No Fly Zone [Anon&Spitfire]

>Stop Two of Five on the Wonderbolts’ Equestria Tour
>The City of Fillydelphia
>It had come as a surprise when, a little over a week ago, Captain Spitfire asked you if you’d like to accompany the traveling troop on a mini-tour performance series across Equestria.
>Five cities in just under two weeks.
>Naturally, you had jumped at the opportunity, being a newcomer and curious to see what the world offered.
>It was better than sitting around the palace, waiting for a way home to find itself at any rate.
>Well, that’s what you’d thought initially…
>You sigh and kick your legs in the air again, leaning back into the soft embrace of the overstuffed couch.
>The suite was nice, though you weren’t really sure why Spitfire had asked you to board up with her on the trip, but really.
>Here you are in one of the most historic cities in Equestria, and you can’t even leave because the snob at the front desk refuses to hand out more than one key per room.
>The flight mare had been strangely weird about you leaving with her too, insisting that if you weren’t going to accompany her to the flight test, it would be better for you to stay here.
>“Don’t want you getting lost in the big city!” she’d said.
>Puffing your cheeks out, you again consider how you fell for that.
>It’s not like you don’t stand out, and over, the crowd.
>Besides, why couldn’t you set up a place to meet later?
>All in all, it’s rather frustrating but she’ll be back soon and maybe then she can take you out into Fillydelphia proper.
>The door clicks and chunks as you finish the thought, causing you to bolt up right like a dog on garbage day.
>Grinning, you turn towards the entrance and wait and after a few more seconds Spitfire drags herself inside, looking every bit the worn out superstar.

>The muscles along her back and near her wings are slightly swollen from training tales told long before you arrived in Equestria, her mane and coat are still awry in places from the incredible speeds she achieves in the air.
>As she kicks the door closed behind her, you catch a whiff of soap and water; a clean scent lingering still from her post-performance shower.
>Stumbling over to the couch, she grins at you.
>“Hey Sport.”
>With a grin, you tap your index finger against your forehead at a slight angle
“Evenin’ Cap. Ready to see what the city has to offer?”
>Spitfire’s shoulders sag as she offers up a weak smile.
>“Hey, you know, I would except I’m gassed after training today.”
>You feel your heart drop in your chest.
>No way…
>The conciliatory Captain shrugs sheepishly.
>“I know you were probably looking forward to hitting the street but, if it’s any help, there’s really not that much to see in Filly anyway.”
>Well that’s not true.
>But it’s not like you can force her to come along.
>Then again, you don’t really need her to.
“Hey.”
>Spitfire perks up as you hold out your hand.
“If you’re not up to go out, gimme the key and I’ll do some exploring on my own.”
>And just like that she falls back into her almost dead-eyed stare.
>“Really? I was just thinking that, you know, we could stay inside and rest up for a while.”
“Forgive me Cap, but I’ve been in this hole all day and I’m itching to get some walking done. So, would you kindly…”
>Your voice trails off as you flex your fingers a few times.
>She shifts her eyes between your face and your hand, back and forth, before finally sighing and dropping the key into your palm.
>“All right, but could you do something for me before you go?”
“Hmm, yeah, sure?”
>Whoops.
>You bite your lip as soon as the words escape.
>Even as you realize your mistake, Spitfire’s face lights up.

>“The performance isn’t for another four hours and I could really use a nap. So, would you mind laying here with me for a while, just until I fall asleep?”
>Stupid stunt mare.
>Cutting into your town time.
>Rolling your eyes, you nod.
“Yeah, sure, okay; but I get to be the big spoon and you have to lay down facing the couch.”
>There’s no way you’re going to have a repeat of Manehatten where she pinned you down the whole while.
>“Deal!”
>With an energy you weren’t sure she had, Spitfire bounces over the back of the couch and nuzzles up next to you.
>Despite the fact that it feels incredibly awkward to be intimate with the Captain, she doesn’t seem to mind in the least so you roll with it as best you can.
>The two of you twist and squirm, laying back down on the couch.
>You drape your arm over her body, just underneath her wing.
>Spitfire snuggles back, planting her flank against your belly.
>The air around you is filled with the subtle scent of peaches and cinnamon, and the Captain’s mane, of course.
>It’s a little obnoxious, but it’s just for a little while, so you may as well enjoy the warmth.
>She looks pretty tired; it should only take a few minutes before sh-
>“So, we were flying today and one of the fliers got distracted and…”
>Oh no.
>Hell no.
>She’s feeling up to talking.
>That means she’s going to be awake forever.
>You can see the landmarks of Fillydelphia flashing before your eyes as they fade into the darkness.
>Another missed opportunity.
>How can you let this one slip away too?
>Cap’s still going on about her teammates and the venue and everything else under the sun.
>Well, if she’s not tired yet, you’ll just have to wear her out.
>Despite your shifting, Spitfire seems too engrossed in telling her story to notice as you move your head towards her middle.
>In fact, she doesn’t stop speaking until you take a deep breath; you watch as her eyes flit down towards you.

>“So I took Soarin aside and I told hi- Anon? What are you doi-”
>Too late.
>Pressing your lips against her barrel, you let loose with a tremendous BRAAAP from your lips.
>In an instant, the collected Captain is reduced to a squirming, giggly mess, her wings flaring out as she flaps in an attempt to escape.
>Not today!
>You tighten your arm encircling her, laughing as she tries to squirm, kick, and flap her way to freedom.
“No please, continue your story, Spits, I was so deeply engrossed.”
>And again you take a breath before planting your lips on her again and making another disgusting noise.
>Any sense of pride or presence the yellow mare had before falls away immediately.
>“Ah-non, st-stop!”
>She giggles as she flails, unable to restrain herself anymore.
>Fat chance of that, she’s still wound up.
>You won’t stop until she’s a limp mess of Wonderbolt!
>But she’s a professional athlete; belly braps aren’t going to be enough.
>If you can hit her somewhere more sensitive…
>Remembering her constant warnings about her wings, you focus your attention on the joint connecting her wing to her back.
>As she realizes where you are, the Captain seems to find a moment of clarity, her eyes wide with terror.
>“Anonymous, n-”
>BRAAAP!!!
>“A-AHHH!”
>Mm, the sound of victory.
>Spitfire’s limbs jerk out and renew their frustrated efforts.
>She’s really trying to squirm away now.
>Must mean that you’re close to breaking her Wonderbolt Willpower
>Lifting your head, you cry out.
“Never give up! Never surrender!”
>And then you go down again, relentlessly buzzing your lips against her sensitive joint.
>After the third, her squeals reach a crescendo and she begins to relax.
>After the seventh, her kicks have been reduced to weak thuds against your thighs.
>By the time you reach a dozen, the mare has gone completely limp in your arm.
>And that’s where you stop.

>For several long moments you lie there with the sporty mare, both of your breathing deeply.
>Content that she’s not going to come after you, you pull yourself away and get to your feet.
>Stretching your arms over your head, you smirk down at the wounded warrior.
“Don’t mess with the best, Cap. I know two hundred different ways to take you out with just my bare hands.”
>She mumbles something into the couch cushions that you can’t really make out, but whatever, you’ve got a city to see!
>Waving over your shoulder, you call back.
“I’ll be sure to come by before the show starts!”
>As you walk out of the suite, you don’t hear Spitfire muttering to herself as she rubs her swollen lower lips.
>“St-stupid human, that was a bedside record…”
>Today was an oblivious kind of day.