Down in Cloudsdale’s lower east end, there was a bar called the Nimbus. Small, out of the way, and constructed mainly using stained oak it was old. Some claimed it was older than the city itself, having been originally part of a small village that had gotten dragged into the swelling settlement. Regardless of this rumor’s truth, it remained a favored watering hole of the Wonderbolts, though that was strictly unofficial.
No one from such an esteemed organization would declare that this tiny dive bar was affiliated with them in any way. That didn't mean it wasn't an open secret, however, and many wannabe stunt fliers frequented the place, hoping to catch a glimpse of their hero. Or at least that was the case when school wasn't in, and it was a weekend.
It was the middle of the week, during late fall. Too early for winter break, but too late for summer, the small bar was unusually quiet.
As usual, the nimbus had only a single employee, a wiry old pegasus mare that seemed both as old as the hills and or in her early thirties. No one could tell. She had a gaze that could unsettle even the most hardened of alcohol, and tales of her surprising martial skill ensured that no one started a fight. At least not before leaving the bar first anyway.
She wasn't alone though, as a small crew of regulars populated the stools sitting closest to the counter. Of the other tables nearby had occupants, though they were mostly transients. A group of young adults waiting for their movie to start, and a duo of pegasi factory workers killing time until they headed home. It was at the back, beyond the small pony wall that divided this area from the front where the true party animals gathered.
“If I hit this you two gotta make out,” Rainbow Dash declared, pointing to a pair of mares standing across the pool table from her.
The duo exchanged a look and a shrug before nodding at Rainbow Dash.
“You sure you can get it though?” Asked a young stallion holding the other pool cue. “You kinda suck at hitting those double bank shots.”
“Who says I’m banking anything?” Rainbow Dash declared.
Then with a clack, she sent the ball flying over the eight, and into the six on the other side, sinking it but luckily not the cue ball.
“Well I’ll be damned,” murmured Rainbow Dash’s opponent. “I didn't think you’d get it.”
“Come on ladies, give it up,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.
The two young mares all but threw themselves at each other, making out with an almost violent level of passion. Hooves groped at the other’s body, and together they rolled onto the table, knocking balls everywhere. Neither of the players cared, with both staring slack-jawed as the mares they had been drinking with all but tongue fucked each other in the middle of the bar.
“Damn. That's hot,” murmured the stallion.
“No kidding,” Rainbow Dash agreed.
“So… wanna make out?” Asked the thin, feminine stallion.
Rainbow Dash glanced at him curiously, inspecting him up and down before shaking her head.
“You’re cute, I’ll give you that but I like my mares,” Rainbow Dash stated.
“Fair. Call it a draw?” He offered, extending a hoof.
“A draw it is,” Rainbow Dash agreed, clopping her hoof.
Rainbow Dash then departed, shouldering her Wonderbolts flight jacket as she did so. A part of her wanted to stay, to coax the two mares into making out with her, but she resisted. She had seen that kind of passion before, between Rarity and Applejack. When they got like that nothing would get in their way, and it was best to clear out.
Or grab a drink and watch. Either way, Rainbow Dash needed another cider.
“Angry Orchard, please,” Rainbow Dash remarked.
The barkeeper nodded and departed. Returning a few seconds later she popped the top off the dark bottle and placed it before Rainbow Dash. A couple of bits passed from one hoof to the other, and just like that the transaction was over.
Rainbow Dash turned around, leaning on the bar while taking a long, slow swig of her beverage. She wondered if she should return to the pool area, or perhaps strike up a conversation with another of the old fliers sitting nearby. Before she could make up her mind she saw the door swing open, letting in the cool evening air.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Rainbow Dash muttered.
Standing in the doorway was Spitfire, the ever-busy leader of the Wonderbolts. Having ditched her usual professional outfit, she wore a bomber jacket emblazoned with the same logo that adorned Rainbow Dash’s. Only Spitfire’s also bore the two iron bars signifying that she had the highest rank attainable by the Wonderbolts.
It wasn't her clothing that grabbed Rainbow Dash’s attention, but, rather Spitfire’s expression. She looked… tired, exhausted even. With deep bags hanging under her eyes, she looked like she was ready to pass out.
Spitfire glanced her way, meeting Rainbow Dash’s gaze. The two mares exchanged a knowing little nod. A moment later Spitfire was sitting on the stool only a few feet from where Rainbow Dash leaned.
“Screwdriver and make it a double,” Spitfire exclaimed.
“Hard day?” Rainbow Dash inquired.
Spitfire ignored the comment and paid for her drink. The moment her bits were on the table, Spitfire picked up the glass and downed its contents in two quick gulps.
“Another,” Spitfire ordered.
The barkeep nodded and did just that.
This time Spitfire sipped at the drink, releasing a long sigh after the liquid hit her belly.
“You could say that,” Spitfire remarked, glancing at Rainbow Dash out of the corner of her eye.
“Well, shit girl. You wanna talk about it or drink until you forget why you are drinking.?” Rainbow Dash asked, sipping her beverage absently.
“Maybe in a minute. For now, why don't you tell me what you're doing around these parts,” Spitfire replied. “The next practice isn't for another week.”
“Dad is in the hospital,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “Nothing serious mind you. Just a bit of a heart-related scare but by the time he was out it was already pretty late.”
“You wouldn't wanna fly back with the wind being the way it is,” Spitfire muttered. “We ain't as young as we used to be.”
“Oh I could make it if I really wanted to but I ain't got nothing to prove. That and I could really use some time away from Ponyville,” Rainbow Dash declared, shrugging to herself.
“I thought you had a whole harem of mares dangling on your dick. Why wouldn't you wanna be back there,” Spitfire retorted, her lips curling into something close to a bitter frown.
“I guess you could call it that but everyone’s busy for one reason or another,” Rainbow Dash answered. “Library convention, and an outbreak of feather flu to name just a few.”
“You are so hard done by,” Spitfire spat.
“Hey, you asked,” Rainbow Dash retorted.
“Sorry,” Spitfire exclaimed, raising a weary hoof. “Just pissy after a fucked up day.”
“Speaking a which. You gonna spill what happened or should I wait and read about it in the paper tomorrow?” Rainbow Dash pressed.
“You can read?” Spitfire muttered before downing the rest of her drink.
“Spits… you're crossin’ a line here,” Rainbow Dash warned.
“You're right just… give me a second,” Spitfire murmured, turning to the bartender. “Two of whatever she’s drinking.”
More bits were traded, and suddenly Spitfire was standing up.
“Where we sittin'?” She offered.
“Booth at the back,” Rainbow Dash answered, downing the rest of her drink.
Spitfire nodded.
The pair flew or trotted near the back of the bar, to one of the few out-of-the-way spots in the establishment. Someone could still easily spot them if they tried, but they were out of view from the majority of the bar. The two mares plunked down across from one another, with Spitfire passing Rainbow Dash one cider before taking a swig of the other.
“So we had an incident at one of our training camps earlier today,” Spitfire finally declared.
“No shit? Huh, no wonder you’re stressed,” Rainbow Dash murmured, accepting the beverage and taking a swig herself. “Hospital or morgue?”
“Nothing quite that grim,” Spitfire dismissed. “Just a twisted wing, and some bruised egos.”
“I know what that's like,” Rainbow Dash grunted.
“It wasn't too bad but the thing that gets me, and why I’m a bit worried is because I didn't notice anything wrong,” Spitfire confided, the mare deflating slightly. “I just chalked it up to good-natured ribbing and kept on like normal.”
“Lemme guess. A competition got out of hand?” Rainbow Dash pressed.
“You could say that,” Spitfire answered. “They ended up getting the exact same time and declared that they needed a redo in order to determine a winner.”
Rainbow Dash sipped her drink and waited as Spitfire collected her thoughts.
“I thought it was good practice so I let them go despite the complaints of my second in command,” Spitfire sighed. “I really shoulda listened to him.”
“Crashed?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“No a fight actually,” Spitfire replied. “The two blockheads tied three more times before coming to blows. Thankfully they were too exhausted to do anything more than awkwardly wrestle on a cloud.”
“And the twisted wing?” Rainbow Dash prompted.
“One of them fell out of the cloud,” Spitfire answered.
Rainbow Dash snorted, barely holding back laughter.
“Normally I’d find it hilarious but they both quit after that, leaving us short-winged,” Spitfire declared. “Worse still, Split Feather was right from the very beginning.”
Spitfire’s face contorted bitterly.
“Their competition wasn't friendly, it was going to escalate, and I shouldn't have let them continue racing,” Spitfire exclaimed. “If I had listened none of that would have happened.”
“So? You’re gonna make some bad calls. No one’s perfect,” Rainbow Dash declared.
“I just can't shake the thought that I should retire. Give Split Feather their due and spend the rest of my days as a lecturer or something,” Spitfire shrunk in her chair, shoulders pulling inward. “Or maybe I’ll just spend all my time here, pickling my innards with the rest of the drunks.”
“Maybe you should. Retire that is, not the pickling your guts with cheap vodka,” Rainbow Dash offered.
“Thanks for the pick me up Crash,” Spitfire spat. “And here I thought you were gonna pat me on the back and use this as an excuse to get into my pants.”
“You don't even wear pants, you old bird,” Rainbow Dash shot back.
“Ha, true,” Spitfire agreed.
“But seriously. There is no shame in stepping back and letting others take the spotlight,” Rainbow Dash pressed on. “You’re already the second longest-running team lead in history. Never mind all your other records and accomplishments. Your legacy is secure.”
“I mean… I guess,” Spitfire murmured.
“But you ain't retiring. I’m telling you that right now,” Rainbow Dash hastily added. “You’re just taking on a leadership position lower on the totem pole. They are still gonna need you to teach, to make sure everyone gets paid, and whatever bullshit responsibility you’ve hoisted on yourself over the years because you like being so damn busy.”
“Haha, true,” Spitfire declared, a grin coming to her face.
“Seriously girl. There’s no shame in taking a step back. I mean look at me,” Rainbow Dash proclaimed, opening her forehooves. “I’ve spent forever in the reserves because anything more would mean I’d have to move away from Ponyville and I can't leave them hanging like that.”
“I always thought you’d be the next team lead,” Spitfire offered, pausing to take a sip of her drink. “You had the skill at least.”
“I know my limits. I ain't a leader,” Rainbow Dash replied with a shrug. “I just don't have the sauce as Scoots likes to say.”
“Since when have you been so calm and collected?” Spitfire remarked.
“Honestly not until a few months ago,” Rainbow Dash admitted. “After my relationship status changed I had to really start really thinking long term ya know? Stop flying by the seat of my pants and make some real plans. Other than my long-term decision to simply win the lottery lottery and retire by forty. Which is rapidly approaching now that I’m thinking about it.”
“Hmmm,” Spitfire hummed, sipping at her drink.
“It's a matter of perspective as Twi would probably say,” Rainbow Dash added.
“That’s a fair way of putting things I suppose,” Spitfire declared. “Say. Do you need a place to stay tonight?”
“I mean not really. My parents still kept my old room the way it was,” Rainbow Dash began, leaning forward. “Unless you’re inviting me over for a sleepover.”
“Something like that,” Spitfire muttered.
“Is the ice queen finally melting?” Rainbow Dash prodded. “I thought you were one of those ponies who didn't need such… comforts.”
“We all have our needs,” Spitfire retorted. “I just have fewer needs than most and since you didn't actively attempt to get into my non-existent pants I’m actually more intrigued than I would be otherwise.”
“Well I’m glad to help you out for a night, but contrary to what you might think I ain't the one-night stand type a gal. Well, not anymore anyway,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“That's fair,” Spitfire murmured, the pony picking at the label on her empty beer bottle. “But surely you’ve felt something between us before.”
“Yeah like a decade ago,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.
“Come now,” Spitfire began, leaning forward and taking Rainbow Dash’s hoof. “Surely that flame hasn't died completely. Even embers come back to life with the right touch after all.”
“That… that actually doesn't sound half bad,” Rainbow Dash remarked. “So what's the plan then? We grab a twelve, head back to your place and fuck like rabbits? Then never speak of it again.”
“All but that last part,” Spitfire replied. “I think I’d like it if this happened again. Provided you are as good as half of Ponyville says you are.”
“That reminds me. I’ve got enough kids on the way that I could theoretically start my own Wonderbolts competitor,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “Assuming over half end up Pegasi, or griffon.”
“Oooh now that would be amusing,” purred Spitfire. “Maybe I should contribute a rug rat or two to this theoretical team you’re building. They’ll need a strong leader after all.”
“I… really?” Rainbow Dash whispered, leaning in close. “You’d let me well ya know.”
“Cum inside me? Knock me up? Stuff my womb with enough baby batter to start a bakery? You betcha. If you are as good as they say,” Spitfire added with a smirk.
Something hard hit the underside of the table. A second later Rainbow Dash winced, her forehooves going under the table to grab at something between her back legs.
“Did you just get so hard your dick hit the bottom of this table?” Spitfire exclaimed in a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“Yes,” Rainbow Dash hissed.
“Damn, I knew you were hung what with all the showers we shared but holy shit you are one girthy girl,” Spitfire teased.
“This hurts so much,” Rainbow Dash murmured.
“That's probably all the diseases you're getting from the underside of this table,” Spitfire added, tapping the oak top in emphasis.
“Shut up and help me or I’m going home and masturbating into the toilet like I’m fifteen all over again,” Rainbow Dash croaked.
“Eh old timer, toss me a rag!” Spitfire shouted.
The bartender reached behind the counter.
“A clean one!” Spitfire interrupted.
The bartender paused and moved her hoof far to the right. A second later a rag slapped welty against the table.
Rainbow Dash muttered bitterly, but accepted the rag, using it briefly before tossing it into the closest garbage can.
“You good?” Spitfire asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Why don't you get the drinks? I’ll meet you at the door,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“You know you could just ask for a peak at the goods ya know. You’re going to be inside me in only a few short minutes,” Spitfire teased.
“Just go get the beer already. I really don't want to have to walk out of here with a stiffy,” Rainbow Dash whined.
“Nah. You know what, you’re coming with me,” Spitfire declared, grabbing Rainbow Dash and hauling her out of the booth. “I want everyone to know I’m taking you home with me.”
Rainbow Dash spat and sputtered, but quickly fell quiet when it became obvious that she wasn't about to escape the other mare’s grasp. She held on too tightly, leaving the speedster with little else to do but stand as proud as she was able to be while getting dragged through the bar. Everyone who paused and glanced their way inevitably glanced between her legs, as if Rainbow Dash’s cock had a strange magnetism to it.
Not like she could blame them, though their stares were not saved for her alone. More than a few of the ponies present at the pegasus bar stared enviously at Spitfire. The enigmatic leader of the Wonderbolts rarely seemed to grace the public with her presence. And now not only had she appeared in a bar, but she was leaving with a fellow bolt, the pair obviously intimate with one another.
They paused only briefly at the bar, with Spitfire overpaying for a twelve of whatever cider they had on hoof. Once payment was given, they walked over to the exit. There Spitfire paused and shot Rainbow Dash a wide smile.
“Ready for a little race?” She asked.
“Always,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“Good, but you gotta carry the cider,” Spitfire declared.
The Wonderbolt then shoved the box into Rainbow Dash’s hooves before taking off, a flaming trail following behind her.
“Heh, you’re on,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, a wide smile crossing her face.
Author's Note
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“How,” Spitfire began, pausing to pant and clutch at her chest. “How are you still so fast?”
“You have no idea how much cardio I do,” Rainbow Dash dismissed. “Seriously. I’ve been running a marathon twice daily for like six months at this point.”
“Quit rubbing your win in my face and throw those in the fridge,” Spitfire complained.
“Hey, I ain't being a poor winner or nothing. You did great and that was really close,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“Thank you, Rainbow Dash. Now get that cute tush in the kitchen. I hate warm booze,” Spitfire shot back.
“Alright Cap,” Rainbow Dash dutifully exclaimed.
The speedster hummed a nonsensical tune to herself as she trotted into the kitchen, shaking off a few stray bits of snow that had gotten stuck in her mane. A hoof helped get rid of the white flakes before brushing her shoulders down. With her head clear of the irritating ice crystals, Rainbow Dash pulled out a pair of ciders and then tossed the remainder in the fridge.
She was about to close the door when she noticed how empty it was.
“Looks like my old place. Nothing but moldy food, condiments, and stale beer,” Rainbow Dash murmured, glancing about the room. “The rest of the place looks clean enough even if there's enough dust on this oven that it could be a fire hazard.”
Rainbow Dash wiped her hoof over the top of the range and scowled at the grey mass that clung to her limb.
“You comin' or do I gotta start this party all on my lonesome?” Spitfire shouted.
“One sec!” Rainbow Dash shouted back.
Flicking the tops off the bottles, Rainbow Dash tucked them under a wing before strutting back into the main room. It was only then that she realized just how big the other Wonderbolt’s house was.
A wide sweeping staircase wrapped around the edge of the room while a balcony overlooked the living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows would have added incredible illumination if it wasn't so late. That job now lay in the hands of the chandelier hanging overhead, the cobweb-filled mass of crystal lighting the place up fairly well.
“Whoowee, fancy place,” Rainbow Dash remarked. “I bet Rarity would have a field day with all them fancy couches and architectural whatsits.”
“My house isn't the only beautiful thing here,” Spitfire interrupted.
Rainbow Dash glanced over to find that the other Wonderbolt was standing halfway down the stairs, a wide grin on her face. Her clothing had been discarded, and her fur had received a brief, but thorough drying. Though she appeared slightly disheveled, Spitfire made it look intentional in a way that Rainbow Dash couldn't quite explain.
Where some of her partners had been prodigious in one area or another, Spitfire had none of that. She had no massive flanks, no titanic teets, or legs that went on forever. What she did have was a body perfectly toned, and sculpted by a careful hoof who knew exactly what she wanted.
Rainbow Dash didn't know if it was the lighting or what, but it felt like, in that instance, she could see every last muscle group the mare had. A champion flyer, her back, and shoulders were the most dominant part of her, yet they weren't alone. Her legs were also thin, but well-muscled, while her neck was strong though not so wide as to have an odd proportion.
Yes, there were signs of age there, Spitfire was over a decade Rainbow Dash’s senior after all, and the prismatic pegasus wasn't as young as she used to be. Rainbow could spot the wrinkles that were being held back by cardio and skin care routines. The crow's feet that were hidden by makeup, and eyes so radiant that they outshone any attempt to mar her beauty.
Spitfire was older, that fact was unavoidable, but that did not mean she was not frighteningly attractive.
“So, how do I compare against those young hussys you have at home?” Spitfire remarked, smirking down at the other mare.
“You don't.”
“What?”
“I mean-” Rainbow Dash coughed into her hoof. “You don't compare but you don't have to. To pit you against them would be to insult you both.”
“That's a start,” Spitfire murmured.
“It's like comparing a sunset to a flower, both are beautiful, but how would you even compare the two?” Rainbow Dash continued. “You cannot compliment the flower’s aroma without insulting the sunset. Just as you cannot compliment the waning rays of day and their subtle warmth without insulting the flower.”
“That's… quite poetic,” Spitfire remarked.
“Thanks. Rarity’s got me into poetry lately but that's not the point,” Rainbow Dash dismissed. “The point is that you are both so wholly unique with your own special qualities that if you asked me who was superior I wouldn't have an answer. Nor do I think that there is one for that matter.”
“You’ve turned into quite the charmer you know,” Spitfire pointed out, chuckling.
“Thanks. Just uh don't ask me to keep that up. I think I’m all out of eloquent things to say,” Rainbow Dash remarked with a chuckle of her own.
“How about we walk and talk, hmm?” Spitfire offered, gesturing towards the second floor.
“Sounds good, oh and here,” Rainbow Dash countered, extending a wing, cider balanced neatly atop it.
“Appreciated,” Spitfire replied.
Together the pair walked up the stairs, and started down the hall, sipping their drinks on occasion.
“So what else have you picked up from your harem?” Spitfire prompted, bumping her hip against Rainbow Dash’s side.
“Oh lots,” Rainbow Dash muttered, glancing up in thought. “Twilight has me reading historical fiction which I never thought I’d like.”
“Really?”
“The questions are all kinda cool. Like, what if Commander Hurricane hadn't allied with the early equestrian government? That kind of thing,” Rainbow Dash answered. “What else? Fluttershy convinced me to try taking care of shrimp and that's been going really well.”
“Shrimp, really?”
“Hey, they are pretty cool little guys. Plus I got their tank so optimized I could leave for like, a month and they’ll be fine. They’re independent, like me,” Rainbow Dash counted.
“Debatable,” Spitfire countered.
Spitfire took the lead and stepped into her bedroom.
“Sweet digs,” Rainbow Dash remarked, stopping in front of a large glass case. “Wait, is that really the flag Captain Cumulus carried with him during the first cross-Equestria flight?”
“That it is, but we both know that story. What I want to know is what else is new with you,” Spitfire pressed.
“Oh uh yeah,” Rainbow Dash murmured, the mare barely able to tear her gaze away from the plethora of Wonderbolt Memorabilia that covered the walls. “So where were we?”
“I believe you were talking about your shrimp,” Spitfire pointed out, pausing to take another swig of her drink.
“Oh right,” Rainbow Dash paused to think. “Applejack and I cook sometimes. I mostly chop stuff and do all the bending because she's got twins right now. Pinkie Pie and I hike every other week. Or snowshoe, depending on the temperature.”
“I’ve always wanted to try that,” murmured Spitfire thoughtfully.
“It's pretty fun- oh and Scootaloo got me into skateboarding. Which is like, way harder than it looks,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.
“Even for you? I thought you were the master of all that goes fast,” Spitfire countered.
“Ha, I wish,” Rainbow Dash spat. “Skateboarding is hard and takes real hoof coordination. What else?”
Rainbow Dash hummed.
“Apple Bloom convinced me to start a family scrapbook which I was actually pretty okay with since I have like, a ton of kids now,” Rainbow Dash added.
“How many exactly?”
“I think… thirteen? No wait, then there was Twilight the other week,” Rainbow Dash murmured.
“You lost track of how many kids you have?” Spitfire shot back, the mare barely holding back laughter.
“Hey! Some of them may or may not be mine. We haven't had the chance to check which of Fluttershy’s were Pinkie Pie’s and which were mine. Also, there was this whole thing where Applejack got her hooves on a futa potion and it became this whole thing,” Rainbow Dash dismissed. “Not like I care about the whole blood relation thing. They’re all mine in a way.”
“Adorable,” Spitfire commented, leaning against Rainbow Dash’s shoulder.
“Yeah, they totally are. Never thought I’d enjoy being a parent, but here we are,” Rainbow Dash murmured.
“So,” Rainbow Dash began again. “Would you mind if I stuck around for a few days? Or would you rather I cum and run?”
“I wouldn't mind the company, but what exactly did you have in mind?” Spitfire pressed.
“Well, we gotta make sure it takes, right?” Rainbow Dash replied with a smirk. “Sure I might be the most virile she stud this side of the Vanhoover but ya never know.”
“And?” Spitfire pressed.
“And I thought we could clean this place up a bit. Get to know one another better,” Rainbow Dash added. “Sure we’ve known one another professionally for like, forever but I can count on one wing every time we’ve been alone in a room with one another.”
“And that number probably gets cut in half if you don't count all the times I had to call you into my office,” Spitfire remarked, chuckling to herself.
“True,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “Plus, you are going to be the mother of my child and I know you don't want me there all the time but I still wanna be able to gel with ya, ya know?”
“I get it,” Spitfire muttered.
“Sweet, well I better grab us another,” Rainbow Dash began, snagging the empty bottle out of Spitfire’s grasp and standing up. “Wouldn't want you getting thirsty.”
“Oh I’m thirsty already,” Spitfire interrupted. “But not for cider.”
A hoof caught Rainbow Dash’s shoulder and before the mare knew what was going on, she had been spun around and forced into a kiss. The empty bottles were tossed aside, the cider forgotten in favor of the warmth found in one another. Surprised, but not startled, Rainbow Dash immediately leaned back into the embrace, kissing Spitfire back and matching her intensity.
Tongues flicked back and forth while hooves explored one another’s bodies. Though it seemed mutual, there was a competition bubbling just under the surface. Both were trying to stake their claim, to be the one on top and to take the other as their own.
Rainbow Dash’s first reaction was to push back, to rest control of her tongue, and to push Spitfire down. Yet, she had a feeling that wouldn't end well, even if Rainbow Dash was the physically stronger of the pair. Dominant though she may be, this time Rainbow Dash bit back her desires, and let her partner take the lead.
Spitfire felt this shift and pushed further, exploring her partner’s mouth while roaming further down the other mare’s body. A hoof gripped tight Rainbow Dash’s burgeoning erection, holding it for a moment before the kiss finally broke.
“MMm thank you,” Spitfire whispered. “You can have your way with me another time, but for now, I need to make you mine.”
“Well go on,” Rainbow Dash retorted, leaning in and nipping at the other mare’s neck. “Take me then, if you have the stones.”
“Oh, I got the stones alright,” Spitfire shot back.
A twist, a shove, and Rainbow Dash was lying on her back, staring up at the cloud ceiling, a grin on her face. She glanced down just in time to see Spitfire step up onto the bed and begin striding towards her, a wider, hungrier smile crossing her own features.
It was at this moment that Rainbow Dash realized something that she had not thought of.
Spitfire was a milf.
Sure she didn't have any kids of herself, at least not yet, but everything else was there. The age difference, the giant house, the sex life that was deader than disco. She was a milf, and not only that, she was Rainbow Dash’s first milf.
“I’m going to assume that smile is because you are enjoying the show,” Spitfire declared, stopping only when she was looming directly over the other mare. “Either that or you want me to step on you.”
“You are just really really pretty,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“You are so sweet that you make me want to give you the girlfriend treatment,” Spitfire remarked with a chuckle.
“I’m down if you are,” Rainbow Dash countered.
“Hmmm, good,” Spitfire declared, running a wing tip down Rainbow Dash’s cheek. “There will be time testing our endurance and breaking beds later. Right now I want to take things nice, and slow.”
“I can do slow,” Rainbow Dash murmured.
The two mares kissed one another deeply, their lips locking briefly before tongues darted forth and their dance began in earnest. Spitfire was eager to probe her partner's mouth, darting in, and teasing the other pony with small, short and intense kisses. While she peppered Rainbow Dash in short pecks, her wings were caressing the other mare’s body, leaving the prismatic pegasus twitching and eager.
No matter how eager she got, however, Rainbow Dash held herself back and merely enjoyed the attention. It wasn't her usual style or her usual speed but to go so fast so quick off the hop would have felt wrong somehow. The change of pace was nice, and not only that but there was a spark here, one that Rainbow Dash didn't want to smother by moving too fast.
“Mmm, let's see what we are working with here,” Spitfire murmured, breaking the kiss.
Rainbow Dash just smiled and watched as the other mare broke away, moving further down the bed.
“Oh my, you are a big girl, aren't you?” Spitfire exclaimed, running a hoof down Rainbow Dash’s firm length.
“You act like you haven't seen it a million times in the shower.”
“That may be,” Spitfire admitted. “But there is something much different about seeing it flaccid and in pacing. It is another to behold it so closely.”
“Well, you have it. What next?” Rainbow Dash pressed.
“Next? I get you lubed up. Then I ride you until you blow a fat load straight in my womb,” Spitfire retorted.
“You are so fucking hot.”
“Don't you forget it.”
With that small declaration made, Spitfire leaned, down and opened her mouth wide. A wing guided Rainbow Dash’s erection to her lips and past it, the mottled teal dick disappearing inside the other mare.
Lying there, with her forehooves behind her head, Rainbow Dash was as comfortable as can be while having the perfect view. She watched as Spitfire slid down further and further, coating the futa mare’s length in a thick layer of slimy spit. The feeling was amazing, and Rainbow Dash almost wished she would stay down there longer.
Yet the other mare didn't linger once her lips pressed against Rainbow Dash’s crotch and her job was done. Length slick with spit, Spitfire stuck around for a moment or two just to tease out a few shuddering moans. Then with her teasing complete, she pulled back in a single fluid motion, ascending back up to the tip.
With an audible, and possibly exaggerated pop, Spitfire released Rainbow Dash’s cock.
“Mmm, not bad. You take good care of yourself,” Spitfire remarked, wiping her lips on a feather. “Even your cock tastes good.”
“Nothing a little high-quality soap can't handle,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“Now then. Let's get on to the real thing,” Spitfire declared.
A wingtip held Rainbow Dash’s cock upright and in position while Spitfire strode forward. With a deftness that could only be born of a lifetime of athleticism, Spitfire inserted her lover’s cock inside of her and began to lean back. Warm, wet folds gripped tight Rainbow Dash’s length, massaging the turgid length as it slid deeper still.
“Mmmm, you feel great,” purred Rainbow Dash.
“You feel great?” Spitfire mocked, pausing her descent and giving her hips a wiggle. “Where did that eloquence go, hmm?”
“I told you I’m all out of it. The best I got now is awkward compliments, and the occasional grunt,” Rainbow Dash shot back.
“I’ll take it,” Spitfire proclaimed.
Throwing herself back, the mare swallowed the rest of Rainbow Dash’s length, their hips connected. Pausing there, Spitfire ran a hoof up and down the slight bulge her lover made in her midsection.
“That does feel good,” Spitfire agreed.
“Told ya,” Rainbow Dash shot back with a smirk.
“Shh, you. The time for words has passed,” Spitfire dismissed.
The moment the declaration left her lips, Spitfire began to move. She started slow, deliberate, a slight bounce just to test the waters. Seeing where things were going, Rainbow Dash reached up and placed her hooves on her lover’s side.
Up and down Spitfire went, the mare slowly but steadily building up pace. As this happened, she would occasionally lean down and plant a kiss on the other mare’s lips. All while a forehoof caressed Rainbow Dash’s chest, running down her powerful abdominal muscles.
Spitfire wasn't the only one who was enjoying the firmness of the other’s body. Rainbow Dash could feel her appreciation for Spitfire’s sleek form growing with each second. Each chiseled muscle group only made her more excited and more eager to put a baby in the mare.
A fat flank and a big old pair of heavy hangers were great and all, but it was a wonderbolt that had caused her first sexual awakening and all that old desire came roaring back. It was almost enough to make her break her concentration and grab the other pony but she resisted that urge. They would take things slowly at first, they would explore one another’s bodies and revel in the intimacy.
Once that was done, all bets were off and Rainbow Dash knew they’d be destroying beds in no time.
Spitfire nipped at Rainbow Dash’s neck before sitting up a little more, shooting her lover a little grin. Now out of range of kisses, Spitfire had a bit more leverage and a bit more room. She put both of these things to use immediately, speeding up slightly.
The slightly wet thwap of flesh meeting flesh was punctuated by the occasional grunt from Rainbow Dash or the slightly more feminine moans that slipped past Spitfire’s lips. The slightly sweet smell of alcohol that came from Spitfire’s breath smelled strange and pleasant, to Rainbow Dash. Even the slowly building scent of sweat was enticing in an odd way, joining the cocktail of sensory experiences assaulting the young mare.
Rainbow Dash could feel her balls churn, cum building in her fat balls. She hadn't blown a load in what was only a few days, though to the speedster it felt like forever. Slightly backed up, she was eager for release but held back the worst of her urges.
Instead, she focused that temptation to a laser point.
Her forehooves grabbed Spitfire’s waist, and her own hips thrust up just as Spitfire went almost all the way down. It was a small, almost submissive move that spurned Spitfire to move a little quicker.
Keeping one forehoof on Rainbow Dash’s chest, Spitfire began to bounce faster. Her toned, well-muscled hips rippled as they went up and down, controlling every motion and ensuring her partner only moved the way Spitfire wanted her to. That level of restraint would usually make Rainbow Dash annoyed, yet here, beneath her childhood idol, and young adult crush, she didn't even mind.
Spitfire flashed her partner a cocky smirk before bumping things up and going a little faster still. At that point, their pace could be described as quick, with the thwap, thwap of flesh meeting flesh being only a heartbeat or two apart. A tempo that Rainbow Dash easily matched, thrusting up as Spitfire came down.
Each time this happened, Rainbow Dash could see the small bulge in her lover’s stomach grow ever so slightly. The sight of it was hot, and Rainbow Dash knew that it would only get hotter once she got the chance to really unload. Just the mental image of Spitfire sporting a slightly sloshing belly of jizz was enough to make Rainbow Dash’s cock twitch eagerly in anticipation.
“You feel so good,” Spitfire whispered, the mare biting her lip and stifling a particularly powerful moan.
“You ain't so bad yourself, captain,” Rainbow Dash replied. “I don't know how long I’m going to last.”
“Forget restraint. Give me everything you got,” Spitfire demanded in a low growl.
“Yes, my captain,” Rainbow Dash eagerly replied.
Shifting her forehooves lower, Rainbow Dash grabbed Spitfire by the ass. The moment her grip was secure, Rainbow Dash shifted her body and began to thrust hard. The thud of the first impact was loud and stopped Spitfire dead in her tracks. Biting down on a forehoof, Spitfire could do nothing but crouch there as Rainbow Dash pounded her for all she was worth.
Over and over and over, Rainbow Dash thrust forward, slamming herself as deep and as fast as possible. Restraint was tossed aside as both mares rushed headlong into their first orgasm. Neither had to speak a word, they just knew that the other was close and that the end was rapidly approaching.
Spitfire released her hoof and moaned long and hard, bracing herself against the headboard. Rainbow Dash grunted a little deeper, the mare growling as she slammed herself as deep as possible into Spitfire’s tight, dripping-wet cunt.
“Here it comes!” Rainbow Dash shouted.
“Yes, yes. Give it to me!” Spitfire yelled back, the mare nearly slipping back into her drill instructor voice.
Throwing herself into the act, Rainbow Dash pushed herself to go as fast as possible. For a moment she almost mourned the slow but steady pace but she pushed that thought quickly out of her mind. A sprint to the finish line was always fun, after all.
With one final grunt, Rainbow Dash threw her hips forward for the last time. While Rainbow Dash pushed up, Spitfire shoved herself down, eager to swallow every last inch. And she accomplished this with aplomb, taking every last millimeter of futa cock before also taking the first blast of jizz.
The eruption of cum was enormous, with the impact striking Spitfire at such a perfect angle that her orgasm spiked along with it. The intense pleasure drowned out all other thoughts until Spitfire could sense her belly begin to grow heavy. A hoof pressed against her now bloated womb, the slight impact causing it to slosh every so slightly.
But the virile mare wasn't done yet, and more cum erupted from the tip of her dick, joining the small ocean already locked in Spitfire’s depths. Over a minute later, the pair exchanged what felt like a simultaneous gasp of release, their orgasms having finally ended.
Spitfire slumped down, laying her head against Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. While the prismatic pegasus sighed, and fell into the bedding, a blissful expression on her face. They remained that way for several minutes, catching their breath and simply bathing in the afterglow.
“You were… amazing,” Rainbow Dash muttered.
“You were pretty good yourself, Crash,” Spitfire teased.
“Now that's a nickname I haven't heard in a while,” Rainbow Dash mused.
“I could go back to your name. If you’d like.”
“No! No,” Rainbow Dash repeated, softer this time. “It's different when you say it.”
“Then it is settled, Crash,” Spitfire pressed, nipping at the other pony’s neck. “Ready for round two?”
“Mind if I grab another cider? We could fuck on the kitchen table,” Rainbow Dash offered.
“Nah that would kill my back. Let's fuck on that fancy couch downstairs. I never got the chance to break that one in,” Spitfire countered.
“Ooh, I’ll be your first. How exciting,” Rainbow Dash teased back.
“Best treat me right then,” Spitfire retorted.
“You know I will,” Rainbow Dash promised.
Author's Note
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