"How about a hoofjob instead? Would that satisfy your needs?"
>You say with a lower, sultrier voice as you move down his chest, pawing a little at Fire's crotch.
>Convincing.
>Your hoof bumps gently into the soft flesh, it gliding easily under hoof.
>He bites his lip again, and moans slightly at your light touch.
>"A-Alright, I suppose that'll suffice. A-And Thank you Water, I really did need somepony to douse my flame tonight..."
>He says with a grin, then backs up against the front of the bed, spreading his legs.
>You take a deep breath and slink towards him across the floor.
>After so long, it’s almost like you’d forgotten what a stallion’s pride and joy looked like.
>But remember, you're just keeping his suspicions to an absolute minimum so you can get out and inform Kis of your findings.
>And it was a pretty nice night, for all you heard about him he turned out to be a pretty good guy.
>Maybe even could have been a friend, in a different situation.
"It's... Pretty."
>You say unconsciously, trying to complement him.
>"P-Pretty? That's... Not normally an adjective you'd assign to somepony's package, but thank you!"
>He tussles your mane and chuckles, and you feel yourself going beet red.
>To cover your embarrassment you begin nuzzling your muzzle against his chest and draw a hoof to the base of his rod, leaving it there for the time being.
>As you move up his chest your hoof follows, dragging slowly upwards and faintly brushing his bare skin with your fur.
>He giggles drunkenly, which you quickly silence with a kiss and a smile, gently massaging his tip.
>Hopefully that feels good.
>His body trembles a little at this interaction, and you take a note that the tip's pretty sensitive.
>After spending a minute or so locking lips, you slowly move back down to his crotch.
>Your travel includes a reverse of your nuzzles, until you eventually plant the side of your head into the crook of his thigh.
>You take a deep breath, and nce again your mouth decides to run away with you,
“H-Hey… I-Is big a-uh better complement than pretty?"
>You blurt out, quickly slapping your hoof back over your mouth.
>Really need to watch your mouth when you drink.
>This time, Fire bursts into laughter as you curl up, and he takes the liberty of bumping his mast up against your snout.
>You scrunch up and give it a death stare at it bonks you time and again, Fire looking on with what seems to be childish bemusement.
>There's butterflies in your stomach, and while a safe course of action, maybe this wasn't the best way out of this awkward situation.
>Touching some stallion’s rod is… Weird, but fine.
>When you’ve got to stroke it, stare him in the eyes and look like you’re having a good time all the while, it’s a whole different ball game.
>Hey, at least there’s a pair of balls for you to focus on here, the comfort of even numbers another reason to help him out.

>You now place a hoof at the bottom.
>It’s got a different feel than the tip, a little fuzzy at the base, and less smooth.
>Slowly, you slide upwards with the soft, back part of your hoof, and look to Fire for approval.
>He nods, and you smile back, returning to the work at hoof.
>It’s a strange motion working his rod, and for the moment you’re just starting with gripping the base.
>Deep breaths Sh-Twitch, deep breaths.
>You now gently stroke the midsection of his rod and study his expression intently, looking for any signs of discomfort or pleasure.
>As much as you’ve got to look happy, he’s got to feel it too.
>He bites his lip a little and chuckles,
>”You look cute like that…”
>Your tongue had been sticking out, pressed up against your upper lip in a determined manner, which he bumps with a hoof before you recoil back.
>He laughs again and you blush, having it make a quick retreat behind the white walls of your teeth, safe from ridicule.
>Eyes down and cheeks red, you up your pace as a distraction, which prompts a sharp intake of breath from the stallion above.
>You’re pretty good at this…
>Or at least, judging ponies and their emotions.
>But after a minute or so of this treatment, Fire seems to begin getting a little complacent with his current standing, and so you decide to try out something new.
>Variable speed and pressure.

>At first, you speed up drastically, which prompts another sharp intake of breath from your stallion above.
>All you can think about is how his danglies are clapping against his crotch, and wondering if that hurts him at all.
>Clearly not, as his breathing has been getting rather quick and you’ve gotten some moans of pleasure out of him, but it’s an odd thing to ponder.
>Realizing your distraction, you give him another playful smirk before slowing down, down to a pace below even your starting speed.
>There’s a small “Aw…”
>From above and an incline with one of his hooves to pick up the pace again.
>You flat out refuse, keeping at your same slow and steady pace.
>This time, you’re adding pressure.
>Each stroke is one gradation harder than the last, each rub slightly stronger.
>It takes a while and a few annoyed sighs from Fire (as well as few mischievous grins on your part) for him to notice this trend.
>At this point, he suddenly becomes very intrigued in your actions again, which is a rather amusing set of expressions to watch cross over his face.
>It’s an odd feeling, having a pony sitting like putty in your hooves, for you to shape and mold their emotions and thoughts however you like.
>Both metaphorically and literally, it’s what you feel like right now.
>Back to the job, you give your mane seductive shake and shoot off a wink to Fire.
>What you hope is seductive, at least.
>You’ve now found an optimal pressure for him through trial and error, one that he slightly thrusts against with each excruciating stroke on your part.
>Now for the speed.
>Once again, you begin bringing up the tempo of your hoof’s beats, driving it up and down the mizzenmast and giving it a good polish.
>With this combination of both speed, pressure, and playfulness from you, Fire looks just about ready to burst.
>With each passing second, his breathing labors a little, his face grows a bit more red, his hilt trembling slightly in grasp.
>Small hiccups and grunts emerge more and more often, with a few small moans to punctuate each level of pleasure.
>”N-Nearly there…”
>He spits out, looking on you with an expression of absolute lust.
>Guess you’re doing your job right.
>Being the apple of somepony’s eye is never a position you’ve been in, but damn does it feel good.
>Still weird to get to this position, but you wouldn’t say flirting wasn’t fun, or that you had a bad night.
>Just odd, overall.

>But your mind quickly drags you from that pleasant thought to another, less appealing one.
>Stallions have a big finish.
>Not like mares, where it’s just a bit leaky sometimes, and you’ve got to wash up.
>No, they’ve got some serious power behind their fluids.
>What are you going to do then?
>Suddenly, Fire’s grunts and thrusts start pushing with real force, as if he’d been saving up for a last sprint.
>”A-Almost…”
>He stammers, eyes shut, jaw clamped in restraint.
>Shakily, you keep up the pace, fearful of the next leg of this hoofrace.
>There’s a real tension hanging in the room now, Fire’s muscles all at the ready, pressing him back against the bed.
>Each stroke brings a sense of fear, of the unknown, a sense of dread creeping over you.
>Normally, your mind would be racing to find a solution, but everything’s a bit cloudy right now.
>Earlier drinks couldn’t have been too helpful to your problem-solving.
>On a particularly powerful thrust, he groans, and after a second, relaxes back against the bed.
>The room’s tension snaps, and in a wild panic to prevent an embarrassing mess, you clamp your mouth over his tip, giving it an inadvertent couple of licks.
>It surprisingly doesn’t taste bad at all, just like skin.
>But what follows isn’t as neutral a taste.
>Something warm spills out over your tongue, and for a second, you taste nothing.
>It’s thick, goopy, and kinda sticky.
>Then an overpowering taste bitter and salty flavor takes over, and you have to prevent yourself from retching it up.
>With only the horrid thought of making a mess in your mind, you gulp down the mixture, gagging a little as it trickles down your throat.
>It slides a little as it goes down, and you feel every last warm drop slide through your esophagus, sending unpleasant shivers up and down your spine.
>An icky aftertaste remains behind too, which you try to remove with some smacking to no avail.

>You then notice Fire, giving you a look of happy lust, and your mind snaps back to reality.
>You’ve still got to play the part, no matter what you’d just gone through.
>Lips still over his head, you jerk a few more times before popping off and giving him another wink.
>After a few more final stokes, a bead of white appears at his tip again, and to match it a bead of sweat on your forehead.
>More?
>You’d thought you were done after that ordeal, but it seems there’s still more to slog through tonight.
>Tentative, you pick it up with the tip of your tongue and pass it down.
>The same flavor, albeit less biting this time, overtakes your tastebuds and you moan a little as it goes down.
>Hopefully Fire thought it was a lustful one.
>Popping off for the second time, you sigh and travel up to Fire’s lips.
>He pulls you into another kiss, but you’re not sure how long you can keep this charade up anymore.
>The way you dealt with his photo finish sucked a lot of the “fun” you were having out of this, and you feel kind of odd inside.
>Thankfully, it’s a quick one, and you relax against Fire’s shoulders, spent.
>He draws you into a hug, which you promptly return, sighing softly into his fur.
>In a surprising display of strength, he struggles to his back hooves and shifts around, rolling you onto the bed before collapsing back onto his normal four.
>You slide under the covers, welcoming sleep, and Fire happily slips in behind you.
>You’re a little spoon to him, and he drags you into a soft hug, one you gladly take.
>He notices your exhaustion and whispers,
>”Not used to that sort of thing, are you… Guess it explains the nervousness. It was great, I promise Water.”
>He chuckles, before giving you a small kiss on the cheek and positioning you up against his chest.
>His halfsie pokes into your back, on the edge of slipping beneath your cheeks and through your thighs.
>In a way, it's a compliment.
>Not every mare can get a fashion designer who's around stunning models every day going in bed, and you’re proud of yourself for being able to do so.
>Oddly.
>But there’s a tinge of shame with this victory tonight, that bitter flavor still tingling on your tastebuds as you drift away into unconsciousness.
>Being happy, exhausted, prideful and ashamed is a strange emotional combination to deal with, and you’re glad sleep wrenches thought from your grasp before you can dwell on it too long.