My Spurty Pony~

Getting back to snuggling, I'd love to be your unicorn stallion with a swollen donut for you to play with

 

I'd play with your hole constantly, teasing a finger in and out and stretching it as you clenched and moaned.

 

Would you stroke my mane and tell me what a good little pony I was as your teasing got my cock spilling out of its sheath and swelling larger as it grew hard?

 

I'd even boop your nose and give you a soft kiss as your pride grew fatter and more turgid by the second. And when you're fully erect and aching for my deft touch I'll keep you in a tight bear hug.

After, of course, passing a hand over your thick balls and letting you taste your own arousal off my fingers.

 

I'd suckle every last musky drop of sweat off of you and squirm in your grip, eager to either grind my erection against you or get your fingers deep enough that you'd be massaging my prostate. All the while I'd be gasping and moaning, softly begging you to use me. To have your way with my trembling flesh and slake your lusts. To give me the pleasure of pleasing you.

 

Well the fun can't last forever. A stallion has needs after all. But you're the main feature here; why would you want it over so soon?

Thrusting two more fingers into that fat ring, I wriggle them about and feel you grip and massage them with lust-driven muscles. Not too deep for now, but the occassional brush against your prostate sends lightning through you.

Your shaft, as attractive as it may be, is on a hair trigger. A rough hand squeezing it's base shut should keep you from spurting too quickly.

And your horn. My little pet, your horn is a wonderful tool. Smooth and silky to the touch, it's also sensitive enough to force your bloated ponycock out when I rub it. Tonight though, I plunge my mouth over it's curves, taking care to whip my tongue around it's grooves as much as possible.

 

My horn is a direct line to my brain, and feeling your tongue work around it and along its shallow grooves would get me quivering. My eyes would roll into the back of my head and you'd be able to see my thick balls clench and spasm in vain, desperate to empty their massive load yet denied by your hand clamped tight around my base. Every brush against my prostate would force a whimpering moan from my open mouth and a tight clench of my powerful anus around your hand. Your message clearly breaking through my lust-addled mind, you'd feel a warmth and tingle on your tongue as my horn glowed faintly, a pink silk ribbon floating over and slowly descending below your hand on my cock. Deftly it would encircle my girth and pull tight into a big ribbon just below your hand. A present wrapped up, all for you~

 

Slowly unwrapping my clutch of your girth, the ribbon holds true and tight. Taking advantage of your handiwork to drop my hand to your boiling cumtanks, I brush my fingers over the surface. I savor the tension and pressure responding to each touch, and can feel every reaction your overstimulated body gives. Even when I lift up a thick ball in my palm, the pleading tugs never stop.

Taking a moment to breath in the sticky stench of pent-up desire, I ignore my own violently straining erection even as it presses into your firm cheeks. Angry at my own self-denial, I thrust all four fingers deep within you, thumb outlining the contours of your oversized donut.

With nothing left to do but feel your churning cum, my free hand glides up your chest and tracing the small peaks of muscle developed from countless fuck-sprees. I touch a finger to your heart. As I tap it once, I hum lovingly around your horn. That same finger slips out to feel the massive flare of your coltcock. And as I tap it once, I can't help but giggle absurdly. You. Heart. Cock.

 

Your hand on my roiling nuts makes me quiver as I fall deeper into my submission to you. Do I really want to cum? Don't good ponies build up a big load in their testes for their master? Don't they try to get as swollen and musky as they can for their master? I do so want to be a good little pony. I'm very glad that ribbon is there or else I'd spurt out all the wonderfully thickening spunk I have boiling inside my gurgling nuts. Yes, I wouldn't want to waste a dollop of my viscous seed if my master didn't want me to. Nor lose out on all the extra sweat my balls are dripping with. Their stink is even getting to me, making me bloat up with extra spunk.

The additional fingers in my ass make me jerk slightly, my hips bucking as my balls roll around in your other hand. Feeling you stretch me out and press your own erection roughly into my rump makes me unable to resist telekinetically lowering your fly. I hope you won't think I'm being bad, but master shouldn't have to keep his cum all bottled up inside. Master should empty it freely wherever he wants. And as much as he wants. All these thoughts of his cum send my magic cockwards, making your erection tingle as I try to resist enhancing you without permission.

 

Your squirming and base lusts start burning a hole into my thoughts. The atmosphere of cloying, warm sweat and burning arousal clouds my higher thoughts. The need to breed become more and more of my mind... But at least I can manage for a little while.

With a few final swipes of your thick and juicy taint with my thumb, I wrap it into my palm and push incessantly into your gaping hole. Slick with lube and sweat it slides in almost effortlessly, and I find my wrist being sucked at by your greedy, whorish anus. My muscles taut and strained, I push it around and feel your walls, looking for that sweet spot which leaves you splooging glue-thick coltcream every time. Small movements, but to you they're the world.

As my breathing quickens, taking in even more of the lust saturating the room, I push down on your horn and "hilt". My tongue can't reach everything, but I've learned to use my whole mouth to stimulate poor little ponies like you. Even as the strong taste of the arcane fizzles throughout my head like a sour firecracker, I can't stop giving you your first, and deepest, hornjob.

My finger digs into your bulging flare as you wrap my loosened shaft in your magic, the sensation blanking my mind and sending a spasm through my body. My limbs shake uncontrollably and my eyes bore a hole into your mane. For a second, I can't think. But I know that you're beautiful. Coming down from my high, I feel... unsatisfied. Like I haven't come for weeks and am teeming to come into any warm hole that presents itself. Feeling the magic reaching a peak on my tongue, I bore down with renewed energy. Playing your prostate like a fiddle, my other hand rushes down to your massive balls, aiming the steel-hard horsecock straight at our faces. They're heavier than they've ever been and painfully hot as I knead mercilessly. Even the copious sweat, it's funk invading every pore, doesn't help when I twist and stroke and mold those massive testicles.

But somewhere in an endless tide of sensations is a small one: the feeling of silky ribbon whipping against my arm.

 

As your entire fist pushes into my greedy pucker I let loose a deep, guttural moan of lust. Each pound into my pony prostate makes my groan rise in volume and pitch until I'm wailing and squirming in your grasp. Every quick breath I suck in between cries brings with it the smell and taste of my own reeking balls, my stench heightening my arousal and getting my swollen testes churning with untold volumes of nearly gelatinous cum.

The feeling of my horn completely inside your hot mouth makes my spell sputter and spark, my lust-addled brain losing concentration as it simultaneously begins fantasizing uncontrollably, the enchantment jerking and fizzling in almost random directions around your shaft. Your finger digging into my urethra doesn't help, my body shuddering as I lose sight of the world around me, everything contracting into you, me, your tongue swirling around my horn and your fist slamming into my gaping ass. When your hand slips down to knead and massage my balls I nearly lose consciousness from the flood of pleasure drowning my mind.

When that ribbon snaps free my frenzied brain treats it as implicit permission from my master to cum. A fat bulge swells up at the base of my cock, rising sluggishly as my thickened load stretches out more and more of my urethra. Surging past my medial ring it moves upwards towards my engorged flare, the swollen knot of flesh beating in time with my racing heart. If either of us could see straight, we'd be able to watch as my cocktip yawns open around an inch and a half thick rope of jelly-like semen before our vision would be painted white by it. My first spurt lasts for nearly half a minute, a deluge of stinking seed geysering from my tip like a firehose of sperm. It clogs up my mouth as it hangs open in need and I gulp it down eagerly. The rest thoroughly coats our faces and most of my upper body as it squirts past to splatter all over the wall behind us. Minutes pass as my climax continues, spunk reeking of musk and my own cloying odor gushing from my spasming erection over and over, my ass holding your fist completely still with its powerful grip.

When I finally come down from my messy climax, cum dripping from the entire front half of my body and caked on nearly an inch thick, I weakly wipe away the seed slathered all over my eyes and blink a few times. What greets me is the throbbing monster between your legs, rising feet into the air and drooling pre heavily. It's a twisted paragon of human and equine phalluses, possessing both a meaty medial ring and a loose, dangling foreskin. The massive head hidden within looks to be a perfect blend of pony and man, the mushroom-like glans having a pronounced ring like the edge of a flare as well as the puckering urethral mouth common to larger horsecocks.

 

-----

 

And of course I'd let my stallion have a go at my ass. I'm not training for nothing. In fact... I'm kinda jealous at how easily you fit your massive plugs in and then swagger through the room, your flare only dripping a little at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

 

Ah, those plugs. I love it when you let me sit on the couch next to you, my turgid erection pinned below me as I swallow hard around your girth with a particularly large plug stuffed inside me. I can't help myself, clenching and flexing my ass and making it look like that heavy ring of muscle is suckling on the hard rubber of the toy embedded inside it much like a babe with his thumb in his mouth.

 

It's not like I can help watching those massive tools sink into you. It's mesmerising the way that you distend around their smooth surfaces and fight the urge to grip tight onto them. Every time you fail and clench around their sloping sides, shooting it out of that thick donut, means another chance to stuff it back in. A little more lube, a little more force, and some light teasing lets the toy lock into your ass. A soft kiss onto your softly churning sack is reward enough for now.

 

What would you do if you came home and caught me with a vacuum cup on my rear, the swollen flesh pressed up against the inside of the clear plastic far larger than you remember? I know I'd stammer to explain myself and inevitably reveal the thick, flexible sound stretching out my urethra and keeping all my cum bottled up until I was calm enough to swiftly remove it.

 

-----

 

Honestly, I'm really glad that your passion for teasing isn't to the point that I'm helplessly swollen for days at a time. Like I said, edging and denial is fun proportional to the size of the later climax.

I mean, an occasional swelling as a present for you is good. Spending a long weekend teasing myself and staying on edge as I stay hydrated and focused on bloating my musky nuts up with spunk so you can come home to my sweating balls tied up with a big bow and stammering out a trembling request for you to unwrap your present would be nice. But only every so often

 

Oh of course. I couldn't keep my big lovey stallion on edge forever. That would be almost cruel.

Regular teasing, a lusty word or an ear nibble wouldn't be out of hand, but seeing your shaft pump it's way out of your sheath as I tickled your fleshy taint? That's just fun to do. And when you're splayed on the couch, presenting your aching sex to me and begging for release... I can't deny you for long. Even if I challenge myself to make you splatter your goopy cream all over yourself only by sucking on your swelling testes, I make a point to finish you off.

Well, unless you've been a bad stallion. Then you get that cock tied to your belly, helpless in your arousal to please yourself. And good unicorn stallions don't use their magic on themselves without permission.

 

That wouldn't be too much of a challenge - my balls are very sensitive. Almost as sensitive as my swollen pucker or that little spot right below my thick flare. I'd just hope that sometimes you'd let me deeply kiss my broad cockhead so I could gulp down that gooey sperm as it gushed from my erection.

I try my best to be a good stallion for you. Not just to avoid writhing in pent up need, flexing hard in a futile attempt to slap yet denied enough pleasure to actually climax, but because deep down I want to do right by you. Such a caring master deserves the very best unicorn to snuggle, suckle, fuck and get reamed by. A loving makeout session as both our cocks drool thick seed after a particularly messy hour of debauched sex is greater than gallons of viscous spunk geysering from my engorged flare any day.

 

...Damn it. I felt that one.