Affectionate Antipathy

Shaka’s eyes meandered across the expansive chamber, while sounds of the diners gathered around him drifted to his ears. With a disgruntled grunt, he turned his wrist and checked the time. As he turned his attention to the entryway, his annoyance waxed in strength.

It would be insulting for anypony to stand him up and make him wait, especially after he’d donned his finest suit, yet he was scarcely surprised by the tardiness of his expected company. Steepling his fingers and knitting his brow, he leered at the door. He would have left long before now, abandoning his seat and storming out without saying a word - regrettably, excusing himself would be counterintuitive.

Strutting in and surveying the interior, turning her head and looking from one table to another, a familiar figure appeared. She was immaculately dressed, adorned in a cocktail dress and made up as though she were going out on a romantic date, but her beauty was only skin deep. While everypony in the restaurant may have assumed she was a respectable, well-groomed mare, he knew the truth.

Rocking back, he grimaced up at her as she approached. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably late,” she tutted. Seating herself across from him, she reached out and lovingly caressed his forearm. “You look well.”

What would otherwise be an innocuous compliment held teeth. When last she’d seen him, he’d been a broken, heavily-bruised mess heaped atop his bed. Coldly recalling the state she’d left him in, barely able to stand and with at least one fractured rib, he coolly smiled. Her parting gift had been a potion to heal and restore him, a spiteful offering, but it had served its purpose.

He held her gaze as he folded his arms across his chest. “My thanks. I’m both obliged and compelled to say that you look particularly ravishing yourself.”

“Why thank you,” she giggled. Practically preening, she flipped her dreadlocks away from her face. “Shall we continue this little charade or would you like to tell me why I’ve been invited to such an esteemed establishment?”

With a small snort, he looked over her shoulder and nodded. “Be coy.”

She subtly twisted her head and glanced back. “The stallion who’s pretending not to look at us?”

“Yes, but there are more,” he affirmed, keeping his voice low. “Our exploits of late have made quite the stir…”

“As well they should,” she tutted, crossing her arms beneath her modest bust. “I’m a bit surprised that the video of me crushing your pelvis gained more attention than the one of you despoiling a hellhound at that dog show.”

“I’ll…” He cut himself off, pinched the bridge of his snout, and took a slow, measured breath. “It’s not unexpected that a more conventional pairing performs better than such a depraved act.”

Extending a leg beneath the table, she rubbed her foot along the side of his calf. “Perhaps for uninitiated and conformists, although I prefer more exotic material myself.”

“My point is that we’re making names for ourselves that do us a disservice,” he growled. “Should we continue on this nihilistic path, we’ll both be pursued in ways ill-fitting of our trades.”

Though he’d only met her a few short months prior, his reputation had taken a considerable blow. Where once ponies would only seek him out for wrathful, oftentimes petty matters that involved the dark arts, he’d had no fewer than a dozen mares and a handful of stallions come to him for erotic services. There was nothing wrong with engaging with the occasional visitor, but he would not suffer the indignity of becoming known as a whore.

He shook his head and grimaced at her. “Do you not concur?”

“I must confess, I do not,” she sighed. “After all the fun we’ve been having with one another, I’ve considered becoming an actress.”

“Porn stars aren’t actresses,” he hissed.

“I respectfully disagree,” she countered. “Convincingly faking an orgasm isn’t nearly as easy as many think it would be.”

Nearly drawing a hand over his face out of frustration, he smiled. “I should hope that wasn’t the case with me.”

“Shaka, you cut me to the quick!” she gasped. “I would never feign the throes of ecstasy with you - besides, I never had any need to,” she continued. Leaning in and propping her chin on one hand, she pulled at her top to reveal one obsidian nipple. “Is that what this is really about? Would you like to throw me on the table and have your way with me in front of all these fine ponies?”

His traitorous stallionhood twitched within its pants, stirring from its slumber, while he massaged his temples. “This is going nowhere.”

“For you,” she tittered. “I’m soaking wet right now.”

“This is going nowhere,” he groaned. “You did actually read the letter I sent you ~ did you not?”

She shrugged and ran her toes around his knee and to his inner thigh. “I did, yes, and I was - am positively heartbroken that you’d wish to bring our game to an end.”

At most, her claim was a half-truth. She’d been toying with the notion of speaking with him about their increasingly bawdy meetings since their previous escapade. As thrilling as it would be to officially enter the world of adult entertainment, particularly because Zebrican mares were a rarity in the field, it wouldn’t be quite as rewarding as her craft - on top of that, she’d prefer not to be beholden to set schedules and generally lackluster stallions who starred in such films.

“Not an end,” he corrected, “an alternative approach.”

Reclining, she cocked her head. “That being?”

“Henceforth, we’ll have a more civil competition,” he noted. “Any future engagements will revolve around mutually agreed upon challenges that, while undoubtedly debased, won’t as severely impact our respective characters.”

“Wanting to run around on me already?” she pouted. “Shaka, I’m wounded to think that I’m not enough for you.”

She may have concealed it well, but she’d had a similar idea herself. The memories of other, lesser creatures could be easily manipulated or outright erased, and there they didn’t have to upload any videographic evidence of their amorous antics to the internet - if they did, it would be easy enough to censor their faces and defining features. As she pondered on how lucrative it would be to sell recordings of them plowing or being plowed by various denizens of Equestria, a wolfish smile split her muzzle.

Taking her hand in his, he nodded. “It’s the only way, my sweet, for both our sakes.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks and loins, prompting her to pull away. Her feelings for him were conflicting. On one hand, taking him as her personal, permanent plaything would be phenomenal - on the other, being kept on edge, never knowing when he would strike or what he would do to her, was riveting. Controlling her breathing and willing her blush to dissipate, she shifted in her seat.

“On one condition,” she murmured. “We shall savor one another’s company no less than twice a week.”

“Once a week,” he groused.

She locked eyes while her expression hardened. “Twice. If we’re mingling with common rabble, neither of us would be satisfied otherwise.”

A fleeting look of remorse or possibly resigned understanding flitted across his face. “We can discuss the minutia later - for now, let us agree that there’ll put an end to the mutually assured destruction.”

“Are we speaking physically or mentally,” she teased. Seeing his irritation, she patted his arm. “That was a joke - but, yes, I suppose we could change things up.”

Offering an open hand, he warmly grinned. “Then we have an accord?”

She looked from his hand to his face and back again, snickered, then unseated herself. “My most cherished Shaka, simply shaking on such a pact won’t do! Allow me to get us a drink to commemorate our treaty. Let me guess ~ a whisky sour?”

“Too right,” he chuckled. “Rye, if you’d be so kind.”

“Spicy,” she hummed. “That sounds perfect. Wait right here, my love, I’ll be right back.”

Weaving her way past tables full of patrons, she wandered to the bar at the far end of the restaurant. The change of pace with Shaka would be interesting, she’d freely confess that much, although she wasn’t going to set her hopes too high. Zebras were better in bed than nearly any creature in existence, in her experience, and she’d be willing to wager that many of their impending contests would leave her unsatisfied in a fleshly regard.

Coming up to the bar, she rapped her knuckles on the wooden surface. “Two whisky sours please.”

The bartender, a pegasus mare, glanced over to Shaka. “You with him?”

“What gave you that impression?” she sweetly asked.

“Just a guess,” the mare said with a grunt. She began to assemble the components, resting an egg, lemon, and bottle of amber simple syrup on the counter, and faltered when she turned to the arrangement of liquors on the wall behind her. “Don’t see many Zebricans around, so I figured you two were together. Preference of spirit?”

“Rye,” Sahira tranquilly responded. “A single malt, if you have it.”

The move was furtive, the sort of thing that could have easily passed by all but the most observant of creatures, but the bartender had just given herself away. There was a slight tremor in the mare’s hands, she’d ignored two other potential customers to tend to her, and the lemon she’d selected had been placed apart from the others. Something fishy was going on, and it wasn’t hard to deduce whom was involved.

After pouring the first drink, the pegasus placed it on the counter. “One for your stallion friend,” she remarked while filling and presenting the second glass, “and one for you.”

“Aaaah - you mean the one you just drugged,” Sahira apathetically noted. Taking her cocktail and bringing it to her nose, she gave it a sniff. “For the record, I’m sorry he roped you into this.”

The mare stiffened as a cold bead of sweat rolled down her brow. “I…I don’t k…know what you’re t…talking -”

“Don’t be so modest,” she interrupted. “The way you ran your thumb around the rim of my glass was subtle that you hardly had to try and distract me with his drink to keep me from noticing - that said, I did notice,” she softly stated. Pulling several bits from the purse hanging from her shoulder, she paid for the drinks and left a generous tip. “Keep the change, darling, and do practice your poker face.”

The only remarkable thing about Shaka’s attempt to spike her drink was how droll it was, but she wasn’t angry with him - quite the opposite, she was elated with his adorable little ploy. With all the poisons and elixirs she’d taken over the years, systematically desensitizing a wide array of toxins, testing her system against whatever substance he’d concocted would be entertaining. As he eyed the cocktails, almost assuredly ensuring she didn’t switch him, her suspicions were cemented.

She retook her seat, lifted the glasses, and whispered two words. “Ifẹkufẹ gidigidi…”

Peaking a brow while she offered him his drink, he glared at her. “And that was…?”

“Let’s call it insurance,” she merrily replied. “Enlighten me, Shaka, what did you have that cute little mare rim my glass with.”

He stared her dead in the eyes, unflinching, and smirked. “An exceptionally powerful aphrodisiac of my own making. It will…”

Turning her glass up, she downed the drink in two gulps. “Not to be rude, but I’ve heard enough. I’m sure it will drive me mad with lust and have me surrender myself to anypony and everypony who so much as casts an eye in my direction. To answer your unasked question, that little curse I cast on our drinks will do the same for the both of us. Should you refuse, I wouldn’t be…”

He held up a finger as he finished his cocktail. “Go on.”

“Shaka, you are an absolute delight,” she laughed.

They gazed at one another and smiled. While unsaid, the tainted drinks had simultaneously curried favor with one another and guaranteed a very interesting evening for the both of them, although they weren’t finished with each other. Shaka lifted his head, filling his lungs while his skeletal structure began to glow faintly beneath his coat, as Sahira filled her lungs.

“Aise ife gidigidi,” she bellowed, her words reverberating with preternatural strength.

Shaka exhaled, remaining silent. Green, unnatural smoke billowed from his nostrils and open maw, spilling to the floor and spreading throughout the restaurant. Everypony froze, going rigid as they were struck with not one but two powerful spells in tandem. A single enchantment from either one of the shamans would have been enough to wreak havoc amongst the throng, so the twin onslaught was more than most could bear.

Several ponies collapsed, convulsing and spontaneously climaxing so hard that they lost consciousness, although the majority began masturbating or setting upon one another. It was a charnel house of debauchery, and at the eye of the maelstrom, calm and relatively undisturbed, sat Shaka and Sahira. Though the duo were far more composed than everypony else, they were anything but immune to the forces at play.

Acting in concert, they hurled themselves at one another. Their classes, complimentary hors d'oeuvres, and pitcher of water clattered to the floor as their bodies entwined. While their clothes were rent asunder, torn from them by their clawing hands, the sounds of bliss from all around them grew into a din.

Sahira sank her nails into his back and drove her tongue into his muzzle. The supernatural heat she’d induced was exacerbated by the bewitched fumes in her lungs and the noxious compounds swirling about in her belly. Sensing what could only be Shaka’s bulge grind against her crotch, she groaned.

Pushing himself away, Shaka broke the kiss. “Wait…”

“For what?” she demanded. Tugging her panties aside, she fingered herself. “If you don’t take care of this, somepony else will.”

“Isn’t that the point?” he contested. “Instead of carrying on old habits and indulging with one another, wouldn’t it be better if we turn the page and have a fresh start?”

She wanted - by the abyss, she wanted to argue with him, but he was right. They’d kicked off an orgy of apocalyptic proportions, with ponies of all ages succumbing to their desires, and not taking full advantage of that would stymie what was supposed to be do-over for them. Having called down the thunder, and sharing the same idea, it was time for them to reap the whirlwind.

“Shall we?” he began, standing and motioning to one side.

Rising from her seat, she turned and sauntered to the table he’d waved at. “Pardon the interruption ~ by chance, are you two married?”

The pair, a unicorn stallion and earth pony mare respectively, were far too preoccupied with themselves to give any appreciable response. Smiling idiotically at one another, they feverishly got themselves off while giggling like love-struck teenagers. Though they were only capable of softly groaning and panting, the rings they wore were telling.

“Upsy-daisy - yes, there we go,” Sahira urged as she guided the stallion up and turned him around. Pushing him back, she shoved him off his feet and onto the table. “Dearest, would you be so kind to - oh…”

She’d been moments from instructing Shaka to bend the wife over the table, but he was well ahead of her. Stepping behind what was presumably the stallion’s wife or fiancée, he lifted the pony’s skirt and ripped the panties from her waist. Not to be outdone, she put herself to task.

“What’s your name?” she inquired while she unzipped the stallion’s pants.

“T…Timber,” the stallion sputtered.

Straddling him, smoothly hilted herself on him. “I can see why, what with this fine wood you’re sporting,” she teased. “And is this fine creature your wife?”

Timber peered upward as Shaka repositioned the mare and situated her groin just over his face. “M…my fiancée, Dreamer…”

“I’m sure she’ll be dreaming of this for many nights to come,” Shaka joked while he steadily sank his length into her.

The placement of the couple couldn’t be perfect. Timber was on his back, his head directly between his lover’s knees, while Dreamer was bent over with her face inches from her to-be hubby’s crotch. Whether or not the pair had foregone the age-old tradition of saving themselves for one another was and would remain a mystery - regardless, the bore witness to each other’s despoilment.

Screwing herself on the stallion, Sahira gyrated her hips and rode him like the well-seasoned she was. “He’s a bit too small for my liking.”

“And this one’s far too tight,” Shaka grumbled. “What’s say we help the dearly beloved?”

“Tobi,” Sahira commanded. Timber’s stallionhood swelled and nearly doubled in size, growing just enough to give her g-spot a decent swabbing. “Much better…”

After the rutting that Shaka was giving Dreamer, endowing Timber with a bit more length and girth was the least she could do. Unable to view anything besides the mare’s back, and having no interest in the perversions unfolding around her, she swung her eyes up to her colossal accomplice. It was the first time she’d watched him in action with anypony other than herself, and she had to admit that seeing him plowing somepony was quite the spectacle.

“I…I’m g…gonna - Aaaaaahn!” Dreamer cried out as she quaked and came.
Timber gagged and coughed while he was drowned in his fiancée’s climactic eruption, yet her release heralded more than his inability to breathe. His hands flew to Sahira’s hips, he blindly kicked out with his legs until his feet found the chair he’d been sitting in, and he started thrusting. Just like that, with his betrothed being railed before his very eyes, his true colors shown through.

Hastening her pace, Sahira threw her head back and cackled. “Fucking cuck! Can you believe this pitiful excuse for a stallion?”

Shaka nodded while he slid his hands up to Dreamer’s waist. “Sadly, I can. Shall I knock her up and have them raise my bastard?”

“No,” she spat. “Let them imagine us on their wedding night

While she was inclined to let him sow his seed, Sahira’s envy ultimately won out. The fruit of his loins were hers and hers alone, even if she didn’t mind letting him have his fun with others. Feeling Timber flaring within her, she threw her weight down, sheathed his pulsing shaft, and turned her head from side to side.

“Shame,” Shaka lamented. Giving the mare an affectionate pat on the ass, he increased the speed of his thrusts. “You heard her, don’t go getting knocked up.”

The Zebricans’ savagery was exemplary, and the pony couple stood no chance against them. Surrounded by ponies each other, playing with themselves, or in several cases doing both, the pair were brought to and beyond the threshold of nirvana - several times, in the mare’s case. Seconds passed into minutes and longer still, until Shaka brought an unceremonious end to the affair.

“Just - Mnnn - a bit,” he grunted while unleashing a single rope of spunk into Dreamer’s cunt. Shuffling back, he hauled his prodigious stallionhood free, painted the mare’s back with his cum, and left her to collapse atop her spasming paramour. “Ready?”

With her depths brimming with Timber’s jizz, Sahira got up and disgorged the contents of her sex. “Feel free to clean up as we busy ourselves.”

As Shaka helped Sahira down from her perch, they watched the lovers set upon one another. Neither knew the ponies, only having just met them prior to screwing them, yet they took endless amusement by what they’d wrought. Timber and Dreamer acted like it was their first time together, heedless or uncaring that they were licking and slurping the lecherous juices from two perfect strangers from each other’s nethers.

Shaka reluctantly turned his eyes from the affianced ponies. “Any preferences on -”

“Them,” Sahira rasped. Nodding over to a group of young stallions, all of whom were jacking off to a mare being railed against the bar, she grinned broadly. “If that’s not a good time, nothing is.”

Rolling his eyes, Shaka quickly and conveniently spotted a small gang of mares huddled in one corner. “In that case, let us temporarily part ways.”

“Divide and conquer?” Sahira posited, flashing her teeth at him.

Shaka returned her smirk and offered a hand. “Divide and conquer.”

Heading in opposite directions, the duo separated. There were any number of ways they could sate themselves, being spoiled for choice on whom they toyed with, but they’d made their minds up and chosen their targets. When they reunited, they’d do so with a considerable number of new notches on their nonexistent belts.

“Hello, colts,” Sahira purred. As the five stallions peered up at her, hesitant to abandon the show they’d been engrossed in, she fondled her breasts. “What brings you all here?”

One of the stallions gulped and pointed at a companion situated at the head of the table. “Flash it g…getting married tomorrow.”

Sahira burst into laughter at the revelation. As gleeful as she would have been to potentially throw one relationship into disarray, she getting a second opportunity to do just that! Removing the tattered rags that had been her dress, she spun around to display herself.

“Well then, Flash, how about you cut loose before you throw your life away?” she cooed.

Crawling into the table and up to the soon to be ex-bachelor, she licked her lips. It was unlikely that any of them had ever sampled a zebra mare before, and she’d be delighted - nay, privileged to provide them with an experience that would last them a lifetime. As a number of hands wandered over her body, brushing against her nipples, ass, snatch, and everywhere in between, her marehood winked in anticipation.

“I…I…” Flash croaked. Bolting to his feet, he set his brow and fumbled for his belt. “Buck it…”

She turned in place, rolled onto her back, and splayed her legs. “If the it in question is me, be my guest.”

Wasting no time, Flash stooped down and took her legs over his shoulders. His friends all swiftly followed his lead, scrambling to remove their clothes while jockeying for position with her. There was no way for her to know what they’d ordered or if they’d even eaten already, but she was overjoyed to make herself the main course for the lot of them.

Two stallionhoods found their ways into her hands, a third plunged into her cunt, her muzzle was filled by a fourth, and another, one of a particularly advantageous stud who’d climbed onto her, slid between her tits. The scent of young, virile musk, paired with the ponies’ hunger for her, fanned the flames of her passion into an inferno. They may have thought they had her overwhelmed, outnumbering her seven to one, but they were going to learn the error of their naive ways.

She was a symphony of motion. While she bobbed her head and fellated one stallion, she stroked off two more as she clenched around Flash’s wildly pistoning length. Though she couldn’t see more than the one pony’s crotch and lower abs, keeping her head turned to one side to properly suck him off, she could feel that somepony had been inspired or desperate enough to free her left leg and use the crook of her knee to pleasure himself.

The overwhelming might of their zeal was enough to give her what she yearned for. She came after a short while, moments after Flash had creamed her up and stepped aside for one of his friends to take his place, and the climax was the first of many. With a pair of hands clamping shut around her snout, holding her steady as a steaming load flowed down her gullet, her eyelids fluttered.

Honestly, it was hard to choose between having one, supremely capable lover or a harem to make use of her. One could argue that having a single, well-hung stud was the superior option - then again, being taken by multiple stallions concurrently did have an appeal all its own. Giving into her urges, she waited until the stallion who’d been rutting her face pulled clear of her muzzle.

“Hold on,” she sweetly but firmly clucked. Twisting onto her side and sliding tush to the very corner of the, she reached back and prized her buns apart. “Got one more hole for you colts.”

The prospect of getting to fuck her ass virtually caused the studs to come to blows. Bickering and posturing turned to a scuffle. Their enthusiasm would have been endearing, had she not been on the cusp of another orgasm. With her lip curling, her merriment became tarnished with disdain.

“Da jiyàn ati ki o ni ibalopo pẹlu mi,” she barked.

Each of the stallions snapped to attention, enslaved by her words, and ceased their squabbling. Commanding them was less than ideal, effectively making them mindless, meaty automata, but it would suffice. While they took their places and got back to business, fucking her fists, mouth, pussy, and behind, she gave an exasperated, choked groan.

The earthly sensations were all there, making her feel good on a fundamental level, yet their thoughtless, mechanical motions left much to be desired. Casting a glance to the side, she peered across the room. Be it from happenstance, fate, or something else altogether, the sight of Shaka being fawned over by the band of fair, nubile mares made her blood boil.

Envy lanced through her. Shaka would have brought her to her knees in ecstasy many times over by now, even without the use of his magic, but she’d foolishly abandoned him in search of something novel. Forcing herself to feign rapture, she writhed and loudly moaned while servicing her newfound admirers.

Though he had no reason to do so, it took everything Shaka had not to scowl. The mares he’d found had been eager to please him, making out around his stallionhood, worshiping his coin purse, and kissing his chest, yet they offered no comfort. They wanted him for his body, viewing him as an object or prize to be won, and nothing more.

He was disgusted not only with Sahira for enjoying herself as she served a half-dozen stallions but with himself. This wasn’t right, he didn’t get jealous of anypony for anything - nevertheless, he was resentful that he wasn’t the one putting the insufferable sow in her place. There was nothing he could do to intervene without jeopardizing his pride and making himself appear weak, but he was still able to launch a counteroffensive.

“Yes, my sweets,” he rumbled, stroking two of the mares’ shoulders and pulling them into a hug, “you’ll all get a turn. Which of you would like to go first?”

To his astonishment, spurred by the innocent question, the mares outright attacked one another like feral animals. Bitter curses and hurled insults were joined by raking nails, slaps, and mane pulling as the gaggle of harlots fought for him. What had been something funny, observing Sahira having to charm her devotees with her sorcery, had turned into a bitterly poetic joke.

Shooing the trollops away, he turned his gaze from Sahira and pushed her from his mind. He was perfectly capable of keeping himself preoccupied, and leaving a lasting impression as he did so. As one of the floozies inserted herself between him and the bar, arching her back and wiggling her tush, his spirits lifted slightly.

“As good as any,” he halfheartedly conceded.

Sidling behind her and grabbing the dock of her tail, he nonchalantly and languidly set to fucking her. The snugness of her cunt was virginal, so taut that it may well have been her first time having sex, and her piercing howl of bliss was music to his ears. Though he was tentatively pleased with himself and his little mate, there was another issue to address.

Turning his sights to the quarreling groupies, he cleared his throat. “Unless you want me to forsake you all, put yourselves to use.”

The mares, excluding the one he was currently banging, flung themselves at him. While they fantastically did anything they could to impress him, he gave a brutal plunge and breached the mare’s inner gate. Her voice raised above the pandemonium of the room as she peaked, marking him as a premier stud who was capable of delivering unimaginable bliss.

When life gave you lemons, make lemonade - the saying was a universal truth. He’d had no plans to ensconce himself with a sex party involving families, couples, and restaurant staff when he’d left his home earlier that afternoon, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing and completely able to flaunt his stuff. He’d intimidated almost every Equestrian he’d ever met, and laying waste to the group of young mares would separate the wheat from the chaff in the restaurant.

He finished with the initial mare in a matter of minutes, rutting her so mercilessly that she blacked out and collapsed to the floor in a squirting, climaxing heap, then moved on to the next. The ponies fell before him like wheat before a scythe, yielding no challenge or resistance as they were laid low from his bitch-breaking cock, immaculate technique, and staggering strength. It was only when he felt something caress his ass that his sensual slaughter faltered.

Turning and peeking over his shoulder, he found a pony kneeling behind him. “May I help you?”

“I...I w…was - um…” the pony, a svelte stallion from the looks of it, shot a glance to his rump.

Shaka guffawed. “By all means - in fact, if you do an exceptionally good job, I might have a roll with you after I’m done with her!”

Giving the nameless mare he was screwing a slap on the ass, he emphasized his point. What a pleasantly unexpected surprise! It had been - goodness, at least a year since he’d received a mid-coitus rimming! Widening his stance a bit for the demure little femcolt, he flicked his tail to the side.

“And I thought I was bad…”

“Sahira, I was wondering when you’d come back for a genuine fucking,” he chuckled, having instantly recognized her voice. “Were those colts not stimulating enough for you?”

She hopped onto the bar, took one of the semi-conscious mares by the mane, and leg locked the poor pony to her loins. “What do you think? Ran through seven of them like they were nothing.”

“This is my…” He paused while he did a quick tally. “This is my sixth?”

“Amateur,” Sahira snorted.

Watching the mare lapping mouthfuls of cum from Sahira’s snatch, Shaka jackhammered into the pony he was rutting. “If we’re counting every time we’ve made somepony cum, I’m at seventeen -”

“Aaaaaaaaaaah!”

Shaka beamed. “Make that eighteen.”

The look of scorn on her face was delicious, bringing him closer to his limit than the entire troupe of mares he’d gone through. For him, sex was like most things in life - it only had value if it took effort. Had he been the sort of stallion who just wanted to get his dick wet with anypony, he could be swimming in pussy at every hour of the day and night. More absorbed by his nemesis being eaten out than by the pony he was indifferently screwing, he scrunched his snout.

“There a problem?” Sahira muttered.

Withdrawing his dick from the nameless mare, he shook his head. “I didn’t realize you swung both ways.”

“Says the stud with a colt eating his ass,” she rebutted. Her eyes widened and she abruptly straightened up. “Would you like to share him?”

He twisted and gazed down at the small stallion lavishing his backside. “Him?”

Kicking the mare aside and onto the pile of her groaning, quivering friends, he made some room atop the bar. “Why not?”

Though he dearly wanted to take her up on the offer, he wavered. Just the thought of including her got him fired up, and he’d be stunned if she didn’t feel the same way about him. In defiance of all their differences and their illustrious history, or possibly because of them, they were drawn to one another.

“We can go ass to mouth after we’re done with him,” she sang, sweetening the deal.

“To Tartarus with it,” he conceded. “Here, help me get him into place.”

Sahira skittered from the bar and around to the femcolt’s side. “Nice to meet you - no, we’re not going to bother with names. I presume you’re into stallions?”

The twinish stallion anxiously nodded while looking between her and Shaka. “Y…yes?”

“Not today you’re not,” Sahira tittered. Standing him up, she walked him to the corner of the bar. “I’m going to use you like a dildo while my friend Shaka rearranges your insides. Trust me, when he’s finally done with you, you’ll be farting cum for a week.”

Effortlessly lifting and placing the young stallion on the counter, Shaka laid him back and drifted between his legs. “She’d know.”

“Shaka, you cad,” she bleated. Climbing onto the femcolt into a reverse cowgirl position, she pawed at Shaka’s chest. “Don’t listen to him, whoever you are, he’s a scoundrel.”

“And she’s a harridan,” he wryly interjected.

Casually impaling herself on the young stallion’s rigid, twitching, and wholly lackluster dick, she extended her arms and hugged Shaka’s neck. “Your harridan?”

He leaned in and brought his snout a hair’s breadth from her face. “Like anypony else could handle you.”

Giving no warning, he commenced to railing the femcolt with only a shred of restraint. Given the pony’s size, being no larger than most of the mares he’d run through, he didn’t want to be too rough - be that as it may, his libido could only be shackled for too long. He’d only had a single orgasm since the party had kicked off, his balls were brimming with seed, and Sahira’s spontaneous fortuitous inclusion made it very difficult for him to control himself.

“How you holding up, champ?” Sahira giggled while peering back at the stallion.

With his face contorted in pleasure, biting his lower lip, the femcolt whimpered. “M…mommy!”

Both Shaka and Sahira ground to a halt, looked to one another, and cackled. The sorry little fuckcolt either wasn’t as gay as he thought, had some ingrained complex, or had just discovered a new kink - in any case, he came with a dick in his ass and a pussy hugging his prick. With nothing else to do, apart from their most recent, mutual victim, they locked lips and started to move.

When they were done with the young stallion, leaving him bloated with jizz and slathered with nectar, they selected their next targets. Sometimes they’d work in concert, leveling their efforts on a lucky or unlucky individual - at others, they’d separate to harry their prey. By the time they were sated, with the restaurant looking more like a warzone than an eatery, not a single pony was left standing.

Sahira shuffled to the door, past limp, groaning bodies strewn about tables and on the floor, and patted Shaka’s back. “Nice - Cough - work…”

Wearily nodding, he rested an arm across her shoulders. “You too…”

As they reached the entryway, their eyes met. Neither spoke, merely looking at one another while tiredly smiling, though they understood that reached a crossroads. While she reached up and brushed his sweat-slick mane from his face, he strummed his fingers on her shoulder.

“So…” she breathed. “Want to come back to my place to shower?”

Though it was an enticing offer, he shook his head. “Another time…”

She ran her hand down his arm, undeterred by his rejection, and laced fingers with him. “Your place then?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re a persistent little thing ~ aren’t you?”

“Guilty,” she hummed. “Yes or no. If not, I won’t be too offended.”

Even though he should have known better, he gave in and shrugged. “Sure, but no funny business.”

“And breach the truce we just made? Shaka, you should know better than that,” she purred. Slipping around him, she hugged his side and nodded to the door. “After you.”

He led the way and reached into the pocket of his sullied pants. They looked terrible, their clothes were ruined, and there would definitely be reports filed and questions raised when ponies started gathering their wits and realizing what had happened, but that was of no consequence. The only important thing for either of them was that their competition had entered a new, thrilling phase…