"Lewd Moneysisters (And Jeeves) (Eternally WIP)"
By Mr_Sympathy (https://pastebin.com/u/Mr_Sympathy)

URL: https://pastebin.com/sJCerF2C
Created on: Tuesday 15th of August 2017 05:26:50 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 11:01:28 PM UTC


Copper and Nickel found it hard to resist kissing one another when things got this heated, but they managed.
It helped that each had no idea the other wanted it too.
The stallion the sisters met that night, 'Turnstile',  wasn't particularly interesting to them beyond his ownership of a penis - currently sliding in and out of the one pink part of Nickel's grey anatomy with the abandon of a drunk celebrating his good fortune - and a tongue - being practically eroded by the opening of Copper's dripping passage as she slid back and forth across his face with a lust she would only mostly-satisfy that night. This was true of the lust both sisters felt on most nights, for satisfaction and self-denial are bitter enemies, and neither one had any real awareness of how badly their marehoods ached for the touch of their counterpart.
The twins' bodies were mirror images of one another - save that Copper was a deep, lustful red to Nickel's light, equally-lustful silver - young, taut, supple, and with the self-evident ability to lure in male after male after male.
Never females. That was their only rule. Never mind that each one treated these random threesomes as a de facto way to make love to the other. Never mind the pleasure Nickel got was from seeing Copper's - and she'd never pull the figurative silk from her eyes recognize it for the incestual lust it was, preferring instead to think of it as just a signal for her to relax and enjoy the efforts of the male they had that night. And never mind Copper enjoyed herself most when thinking of either herself and the night's hookup as one body, fucking her sister, or her sister and the night's hookup as one body, fucking her.
The fleshy vibrator between them mostly thought about how lucky he was that two mares were all over him like this.
Their austere bedroom, bought and furnished with the copious cash of their family, seemed to creak and groan in unison with them. Walls ran wet black with pink piping, carpet plush and trim with the opposite scheme, and furniture of all colors, but always in an unmistakably modern style; the only reason it didn't all look dyed white with the fluids of past evenings is that ponies don't have blacklights for eyes - and that the family had learned to not bring such things into Copper and Nickel's shared bedroom.
Moans in two voices bounced off the austere walls of their the room - one belonged to Turnstile, simple in its revelry, and the other was the combined pitch of two lovers afraid to confess their love even to themselves.
 
 
**** **** **** ****
 
Dime had long since lost her hesitance about her new coltfriend.
He wasn't here tonight - off plying his trade in the land of the Minotaurs. The cream-coated mare recalled how excited he was to spend time in this new place, and how they mutually agreed in silence to make the last night they had before his return a memorable one - and make sure he got on that plane quite exhausted.
But tonight, Dime had only her first love, Lefty, for company.
Lefty had been thoughtful enough to prepare a few mementos of the missing stallion for her - almost as if she were making love to *him*, and not cheating on him with her left hoof. They were laid out across the foot of her bed, as if they were a crowd of fans clamoring for the attention of some celebrity. And lewdly clamoring at that. A few photos - classy - a locket - flush with the amorous memories of what the couple did to one another the night they bought it - and, and this one was new, lyrics sheets of the music her absent coltfriend had written. These caused Dime no small bit of hesitation after meeting him, for they may have had clever wordplay, and even she could detect the strong, simple rhythm behind them, but they were, down to the last, the crassest writings Dime had ever laid eyes on. Innuendos, references to genitals, praise of casual sex - the lyrics Jammy Pop had left for Dime contained all sorts of deplorable things that were completely unfit for a proper lady such as herself.
But as one edge of her perennial lover Lefty traced across her right vaginal lip, she knew she didn't mind.
It wasn't as if the lewd writings were a turn-on either, but...the memories were. They way he held her, the way he spoke to her, and she to him...Lefty was already picking up steam.
 
 
She wanted to cry out, but she forced herself to simply make a small squeak instead.
She missed him.