*smooooooch!

The drawn out conclusion of a half-dozen kisses tickles your lips.

Their bestower complements your gift with a smile while squinting her cerise eyes from the cold; you both endure the buffeting, snow-laden wind a moment longer just to postpone the inevitable goodbye.

But even in this world of magic and make believe, good times had to be earned, "You stay out of the hamper this time miss."

Your warning prompts that ruggedly attractive crooked grin she always pulls when conflicted with guilt and humor, "Heh, no promises."

Her propensity for the used linens was becoming more of a habit lately despite her best efforts at hiding it. You ruffle her hair and she pushes back with a content smile and flickering ears, "See you tonight Dash." And with that you tread off down the snow covered street with your hands in your pockets to start your day.

Your thoughts pester you with memories of the warm afternoons you were enjoying only a month ago as you trudge through the sideways-blowing snow and biting cold on the way to the train station.

Does it really need to be this windy? Normally the weather doesn’t bother you much, but the idea that a group of ponies designed it in such a way as to make your walk miserable was infuriating. It wasn’t even scheduled to snow for another few days…what’s up with this?

You glance back to your apartment and see the door half-shut, your unseen mare undoubtedly watching your departure. You wave even though you won't see a response. It wasn't her fault though, she'd taken the past week off of managing the weather team which is why probably why it's a mess. Her boasting might come off as pretentious to some, but she definitely walks the walk.

A half-mile later you’ve made it to your train and take up your usual seat along a handful of familiar faces. Some were reading the morning paper, others were reading a damp, wrinkled version of the same paper, and still others were lost in a trance—watching the snow batter the windows a few inches in front of their long faces. You feel a kick in your seat as the mighty locomotive at the head of the train shudders, letting out powerful barks and a screech of its whistle as it slowly lurches forwards. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be working a seven-day week for your unicorn employer, but it’s for a good cause.

You’re mildly pleased that your job turned out to entail more than you first expected; in hindsight the whole idea of building a toaster and getting rich off the millions of families who would buy one was pretty unrealistic. Partly because patent protection was weak at best and also because you'd severely overestimated the amount of homes that had rudimentary electricity.

Making money wasn't your only motivation; you have nothing against altruism. As far as you were concerned it'd be the least you could do for a nation that’s made your existence a dream; however, you role in things had changed. You have more than yourself to think of.

You clutch the necklace that holds Dash’s pinfeather to your chest, and amidst a sea of morning moods, a smile crosses your face. She’d definitely crawled back in bed after seeing you off. Your grin cracks when you think back to her groggily packing your lunch before sending you on your way with several longer than usual kisses. The Wonderbolts had cancelled practice for the day so Dash didn’t have a thing to do besides catch up on sleep. You had no doubt she’d do just that.

The feather tip graces your sternum under your winter coat, it's tickling, a constant reminder of the mare that stole your heart. Some ponies beside you turn to study the gall of the grinning idiot who dared to be happy so early in the dreary morning.

Frosted trees keep you entertained by sparkling in the golden morning light but the scenery would soon begin to bore.

*cough cough!

And it’s only a matter of time before one of your fellow commuters gets you sick. You hold your breath and count to thirty. You figured that was enough time for whatever’s in the air to settle. Part of you said it was useless paranoia, but another part of you reasoned that your weird habits were what got you through the first bout of the flu unscathed.

Apart from the weather and the occasional disregard for personal etiquette, there was little the world imposed upon you that was worthy of complaint. Nevertheless, as you leave city limits a growing dread creeps into your mind and plants a heaviness in your heart—a heaviness that would only be lifted when you get back home.

Of course, you never tell her about the effects of your stifling attachment, lest she starts to think you’re becoming too dependent on her. What good is a guy to anyone if he’s not strong and independent? Dash of all mares would value that. But as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t escape the sinking feeling of being apart. The growing acceptance that you’ve got another full work day standing between you and your reunion only makes you sink deeper.

You’re swimming in the nectar of a freshly budded romance with the only mare you could possibly imagine yourself with…and here you are riding a train away from it all. To anyone but you the thought would seem clingy, pitiful even. But just like every past commute, it was the only thing on your mind.

Canterlot was equally gusty, but the snow had already fallen. Once you get to the center of the small city the buildings break the wind and give you a respite, allowing you to make it to work without further misery.

“Mornin’ Anon. Happy Sunday.” The door guard greets.

“Good morning Hammerhooves, how’s your brother doing?”

“Good, thankfully. Doc says he’ll make a full recovery.” He responds with tempered enthusiasm.

“Glad to hear it, keep me updated alright?”

The gruff stallion nods gratefully and you find an open hook to hang your coat. A sign to the side reads, ‘It’s been 148 days since our last null-field incident. Safety is everypony’s job.” You take a breath and head down the magic-rich hallway while nervously playing with the magic crystal in your pocket.

You breach the door and enter the main room noting the quieter than usual atmosphere.

Your small desk lay in the back corner of the physics department—sharing a cubicle with a very burly and introverted Minotaur. As you walk around the corner you nod a greeting to him. Despite the creature’s size making it a bit cramped, Dr. Steelhammer was as close as you could get to an ideal work mate. Namely, he was quiet.

Two hooves suddenly hook over the top of your cubicle followed shortly by a chipper stallion with styled hair, “Ayy! What’s crackin’ my favorite homo-sapien!”

You knew you’d regret telling him about that term. “Hey Flux, what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, I just come here for the free lunch. Why’re you here?”

“…Reasons.”

If the floor manager was going for diversity, he sure hit the nail on the head by making Flux Field your neighbor. Three species and three very distinct personalities combined to make your daily work experience somewhat of an adventure. Flux’s cubicle mate didn’t count because whoever it was never lasted more than a week with him, and their characteristics were usually drowned-out by Flux’s antics anyways.

“Oh-hohohoo! Don’t act so bummed to talk to me now, or I just might have to un-invite you to my birthday party!”

You look up at the pegasus’ cocky grin and feign insult, “You take that back!”

He scratches his chin as he ponders, “Hmm…ok but only if you promise to share your sandwich.”

He’d been trying to get a bite of one of the sandwiches Dash made for you ever since he found out she made them. He was somewhat of a Wonderbolts fan, but as much as you liked him, you do your best to keep him as far removed from her as possible. Call it jealousy or what have you, but Dash made those sandwiches for you and you alone, “Oh. No can do brother. Those sandwiches are far more valuable than our friendship.”

He puts a hoof across his forehead and pretends to pass out. A moment later he reappears in your cubicle doorway, “But seriously though I want to try it.”

“No Flux.”

“Oh come on just one bite!”

“No.”

He slowly advances as you continue unpacking your stuff, “Fine then just the crust.”

“I like the crust.”

“But on the 15th of this month at precisely sixteen past twelve I saw you throw the crusts away.”

“I…like to look at it, besides, I was about to throw up because of that ammonia spill remember?”

He sighs in defeat and you turn your back on him briefly to unlock your desk. A rustling tips you off and you spin around to smack his hoof already half-way in your lunch sack, “Don’t make me report you for workplace harassment.”

He pouts and shakes his hoof, “That’s not funny.”

Flux was somewhat of a troublemaker and already had thirteen reports under his belt when you met him a few weeks ago. Most were for stupid stuff like ‘pull my hoof’ jokes or the time he kept switching out the adjacent cubicle occupant’s framed photos with cutouts from his obscenely large Playcolt collection. It was the one trump card you had that never expired, “Oh really? I thought you framed every notice.” You retort.

His ears perk up again, “Hey, not a bad idea!” And with that he drops the conversation and heads back to his desk. He’s the only pony you know that could give Pinkie a run for her money. He was also really smart. Like, got his masters in electrodynamics at the age of nineteen smart. While school courses weren’t exactly as arduous as they were back on earth, it was still an impressive feat.

You take a deep breath and drag over a fresh stack of papers over from your inbox. Your eyes drift up to the top of your desk where the framed and signed picture of your partner sits. You're doing this for her.

You sigh and shove in your earplugs to start work.

The next thing that interrupts you is the creeping feeling of being stared at. You catch Flux’s brown eyes bugging out of his equally brown face in your periphery. You swivel to look at him as he mutters something incomprehensible. You take out an earplug, “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I asked if you’re ready to go to lunch yet. Nerd.”

“What? Why am I a nerd, I’m not the one named after a physics term?”

“Sure, but I don’t work during my lunch break.”

You lean back and squint to check the clock on the far wall. Sure enough, you worked into break again, “Oh, thanks. I didn’t even notice.” You grab your lunch sack and tap Steelhammer’s shoulder. He turns around and takes out his earplugs as well.

“You guys are weird, I’ve never used those things and I still get work done.”

“That's because you're used to hearing yourself talk” You grab your lunch and head to the break room behind your friend.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

You take up residence at the nearest open seat and break out your food. A few heads at your table turn but you’ve learned to ignore them.

The fact that you were betrothed to a mare who was arguably the most attractive member of the Wonderbolts had made you somewhat of a celebrity within the workshop. Of course, you never told anyone unless they asked about it, and even then, you shied away from as much attention as possible.

What’s she like? Is her mane naturally that color? Does she really eat fish because if so that’s kinda hot? You entertained plenty of questions in your first few days, eager to offer eloquent responses like "awesome,” “yep,” and “it’s none of your damn business.”

It was only a matter of time before word spread and ponies began to see you differently, and not in an inherently good way. To them, you were far from a desk-jockey, and it made it a little bit more difficult to get your ideas to stick. Not to mention you were completely lacking in any magical knowledge. You were learning, but it would take years to catch up to the level of your peers.

But it'd be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the attention to some extent, not for any personal benefit, but because you were simply proud of your mare. It was a position that you’d never in your life expected to be in, but here you are, biting into a Dash-made sandwich while four interested stallions watch.

To say it's awkward is an understatement, “Sorry guys, not today.”

They look crestfallen. In their defense though, they were missing out. Dash liked to overload her 'PB&Z,' as she liked to call it, with a double serving of peanut butter. She made yours with the opposite ratio, doubling up on Zap-Apple jam instead. And dear Celestia is it good.

Before you head back to work you remind yourself to stop by the boss’s office to check up on your leave request.

A while ago Dash had asked if you could put in for a week of vacation. You weren’t sure how you could justify one less than a month after starting your job, but you weren’t about to dismiss the possibility, especially considering she’d already gotten the time off.

Luckily, the older mares in the employee resources office were more than eager to entertain your last-minute request, and surprisingly enough, they seemed to appreciate your honesty with them. Apparently they get quite a few cases like yours at this time of the year. Probably because of the sickness going around.

They even had a special category for mare friends requesting their partners to take leave, they called it ‘spousal convalescent leave,’ and it conveniently lasted for the full seven days Rainbow had asked. You felt guilty and told them that Dash wasn’t really sick, but apparently it wasn’t a big deal. They said it was fine and sent you on your way.

The only condition was that, per policy, you needed to be employed for a bit before you could use that sort of pass. You didn’t quite meet the requirements and they could only waive a few days, but there was a loophole that allowed weekends to carry over into what would be considered the work week, hence why you were at work on a Sunday.

It was the only way to ensure that you’d get the week off Dash asked for. Of course, you didn’t tell her you were doing it because of her; there's no sense in making her feel guilty. As far as she knew, you were just extra busy.

You grab your form and knock on Dr. Waveguide’s door.

“Come in!”

As soon as you crest the entrance he pipes up, “Anon! Oh…yes of course, the paperwork. Come in come in.”

You look at him skeptically. He knew about Dash, but was he expecting you? You walk over to his desk upon his beckoning.

He takes the form from you as he dons his spectacles and fishes for a pen, “Alright…let's see here…” He talks aloud as his eyes scan the form for completion, “Yep…and there…good…” He flips it and scours the form for discrepancies, tapping his pen on each category he passes, “Well, well, well, would you look at that.”

You lean over, interested, “This is for your marefriend, Rainbow Dash is it?” He asks, tapping the box labeled ‘spousal convalescent leave.’

Crap he figured it out! You sigh, "Yes sir. My mate."

He cocks his eyebrows, "Mates?" He asks almost disbelieving.

You nod.

It takes him a moment to respond, "Well shit, congratulations!"

That's the first time he's ever cussed. "Thank you."

"If I weren't your employer I'd buy you a beer!"

"I am pretty excited."

“You better be!” To your astonishment, he signs the bottom of the page—granting you the next week off starting tomorrow. He holds it out but snatches it away when you reach for it, "First time with this?" He looks over the top of his glasses.

"Uhh...yeah."

“Remember, keep her hydrated and on a steady diet and you should be alright...though with a mare of her breed it's probably not going to be that easy.”

"Thanks for the advice." You smile and match his nod as you take the paper from him. In a practiced motion, you manage to transition back to your mildly pleased expression without giving away the fact that you have no idea what he's talking about.

As you get to the door, your boss pipes up one last time, “…And remember to enjoy yourself! Ha ha ha ha!”

The door clicks shut and you take a deep breath. What was he going on about?

Once back at your desk you pin the signed leave form to your bulletin board. Seeing it there removed all the remaining motivation you had to be at work, but you push on anyways, pausing only to contemplate the meaning of the sage stallion’s words. At least Dash doesn’t have any problems staying hydrated…and she’s not sick anyways. You’re suddenly hit with guilt from tricking your boss. Well, the ER department said it was ok, still doesn’t make it right though. After a brief battle, the priorities of your mare win out and you put it out of your mind to finish off the day’s work.

Your heart races as you turn the doorknob to your apartment. At the first hint of it giving way you swing it wide open—casting lantern light into the dimly lit room. The darkness surprises you and you shut the door in a hushed fashion. If Dash has the lights off then she might be sleeping. As your vision adjusts to the darkness you can barely make out the fact that your bed wasn’t made. That’s no surprise. If you weren’t there to do it yourself it wouldn’t get done. Dash frequently commented on how she thought it was a waste of time.

There’s no sign of her in the room and you briefly wonder if she’s even here, but the fresh spice that hung in the air was evidence that your mate not only was here, but had also skipped her morning shower. It was interesting how much motivation was lost when she didn’t have you around to keep her in check.

You make it a few paces into the room before your foot hangs up on something. The very next moment you hit the floor with a thud and roll on your back with a groan. You look down to see what you’d tripped over, and instead, find a hazardous article of clothing around your shoe.

It takes a moment to realize they're a pair of your boxer briefs...with a fresh tear in them.

You're going to have to buy some more soon.

Down the hall you can hear your toilet flush and you notice the bathroom light is on. No longer concerned about waking her you stumble around and flip on your desk lamp.

“Whoa…”

The scene that lay before you was nothing short of a battlefield. The thick comforter that had been necessary these past few weeks was completely off the end of the mattress—thrown loose with enough frustration to untuck it towards the end. The sheets were a wadded mess and your pillow was buried somewhere in their midst. That alone wouldn’t have been too far out of the ordinary were it not for the mess of dirty clothes strewn about the collage. So much for staying out of the hamper.

You weren't sure what brought on her new hobby; it'd only really begun last week but it was quickly maturing. She got embarrassed every time you addressed it, but you witnessed this specific trait of hers before and you weren't concerned. If anything it was cute.

The sink comes on full blast in the background and you shrug. Maybe she was practicing folding them...and then gave up...and then rolled around in them... A smirk crosses your face when you start to imagine how you’re going to give her a hard time about the mess. You strip your work clothes and sit down to take off your shoes. That’s when you notice something else.

Your dresser drawers were all crooked, much like you’d imagine they would be if someone had gone through them before hastily closing them. Just what has gotten into her? The way you see things, what’s yours is hers, so you’re not even close to being upset; but it’s still strange. You toss your used socks at the open hamper—intending to bank the wadded ball off the wall for a three-pointer.

Of course, it misses. You sigh, just more for you to pick up.

You spend the next minute doing exactly that, and in no time at all your messy room was back to just a tornado of disarray rather than an earthquake. Or an earthquake rather than a tornado…whichever one makes less of a mess. The sink shuts off and your heart skips a beat. You wait for the inevitable sound of the door to open and hoof steps to move down your hallway, but they never come.

Instead, you hear something fall in the bathroom and hooves quite loudly scurry to fix it, “You good in there Dash?” You yell over your shoulder.

The scurrying stops and you get no response, ”Hey Dash are you alright?”

You hear her hooves clack around on the tile floor, but she still doesn’t answer. The uncharacteristic lack of response tips you off that something’s not right. In an instant your spine goes cold and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You find yourself spurred into motion even before you can fully comprehend it.

Your heels strike the ground with deliberate force as you hurriedly move to rejoin your mate. You didn’t even contemplate knocking first; your concern for your partner drowned out all other thoughts.

You storm into the small bathroom and immediately spot Dash. Both of you freeze—locked in a trance as you appraise one another. The first thing you notice is that the tightness in your chest relaxes, despite the situation there was nothing seriously wrong. Dash is ok. The second thing you notice is that she appears to be in the process of drying the floor with a towel; why it was wet you have no idea. The final fact the unusual scene revels is that she’s just as messy as the room she’d obviously spend most of her day in. Her mane was frazzled and protruding in all sorts of directions. Cyan feathers on her folded wings broke symmetry with their neighbors, a common side effect of excess friction.

The small room carries carries the essence of her musk—something your trained nose was able to discern over the pungent artificial citrus of the air freshener...and she's holding one of your shirts. Tidbits of information framed the crime scene, but her eyes told you the whole story. Dilated seas of magenta, that at first conveyed surprise, now conveyed a new message. She’s happy to see you.

“Heya Anon!”

In the span it takes you to soak up everything, she rockets into your chest and envelopes you in a hug.

You immediately hug back, “Hey Dash...you doing alright?”

The apparent concern in your voice doesn’t even phase her, meaning that whatever was bothering her, wasn’t severe enough for her to end the embrace early. She squeezes you tighter before she lets you go; the next look she gives you tells you that you haven’t met your daily kiss quota to pay for the answer you sought. The panicked and confused state you’ve been in finally yields your heart back to your more excited spirit. You take a knee and she hops up to meet you standing. The lack of coordination results in a position where her forehooves are on your shoulders and her lips smile down at yours from the high ground. Rather than comment on it she just kisses you.

Her pointed muzzle in all of its fuzzy splendor mashes into your waiting lips and you share the kiss you’ve both kept pent up inside all day. Rather than starting with a warm up round like you usually do, she jumps right in to tackle the root of the problem, that being: your mouths just never seemed to taste right without the flavor of your partner pervading them. It was something you’d actually started noticing more and more lately, and strangely enough, Dash seemed to develop the same complex accordingly. On your mutual off days there was nothing to keep you from sharing a peck between bites of your lunch, or a deeper kiss whenever you caught each other’s eye for more than a few seconds, but the work week infringed upon your naturally close bond.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were somewhat of a high-maintenance couple. Not in the sense that you constantly owed each other favors and flowers, but in the sense that if you weren’t free to show your affection, your happiness was subject to a sort of glass ceiling. But that’s a thought for another time; right now you’ve got an unusually eager pegasus to deal with and the sky is the limit.

Your back thuds against the wall as Dash kisses into you with more force. Her forehooves wrap around your neck as much as they can and your equivalent appendages find a hold around her withers. Her breathing grows more ragged as soon as you touch her and her fuzzy lips double their dexterous duty to massage yours. You can tell that her mane wasn’t the only thing frazzled about her; tufts of her back fur were bent out of place and others were matted together in thick clumps. She suddenly breaks away with a smack and short string of saliva.

Her glassy eyes tell you not to speak, “How do you fe—mmmpf!”

Before you can ask the question she’s back on you again. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this...because you definitely do, but you still had lingering concerns about what caused her uncharacteristic implosion in your apartment. You try to contemplate it, but you quickly run into the same mental block that’d been there since you first tested it. You can’t think and kiss at the same time.

So you don’t.

You redouble your own efforts and push back into her with almost as much force as she’s using to pin you to the wall. She seems to like that. You can feel a smile grow on your wet lips and she lets out a particularly deep exhale. Her tongue moves at the same time yours does and they both exchange a complimentary flick in greeting before continuing on into their partner’s maws. Almost immediately you notice something different…a new taste? It was incredibly thin and nearly imperceptible, but it was most definitely present. It tastes like the icing on those sugar cookies grandma used to get you for your birthday. She must’ve broken down and cheated on her diet… The thought makes you smile; being privy to so many little aspects of her life that no one else would even know about was extremely entertaining.

Hands sprawl through the short fur of her upper back and forelegs constrict around your neck—reducing your breathing down to only what your excited partner breathes out.

The mare groans and takes another short breath before loudly swallowing. The obnoxious sound momentarily echoes through the room before being pursued by a long bout of tongue smacking. Her slick muscle explores your mouth with a vigor; after getting its fill of its counterpart, it moves to your teeth.

Dash had developed somewhat of a fixation with your teeth, in particular, the pointy spires you like to call canines. She demonstrates that fixation for the better part of the next minute as she licks incessantly at them. You can hear the taste buds of her long, slender tongue scraping against your enamel point, and you have to restrain yourself from stopping her. Despite your valid concerns, she’s repeatedly assured you that it doesn't hurt. What exactly it did for her you may never know, but if her bashful stammering was any indication, it was one of those things that you still didn't understand.

Your mare continues for an amazing minute of oral caressing before finally showing signs of slowing, and even then she keeps going. Her tongue now gracefully slides with yours—taking turns prodding into each other’s territory. When her lips finally retreat with a pop, she leaves you with a teaspoon of her saliva and a wetted appetite for something more.

Eyes finally open to gaze into each other. You can tell immediately what she wants from the look alone. And if that wasn’t enough, her rigid wings awkwardly spanning the small bathroom definitely did.

“You were about to ask me something?” Dash prods with a smirk. Her grip on your shoulders still gave her the high ground.

Were you? “Uh…*ahem...yea—” Your voice cracks sending Rainbow into a bout of the giggles. Dang, usually she's the one that cracks like that. You compose yourself, “Yeah...I was.” You congratulate yourself on getting the words out amidst an assault of hot breath and endorphins.

Her smirk widens, “And that would be…?” she purrs melodically.

Crap, you didn’t think you’d make it this far. You're vaguely aware of a thread of a thought, something in the back of your mind that demanded rectification before reward. If it hadn’t been there you’d already be tending to her wings, “O-oh yeah!” You exclaim, “You just…um, you didn't answer when I called out. Are you feeling okay?”

She giggles, moving her muzzle under your jaw and nudging it in a way she knows you like. She pulls back again with a hint of embarrassment flushing her face, “I-I’m uh…I’m better now that you’re here.”

This mare...Surely she knows by now that the warmth of her contact and the scratchiness in her voice were your biggest weakness, and perhaps she was banking on it being enough to dissuade you from any further questioning, but you still weren’t satisfied, “Come on Dash, you know you can tell me if something’s up.”

Her cheeks tint a shade darker and her furry ears flatten to her head. Her normally foolproof plan didn’t work and she’s not sure how to handle it; her eyes dart around the small room, “N-n-nothing’s wrong! Don’t worry about me, I’m just uh…b-bored.” Heh, she didn’t think you’d make it this far either. Your fingers comb through her mane and she awkwardly tolerates it.

“Bored huh?” You pose the rhetorical question. Despite what she told you, something’s definitely up with her. You put it aside for the moment and instead focus on the unmistakable smell of musk…perhaps she didn’t want to make a mess? If so, you’re not sure why she would’ve stopped there considering the other sorts of disarray she'd left the apartment in. Your eyes drift to her shrinking wings; the longer the silence lasts the more awkward and embarrassed she feels. You must’ve been intimate dozens of times now…and she still gets flustered. You would always find her unexpected reservedness incredibly cute, but sometimes you wished she would be more active in voicing her desires. At least then you would know for sure if you were meeting them.

Either way you feel like you have a pretty good idea.

“I think you need a bath.” You jab a finger into her sternum.

Her magenta eyes follow the finger, then pull up to meet yours, “A b-bath?” Her tail twitches as she looks at you wide-eyed.

You lean back against the wall; your hands knead her shoulders, “A bath. It’s a thing you where you wash yourself in order to appear more presentable in society.”

A smile grows on her face and she pushes your shoulder, “I know what a bath is dummy!”

“Oh really?” You fight off her forceful nuzzles with some of your own and simultaneously catch some of her oily mane in your hand to examine. To be honest, you preferred the natural smell of you partner over scented soaps and shampoo. You considered it your guilty pleasure in a way, though neither of you felt much guilt in expressing it. The best way you could describe it was spicy…like the edge of a cologne isle in a department store but with the distinctly earthy smell of air-wicked fur and a touch of sweat. By anyone’s standards it wasn’t bad, pungent perhaps, but not bad. However, you’d spent more time with her than most. After countless hours of leisurely lounging, and passionate nights you’d come to associate her specific scent with all things positive.

Her eyes watch your hand sift through her hair—knowing full well your earlier statement was a front to gauge her receptiveness. But despite her apparently aroused state, something was still holding her back. A quick peck on the nose snaps her out of her train of thought and brings her back to the present. She finds your eyes, the light of excitement dancing in her own. That simple look answers your unspoken question and you offer her a smile before patting her withers.

The signal to let you up works as intended and you move to warm up the shower. The antique pipes shudder and groan in the wall as they fill with pressure, and after a brief delay, water sprouts from the cheap shower head. The sound of the door closing behind you spins you around and you catch your partner standing next to it with a shy look on her face. The intimate implications force a blush to her cheeks and she instead occupies herself with readying some towels under the sink.

You start to disrobe and Dash steals some obvious peeks at you. She keeps digging around under the sink longer than she needs to in order to stay occupied. You stop keeping tabs on her, and in a few practiced movements you’re completely in the nude with the exception of your feather necklace. Despite a few weeks worth of reassurances from your partner, being naked around her was still a big step for you. But, you were trying to improve, and so you didn’t think twice about bending over to turn on the water.

*crash!

The cabinet door slams shut unintentionally, startling both you and Dash. Her unanticipated wing flare had launched the door shut from her seated position, but she doesn’t immediately make that connection and instead skitters away in momentary panic—twisting around and sweeping towels off the rack with her exploding wingspan.

Her hooves scurry to get under her center of gravity, but they don’t get much traction on the hard tile. She slips, staying momentarily suspended in midair just long enough for you to register a mixture of confusion and panic on her face. Then, she comes crashing down against the wall with a thud—the violently thrown towel sailing down next to her.

She stays grounded on her back, her wings spread out and her hooves and head tucked to her body; one squinted eye peeks over at you somewhat sheepishly.

“You good Captain Athleticism?” You ask while fighting off your smirk.

She stares blankly at you, knowing she won’t be able to get up without another unsightly struggle, “Yeah, I’m good, I just uh…saw your penis.” Well, that could be taken as a compliment. The bluntness of her confession was no coincidence, you were the last person on the planet that would shame her for anything, least of all a symptom of her attraction to you. That knowledge gave her the confidence to say what she did, and for what it’s worth it’s kind of flattering. You walk over to her and just stare into her unflinching eyes for a moment until she suddenly bursts out laughing, “Ahahahahahaha!”

Silly pony. You kneel down to start helping her up, struggling to get a good grip on her petite frame as it rocks with laughter, “On a completely unrelated note I think it’s great that you serve as a role model to countless fillies and colts.”

“Hahahahaha-*gasp-ahahaha!”

You finally get a solid hold and hoist her up—carefully slinging her over your shoulder like the prize she is, “I think you’ll instill good virtues in them you know? Loyalty, courage, appreciation for the appeal of the human form…”

“Hahaha-stahahpit! Ahahaha-hehehee!” She batters you bare shoulder with her hooves and you throw in some jabs at her sides to make her squirm. But it only makes it more awkward navigating to the shower. The hardest part was finding an angle that would accommodate her six-foot wingspan. No wonder you never did it in the shower before.

By the time you’ve finally figured out a game plan, the mare in your arms had calmed down and was starting to show more of the signs you’d picked up on earlier. Her forehooves cling to your neck and as you reposition your supporting hand on her posterior, she groans and her tail flicks up from the bottom of your vision. Her strong musk gets wafted into the resulting air current that meets your nose, apparent even over the already potent musk that was permeating the room.

You slide the curtain aside and step into the cascade of hot water. A thousand droplets massage your skin and begin to darken Dash’s fur. They bounce off her wings with the sound of rain on a tarp—sliding effortlessly off the feathers that were kept slick by her natural body oils. You pull the curtain closed behind you and plunge yourselves into a darker shade of the room’s already dim magical lighting. You lower Dash down to your chest and lay her against the wall for balance, careful to cushion the back of her head with a hand. Her hind legs lock around your hips and she fidgets her pelvis closer to you.

The simple suggestive action flips a switch in your head and you throb to life. You hear her breathing skip as the full length of your member rises against her conveniently located nether lips.

Almost instantly you feel her muscles contract to wet you with her product, a syrup distinctly hotter than the surrounding water. But the intimate touch wasn’t what occupied your mind. Instead, you were fixated on her gorgeous eyes and what they were telling you. Her fiery irises dilate to see you better as her breathing deepens. She winces in pleasure and her hooves clamp tight around you as she tucks her protruded wing into the corner with a mixture of strength and sheer will. For a moment, you remain there, nose-to-nose; two bare bodies held close by mutual effort and the shared desire for intimacy. The only thought that fills your mind is how receptive her body feels and how sweet her breath tastes as you breathe her in. How have you not noticed that before?

Water claims more and more of her fur; it gets trapped by her mane and released in long streams down her body. Moisture seems to unlock the true potency of the mare’s alluring scent and you realize that the unique musk you associated with a very special spot between her hind legs was coming from elsewhere. Her forehooves.

Your supporting hand stretches a bit to stroke her heated bits, “A-Anon, just take it easy I’m kinda s-s-sensitive—“

“—Shhh…” You interrupt her nervous stammering. If her eager body hadn’t made her cravings apparent, the tone in her voice sure did. You lean in cheek-to-cheek to whisper into her ear, “…You don’t need to say it…” Your hands hold the back of her head and a tense cheek of her flank as you plant a kiss on her warm jaw, “…I figured it out…the clothes on the bed…the feathers on your wings…the mess you were cleaning up when I called out to you…” Dash gulps. Her expressive ear had tried to perk up at first, but promptly retreated back to its nape when you started citing evidence that proved its owner guilty of self-pleasure. You free a hand and fish a forehoof from your neck which you hold tentatively between you.

You pull back to look her in the eye. Water had flattened her colors to her face and muzzle, but her magenta orbs still peered at you behind a violent blush, “…I’m not as dumb as I look you know.”

The edge of her hoof gets a brief kiss before you nuzzle her jaw. Then, you pin it to her chest and lick her soft frog.

“Mmmmh!”

She squeaks and drips some more of her fluid onto your ever-hardening shaft.

She's definitely been masturbating, you ponder, as you savor the special tang native to her crotch. You dive back in to clean up her frog before the pounding water can. The poor mare struggles to end the tease as your tongue traces every line of her sensitive under hoof; her free hoof grabs around your butt and pulls desperately in a vain attempt to get you closer to her, but you don’t yield…at least not right away.

The pegasus mare’s genitals twitch against yours, so close yet so far away from fulfilling their respective purposes. Finally, her forehoof is clean and you bury your face in her neck, pressing your torsos closer to prevent the falling water from rudely separating you. You kiss into her short fur while hopping her up in your arms to reposition. Pulling away from her neck, you meet her love-filled eyes and are immediately struck by the intensity of her desire. Despite her apparent success earlier she needs you.

The tip of your throbbing, wet glans prods gently around her sex. The squeaks she's letting out reminds you of her lingering sensitivity and you adjust your pace accordingly. However, you weren’t the only one who had some say in the matter. Once you strike gold, Dash relaxes her hind legs’ grip on your hips and swiftly buries you.

“Haagh!”

Geography of her plot gives way and your desperate shaft effortlessly fills an equally desperate canal. You barely have time to adjust for her lack of support and the sudden influx of pleasure before she begins grinding into you.

“Ngh!”

Hands move to her wings and find purchase on the thickest, feathery, leading edge that encompassed her highly developed humerus bones. Her hind legs tighten around you again as you begin pressing into her with equal effort. She hands over the reins to you as your thrusting picks up a relaxed but deliberate pace. Your lips hover near the back of her jaw while you vie for a stable position. Unbeknownst to you, the shuffling knocks the soap bar off of its holder.

Dash doesn’t hear it hit the tub, she's too busy trying to feel more of your warm shaft in her sweltering tunnel. You bring a leg up to get an extra half-inch deeper in your precious mare, only to realize there’s no comfortable way to brace it, “Gah! Rainbow I—“

—*smack!

Your head bounces off the tile wall next to hers, but you keep your mare braced safely in your grasp. You just slipped and smacked your face on a wall, Dash is never going to let you live that down…but at least you know the soap bar is sliding around somewhere.

“Anon!”

Two fuzzy hooves pull your head into her cheek and she starts gently caressing the sore spot. Your lovemaking quickly shifts gears as the protective pegasus begins tending to your sudden injury like your life depended on it. She positions her muzzle to trace her smooth tongue along the affected area; the psychological numbing affect is instantaneous, and in your mind’s eye you imagine her felt ribbon as a sympathetic eraser, undoing all of your blunders and rewriting history in your favor. If Dash ever got a job at the hospital she’d put the doctors out of work.

You were pretty sure her remedy had some legitimate medicinal affects, but seeing the expressions of her obvious care for you did more than any magical healing ever could. Hot water washes your merged bodies—pouring off her rump and down your legs in heavy streams while her muzzle works to fix you the only way she knows how. In no time at all, you’re back to a hundred percent and you thank her by nuzzling her wet jaw.

Your eyes meet, one pair are filled with concern, the other, gratefulness. How did you ever manage to find a mare like her…”I was going to tell you, I love you.”

The concern leaves her eyes and she dips her muzzle to hide her reaction as best she could, “Y-You sure you’re ok?” She gently presses her pinfeather token to your wet chest.

Gosh you love her so much, “Thanks to you.” You whisper. She timidly flickers up and down to meet your gaze, but a peck on her nose draws her attention, “It’s my turn to take care of you now.”

Her eyes briefly widen as she remembers the contact in her nethers. Your words were as meaningful as they were provocative. For whatever reason, she’d needed you today and you weren’t here for her; that thought brought a heaviness to your heart that could only be lifted by acting on your pent up feelings.

*squelch

The noise that twitches her ears over the sound of rushing water doesn’t make her blush…or at least, it doesn’t make her existing blush worse. With the exception of a few wayward water droplets, you don’t even blink as you start to pick up your pace.

The shower head sputters as it dislodges a bubble in its feed line and steam visibly rises from the tiny streams gradually raising the humidity level. You can barely make out the sweet taste of her breath on the thick air; you can’t really smell it, but it tastes so sweet. Your mind tells you to seek it out at its source.

Lips mash into each other and you waste no time sending your tongue on the errand. She entertains your eagerness, guiding you around to the most frequented exhibits. Surprisingly, her taste hadn’t abated as you’d expected. If anything it’d gotten stronger.

Your breathing grows more rapid, not from your approaching climax, but from sheer desperation your partner exuded. She needs more of you and you desperately want to give it to her.

Hips slow and your tempered sword buries itself in her love-slick natural sheath. Once you’re as deep as you can go you start a practiced nudging motion. The action subjected her clitoris to a constantly shifting environment; when it tried to escape its own hood from over stimulation, it found itself pressed into your ticklish pubes. The result was a rapid flicking from one position to another as it sought respite…and an appropriately squirmy pegasus.

“Nnnnnh!” She squeals into your mouth and her soaked wings writhe against the shower wall as if trying to paint an erotically inspired snow angel with the condensation. You massage her leading edges and keep up your crotch rubbing, but your main focus was still on uncovering the source of the incredibly alluring, and until today, foreign taste that seemed to emanate from Dash’s kiss.

Just as the flavor started growing stronger, your access gets cut off. Her tongue becomes uncontrollably guarded, along with the rest of her body—tense from the sum of pleasure you were giving her.

“Mgh!…Mhh!…Ngh!…”

Dash squeals into your kiss as you edge her closer through a proven combination of depth and friction. Her hot hole gives you a few warning hugs as she starts to go into her prefatory clenches. You stroke the lengths of her strained wings and pull your tongue back to tickle the insides of her lips all while keeping count on her random squeezes. Interestingly enough, she seemed to consistently follow a pattern; her timing varied, but she always clenched precisely six times before the finale.

Her grunts fall silent as she nears…two…three…four—

“—Mmh!”

Your mare tips the edge and orgasms quietly on your throbbing penis. So much for figuring her out.

Her feeble grunt never escapes your deep kiss. Her wing joints knock against the tile walls, jerking in pleasure and trying in vain to extend. You’d been so lost in her mouth that you hadn’t realized how good of a job she’d done in milking you. A distinctly thicker stream of hot fluid running down your thigh shifts your attention back to your juncture and you’re instantly overcome by the success of her efforts.

You moan into your partner's mouth just before your hips shudder and push harder. You throb and fire off into her tract with just enough force to race your fluid up her wrinkled walls against gravity. You get a return moan from her and feel her abs shudder from the uniquely ticklish sensation. The next few moments are lost to time as the shower head drones on indifferent to its mating occupants.

When your eyes open, hers are already waiting for you with a smile. You break your kiss for the first time since you’d begun copulating and soak up the full sight of her grinning face. Her unusually wide grin on her usually rosy cheeks didn’t warrant an explanation, you already knew. In your time together you’d come to realize that she gauged her success by how fast she finished you, and your unusually short performance just now made her ecstatic.

You weren’t sure why, nor did you understand how she defeated your usual stamina in just over a minute. She hooks a hoof around your head and pulls you into her massaging lips as if to congratulate you on your performance...or lack thereof. Under normal circumstances you’d be a bit disappointed that you couldn’t satisfy her naturally higher libido the way she’d grown accustomed to, but her smiling, smacking lips manage to convince you that it didn’t matter.

You decide you're not going to question the blessing.

For the time being, you make out passionately as you both celebrate another successful bonding moment. You break with a squeak and breathe.

“That was-*huff awesome.” She remarks.

“Y-Yeah.” You reply, out of breath.

You stay inside her for the moment and she thoughtfully refrains from fidgeting in light of your post-orgasm sensitivity. Instead, you occupy yourselves by nuzzling and kissing as the water continues to berate your steamed bodies. The proud smile on her face was still evident as she kissed along your jaw, then down your neck, and it forced yours to mirror as you return the caress. The short fur of her neck is lush with moisture that gets effectively removed via your sucking kiss. You chuckle to yourself at the new discovery. More kisses shower her neck as you suck the water from her fur, and you start to feel a new addiction coming on. The mineral-rich tap water actually tastes good once it’s filtered through her fur.

Ponies could indeed get hickeys. It wasn’t easy to do as her fur would normally prevent a good seal, but the water in this case allowed just that. Lips plant another sucking kiss on her neck and pull off with a loud pop.

Dash’s neck was more sensitive than she’d initially let on, and if her vigorous return hickeys said anything, she definitely enjoyed them. You can’t help but giggle as you leave more marks on each other knowing full well the whole world would know of your intimate moment when they see them.

An aftershock in her crotch makes you realize that you hadn’t shrunk one bit, and to avoid getting her worked up half-way, you make an effort to pull out. Once you break the tight seal, the products of a day’s worth of daydreaming comes pouring out to audibly slosh onto the floor. Her ears perk and she pulls back to meet your terrible blush—obviously flattered by the volume of your gift. She blushes and licks your heated cheeks, simultaneously acknowledging and quelling the fires of embarrassment that fanned up uncontrollably.

You take your time rinsing yourselves off before carrying her out of the shower much the same way you carried her in. Her wings were still out, but after her relief, they tended not to be nearly as stiff.

You let her to her hooves and help dry her off before using the same towel on yourself. As you go to hang it up, you notice the crossbar of the rack is loose; a closer examination reveals that the screws were ripped halfway out of the wall, “Dang Dash, your wings are pretty strong.”

She steps over to look at the rack out of curiosity, “Uhh…heheh, sorry. But it’s your fault too ya know.”

Here come the excuses, “You know, I’m not even worried about it.” You thread the towel behind the bar and drop it on the rack—ripping it the rest of the way out of the wall. Your cat-like reflexes force your foot to dodge right into the path of the tumbling crossbar and it impacts with a muffled thud.

You suck in a deep breath of air and contemplate letting out a string of expletives, but instead you just hold it.

Dash stifles a giggle with her hoof, “Heh, here, lemme get that.” She cleans up yet another broken fixture in your beat-up apartment and lets you rub your foot.

“Thanks…I guess we’re just clumsy tonight.”

The pegasus essentially brushes everything into the corner to be dealt with at a later date, “Speak for yourself bud. Who you calling clu-umsy?” Her brief stutter is accompanied by tail twitch and wink.

“Look, all I’m saying is that there were mistakes on both sides—“

“—Like the uh, heh…the soap bar?” She interjects with a mirthful grin.

You own your mistake, “Yes, like the soap bar. But even with that you still liked it.”

She blushes and gets defensive, “Th-that’s beside the point.”

“Oh is it?” You wiggle your brows to make her even redder. She’s so cute when she does that.

“Y-yeah! Besides, I made you finish fast too!”

“Well, what can I say? You’re a beautiful mare.” You pause and wait for the extremely gratifying look of pleasant surprise cross her face. She has no response for your compliment and you don’t ask for one, instead you limp over to the counter to brush your teeth.

In your defense you were only mildly exaggerating your injury, nevertheless, Dash doesn’t let you get away with it, “You want me to get you some crutches dude?” She prods weakly. The jab almost sounded like genuine concern as she tried in vain to be anything but smitten.

“Nah, I think I’ll be alright.” You prep your toothbrush and squeeze some paste onto hers.

“Thanks.” She responds before beginning her extremely thorough brush, “Buh uh, iph ou wanh some I cah.”

For a speed junkie like her she sure takes her time on the strangest of things, you ponder as she scrubs her teeth like a regular hypochondriac. In the background, your brain finishes deciphering her garbled speak in time to respond in rhythm, “Nope, I’m a pretty tough guy you know.” You peek over just in time to catch her amused look, “Especially when I’ve got my favorite mare to dote on me.” You finish with a playful mane-ruffle.

Instead of dodging away like she usually does, she leans into your gesture with a simple smile. Huh…that never failed to annoy her before, and no snarky comeback for the comment.

Putting the thought aside, you wet your brush and get to business. The lingering humidity had fogged up the mirror to the point that you were little more than tan and blue smudges.

You take the initiative and clear a spot in front of your face to see, and a moment later, Dash copies you. Another few seconds of inactivity pass while you switch to your upper jaw. Dash abandons the brush in her mouth to free a hoof again, but instead of making a bigger spot for herself, she clears one to give you a line of sight to each other.

With the relative anonymity of the hazy mirror broken, a smile cracks your face. Her lively magenta eyes make it hard to focus on the task at hand; there’s not much privacy in this apartment anymore…and you’re perfectly ok with that.

She stays there for a moment, her toothbrush cocked out to one side of her muzzle, her forehoof held tentatively to her chest. One more correction: this time she rounds out the upper edges and tapers the bottom. Finally satisfied, she settles back down and resumes brushing with tucked ears and a giddy smile.

It takes you a moment to focus on anything but her face, but once you do, you realize she’d formed a heart on the glass.

If you could melt, you would’ve right then and there. This is what you live for. Quiet moments like these where she lets you see through everything to glimpse her naked feelings.

No words could express what you have to say, and if there were any you wouldn’t be able to speak anyways. So you just keep brushing; all the while keeping your loved one’s beautiful face framed in a portrait of her own creation. You finish first, but keep scrubbing anyways until your partner’s done—otherwise you’d feel guilty for moving and breaking the perfect alignment.

With her enamels cleaned, she spits and rinses, grinning to check her sparkly whites in the waning haze of her reflection. Once you’ve done the same, you gather your clothes and break the seal on the door. Cold air chills your damp bodies and sends a shiver down your spine. The rainbow mare takes a short lead with a perk in her step. Contrary to what you’d expect, she wasn’t getting any more accustomed to the lingering sensations; the only reason she wasn’t tripping over herself was because of your relatively short encounter.

She pauses when she gets to the living room but quickly realizes you must’ve cleaned up before your reunion. You risk the frigid air to fish a pair of boxers out of the dresser and she patiently sticks by your side. You peer over at her, intrigued by her decision to wait for you, but you only get a blank stare that offers no answers.

Bedding down for the night was your favorite time of the day; it was warm, relaxing, and brimming with pleasant memories. But most of all, it was an opportunity to snuggle up close and converse with the furry blue pegasus. You pull back the blankets and Dash crawls in before you—holding it open with her wing to let you in after. With both your bodies under the same tent, she collapses the roof and fidgets closer.

Blue hooves weave through your limbs to wrap around your chest and you feel her wing unfurl across you while she burrows her muzzle into the crook of your neck. She exhales a hot breath—the first of many you’d be blessed with tonight. This is perfect.

The brief moment of mandatory snuggling is punctuated by an equally mandatory lip peck, then she speaks, “Did ya get the week off dude?”

“Oh! Almost forgot…no I’ve got to go to work.” You reply with a poker face.

Dash’s content features become mortified. You never thought her beautiful fur could lose color, but it did, “W-wha…?” She’s so taken aback with her ears perked and her nostrils flaring that she almost looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

You’re equally terrified by her response and you’re overcome with empathy for the mare you’re so emotionally entwined with. Crap you didn’t think she’d take it that badly, “Oh, Dash I’m just kidding! I got it approved, I’m sorry!” You blurt.

It takes some time for your words to sink in as her panic refuses to give in so easily, “Y-you mean you can go?” A hint of confused terror remains in her voice.

Go? She must’ve actually planned something…that would explain the reaction, “Of course I can.” You stroke her cheek and neck to calm her while you mentally berate yourself for distressing her.

Her features finally relax, “Heh, for a second I thought I was going to have to go to your work and threaten your boss.”

“Geez, that’s a bit harsh don’t you think?” You gaze into her eyes as her hind hooves find your sore foot under the sheets. She hadn't forgotten about the injury.

“Not really…because I already reserved our spots for tomorrow.” You feel her soft frog rub up against the location of your bathroom bruise with the intention of abating the lingering soreness she saw on the walk out.

She really did plan something. You smile in unexpected anticipation and curl your foot back to meet hers better, “You got reservations for somewhere?”

She cracks a toothy grin, “Check it out dude…it’s so awesome! Are you ready?” She asks excitedly, she’s obviously been waiting to tell you this. Her giddiness rubs off on you and you nod for her to continue.

“Ok so…picture this, a hot springs resort…in the Foal Mountains!” She paints the picture for you by drawing a hoof across the sky, “Isn’t that sooo awesome!” Heh, her voice cracked.

The Foal Mountains…they are known for their popularity as a vacation spot…but the thing that excited you the most was the idea of going on a vacation together…it kind of makes you feel more officially together.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome!”

Your response only validates her enthusiasm, “I know right!”

You squeeze her close and kiss her cheek, “You’re the best Dash!”

She squints and smiles and continues rambling as you press your forceful kiss, “There’s like fireplaces for smores and, and pools and stuff!”

“How’d you get a room last minute?”

She pauses briefly before her hoof rubbing resumes at a pace that matches her train of thought, “A room?”

“Yeah. If it’s like a holiday resort type deal, I would expect them to be booked.”

“They did say there were a lot of ponies interested, but I just rented it and they stopped complaining.”

Seems like less of a hassle than…wait.”So they just let you rent a room? Is it because you’re a Wonderbolt or something?”

Understanding crosses her features, “No, no, nothing like that…uhh, they have like two or three resorts in the area, so they said they’d just move every pony else to the other ones after I rented it.”

“By rent it you don’t mean the whole place?” You ask for clarification.

“Yeah.”

…Holy shit.

You just stare at her innocent smile for a moment, “You rented the whole resort for us?”

“Yep! I just thought it’d be nicer that way so like…no pony would bother us…” She trails off and blushes.

You’re still trying to swallow the fact that your mare just bought out a high-end resort for a whole week. You knew the Wonderbolts paid well, but damn.

Her blush finally catches her attention and you realize it’s your turn to speak, “Wow that's...I don't know what to say.”

She beams at you. You contemplated telling her that she didn’t need to spend that kind of money on you, but you didn’t want to come off as unappreciative of her present.

Regardless, she seems to sense your thoughts, “I-I know it’s a lot, but…I was just thinking that, um…this way we can like…” You massage her ear to suppress her timidity. She takes a deep breath before finishing, “…this way we can make sex, without worrying about other ponies!”

Her wings bob a bit under the sheets and you decide not to correct her cutely mixed terminology. This vacation is sounding better and better, “That’s a good justification if I’ve ever heard one.” She uncontrollably grunts when you dig into her ear’s sweet spot and she massages your now recovered foot with more force in return.

“So we’re leaving in the morning then?”

The look on her face was one of pure happiness, like a kid going to bed on Christmas Eve, “Yeah but no rush. They told me they’d hide the keys so we can get there whenever we like.”

You just grin and stare at each other for a moment as the outlook of your situation gradually catches up to you, “This is going to be so fun!” You explode and wrap her up in a bear hug.

Your genuine expression makes her chuckle, “Whaddaya say we get to sleep so we can get there faster?”

In a flash you turn off the lamp and pull her down into the blankets with you—quickly finding resting spots for your heads a few inches apart. She chuckles a bit more at your excitement, and you home in on her breath to plant a passionate goodnight kiss.

In the wake of your excitement, you remember a lingering question that’d been bugging you since you came home, “Hey, kind of a change of subject, but is there any reason why you emptied my hamper earlier?”

She doesn’t immediately respond, “Uhh…heheh, like I said…I kind of missed you.”

“Well, I missed you too…more than you know.” You can feel her smile against the pillow, “I guess it just worried me a bit because I’ve never seen you like that before.”

The soft pad of her hind hoof's frog still massages your foot at a constant pace.

You lean in and nuzzle her nose before pecking her again and settling in for a good night’s sleep. You sense a question on the tip of her tongue, but she just curls her wing around your shoulders and scoots into you. Her hoof finally comes to rest against your foot. A whole week alone in a resort with Rainbow Dash…how could it get any better than that?

“Uhh…Anon?” She exhales a sweet breath that you take in.

“Hmm?”

Her ears scrape the pillow as she folds them, “You do know I’m in heat, right?”

“Dash!”

You yell down the street, ignoring all the strange looks you get from bystanders. Her tail soon comes into view as she backs around the corner—dragging a family-sized suitcase that’s bursting at the seams. One of the cheap wheels had already broken off and the other was not long for this world.

You yell out, “Do you want some help—”

“—No!” She cuts you off from half a block away.

“Ok.” Ponies pass you with inquisitive looks while you patiently wait for her to catch up.

When she finally does, she drops the bag with a grunt and pauses to catch her breath. She shoots daggers at any nosy pedestrian to convince them to mind their own business, then, she turns to you, “Wait, we aren’t there yet?”

“No.”

“Well why’d you stop?”

“Because I was waiting for you.”

She responds indignantly, “Why were you waiting?”

You ponder your next statement carefully before deciding she’s got it coming, “Because you’re slow.”

A spark starts behind her eyes and in a few short seconds it’s a raging flame, “I’m what?” In the middle of the street, the fiery mare somehow makes you feel like you’ve got your back in a corner.

Uh-oh. Upon further consideration, you conclude you’d chosen poorly. Your next sentence reveals your sense of self-preservation is still very much alive, “I uh-*ahem that was just a joke, but…” her eyes narrow even further, “...I think that, at least for now, we should maybe use some teamwork to get to the train on time.”

You keep your fingers crossed and wait for a response. The teamwork thing usually works, “Fine, but only because half of it’s for y—uhh, I mean yours.” She corrects herself.

That’s definitely not true, you fit everything you needed into your backpack.

You nod anyways to find common ground and heave the case aloft—almost dislocating your shoulder in the process, “Geez it’s heavier than you! What’s in here, your weight sets?” You struggle grip on the slobber-slick handle. Why can’t ponies carry things with their hooves like they’re supposed to?

“Just shut up and help me carry it!” She huffs, and gets underneath it to support with her back. With the brunt of the weight take up it made for light, if awkward work.

Dash normally was pretty easy to smooth things out with. It must be her heat getting to her. You felt pretty familiar with the typical tropes of a mare in estrus, but you also know your pegasus was anything but typical.

Finally, the station comes into view and there, sitting in steam waiting, is the train.

Dash immediately perks up, “Awesome! The train’s already here! Hurry up Anon let’s get a good seat!”

“Dash, its-*huff...it’s been here for a while.” But your words fall on deaf ears. Suddenly, you’re bearing the full weight of the suitcase as your excitable companion shirks her duty to get a head start on your adventure.

Under any other circumstances you might’ve been annoyed, but with how much effort she’s already put into this impromptu holiday, you know she’s anything but inconsiderate. By the time you trudge your way to the platform, Dash is already standing before the carriage door; her beaming smile sparks an urge to hurry up.

The locomotive sounds it whistle, the shrill screech piercing the air and warning everyone in town that it was their last chance to board, “Hurry up Anon it’s about to leave!”

You don’t say. You finally hand off the bloated bag to the train attendant and try to ignore his bulging eyes as he shakily moves it to the cab compartment.

Weak legs carry you up the steps and both of you enter the carriage together. Dash pauses, as if surprised at the amount of ponies who’d arrived on time to claim the more desirable seats.

You move past her with a gentle head pat and she obediently shadows you to the front most bench. You usher her in first, knowing she loves the window seat, then sit down next to her as the train engine barks and smoothly pulls away. She jabs you with a wing and squee’s like a filly, “This is gonna be so awesome!”

You chuckle at her antics, “I can’t argue there.”

Her grin lingers on you for a while before turning back to the window. The houses and shops of Ponyville roll past at increasing pace till they give way to the trees on the outskirts of town. As you watch the scenery whip by, you feel Rainbow dig into your backpack.

She retrieves the pack of bubblegum you keep there and pops a piece in her mouth. Her ears perk as you watch her chew it up, “You good dude?”

“Yep.” You nod, “I just realized I forgot to bring my book.”

She blows a tiny test bubble and pops it. Her voice responds, dripping with satire, “Oh, how will you ever learn proper courting techniques if you don’t have your sappy romance novels.”

Oh here we go again. You thought you’d hid Scarlet Hewn Wings well enough in your nightstand, but a week ago you walked in to find Dash smirking as she casually flipped through its pages, and since then she hasn’t let a day go by without reminding you, “Hey, I’m a sappy guy you can’t blame me.”

She smirks and smacks her gum, “So you admit it then?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were reading another romance book.”

So that’s how she wants to play. “Dash, why would I want to read a book on it when I can just practice with you?” You nudge her shoulder.

She turns a bit red before discreetly looking around to make sure nopony heard you, “N-not so lou—”

*—smooch

A peck on her cheek steals her remaining courage and she shrinks into her seat. You lean over with a smug grin, “You are just the cutest thing I’ve ever—ooph!”

An elbow jab stops your jibe, but not your smirk. The train trundles along and for the first few minutes, your rainbow companion stays pretty quiet, occupying herself by blowing more bubbles and tracking random things passing by, but she can’t hold her grudge for long.

“Hey Anon?”

“Mhmm?” You respond without stirring from your dozing position.

“Let’s play a game.”

“Hmm?”

She barely notices your lack of enthusiasm, “I spy!”

“I’d have to open my eyes for that.”

Her scratchy voice falls silent for a moment, “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz that’s lame!”

“Oh no the last thing I want to be is lame.” You respond with more satire than you intended.

You feel her glare, “I spy with my little eye a grumpy—”

“—Me.” You interject with the correct answer.

She crosses her forelegs and turns to face you in her seat, “I spy with my little eye a lazy little—”

“—It’s me.”

Her eyes narrow further, her voice comes back more curt, “I spy with—”

“—Lemme guess, me.”

“How do you know? I haven’t even started describing what I’m looking at!”

You peek over to sample her feistiness, “You’ve been staring at me the whole time, what else could you spy?”

She pauses a moment at your solid argument, “I-I can use my peripherals! You don’t know!”

“No, but I can guess.”

“Arrgh, fine! I’ll pick another game.”

“Oooh I’m excited.”

“Cut the sass.”

“Yes ma’am.” At this rate there was no chance you were getting a nap in, and playing a game with your mare wasn’t exactly a bad alternative, “What’re we playing?”

Proof of interest rekindles her dampened enthusiasm, “We’re gonna see who can blow the biggest bubble!”

Your resurgence in motivation was immediately dashed, “Aw Dash, you remember what happened the last time you tried that?”

“What’re you talking about dude?”

“You know, when you got it stuck to your muzzle?”

The distant memory comes back to her but she’s too dedicated to the idea to back down now, “Pfft! That was like...no big deal.” She averts her eyes as her recollections contradict her words.

“I was picking gum out of your fur for two hours.”

She smirks when she thinks back to the painstaking procedure you’d both endured. It was one of the earlier memories from your time as friends, “So, I never make the same mistake twice!”

You sigh, “If you say so.”

“I do. Now watch!” She smacks her gum and forms it around her tongue before bracing it against her teeth. She blows but it ruptures with a quiet click, “Hold on, that was a bad one.”

She tries again and blows a pink bubble the size of a golf ball.

*pop!

Some heads turn and your competitor grins, “Alright Anon, let’s see what you got!”

Without hesitation she extends the chewed up gum on the tip of her tongue. You pick it off and pop it in your mouth—chewing it up to renew it’s elasticity, “So how are we measuring this exactly?”

“Uhh, just whoever blows the biggest bubble.”

You make a solid entry into the competition, your bubble is noticeably bigger than hers. The ease with which you form it makes her anxious, and after two more even bigger attempts she’s chomping at the bit to get another go. Before you can react, she pushes her muzzle into your lips and her nimble tongue steals the gum from your mouth. She pulls back with a slight blush and peeks over the bench to ensure nopony saw, “What? Your fingers taste funny.”

She chews silently before blowing another one, slightly bigger than yours. There was more than enough potential to keep going, but she errs on the side of caution. Her smiling muzzle consolidates the gum before the next kiss off. Due to the efforts of two determined mouths, it’d been thoroughly worked over and was now in the prime of its pop-ability: a fact you demonstrate with champion bubble and accompanying crack.

Her smile disappears, “M-My turn!”

Not willing to argue, you put it back in her mouth and she starts digging in your pack again, returning with two more sticks of bubblegum.

“Dash…” You warn.

“Shutup I just need more, this one’s too chewed up already!”

You surrender to her overwhelming will. She wastes no time popping the extra material in her mouth and merging them with their veteran brother.

Her eyes narrow on yours while she obnoxiously chews. Then, she poises and blows. Her cheeks puff as she surpasses your previous record with ease. She pauses to breathe, and then keeps blowing. Just as you’re about to warn her again, she stops—having secured her spot on the leader board.

She smacks with a grin, “Haha! Beat that!” She leans in to give you the fat glob, but you both nearly lose it attempting a delicate trade off. Learning from your lesson, you push into a deep kiss and pass it between well sealed mouths. Both of you stay like that a moment longer than the hand off required; just enough to make you forget you’re supposed to be adversaries. You break with a squeak and two wide smiles.

You notice some of the other passengers looking on curiously, only to avert their eyes the moment either of your heads turned.

But with the competition in full swing you pay them no mind and surprisingly, Dash doesn’t either. Your next attempt is impressive, but at best it only matched hers. You swap one more time so she can increase her victory margin. She liberally applies her tongue to the task and wipes away a short spit string when she's finished. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was trying to draw attention. Again, the display turns some more heads, but she doesn’t seem to care as she chews—her eyes locked solely on you.

“You already won you know.”

“Well duh, I won before we even started.”

Despite her victory she wasn't about to quit with such a small margin. A pink bubble sprouts from her muzzle tip and promptly grows. It sounds similar to a balloon as it inflates well past her previous record, growing thinner and more transparent with each labored exhale. Just when you think she’s going to stop, she puffs her cheeks and squints her eyes shut in concentration. Oh no.

She struggles to keep the gum grounded to her teeth as more and more of it gets taken up in the softball sized bubble in front of her face, “Dash, I think you should—”

—*pop! The bubble ruptures to cover her muzzle and her eyes go wide.

You sigh, “...stop.”

She paws at her muzzle and leans back into her seat so the ponies across the isle couldn’t see her failure. “Hey, stop that you’ll just make a bigger mess.” You nudge her hooves out of the way and start pulling bits of pink gum from her blue fur. Her thankful eyes meet yours. Your look said enough; an ‘I told you so’ would’ve been redundant and unnecessarily damaging to her already wounded ego.

"Heh, did you see how big that got?" Blue hooves sneak up before you swat them away.

"Leave it, you need fingers for this." Luckily the gum was coming out easier than last time.

She obeys but snickers again, "Heheh, but did you see it?"

Her smirk was more playful than confident. She never gives you a break does she? The competitive mare just couldn't pass up an opportunity to brag about her bubble-blowing abilities, and perhaps her oral dexterity in general.

“What can I say? I guess you’re better at blowing than I am.” You response slyly.

She tilts her head, perplexed, “What?”

You chuckle to yourself, “It’s a...it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Not only was Equestrian lingo different in that regard, but Dash was also too inexperienced to pick up on the innuendo. It wasn't like you had conversations about it.

“So? Tell me!”

You look around cautiously then whisper “It’s probably not best to say it here—"

"—Oh come on!"

"Alright alright just calm down, I'll tell you!" The slightest hint of a smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth, but she doesn't boast her victory just yet, "It was a reference to that um...that thing you sometimes do with your mouth."

"What, talk?"

"No, like...in bed."

"I've never blown on anything in bed?"

"Yeah, I don't really get it either because it says blow but really means the opposite—"

"—Oh, you mean when I give you muzzlejobs!"

The car falls silent with the exception of a snickering colt being shushed by his mother. Dash realizes how loud she was and her face goes beat red. Slowly, you turn around and all the eyes that'd been staring at you dart away, except for an elderly mare near the back. She just scowls.

You throw an arm around your pegasus just so she doesn't feel alone in her embarrassment.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent and your previously exuberant companion remained calm after getting cleaned off. The lesson in moderation was apparently taken to heart. Only after the cab empties at your layover at Canterlot station does she finally relax and pick up conversation.

She sighs sweetly before muttering into your shoulder, “This is nice.”

There weren’t many traveling to the mountains and you almost had the whole car to yourselves. The extra intimacy the relative privacy offered was a tantalizing glimpse of what the week held in store for you.

“Hmmm?”

“Its nice to finally be getting away. I’ve been super busy with training and managing the weather schedule. The Cloudsdale dunces sent the cold front two days early so we had to make do with who we had on watch.”

“Now that you mention it, I thought that snow was scheduled for today.”

She sighs, “It was. Not gonna lie dude, I thought about flying over to Cloudsdale control and bucking some teeth out after practice last Friday.”

You stroke her shoulder, “Well I’m glad you didn’t, otherwise we’d be spending the week playing cards through a jail cell instead.”

“Heh, yeah.” The train rocks and she steadies her lean on you, “It's also been a lot of work organizing this.” She admits.

“Oh I can imagine. I still can't figure out how you managed to rent an entire resort this close to the holidays.”

“You’ve got Wonderbolts to thank for that.” She muses, “They have an agreement with the company that owns it. When we go on tour we stay at one of their places if there aren’t any barracks.”

“So this isn’t the only place they have?”

“No they’ve got like, a bunch of resorts all the way out to the Crystal Empire, but this one is the coolest in my opinion.” She catches herself with a sudden realization, “You can come with us on the next tour and check them out if you want!”

“They’d let me do that?”

She pauses to check herself, “Well, technically they have to allow spouses to go TDY with us…” She looks up at you with genuine curiosity, “...you’re my spouse, right?”

The obvious answer shoots to the tip of your tongue but your pause catches her interest. Technically, spouses were bound in legal marriage, but in Equestria, mates were considered to be lifetime partners with marriage being a privilege of the wealthy. You look into your lover’s big beautiful eyes; she doesn’t know what to do so she just smiles.

“I’d say so, I mean, we are mates right?”

“Yeah!” She catches herself and blushes a bit.

You pull her tighter into your shoulder, “I sure feel like your spouse, so it’s probably close enough.”

An ear-to-ear grin splits her face, “Me too.” Satisfied, she tucks her muzzle back into you and lets your loving touch work its magic.

You look out the window, admiring the snowfall for a good minute before speaking, “Still though, an entire hotel? The Wonderbolts have that much sway?”

“Not exactly,” she grunts as you hit a good spot under her ear, “I had to bargain a bit with them since it was short notice.”

“I hope you didn't spend a fortune just for me Dash.”

“It wasn't that much. I managed to work it out so it's just gonna be you and me. No staff or anything; so that made it cheaper. It means we're gonna have to do everything ourselves but that also means no competition for the hot springs!”

"So I take it the Wonderbolts are totally cool with you doing this and taking a week off?”

Her ears fold to her head and she looks bashfully up at you, “Heh well, you see I kinda timed it so it would be in the middle of my heat. S-sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth at first, I just didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

"Oh?” you respond, with a hint of mock hurt. She’d managed to get her schedule, your schedule, and her body’s schedule all on the same page...impressive.

“So you’ve known this was coming then?”

“Yeah, sort of. I know it usually hits me this month, so once I started realizing that’s when I started setting everything up.”

“That’s pretty cool that the team gives you time off to deal with it though.”

She pauses before responding, “Yeah I guess, but they kinda have to.”

“You mean they’re required to give you time off for heat?”

“Yep. Because it’s the only time most mares can get pregnant so you get time off for it, as long as we’re not like, going to battle or something.”

“Huh, I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Yeah, well it means that if you don’t get me pregnant then I have to pay back the time.”

Your eyes dart to her relaxed features, “Really? I mean, is th-that something that you want? Do you know a way to make it work or, or do we just…”

Her smirk tips you off, “Hahahaha! You should’ve seen your face!”

“Dash!”

“Hahahaha! I’m kidding, of course I don’t have to pay it back!” She finally stops snickering to holds your gaze, the next moment you were embraced in a sweet kiss.

As you caress, you notice the elderly mare and another towards the back are watching you and gossiping quietly.

You’d bet that their eyes were more toward your companion than yourself. Dash wasn't quite a household name but she’s not far off.

A tingle runs through you and a smugness invades your brain. She was so down to earth you tended to forget that the mare who was contently sitting in your lap licking your teeth was also a model Wonderbolt, national hero, and role model for an entire generation.

You love her for different reasons, but it was pretty darn cool to see just how revered she was. They can gossip all they want.

*smooch

Damp lips pull off the corner of your smirk and she nuzzles your nose for a bit. You get the feeling that the affections had a dual purpose to nurture your self-esteem as well as to satiate her bubbling over giddiness. She'd never do this before if there was a chance anyone was watching.

As if to prove your point, she lets out a girly giggle as she rubs her cheek on yours. Questioning a gift is pointless so you just soak up the feel of her soft, warm fur and the smell of her face. Dash snorts when you kiss her nose. She offers you a final, quick nuzzle—just so you know you can't chase her off so easily, then, she lays down across your lap.

She pushes as far back into your stomach as possible and looks up expectantly.

A firm grasp ensures she won't roll off your lap, and with that knowledge she relaxes with a smile. Her hooves hold a hand against her soft fur while your free hand massages all the necessary spots to put her to sleep. You can't wait to see what this week has in store for the both of you.

Frozen white powder crunches underfoot as you conquer the steep trail to the resort step by step.

The landscape before you was not something you’d seen back on earth. Trees adorning the path had only begun losing their orange and yellow leaves, but thanks to the local weather team, there's six inches of snow on the ground.

Individual flakes are so big, that they don’t instantly melt to your palm as you examine them.

Four crunching hooves stop next to the bag in front of you and a second visible exhale joins yours, “That’s called snow. Pretty cool huh?”

You peek up at the smart-alack pegasus, then suddenly, you toss a scoop full of snow at her face and take off up the trail.

She snorts violently and shakes it off before tearing after you just as fast as her four legs and two wings would allow.

Your twenty yard head start disappeared in just about a second, and you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the blue blur rocketing towards you. Her momentum takes you clear off your feet.

*ooph!

You both hit the ground with a thud. Dash reaches out to grab a hoof full of snow, but you smack it out of her grasp while recovering. For the next minute you wrestle about in the cold, Dash trying her best to pay you back and you trying your best to defend yourself. But inevitably, she gains the upper hand and you’re forced to watch in horror as she gathers a snowball to brutally plow into your face with an audible—

*—thwack!

You roll away, dazed by the blow, “Ow! I didn’t hit you that hard!” You feign injury and gingerly clear the packed snow out of your eye sockets. Your whole face feels like pins and needles.

“You’re bigger so I had to use more snow!”

“Yeah but you used more snow and threw it harder.”

“…Yeah. That makes sense.”

You finish wiping your eyes, “To you maybe.” Dash stands a few feet away with another snowball in her hoof, but she drops it and stomps it into the ground when you look at her, “You were going to hit me again?”

Shifty eyes accentuate her guilty expression, “N-no…”

“Were you at least going to wait for me to recover first? Or were you just going to hit me again when I was blind and helpless?”

“No, but quit being such a baby Anon, you’re like twice as big as me.”

“Well…you should’ve finished me when you had the chance!”

Her early warning sensors only succeed in perking her ears cautiously, and she squeals in surprise when you tackle her to the ground, “Hahahaha-quit it-hahaha!” You wrestle her into the snow with no real objective, but quickly take a wingful of snow to the side of the face.

Dash scurries away while you recover and stops farther up the trail to make sure you're chasing her, “See, that’s what happens when you try to trick the fastest flyer in all of—ooof!”

A snowball silences her boast, “That’s it, you’re toast buddy!” She starts frantically forming a snowball of her own.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” You chuck your second one at her but she dodges and returns her own—hitting you square in the stomach. Dang those have some force behind them.

The battle moves down the trail allowing you to take cover behind the trees. Your hands have the advantage when it comes to making ammo quickly, but Dash was a smaller target and had wings...and your fingers are starting to freeze.

You peek out from behind your tree and spot part of her prismatic tail, just before it darts out of sight.

You peek from the other side and a snowball just misses your face. She watches the return throw with wide eyes, but doesn’t even try to move until it’s in midair. The packed snow explodes off her rump in a white cloud. She’s caught in the open so she attempts to run, but the snow bogs her down and you tackle her before she can take off. Normally she can dodge those with ease...the cold must be getting to her.

As if to prove your point, the mare barely resists, seemingly grateful for the contact. You hold her withers and look her in the eye. Her far off expression told you she was somewhere else; your game had run its course, “Getting cold Dash?”

Her drifting eyes meet yours, “A b-bit.” She gulps and scratches her hind legs together.

“Then let’s get you inside.”

You help her up and brush the snow off. The suitcase you left in the road gets retrieved and you finish your trudge up the trail. Normally, the resort would send a carriage down to the station to pick up guests, but since Dash’s deal granted the staff the week off, you had to make do with your legs.

Finally, you crest the hilltop and the cabin comes into view.

The blackened wood of the three story tall building contrasts distinctly against the mottled white backdrop of evergreens and snow. Its snow covered roof matches the snow capped mountain framed behind it and it's almost oriental style architecture lent it an element of mystery.

The scene is so striking that the normally careless rainbow pegasus stops to take it all in with you.

You quickly realize that the path you’d taken to get here was in a shallow pass of sorts—a pass that deepened drastically into the basin you were now standing in.

“Wow Dash, this is…”

“...Cool!” She finishes for you.

The excited mare takes off and you follow close behind. After crossing a covered walkway over a running stream you find large steaming pool with some smaller ones spaced around it. They weren’t too deep, but they looked to be carved straight out of the polished rock. You reach down and dip your hand in experimentally, “Whoah, this is really warm!”

“Duh, that’s why they call it a hot spring.”

"I know that, I just wanted to point it out."

She trots up the steps with a smug grin while you argue your point. The doors refuse to open, “Oh, almost forgot. They said they’d hide the key under the ice plant.”

You look around and immediately spot more than a dozen ice plants in pots, “Good security feature.”

The fifth pot you check has the key and you unlock the building. Lattice-framed doors slide open to reveal a warm, cavernous lobby. Dash walks in with a chuckle and you follow, closing the doors behind you to keep the heat in. The front counter has a conspicuously placed note.

Hello: Welcome to The Star Springs Mountain Getaway. Proudly owned by Luxury Accommodations, we hope you have a pleasant stay. Here are listed some rules of conduct, please abide by them at all—

“—Anon!” You hear her voice call from somewhere far away.

“Hold on Dash I’m reading the instructions!” You yell back.

With a rush of wind, your partner appears around the corner and drops to her hooves, “Pfft! Who needs instructions for how to vacation?”

You can save this for later. You fold them up and put them in your pocket for safe keeping, “Alright what have you got to show me?”

“Just follow me!”

You admire the minimalist architecture as Dash guides you down the hall.

“Look, it’s a weight room!” She exclaims upon reaching her destination.

It was small by any human standards, but they were so uncommon in Equestria that you can understand why she’d be so excited to see one. You look down at the giddy little pegasus, “Shall we check out the rest of the place or do you want to spend the whole time here?”

Much to your surprise, the mare actually pauses to think, “...Yeah, let's go look around!”

For the next hour you do just that. Not a single door in the resort goes unopened. The building had a lot of smaller rooms in it that varied in size depending on what you paid for; luckily, you had your choice of residence as no one else was going to intrude. You were just beginning to realize what that meant. You have this entire luxury resort all to yourselves...just you and your mare.

“Whoa Anon! We’re using this one!”

You break your trance and follow Dash’s voice into what must be the luxury suite. The room, at first glance, is twice as big as your apartment, complete with a master bath, walk in closet and living room with a fireplace and king sized bed. That must be a minotaur king size.

Dash leaps onto the bed and rolls on her back with a chuckle; you hop on and collapse next to her, “Geez Dash this thing is huge!”

“Heheheh yeah it is!”

Your grins grow in the ensuing silence. You know exactly what’s going through her mind...because the same thing is going through yours, “How many of these rooms do you think they have?”

“I don’t know but I say we claim this one, I’m tired of walking.”

“Me too.” You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and taking in your luxurious surroundings.

Dash pipes up, “Pool?”

“Pool.”

You spend the next minute digging through your backpack and suitcase looking for your trunks, but very intense peer pressure quickly convinces you to abandon them. Luckily, the rear pool was just outside the back door.

Dash breaks out first and cannonballs into the water, “Woohoo! Anon hurry up the water’s super nice!”

Despite her beckoning, you stand there peeking out from behind the door butt naked. It wasn’t your lack of decency that held you back, Dash still found it more normal than wearing clothes. It was the fact that you had to brave the frigid the twenty foot gauntlet to the pool’s edge.

Dash ducks under the water to warm her face, but when she doesn’t hear your splash, she surfaces to glare at you, “Don’t make me come over there and get you.”

She sounds just as mirthful as ever, but you know it isn’t a bluff, “Just give me a minute.”

She huffs and sits there, staring at you. She’s making this awkward on purpose. The tactic does the trick and forces you out from behind cover...just in time for a gust of cold air to buffet you.

You cover yourself as best you can and shrink back inside, “Nah, I’ll look for something to wear first—”

“—Anon get your butt over here or so help me I will drag you out kicking and screaming!”

Geez, “...Ok, fine.”

You take a deep breath and make a mad dash to the water. Instead of cannon balling, you hop the edge. The relief is immediate. The water seems hot at first, almost unbearably so, but after a few seconds you normalize and relax into it. Dash greets you with waiting hooves and a winning smile.

Her forelegs pull her into you as you sink down to nose-level to meet her, “See, toldya it’s warm.”

You smile back at her, “I never doubted you, Rainbow.”

Breaths mingle amidst the rising steam as your lips touch. Nimble puckers smack against each other, savoring the teasing sensations and distinct nose contact you could only get with this type of kiss. After a minute you break to look into her gorgeous magenta eyes.

With a rush of water you pull each other close again and crash your mouths to fix your wetted appetite. Her hind legs lift off the pool floor and wrap around your waist as you passionately kiss. The mare’s narrow tongue loses all restraint and liberally paints the inside of your mouth with naturally milky essence. Her breaths rush past your ear—distinctly hotter than the humidity rising from the water inches away.

She breaks away with a smack and a huff, trailing a thick string of spit from the tip of her loose tongue; you don’t have time to catch her eye before she kisses on the other side of your mouth. The reverse angle offered a new take on all her favorite exhibits, which she immediately goes to work on.

One hand holds her petite frame tightly to your chest and the other travels of the back of her water-soaked mane and kneads the back of her neck. She never admitted it because she never slowed down enough to notice, but all the work she put in definitely created some tension. Your careful fingers start to relieve discomforts she didn’t know she had, and it fuels her slobbery love-assault all the more.

Her fore hooves pull harder on your neck in an attempt to get more of her tongue in you, and she takes to lapping at your shorter muscle. The mutual tasting continues as your breaths get more haggard. Finally, she breaks—and transitions to slowly licking your lips and cheek.

“Heheh, looks like someone’s happy to see me.”

Instead of a reply she moves back to lick your smile a few dozen times. The things this mare does when no one’s watching…

After finally getting her fill, she gulps and stops. Eyes drift to each other as you slowly circle the hot pool, “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while you know.”

You quirk a brow at her, “Oh have you?”

She smirks shyly, “I just...I enjoy it ok?”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I enjoy it too so uh...feel free to do it whenever you want.”

Now she shoots you a cocky grin, “Are you sure you really mean that?”

What angle is she working now…”Yep. I’m sure.”

“So if I show up to your work and walk into the middle of a meeting?”

“I would ask everyone to ‘hold that thought’ and proceed to make out with you for as long as you’d like, yes.”

She chuckles, blowing steamy breath across your face, “How about if you’re doing that thing where you’re like, trying to explain something to somepony because you don’t think they get it but they actually do and you just keep getting interrupted?”

That’s oddly specific. “Uhh...I don’t really see how that applies—”

—*smooch

“...but if you really think—”

—*smooch

“...that it’s a realistic scenario—”

—*smooch

“...then I guess I would—”

—*smooch

“—have to say yes.”

She snorts and smiles, and you pull in for one final kiss. This is perfect. You break and she hugs you to lay her chin on your shoulder. You hear her sigh contently.

For the next minute you lazily twirl about in the water; sunk as low as you can while still giving your noses clearance to breathe. She’s a lot lighter underwater.

“Uh, hey Anon.”

“Hmm?”

“You left the door open.”

You slowly rotate to confirm her observation, “Yeah...guess I was in a hurry to get in.”

“We should probably close it, otherwise you’ll be all cold when we go back inside and I’ll have to hear you complain about it all night.”

She does have a point...but you really don’t want to get out right now, “We can just find another room…”

“Anon, this one already has our stuff in it and it’s in a super convenient spot.”

She’s not wrong, “So...are we drawing straws or what?”

“Huh? Oh no, you left it open, you get to close it.” She says with a tone of finality.

As if on cue, an errant gust blows through the resort grounds and makes you sink lower for safety. Just get it over with. Without a word you leave her in the water and make a mad dash for the door. You slam it shut and jump back in before you have time to register the shock of it all. That wasn’t so bad.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Dash teases, paddling up to you and clinging on to warm you up even more.

“Easy for you to say, I don’t have any of that nice fur.” She smiles when she feels you pinch a tuft of her longer chest fur.

“But if I’d done it for you I wouldn’t have gotten to look at you again.”

Well that’s one way to set the mood, “Really? Because the last I checked, I’m naked right now and water is transparent.”

A hind leg slips between yours and graces your inner thigh, “I know…” she leans in to nip at your ear and whispers, “...but I can’t see the details.”

Her leg drifts higher to gently contact you. Her forehooves hold your face as she continues nibbling on your earlobe. It gets harder to think straight amidst the rush of hot contact, but you know where she’s headed with all of this.

She’s never been this direct before. You had a game plan when you woke up this morning. You knew what you were going to do and you had an idea of where and when, but the cyan pegasus had a knack for wiping your memory.

Suddenly, your back bumps into the rock wall and you find your motion halted altogether. Dash pulls back—dragging her damp muzzle along your jaw the whole way. Her hazy, half-lidded eyes come into focus amidst a shallow backdrop of steaming water. Your kiss flows naturally in your trance. Her furry lips focus on your bottom one as her forelegs brace around your chest.

She breaks with a moist pop. At some point she’d developed a light blush and it’s only emphasized when her ears fold even farther, “Just...stay still for a moment, ok?”

You nod slowly as she sinks lower and lower in the water. You follow her eyes until they close and her whole head submerges.

Even with her mostly out of sight, her hold on you remains. You lay back against the warm rock as you feel her walk down your torso with her forelegs; finally, they come to rest around your butt.

Amid the swirling of hot water, something soft and slightly warmer brushes past your member. It was already at full mast from your first kiss, a fact your submerged lover was now obviously aware of.

Two lips meet your tip and begin their agonizingly slow descent as she takes you into her mouth.

“Gah!”

Your cry of pleasure goes out unheard into the lonely mountainside, but your partner definitely feels it. Deeper and deeper she moves, sucking you in as you travel past her comfortably parted teeth and onto the cushy bed of her slick tongue. She grips you tightly to keep her seal waterproof.

Ever since she’d come to the sudden realization of muzzlejob mechanics on a hot afternoon while eating a popsicle, she’d been all too enthusiastic about sharing her discovery with you. Apparently she was unaware that it was a common thing, and frequently boasted about how good she is at coming up with romantic ideas without having to read sappy books. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t that uncommon. As far as she was concerned, the two of you were the only ones in the world who got to enjoy it, and you were fine letting her believe it. Besides, she did figure it out without anyone telling her so she isn’t wrong about being creative.

She bottoms out and you feel her lips suckle around the base of your shaft, forcing your toes to curl against the pool floor.

“Gah! Rainbow!”

Her longer muzzle lets her take you in with surprising ease, and she never experienced the slightest discomfort, a point you’d been adamant to emphasize.

Her slick tongue goes to work lapping and swirling and bathing your nerves in way that somehow expressed more love than lust. She didn’t have any particular routine, instead she just did whatever she felt like and enjoyed your inevitable responses. She behaved as if she were kissing you—pouring every ounce of her being into her leisurely but deliberate movements. Previous experiences seemed to support that idea; if you didn’t move things along, she’d often get lost in her own world and stay fixated on her target.

Now that you think of it. Your hand moves to the side of her face and detects her jaw flexing in conjunction with the incredible pulses of suction you were feeling. Gently, you nudge her to signal her to surface. She pauses as if to wonder why, before pulling off...and stopping halfway to forcefully lick your glans.

“Mh!”

Your legs almost give out, but a second nudge saves you. Dash’s furry blue form breaks the surface with a splash, a pool of rainbow floats around her squinting and snorting face. You help wipe some water from her eyes before finding them.

“What is it?” She asks, her cheeks a cherry red.

“I was just uh...reminding you to breathe.”

A look of confusion crosses her face, “What the hay do I lo—*cough! *cough!—ook like, some unathletic earth pony? *cough!”

“No...but air is still good for you.”

“I was underwater for like, ten seconds!”

She almost seems offended by your lack of confidence in her breath-holding ability, “Dash, you were down there for about a minute.”

Your respective experiences may have been shortened and lengthened by enjoyment and pleasure, but that didn’t change the fact that your partner’s comfort came first...even if she gives you a hard time about it.

“Dude, I’m not gonna pass out on you or anything.”

You suddenly feel stupid for your reminder, “Ok, but if you do there’s no lifeguards here.”

“Pfft! Then I guess you’ll have to fill in.”

Before you can respond she takes a deep breath and ducks underwater. You have to remind yourself to breath as you feel her forelegs hold her securely to your midsection. She carefully takes your length again, going just slow enough to ensure a solid seal.

You weren’t exactly sure where she got the idea of doing this, but you’re not about to discourage her.

You’d learned that ponies really don’t take well to having their gifts and efforts turned down for the sake of their own convenience…especially when they’re doing it out of the kindness of their own hearts. Dash was no exception.

Your relationship with Dash was based almost entirely off of emotions, any physical affections rose from that as a symptom rather than the driving force. Albeit, a very severe symptom. You never kept track of who owed who because you never owed each other anything. Satisfaction arose entirely from the joy and pleasure you brought to one another. It was impossible to simply give into the relationship without receiving anything in return, both in principle and because Dash incessantly tried to find ways to give back.

In a way it was a positive feedback loop. Happiness arose from seeing your partner happy, and happiness arose in your partner from seeing you happy…which in turn made you even happier. It was a wonder your heart could keep up with it all.

You’d even coined your own term for it: competitive affection.

The idea really fit well with her personality and in a general sense, it was completely true. You always tried to one-up each other with expressions of love, for no other reason than that you enjoyed it.

If that wasn’t evident enough as is, Dash’s submerged antics definitely drove the point home. She hooks a foreleg around your knee and twists her head to get just a little bit further down on you.

“Ah Rainbow!”

She grips you a bit tighter when she makes out the muffled sound of her name. You feel a twinge of guilt not being able to look her in the eye, but focus instead on what you can do to connect with her.

Your mare laps viciously at you amidst her haze-inducing suction. At this point your knees had long since given out and you were only upright because you held onto the pool edge. Your most sensitive tip was sandwiched between the palpable bumps on the back of her tongue and the ribbed texture on the roof of her mouth. She simply holds you there and suckles, moving only to twist her muzzle and get a different angle.

While the sensations alone were incredible, the far more appealing aspect was how enthusiastic she apparently was. The moment you let that thought grab hold, you sense imminent danger of losing control.

With panicked fervor, you find the mare and cup her cheek to pull her away. But the moment you do so she squeezes you even tighter and kneads your tip with her dexterous tongue.

“Dash I’m…”

The warning was unnecessary. Whether it was her aptitude for her interests, feminine intuition, or some sixth sense you didn’t have, she knew you better than you knew yourself, and her decision to not let up was made long before you even considered it.

You take a shaky breath and struggle to hold your position on the wall as your partner does her best to sap your remaining strength. You reach out and gently grab her ear; your eyes unfocus. Her rippling, prismatic mane turns into a collide scope of color and you can’t hold back any longer.

Dash pauses to curl her tongue along your underside—coaxing the first spurt out of your swollen tip. Her throat constricts to swallow and your one handed grip on the wall tightens as you grit your teeth to fire off all that you have into the unflinching maw attached to your crotch. She holds on tightly through it all and you can swear you feel her lips curl in a smile.

Finally, you have nothing left to give; after another tender moment of attachment, she slowly pulls away, lapping the mess off your tip before surfacing.

Red, yellow, and orange mane cover her face as she takes a big gulp of air. You immediately pull her towards you for support. You brush her mane out of her eyes as she catches her breath. Are you supposed to say something now?

“That was uh…really good.”

Amidst her struggle for air she finds it in herself to chuckle. One eye and a blushing cheek peek up at you, “R-really?”

“Yeah! I just um, I guess I just thought you wanted to wait until…you know…” You scratch your neck nervously. Way to sound unappreciative, dummy!

But Dash only smirks, “Heh, I kinda-*huff got a bit carried away…” Her eyes drop before she quietly stammers out the rest, “…it was w-worth it though.”

You’re not exactly sure what to say to that so you just pull her into your chest. Judging by her bashfulness the last thing she’d want is to bring more attention to is—

“—It was worth it for the taste I mean.” She nuzzles past your jaw with a blushing smirk.

“Dash…” You muster your condescending tone.

But she’s intent on egging you on, “Heheh, i-it’s kinda like—“

“—I’ll take your word for it.”

“But don’t ya wanna know?“

“Not particularly.” What has gotten into this mare?

A mischievous smirk grows on her damp muzzle as she leans in to whisper, “It’s not exactly like vanilla ice cream.”

“Aww gross!”

“Hahahaha!”

She’s never going to let that joke die, “Alright miss Dash, I think it’s about time we drain some of that feistiness.”

“Heh, not gonna happen!”

“No?” Your fingers graze a more sensitive area and she dips in the water as her hind legs immediately forfeit. You catch her by the root of her outstretched wing, ignoring the look of surprise on her face.

She clings to your chest, her machismo instantly forgotten in favor of intimate touch. You take a fore hoof off your chest and guide it to the edge while she looks at you questioningly, “Here Dash, hold onto the side for a minute—“

“—Anon, you don’t have to try and copy me.”

“You don’t want me to?”

She averts her eyes, “I just kinda wanna…stay here.” She brings her detached hoof back to cling to your chest.

The act makes your heart melt and you needn’t say anything else. One hand holds your precious mare’s head to your chest while the other drifts past her receptive dock. The scent of rain drifts up from her hair as fingers drift past her plot hole, down her perineum, and around the focus of your attention. She stays motionless and calm against you but sudden vigorous winking tells you a different story. You slide your fingers down her rump, squeezing her labia together and resisting the motion of her winking.

“Ghh!”

Her hips start moving on their own to replicate the motion you just made. One hind leg sticks out to the side and bumps into the pool wall—its only purpose being to stay out of the way. Ripples travel outwards, carrying with them a small portion of the mare’s pent up libido. Her movements pick up speed and start to get more erratic.

You stroke down her back, “Shh…just relax, this is my job.”

She lets out a deep breath and you reward her self-control by slipping a finger into her canyon. She whimpers and strains to spread her legs. You slide down her lips like before, pinching them between your middle finger and supporting ones. You stop when you bottom out in her clitoral cleft. Ever so gently, you gyrate around until you trigger a coiled nerve.

“Nngh!”

There it is. Her slick button squeezes past you forcing her legs to kick a bit. Her body springs into motion again, powered by the flame of an increasingly uncontrollable drive. This time you let her ride it out and relegate to doing the best you can.

Narrow hips angle to massage her sensitive bean on your finger and she rocks back and forth with increasing fervor.

You pull her higher up on your chest. The new position gave you better access to match her urgency.

Water splashes between your bodies and the combination of heats force beads of sweat to form on your face.

Your finger wiggling takes the necessity out of her movements and she slows before holding still. A kiss on her forehead reveals the strain of pleasure etched on her face and she grunts and whimpers as you continue to get her off.

The war wages on in her nethers as her active clitoris clashes with the dexterity of its suitor; Dash doesn’t dare move, knowing full well that the best way to scratch her itch is to let you do it for her.

The sprint of stimulation quickly wore down her stamina and before long she’s teetering on the edge of climax. Just as she’s about to tip, you let up.

“Agh, Anon!” She cries in desperation.

When you don’t immediately respond she looks at you for answers. You snag the opportunity to steal a kiss which she pushes into.

Your fingers go back to gingerly stroke her labia—just enough to keep her wound up.

The mare’s only response is to kiss harder to compensate for lack of stimulation.

Again, you stop for a moment and Dash pulls away in exasperation, “Anon…” Again, you tease her sheltered flesh, “…An-on…” Her gorgeous magenta eyes struggle to stay open amidst the haze of unrealized orgasm. She arches her back, grips your chest, and tries to rub herself on your leg. But you stay just on the edge of her reach, purposefully building her up for a more intense finale.

When she doesn’t get the stimulation she seeks her eyes return to yours, her breathing shallow and shaky, “A-non…please…”

That last yearning whimper broke what remained of your resolve and you do everything in your power to give her what she wants. With her back still arched, you pull back on her clitoral hood to stretch the loaded nerves therein.

Her shivering pauses for the briefest moment, then, you bring your lips to hers in a passionate kiss—sending the beautiful pegasus screaming down the precipice of climax.

She stays there, back arched, muzzle attached to yours, frozen in ecstasy. Her nub throbs in celebration and you do your best to prolong it by gently circling the sensitive spot.

Few things matched the feeling of fulfillment you got from bring your favorite pegasus to this point.

She stays paralyzed and silent for longer than usual and just as you begin to wonder, she relaxes and lets out a puff of air through her nose. Your mare relaxes onto your chest, rewarding you with a sigh of mixed content and relief.

Your palm now covers her, gyrating slowly to ease her off of her endorphin high. Her legs hang limp in the water and her wings start their painstakingly slow withdrawal.

Some deeply ingrained motivator pulls her out of her afterglow long enough to plant a thank you kiss on your lips. Then, she lays back on your chest.

For the better part of the next hour, you hold her close and keep her muzzle above the water while making lazy circles around the pool. Clouds descend from the mountains to fill your view with white, and a snowflake finds its way into your eye. As the weather hints at what is to come, your trusting mare rests peacefully on your chest, calmed by the heat of the water and the beat of your heart.

The sky is a few shades darker by the time you decide to get out. It’d also gotten a lot colder.

“You ready to head inside?” You pat her belly affectionately.

She opens her eyes for the first time in a while, “No let’s sleep out here.”

”Sure, I’ll be inside if you get cold.”

You leave her in the water and move to the edge, “Anon! You’re supposed to say something nice!”

“Oh? Since when did you become an expert in romance?” You hop out and cringe making your way to the door.

The sopping pegasus follows, “Since, like, I saw those sappy books you were reading!”

You reach for the knob, “So you didn’t read them you just looked at them?”

*click

It doesn’t turn and you both stop dead while that fact sinks in.

“You locked us out!”

“You’re the one that wanted me to close the door!”

Wind gusts past your wet and rapidly cooling bodies, “I didn’t know it was locked!”

Much to your chagrin, the tough pegasus shivers. If she’s cold then this is bad. Her voice cuts through your thoughts, “Ok, you try the front door, I’ll check the other side!”

You nod and split off. Clenching feet leave wet prints on the frigid cobblestone path. There was a fine line between moving too fast and losing heat to wind, and spending too long with any one foot grounded. You were relegated to picking the least uncomfortable option: speed walking. You remember locking the door behind you but maybe there’s another key.

Hurried legs carry you up the stairs onto slightly warmer wood, but the mild relief is dashed when you can’t get in. You might actually die out here.

In a panic, you start checking the the dozens of potted plants for a spare key, but none turn up. Just as you’re about to give up hope a thought crosses your mind. How much would a window cost? Whatever the answer is, is far cheaper than the risk of hypothermia. Even if you did wait it out in the warm pool, you’d have to get out eventually, and the weather was only scheduled to get worse.

You hoist the tiny plant over your shoulder and take aim at one of the smaller windows next to the door.

*crash!

The pot and glass shatter splendidly. You’re not looking forward to explaining it, but that was kinda fun.

The door clicks from the inside and your heart immediately sinks. It opens to reveal a dripping wet and unamused pegasus.

“Hey.”

She just stares with disappointment.

“I just thought that…uhh…it was the only way.”

“Get inside Anon.”

“Yeah.”

As she closes it behind you, the ballistic aftermath of your potted projectile becomes apparent. As does the thousands of sparkling glass shards that sprawl all over the lobby, “I’ll clean that up…and pay for it.”

“Just hold on for a minute.”

You move to start compiling some of the bigger pieces, “Wait! Don’t move yet I don’t want you to step on any glass!”

You abandon your efforts and wait for her to fly back with two brooms, a dustpan, and a towel to dry off, “I found these in the service room.” She hands them over before perching safely on the counter top.

The next hour is spent sweeping up debris and apologizing. It goes by a lot faster once you clear enough space for Dash to join in. Her hooves may have been hardened but her frogs were just as vulnerable as your bare feet. After putting the plant and some dirt in a cup, you tape a pillow across the hole and call it good.

Dash swats you with her tail, “Geez dude, we haven’t even been here a full day and you’re already trying to get us banned.”

“I’m sorry Dash it was really stupid of me. Just tell them it was all my fault and then—“

“—Whoah! Take it easy Anon I’m kidding!” You look over and see that she’s wearing her teasing smirk; it still doesn’t make you feel much better. If you’d just gone looking for her first you would’ve known she’d gotten in through the second floor window.

“Hey.” You come to an abrupt stop as she blocks the hallway in front of you. She stands on her hind legs and holds your shoulders, her eyes bore into yours, full of concern. “You know I’m not mad at you right?”

She’s got every reason to be, “I just don’t want to make you look bad since you’re representing the Wonderbolts and all.”

“Seriously? Dude whenever the team rents one of these places out they break stuff all the time!”

They probably don’t do it deliberately though, “Thanks Dash.” You trundle on holding the towel around your waist. Dash follows you silently into the room and you drag the suitcase to the closet to unpack.

A loud crash draws you back out to the main room and you see Dash standing over a broken decorative vase, “Oops, I must’ve bumped into it by accident.” She looks at you without an ounce of guilt. What the heck?

When you bend down to help her clean it up you feel her tongue graze through your hair. Looking up you see that she’s watching you closely. Did she do this on purpose to make you feel better? Staged or not, it actually did make you feel better…and she deserves to know that.

You pull her muzzle into you for a peck and you both smile. After finishing Dash taps your leg, “Throw that away I’ve got something you need to help me with!”

After finding the trash can you make it back to the bedroom to find her bouncing on the king sized mattress, “Uhh…should you be doing that?”

“Watch this!” She starts throwing in a wing flip with each bounce. The display was pretty impressive, but in light of multiple recent ‘accidents’ you fear the worst.

“Ok, yeah that’s really cool.”

“Then you’ll love this!” She throws in a twist with each bounce, getting dangerously closer to the edge each time.

You rush in to hold her down, “Whoahohoho yeah that’s…that’s neat.”

She comes to a halt and smirks, “You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“Of what?”

“My awesome tricks!”

“No…” You make your way around the bed and change out your towel for some real shorts.

“Yeah you are.”

Yeah you are, “Hey, didn’t you say you needed help with something?”

She perks up but dodges eye contact, “Uhh…yeah…”

“Well, what is it?”

She waits for a moment as she builds courage, “C-close your eyes f-for a minute.” You comply and hear her shuffle around, change her mind, then shuffle around some more. A scratchy, trepid voice says, “Y-you can look now.”

Before you lay your pegasus partner. Her rear end facing you and her head curled to gauge your reaction; one hind leg is held up by her foreleg and her dock is pulled back—baring her feminine region right at you.

Her cheeks flash red and she avoids your gaze. She’d never displayed herself like this before, anything you’d seen of her just happened in the heat of the moment. But now she wants you to look at her.

Her exquisitely toned form flows with her half-extended wing and rests amidst a pool of her own color. The unusually flexible position, held with ease, accentuates her hind leg and converges lines on her naked skin glistening with arousal—the only fur less spot on her otherwise pristine cyan body. A timid expression enters the picture and she musters just enough courage to meet your eyes.

She is gorgeous.

She’s unsure of what to say so she waits timidly for you to make a move. Even after all you’ve been through together, she’s still a bit shy with blatant expressions.

The sound of your unneeded clothes dropping echoes through the silence, followed by a audible leaky wink.

She winces and breaks eye contact again. The only desire you have is to make her realize that she’s got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re going to make her proud of that beautiful marehood of hers if it kills you.

You’re on her before she can lose any more confidence. Passing under her leg, you walk your way up her body and plant a lingering kiss on the side of her hiding muzzle, “You’re the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen Rainbow Dash.” You whisper before gently kissing her ear.

Her response is heavy breathing. By the time you make it back to her rear, she’d sprung a new leak. Even after this afternoon she’s still a bit pent up.

You barely resist the allure of her musk and focus instead on her inner thigh. While holding onto her outstretched leg, you plant an open mouth kiss inches from her radiating crotch. Her short fur carries a hint of her genital flavor and a lot of the smell simply from being in close proximity to her radiating need. You find yourself kissing her fur with the same care and enthusiasm you show for her lips; every part of her deserved as much love as you could give.

Her hooves twitch as you repeat a few more times, stopping when you can feel the hot air of her nethers moistening your cheek with humidity. You span the gap to her other thigh, taking the opportunity to inhale the smell of your mare’s excitement. But the well-known scent is laced with something different, something sweet.

It’s got the sugary air of an ice cream shop, but warmer…a hint of cinnamon? With the source under your nose you finally connect the dots and realize what you'd been catching whiffs of in the train earlier.

A nervous squeak grabs your attention and you realize you’d been sniffing blatantly at her muff for longer than what you’d consider normal. Her eyes briefly meet yours to gauge your reaction. You fight your instinct telling you to move on and instead take another whiff of her incredibly alluring scent to signify your approval, she always smells good, but this is...extra good. With that, she relaxes. She does this every time, it’s like she has to pass a test or something.

The allure of your partner becomes too great and you choose to forgo any further formalities.

Your tongue fans out over each warm lip individually, cleaning up any sprung leaks. She squeaks and shivers but stops when you pull yourself farther into her. Much to your surprise, the sweet smell you detected earlier is accompanied by a matching flavor. A hint of glucose not unlike what you tasted in your kiss earlier.

You take your time lavishing her sex with your tongue, all the while her winking nub tries to draw your attention to more sensitive areas. The leaks keep coming and coating her sex with appetizing flavor. The only way to fix this is to head to the source.

You tongue fans out over her cleft which parts from the pressure. The moment it does, all the lubricant she’d been building up comes spilling out around your maw, accompanied by an incredibly potent musk to match.

“Gaah!”

The close proximity made it easy to catch most of it, but that wasn’t your primary concern. Her enticing smell apparently wasn’t a novelty. It was only growing in proportion to her exposure...and it’s really, really good.

Mixed in with her heady musk, it stimulates your senses more than you expected. And the last rational thought you can afford before you become a victim of your mare’s allure is that you need more of it.

You push her leg back and press your lips harder against hers. Your tongue gorges itself on Dash’s natural product. It may have been a bit selfish, but there’s no guilt in the act because it’s mutually beneficial; you get dessert, and Dash...

“Ngah!”

You’re pretty sure she loves it too.

She squirms and bucks but is unable to dislodge you. Your tongue works in conjunction with your nose to focus harder on the incredible experience. The more of her you taste, the more you need to taste her.

The slick texture of lubricant fills your mouth as you do everything in your power to experience more.

Suddenly, the lights dim and you break with a loud squelch to breath. Colors you didn’t realize had faded fill the room and the naked mess in front of you. Don’t forget to breathe.

But the sight of her puffy pink labia and darker innards makes you do just that.

You use your fingers to spread her open, giving you a better view and more direct path to what you need. Closing the distance you tentatively taste her more sheltered area. Again, you detect an even stronger sweetness. You quickly connect the dots and spread her flower petals wide before you start lapping at her cherry red flesh.

“Ohoohoo!”

Your free hand rubs her belly to let her know you share her enthusiasm. The deeper you get, the more concentrated the taste, and more desperately you seek it. The concept seems foolproof so you decide to forfeit the bigger playground for the smaller one and plunge as far as you can into her canal.

“Agh-Anon!”

Your name earns a wiggle from your buried muscle and Dash kicks so violently her hips come off the bed. Her powerful clitoris pushes its way out of your mashed juncture to slime the side of your nose. Dash bucks and cries but gets nowhere once you lock her rump against you with all your strength. She’s powerless to express her impending climax, except verbally.

“Anooon! Gaah!”

Her whole body tremors and her powerful vaginal muscles wrestle with your invasive tongue as she cums. Some more concentrated sweetness surfaces from her depths, but it doesn’t take long to clean up.

Without giving her a break, you dive right back in, this time with more focus on her neglected clitoris.

Her hind leg bobs above your head—too weak to kick and too stimulated to go limp. Her other leg makes similar spastic movements across the wrinkled sheets. Looking up, you see her chest gulp deep, uneven breaths of air as the the stimulation only increases amidst her post-orgasm hypersensitivity.

The focus shifts from the taste to the mare; your eyes stay on her strained face to make sure you're maximizing her benefit.

You lick back forcefully on her walls a few times before sucking on her clit.

“Ghaaahaaa!”

Her second finale is indistinguishable among the aftershock clenches of her first, but you gauge it as best you can and ride it out with her.

Movements slow but they don’t stop. Your tongue wanders, the appeal of her scent reminding you of your appetite for the rest of her body. Licks sneak past her canal to encompass her perineum. Unlike her labia, the short path was covered with fine fuzz that was difficult to see, but evident under your discerning taste buds.

For some reason, the relative dryness of her other nethers seems like an offense and you mindlessly let your tongue guide you where further attention was due.

Seconds turn to minutes as the mare shakes and squeaks; she keeps her hind leg up, enjoying the added sensation of exposure it gave her. At no time does she give you any hints that she’s uncomfortable with her treatment...which makes it all the more surprising when you register the taunt pucker of her pristine plothole. Her dock, instead of slapping shut on your face, pulls back harder than ever.

Rather than being turned off, you’re spurred on by her receptiveness and continue to lavish her with more of the same treatment.

Just like everywhere else, her tan skin carried a hint of salt; she puckers tighter as you cross her central wrinkles and descend down her protruded wall to sample the salty crevice her fat donut made squished between her butt cheeks.

When you finally move on to her dock, you hear her let out a breath she’d been holding. She’d never turned you away from anything before, but she’d also never really presented...that part of her before. A fluttering fills your chest when you realize you both passed that trust exercise with flying colors.

You grab a handful of her tail and gently pull to let you in her dock. The area was saltier than normal and incredibly musky...and carried the same sweet smell. Though your tongue wasn’t picking anything up, the scent was most definitely there.

She fidgets and your other arm hooks comfortably under her thigh while you give the bare cavern the royal treatment.

A long, slow lick up the hairless underside of her tail nub signifies completion, and you break to catch your breath.

Dash’s shortness of breath also becomes apparent in the absence of smacking lips. For a moment, you soak up the sight of her glistening nethers. You can’t see her expression nor are you really trying to. But if rumps could talk, you’d bet hers was saying ‘thank you.’

She winks and a bead of fresh juice eeks out between her glistening lips.

“Anon.” You snap out of your trance and see her flustered but needy expression, “Can we...keep going?”

Her eyes shine with gratitude and a hope for something more. After all that she’s still this desperate? Heat is no joke, “Y-yeah...of course.”

She smiles before catching herself and remembering she’s supposed to feel embarrassed.

Her leg stays propped up and convinces you not to waste any time, “Just uh, put it in...please.” She sounds more needy than she did a moment ago.

Her leg aligns with your chest as your hips align with each other. You meet her eyes briefly before they dart elsewhere around the room. You steady yourself and prod at her, pulling back with a thick dab of lubricant on your very tip. You spread it around before aligning with her again and pressing deeper.

“Mmmmgh…”

Your father always told you there are only few things in life that never get old, working a job you love, helping someone in need, and flooring the gas pedal on a muscle car.

Hearing her moan while sinking the most sensitive part of your body into your rainbow pegasus was also one of those things.

You were no strangers to each other, but still, each time you bury into her you find something new and exciting that you never noticed before...like how her clenching resisted you until the right amount of pressure was applied. After that, it was as if she remembered your shape and form fit perfectly to accept you.

If her prior urgency meant anything, she’d likely want to cut to the chase. However, you held all the cards for the moment so you savor it. A gentle dip of your hips keeps her occupied long enough to grab her vertically extended wing.

Her canal clenches on you when she feels your fingers grace her leading edge. Her eyes widen with anticipation but still dodge yours. You pause to soak in her heat and muster the courage to pull out before penetrating her again while pulling back on her wing in perfect synchronization. The impulses from her stiff wing socket join in with those of her crotch as they fire up her spine and set alight the pleasure centers of her brain.

“Ooooagh!”

She moans aloud as her eyes are forced shut and her back arches erotically. Hilting again, you hold the position and press some of your weight into her, stretching out your own coiled nerves with your partner’s tight grip. You repeat.

“Ooooaaaagh!”

This time you stroke up the entire length of her flight appendage and pull her very tip back a few inches. With your free arm you hug her leg and repeat.

With each press into her depths she moans purposefully, and with each bit of added wing tension she makes your travel a bit tighter. Her hole seeps slick juices all over and despite her incredible musculature, there was nothing she could do to keep you from sliding in and out of her sex canal. Puffy labia seal around you to tease the top and bottom of your shaft with the slightest pressure; they also act as squeegee’s for Dash’s copious product production.

The normal mattress creaking you attributed to a good pace wasn’t there, so you’re forced to gauge by sensation alone. Her perfect hole seemed to grant every one of your wishes while at the same time inspiring ones that only the next thrust could fulfill. Nevertheless, a battle raged between the desire for motion and the yearning for intimate depth. You sporadically pause after hilting to grind your hips deeper into her easily accessible ones. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a compromise that would have to do until your incredibly inflated drive could at least be partially satiated.

“Agh! Dash you’re amazing!”

The compliment convinces her to look at you. Her eyes pour out so many emotions, all of which you pick up but none of which you consciously comprehend. What is apparent is that she’s much farther along the journey to release than you are. Her wing continues to get stroked while her other remains folded under her body weight, deriving its own pleasure from resisted expansion.

You continue to work your mare diligently until you feel something tap your head. Looking up, you find the limp end of the leg you still clutched to your chest. You momentarily abandon her wing to seize the hoof. With a bit of effort, you manage to plant a kiss on her sensitive frog.

“Haha-ooogh!”

She secretly likes having her frogs touched. You know because she’s always trying to touch them to you. She jumps a bit when you lick the soft pad. You slow your pace as you unconsciously time with her oral under hoof treatment. Out of the corner of your eye you can see her forehooves grasping at the sheets for leverage. Without thinking, you reach down and make chance contact with her love nub.

“Uh…”

Her teeth grit and her eyes squint and the next thing you see is her little hoof curl as her body passes failure point. Without missing a beat, hot fluid explodes from your juncture to blast a cluster of streaks on the bed. Just as you realize what’s happening, a weaker clench expels a clear bead of the same substance free of her rear. Residual spasms rock the length of her canal, and her form lays motionless on the bed except for her deep breathing. It happened again.

‘Mare-jizzing’ as Dash liked to put it, wasn’t as common as your second encounter had led you to believe. This was only the fourth time it’d happened, and it takes a moment to realize that it did happen. In your time since its first occurrence, you’d thoroughly tested out any potential triggers, but they gave inconsistent results at best.

You treat the development with the reverence it deserves and pause to let her soak up some of the sensations that overcrowded her brain. The distinct scent of her ejaculate reaches your nose; it had a bleachy odor, like a much more subdued version of your own, but it also carried that sweet tinge you’d noticed earlier. Leakage runs from the corners of her cleft in waning streaks. You plant a final kiss on her hoof which doesn’t show any of its previous signs of sensitivity, then, you let her leg down to give her a rest.

She stirs and looks back at you with such gratitude you’d think you just saved her life. Her eyes widen a bit when she sees the stains she’d projected near the edge of the mattress.

It was pretty impressive huh? A strange mixture of pride fills you; pride in yourself for getting her to cum that hard, and pride in your mare for trusting you with the strange sensations that'd surely been building up. You smile at her when she blushes hard, but she doesn’t look away this time.

She holds a foreleg out to beckon you closer. You fall into each other in a much practiced geometry and come to rest with your noses touching. Your eyes bore into your partner’s; they read her thoughts and sense her emotions. Hers do the same to you. Your hearts soar in conjunction as you share a sensual kiss.

Mouths linger while you breath in each other’s air. Forelegs hook your neck and your arms scoop around her withers to cradle her. By the time you break, your hips had already begun moving on their own.

Magenta eyes flicker but stay on yours through the unusually loud squelches and pops that her body is responsible for. You find a much slower rhythm and set your cruise control with a peck.

Her nose finds your neck as you explore the fur of her foreleg. Hot air blows across your sensitive skin in the short puffs indicative of a curious nose. They travel elsewhere, up your jaw, behind your ear, then down your hairline, before coming back to where she started. You feel her take in deeper breaths and plant a kiss.

Your hum of approval is all she needs to commit a dozen similar treatments to the area. Instinct speaks to you, forcing you to thrust a bit harder. The act shifts your position a bit and you’re forced to hold it tensely as you throb deep in her body. Dash recovers quicker than you and takes the opportunity to wander her curious nose closer to your armpit.

When you can finally relax, you sink back into her and get startled by her relatively cold nose in your ticklish area. She pulls back and snorts before carefully probing back into it.

Her appetite for your scent was something you’d grown accustomed to. At first, it made you a bit self-conscious, but it soon became clear that scent was a staple of intimacy for her. She seemed to enjoy you regardless of how presentable you felt, so you figured there was nothing wrong. Now, you just let her access to whatever she needed to get off; it was still a bit strange, but equally fulfilling. Not to mention you do the same thing with her.

You grasp her hoof and hold it above your head, sweaty palms force her frogs to clam up.

Dash’s nose dances around your arm pit—tickling your curly hair a bit before she licks you.

“Haha!”

Laughter only makes her do it again, and again, and again, drifting farther in until all your ticklishness was routed out by her interest. Rather than satiate her, your scent seems to wind her up more. Her ministrations become more erratic as she bounces between nibbling on your skin and wetting your sensitive pit.

You chuckle at the sensations and bury your face in her mane to get your own fill of your partner.

Hip movements keep their pace but become more exaggerated as you near your limit. Dash, meanwhile, nibbles on your earlobe and sprawls her tongue out on the backside. For some reason that feels really good and she senses it. Ear nibbling continues as the texture of her canal becomes more intense.

Your hands move to brace her face so you can kiss it and before you know it, your climax is upon you. Dash finds your lips, knowing you can’t; her wet kiss and the message it conveys lifts a mental filter to make your ensuing experience more vivid. You push into her mouth as you erupt in the bottom of her canal. Her legs kick and her abdomen flexes as a warmth coats her cervix in succinct spurts. You kiss harder and squeeze out one final victory drop before regaining your senses.

Dash’s eyes greet yours with an indescribable softness that somehow said you were the center of her world. In that moment, you realize that love is far too limiting a word to describe what you feel for each other.

You needed each other like you needed oxygen and water. Kisses are your air, and touch is your nourishment.

Soft smiles and caring looks were the lifeblood your hearts beat for.

Despite all your conditioned inhibitions, you knew deep down that there was no such thing as shame because your body was hers and hers was yours. A sloppy kiss or a messy finish was nothing more than an expression of that underlying connection, and thus, the pleasant sensations were welcomed with no aversion for their outcome.

Your pegasus tends to you with licks and nuzzles while you recover.

For the time being, you’re content to stay there. Your member soaks in its own brimming pocket of pegasus love juices and hormones, undoubtedly sharing the secrets of it’s biology with its surroundings. You caress your mare’s flushed cheek.

“You’re the color of my world Rainbow Dash.”

The words weren’t rehearsed or memorized, they didn’t even cross your mind before you spoke them.

Dash’s eyes start to quake and water, and you continue caressing her until she manages to fight them off. You lay like that for a while, and when the time comes to part ways, you do so reluctantly and with the promise to return.

Your well-mated pegasus gets up with you and silently preps the small area you'll both spend the night in. Everything else can wait until morning, everything except…”One sec.”

“Where are you going?” Dash asks with genuine concern and shakily stands.

“Just doing this.” You flip a switch on the wall and the fireplace adjacent to your bed crackles to life.

The worry in her eyes dissipates with each step you take towards her, but she doesn’t stop reaching for you until her foreleg is around you. You crawl under the sheets with her and flick off the lamp.

Orange flickers battle the shadows as a very content pegasus mare scoots as close as she physically can to you, and then some. You ignore the glistening wet spots by your feet, as well as the dribbling trail that led up her side of the covers.

You wrap your arms around your mate and meet her lips in a final goodnight kiss that lasts for at least a minute. Then, you bury your face in her mane and her muzzle finds the base of your neck. Wind howls in the dark and the building creaks a bit, but you couldn’t feel safer or more secure.

Two fuzzy lips kiss your chest before Dash falls into rhythmic breathing, "I know I say this a lot but, I couldn't love anypony else, Anon."

You squeeze her tighter and your heart stutters, "Oh Rainbow, you could never say it enough.”

Gusts of wind howl outside and the building around you creaks softly from the pressure, but nothing can stir you. Even dreams avoid you for a while.

At least, until something disturbs your slumber.

Firelight and shadows flicker silently across the room. The mare in your arms had seemingly accepted her position as the little spoon. Why is it so early? The clock is difficult to make out, but it sure looks like the little hand is on the two.

And why does your hand feel wet? Just as the question crosses your mind you feel something brush past your index finger, something you're familiar with but haven't felt from this angle before. That's a first. You knew she liked your hands but she'd never suckled on your fingers before.

Lucidity brings the wherewithal to detect small movements and sounds that tell you she's awake, “Dash?” You croak out, obviously much groggier than her.

Instead of a response she draws in a few sharp breaths and sucks down on your index finger. Her up-facing wing presses against your arm but said arm is being held tightly to her chest by a strong hoof, keeping her wing caged and your hand accessible.

Must still be asleep. You conclude in a haze before closing your eyes again. It was a bit strange but not altogether unpleasant. The room is a lot spicier than before and the front of your chest feels drenched. You try to ignore it and pursue sleep, but other distractions keep you awake.

Fabric rustles, the pony fidgets, and somewhere, a faucet drips.

plip....plop....plop

Your thoughts return to the excitements morning held in store. One of the rooms you and Dash snooped around in had some glass panes in storage, maybe you could use those to fix the window. Your fingers curl through her fur and cheek idly.

plap..plip..shlick

Need to fix that faucet too. If it keeps dripping at this rate it'll be a steady stream by morning. Your bed mate's breathing quickens not unlike what happens when she dreams. Your face is already resting against her mane so it takes little effort to give her a soothing nuzzle. It doesn't seem to work.

slick plop squelch

Wait...that can't be the faucet you closed the—

"—Mmmm..."

The noises stop and you're left in silence to contemplate the distinct overtone that groan possessed. Dash's legs push yours out of the way as she squeezes them together. The stretch lasts for a bit but it settles her down and you finally find some peace.

The world fades away but your subconscious pesters you, insisting that something's amiss. It was like knowing you lost something but not knowing what specifically is missing. You entertain the feeling for a bit until even that slips away. Nothing is left but warmth and that sweet, spicy aroma.

Why would the faucets leak in a five star resort?

Your brain protests but can't resist turning on to solve the problem. The covers rustle and a second slick hoof holds your arm, "Rainbow?" You croak.

Your finger leaves her mouth and she turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see her cheeks are flushed; locks of mane stick to her matted fur in wavy lines. Sweat permeates her cyan coat and glitters like a field of fireflies blinking against the evening sky. She licks her nose to get rid of a ticklish droplet—leaving it even more glittery in the orange light.

"Hey stud." She whispers.

You do your best to ignore the seldom used nickname, "Are you too hot?"

"Heh, probably."

On the very edges of her silhouette you swear you can see steam lit by a halo of light, wafting off her damp body in wispy curls. She is too hot. "Do you want me to turn off the—"

—smooch

Her kiss tastes as sweet as it feels, and it makes you want to drown in the sensation, "Why are you up so late?"

"I...should be asking you that."

Her eyes study your face, "I was thinking about you."

"Oh..."

Her hooves take hold of your hands, "I wasn't trying to wake you up, but...since you're up now...I think you could help." Her scratchy voice is even cuter when she whispers.

Your lethargic brain is doing a poor job of keeping up, "With what?" You mutter, eyes on the brink of shutting.

She bites her lip and lifts her leg with a squelch; clear juices span between her inner thighs and catch the light, making the quivering mare goo sparkle and glisten, "There's only so much my imagination can do."

No alarm or natural disaster could've woken you up as quickly as the sight that lay across from you and the dawning understanding of what you'd just unknowingly witnessed. Her wing is slowly unfurling from sheer anticipation and the furthest thing from your mind is the ungodly hour that this is taking place, "S-so you want to—"

"—Just lay back." A forehoof holds you against the pillow as she mounts you and meets your grin with a bigger one of her own.

Your trusty pistol was locked and loaded; it seemed to have a better understanding of the situation to begin with, "Do you need me to—"

She shushes you with her sticky forehoof and the pheromone-laden scent of her secretions put your mind in a haze, "Thanks but I just hoofed myself for the past hour, I think I'm good." She smirks, then leans back. Tassels of lubricant tease your member and cling to its surface until she's all but upon you.

The moment you touch her soft, hot flesh she groans so loudly you momentarily panic until you realize you have no neighbors to worry about. Even if you had reason to worry it would've been short lived because Dash's slick vulva bare down on your prostrate member as her legs clench around you and her clitoris pops out to tickle the underside of your very tip. The contact triggers her to start grinding as she tackles the overwhelming need to feel her mate's penis all over her marehood.

“Aaaagh...yeah!” She cries and lets out a sigh of relief.

Hands move to her damp thighs and help her stay rooted. The spice of her sweating body overwhelms you with its potency—even stronger than after a day at Wonderbolts practice. Her torso falls against yours, the hot room is made even hotter by her radiating presence. Twitchy wings jerk from excitement as you explore their base and you make the mistake of turning to look.

A hoof gently but firmly faces you back towards Dash’s muzzle, which predictably exacts its due attention. Her sweetness is much stronger than before and controlled kisses turn into raw licking as she discovers something seemingly crucial to survival. The more of her mouth you taste, the more of her taste you need to feel satisfied, and the more you surrender yourself to her encompassing drive.

Dash breaks with a smack and blasts you with her labored breathing. Saliva drips from her soaked muzzle onto your chin. She licks up her mess and gives you another sopping smooch before moving her already panting muzzle under your ear.

Hot pegasus sweat soaks your hands as you massage her withers and wingpits. Moisture from her lightly furred skin accumulates on your fingers and runs down the palm of your hand. Her wing pits were very porous and contained far more sweat glands than average; they needed to sweat profusely to cool off the pegasus’ toiling flight muscles in the calmer slipstream she created at high speed. The same moisture tickles your earlobe while her nose presses into your hair to draw in your scent. Heat, friction, and moisture from your enthusiastic mare effectively paralyze you with pleasure. Before your hands can massage up to her neck, forelegs snag them and pin them to the bed. A readjustment gives you a glimpse of Dash's desperate, glassy eyes and you know at once that you're both at the mercy of her estrus.

Warm tongue slides up the side of your neck and the pegasus moans, flexing and winking as if your taste itself was pleasant to her.

Furry hips slide erratically beneath a pinned back chromatic tail and fill the room with the sound of a well lubricated crotch being lubricated further. Dash winks mid-hump and you feel her muscled button smear more fluid across your spongy underside. She catches her breath and legs shake as she loses her strength.

She goes limp against you; hips move at a shallower angle to slide her clitoris on your shaft. Jerky cyan legs splay out beside you as she roughly pulls back her clitoral hood on your member to expose her most nerve-dense region to yours. The long fur of her pubic area alternates between sticking to her lips and your slicked shaft, the ticklish sensation complements the silky feel of her naked skin as well as the errant tail fibers that graze your legs with every thrust.

Everything about her is incredible; not only the fact of who she was and what she was doing to you, but also the thought that she'd brought you out to this secluded spot so she could continue to do what she was currently doing as much as she wanted.

“Aaagh!”

You reach out and pull her drooling lips into a kiss but she doesn't slow. Her leaking genitals grinding against yours is quickly becoming too much to take but you don't fear release. The flagrant rubbing coaxes a tingle from your pelvis...then a longer one.

Damp mane tickles your face and you feel her wet, fuzzy lips readjust as she hooks your neck to drive her tongue inside your mouth. That was the last straw that nudges you over the smooth crest of climax.

In the very next moment Dash adjusts her hips and takes you to the hilt in one slick motion. Her swollen vulva feel like two hot and doughy pillows that eagerly fill around your form to suck you in like the long lost piece to her puzzle. The gentle hill quickly becomes a rocky precipice that engulfs you in violent descent.

Your mare feels your cry of joy around her slick tongue and she presses against you even harder. Teeth touch and her orgasm develops—a positive feedback loop of squeezes and tugs that got exponentially more intense with each failed attempt to close up around your hard intrusion. Her depths get flooded with the gift she'd asked for and her hooves hold your arms above your head while she pushes you along with her kiss and pulls you along with her clenching glutes and canal. Every bit of her, from the texture of her innards and the taste buds on her tongue to the sweet aroma of her breath becomes more defined as your bodies do the utmost to make each other feel more incredible.

Her space is filled and excess squeezes out to run down your twitching scrotum. The wet pop of an air bubble being displaced by your load signals the end of the finale.

Dash lets you breathe and you take advantage of it, “*gasp…Oh Rainbow!’’

She snickers as she recovers from the sensation of your still throbbing addition to her anatomy, “Heh, thought you might like that.” Her hips circle idly on yours and her tongue cleans her lips. Her cheeks are rosy as she reaches down to draw some pasty wetness from the base of your rooted member past her puffy mound. Her hoof tip smears your escaped product in a glossy, matted line between her teats but her ardent gaze never leaves yours.

Dear Celestia...

Chests draw heavy breaths against one another and her fore hooves lay comfortably on your shoulders, "So...*huff...did I help?"

White teeth framed in a cocky grin is enough of an answer, "Eh, you sorta just sat there and let me get us off."

"Hey now that's your fault. You look better now at least." The realization was directed towards yourself, but she responds.

"Well you see...the uh, the jizz...helps." You peek down at her and you catch her staring at you with dilated irises, tucked ears, and the most flustered look you’ve seen since you’d caught her digging through your hamper last Tuesday.

"Really?"

She nods.

"How does that even work?"

Dash shrugs, and her embarrassment returns in the absence of a ravenous libido, "I dunno. It feels like it sorta...s-soaks in and makes the tingling stop."

"That is cool." You poke her nose but her smiling eyes never leave yours.

"Pffft! I thought it's hot but I guess it's just cuz I have all this fur."

A cheesy grin grows on her face while you unravel her multi-layered joke. She giggles when you give her a disappointed look, "You know, if you crack another horrible pun the next time we rut I might just call it quits and go home."

She snickers, "You wouldn't make it past the door."

"No?"

"Heheheh..." She nuzzles your nose and chases your lips, "...I'm gonna hide all your clothes."

"You wouldn't dare—mmm..." Her kiss catches up.

"Heh, would too!" She pushes off your chest and sits up; her tail pulls away from your sloppy connection.

"But I'd freeze without them."

"Then I guess you'll just have to-ngh!" A squelch and tremor interrupts her as she starts to move, "...stay close to me."

She leans back and braces a hoof on your belly. Hips rock back and forth to test the position, and you feel your head push past some distinctly fatter wrinkles a few inches in. It seems as if it didn't quite help enough.

“Aahaagh!”

Her pink clitoris pushes out to tell you she found what she was looking for. Your injection may have numbed her symptoms for the time being, but there were many forces at play not all of which were so easily tamed.

Cyan colors flick across your legs as your pegasus begins to ride you with all her might. Pasty white cum coats her lips as it leaks down your shaft in long, milky trails—its pallor diluted by her her own clear fluid. The living lubrication make the more aggressive angle she’s taking you at nearly effortless and very loud.

Though you were still a bit numb, the pleasureful grunts and moans of your partner made you realize how much of sex was mental. You very quickly find yourself thrusting up to meet Dash’s pelvis; the reward of seeing her open mouthed grin of satisfaction was so great that you don’t realize the feeling isn’t coming from your crotch.

Dash on the other hand, has more than enough stamina to keep herself entertained. Her normally random winking patterns started to coincide with every thrust, and each time she forces you past her thick wrinkles she grits her teeth a little bit harder. Her powerful hind legs lock her in place on your midsection and despite her being half your weight, she completely immobilizes you.

At first take, you were surprised at how submissive the competitive, type-A pegasus could be. In the first dozen times you were intimate she never once tried to take the lead, except sometimes to initiate; when she finally did show some boldness, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do and ended up feeling more embarrassed than empowered. The only reason she’d tried since is because she trusted you enough to admit she was uncertain, and she knew you passed no judgement if her tepidness and inexperience showed. You never expected it coming from the natural leader, but you held those moments close to your heart and did your best to facilitate her impetus when it arose. Much like it was doing now.

Her movements become more deliberate and you feel muscles throbbing behind her g-spot as you grind past them. By now you’d gotten back most of your sensation, and you were thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her exceedingly moist hole.

Dash leans back and plants her forehooves beside your legs as she gets closer to the finish line. Her pelvis curls into yours at the perfect angle to get the job done. The toned musculature of her abdomen flexes naturally with the movement and keeps her belly taunt above her bulging teats. The small mounds giggle with each hump; pinpricks of glistening sweat pierce her sea of fur and accentuate her hard, hairless nipples. You sense you’re being watched and look over to see her looking at you past locks of sweaty orange hair; she’s putting on this show for you.

You show your appreciation by groping a handful of damp teat; despite their petiteness, they’re the perfect consistency, and you much prefer them where they’re at. A nipple tweak coincides with a powerful shudder from the pegasus.

“Gaaah! Don’t move!”

Her downward thrusts get more precise as she uses your rock hard chisel to rub against the short region a few inches in. From this position it looks like her semen-coated clitoris is begging for your attention. You can’t resist.

You pop your index finger in your mouth before guiding towards her nethers. Dash watches it with folded ears and flexes extra hard to bare her nub for your touch.

“Ngaaah!”

Gently circling the creamy pearl gets the reaction you’re looking for. Delicate movements suddenly stop and she sits down hard. Wings stretch and pulse as her feathers ripple with the premonition of release; it occurs to you that you can hear her feathers sliding apart from each other in the absence of her labored breathing.

Then, she cums.

Her tunnel contracts as if feeling you for the first time, and if she squirted it was impossible to tell amidst the plethora of juices she'd been oozing thus far. You can't help but feel a little guilty at not being able to reward her uncontrollable milking a second time, but only a bit, the added lucidity made it easier to keep her going for longer.

You know she's finished when her hooves release their death grip on you. Two fiery pink eyes look down at you and she slurps before she drools again.

Wow…Your partner stays still on top of you. The layer of musk she’d rubbed around glows orange in the firelight. She focuses on catching her breath and leaves you to gawk at the erotic art she'd become. Winks keep your eyes glued to an incredibly beautiful part of her anatomy, “That was…hot.”

The prismatic pegasus chuckles back to life, leaning forward, she collapses into your waiting arms. She feels like a furry heating pad that’d just gotten out of the shower; it makes you hold her tighter, “Heheh…*huff…that’s why it’s called heat…*huff.”

A droplet of sweat tickles her nose and you lick it off for her. Salty.

She continues to catch her breath and in the silence you start to realize just how spent she was. Not a single muscle on her body did anything to support her weight. Long strands of her mane stick to beads of sweat on your own face. You swipe away the ticklish ones and leave the rest.

You were still a bit worked up, but if your mare was calm then you didn’t want to stir things up again. With your bedmate satiated, sleep becomes your main drive. Dash, and the puddle of love slowly spreading out from you are the only things on your mind as you close your eyes. You hold onto her petite frame and pull up the blankets around you, trapping your mate and her precious humidity in with you. You tuck your face into her mane and sigh; her pungent coital smells made it a bit stuffy. This is perfect.

Being chest-to-chest with an excessively sweaty, smelly, affectionate mare was much more relaxing than you expected it to be. Once you got over the immediate discomfort of soaking your sheets in more ways than one, it was thoroughly enjoyable. Almost like a sauna...of pegasus.

The furry lump on top of your chest stirs, "Hey Anon?" Her winking resumes with vigor and you notice her wings are still suspending the sheets, "You up for round two?"

You peek down at her. How does she not look tired?

She closes her hind legs, grinding them together in an effort to curb the returning tingle. It also squeezes you roughly against her cushy walls.

This heat’s going to be a little bit more work than you thought it’d be.

Lazy dust floats through the beams of sunlight piercing the curtains; songbirds chirp in chorus with a lone mourning dove and melting snow patters onto the patio outside your door.

“Mmmm…” Dash’s lethargic groan fits in with the music of a sunny winter morning.

You lay in each other’s grasp, turned inwards, her sticky, spit stained muzzle resting alongside your nose, your legs positioned to hold your hips together. Bedsheets strew around you in a mangled, wet mess, complimenting your bed mate’s equally unruly mane and tail.

Matted cyan fur fills between your fingers as you grasp her close, a layer of dried sweat helps your wandering hands form lasting impressions in her hair.

“Mmmh…” She moans quietly.

You find the strength to kiss her hot cheek.

Orgasm after incredible orgasm left your minds reeling with dopamine release; time melded together into one savory but indistinct memory that struggles to get filed properly amidst the sea of endorphins saturating your brain. You feel her muscles strain at the bottom of her canal; her hooves squeeze you harder and lets out a very guttural groan.

'One more round' evolved into a night’s worth of trading climaxes back and forth, chasing the elusive sensation of calm your ejaculate carried. It created a vicious cycle that teased her with empty promise of relief, prompting further desperate efforts.

Being buried in her body for the better part of the night had taught you some things as well; mainly it’d given you a new appreciation for her complexity. You'd come to understand the distinct locations that set her off; starting from her wings, down to her pearl, then in towards her g-spot, and finally the very bottom of her tunnel; the more superficial they were, the more fleeting the bliss, but the easier to work up to.

Exhaustion had forced you to abandon the laboring task of thrusting, opting instead to slowly grind. It was because of this laziness that you'd discovered the last of her possible tip offs—one which you expected to go off again any moment now.

The athlete’s exhausted wing stretches back to full span despite her muscles being completely spent. The appendage twitches as you hold onto it for leverage. The bottom of her canal lacked the nerve density to benefit from friction, but pressure and kisses seemed to get the job done.

The preeminent pulses at the bottom of her hole spread farther in rather than closer to her entrance. The narrow, firm ring of her cervix puckers against your tip, and her abs clench as if rocked by laughter.

“Haaah…”

She curls into you as the contraction knocks the wind out of her. You squeeze her tighter and strain to push into her deeper as her cervix becomes more active. Her clitoris stops winking and remains exposed as the very end of her tunnel collapses around your spongy glans.

Her abs shudder.

“Atta girl...almost there.” You breathe into her open maw.

The pegasus grips you tightly as her brain tries to sweep away her senses. Her deep contractions pick up pace and she whimpers as her whole body starts to tremble. Finally, she catches her breath; you push her hips into yours by the scruff of her rump and mimic the grinding motion you know she would do if she had the strength.

“Nh!”

In an instant her whole canal pulses with one long contraction, filling the calm room with the sounds of slick undulation. The sheets stretch under her hooves as pure ecstasy spreads throughout her belly. Her cervix dilates, knowing from experience that it can trust you with an exposed womb.

The breathless pegasus struggles stay open, waiting for you to put an end to her torture by taking advantage of the rarely achieved breeding geometry. Luckily, she doesn’t have to wait long. A short reflection on your situation coaxes out the last of a few stubborn loads. The feelling forces you deeper, and Dash’s engorged vulva, having already swallowed your complete length, mush like heated marshmallows against your crotch.

The world around you distorts, colors become more vibrant, scents become richer, and your mare feels like an angel granting you a glimpse of heaven. You plug her hole just in time to spill your small donation of watery seed over the doorway to her womb which flexes with renewed strength after receiving your reward. The feeling of your ticklish finale crawling down the wall of her sex organ sustains her own and you both ride the waves of bliss far past previous boundaries. You find a breath somewhere in-between spasms and pull her tighter; the empty contractions served no purpose other than to bring you pleasure. Pituitary glands inundate your blood streams with their last reserves of endorphins in a desperate measure to finally satiate your unnaturally powerful desire to mate.

It's conclusion comes with a healthy dose of relief; the room stops spinning and you find yourself able to take a much needed breath.

Dash’s droopy eyelids stay out of the way enough for her dilated magenta irises to thank you. Her quest was finally over, the stars had aligned to allow you to conquer the world-class athlete's estrus-laden libido. You can’t help but feel proud. It’s a feat to do that when she’s not in heat.

You watch with amusement as her expression changes almost imperceptibly. The mixture of chemicals and proteins you’d given her permeate through her walls and seep into her bloodstream—spreading a fulfilling warmth from her abdomen out through the rest of her.

Obviously high off the feeling, she cracks a grin and giggles at you. It was almost like life was rewarding her for taking the risk of loving something so different.

“Heheh! I can’t feel my hooooves.” Dash slurs while wiggling her hind legs.

Her mischievous, happy smile is contagious, “You have no one but yourself to blame.”

“Nooo silly…it’s cuz of you.” She pushes on you playfully before hugging you tighter and licking your neck.

She is out of it. “I don’t know. This heat stuff is a bit suspicious-pthp!” You pull away from her wandering tongue and free your lips to speak, “For all I know you could be making all this up just to make me sorry for you.”

Her smile grows, “Aww nooo you foiled my plans!” She stretches and yawns before snapping her head back and bonking your head, “Oof! Sorry.” She atones with an equally uncoordinated kiss.

You rub her forehead and she smiles contently, “Even if you are I guess I’m ok with that.”

“Hehehe, good. Cuz otherwise I’ll have to kidnap you.”

“Oh...”

She hums into your chest and hugs you, “Hey, Anon?”

“Yeah.”

“I gotta pee.”

“…Ok.”

“Bad.”

“Are you sure it’s not—“

“—I know what having to pee feels like."

“So…maybe you should head to the bathroom?”

She blinks as she tries to focus on you. Her cheeks are flushed, but you can’t tell if its from embarrassment or exercise, “I’m not sure if I can walk.” She smirks.

Oh. The implications are apparent.

“It’s your fault ya know.”

You sigh at the giggling mare, “Alright.”

You slowly pull out of her for the first time since you’d woken up almost five hours ago. The relatively cool air grabs your attention as you leave the protection of her warmth and you share a blush as the incredible mess briefly takes the spotlight.

Dash was less than thrilled with the change but still manages to giggle when you clutch her to your chest and make your way to the facilities. Your legs are actually shaky. Is this what she feels too?

The mare watches the scenery go by until you set her down on the toilet, pulling her tail out of the way beforehand. The moment you stop supporting her she starts tipping over. Wings half flare and hooves paw at the wall but it’s too far away for her to catch herself. You rush back and catch her just in time and she flashes an apologetic smile, “Heh, thanks.”

You stabilize her and leave again, but just as you close the door you hear a crash. Rushing back in you see Dash prostrate on the floor, struggling to get up, “Oh Dash! I’m so sorry!”

She rubs her chin and grunts, “Nah, it’s my fault.” Slowly you pick her up and replace her, rubbing her chin out of concern. She really is numb.

Timid eyes find yours, “Maybe…” her voice wavers, “…you could h-hold my hoof?” She looks up and winces as if expecting dismissal.

The suggestion catches you off-guard, but it's far from off-putting. It was quite obvious she was extending the bounds of her trust and you weren't about to turn that away, “Um, sure.”

You take hold of her hoof. The bathroom was too open to really give her any privacy and she keeps her eyes on you to make sure you weren’t having any second guesses, “Go ahead.” You nod and stare at the wall. Her hoof pulls on you momentarily while she catches her balance. You squeeze it harder for reassurance. After a few seconds you hear a weak trickle, then nothing.

“Wow, you made me get out of bed for that?” You try and lighten the mood.

She snorts, “Heh, just gimme a sec.” The joke did its job of relaxing her and she manages to relieve herself without any further hiccups. When she’s finished you break off a few squares of toilet paper and hold them out. A second invisible hoof snags them and the toilet flushes.

You take that as your cue to pick her back up and carry her to the sink. After washing your hands and hooves you collapse back on the bed.

“Thanks.”

Dash’s fiery red cheeks were starting to cool, but you rewarm them with a peck of affection, “Anytime, Dash.”

At any other time you’d feel unworthy and out of your league. But such thoughts were forbidden now that you realized how much it hurt her to think them. Instead, you channeled that into guilt; guilt that you were far too jealous to share any of your precious mare with the rest of the world.

She settles down and you smile, “So…is it ok if I get some sleep now?”

“Heh, I told ya that like hours ago.”

“Yeah, but I would’ve missed out on staying up and watching you make faces at me.”

She catches your smile, “What faces?”

“The ones where you go like…” You proceed to make your best impression of her sex face by crossing your eyes and hanging your tongue out of the corner of your mouth.

“Hehe quit it…I don’t look like that!” She bats weakly at you with a fore hoof.

You kiss her nose to steal her thunder, she snorts and smirks, “No, you look better than that…you cutie.”

“Nooo-mmm not a cute.” She slurs as she playfully avoids further attempts to kiss her nose. She finally lets you land one and you relax back into the pillow, fingers clear some yellow hair from her brow.

Her eyes linger longingly on yours, “You make funny faces too, kinda like you got an ice cream headache or something.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, I kinda like ‘em.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

She looks like she wasn’t expecting that question, “Cuz I…I don’t know. It’s just fun to make you…f-feel that.” She gulps and scratches her chest nervously.

“You know what?” She peeks up at you and perks an ear, “I think I’m not the only one who reads romance novels.”

“Anooon!” She blushes and tries to hit your shoulder but she couldn’t bring herself to violence against you even if it was just play. Her shaky hoof looks like its fighting her and eventually rests gently on your arm, “I don’t read mushy books.” She pouts.

You take hold of her hoof and kiss it, “I know. That’s what makes it all the more special because it came from here.” You poke her chest and she looks innocently at you for a moment until she gets it.

Her eyes widen and her ears fold submissively. Her upper lip quakes a she starts to tear up; you pull her into a hug—hiding her face in your neck so she didn’t have to injure her reputation any further.

“And for the record you are a cute.”

She clings tightly to you for a few tender minutes, taking solace in the beating of your heart and the warmth of your skin. It was satisfaction enough just to feel each other alive. She felt more comfortable knowing you couldn’t see her emotions, even if was obvious what was happening.

Birds continue to chirp and your lungs take long, relaxed draws from the sweet, musty air. Finally Dash feels brave enough to leave her hiding spot. Her puffy eyes avoid yours and she sniffles.

“Sit tight, I’m going to make us some breakfast.” You leave her with a kiss on the brow; Dash’s feather pendant gets replaced around your neck.

“You’re gonna leave?” She asks, her expression heartbroken.

You hold her hoof and meet her eye level, “Hey, it’s alright...I’m just headed to the kitchen for a few minutes, promise.”

Her eyes shift around and her hind legs kick a bit. She realizes she’s still paralyzed, “Promise?”

It sounded like a bit of a childish concern, but at the moment, it didn't seem that way to her, “Of course. I’ll spend the rest of the day with you, never leave your side.”

That seems to do the trick and she lets you go; her eyes follow you until you’re out the door.

Fresh air sobers you up as you set up the kitchen. The room was bigger than you initially thought, and the attached kitchen was bigger than your own. You knew what you wanted to make, but finding all the ingredients takes some time. Locating the proper cookware takes even longer.

Suddenly, you hear a thud in the hallway. A moment later uncoordinated hoof steps grow in pace, “Anon hold on! Wait!” The voice bellowing down the hall actually startles you.

You freeze where you’re at as the clopping monster hones in. A mangy pegasus barrels around the corner but trips up when she sees you. Dash sprawls on the ground as her legs give out—carried across the hardwood floor by her own momentum. After a dozen feet her sticky belly fur drags her to a screeching halt.

“Don’t open the fridge!”

“Huh?”

She makes no effort to move, her legs remain spread-eagle, “Don’t open it!”

“But I need to get some milk for the—“

“—No! We don’t need it.”

“Why?”

She looks away trying to mask the truth, “Just. Trust me on this.”

Any other time you'd argue but right now you're too tired to care. “If you say so.” You toss your hands up in surrender before walking over and picking her up. She feels like a rag doll, “Let’s get you back to the…” She grips tighter and shoots you a panicked look. Geez, you’d think you were about to return her to an orphanage or something.

“Alright, just keep your tail off the counter.”

Her muscles relax and smiles contently, “Heh, I’ll try.”

You finish making breakfast with the pegasus clinging to your chest. She wasn’t as light as she seemed after ten minutes standing, but it was welcome exercise.

The meal was a bit bland without any of the fresh goods you planned to serve, but seeing as how Dash tensed up every time you walked past the refrigerator for whatever reason you figure the trade off is worth it. She sat on your lap the whole time and made up for it with witty conversation.

You finish and head straight for the bathroom for a shower. After last night you feared Dash would leave puddles everywhere she sat but luckily that wasn’t the case.

The walk-in shower was in a corner surrounded by glass. There wasn’t much privacy, but there wasn’t much needed.

The pegasus takes two full towels to dry off and you take one; you still leave the room dryer than her.

From there you finish up some chores that needed to be done; she replaces the sheets while you arrange the closet. A half-hour later you collapse on the bed and fish for the note you left on your nightstand. Dash sits next to you—towering over you as you read.

Hello: Welcome to The Star Springs Mountain Getaway. Proudly owned by Luxury Accommodations, we hope you have a pleasant stay. Here are listed some rules of conduct, please abide by them at all times.

1. Keep windows/doors shut when not in use.
2. Supervise use of cookware and facilities.
3. Do not change heater settings, activate a fireplace if you would like more heat.
4. Do not move furniture.
5. Do not abuse furniture.
6. Do not tamper with janitor rooms or equipment.
7. Do not attach things to fans.
8. Place trash in approved trash bins to avoid run-ins with dangerous wildlife.
9. Hike on marked trails only and avoid signs that warn no entry.
10. Please do not rummage through employee facilities.

Following these rules with ensure a more satisfying stay with us, we thank you for your understanding and cooperation. If you have any additional questions you can contact our support technician, Curry Hotpot; his contact info is located on the telegramaphone in the lobby.

Additionally, we would like to inform you that you will be joined by a couple on Wednesday the 21st. They are platinum members who insisted on booking this week. We apologize for any inconveniences this may cause.

Sincerely, The Management

“Hey Dash it says here that there’s some more ponies coming this week.”

The mare had since gotten bored and laid down at the foot of the bed to play with your toes, but upon hearing the news she jerks, “What!”

“Yeah, some couple that ‘insisted on booking this week because they’re platinum members.’” You recant in a posh Canterlot accent.

“Why those...grrrrr! They said we had the whole thing to ourselves!” She fumes with her hooves around your foot—still fiddling with your toes. What’s so interesting about your digits?

You wiggle them against her frog to snag her attention, “Hey, it’s alright. I’m sure they’ll want space too. They’ll probably stay at the opposite end of the building.”

She sighs, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Her head thumps on the mattress, “But that means we can’t do the twenty rooms a day challenge.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh it’s nothing, just some stupid thing Fleet told me about. You gotta go around and rut in twenty different rooms each day and you win...or something.” She waves her hoof dramatically for emphasis.

Only twenty rooms per day? Only twenty rooms...what did you get yourself into? “Well, does it count if you do it twenty times in one room?”

Her eyes squint at the ceiling in concentration as she lays back down to pull your foot into her furry side, “Hmmm...nah it’s gotta be different rooms. It totally wouldn’t be that hard and it’d take like, three hours tops.”

You take a deep breath, “Dash, that’s kinda tough. You saw what last night did to you.”

“Pffft! That was longer and besides, I’m already feeling better. Just give me another hour and I’ll be able to go until dinner.”

You stare blankly at her as she stares at her hoof tracing your foot. After a few incredulous seconds she cracks a smirk and glances at you, “I’m kidding you oaf!”

Your laugh sounds more nervous than you intended, but either way you’re somewhat relieved...you’re not sure the general downstairs can handle another campaign at the moment.

“Obviously we’d have to break for lunch.”

“Huh?”

“Oh I know! We should go look through all the employee rooms and learn their secrets!”

You check the note again, “It says not to.”

Her smile grows.

Other than deliberately breaking the rules for several hours the rest of the day goes by uneventfully. You’d given her a piggyback ride the whole morning until she could walk, and now she was showing her gratitude by giving you a back massage as you lounge about digesting a late lunch.

“I had no idea this place was so big.” Dash quips.

“That’s why I don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about with the other ponies staying. We probably won’t even see them.”

“I know but it just won’t feel the same.”

“You mean now you'll have to double check before jumping me.”

“Heheh, yeah.”

Her hooves dig in between your shoulder blades, “Ahh perfect.”

“Right here?” She clarifies with a hoof.

You nod and she focuses her attention on the area, “That Wonderbolt’s poster in the rec room was pretty cool, you’re like their photo girl now.”

“Yeah it is pretty awesome. It’s kinda annoying that they always pull me out of training to take pictures and stuff; I don’t know why they always pick on me Fire Streak’s the show off.”

You know why. “Do they make you put on make up?” You jibe.

“Ha! They try but the most they can make me wear is that blue lip paint.”

“Lipstick?”

“Whatever. Besides, it so ridiculous! We’re supposed to be Equestria’s best who fly straight into danger. How are we supposed to do that if we spend an hour in front of the mirror making ourselves look like clowns!”

“Well I see you have a strong opinion on this.”

“It’s just dumb I can’t believe stallions like that.”

“I like your face fuzzy and pretty. Makeup would just ruin that.” She stays silent, “Though I have to admit the lipstick on the note you wrote was kinda nice.”

"You tricked me into that!" You're guilty so you can't deny it.

“Yeah, but it makes a cool memento.”

She continues massaging out your back in silence. Her hooves weren’t as bad as you first anticipated. The edges felt great pushing up your neck and shoulders, and she brought out her soft frogs for more painful knots. She finishes and sits back in the small of your back.

“What do you think about hitting one of the other pools?”

“I think we should take a nap after getting like three hours of sleep last night.”

“What? How can you be tired?”

“Uhh…is that a serious question?”

Dash just stares at you. Obviously it is, “Alright fine let me find my trunks.”

“No.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No clothes.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz it’s vacation! You’re always saying you wear them because you feel uncomfortable around other ponies, and now there’s no other ponies.”

She’s got you there, “They’re also for warmth, like fur.”

“You have fur.” She plucks at a leg hair to be annoying.

“Ow!”

“No more excuses come on!”

“But—"

“—Come on let’s go!”

Somehow she has enough energy to be out the door before you find your feet. You did squarely loose that argument, though you weren't sure how, and you didn't want to find out what would happen if you followed her in anything but your birthday suit.

With a grumble you scurry outside, bare feet slapping the cobblestone walkway with more purpose than you internalized. Nothing but silent scenery greets you; despite the uncomfortable climate you pause to see if she'd submerged in one of the pools.

*Thwack!

Cold chills pierce your thin facade of manliness as your naked belly catches a snowball. The reaction is delayed, it takes a few seconds to realize what'd happened and another to take a deep breath. "Aaaaaaaaah!"

Dash peeks out from the corner of the building but tucks back when you finish your death cry. You clutch your red stomach and fight off the chills. "Oh your plot is mine now you pesky bird pony!"

Just enough of her smirking muzzle sticks out to taunt you, "Tell me something I don't know!"

"You little—" She breaks cover and tosses another snowball which you narrowly avoid.

Laughter teases you until she slips on some ice loosing her footing and more importantly valuable distance. Panicked eyes look up to see you barreling towards her and her flight response kicks in just in time for you to tackle her out of the air and carry her ten feet into the deep end of the pool. Both bodies splash down in refreshingly hot water but she kicks free and starts doggy paddling to the side in hopes of escape. Luckily, you had a distinct advantage in the water and pull her back by the tail just as her hoof tips grasp at the ledge.

Much to your surprise she completely freezes when you give her a gentle pull and floats backwards on the water, her features frozen in what can only be godly fear. The suspended mare looks more like a puddle of feathers and hair in the water as she slowly spins around from the momentum of your tug. Wide eyes greet yours but her expression isn't quite fear, which is fitting. You're a merciful creature.

She stares awkwardly at your disappointing gaze until a ticklish drop forces her to squint and snort. Her eyes open back up and she grows a genuine smile. "Hey!"

No amount of transgression could prevent your countenance from changing in response to that innocent smile. A chuckle escapes you as you boop her nose to halt her movement, "You're gonna get what's coming to you once you stop acting so cute."

Her brow furrows and she opens her mouth.

"—Ah! Don't you dare." She closes her mouth and paddles over to the submerged ledge you move to. "So...what else is on your mind besides giving me hypothermia."

She snickers and slides over, her wing hugs your back in a protective gesture she remained unaware of. "Well, I guess I was thinking about the last time we were in the pool."

Her smile tells you she's just fishing for a reaction.

You hide your grin, "What else?" Her eyes briefly look up to think, "Aside from sex—"

"—Last night!...Oh, ummm."

You snort and ruffle her wet mane after a few seconds of blank contemplation, "Hey I don't blame you, last night was pretty fun."

With the topic now a go she jumps back in quite enthusiastically, "It was awesome! I never knew I could finish like twenty times in a row! And my legs were-hehe, all jellowy afterwards!" She grins and lays back against the poolside as she relishes the recent memory.

"Huh, sounds like your partner's a helluva guy."

"Oh you have no idea. It's like when you finally get to scratch at that really bad itch and you just scratch and scratch and scratch until it's sore." She sighs with a soft smile and droopy eyes, only then does she check your inflated ego with a shoulder jab.

"Oh sorry I didn't mean to make you sore!" You offer worriedly.

She panics and offers a corrected statement, "Oh no no no it's a good sore! Believe me! No reason you shouldn't uh...keep it up." She blushes a bit at the inevitable eye contact.

"Well, if you say so. I suppose it's not too much of a chore."

"Heh! That's what I thought!"

You lay you arm behind her and enjoy the comfort of her simple company while studying the scenery.

“We always used to stretch in sauna after a rough show.” Dash explains as she stretches out her leg along the shelf beside you.

Your hands fight her hooves for a bit as you take over massaging her leg, “I always thought those things were refreshing.”

“Ahhh…” she sighs, “...yeah. Hey I think this place has one!”

“Really?”

She cranes her head around, “Yeah right over there!”

You follow her hoof, “Oh sure enough. Do you think it’s working?”

“It should be. All their other resorts have one somewhere so I figured this place would have one too.”

“That’s some pretty average figuring, you’d make a pretty average detective.”

The smart ass comment gets you splashed in the face, but you keep massaging her leg. You were no expert but you were experienced; not to mention just about anything you did felt amazing to the pegasus simply because you had hands instead of hooves, “If you want me to go easier let me know.”

“Nah it’s good.” She grunts.

“Don’t you have a masseuse for your team?”

“Well, sorta. The physical therapist takes appointments but if I’m sore I usually just go workout again to flush out the lactic acid.”

That’s hardcore. She grits her teeth again as you knead your way up her thigh, “You should probably think about booking with the therapist.”

“The rest of the team does, its just…”

“Just what?”

She peeks at you, “They get all touchy with their hooves.”

“Haha! That’s their job!”

“I know it’s just that I don’t want them touching my hooves and stuff...and those places always smell like lotion and fruity junk.”

You nod, “Well, you’ve got your own masseuse here if you ever need one.” You pick up her leg and pull it farther up your lap to massage its backside, “I’ll give you a discount too.”

She cracks a smirk, “Oh you mean I gotta pay you?”

“Of course.” You suppress your reactionary smile.

“How much are you going to charge me?” She teases.

“Hmm, I’d imagine my hands would make me more marketable. I’d say at least three and a half kisses per minute, for starters.”

Dash launches into you and fills your vision with her muzzle. Her kiss is modest but not reserved. The sticky texture of her warm lips tells you she's licked them in preparation, and it tickles a bit as they peel away. You meet her eyes just in time for the second smooch, and hold her gaze for the third, fourth, fifth, all the way until she’d finished a dozen or so kisses of varying length. You end much closer than you started—your chests rest against each other and her forelegs hang around your waist.

“Do you accept down payments?”

“S-sure.”

The mare snickers at your stutter, “Well come on I paid for some massages.”

“You know I’m not a vending machine that dishes out wingrubs and bellyrubs and...other rubs for kisses.” Despite your words you resume massaging her strong leg.

Her hoof hooks around the back of your head and mashes your lips into hers. Your heart skips a beat from the sensation of her pointed muzzle so affectionately nibbling on your mouth. She pulls away with an exaggerated smack and licks her lips with a grin, “Sure Anon, keep telling yourself that.”

Dash flips herself around in your grasp, settling her gorgeous yet probably quite tender butt into your lap and laying back against you, wings opened lazily floating around on the soothing water.

Your hands find their way to her sides and waste no time climbing up and down her perfect lithe frame, listening to her coo contently as you work out the soreness, numbness and rubberbandiness of her limbs when you venture along them.

Her head comes to rest under your chin and you can help but angle your nose down into it. Cheeks framed on either side by adorable fluffy blue ears; you get to work massaging her forelegs with nimble hands. They start in her leg pits and squeeze their way down to her petite hooves. You can’t help but give the tender frogs a little tickle before starting over. Dash snorts and pushes harder into your chest, her head arches back to ask for more attention and you playfully nibble on her ear.

“Heheh.” She pulls away once you’ve got it snugly between your teeth, enjoying the sensation of the lite bite stretching out her surprisingly sensitive cartilage. You let her go but she immediately leans back in to perk her ear against your lips, when you don’t bite she leans back further to press her objective. You take the bait.

It was a bit weird but it was something new she seemed to enjoy so you accept the fuzzy donation and softly gnaw on the root of her flexed fold. You hear a quiet grunt so you do it again before abating. For all the fur she had you were surprised how little of it fell out; in all your ventures you could count the errant hairs that got on your tongue on one hand. She said it’d get worse during molting, but for now she almost seemed hypoallergenic.

Her damp ear flicks against your cheek as she silently asks for more nibbles, you entertain her request by moving to the neglected ear and teasing at its base. Your nose pushes into her scalp as your lips dig into the crevice you normally scratch with your finger. It earns the usual huffs and grunts from her, but only when you bite her fur and gently tug does she physically shift into the sensation.

The tranquilizing petrichor of her wet mane fills your senses as you take deep breaths against her hot fur. You swirl your tongue around the area you just nibbled on before moving farther up the base of her ear. Her hair was a bit longer there as it was near her hoof ends and leg pits, and it made it easier to exercise the dormant nerves just underneath the surface of her skin. You take your time enjoying the task and when you’re finished you stop where you’re at to knead her muscular breast.

“Anon can you…” She flicks her spoiled ear into your cheek with an audible thwack. You get the message and continue nibbling. This time your focus shifts to massaging the thick juts of muscle on either side of her sternum.

The pegasus lays sprawled out in a tangled mess made possible only through the gravity-negating effects of the water. You feel a bit of movement and peek over her brow to see her hind leg kicking weakly. You pull her tighter to your chest a continue your gentle ministrations; she must’ve felt your smile around her scalp because she pipes up, “Don’t even think about saying it.” She mutters amid a plethora of soothing sensations.

You spit out her ear and smack your dry mouth, “Say what?”

“That I’m cute, or whatever.”

For some reason the snarky Dash-ism snaps you out of your haze and hits you with a ton of emotions. You press your cheek into her head and nuzzle into her matted ear crevice, “I wasn’t going to say that.” You whisper as you hug her tighter.

She catches her breath to keep her lungs from collapsing and throws her head back in protest of her interrupted attention. You relent and she exhales, she grinds her limp ear against your face, “Can you do that t-thing again with this one, right there—”

“—I love you Rainbow Dash.”

She pauses first, then peeks at you. Her forelegs protrude limply above your bear hug grasp. You crane your head over to meet her gaze better, and when you do so she tucks her ears.

“I love everything about you, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to snag you when I did.”

Now she blushes. Her eyes remain wide but don’t break contact, “I—*ahem!” Her voice cracks hard and she clears her throat. She takes the opportunity to reword her response, “M-me too!” She clears her throat again.

Despite being quite the showpony she wasn’t the smoothest romantic when put on the spot, but that made the confession all the more genuine and heart warming. You hum contently and nuzzle into the side of her face, “I know you love yourself too.”

She’s at a loss amidst the aggressive snuggling but slowly starts to gather her thoughts, “Anon, you idiot!” You interrupt her by pressing a kiss into her ear opening, making her twitch violently from the ticklish sensation, “That’s not what I meant!”

You nibble more on her ear hole for fun, her wings splash as she writhes away from the unbearably annoying feeling, “Oh? What did you mean?”

“Nice try Anon, you heard me the first time!”

“Maybe, but I want to hear it again.”

“Well...ngh! Too bad!” She wiggles away from more ticklish ear kisses.

You hold on tight, “Am I going to have to rut you until you wet the sheets again to get you to say it?”

“That’s not…” she bites her tongue but it’s too late.

“It’s not what? Were you going to say that didn’t happen? Because I can prove it to you, right here if you want—”

“—Nooo!” She smiles and tries to escape your ticklish fingers in her belly, “I was going to say that’s not how it works” She blurts. You stop teasing her and hold her where you can look into her eyes, “You have to wait for the right moment dummy.”

“Is that your romantic intuition is telling you?”

She blushes, “That’s just what...it’s just how it is.”

You smile, “Well when the next right moment comes up I’m holding you accountable.”

She squirms and giggles when you poke her chest. Finally content, you relax against the poolside and resume treating your pony’s overworked muscles.

“Hey Anon?”

“Hmm?

You feel her gulp and she takes a moment to respond, “Would you ever maybe sometime in the far future want to possibly uhh…have a foal?”

For a moment the only thing that fills your mind is the sound of gently rippling water and the strange feeling of Dash’s coarser tail hairs floating across your leg. Did she just…

Dash faces forward with her ears tucked, remaining completely limp against you as she anxiously tries to gauge your reaction without chancing a look back.

Dash wants to have a kid...with you? The pegasus on your chest had just opened herself up to a whole new level of commitment and you were at a loss on how to respond. Commitment was nothing new to her, she was committed to her friends, to the Wonderbolts, to you. But this on another level entirely. The flood of emotions running through you are almost indecipherable.

“I-if not then that’s cool too, I-I was just wondering—”

“—Yes!”

Her nervousness turn to excitement and she spins around, “You do?”

You look deep into her magenta eyes, “Rainbow, I would love for you to be the mother of my children.”

Her ears stare at you just as much as her eyes do. You can almost see her heart well up in her throat from excitement. Why is this so exciting? You never thought of being a parent as exciting!

“I-I mean, of course we’d have to get a new house and learn how to cook and, and I’d have to take some time off active status—”

“—Is that something that you’d want to do...with me, I mean?”

“Yeah! Of course! We're mates.” Her cheeks turn rosy, "I think you'd make an awesome dad."

She’s so confident in her response she manages to flatten your insecurities before they could form. An ear to ear grin grows on your face.

Dash’s smile grows to match yours. You never gave it much thought before now but you could start a family with her. You could start a family with Rainbow Dash. An elated laugh escapes your lungs.

No thought you could form could quantify the gratitude you feel towards her. This pegasus befriended you when you were alone and afraid, she stuck up for you like one of her own, she taught you how to laugh and love, she’d led you to see this place as your home, and now she was offering you a stake in it. A family.

You squeeze your mare close, cradling her head with utmost care and affection like she was the most precious thing in all of creation.

Because she is.

It was a bit surreal how far you’d come with your best friend, but at the same time it felt so right. You’d known your friendship was unique even in its infancy, and the progression towards romance was so easy and natural that in hindsight it was difficult to tell when you first began to openly love each other. And now, she’d given you further proof of the undying loyalty she’d confessed to you by the lakeside that night.

You can’t talk so you let the beat of your heart do it for you.

You both sit there for a minute as you slowly massage her neck; the soreness wasn’t a concern so much as the need to feel her and just know that she’s real.

You distinctly remember thinking a few weeks ago that there was no way you could feel more attached to her than you already did. You’d thought that several times in fact, and each time you were proven wrong.

As your adrenaline slows you get to think in greater detail, “I’d like to get settled into my job.”

“Yeah of course! I mean, it's not like I'm ready now.”

“Sure.”

“It'd be like...way in the future when I'm done performing and get promoted a lot more. But I do want to, with you.” Her tone is unwavering.

She stares at you until you smile, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just never really saw you being interested in something like this. That’s not to say I’m surprised or anything I mean, you’d make a great mom.”

“Heh, it’s ok dude. I get what you’re saying. You’re the first one I’ve really talked to about this...except my mom.” She adds, “Honestly I never really thought I wanted a foal either, I’ve always just wanted to be a Wonderbolt. But now that I am one…”

“...The best one.” You add

She smirks, “Heheh, now that I’m the awesomest Wonderbolt I guess I realized that there’s more to life than that.”

“I know that feeling." You rub her shoulder with a thumb as you hold her.

“I guess I’m just saying that I never gave it much thought because I didn’t have a reason to.” Her hoof traces your chest and nudges her feather pendant, “I know it sounds weird but I started thinking about it after I showed you that trick by the lake.”

You quirk a brow, “Really? What part of the wingjob told you I would make a good father?”

She blushes a bit, “No! It wasn’t that!”

You throw your hands up in defense before resuming her massage.

“Though it was a pretty good wingjob...” She snaps out of her daydream, “After that, you know, after Zephyr. I kept thinking about how you stood up for me and how we kinda make a good team. Cuz I mean, it wasn't the first time something like that happened.”

She grunts as you knead her neck, delicately massaging up her spine to her scalp, “Yeah, I guess we kinda get along.”

“Heheh, just a bit.” You kiss her ear for emphasis, “It kinda surprised me when I started having dreams about us...together. It wasn’t long after that I started thinking about what a family would be like.”

“Wow.” She really scoped you out.

“I-I mean it wasn’t like I was dreaming about breeding you against the wall while you pulled my wings...or anything.”

“Of course. I’m sure you had wholesome dreams.”

She gulps and nods, “But uhh...it was more like I felt open to being a mom after knowing you.”

“As long as we don’t go making any half pony half human things I think we should be good.”

She leans into your scratching finger, “Aw come on you’re not that ugly.”

“Hey!”

“Hahaha!”

“But in all seriousness I’m all for them inheriting your looks.”

Dash boops your nose, “Well, you’re nose is alright and your teeth are pretty cool.” She finishes by wiggling the edge of her hoof between your lips to pry at your canines.

"Pffft! Well I’m glad I have some redeeming qualities.”

Dash pushes her muzzle into your lips for a short kiss just to make sure you know she’s only teasing, “Our foal’s gonna be so awesome!”

You return the kiss, “Of course it’s going to be when you’re its mom.”

She tucks her ears and nuzzles your arm. Hands work down to massage the side of her face, “Jhus ghotta figur ouh how.” She manages with her cheeks smushed.

You work around her face to rub on the top of her muzzle, “I’m sure there’s some magical something or other that will make me compatible.”

“I know other couples have done it, I just never really wanted to know how.”

“My guess is a doctor puts a spell on my dick or something.”

“Or maybe you take a pill and rut me for like...days.”

“That sounds preferable.” The sensation of magic varied, but all of it felt pretty uncomfortable to you.

“Heheh, I hope it's that one.”

“Didn’t royalty used to marry to other races for treaties and stuff? Twilight might know something about it.”

“Eh, I’m pretty sure they cheated and used a donor which is not gonna happen.” The thought of it alone makes her squirm uncomfortably and she grips you tighter as her eyes dart around in the ensuing silence.

You lend some of your own strength to the squeeze, “Yeah.”

The cloud cover had descended and a light dusting of snow wafts silently across the landscape. You rely more on each other for warmth than you do the water.

“Dash, what if that’s the only way to do it?” She shifts to give you a perplexed look, “I mean, what if there’s no pill or spell or something? I am the only one of my kind you know.”

“What are you talking about dude?”

You sigh, “I just don’t know if I’m too different from you.”

She pauses to lend some serious thought to her response. Her eyes read your expression with the utmost care, even if her mind was made up she still had to console you, “Anon, listen. I’m not with you because I want to have foals, I’m with you because of you and your differences.” Her gaze falters but never fails, “I know foals are important to a lot of mares, but...I would’ve never even considered having one if it weren’t for you.” Her hoof hooks your neck; her expression is nothing but earnest, her voice is nothing but sure, “If we never have foals I’ll still be happy because you’re more than I can ask for already.”

Being the only human you know you’d come to consider yourself the definition of a man. From your toilet seat habits to your average, but improving build, you were a tough, independent and resourceful being. But right now, you realize how much of your self-image is a facade.

The colorful pegasus squeezing you tight, reassuring you, loving you, was what made you everything you considered yourself to be and more. You needed her more than you sometimes let on. A simple look had the power to break your heart or make it soar. Her playful banter could lighten up your day better than any weather manipulation, and her displays of loyalty and dedication made lasting impressions that would stick with you for the rest of your life.

A lone tear escapes the corner of your eye, adding insult to injury. You don’t know why that happened, you’re definitely not crying, you’re not even sad for pete’s sake!

Another one streams down your opposite cheek and you sniffle. Don’t do this in front of Dash!

But she doesn’t think any less of you, she doesn’t even look surprised. Her pretty face offers you a soft, supportive smile as she wipes away your tears with a forehoof.

She pulls your head into her wet chest and soothes you with her heartbeat. Tears disappear into her coat as you squeeze her like the last buoy afloat in the whole ocean.

“Besides, there’s no way I’m letting anypony else's gross jizz anywhere near me.”

The mood lightening comment does its job. You snort, “You didn’t seem to think it was gross last night?”

She doesn’t bat an eye though she blushes severely, “That’s because it’s coming from you.” Her free hoof pokes your shoulder for emphasis.

You finally pull away and wipe your eyes. That’s one way to put you on the top of the world. ”Heh, uh…” you look to the water, unable to form words.

Dash’s smile grows as she thinks of another way to boost your esteem, “You know, no other mare can feel as good as me during heat even if they do have a stallion.”

Your perplexed look prompts her further. Her hooves wander without restraint, cyan lips linger dangerously close to yours.

A nervous gulp pierces the silence as Dash’s eyes pierce yours, “Most mares hate heat because they have to be careful not to get pregnant.” Her muzzle leans closer to your ear, “But I get to feel what they don’t because I have you.” You can feel her bare crotch on yours; her hooves hold her chest close, her breath tickles your earlobe, “You can give me relief because I get to feel you cum...inside.”

“Ahaaaaaagh!”

Dash’s petite frame rocks against the edge of the bed as you thrust deep into her swollen pussy from behind. Your hands massage her cutie marks and squeeze her butt cheeks together—giving you both a boost of pleasure.

“Gaaaaah-Anon!”

Trembling forehooves clutch the bedsheets and her hanging hind hooves curl from the stimulation. In the half a day since you’d last fornicated, Dash had gotten extremely pent up; so much so that the only apparent effect last night’s rutting had on her was a flush in her nether region.

Boisterous, wet slapping gives her an audible hint to the magnitude of the mess you’re helping her make. Her orgasm thus far had been dry, though only in the loosest sense. With each pull from her depths you withdraw a teaspoon worth of hot juice behind your crown; some of it runs down your busy shaft and spreads out to make stringy connections between your crotch and hers, the rest falls victim to gravity—tiny, glistening droplets lowered to the ground on thin ropes.

“Don’t slow dow-*slap!-ah!”

You pick up your pace before she can finish her sentence. It wasn’t that you were getting tired, it was just becoming difficult to get a good grip on her once she started to sweat. You pause to hook the hot crevices of her thighs before hilting hard to make up for the unwanted interruption. The movement refreshes the air with the musty reminder that she was incredibly turned on...just in case you couldn’t tell.

Both instinct and your partner’s body language urge you not to pull out; you lean your weight into her protruded rump and pin it against the edge of the bed. Short upward tugging motions stretch out the dense nerves of her canal entrance and force her dock to curl even harder and flicker her clitoris to tickle your testes.

Your modest pubes find themselves in the perfect position to gently scratch her bare skin above the main event. Luckily they were long enough, and damp enough, that they weren’t prickly; they both created and eradicated an itch in an area she’d otherwise have a hard time getting to on her own.

“Yeah! Yes yes yes right there!”

A bit of drool escapes her mouth as she winces in pleasure; you feel her plothole flare in your bush and you keep grinding into her. Your feet slide on the carpet, unable to push any harder into your lover’s needy hole.

“Oh Dash you’re so good!”

Her wings try to flap but only succeed in swatting the sheets against her muscle tension. Your hips pull back for a quick thrust before you even register the urge to do so. In the brief glimpse of her naked nethers you notice a touch of cherry red in a spot you’d never seen it before. Thinking about it swerves the ride dangerously close to the edge of the track so you do your best to focus elsewhere.

Her back, watch her back. You keep your pace and gaze over the taunt musculature of her withers and wings. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t helping. Dash’s wings were something you’d always found attractive in a way; but after being a witness to their tenderness and role in pegasi sexuality they’d become extremely alluring and could easily arouse you when put on display. They were also very responsive to what you were doing between her legs which made it even harder to keep your cool.

You have to slow down for the greater good despite the rush in your loin and hers screaming at you to speed up. Dash starts clenching the moment you slow; she arches her back and curls her rump up to wink into your underside—a subconscious ploy to refresh your libido. You rest your hands on her lower back and draw a deep breath.

Dash looks back to check on you, an encouragement on the tip of her tongue, but once she realizes you’re trying to hold out she opts to remain silent.

She’s not completely without entertainment though; gentle bobs into her impossibly slick hole remind her that she’s still in intimate contact. Just maybe not to the extent that she—

—*smack!

“Gah!” ...wanted.

In an act of protest she throws her hips rearward again, but this time you’re too shallow to bottom out and she lets out a desperate sigh.

You could still use a bit of time to recover but her short patience wasn’t going to let that happen. You decide to supplement what you can by tending to her dock. Your off hand grabs the muscly nub and you reach into her cavern with your thumb. Only, you don’t find her cavern; a fateful miscalculation plants your pad squarely in the center of her soon-to-be clenching plot hole.

“Eeeep!”

The startled mare jolts and you yank your hand away, “Sorry!” You’d never defined anything as ‘off-limits’ before, but she’d always been a bit shy about her butthole. It took two weeks for her to stop trying to hide it behind her tail when she presented to you. Even then, any hint that you were gazing at the defined sphincter above her more easily shared genital region earned the harshest of blushes.

Last night’s bout of cunnilingus had been a milestone for her, but this misstep threatened to undo all the work you’d done.

You don’t expect a response from her and you return to the safety of her lower back.

She stops trying to hump into you, “You can t-touch it, if you want.”

The comment catches you off guard, “Sorry I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”

“I know…”

Well ok then. Her breathing remains heavy and she doesn’t turn to look at you until you move. Her dock stays out of the way as you grasp it like before; the naked tan donut clenches once as you target it with your thumb.

This time she doesn’t jolt as you come to rest in the wrinkled center. It’s so soft. Her bare skin was incredibly smooth and squishy above her firm, taut muscle. You start to circle the warm ring.

Your hands return to her rump as you slowly ease back into her without any guide other than your throbbing stiffness. A quick glance reveals an excited pegasus with tucked ears.

“Oooh...”

This time you massage her butthole without any reservations, the action adds more stimulant to the mix. Feeling such a sensitive part of her required a lot of trust and certain understanding of how comfortable you were willing to be with each other.

So far, that understanding conveyed an as of yet unlimited acceptance of each other’s bodies.

Dash continues to squeal and grunt and you suddenly realize you’re doing her a disservice. Your thumb dives south to pull on the top corner of her slathered crevice. It collects some lube before returning to tend to her hole with the slick substance. You spread her own product on her anus and circle a bit harder as fall back into rhythm.

You can’t help but stare. The sight of her naked orifice being massaged with her own lubricant sends your heart racing as does the realization that she’s enjoying the incredibly intimate ways you’re touching her.

It was weird in a way. Her plot hole had been right there the whole time; it was difficult to hide it. She did what she could to preserve her modesty but at some point she had to trust you not to indulge...which you mostly didn’t.

Until now.

“Ha-uh!” She loses her breath from a particularly hard thrust. Your thighs are warmed by her fur as you push deep into her. The ministrations on her butt hole are starting to make noise as you get a bit bolder with your rubbing.

“P-pull my tail!”

You don’t think twice about the request and pull yourself as deep as you can go by the root of her dock. The sensation causes her anus to flare and your thumb inadvertently slips and buries in her butt up to the bottom knuckle.

“Ngaaaah!”

Clear mare cum explodes past your tangling testicles and hits the carpet behind you. It happens so fast you only feel her clenched abs and glutes that made the feat possible in retrospect. You realize why your thumb feels extra warm and attempt to remove it only to be arrested by an extraordinarily strong clench.

A breathy, guttural grunt accompanies a steady stream of ejaculate that falls heavy on the floor, impacting several feet behind you and tapering off until it’s but a drizzle between your legs. Her dock shudders, wild strands of her tail dance with the tremors of pleasure. You remember that you’re still inside her and nudge once more.

Just as she takes a breath you draw one in. The world fades away and Dash squeaks as every part of you that’s touching her flexes. Heavy globules of sperm pierce her remaining depths past her squeezed walls. Her legs kick as your hot seed tickles her in places only you could reach. You feel the rest of your remaining load disappears in the dark corners of your mare’s anatomy and bask in the uniquely powerful feeling of accomplishment insemination provided.

“Oh that's the best!” She cries in elation.

The high fades and your thumb is still searching for the pot of gold in Rainbow’s ass. You try to express your apology by gently removing it. She fidgets as you do and you pull out of the tight ring with an audible pop. It flexes a few times as if to protest against the disturbance and your palm covers what remains of her dignity in an apologetic gesture.

Dash looks back with sweaty bangs stuck to her face. Her juices drip from your testicles and run down your leg.

You meet her astonished gaze and smile, “Heh…”

“Heheheh.” Her chuckle of satisfaction and a wry smile is all she can offer too.

Her hoof twitches when a drop of something hits it forcing her to look back, whereupon she spots the new spot on the ground.

You look back to Dash who’s trying to decide whether to be proud or deny it was her doing. She catches your look and gulps, “It y-your fault…”

“Hahahahaha!”

She looks surprised at first but quickly joins in on the laughter. You both laugh like two idiots still intimately joined. When you manage to get a hold of yourself you find the courage to pull out. Almost instantly your white stuffing rushes to fill the void and fill the crevices around her flexing clit.

You leave her to do with it as she pleases and lay down beside her for a long overdue kiss. She pushes the bed away to plant her lips on yours and you pull on each other’s heads to guarantee contact until both of you were satisfied.

A half-flaccid snake lays against a soggy muff as their owners give them a temporary break.

This time, you subdue her unruly tongue and press into her mouth. Sweet saliva lubricates your movements while you check on each tooth to make sure they’re all still there. Her wider row of incisors close down to bite your tongue with the lightest of touches. Enamel edges sharper than your own rake across your taste buds to purposefully tickle you. It was obvious a bite from her would hurt and as impossible as the scenario was, the very thought of it made the exploration more fun.

You’d never known anyone else to the point that you could trust them absolutely. That’s what made it so exciting to see each other’s behavior when the balance of power was lopsided. When one of you had control you didn’t squander the opportunity to take what you wanted, instead, you made an effort to be extra attentive to each other’s comfort. The dynamic was uniquely endearing to experience and honestly, it’s really cool.

You give the pony more of your tongue to safeguard and relax a bit as she welcomes you into her domain. Her slender muscle glazes your own with her pheromone rich saliva, knowing full well how much you relish her natural taste. Unlike most candy shops there were no rules against overindulgence because she never once stops lapping against you while you pry at the corners of her molars.

A little bitterness from lunch’s salad hides in the crevice of her tooth and you note it without a flicker of dismay. It’d been far too long since you’d last played with her teeth so you take your time all the while enjoying the hot exhales helping the sweat evaporate from your face.

Her heart thumps heavily against your bare chest and a squeaking smack signifies a short adjustment. You prod into the soft, extra wet area under her tongue and flick past her frenulum a few times.

Dash giggles. She’s always liked it when you do that. Despite your vast knowledge of her mouth you find you’re discovering something new. That being: her salivary glands were partly responsible for her pheromone production, making spots underneath her tongue incredibly sweet.

Can she taste her own sweetness?

Whether she can or not she enjoys the oral union. The exhausted pegasus lays there and lets you indulge in her body for quite a while, interjecting only to swallow or expose the other side of her tongue to get tasted. With so many kinks and so little open conversation about them, you’d both found it easier to just let your partner enjoy themselves when they developed a fixation.

You feel like you’re in a candy shop and you could’ve easily kept going had your sense of fairness not intervened. You plant your hands on the mattress and pull off her with a sucking smooch.

“*huff...Oh that felt good.” Dash blurts, her eyes fluttering open. She chokes a bit before swallowing and you follow suit.

Her upturned belly begs to get rubbed so you fill the request. The clock revels it’s much later than anticipated, “It’s almost nine Dash.”

She double checks you, still flat on her back, "U-huh." Her head snaps back to see you staring at her. "What?"

“Nothing. Just looking at you.”

“You can’t make me go to bed.” She states defiantly.

"Who said anything about going to bed?"

"You did, in there." She taps your forehead and appears completely serious, "I saw you think it."

Dear Celestia she is a handful when she’s feeling good. You pinch her cheek, “Well you’re wrong. You're not going to bed, we’re going to bed.”

“No.”

You get up to flick on the fireplace lest you freeze overnight.

The semi-paralyzed pegasus reacts violently to your movement and attempts to scramble to her hooves, the only thing she succeeds in doing is dripping cum everywhere, getting tangled up in her own tail and tumbling off the bed.

You’re instantly there to help her up, “Geez Dash what was that?” The worry is evident in your voice.

She looks up unfazed and staggers to her hooves, “I-I’m good, where are we going?”

“...To turn on the fireplace.”

“Ok.” She answers in a chipper tone.

Her apparent attachment is so touching that you can’t bring yourself to correct her. There’s nothing wrong anyways.

The faithful mare keeps shaky pace with you all the way to the switch and all the way back. When you find yourself back at the side of the bed you look down at her big, innocent magenta eyes. She takes that as her queue to smile.

Her tail flicks and a white drop hits the carpet between her hind legs, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Well, you were going to have to shampoo the carpet anyways.

You match her smile and reach down, “Come on, up you go.” You help her claw her way up the edge of the mattress and crawl in as she pulls the blankets aside.

In no time at all the lights are off and you’ve assumed your favorite snuggle position in the clean sheets; your chin rests on her head and her muzzle lays across your neck. You feel her lips move, “Mmm-not sleeping.” She mumbles.

“Yes you are.”

“No. I’m not tired.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“Rut you.”

“How? I’m going to be asleep.”

That gives her pause, “You take breaks.”

“From what?”

“Sleeping.”

“Oh…” Despite her bold claims she was most definitely starting to relax against you. You whisper in her ear, “...You’ve been a busy pony today, maybe you should take just a little nap...just so you’re on your A-game for all the rutting we’ll be doing tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Your fingers comb through her mane and massage her scalp. Her breathing starts to get a bit deeper, her limbs grow heavy on you, “...Sss-a dumb idea.” She mutters.

You pull the blankets over her wing and fix an uncomfortable snag for her; once tended to, the wing clings to your torso like plastic wrap. Your fingers return to trace long lines down the side of her neck. You breathe into her limp ear, “Shhh...close your eyes, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Promise?” She asks weakly.

You hold her head to your chest, “I promise, no matter how sweaty you get.”

“Hmhmm…” She hums humorously. A few breaths pass and she whispers one last thing, "...you better.”

A tacky tongue dabs your neck, coincidental contact from smacking her mouth. Your hands stroke her neck and mane trying as best they could to express your undying gratitude for all she means to you, "Love you so much."

But she’s already asleep. The smile fixed on her face tells you she didn’t need to be awake. She knew exactly what you were going to say.

Morning brings with it the familiar comforts, with two minor differences.

Snow continued to fall outside preventing the wildlife from voicing their various songs, and Dash was awake.

The first caused little concern as it provided you an excuse to stay indoors, but the second was distressing because the pegasus was fidgeting and jabbing your ribs with her wings.

Your first action of the morning is to reach out and pull her against you so she can’t leverage any painful distance.

Hot fur is a welcome change from your shared pillow. You bury your face in whatever is in front of it; in this case, it happens to be a plush neck.

“Well good morning to you too.”

She sounds more awake than she should, “Mhh.”

“You slept a while, you must’ve been really tired for some reason.”

You stretch your arms past her torso and yawn, sinking closer to her as you do. By chance you managed to seize her as she was rolling onto her back, meaning her fluffy chest tuft was in the prime position to cushion your face. So warm. Sooo comfortable…

You let out a groan of lethargic content.

The patch of fur on her sternum grew longer and thicker than everywhere else, beating her pubes by an inch and her pits by a mile. It was long enough to get knotted up in her Wonderbolts uniform and the only time she ever used a comb was to straighten it out. And unlike the rest of her, no matter how much soap you used or how hard you scrubbed it, it always smelled Dashy. It was as if nature intended for her to be the perfect pillow.

Her steady heartbeat thuds against her chest and responds to every little movement and sound you make.

You sigh contently while Dash’s pointed muzzle sifts through the short hair on the top of your head, “I take it you slept good then?”

She begins nibbling on your hair while her forelegs hold you possessively to her chest; teeth lightly graze your skin and send a tingling through your whole scalp.

“Uhuh.”

“Heh, you’re lucky I slept through the night as well.”

You gradually sink lower and Dash gradually climbs higher to facilitate her obsession with fixing your hair. She was pretty accommodating when it came to your differences but preening was one thing she wouldn’t compromise on. Despite the efforts being completely wasted on you, your pegasus mate stuck to a strict schedule of fixing your hair a few times per week. She wasn’t exactly patronizing, her ministrations were rife with nuzzles and kisses; however, as far as she was concerned you were completely helpless in this one regard and took your upkeep as her personal responsibility.

You can’t help but snicker as she licks the errant hairs under the top of your ear back in line, “Pfft...quit trying to pretend you’re asleep, Anon!”

You peek an eye open for the first time and spot her gorgeous smile, “It’s only fair, you do the same thing.”

“That’s cuz you do funny stuff when I’m asleep.”

“Oh? And you don’t?”

“N-No…” She pauses before returning to her job, clambering farther up so her deliberate muzzle can push your head into the pillow.

“What about that time you were playing with my hands?”

“You can’t blame me your hands are cool.”

“Or the time you were pulling at my armpit hair?”

“That was...I just didn’t know you had fur there!”

“Or what about the time I looked over and you were sitting up staring at my—”

“—Oh come on it was just standing straight up for no reason! Anypony would stare!”

You delay your response and she predictably resumes her treatment, “Don’t worry, if I’m pretending to be asleep it’s only because I want to learn more—”

“—Face me real quick.”

You do as she asks and immediately scrunch your face to keep a wild tongue out of your eye, “...more cute secrets I can blackmail you with.”

She pulls back and pegs you with a bemused smirk that tells you that your threat is not credible whatsoever. Your silent acceptance comes in the form of a soft smile and you return to being putty in her arms as her short muzzle works you over and massages pressure points on your face and scalp you didn’t know you had. So far you haven’t told her you enjoy it, but she can read your content body language well enough to know you don’t want her to stop; a swishing tail indicates the fun is mutual.

Finally, she pulls back with a cocky grin, “Aw yeah, that looks better!”

“Is it another mohawk?” You mumble into her breast.

“No it’s like a super cool spiky all over...thing.” She waves her hoof for emphasis.

Her fashion literacy knows no bounds. You blindly bring a hand up to feel one of the spires she’d formed. One of these days you’re going to have to learn how to do that preening thing so she doesn’t feel left out.

You roll her off you so you can come face to face with the mare. A quick peck transitions seamlessly to deeper kissing and the smell of her spit slick fur is just as tranquilizing as the sensation itself. Lips smack passionately and you tangle up in the sheets. You’d never kissed another mare, yet you’re confident nothing can compare to the sensation.

Her fore hooves cup your head and mess the hair she’d worked so hard on. An eternity passes in the soft embrace and a complimentary nuzzling follows. Her warm cheek presses against yours as you both fight to nibble each other’s ears. Dash establishes her advantage quickly, her nips make you squirm and giggle.

For a while you leverage your sharp teeth the only way you ever could by tussling and weakly vying for dominance. Dash manages her nose under your chin and pushes your head up to triumphantly nibble your neck.

“Hahaha! Quit it that tickles!”

You push her away but she doubles down with her nimble tongue.

Pegasi were a unique breed in so many ways, some of which you were still learning. They were by far the most tactile of ponies and Dash was no exception; they were also quite combative and needless to say Dash wasn’t an exception there either. She was far from a predator, but she definitely understood the dynamics of wrestling and instinctively knew your most vulnerable spots.

It also made play fighting all the more exhilarating for her when you managed to gain the upper hand.

Moments turn into minutes, and minutes pass while you enjoy the intimate battle with your partner. Finally, she stops fighting you and gives you another heartfelt kiss on the nose.

She pulls away with a cartoonish pop and you see her eyes sparkle with an enthusiasm that’d only grown stronger, “Hey Anon, stay right here for a bit I got a surprise for you!”

“A surprise?”

“Yeah it’ll only take a minute. But you gotta promise not to move.”

“Alright.” Interesting request. “Do I need to uh...hydrate for the next marathon?”

“Uh, I guess. Better hurry up though.”

“...Oh.”

She stares blankly for a second before breaking down in laughter, “Ahahahaha! I’m messing with you!”

You must’ve had a look of relief on your face because her grin only grows; she rises to her hooves and snickers, “But if you spoil it I won’t rut you until after lunch!”

“Oh my, I better not spoil it then!” That seems more like a punishment for her than for you.

She lunges forward to kiss your nose, and with that she saunters out of the room on a mission to please, her cute narrow butt jiggles as she transitions to a trot. Then again, maybe not.

For the briefest moment you forget why you’re not following her. You can’t ruin her surprise...even though you miss her already. The silence is filled with your thoughts; about the trip, about Dash, and about the marked increase in her affectionate behaviors. You drag your hand along the damp hot spot she left. Tiny cyan hairs stand out against the white fabric. She’s never lost this much before...maybe her winter coat is coming in? Is that a thing with ponies?

Whatever the surprise is, you don’t have to sit up waiting. Your head hits the pillow and you watch as a few errant hairs shoot up only to slowly drift back down. Your eyes drift shut as you shift your energy to listening for clues. What could she be doing out there? The only thing you can hear is the pilot light clicking on the stove top.

*Achoo!

A spontaneous sneeze gets rid of the displaced fur that found its way into your nose. You better not be allergic to her.

Luckily, the problem doesn’t persist and you get to enjoy the fresh scent of your partner as you sink lower and lower in the sheets. It felt strange lounging without something to cling to, especially when evidence of her presence so obviously surrounded you. The air has an almost palatable taste to it, and the lingering warmth plays tricks on your mind as you doze off again.

The next thing you feel is a hoof shaking your shoulder, “Hey, Anon. Get up I made you breakfast!”

Dash’s voice is filled with excitement.

You jerk awake, “What?”

“Heheh! Your breakfast silly. I made it for you.” Her mane is messy and one of her ears is bent over.

She made you breakfast? Your heart jerks a bit in your chest.

Then it stops.

Your senses detect something incredible. A long lost pleasure. An aroma and flavor tied to memories of pure bliss—unlike anything you could possibly be eating for breakfast.

Unless…

Your eyes fixate on the tray of food at the end of your bed. A cup of juice balances precariously next to a plate of steaming eggs, peanut butter toast…and bacon.

“Bacon!”

“Heheh, I knew you’d like it!”

“You made bacon!”

She didn’t just make you bacon, she made you a pile of bacon. A dozen strips at least.

Dash rubs her leg somewhat bashfully, “That was kinda what I’ve been hiding in the fridge this whole time. I had the attendants special order it from Griffonstone.”

Your sights turn to the beautiful creature that’d made your life heaven in every way possible. She freezes, obviously noticing the appetite in your eyes, “I freaking love you Rainbow Dash!”

Her eyes widen and she lets out a muffled squeak as you cup her cheeks and plant a heavy smooch right on her perfect lips.

*Muah!

“I love you I love you I love you I love you!”

Her wings cutely puff with each kiss. When you pull away her face is beat red and glowing with joy and a bit of amusement.

Now you have a dilemma. You can’t eat the bacon and kiss her at the same time—both of which things you desperately want to do. The problem seems like the end of the world, then, in the very next moment you find a compromise, “C’mere you beautiful mare!”

“Huh?” She freezes again in the middle of wiping her mouth. Her ears tuck as you reach down to hoist her up over the edge of the bed and onto your lap.

She submits to your antics while you carefully drag over the tray. Eat the bacon wait to kiss the pony but hold the pony, while eating the bacon...that’ll work.

Dash is a bit too big to hold on your lap, but you manage to keep her comfortable while balancing the tray. Comfortable meaning, you’re squeezing her to your chest like she owes you money, so even if she wanted to complain she didn’t have enough air to.

Fresh strips of perfect bacon tease you mercilessly and you narrowly avoid drooling on the poor pony who never expected such a drastic response from the simple act of kindness.

Zesty aromas prime your taste buds for the incredible experience; you can’t get it in your mouth quick enough, and when you do, your senses explode with ecstasy, “Oh man this is so good!” You blurt with your mouth full.

“Heheh!”

You’d been on a mostly vegetarian diet for as long as you remember but one thing that is apparent is that all your carnivorous cravings were still perfectly intact. You’d had a meat vendor in Ponyville, but he shut down shop due to lack of sales, and he didn’t have bacon. Your partner watches you with wide eyes as you devour the chewy slices of pork with ravenous appetite. She wasn’t put off, but she was impressed. You had just reached the epitome of existence. With bacon in your mouth and your mare at your side there was nothing more life could offer you.

Whether she was following directions, got lucky, or somehow just knew your soul well enough, the bacon was perfectly cooked; not too crispy, but still firm. It wasn’t smoked, but it was seasoned with light spices that complimented the pork. The cut had the lightest coat of savory bacon grease that bolstered its flavor without making it overbearing, and it had the perfect ratio of lean to fat...just like Dash. Your eyes linger on her cutie mark-stained buttocks a little longer than they should’ve.

“Uh, heh! Save the dessert for later big guy!”

You shoot her a look that tells her you’ll have your dessert whenever you please, then you take another bite.

“If I’d known you liked it that much I would’ve made it for you sooner!”

You squeeze her appreciatively, still unwilling to let her go, “This is amazing where did you even find this?”

“The resort usually serves carnivore dishes for the Griffons who stay here. I just remembered how you always used to talk about this stuff so I asked them to have some stocked for us.”

You shove another piece into your mouth and groan, “It’s been so long!”

“Heheh, I guess I did alright huh?”

“Dash, you just won the award for the best mate ever!...Again. Because you already earned it for those lunches you make me. And like, a bunch of other stuff.”

Her ears perk and a grin tugs on the corner of her pleasant smirk. You decide to save what’s left for last so you can start and finish your meal with bacon. When your plate is clean and you’re down to your last piece, an idea strikes you.

“Hey, do you want to try some?”

Dash snaps out of her starry-eyed gaze, “M-me?”

“No silly, the other mare I’m holding. Yes you.”

She looks at you nervously, “But ponies don’t eat meat.”

“You like fish.”

“Yeah but that’s not the same and that stuff smells weird.”

“Dash listen to me, bacon is much better than fish and if it makes you sick I’ll say sorry.”

You hold it out in front of her and her eyes shirk away, “I-I don’t know, Anon.”

“Come on just once! If you don’t like it you can say ‘I told you so’ for the next ten years.”

She snorts, “Alright fine, but just a little bit. And grab the plate in case I have to barf it up.”

“Aw you’ll be fine.”

She offers you one last look just to make sure you’re sure about this. Then, she gingerly bites off a corner. Her eyes move to your as she chews. You watch her intently as she experiences the wonder of bacon for the first time. This must be what it feels like watching your baby take its first steps.

She swallows without incident, “Meh, it’s okay I guess.”

“Just okay!?”

“Yeah it’s kinda weird...almost like a burned taste.”

“Well it is cooked.”

She pushes the remainder back towards you, “The rest is all yours dude.”

You shoot her a second glance, “Are you sure you’re not pretending to dislike it so I can have the rest?”

“Heh, yeah I’m sure. Besides, I have to save room for another kind of meat.”

You just shrug and chew up the last piece of bacon, savoring every last bit of flavor before it finally disappears for good leaving you full and satisfied. Wait, what did she say?

She meets your inquisitive look with a flirty one. A chromatic tail flicks across the sheets, the sound of it brushing the fabric is the only noise that fills the room.

She moves with a wry smirk; the empty tray is pulled away and she pushes you back into your pillow, “You didn’t think that was your whole surprise did you?” Her fore hoof drags up your chest and finds your jaw; she turns your head toward her and whispers an inch away—her breath tickling your lips, “Just cuz I’m a little crazy with estrus doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed how good you’ve been to me.”

Her tongue curls underneath your upper lip, preceding an ardent kiss. Her hoof, which had been moving stealthily, suddenly presses into your hard shaft under the sheets. The warm, soft pad of her frog feels up the entirety of your manhood.

She pulls away and smacks her mouth. “Heheh, you’re gonna taste like that stuff for the rest of the day.” She blushes but grins wider, “At least that part of you will.”

Her hoof never leaves you as she nudges away the covers with her nose. The moment you’re unveiled her eyes widen a bit and she swallows to check her salivation. She’d gone a full night in the middle of heat without any sexual expression and there was clear urgency behind her actions.

Her nostrils flare and she leans in to nuzzle your member. Soft fur of her cheek feels incredible and you can’t bottle up your arousal. A drop of pre smears against her soft face, darkening her fur as she breathes you in.

“Dash, you’re the best…”

She nuzzles back to the other side again, a soft smile adorning her lips. Her muzzle tucks to prod at your testes and her two fuzzy ears pull tight to her nape in response to your masculine scent. She treats your organs with reverence; tender nudges portray more affection than wanton lust. Soft lips gently kiss each orb as if appreciative of the fact that they might someday hold the key to a foal of her very own.

Without hesitation she brings her other fore hoof into play, slowly stroking you straight up and down. She shifts her attention back to your length and puts her all behind her strokes; the sum of her warm hooves and teasing nose fuzz add up to a uniquely intimate experience.

“Gah! Dash how do you do that with hooves?”

“Heheh! Just sit back and enjoy it.”

If her twitching tail is any indication, such complacency would leave her hanging, but at the same time this was obviously a continuation of your present, and you already know how adamant she is about not spoiling presents. You’ll repay her later.

Her eyes glance furtively to yours and she spits some lubrication on your juncture. The hot saliva flows around you and slicks her movement as she picks up pace; part of you can’t wait for her to take things up a notch, but she’s enjoying this far too much to rush it. You watch her smile grow as she squeezes the base of your penis and work a drop of pre all the way up until it peeks out from your tip. Her tongue flashes out to lick it up, then, she looks at you with the same giddy smile.

This mare…

You feel a bit abashed at the attention, but she doesn’t relent. She bites her tongue and passionately pumps you while darting her eyes back and forth from the action to your expression. You try not to watch, but you just can’t tear your eyes away. Once she sees you give up and offer her your full attention, she pulls your member over and forcibly licks your glans. Pink tongue smears your sensitive bulb with a fresh coat of drool.

“Aaaagh!” You squint in pleasure.

“Hey, Anon.”

Her mirthful voice gives you the will to peek once more; once you make eye contact she licks you again, but slower.

“Gah, Dash!” Your legs twitch in sync with the thousands of taste buds you register.

Now that she’s eased you into the sensation she brings her tongue into the mix permanently. Breath and hot spit bathe your shaft and balls; her tongue and lips work their way through every nook and cranny. Each bit of flavor she finds drives her wild for more and her appetite blooms.

Even in the context of equine culture, which was already somewhat oral-centric, the pegasus lapping at your genitals like they were a popsicle on a hot day clearly exceeded the standard. Her enthusiasm grew in proportion to your shared intimacy, but when she got in one of these moods anything you put in front of her would get familiar with her tongue pretty quick. Maybe she has an oral fixation?

Her warm lips respond as if reading your mind; a targeted nibble on a sensitive spot attempts to route the epiphany from your consciousness before you can commit it to memory. Without noticing, you grip the sheets, causing Dash to snort and double down her efforts.

Her long, slender tongue wraps halfway around your girth and trails up. When she gets to your tip she pauses; her tail swishes ecstatically while her slick muscle laps along the rim of your corona where your taste was apparently the most rewarding. You’re overwhelmed with the sensation of being ardently explored by your loving partner and she exacerbates that by wiggling her tongue tip into your urethral slit. You groan and leak from incredible arousal.

The discovery of more pre spurs her to keep pressing.

You stifle your grunt this time but she still feels it. She scoots a bit closer to better surround your crotch. Saliva coats your cherry red tip in a shiny gloss as her tongue washes it over and over and over again. She keeps licking until your nerves are overloaded and your legs twitch...then she licks some more.

She pauses to swipe a lock of hair away. Her flushed face turns to you, one hoof holds your opposite hip, your penis bobs and drips saliva, “Don’t hold out on me now, I skipped breakfast!”

What did you ever do to deserve her?

She positions between your spread legs and angles you back with her hoof. But instead of getting down to business she continues her teasing ministrations. Puckered kisses pepper your sensitive frenulum and trail down to your scrotum.

“Dash?” You hoped your voice portrayed the need you felt.

“Hmm?” She hums and kisses the base of your shaft.

“Can you-ah!”

“Can I what? Heheh!” She snickers and drags her wet muscle up your side with a mischievous smirk, “Don’t get shy on me.”

You go to open your mouth and but she steals your breath with a well placed kiss, “You know I’ll do anything for ya Anon, you just gotta ask.” Her voice comes across as genuine as ever. Her hooves hook around your shaft to brace against an incredibly forceful lick against your spongy underside. It pushes up another drop of pre—setting her up for the next torturous exhibition, “Anything at all…”

“Canyoupleasegivemeablowjob!” You manage through gritted teeth.

“Sure thing!” She quips.

Oh no...that tone of voice.

The mare takes a deep breath and blows on your wet shaft. It wasn’t at all what you intended but it makes you jerk out of surprise.

“Dash!”

She explodes mid-blow with uncontrollable laughter, “Pbbt-Ahahahahaha!”

She just never gives you a break does she? It doesn’t take long for her to contain herself and when she does she flashes you an apologetic smile, “Heh, don’t worry big guy I got you.”

Puckered lips meet your tip and kiss off its ever present bead, but this time she doesn’t let up; you watch her jaw part and slowly descend down your sex. Her lips seal around you allowing suction to guide your sensitive rod safely onto her cushioning tongue.

Copious saliva made travel as smooth as silk. Your eyelids drift closed allowing you to focus on the mental image the amazing sensations were creating. She never once hesitates, and before you know it, you feel a bump as her nose comes to rest against your crotch.

She stays motionless for a moment, her lips suckle around the root of your penis—messily drooling while she grows accustomed to having your throbbing tip resting against her soft palate. Scalding air blasts your pubes out of the way. Dash swallows. Her audible gulp is accompanied by the very visceral sensation of her palate constricting and her thick, aft taste buds grinding against your all too sensitive underside.

Before you realize it you’ve reflexively bucked into her. You look down to make sure you didn’t hurt her, but all you see is a giggling mare staring at you with her mouth full. You’re not going to last long.

Her expression tells you that won’t be a problem. Hot tongue fills as much of the gap as it can just to make sure your sex was in constant contact with her hot, wet mouth.

The excited pegasus withdraws an inch before promptly deciding she’s gone far enough and presses back down to the very root, then, she starts bobbing.

A moan of pleasure escapes you and prompts a sympathetic moan from your partner. Her mouth vibrates and gulps away the ensuing spurt of pre. She may have tried teasing you at the start, but with things in high gear, she had a single track mind that could only lead to one explosive conclusion.

To shake things up she bottoms out and squeezes her tongue out to lay across your testicles, then she fondles them with a sticky frog.

“Aaaagh!”

Hips gently thrust up to surrender more of your penis to the heavenly maw. Hard, rhythmic throbs warn her that she’s going above and beyond the limits of your stamina, but all it does is stoke her enthusiasm.

Her wings, which had been draping loosely over your legs, stretch out as she pushes harder into your crotch to match your force. Her hoof massages your balls around her wagging tongue.

“Oh Dash I’m close!”

The pony starts bobbing again all the while tending to your gonads. Without any other cues besides your throbbing member and swelling tip, she begins to moan in sync with her down thrusts.

She slurps loudly around the lathered pole but makes no effort to contain her mess. Saliva pools in the crook of your testes and coats you thoroughly with the help of a zealous hoof. Her other foreleg swings up to brace against your abdomen and she does her best to keep you calm by rubbing your belly.

Spit, lips, and wild tongue mercilessly drive you to the brink of orgasm, and once she senses your imminent release, she looks up to catch your eye with a sultry gaze that welcomed your explosion of taste.

“Dash I-gah!...I’m cumming!”

*Mmmm

The confession motivates her to make you cum even harder and she plunges down to passionately suckle and lap on the penis that’d worked so hard to pleasure her in her need.

Your will is far too taxed to even try to hold back. At the first hint of tingling you give in and lace the roof of her mouth with hot semen. Her tail flags high and her wings pop taunt as her own arousal spikes drastically.

Your hips rise on their own in a fruitless attempt to get deeper, but Dash pulls back and utilizes her strong tongue to grind you against the ridges on the roof of her mouth. Her eyes threaten to flutter shut from the blissful sensation of bringing her mate to the precipice of satisfaction. The second pump is much more forceful and makes her squint. Viscous semen clings to the roof of her mouth as it races down her throat and splatters her uvula; she coughs once, then twice, forcing a decent volume of ejaculate to tickle her throat the wrong way. Much to her credit, she keeps her cool and draws your head back to the entrance of her mouth to focus on breathing past the invasive goo.

Once more solid pump unloads on her tongue before the fourth twitches out of her grasp and throws a continuous rope of cum across her brow. She jerks and freezes when the warm spatter hits her face; she watches with raised brows as the final spurt arcs back with the angle of your unleashed member to spill on your belly.

“Ahhh…wow...” You sigh in relief.

Dash relaxes a bit and slowly opens her eyes; nostrils flare from the bleachy scent and she swallows while taking stock of her situation.

She smirks at the mess on your stomach.

“How could you miss, I was right in front of you!”

You’re tempted to respond but you know you’re in no state of mind to spar with her. As it turns out, she wasn’t planning on waiting for an answer; a blue and white striped muzzle suckles down on your tip.

“Ha!” You yelp from the feeling of her tongue cleaning the pool of white out of your belly button.

Rainbow’s cheeks are fiery when she finally finishes mopping up. She taps on your leg to draw your attention back up at which point she opens her mouth with a smack; her stringy pink tongue rises from a sea of your swirling, pearly white to show off your gift.

Oh my god.

The look on your face must’ve been a priceless reward because her own chuckling forces her to swallow before she makes an even bigger mess.

“Dash *huff...thank you so much.”

She wipes her face with a fore hoof, “Geez you don’t have to thank me, it makes it sound like you like me or something.” She shoots you a flustered grin before licking her hoof clean.

Your head plops back on the pillow. That’s it, she’s too sexy. You wait behind closed eyes while you listen to her cleaning herself. Wetly, cleaning herself. You hold her sessile hoof, gently rubbing it until it gets drafted away to help the effort. She offers her tongue-cleaned hoof as a replacement which you gladly accept.

“What do you say we get you cleaned up?”

“I don’t wanna take a bath!” She blurts, un-ironically.

“Look. After…that...I’m not about to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

She giggles while licking the side of her muzzle.

“But.” She pauses her celebration, “If you choose to take one, then I’ll take one with you. Just to make it fair.” You throw in a wink to drive the message home.

The worked up mare takes the hint, but remains skeptical. “You sure you can take me on with your battle buddy out of commission?” She pats said buddy teasingly.

You sit up and cup her cheeks, “W-wait what are you—”

—*Smooch!

Your lips pass a simple kiss to hers, proving that nothing can preclude your affections. Her ears perk and she looks shocked.

“With one hand behind my back.” She offers no rebuttal. “Come on.”

Hooves clatter on the tile floor as she shadows you—still reeling from the kiss. You reach in and start the shower before stepping back outside to wait for it to warm up. Dash looks up at you, her innocence contrasted by suggestively wetted fur adorning her beautiful face.

Her tail twitches.

It wouldn’t hurt to get a head start. You tap the top of the counter, “Hop up.”

She cocks her head, “Huh?”

“Put your hooves up here.”

She looks confused but props her front hooves on the counter anyways. She keeps her perplexed look while you walk around behind her, “Why do you want me to…”

She trails off when you kneel down and spread her hind hooves. Hands trail up her perfectly toned legs and meet in the small of her back while you watch her expression in the mirror, “Do you know why yet?”

Dash gulps and nods.

Her tail is being held out towards your face and a quick swipe helps her shaky dock pull it back the rest of the way. Sweet feminine musk and a hint of sweaty exertion invades your senses. Her swollen, bulging labia are having a hard time fitting between her cheeks. The sight is alarming, but you know how to treat the condition.

“Then tell me.” You brush over last night’s patches of stained fur.

“B-because you like my-eep!”

A firm grip on her dock cuts her off from giving the wrong answer, “Not even close.”

The trembling mare struggles to adjust her stance while you rub the underside of her tail nub. She gulps, “Because, you wa-want to repay me?”

Getting closer. ”I’d love to...once I hear the right answer.” You gently pull back on her dock forcing her shy plot hole to twitch. You trace your finger around her pert anus, down her perineal raphe, and just along the edge of her incredibly soft nether lip.

She shudders and squeaks, “M-maybe y-you-nnngh!”

Invisible pheromones seeped from the pores in her dock to waft you with the lurid aroma of your mate’s fertility. A homing beacon that drove you to senseless attraction; like a moth circling a lamp.

She arches her back and thrusts her narrow butt towards your face in the hopes that you would cede to her unspoken wishes. Her clit tries to wink past her puffy lips but barely sneaks a hint of its pink past her fat folds. She ducks her head and whines; this mare wanted to be bred, she needs to be bred.

You nudge on the underside of her spongy crevice to tease her enclosed clitoris. A dribble of juices patter against the tile floor. This might be a little unfair.

“I’ll give you a hint, it’s the same reason I gave you that kiss earlier.”

The athlete endures her painfully unfulfilled urges a moment longer to think and find the composure to answer. The allure of her luscious sex so near to your face makes it almost as difficult for you.

“Because you...y-you love me?”

“That sounded like a question?”

“Because you love me!” She yells.

“That’s better.”

The pegasus whimpers from relief, her nether lips drool hot arousal between her legs. Pheromones breathe new life into your limp member as much as they demand you to breathe them in.

Her whole body, from her pulsing feathers to her quaking muzzle was begging for it, and judging by the rate of her leaking, she only needed the lightest of stimulation to explode. Perhaps literally.

Your face disappears behind the shadows of her curves.

*knock knock knock

Both your heads snap away, one far more annoyed than the other.

*knock knock knock

Dammit, that wasn’t your imagination. Dash shoots you a panicked look, partly because of the unwelcome visitors and mostly because you were thinking about leaving her to answer it.

“One minute!” You yell, then make your case to the distraught pegasus, “It must be those other guests the letter mentioned. We should probably…” You trail off when you realize how mangy Dash looks, “...I should probably answer that.”

Dash could not disagree more and whimpers in protest. Don’t make this harder than it has to be please.

Her eyes are filled with a sort of terror as if you were about to embark on a journey from which you might not return. Sticky strings continue to fall from under her tail as her whimpering becomes more distraught.

The terrifying noise of the doorknob turning and opening up makes your decision for you. “I said one minute!” Excited whispers stop and retreat at the warning.

What the heck kind of ponies just barge in another room!

Dash dismounts the valet and moves to block you as you reach for a towel. “Hey there, it’s alright I’ll be right back.” Her eyes waver and plead with you not to go, but if you didn’t you risk getting found in this state by whatever nosy patrons you now shared the building with. You dart for the door as the knocking picks up again.

*Yelp!

A shrieking cry of distress pierces your ears and you spin around to see the injured mare staring at you like you betrayed her. You didn’t even know ponies could make a sound that hurtful.

The look shakes you to your very core and in that moment, a decision is made. You take a nearby chair and jam the door shut just as someone goes to speak. “Give us a bit, just started the shower.”

Somewhere on the other side, some pony responds, but it doesn’t matter. You rush back to the quivering pegasus and catch her as she leaps into your arms. Your hand moves to her wings and teeth clack as your mouths meet in an unfettered sloppy kiss.

And by Celestia Dash was a pro at sloppy kisses.

*knock knock knock knock

The intrusion seems to come in response to the whimpering and smacking, but neither of you hear it. A drop of heat hits your thigh and snakes down your leg, prompting you to catch the next drop with your member before it escapes. Her legs clamp around your waist and she practically forces herself down on you. An uncoordinated boner pokes her furry cheek. The next prod is met with a rush of warmth as you enter her body.

She winks, spilling more of her juices onto you as you immediately fall into rhythm. The fulfilled pegasus groans appreciatively into your mouth; bottles and toiletries clatter against the floor and mirror as you sit her on the edge of the valet to ream her sloppy canal.

Oh dear, I hope they haven’t slipped. I never did like hard tile in a bathroom, it’s too slick on the hooves.

He did seem like he was in a hurry. He doesn’t have hooves though, does he?

Steam from the hot shower fills the room and steals more oxygen from your laboring lungs but the throes of pleasure leave you blissfully ignorant. Fingers dig into the sinew of her toned back leaving claw-like traces through her sweat-dried fur. Dash’s legs could no longer grip you and her rump was sliding around on the now sex-slick counter top. You grip the fat of her butt forcefully and bring her pelvis to yours in a coordinated thrust.

Hot liquid squirts out around your buried meat to wet the floor. “Aaaa-mff!” Her cry is cut off by you practically eating her muzzle.

She said he had things called ‘feet.’ That’s the same things dragons have, right?

Maybe, but remember, she said he was different and not to compare him to anything, especially monkeys.

Monkeys? I thought those had thumbs?

Dash’s clitoris finds itself trapped between a slick thumb and your hard rod and she squeals when you grind her sensitive bean against the bare skin of your thrusting appendage. Kept silent only because you were sucking on her tongue—she shudders and jerks, wings knock your shaving cream onto the floor, breaking the nozzle and sending foam flying around in an explosive decompression. Feet struggle to keep you steady on the layer of slimy ejaculate she’d spilled so liberally on the floor.

Another orgasm rips her tongue from your grasp and she pushes her drooling muzzle against your cheek to scream, “Oooh-ho buck!”

Sounds like they might be having a hard time. I hope we’re not rushing them. We’re not rushing them are we dear?

No of course not! We’ll just wait here until they finish their shower.

She’s not usually that much of a potty mouth, maybe she dropped the soap or something.

The affectionate mare licking your mouth and squeezing your shaft was doing a very good job of convincing your body to forfeit all of its remaining payload to her. In fact. “Dash I gotta—”

“—Put it on me!” The rapid-fire response was wise enough to exchange a greater pleasure for one that would leave her more presentable, and in the heat of the moment, it takes you a second to register the atypical request.

You look into her eyes so she can see the incredible pleasure the next two thrusts give you, then, you pull out and promptly shoot white ropes across her quivering teats. She picks up the slack and nudges the rest out by rubbing her slick pubis against your base, sticky cyan pubes cling to your slimed and dripping shaft as she watches you unload. “Oh that’s so bucking hot!” Your knees grow weak as she whispers her lust-filled encouragement. Her gaping hole was still puffy and swollen, still obviously aroused. She catches your stare, and spreads her legs wider as some drool drips from her bottom lip.

Sounds like she’s a bit begrudging with the shampoo.

I hope for his sake she takes showers more than once per week.

I’m sure she doesn’t make half as much of a mess as she used to. A good stallion can change a mare that way.

Dash’s oily feathers smudge the mirror as her spread wings shudder across its glass surface. Her lower half is curled into your face, a firm grip keeps her hind legs to either side of your head as you lavishly entertain her sloppy marebits with some cunnilingus. Her torso is curled downwards and her forelegs grip her knees to artificially boost her flexibility; letting her lap up the mess of semen that stuck to her fur and teats. The sounds of her oral finesse combine with yours as her hot, labored breath adds to the stuffy atmosphere between her legs, causing another bead of sweat to break on your brow.

A squeak and a shudder precede an undulation of her canal and rapid flicker of her clit. A rush of fluid dribbles down your chin before her second contraction shoots some across your cheek.

They sure are taking their time in there.

Oh, Bow, don’t be like that! Do you know how long it takes to properly clean all your fur? If you don’t get all the shampoo out it’ll make you itch all day, if you were a mare you’d know things like that.

Yeah, I suppose, and not to mention it sticks like glue.

“Mmmh! Why don’t you do this more often!” She looks down at you as she clears the last speck of sperm from her lips.

You come up for air, licking your own clean of her glistening product. “Because you never want it on you, you dirty mare.”

She lurches farther down to lick your forehead just as you give her nether lips a parting smooch. The flamboyant tongue tickles your face until you trap it in a deep, heartfelt kiss. By the time you part, your blushes had caught up with your libidos.

“That’s not even close to vanilla ice cream.”

“Heheheh, it’s a lot better than whatever you had.” She tucks her ears and hangs onto your neck, obviously not impressed by her own flavor.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” You peck her lips once more to make her squirm.

Her return nuzzle is soft and a bit sticky, “I’m just surprised you had that much left.”

So much for her weekly showering habit. I thought she’d have grown out of that by now for sure!

Well, I suppose you can only expect so much from an overachiever.

Remind me to look for vanilla ice cream shampoo the next time we’re in the store.

Hot water cascades down your bare bodies as you comb your fingers through her mane. A proper wash took less than a minute now that the water was no longer going to waste. Dash’s mess more or less rinses right off you so the entire time was dedicated to scrubbing her sticky fur and face.

You dry off first and hand her the towel, “Hey Anon, was there some pony at the door?”

Oh crap.

You jerk the door open, a towel hastily wrapped around your waist, “Can I help you!” Your resolve is dashed upon seeing a middle aged mare with an unfettered contagious smile. Looking at the her, you feel a strange sense of familiarity, but what really tips you off is her companion stallion’s mane.

Despite their friendly smiles, you feel a cold sweat break across your brow.

Oh no.

“My my, she wasn't lying! He sure is a big one! So pleased to meet you!” The glowing mare grabs at your hand and shakes vigorously while the large purple stallion tries to contain his excitement like a toddler in line to see Santa. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Y-you have? F-from who?”

You knew exactly who from, you just didn't want to believe it.

The mare turns to the stallion, “Oh he’s got a great sense of humor! From our Dashie of course!”

The burly stallion takes his turn shaking your hand like it was a crying baby.

It was at this moment, a more collected but still pretty haggard looking blue pegasus exits the bathroom. With a hastily washed face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anybody move as stiff as she’s moving now.

“Hi mom. Hey dad.”

You never thought the love of your life could say such horrifying words.

Just as their older couples eyes light up and the stallion was on the verge of speaking, Rainbow takes stance beside you.

“Uh, I left the tap in the bathroom running, give us a minute yeah?” Dash slams the door in their approaching faces.

You’d never heard such a flimsy excuse, but to be honest you were so shocked you couldn't have come up with anything better. Dash grabs you by the towel and hauls you back into the bathroom. You stumble after her in a daze. Her parents. They’re here. In this building.

“Anon. Anon! Look at me!” She shoots in a hushed whisper.

You do.

“Listen, it’s gonna be ok, I know how to handle them, I’ve done it before. Just follow my lead and we should be able to salvage this vacation.”

“You mean you didn’t invite them?”

“Invite them! Do I look like I’m in the mood to have a bucking tea party with my parents!”

“Sorry, dumb question—”

“—I don’t even know how they found out about this! It’s like they’re psychopathically connected to my mind!”

“Telepathically?”

She just stares at you, irate.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad, they’re probably just excited to meet me.”

“That’s the problem, they’re excited!” She sighs and sits down.

You pat her shoulder, “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll visit with them for a bit, explain that we’re up here as a sort of getaway and don’t plan on doing a whole lot, maybe set them up in a room across the building and then pick up where we left off.”

“The whole reason for coming out here was so we wouldn’t have to keep it down! Or stick to a schedule! Or talk to other ponies—”

“—Ok, ok. It’ll be alright, we’ll find some space. Let’s just take it one step at a time.” You grab her withers and tilt her chin up to look at you, “And know that nothing can ruin the time I spend with you.” A wink completes the smooth delivery.

Nothing could make her blush right now, but the comment was clearly uplifting. You gesture to the bathroom’s exit, “After you, miss Dash.” The show makes her snort and the small smile stays on her face until you’re all cleaned up, dressed up, and ready to go.

An air of hurriedness lingers out of fear that taking too long behind a closed door would summon the ponies again. You fix your last button and press your collar down; the anxiety was starting to twist your stomach into a knot, but you couldn’t show that in front of her, “Do I look alright? Maybe I should trim around my ears.”

“It doesn’t matter dude, they have no idea what a human is supposed to look like.” Her tail flicks and she stomps on the ground to force it to stop.

This might be rougher for her than for you. “Yeah, but I have to make a good first impression.”

“You already did; you picked me as your partner.” The pegasus lets out a stressed sigh and stands up on her hind legs to conclude your fussing with a final adjustment. She catches your eye, “Don’t worry Anon, they’re gonna love you the way you are...because I do.”

Her confidence booster warms your heart, “With you by my side, I could face an army and not flinch.”

“Pffft! Yeah! Because I’d be kicking all the flank!” She never lets you get away with cheesy stuff. She hops down and heads for the door. “We can probably sneak away after lunch.”

You nod.

“Ready?”

You nod.

Her tail flicks as if to protest.

Dash opens the door and immediately recoils. A click and a flash immortalize that moment of her frustrated existence.

Her father winds up the camera again, “There you are! We knew you were busy so we just waited patiently!”

Did they...were they there the whole time?

“Geez mom, you could’ve warned me!”

“Oh but dear the look on your face is so cute!”

“And it’s definitely a keeper!” The stallion says pridefully as he blows on the developing photo paper.

“Oh! Would you like to introduce us to you special friend, dear?”

Dash grumbles, “Mooom! You already know who his name, and he’s not my special friend…Anon’s my mate.” The poor athlete was so red her ears were starting to discolor.

“Of course Rainbow, but he doesn’t know us yet!”

You take the initiative and suck in your crippling anxiety before your partner melts, “I’m Anon, pleasure to meet you. Bow and Wendy, right?”

“You did tell him about us! Wonderful! We get to skip the introductions then!” Bow blurts.

Did he just look at you funny? Does he know what you just did? How much could they hear?

“Have you had breakfast yet? There’s not much to eat in here it looks like.” Windy starts to poke her head into the mess of a room and both you and Dash instinctively close the gap, stepping out into the hallway and sealing the door behind you.

“Haha uh, just dessert.” Dash’s suppressed smirk seems to direct even more anxiety your way. It was like she thought embarrassing you would make it easier for her to endure her own punishment. Or maybe she just wants to play a game, “I still have room for more.” She glances back with a wink.

So it’s going to be like that, then. Her parents seem unfazed as they lead the way to the kitchen, but your sharp look tells her the battle is on. “I already had an awesome breakfast, but I can always eat again.” You pat her head, hoping the compliment would be enough to throw her off kilter as well as mask your lack of smart comeback.

She looks at you suspiciously. This is going to be a long day.

Soon enough, second breakfast was halfway gone. Dash’s awkward silence and permanent blush had really set the tone for both of you, and you were beginning to feel the tremendous pressure of dining with the parents of the mare you’d just exploded all over. Just now. Like twenty minutes ago.

You sort numbly through a pile of berries on your plate. Dash sat next to you doing a much better job at finishing her food. She used shampoo right?

“So!” Bow lays his silverware down. “Anon, what’s it like to be a space pirate?”

His bubbling enthusiasm had died down but right now you wish it hadn’t. The seriousness of his tone scared you. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

He looks confused for a moment, as if you were the one who was mistaken. “Oh, I suppose that’s not the correct term for it. Uhh, how goes the galactic wealth redistribution business?”

You just stare at him; beside you Dash doesn’t look up from her plate.

“Bow! He doesn’t do that anymore!” Windy whispers not-so-quietly into his ear. The stallion nods in understanding.

“Right, sorry, how’s the research job in Canterlot?”

You look to Dash for help but she avoids eye contact. Maybe he was trying to crack a joke? “It’s...pretty good actually.” You answer hesitantly while keeping an eye out for any sign from Dash, “I got to talk to the unicorn who designed the Wonderbolts flight suit the other day.”

Windy squees like a filly but with enough power to burst eardrums, “I’d love to meet the pony who makes our Dashie look so, oh what’s the word...”

“...dashing?”

“...dashing.” You and Bow both finish at the same time, to which he chuckles and hoof bumps you with an approving nod. Score!

The frazzled ball of fuzz next to you grumbles, “It’s amazing that a mare like her could look just as good with clothes on.”

Dash chokes on a berry. Didn’t think that one through.

Bow’s smile stays plastered to his face, either to hide his sudden regret at that hoof bump or his own lack of understanding.

Windy chimes in after Dash manages to swallow her food. “Oh, speaking of which I think it’s just adorable how you take care of her laundry for her. Dash says you always take care of her stuff so she can relax.”

The pony in question shoots a warning look to her mom, then to you; neither of you pay attention.

How do they know all of this? It’s sure giving you a leg up on the competition, but still. “She makes a mess of the place alright, but that’s fine with me.” You nudge her with an elbow, “Isn’t it, Dash?”

“If I recall you’re the one who stained my uniform, but I’m not keeping track.” The steamy memory she evoked shuts you up, “So what brought you up here, mom? Dad?”

“We just wanted to see how our favorite couple were getting along!”

“Plus this is our first chance to meet Anon!” Bow adds. “It’s not every day you get to meet a real life bounty hunter, marauder...type guy.” He trails off under Windy’s judgmental stare.

“Anon, I apologize. My husband’s a bit—”

“—Please, call me dad.”

“...He’s a bit, well, intrigued by your story and he forgets that those days are behind you now.” She winks at Dash who’s a crimson mess.

“Hahaha...yeah.” They’re not laughing. No one is laughing. “That’s right I’m a changed man, ever since I met your daughter. That’s for sure.” Clearly it wasn’t a joke, and that meant it was much more of a tangled mess than you care to unravel at the moment.

“I know! And it’s just so romantic how she convinced you to stay in Ponyville and be her partner!” She swoons.

“I never really had any intentions of leaving.”

“Not after she put her moves on you that’s for sure.” The burly stallion grins and winks at Dash, “Is it true that she won your heart with a chocolate donut and a kiss on the first date—”

“—Alright! Whaddaya say we give you a tour of this place?” Dash interjects.

“No pony’s going anywhere until we have our breakfast treats.” Windy gets up and shuffles a tray of pastries from the counter. She hoofs one out to everyone including an increasingly antsy Rainbow Dash.

You lean over to smell the warm pastry using the position to mask a reassuring pat to her back. Her nostrils flare as you pass and she remains rigid, fighting her determined wings, “Mmm, you’re getting spoiled; two desserts in one morning.”

“Yeah, lucky me.” She grumbles. She really shouldn’t be this wound up still.

“Almost forgot the topping!” Windy quips and leans in to drizzle out a stream of vanilla icing across the cinnamon crescent.

Your arm wraps around her barrel in a spontaneous hug, conveniently timed to keep her wing boner from flaring. She doesn't dare fight the display, torn between frustration with your antics and dependency on your help.

Her eyes can’t leave the molten icing slowly spreading across her pastry, but your wherewithal helps you notice Windy elbowing Bow, who quietly readies his camera.

The hug looks normal enough despite the fact that your arm was starting to get tired from fighting her wing. “Think you have enough room? Or is it all just too much?”

“It doesn’t even look like!-I mean…*Grrr!...I can handle a lot more than that!” She lifts the pastry to her lips and some icing drips off.

“Careful, you’re gonna get it stuck in your fur.” You catch the drop, then take a bite of your own before leaning back into the hug to watch her.

She takes a fat bite of the pastry and mumbles, “See! Told you!” A quick peck on the cheek and a flash of the camera capture her glowing indignation.

“Do you have to take pictures of every single thing!” She explodes as pastry bits fly from her mouth.

“Oh dear, someday you’ll be glad someone took these pictures for you.”

“Yeah, of my competitions and stuff!”

“Well I’m glad someone’s taking these pictures. They’ll go nicely with my other ones.” You jab.

“What other ones!”

You turn to Bow, “How’d it turn out?”

“Don’t ignore me!” Dash fidgets but doesn’t leave the protective hold of your arm.

“Another keeper!” He shows it to you before tucking it in a pouch. “Oh, Windy, how about we get one of our Rainbow kissing Anon!”

“No!” Dash blurts.

“Aw! We can have matching pastry smooches for our album!”

“You have an album of these!”

You hold a pastry between your teeth and lean in next to her, “I’m rweady.” Your comment proves to be the last straw and the table bursts into spirited disagreement.

Breakfast comes to a rambunctious end as Dash weasels her way out of kissing for the camera, and luckily, that manages to get her mind where it needed to be to deflate her wings. Once she’s safe to release into the wild, you let her go, at which point she focuses her attention on securing the sanctity of your shared bedroom. “Mom, you should check out the awesome room at the far end of that hall. Come on, Anon, let’s help them with their bags. Wait, where are your bags?”

“Whoa hold up sport, we’ve already moved in.” Bow cautions her.

Dash looks visibly relieved, “Do you like it? It’s pretty quiet right? Walls are pretty thick.”

“More or less, it creaks when you close the dresser drawers but other than that—”

“—You moved in next to us?” She’s more flabbergasted than angry.

“Well of course, why would we use our platinum member status to get our reservations, take a four hour train ride, trek all the way up to a snowed in secluded mountain getaway and not live next to our favorite couple!”

It was as if the last bridge of hope had just crashed and the cyan pegasus was left stranded on an island of despair. A cold, chaste island of unquenchable heat. She turns to you, wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape.

So this is why she doesn’t talk much about her parents. As nice as they were, and as nervous as you were, there was still room in your heart to be a little irked at their antics. “I hope we won’t be a bother to you.” That was as close as you dared get to insinuating anything lewd.

“Oh don’t worry about that Windy and I are heavy sleepers!”

Your eyes turn to the despondent mare, “I’m glad.”

Dash huffs angrily and pushes on, “I suppose you want a tour of the place.”

The tour is thorough and you do your best to entertain as much small talk as you can to keep their attention off of their antsy daughter and keep Dash’s attention off of her own thoughts. As much as you wanted to spend time with Rainbow, you couldn’t just shun her parents, nor did you want to. It was utterly fascinating how you could see tidbits of their daughter in them, everything from her eyes and mane to her different personality traits were easy to pick out. Their candid and honest attitudes put you at ease and made you want to like them despite their extravagant efforts to keep your pants on.

Conversation continues long after you run out of rooms to explore and stories to explain, and Dash gives up hope of teasing you or ever having privacy again. Before you know it, a whole day has passed and the moon once again rises over the frozen landscape to cast the whole mountainside in a brilliant white glow.

Dash sits beside you on a couch next to the fireplace in the parlor; the older pegasi sit across from you on a sofa of their own. The conversation drones on about this and that; you’d surprised yourself by how well you’d hit it off. Once you got past their bubbling exteriors they were really insightful, and so far, seemingly supportive of your union.

Your mare’s head bobs against your shoulder for the umpteenth time and she continues to fight the urge to fall asleep against you in front of her folks. Without thinking your hand moves to scratch her ears, an act she chooses not to protest. To you, it was the most natural thing in the world, and you’re not plagued with the slightest bit of anxiety as her parents look on.

“So tell me how you two met.” Bow asks, his foreleg around Windy as she stares off into the fire.

You’d expected a question like that, but actually thinking about it sets you back, “Well let’s see...I met her my second day after being here. I’d was getting interviewed by the Royal Guard and I saw her when the princess took me to get something to eat on my lunch break.” You chuckle a bit and look over at the nearly unconscious pony, “I just remember seeing her friendly grin out of a crowd of shocked faces.” The memory brings with it a rush of emotion; fear, sadness, and loneliness as well as hope, joy, and companionship, “Her hair was a mess and she looked like she’d just ran a marathon—”

“—Cross country flight.”

Everyone smiles except the lethargic pegasus, who turns her head for more neck scratches.

“They all wanted to know what I was, where I came from, what I was wearing...but she was the only one who wanted to know my name.” Your fingers still comb through her mane; her ears flicker when you graze them. You blink back a few tears as she collapses on your shoulder and you lay her head gently in your lap, her breathing grows deeper and her muscles relax once she feels the familiar comfort of your supportive embrace.

“Heheh, she didn’t seem to have much respect for the princess's authority, and she just started talking to me and following me around. I guess she found me interesting, and I, well...I’d never imagined someone as amazing as her could ever really exist until I met her. We became friends, then best friends, and now we’re here. It wasn’t easy to adjust but I wouldn’t trade a single bit of that pain, because she was there with me through it all. Everyday I try to give back a little, but that will never compare to what she’s given to me, and even if it did, it still wouldn’t be enough to show her how much I love her.”

The colors of her mane sort neatly under the caring scrutiny of your combing fingers, a second hand tends to her ear in a well practiced balance of soothing touch. When you look up you’re surprised to see tears streaming down Windy’s face, and a gentle smile curling her lips. She wipes her cheeks and tries to speak, but Bow takes the lead so she doesn’t have to choke.

“I’m sorry, she’s...we’ve both been overprotective at times. Sometimes we’re a bit too involved, but it’s only because we love her and want what’s best for her. From the excited letters and well, her lack of experience in the romantics, we were worried that she’d gotten too carried away. All we hoped was that she’d found someone who loved her as much as we do, and it’s obvious that you do, Anon.”

Windy sniffles and blinks a few times before meeting your eye, “Thank you so much.”

Now it’s your turn to let loose a tear, “Of course.”

Fire crackles in the silence, somewhere, a pocket of sap bursts with a pop—sending a cloud of glowing embers up the chimney. You remain like that for a minute, silently stroking the sleeping pony on your lap, sharing the scenery with those that brought her into this world.

Bow pats Windy’s shoulder, “I think it’s time we get to bed.”

She nods and shuffles to her hooves. She approaches you and reaches out for a hug, careful not to wake Dash. Her grip is tight, as if a lifetime’s worth of worry was expressing itself as thanks and relief. Her muzzle turns to plant a lingering kiss on your head before she breaks and heads off without a word. Bow pats your shoulder and winks, “Goodnight, son.”

The fire flickers for two as the stars twinkle through a parting cloud layer; you watch them through the window, contemplating the events of the day. This morning you were just trying to survive past the awkwardness and embarrassment, but now you’re glad things worked out the way they did. You came here to spend time with your mare, and you were still doing just that; her heat would be more difficult to work with, but you weren’t out of ideas yet.

You sit with your thoughts until the fire dies down to a pile of warm glowing embers. The couch is comfy enough so you snag a blanket and pull a sleeping Dash onto your chest to tuck both of you in. Her breathing remains steady and you come to rest in a very comfy position.

A shooting star catches your eye as you study the frozen landscape and you hold her a bit tighter, “I wish that I can make you the happiest mare in the world.”