This is a 60 Minute Challenge I had with the writer Lunar-tic. If you care to judge, know this, you must read both and comment on both to prove you read both of them. All positive comments will be counted as 1-point. These were done in an our with no spellcheck or grammar check. You can grade accordingly about grammar and/or spelling and it will add up in the total.
Prompt: Male Character, under 18, and Panties.
Soarin' jumped awake
Where the fuck am I?
He was laying on a rather large bed that was complete chaos. Pillows laid around everywhere and the comforter was nowhere to be found. The sheets lay tangled around each other.
Where am I?
Across from the bed was a dresser with a mirror on it. All across the mirror were pictures of him and the Wonderbolts. Two Wonderbolts flight suits laid across the dresser where they had been thrown.
He was obviously in a cloud house, based on the fluffy bed house itself. A bottle of lube was laying on one of the pillows. Soarin' tried to get up but found his hooves and body caught in the outfit he was wearing. He rolled over and found it hurt to sit.
The fuck? he asked himself.
He racked his brain for what had happened last night...
"Friday Bitches!!" Soarin' yelled at the top of his lungs. He was ecstatic. He had finally made his way into the Wonderboltsl below the age of eighteen.
"Well, we know who's excited," said Spitfire.
"Hell yeah! It's Friday and it's time to raise some hell!" he said as the entire Wonderbolts squadron made it's way into town.
"To the Irish Pub!" yelled Fleetfoot.
"Fuck yeah!" they all yelled together.
They tried unsuccessfully to fit through the door together, wedging themselves together and looking like fools.
"Eh! You guys are back!" said the bartender.
"Yep, the Wonderbolts are ready to drink up!" Soarin' yelled.
"Hahaha! You guys always bring the life of the party," he chucked happily.
The squad pulled themselves up to the bar as he threw out Irish beers to all of them, and they all downed the first glass together.
"Party time, ponies!" yelled Vinyl Scratch from behind her turntables.
The dance floor erupted with light and music.
The Wonderbolts all broke away from the bar and flew for the dance floor, immeaditly partnering with the other patrons who made they're way there.
"Let the Beat Drop!" and Vinyl compiled. The dance floor was blasted with loud music and pure awesome wubs.
The dance floor was instantly turned into a giant gryting pit. Soarin' found himself paired with a gorgeous white unicorn who moved like a liquid against his body. She smiled and gryted harder against him.
"Uh, I don't think so," a fiery orange hoof pulled the unicorn away from Soarin'.
"You're mine," said Spitfire, as she smiled a predator grin.
He smiled a massive grin and leapt into motion with her.
They pushed deep into the crowd and pressed against each other. Their sweaty bodies sliding over each other. Her chest pressed against his and she gryted her hips on his. She mashed her mouth against his and they were soon lipped locked and still danced energetically. They shoved together and neither minded as their bodies slid around each other.
She broke off, much to his disappointment. "If you want more, let's get back to my place," she said seductivly.
"Let's go then," he said confidently.
Oh, right. Wait, what the hell am I wearing?!?
He stared at the mirror. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail and he was wearing...
A maids outfit.
What the fuck?! he glanced down at his crotch and saw black panties barely containing his manhood.
He tore his gaze away from the mirror as a flush came from the bathroom as the plumbing did it's work.
"Ah, that was refreshing," said Spitfire as she stepped out of the bathroom. Soarin's mouth hit the floor. She was completely nude, standing bipedal in the doorway and swinging between her legs...
"Ready for round two?" she asked, her hoof stroking the massive strap-on.
Remember to read Lunar-tic's 60 minute writing challenge as well!
We both also did 15 minute writing challenges as well so read those for a laugh and/or to judge.
15 Minute Challenge
Prompt; Ist Person, Young Policemen, 2075, and a talking bomb.
The young Sun guard, Babbling Brooks, sighed contentedly. It was my break and my hoof had a date.
My modern armor clinked as I trotted down the sterile hallway. My communicator beeped on my forearm but I ignored it.
I made way to the bathroom, determined to make the most of my break.
I found an empty stall and sat on the brand new toilet, quickly getting comfortable.
"Ah," I said aloud, "Just me, my hoof, and my manhood."
I reached down to my crotch and felt the cold rod between my legs.
Wait, cold rod? I thought to myself. Panic began to set in as I hurriedly pulled my armored trousers to y ankles.
"What the fuck?!?!?" I screamed.
I reached hoof to touched the metallic cylindrical rod between my legs. It was shaped like my manhood and moved like it, explaining why I didn't notice it until now.
I inspected the faux cock, turning it this way and that. I turned it nearly full around and noticed a small screen with a clock slowly ticking down.
"The fuck?" I asked my dick.
"I am the brand new dick bomb developed by the terrorist group in 2075," said the penis through the hole in the top.
"Holy shit!!" I screamed.
"Hey, any chance we could get laid in the ten seconds before I blow?" it asked.
A/N Hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it!
Please note, nothing can be held against this author for I'm am quite literally bleeding out of the back of my head as I write this author's note.
