and her rump in turn, lifting her hindleg in that adorable pony way to get a better look at the carnal carnage. A light, rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she looked, her expression satisfied yet still somewhat embarrassed. Until her eyes widen with a light gasp, and she turns her head away with a small ‘humph’, lowers her leg, clears her throat, and blocks the view of her still-tantalizing rear with her tail.

“W-well. You’ve had your fun.” Hah. She’s trying so hard to go back to hating you, but just can’t quite hack it. “Now, you said you were going to share that secret?”

“And I will.” Grabbing a sponge, you wet it in the water below, and draw a half-hearted offended gasp from Tempest when your free hand grasps the base of her tail and lifts it out of the way. “Once we’re clean again.”

“S-seriously?!”

You raise an eyebrow in response, a shit-eating smirk playing across your lips. “You really wanna marinate in our juices while my secret weapon does it’s work?”

You don’t know what god decided to give ponies the ability to scrunch their noses like that, but it’s the cutest fucking thing in the entire world. She turns away with an annoyed huff, scrunching her nose just so. “F-fine.” Her tail relaxes and lifts of it’s own volition, freeing your hand up as you start sponging her hindquarters in earnest. “Spray me down while you’re back there.”

With an amused chuckle, said free hand grabs a showerhead and turns it on, hosing her amazing rear end down in short order. She angles her rump to try and catch the spray on her vulva, her opening occasionally winking out to expose yet more of your cum: no longer just oozing out of her, but actively being pushed out. Smirking at the sight, you change the angle to spray down her tail, parallel to her mare bits, making her groan in annoyance.

“Tailhole,” she mutters, looking back at you with an increasingly believable glare. “C-clean me out.”

“After I worked so hard to put all that in you?” The smug smirk was in full force now. “What for?”

“Because it’s distracting,” she hisses, pushing her rump out again. “Hurry up, already!”

A faux-disappointed sigh leaves you. “Your wish is my command.”

Her back arches and she gasps as you drop the sponge and plunge your index and middle fingers into her marehood, reaching up to the knuckles in less than a second.

“What are you doing?!” she barks, though not without a note of arousal.

“Cleaning you out?” She gasps and shudders as your fingers curl inside her, forming the shape of a scoop. “Duh?”

“Aah! N-no, no! Use the shower head!”

“Nope,” you chirp, your fingers popping out of her with a good amount of spunk in their grasp. “Douching ain’t good for ‘ya, babe. And I’ll be damned if I let a fine piece like this,”—your fingers plunge back into her, drawing another shuddering gasp from her—“end up with problems down the line.”

“Aaargh, you’re insufferable!”

“Guilty as charged,” you hum-chuckle, repeating your au naturel cleanout all the while. “And you love it.”

“One of these days, I’m going to kill you,” she grumbles.

“You’d miss me too much,” you counter.

“In your dreams.”

“I never let my dreams be dreams, babe.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Not now.” You scoop another load out of her. “Not later.” And another. “Not ever.” And another.

The annoyed groan she let out was heavily coloured by embarrassment and notes of arousal. “I hate you,” she croaks, absent any real vitriol.

“Love ‘ya too, babe,” you counter with a wink.

She falls silent as you finish cleaning her out, going back in for a couple extra pointless scoops just to spend that little bit of extra quality time. As much as your inner man liked the idea of seeing her walk around with your spunk leaking out of her, you understood the practicality of a deep-clean. Still, weird that she can actually feel it: you’re used to your same-species gal-pals only ever just feeling you cumming. Guess that’s another feather in the cap of marekind!

Once she was sprayed down and mostly clean again, it was your turn to sponge off and hose down your own bits. Tempest gazing sidelong at your package again definitely didn’t escape your notice, but this time you just pretend you didn’t see her ogling you. Finally, with both parties looking acceptable, you drain the nasty-ass water from the tub, hose down the sides, and start filling it back up, this time actually going above ankle depth this go-around. As you lean over the tub to fish around for your bath bombs, Tempest lays across one of the bench-like sections of the tub, tapping her hoof impatiently until the water reached her hooves and completely muffled her ability to tap.

“There we go,” you hum, spinning back to her with your prizes in arms. “You a dragon fruit fan, babe?”

“Are you going to show me the damn secret already?”

“This is the secret, babe.”

“I told you to stop... calling...?”

She trails off as you drop the bombs in, the regen one beginning it’s magic as soon as it hit the water. The flakes within and the matching gems in the walls start glowing blue, and even barely dissolved, you can already feel the effects kicking in. The water had begun to climb halfway up her body when you added the bombs, letting her bear witness to it’s power.

“Wh-whoa,” she gasps. “Th-that’s...! Ah-aaaaaaaaah...”

“See?” you sigh happily, sitting down and kicking back. “Told ‘ya to have patience, young grasshopper!”

She didn’t even acknowledge you, shuffling slightly closer to the convenient quadruped headrest near her little bench and resting her chin against it, comfortably keeping her breathing bits above water level. And speaking of water level, the taps automagically shut off once the bath was full, too: just another little extra thing that made you love this bath so very, very much.

Normally, you’d be content to just soak and relax for a while, as Tempest currently was with a tiny little smile. But you promised TLC, and Anonymous always delivers.

She hears you splashing through the water as you approach, but doesn’t react beyond keeping a semi-annoyed and curious eye on you. She tenses slightly when your underwater fingers brushes her similarly submerged body, but that tension soon evaporates once you start massaging her body in earnest. She lets out a stifled, teeth-gritted grunt as you start, but soon switches to letting out a pleased little sigh as her head relaxes and lays against her little headrest.

Stretching your muscles out in this tub was already a fantastic experience: you can only imagine what getting a massage in it feels like.

Well over halfway into your rub-down, however, you notice Tempest looking back at you with a worried but otherwise unreadable expression. You meet her eyes with a raised eyebrow, your motions continuing all the while.

“Something up?” you ask.

She opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was about to say, she apparently thought better of, turning away from you with a noticeable degree of nervousness. “N-nothing.”

“You sure?”

“No. D-don’t worry about it. Just... keep going. Please?”

Something was obviously eating at her, but you’re not likely to get an answer out of her right now. So with a small shrug, you do as she so politely asks. You weren’t timing your massage with any degree of accuracy, but you figure you must’ve spent, oh, ten minutes or so working on her? But hey, the results speak for themselves: you don’t think you’ve seen her this relaxed, well ever.

“How’re we feelin’?”

That pleased, relaxed little hum was all the answer you needed. Satisfied with your work, you push away and grab the sponge, lathering it up and giving your arms and head a once-over before ducking under the water to rinse it all off. Once you were back up, you reach over the ledge to grab a bottle of shampoo, bringing it over to Tempest. Once again, she heard you coming, but this time she lifted her head as you got close, lifting her tail out of the water as much as she could while also presenting her mane to you. All the prompting you need to pop the bottle and get to work, starting on that tail of hers. Amazingly, she only winked once during the tail wash, and only when you got a little too touchy with her dock.

She hummed with delight as you worked on her mane next, cooing softly when your fingers dig into her scalp. It’s because of that reaction that you ended up working on her head for far longer than necessary, effectively turning it into an impromptu petting session. Not that she minded.

“H-hey,” she grunted. “E-explain something—aah, to me.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“How did you—nngh... get away with hiding this from the Storm King?” she half-moans as you continue shampooing her mane.

“What do you mean, ‘hiding’? The big ugly dipshit only has eyes for the ‘gold and plunder’ kinda treasure.”

“Unbelievable. I could have—aah! Just taken things for myself this whole time?”

“Aw, don’t sweat it. Tell ya what, I’ll give you first dibs on the loot at Canterlot. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds—mmnh... long overdue.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”