Rainbow Dash: Dashing Rainbows
You look up, across the midday sky, the harsh light of the sun blotted out by the seemingly random splattering of clouds strewn across your vision. By all accounts, a brilliant day, one of the best for a long while. It's just coming out of winter, everypony has been missing the sunshine - much as the snow is fun for the little fillies and foals, and Pinkie Pie, it's not so great for everyone else. Not least yourself - your bipedal frame is less stable on the slippery ice and your lack of a furry coat makes the harsh winter all the worse.
Not today, though, today is beautiful. Strolling through the busy town you feel the warm air brush against your skin, and you smile and wave at the happy ponies strolling around town, all on their way to exciting new adventures, or something of the sort. They'll meet it with enthusiasm, they always do.
Your adventure for the day is going to grab a copy of the weather schedules for the next few weeks over your lunch break, just to make sure you don't get caught in any particularly nasty storms. Walking through the town, the architecture shining in the comfortable climate, you add a subitem to your mental checklist - thank the pony responsible.
If you can find her, that is. The weather office (It's a cloud. Let's be honest here, it's just a cloud. Some ponies have delusions of grandeur) is completely empty. You're pretty sure there are laws against that, especially right in the middle of spring, an important time for all of the little animals coming out of hibernation and getting their lives back together - or so Fluttershy would tell you, anyway. Alas, there's nopony there.
Who's on duty this time of day? The question answers itself, really - it's Rainbow Dash, isn't it? Everypony else takes their job seriously. On the other hand, if this is her sky, then you really can't fault her work. Still, without a manned office, both of your tasks are impossible to complete, so it's time to go looking for a Rainbow Dash.
Heading back into town, you start to ask around - nobody's seen her. Not even the flower sisters, and they always seem to notice her flying above them, though Dash always misinterprets the chorus of squeals she leaves in her wake. Pinkie says you should go out into the fields she normally practices in, "she'll probably be there, silly". You thank her and start for the outskirts of town, walking quickly so to not waste any more of your time on this ridiculous wild goose chase.
Making it to the field, you quickly spot her, curled up on a cloud. Your annoyance at her just melts away, she's that adorable. The way her tail wraps around her body, hugging into her legs, and the way her nose wobbles slightly as she takes another light breath, her chest rising and falling in sync. More than that, as your eyes trace along the lines in her toned muscles, you start to appreciate her athletic build.
She's a surprisingly attractive pony up close - you've only ever seen her zipping past you in the sky, barely a blur at the speeds she usually travels at. Not now, though - now she's not doing anything quickly. She's clearly dreaming of it, you realise, watching her wings quiver slightly in response to unreal stimuli, but out here in the real world, she's still. You take a good look, seeing how her rainbow trail isn't just trickery, her mane is actually multi-coloured like that, somehow. It's pretty.
You hear a crack from under your feet as you snap a well placed stick. It draws your attention downwards, and you see similar sticks all around, almost like they'd been purposefully set arou-
"Oh, hey, sorry about that! Heh, you shouldn't sneak up on me like that! No harm done, right?"
You're on the ground, Dash on top of you, her face inches away from yours and her wings stretched out, probably to appear intimidating. Apparently somepony HAD set those up, and it woke Dash up. Violently. No harm done? Your aching back would disagree with that, but nothing seems to be broken, just bruised. You shakily nod, her blow having knocked the air out of you, and gasp to try and catch your breath.
"Ah, jeez, sorry. Maybe I was a little jumpy, I don't like being woken up!", she half-apologises, before perking her ears up and questioning more potently: "Why were ya sneaking up on me, anyway? Did'ya want something? An autograph? A piece of the Dash?"
Gosh, she actually is as full of herself as people had said. It'd be impressive, if you weren't still reeling from how hard she can slam into somebody at such short a distance. No, you begin to explain, you just wanted a copy of the weather sched- did she say "a piece of the Dash"? Do people actually say things like that?
"Sure, all the time. Who wouldn't want me - you've seen me, right? Of course you have, that's probably why you didn't see my traps"
She has a point, it kinda is, though you'd debate their being called "traps".
"Whatever. Point is, this isn't the first time people have come up and asked me, you don't have to hide it - I have a mirror, I've seen me too."
With that last sentence, she throws her head forward and brushes her mane up with a hoof, throwing it into the air, where it slowly flows back down to its natural resting position, retaining its signature rainbow hue all the way down. It's mesmerising, and she knows it. You're not sure what's more annoying - her arrogance, or the fact that she's right. Not about THAT, no, you legitimately did just want a weather schedule, and to thank whoever was responsible for today's weather!
"You... really want a copy? Got a pen? 'Mostly clear' from here until the solstice, with the rains on a Thursday evening. It doesn't change, dude. It's been like this since I got the job. You sure that's why you're here? You really don't have to hide it, nobody else does. I'm up for it, you're new, new is interesting."
She has a point, you're not sure why you expected the schedule to change, but that really isn't why you're here, you hadn't even seen her up close until today, much less planned out some absurd plot to get into her... plot.
"Did'ya like what you saw?"
Now she's just getting corny. You've heard her friends talk about her vocabulary, apparently this is normal in Cloudsdale - like their language got stuck 20 years ago and things like 'Like what you see' have a place outside of bad pornography. Unfortunately, she is right, you did like what you saw, the ever tightening bulge down below is an inarguable testament to that. And she's a Pegasus, they all have fantastic vision. Normally it's used to help them fly, though, not make already embarrassed human beings even more flustered.
Dash's face contorts into a sly grin, knowing that by this point, she was going to have her way anyway, she didn't have to be pushy. Much as it annoys you, you have to admit that having a pony as, let's face it, straight up attractive as Rainbow Dash pin you down in the dirt for so long isn't the worst thing that's ever happened. And, well, your to-do list did include thanking her, and it wasn't specific how.
Admitting defeat, you raise a hand to her face and gently pull it down to kiss her, closing your eyes as your lips meet, and your tongues slip into each other's mouths. She breaks off after a moment, though, and whispers into your ear "Do I look like the sort of pony who takes things slow?"
You're slightly worried about what you've gotten yourself into, now, a feeling that doesn't get any better as she starts to try and pull off your shirt with her teeth. Not something she's very good at, but luckily she doesn't mind being shooed off so you can take it off yourself, throwing it up at the cloud so it doesn't get too dirty. While you were doing that, she was working a little lower, managing to pull down your zipper and start to struggle with the button. You help with that too, slipping it open with a hand while your other lands on her flank, giving a good squeeze to her hard, muscular surface.
No, if you're going to do this, you're doing it properly. Dash might be all about speed, but you're not, and she's a light pony, grabbing the other side of her flank and pulling her off is no trouble. Nor is flipping her over, and pinning her down yourself, turning the tables on her quite effectively.
"What the ha-"
No complaining, either - you silence her cry with a quick kiss, her eyes fluttering closed as you hold her down and her struggles die out. Several seconds later, you pull up, a strand of saliva running between your open mouths, as she gasps a little. Do you look like the sort of person who goes that fast? You finish your whisper with a light nibble to her ear, bringing out a coo of approval. Maybe Dash isn't *all* about the speed. Lifting yourself up, but still holding her down by her forelegs, lest she try and escape, you survey her body from a new angle, with a new mindset.
From above, she seems much curvier, from the tips of her hard, flat hooves, to the long, strong legs connecting them to her slim, toned body, all of it covered in a thin layer of bright blue hair. You see the way the base of her wings fan outwards leaving her wings snapped to the side of her body, the coating of feathers slightly dishevelled from the morning's work. You see how her cutie marks look upside own, and you see how the thin pink slit at the end of her body is only slightly visible through her fur, a few small droplets of liquid clinging to some of the hairs.
You don't want to keep her waiting too long - there is certainly such a thing as being too slow - but she's not desperate for it. Not yet. Lowering back down, you start to lightly kiss around her neck, bringing out more happy sounding noises. If you didn't know better, you'd say the speed thing was entirely for show, she seems to be enjoying taking it slow. Should subvert expectations, then, the next kiss has teeth, a little bite on the side of her neck - she definitely liked that, her whole body shivered a little and her happy sigh turned into a light moan. Still want it fast, Dash?
"Shut up and keep going", she breathlessly whispers.
She's not one for teasing, then, at least not vocally. You can work with that, you decide, running your mouth down her neck and onto her body, leaving light kisses and tempting licks in your wake. This is all about thanking her, not just for your own fun, you aught to do something nice. Her wings looked pretty untidy, you've heard Pegasi often like getting their wings preened. You'd better ask first, though.
"Huh? You wanna...? Er, yeah, go ahead, doing it myself gets pretty lonely at times", she says as she unfolds both wings, giving them an easy flap and throwing the both of you into the air so she can flip over for a better angle. Thankfully she's kind enough to set you down gently. Apparently you hadn't pinned her down as effectively as you'd hoped. Ah well. Reaching up and around her neck, you give it a good pull, not bringing her down, but prompting her to lie down next to you, her outstretched wing a foot or so away from your face. They look good up close, each feather blurring into the next to form the illusion of a solid surface - this makes every one of her misaligned feathers painfully obvious, even to an untrained eye like your own.
Looking over at her to make sure it's still alright, you see her smiling back, her cheeks flushed slightly. Hardly the image of experience she portrayed herself as, but she seems happy enough for you to continue. Leaning over to her, you start to kiss the base of her wings, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her skin shiver at your touch, sending a slight spasm through the whole wing, and a sharp intake of breath from further up her body. This is going to be fun.
Moving further up her wing, starting at the bottom, you start to run your tongue along its surface, leaving the feathers slightly damp as you go, and ruffling them just enough for her to feel it, without leaving any out of place. When you hit your first misaligned one, it's obvious - it just doesn't feel right. Gripping the edge in your teeth, you slowly, carefully pull it back to where it should be, knowing you're doing it right by the content moan coming from behind you.
Continuing along, fixing feathers where you can, your bored hands find their way back to the base of her wing, rubbing over and squeezing, exploring it in more detail, enthused by her happy moans, and how her head has been steadily drooping down for a few minutes now, finally coming to rest on the ground as she gives up all pretense of not giving in completely to the feelings rushing in from her wing. Redoubling your efforts, being more sure of what you're doing now, you bring your head back and start to work with just your hands - it's less intimate, but much faster, and she seems to enjoy it just as much, each fixed feather another sigh, like a great burden has been lifted from her.
Having finished one wing, you ask for the other, but receive only a half-concious mumble as an answer. You can move, that's good too. A good chance to stretch your legs, too, but you make sure not to take too long before lying at her other side and starting afresh, swinging each bad feather back to where nature intended. She's getting more and more excited by it now, to the point where each new fix sends shivers through both of her wings, as if having perfectly kept wings was the best feeling in the world, and you were bringing her closer and closer to it. As you get to the last few problematic areas, her breathing starts to get heavier and the shivers turn into full blown spasms. The last few feathers elicit light moans, and after the final one is done, she starts a long, low groan as both of her wings collapse into the ground, her voice cracking and becoming higher pitched partway through. You hadn't heard wrong - she certainly liked that.
Looking back at her head, it still resting on the ground, her tongue lolling out and a small pool of saliva gathering below, her eyes closed and her breaths still heavy, you lean back and put your head next to hers, waiting for her to come back to the land of the living. It doesn't take too long, her eyes slowly opening as her mouth swings back into a smile.
"That was awesome, dude, where can I get some of those hand things?", she whispers.
These hands? All yours. She can share a little, you tease, giving her a little tickle on the cutie mark and a sly grin. She bats your hand out of the way with her wings, giving them a strong beat, pushing her into the air for a moment, before she lands on top of you.
You open your mouth to say something else teasy and cliché, but she repeats your earlier move by diving straight into your open mouth, blocking your words with her tongue, and leaving you breathless, just like she was. The thin strand of saliva between your mouths breaks quickly as she pulls back, breathing just as heavily as you as she starts to kiss the side of your neck, her mane tickling your chest and brushing into your face. It's clearly not enough for her, though, as she darts lower down, grabbing your pants by the leg and easily pulling them down, the undone button providing no further issues. Finally free of its unfair prison, your boner bounces around a little, returning to its natural outwards direction.
Dash, obviously never actually having seen it, eyes it accusingly, before stretching out a wing to brush along it. Oh my gosh, you gasp, not expecting the chorus of sensation from the wing's soft, textured surface. That's not something the women back home could do. It's Dash's turn to render the other helplessly lost in pleasure, as she brings her other wing to bear, rolling the two over your length in alternate directions, your natural lubrication matting the feathers and ensuring they'll need another good wash. Watching you arch your back and push your head back into the ground, she starts to lightly flap, stimulating your penis from all directions, and bringing out your own moans, forcing you to bite your lower lip in a desperate attempt to not give in completely and come right there and then. She probably wouldn't appreciate the recolour to her lower body. Sensing your nearing climax, she removes her wings, letting them lie half-raised by her body as she shuffles into position above you, giving you a moment of freedom before she starts to slowly lower herself onto you, both of your moans piercing the warm air around you.
Resting there for a moment to catch her breath, Dash breathlessly asks "You ready?"
Frantically nodding, you force your legs to give her an encouraging thrust. You're ready for anything. Or so you thought, as her wings spring into action, lightly flapping up and down to provide Dash's own thrusting, letting her change her speed and force almost effortlessly and rendering your own efforts useless - though you keep on thrusting anyway, your body having long since stopped listening to rational thought. The three sounds of her wings flapping, the squelch of flesh on wet fur, and both of your excited moans all act in synchronisation to provide a beautiful chorus. Her face is scrunched up in pleasure and concentration, as she struggles to keep her wings under control, each flap, and thus thrust, bringing both of you closer to the edge, even as both of you beg your bodies to hold on and keep going, not wanting the constant assaults of pleasure to end.
Unfortunately, your body isn't as under your control as hers is, your thrusts growing erratic and your moans giving way to instinctual shouts as her powerful thrusts push you over the edge, your orgasm exploding and your seed shooting out into her, the feeling quickly driving her over with you, your duet of mindless pleasure causing the nearby birds to go look for somewhere else to be for a while. Unable to control her wings, Dash crashes down onto your chest, both of you lying there trying to catch your breath as you look at each other's smiling faces. For a crazy, unplanned, one-day stand, she's one hell of a pony.
Minutes go by until either of you are capable of stringing a sentence together, both mentally and physically, your arms finding their way around her body, and her legs stretching out across yours, as she shuffles forward to meet you in a weak, but heartfelt, kiss.
"That was amazing, dude, I feel like I just finished a run with the Wonderbolts"
You assume that's a compliment.
"You don't know about the Wonderbolts? Man, I've gotta show you my collection, I've got photos, newspaper cuttings, autographs, everything. They're awesome. Like you"
Now that is a compliment. You'd heard Dash was way into some flight group, never thought to look them up, but that does sound like a compliment.
"You're the first, you know? Ponies don't... I mean, I wouldn't just... ask in a field. Not for anyone. I'm not like that. I like you. What I've seen, I mean, I see a lot, flying around town. I'd watch you more if the flower girls didn't swoon any time I got close. Anyway, what I'm saying is, I know awesome when I see it, and you're it, and I don't want you to think I do this all the time. Nopony asks me, not really. I wouldn't, anyway. Gosh, I'm bad at this"
Nobody can be the best at everything, you reply. You barely know her, and you'd be lying if you said everything you've heard is good, but what the hell? Why not? Drinks, tonight, your place, you ask?
She'll be there, she swears, a lazy smile on her face, as she begins another kiss. It's a beautiful day, with a beautiful mare - and it's the best you've had in a long while.