Zebra Anthology

Moondancer’s eyes wandered back and forth between the striped behemoth’s broad, powerful chest and handsome face, unsure of which she found most attractive. She’d done it - she’d actually managed to coax a zebra out on a date - sure she’d ultimately resorted to one of those cheesy dating sites, almost expecting it to be some sort of a scam, yet she’d spent the better part of an hour sitting across from him. Grinding her thighs together, reminded for the umpteenth time of how drenched her panties were, she contentedly sighed.

“And what about yourself?” he asked, snapping her from her lecherous thoughts.

She blinked, unsure of what he’d been saying for the last few minutes. “Oh - uh - I’m nothing special,” she meekly replied, praying her nebulous answer would go unquestioned.

Ṣamani was the most beautiful stallion she’d ever seen, the sort of stud she’d fantasized about since she was a filly, yet he was not at all what she’d expected. Instead of some boorish, simple-minded beast of a hunk, he was well-mannered, articulate, and exceptionally intelligent - so intelligent that he may give her a run for her money in the academic arena. While she’d hoped for nothing more than to hook up with a beefcake and get fucked into a coma, something Zebricans were supposedly renown for, she found herself having an honest to goodness romantic date.

He peaked his brow and peered down at his chest. “Is there something on my shirt?”

“N…no,” she replied, her cheeks darkening. “I…I was just - um - it’s just that…”

Sweet Celestia, she couldn’t even think straight. After so many years of staying by her lonesome, only having her hands and her small armory of amorous sex-toys to satiate herself, simply being near the adonic stallion had reduced her to a muttering, fumbling, awkward mess. If the influx of Zebricans into Canterlot had never happened, she’d more than likely be spending the night by herself with a steamy romance novel, her favorite dildo, and maybe a small tub of ice cream - fortunately or unfortunately for her, the exotic entourage that had trickled into town had pushed her try and find a big, banded stallion for herself.

She couldn’t count how many stories she’d read about zebras’ sexual prowess, and she’d lost track of how many striped videos she’d furiously gotten off to, but it wasn’t until she’d heard that none other than her trusted friend, Twilight Sparkle, had begun dating a striped stud that she’d been forced to act. If the Princess of Friendship, one of the most socially awkward ponies she’d ever known, could bag a Zebrican, there shouldn’t be anything stopping her from finding an exotic coltfriend for herself. For all intents and purposes, she was a healthy young mare, a bit slim and with zero sexual experience, but there was nothing wrong with her - well, aside from being a hopeless virgin and having zero romantic experience, nothing overtly wrong.

“Just what?” he pressed.

The concerned and slightly frustrated look on his face demanded she reply, so she drew a breath and attempted to collect herself. “Just t…that I thought -”

“Let me guess,” he cut her off, pinching the bridge of his snout and shaking his head, “you presumed I would be some uneducated, oafish brute who’d whisk you off your feet, drag you into a back alley to have my way with you?”

Her jaw flapped uselessly, a cold pit formed in her stomach, and her blood ran cold. Had it been that obvious ~ had he figured out that she’d agreed to meet him just to get her v-card punched by a zebra? She squirmed and averted her gaze, keenly aware of how beet red she must be, and nodded. Given how perceptive he was, she saw no point in trying to lie to him - after all, it was bad enough that he’d discerned her intentions.

Pushing himself away from the table, retrieving and placing enough bits on the bill tray to cover their meal, he stood and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work…”

The moment he turned his back to her, panic struck her. She’d been so close, so insanely close to the hottest stallion she’d ever met, but she’d ended up fumbling at the finish line. As he walked away, trotting past various tables and toward the exit, she bolted to her feet and chased after him. Overwhelmed with shame, guilt, and a healthy dose of fear, realizing that she couldn’t let him get away without explaining herself, she chased him out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.

“Wait,” she bleated, catching his arm and futilely pulling on his sleeve, “let me explain.”

“What more do you have to say?” he pulled his arm away, peering down at her with a mixture of pity and disdain. “You assumed I was some -”

“I…I’ve never dated anyone before ~ ok?!” she blared. “I’ve spent my whole life reading books, studying, and practicing magic, but I -”

“You jest,” he interrupted, his eyes wide with surprise. “An attractive young mare like yourself has to have had at least a few coltfriends in her day.”

She opened her mouth to respond, yet his remark had rendered her mute. Attractive - he’d called her attractive! Not only had he casually complimented her look, but his shocked expression spoke to the fact that he was surprised to hear of nonexistent romantic life. Forcing herself to gather her thoughts, she straightened up, gave him a nod, and stared him dead in the eyes.

“It’s true” she mumbled, feeling a cold bead of sweat roll down her brow, “not like I’m proud of it though. I’m hopeless, awkward, and I’ll probably die a virgin, but -”

He uneasily smiled and momentarily glanced down to bust and the peek of cleavage her top afforded. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg!”

Her temper flared, the sheepishness that had dominated her life being eclipsed by annoyance, as she scrunched her snout and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not - I mean, yeah, I have a few toys at my apartment, but what single mare doesn’t?”

“How many?” he inquired.

Mere moments from replying, she pursed her lips. “None of your business, Mister!”

“And are any of them big and black?” he continued, his sonorous tone sending a shiver up her spine.

“M…maybe,” she sputtered, her snatch reflexively seizing upon itself. “Ok, yes, so I might have two or three like that, and maybe I’m really into zebras ~ can you blame me though? Just look at you - you’re gorgeous, nice, and…” she trailed off, only then noticing a sizable swell lurking beneath his right pant leg.

He leaned forward and brought himself to her eye level, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And?”

“And I was really, really hoping you’d come back to my apartment,” she dejectedly whispered, shamelessly confessing her hopes for the evening.

“How about this ~” he rumbled, rising to his full, imposing height, “I’ll walk back to your place with you, we can have a cup of tea, and we’ll see how things go from there. I don’t want you to get the wrong intention, because I am not some walking stereotype, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little interested now that certain mitigating factors have come to light.”

She could scarcely believe her ears. Not only had he agreed to accompany her to her apartment, but he’d said he was interested in her. In spite of there being no guarantee that he’d bend her over and utterly destroy her cunt, he’d given her a glimmer of hope. Offering her hand to him, she allowed his meaty digits to gingerly lace with her fingers.

“Deal,” she resolutely stated, turning and beginning to march in the direction of her apartment.

Their walk, while short, was pleasant and filled with conversation. It was true that she’d hardly been able to pay attention to him in the restaurant, yet that changed on their stroll. Maybe it was the adrenaline flooding her system, or perhaps it was the fear that she’d lose her shot at bagging the beefcake’s interest - whatever the case may be, by the time they reached her door, her tension had eased.

Having unlocked and turned her back to the door, she faced him and lifted her hands. “I wasn’t expecting company this afternoon, so please excuse the mess.”

“I won’t say a thing,” he chuckled, clasping a hand to his chest and giving a curt bow.

As she opened the door, revealing her living room and a peek at her kitchen, she held her breath. If things had gone the way she’d planned, she would have spent the night in a hotel or potentially in some stud’s bed - unfortunately for her, given the wholly unexpected turn of events, her slovenly lifestyle was laid bare. As she dashed through her door, leaving him in her wake, she glanced back at him.

“Make yourself comfy,” she shouted, remembering that she’d left a dildo in her bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”

Living by herself came with a number of benefits and drawbacks. On one hand, she didn’t have to worry about keeping her palace spick and span, she was free to wear whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, and she didn’t have anyone nagging her to do dishes regularly - on the other, it was fair to call her abode a bit of a sty - not egregiously filthy but certainly on the messy side. As much as she would like to clean up and make her home presentable, she had to prioritize concealing anything too scandalous for her unforeseen guest.

Stashing the sex-toys from her bathroom under her bed, she heaved her dirty laundry into her closet, tidied up the sheets on her mattress, and hid the oversized zebra pinup plastered on her bedroom wall. It was as plain as day that Ṣamani wasn’t all that appreciative of the reputation his kind had accrued, so she was going to do everything she could to ensure she didn’t rub him the wrong way. Scanning her chamber one final time, she grinned, straightened her dress, marched back into the living room, and froze.

The sight of the stud lounging on her sofa should have filled her with glee, yet that wasn’t the case. Reclined on her cough, holding up an issue of Striped magazine, he studied the pornographic publication with an unreadable expression. She momentarily considered defenestrating herself, abandoning her apartment in exchange for a hospital bed - regrettably, she was never given the chance. His eyes swung over to her, as he turned the issue around to display a pinup of a nude zebra stallion.

“I have to say, they do have some rather tasteful photos in here,” he placidly remarked.

Swallowing hard, she twisted in place. “Y…yeah.”

He stretched his arms over his head and turned slightly, resting his legs lengthwise across the sofa. “So what would you have done if you’d walked back in here and found me posed like that?”

“I…I…” she faltered, feeling her nipples stiffen against her bra. “Is this a trick question?” she quipped, peering over at his face. Not saying a word, he shook his head in response. “Honestly, I’d probably fall to my knees and worship you like a god.”

“I’ve heard about ponies like you, particularly mares who longed to be with an exotic stud, but the fact that you’re a virgin is frankly surprising,” he mused.

“Heh ~” she weakly laughed, giving a shrug, “girls gotta dream big.”

His eyes played over her, almost as if they were trying to peer through her attire, before they settled on her face. “I have a proposal,” he began, thrusting a hand into his pocket, “since this would be a first for both of us, how about we scratch each other’s backs. You’d be my first pony mare, I’d be your first - well, I’d be your first anything, so we’d both have something to gain from it.”

A tumultuous combination of emotions washed over her, yet excitement clawed its way above the rest - nevertheless, she couldn’t make herself out to be some desperate, needy strumpet. She cocked her hips and adjusted her glasses, feigning to stew on the matter for a moment. As much as she would have liked to pounce on him and rip his clothes off, she had to take her time.

“Who makes the first move?” she inquired, genuinely curious to hear what he had to say on the matter.

Thoughtfully rubbing his chin, he gazed up at the ceiling. “Given that you were so forward and honest, both traits which I find admirable, I’ll allow you to, as you so eloquently put it, worship me,” he casually responded. “But,” he hastily added, leveling a finger at her, “I want you to strip for me first - consider it a test of your perseverance.”

With her anxiety skyrocketing, she warily met his eyes. “I’ve n…never stripped for anyone before…”

“That’s fine,” he countered, dismissively waving a hand. “With a body like yours, you’d have to try to make yourself unappealing - besides, you’re just my type. Just keep your eyes down here if you’re nervous,” he hummed, patting his crotch and the behemoth lurking under his slacks. “Trust me, this will let you know if you’re doing a good job inspiring me.”

Her mouth began to water as she eyed the bulge in his pants. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to please the dreamboat loafing on her sofa, but being asked to undress in such a casual way took her off guard. Steeling her resolve, trying and failing to calm her pounding heart, she reached behind herself and unzipped the back of her dress.

She’d seen women strip in pornos before, so she had some idea of what was expected of her - that said, seeing something and doing something were worlds apart. As the silken garment slid down her shoulders and exposed the straps of her bra, she took his advice - she kept her eyes glued on his loins. Slowly, revealing inch after inch of her creamy coat, the article crept over her bust, down her abdomen, and eventually past her hips, before falling down her legs to the floor beneath her.

“Exquisite choice of undergarments,” he purred, staring at the white lace panties clinging to her nethers.

“T…thanks,” she stammered, igniting her horn and unclasping her bra.

Awkwardly shifting and slipping her hands from her brassière, holding the garment to her chest with one arm, she hooked a thumb over her panties and started wiggling her hips - at least she started to. Hearing him clear his throat, she reluctantly glanced over to his face. His charming smile and heavily lidded eyes were like something from a wet dream, captivating her like nothing ever had.

“Turn around when you take those off,” he softly instructed, lifting and spinning a finger. “I’d like to see all your assets.”

She instantaneously complied, wheeling around and leaning forward without a moment’s thought. The entire scenario was like something from a dirty blog post - that or a lewd fanfiction, but she wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Though it took her a moment to drag her underwear down her legs and past her knees, ultimately letting the garment drift to her feet, she was too worked up to care that her fat, completely bare ass was leveled at the paragon of masculinity resting on her sofa.

“There,” she huffed, “I hope you’re…”

The words died in her throat as she straightened up, turned around, and saw what her visitor had been doing while she’d disrobed. Without a care in the world, the giant nonchalantly stroked the most magnificent cock she’d ever laid eyes on. Long and extraordinarily thick, looking to be as large as her forearm, his midnight-black stallionhood was everything she could have dreamt of. All her fears, concerns, and apprehensions evaporated in the blink of an eye, replaced with the unbridled lust of a mare who’d only ever fantasized about being in the same room as such an awe-inspiring specimen of a stud.

Lust-crazed beyond all reason, still holding her bra in place, she crossed the gap between them and reverently fell to her knees beside the couch. She could scarcely believe she’d be so lucky, having her wildest and most scandalous imaginings made manifest, yet the stallion before her was as real as the stars in the night sky. She reached out with trembling hands, trying unsuccessfully to wrap her slender digits around his gargantuan length, and nearly came simply from touching his endowment.

“C…can I suck it?” she breathed, summoning the courage to tear her eyes off his package and up to his face.

He dipped his head and flexed his groin, causing his shaft to jerk in her grasp. “You may.”

No sooner did the two words pass his lips than she leaned forward and pressed her snout to and into the opening of his pants, planting her nose between the base of his stallionhood and the massive balls. As she drew a breath, flooding her nostrils with the divine scent of his lust, something snapped within her. Trembling from head to toe, obscenely squirting nectar onto her carpet, she was stricken by a climax.

Bolting upright, he peered down at her. “Did…did you just cum?”

“Y…yeah,” she giggled.

She dragged herself onto the couch, forsaking her brassière, and straddled his knees while she buried her face back in his equipment. Too excited to care about or question the fact that she’d just weathered a spontaneous climax, her thoughts dwelled on one thing and one thing alone - getting him warmed up. So help her, if it was the last thing she did, she was going to get her muff absolutely stuffed by the big bastard.

Dragging her tongue up his length, coating her taste buds in the salty, earthy flavors of his cock, she gradually worked her way up to the tip of his length. Even her biggest dildo, one she saved for special occasions, seemed downright modest compared to his stallionhood - a fact that, though slightly terrifying, made her giddy. As she brushed a lock of hair from her face, she opened her mouth as much as she could, forced her head down, and crammed him into her maw.

She could swear her jaw was going to unhinge, cognizant thought was a distant memory, and she thrust a hand down to her crotch, yet she couldn’t have been happier. Like a filly on Hearth’s Warming morning, she’d just received the greatest present of all - still, she was aware that the best was yet to come. While she unabashedly fingered her drooling snatch, plunging four fingers into herself, she bobbed her head and did what she could to please him.

“You don’t - Nnnf - need to rush,” he hissed, wincing down at her.

Withdrawing with a quiet pop, his tone and expression cutting through the blissful haze fogging her mind, she pouted. “Is…is everything ok?”

He forced a smile as he reached down and gently caressed her cheek. “Teeth…”

She balked, both ashamed and angry with herself for forgetting something so basic. While she had fellated her sex toys before, often with her eyes closed while fantasizing about them being attached to a stud, she’d been unable to get any feedback from the sculpted silicone. Speechless and with her trepidation roaring back to the fore, overtaking her libido, she awkwardly stroked his shaft with her hand.

“I c…can try again,” she murmured, peering down at his dick.

Shaking his head, he grasped her wrist. “If you insist on continuing, how about you try sitting on it. You can take as much time as you’d like, you’ll have total control, and I promise I won’t be upset if it doesn’t fit.”

A roaring inferno of lust and determination blazed within her, all but forcing her to act. As far as she was concerned, she’d make his stallionhood fit within her balmy confines. Clamoring up his frame, dragging her heated nethers over his shaft, she came to a halt on his abdomen and raised her waist. As his cock-head leapt between her thighs and kissed her entrance, her eyes met his.

“I might be new at this,” she coldly noted, adjusting her positioning ever so slightly and throwing her hips in reverse, “but I’m no qui - Oh fuck!”

Her quip ended in a rapturous howl, as she impaled herself and was wracked with a second, even more powerful climax. Though her plan had been foolhardy and bordered on suicidal, she’d intended to sheath at least part of his length to assert herself - regrettably, her hastily laid scheme had ended catastrophically for her. She collapsed atop him, gushing orgasmic juices over his pants and the sofa, while she shivered uncontrollably.

“I told you there was no need to rush,” he groaned. “You ok?”

She shudderingly turned her head to peer up at him, grinning like an absolute idiot. “Yesh…” she slurred.

“Do you need some help getting off?” he asked, the softness in his voice contrasting wildly against his build and his absolute bitch-breaker of a tool.

“No!” she chirped, snatching up his shirt and forcing herself up.

He smiled up at her and patted her hip. “I have to salute your tenacity, but I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

Bringing her snout to within an inch of his face, she glared at him. “If I don’t pass out, I’d say I’m ready for it.”

His hands crept down to her hips, as he continued to stare at her. “In that case, how about we have a wager? If you blackout, I’ll wash up, head home, and you’ll probably never see me again ~ if you can somehow stay conscious, then I may - may entertain going on a second date with you.”

“Deal,” she huffed, steadying herself.

Planting his feet on the far arm of the sofa, he flexed his legs. “Good luck…”

She was totally unprepared for his thrust. Her entire body was driven upward, it felt like her insides were being rearranged, and a squeal of delight escaped her, as he jammed his stallionhood into her. The sensation of abject fullness was beyond words, eclipsing anything she’d ever experienced before, and it sent her soaring toward yet another orgasm - even so, she couldn’t submit to the unfathomable pleasure he afforded. Through sheer force of will, she rocked back into a kneeling position and started bouncing on him.

Her moves were amateurish, asynchronous with his pounding hips, yet she continued undeterred. If weathering the rapturous onslaught meant she’d have even a chance of courting him, that’s exactly what she was going to do. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for with her libido and zeal, leading her to fuck herself on him with reckless abandon.

To say the exchange felt good was a laughable understatement. The silken flesh sheathing his length, the heat radiating through her abdomen, and the way he hammered against her womb were simply perfect, blowing her expectations out of the water by a mile. Though she had little doubt that she’d be walking funny for a few days, and that her poor, battered marehood would probably be very tender for at least a week, that was a small price to pay.

“Here,” he tenderly said, holding her waist, “move with me.”

Slowing slightly, she reigned herself in and did as asked. He wasn’t moving too terribly fast, so it wasn’t that difficult to coordinate her movements to his - even still, it was hard to control herself. As he drove his hips upward, she threw her weight down and was met with some resistance. She’d falsely assumed she’d taken most of what he had to offer, but she’d been wrong.

She peeked down past her swaying breasts and to her abdomen, seeing her belly bulge with each downward plunge. “Is…is that…?”

“Yup,” he snickered, hastening his pace. “And you’ve almost taken my medial ring.”

“Almost?!” she croaked.

Tightening his grip, he gave a particularly hard plunge and drove the thick band of flesh into her. Try as she might to hold back, the sensation of the ring grinding against her g-spot, while the tip of his shaft slammed into her cervix, proved too much to bear. Letting slip a whorish groan, sensing her canal spasm and clinging to his pistoning length, she nearly broke when she was hit with her third climax.

Her senses went haywire, she could barely hold herself upright, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as he plowed her from below. She’d had particularly passionate evenings when she’d screwed herself multiple times in rapid succession, often ending in nearly comatose in a pool of her own nectar, but this - this was different. She’d cum three times in rapid succession, and he showed no sign of stopping.

Her grasp of time blurred, as she suffered through orgasm after orgasm; she had no way to tell if he’d been railing her for seconds, minutes, or hours, but it felt like she’d stayed atop him for a small eternity before a peculiar feeling shook her to her senses. As she blindly pawed at her abdomen, sensing his cock-head beginning to expand, she comprehended just how close he was.

“Inside,” she demanded. “Cum in me!”

Gritting his teeth, he shot forward, clasped her ass, and pulled her off his throbbing shaft. The sensation of his stallionhood being hauled from her depths bordered on heartbreaking, leaving her gaped cunt to grasp at nothing, but she wasn’t crestfallen for long. The hot spray of his seed against her back, hitting the back of her head and shoulders, was almost as rewarding as hearing his sonorous grunts and seeing his face contorted in ecstasy.

She remained where he was, allowing him to ride out his climax, before she worked up the nerve to clear her throat. “W…why didn’t you finish inside?”

“Because,” he wheezed, holding her to his chest, “you have to earn that…” Swinging his legs off the sofa, he got to his feet and effortlessly slung her over his shoulder. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Caught unawares, it took her a second to point to a short hallway. “Down there ~ why?”

“Because we both need a shower,” he groused, fiddling with his pants, “and because I’m going to need to use your laundry machine.”

“But I won ~ right?” she pressed, the thought of going on a second date with him having cleared her thoughts.

He reached up and playfully smacked her cum-slathered backside, snickering to himself. “I guess you did, but we can talk about that later - for the time being, let’s try to relax and enjoy ourselves…”

She’d managed to go on a date with a zebra, finally lost her virginity, and she’d somehow scored a second evening out with the stud. Fate had smiled on her after so many years of solitude, and she would do everything she could to make things work - not just for the sex, but because she genuinely liked Ṣamani. Draping herself over his back, she gave his sculpted, striped backside a squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” she tittered, “I’m sure we’ll be enjoying ourselves all night long…”