Picasso >> Vendetta

Picasso | 5 Years | Stallion

No doubt that the mottled King had found himself worn after the previous night's events, having to retire early so to reserve his remaining energy in-case called towards the threat of danger. He had spent the night at the forest's edge, half ways out from beneath the trees' thick canopy but still able to remain in the shadows. The alert beast would see any dangers before they saw him, his caramel stare continuing to scan the area surrounding the family as other senses worked in unison to do the same. During the middle of the night he would find himself napping, unable to battle sleep any longer.

Upon morning the handsome lad was skipping about as per usual, his pink muzzle extended to each of his mares in turn but hoping to prolong his stay when finally finding himself in Vendetta's presence. How're you fairing? he'd whisper, his velvet lips looking to land a gentle smooch anywheres on her being.

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Vendetta | 6 years | Mare


A soft whisper, and gentle lips against her hide had pulled her out of deep thought. "I am fairing well my King. How do you find yourself fairing lately?" her response offered to strike up conversation with her old friend. It had felt like it had been sometime since the mare had, had the brute to herself, especially now with the growing herd. After all she could hog him for herself, mainly because Vendetta ad never been that way.


(So sorry I just realized you posted this)

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( You're fine! But I'm glad you finally did. (: )

Picasso
The freckled beast was glad to have attracted Vendetta's attention, it having been FAR TOO LONG since their last one-on-one interaction. He wanted to know how she was doing, how she was feeling, maybe even what she was thinking. The way she addressed him caused Picasso to pause a moment and study her, as though not expecting himself to have gained such a titled thought from her. Truly they were no longer simply friends, and learning this only drew him closer to the beautiful roan babe. Chest would be gently lent against her own if given the permission, his lips stretching towards her neck now to administer some affectionate grooms. Words slipping between the nom-like motions and causing lips to vibrate.

"Very well," he'd muse, a smile adorning pink muzzle for but a moment. No doubt she knew the reason of his joy. Well, just look! He was becoming a success! "I miss you though," he'd admit next, hoping to pull his snout towards her face now where they could lock eyes. Maybe even direct a lovey-dovey smooch at the brim of her nostrils. "Are you satisfied?" With life, with other mares, with him?

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Vendetta


The fae would soak in his affection, as she knew it could be awhile before they had one on one time again. She would return his loving grooms as their chest came to reside against each other, while very tentatively listening to his words. A soft smile would come to rest upon her features as they now locked eyes, and the words spoken of missing her had left his pink lips. She too had missed him, though she wouldn't need to say it as her affectionate gaze an actions said it for her.

"I believe I am satisfied..." would be replied as black stained lips moved over the stangs forehead, giving tender grooming kisses. But again she wouls trail into her own thought of statifaction. The bay mare would have been even more so satisfied had her own foals had made it to these lands with them.

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Picasso

The speckled brute found warmth in Vendetta's embrace, allowing himself to lean ever-so gently against the fleshy areas of her chest as they exchanged grooms. As per usual some number of satisfied grunts and hushed murmurs would leak from the Beau's lips as well, openly expressing the joy he found from both her presence and touch. It wasn't long before Picasso had pulled back however, and the mare's ebony lips glided across his boney forehead.

"Good," he'd respond simply, although a backward facing ear said that the stallion had fallen into thought. His mind raced back to the thought of her foals too; however, his thoughts were more centered on 'how to make Vendetta feel better'. Or.. forget them. Nay, they would never be forgotten. But she DID need a distraction. And if the King had missed his chance to cover her estrus? Well, he would just have to continue to provide his own loving and nurturing company. "I miss the fights between other bachelors and I," he'd groan next, as though trying to sway both their thoughts another direction. Herd life had its own spark, yes, but nothing as intense as an 'all out war'.

Lips would reach forwards in an attempt to pluck debris from the mare's forelock.

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Vendetta


She would relish this tender moment of affection they shared. Continuing to groom his mane and neck until he spoke. His cocked back ear would tell her that his mind was in thought, but of what she would not know. Whatever his thought was he seemed to have changed it, including changing their conversation. "I don't know if I will ever understand why you stallions enjoy feuding" would be spoke with an added chuckle.

As his lips met her forlock, her ear would soon cock back, now lost in her own thoughts once more. The images of foals danced though her mind, perhaps it was her estrus causing such emotions. Or maybe it was her own longing for another.

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(Oops, thanks!)
(OOC: Is vendetta in heat? I wasn't sure!)

A smile graced the stallion's lips when Vendetta answered, a similar chuckle produced. She was right, it WAS kind of weird.. Huh. "Ahh well," he started to explain with a laugh. "There's nothing quite like a good spar," he'd muse. Well, then again.. He looked Vendetta over. .. Wiggle brows.
Jk jk.

Upon beginning to rummage through his mare's forelock, it became quickly apparent that she had become lost in thought. (I used every form of become in that one sentence. Call the grammar police!) Instead of pulling back and questioning her thoughts though, his lips simply trailed across her forehead and cheeks next. Allowing her to mull over whatever it was that had captured her attention. Perhaps even supply her with even more much needed comfort. A hoof rested comfortably upon its tip, tail whacking hips in a half-hearted attempt to ward off any flies there.

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(OOC: Yes Vendetta is in heat since this is is going off of the following day of page 4)


It had left like eternity lost in her thoughts, though really it was more of a mere minute or so. As his lips trailed across forehead and cheeks a low satisfied hum would press against her ebony lips. While behind her, long tassels would coax away any insects attempting to land against her rump. Though by doing such an action she would be innocently spreading her aroma, an aroma that usually made stallions crazy. Vendetta had been so content with affection that she subconsciously letter her tail remain still, well until now...having completely forgotten her estrus.

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Picasso
(SORRY I MUST HAVE SEEN THIS ON THE PHONE AND FORGOT TO REPLY WHEN ON THE COMP)

His friend's satisfied hum only caused Picasso's groom-like antics to become more persistent, his teeth brought at an awkward angel to administer a kind, yet soft, scratch to the underside of her cheeks and upper throat. Surely those areas hadn't been touched by another in ages, if ever at all. And he would aim to provide relief to any itch that she called attention towards.

The moment that her tail began it's to 'n fro 'insect-battling' sway, the stallion was -indeed- over-whelmed with the now suddenly pungent odor. How it had not captivated his mind before was unbeknownst to him; but regardless, he would attempt to war against those thoughts for as long as humanly(horsely) possible. But in the same moment, allowing that held back desire to become ever-more obvious in a patient fashion.

For as long as Vendetta would allow him to, Picasso would continue to offer his comforting services. Each and every fiber of her parti-colored being would be picked at by the team of lip and teeth, a continuous massage-like motion performed as a vacuum was created in search of any unwelcome particles. Whatever could be found, be it Earthly grime or dry and crusted sweat, it would be erased from existence in this very moment. These substances condemned to rot in the stallion's unforgiving gut. If Vendetta were to speak, no doubt that Picasso would create a distance so that words could audibly find his mare's ears. But if she maintained a silence, this session would only continue. Muzzle would trail from cheek to neck, from neck to chest, brushing past her muscular limbs to find a resting point at her pointed shoulder blades. Here, a warm breath would spill onto the damsel's flesh, some type of never-before-used attempt at initiating a bit of romance. If anything, the speckled bloke had seemingly grown hesitant. Caught up in the decision of weither to move onward or await his friend's given permission. Perhaps, for now, he'd pick at whatever reachable areas he could find here. But surely it wouldn't be long before the path was continued down her well-proportioned spine. 'Less she aimed to distract her gentle suitor.

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Vendetta


She would allow for the grooming to continue, his lips and teeth reaching places that she herself did not even realize would need attention. Her low hum would continue, until he moved down to her shoulder blades. This action would spark a different rection from the mare, one that made her excited. Vendetta would turn her head to let her ebony lips nip gently at his hide, her tail movements becoming more conscious in an aim to arouse him slightly.

Hips would turn now, tail flicking up against his moist nostrils, becoming quite the tease now. If he moved forward, she would too. Taking a few quick trotting steps away, only to look over her shoulder with a seductive glance.


(Wow this post is bad :( )

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Picasso

The nibble in which she directed to Picasso's side caused him to take a pause from her full body massage, but only for a moment as peach muzzle sought out her own to offer a gentle moment of contact. A sweety tune soon followed, another muffled noise that remained trapped between firmly pressed lips. Afterward the stallion would swiftly return his up-most attention to the ballerina's shoulders, daring to take a forwards step and begin to guide his lips onto her spine. They would continue down if allowed, pausing on the occasion to award more attention to certain areas, lingering with an offered chance for his childhood friend to refuse the actions. Oh, but it didn't seem like she wanted to!

Surely these two had something going on much deeper than what the surface could reveal. Or perhaps t'was all just in Picasso's head alone. The freckled beast felt an attraction to her unlike to any other in their gang, drawn in like magnet by the many'a years remembrance. Not to mention that his babe was absolutely gorgeous. In this moment he made sure to pay attention to each and every detail of her glorious frameworks. Lips mapped out every delicate curve as they investigated her thoroughly, feeling at every feminine attribute, forcing into memory every unique and/or imperfect spot discovered throughout her roaned coat. Man 'o man.

When the mare's tail began a more calculated sway, Picasso was finally drawn from his intense daze. .. Or was it her smell that had originally tossed him into said thoughts? Regardless, the eager gentleman had recaptured his focus. Lips trailed down until meeting those scrumptious hindquarters, jaws falling agape as his senses had became immediately overpowered by her pungent odors. Oh, no doubt he was aroused! And it was then that she turned her hips into him, a low squeal erupting from lungs as a single front leg tried for her hips. But oop, off she went.

No doubt her King would trail her, a wordless murmur caught on his lips as she practically demanded persistence from him. Before Vendetta could even toss that curious look over her shoulders, Picasso would already be looking to press his white chest firm against her quarters. Never having allowed the lost of space. A coy grin would form, a single ear turned backward in a seemingly questionable fashion. And again, his hoof would have stretched toward one of her back ones, to offer an innocent tap tap tap. That's.. if she hadn't trotted aways again! Words were useless. Body language was all that was needed.

(You're the decider of when to fade.)

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Vendetta


Perhaps there was more between them, and attraction for one another that went deeper than what either had said. But then again would it really need to be said? The two had grown together, there had to be more then just a mutual friendship that connected the two..right? Either way in this moment, hormones would be controlling them both, more or less.

His persistent way though would soon get him his way. She couldn't play hard to get for long. After all Vendetta wanted the same thing he did. At his second approach of her hindquarters, and his gentle over tap, the bay roan wouls find herself remaining still. A soft puff of air would exit her nostrils, now condoning his next actions


(Fadey fade fade)

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Picasso

Whatever the attraction was, it was definitely there. And although it perhaps stemmed from their early childhood, Picasso would hope for its growth as their futures played out.

Given a somewhat obvious 'green light', the stallions current mission would finally find competition. What started as a gentle tap against Vendettas legs quickly became an ascending climb of his own. The beasts weight would be given onto her more feminine structured backside, no doubt study and well-balanced, and instincts would take full control over both the actions and thoughts made to follow. What needed doing would be done, the mare's scent covered and her insides blessed with a hopefully successful seed.
(Fade)

Upon dismounting from her top, after a moment taken to catch his breath, it would seem as though Picasso wasn't yet ready to forsaken his Juliet. Lips would trail her sides until he appeared at her front, a nuzzle directed towards Vendettas cheek to show his growing adoration for her. "I love you," he'd admit under his breath with a whisper, for her ears only.

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I didn't see your fade fade you must have edited it after!

Woopty doo

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