The echoing sounds of squeaking sneakers and muffled grunts bounced off the walls of the Ponyville School Gymnasium as Rumble ducked down to the ground. All around him, the senior class colts—stallions now, Rumble thought resentfully—leapt and ran and had fun, but no, his shoes would not leave him alone. He took a knee, grunting himself as he eyed his untied shoelace with annoyance born of repetition.

"Damn thing won't stay tied," he all but snarled, picking up both ends in his fingers. Somewhat awkwardly, he began the motion of looping them together, the sounds of the other students still resonating around him.

"Rumble!" Bulk Biceps, the gym teacher, hollered at him from the bleachers. "Off the ground!"

"Just tyin' my shoes!" he shot back. Frowning, Rumble turned back to try to focus on his task. He wiggled his toes, feeling the tightness of his shoe.

That persistent wriggling motion, though, made certain other muscles in his leg flex and bulge as well. Rumble winced as his right thigh squeezed and clenched, the muscle brushing up against the rough fabric protruding from his crotch. There, just about two-thirds up from his knees, a fat, round bulge strained noticeably against the inadequate holster of his gym shorts.

Rumble bit his lip in focus, and tried to spread his legs a little wider, to gain a little freedom. The abrupt release of pressure from his already awakening package, though, sent a shiver of need through his body, his overstuffed groin throbbing with a sudden heat and tenderness. "Not here," he mumbled in soft panic, squinting down at his bulging crotch. "Not where everyone can see."

He lingered there for a hated moment more, as if to make sure that his rebellious groin had nothing more to say. He peered hopefully down at it over the curve of his cleavage, his pert, round breasts bouncing slightly as he shifted his weight. Once he was satisfied that he wasn't about to pop another mockable boner in the middle of gym class, he sighed, squared his shoulders, and slowly moved to stand up.

Halfway to his feet, something soft shoved hard against his shoulder. Rumble grunted, his stance flinging wide as a supple, warm pressure against his collar forced him to pivot abruptly. The half-aroused mass between his legs bounced, smacking juicily against the sides of his taut thighs and forcing a low groan of intense sensation from his throat.

"Sorry!" Rumble's vision cleared, his gaze flicking past his tough, broad shoulder to find whoever'd bumped into him. He found the source of the tinny, accented voice easily enough: his awkward classmate Pipsqueak, who'd turned halfway in his jog around the gym to stare in real concern.

Rumble and Pipsqueak weren't quite friends—friendly acquaintances might have been a better word; Rumble didn't bully Pip, and Pip didn't mock Rumble. But Rumble certainly recognized the, ah, weight at Pipsqueak's chest. Right below the other stallion's neck, and just above his skinny middle, two improbably weighty breasts bounced and squished together, their motion still propelled prodigiously by the inertia of Pip's light jogging. Pip himself looked about ready to stop—but, out of sudden panic and long-trained reflex, Rumble waved him off, shaking his head in response.

Or at least he tried. Try as he might, Rumble couldn't help but let his hand creep up to his shoulder, his gaze still anchored on Pip's curvy chest. He could almost still feel the impression that Pip’s chest had made smooshing against his side, the soft, almost imperceptible warmth of something hard prodding against his shirt. A light blush tinged Pip's pale cheeks, and a deeper red flooded Rumble's once he realized he'd been ogling his classmates cleavage for at least a good five seconds.

"Sorry," Pip squeaked again, very quickly, and turned to jog away—faster, of course, which didn't help the jog of Pip's forward ballast. A few other students passed them, their own bodies clicking out a rhythm on the waxed gym floor. But Rumble, all of a sudden, only had eyes for Pip.

At least for a few moments more. Then, with a jolt of panicked adrenaline, he realized he felt a flexing, heated tightness right over his crotch. Blanching, Rumble glanced down—and saw an impressively large tent poking up out of his gym shorts. Crap.

"Rumble!" Bulk's voice hollered again. "Get a move on!"

Scrambling, eyes wide with desperation, Rumble made a clumsy, squirming start into his jog. He couldn’t help but notice every bounce of his package between his legs, though, praying that nopony noticed it—least of all Pipsqueak.

He made it through the rest of gym class—somehow—managing to avoid staining his shorts (though his boxers felt suspiciously damp) with pre. Still, it wasn't helpful at all to be forced to see Pip's big, bouncing tits seemingly everywhere he turned, bobbing up out of nowhere, the other stallion's pillowy, gaze-catching bust drawing his eye like a magnet. Several times, Rumble felt almost like his relentless boner was finally about to fade completely—and then he'd catch another glimpse of Pip's slender form bouncing around the gymnasium's basketball court, his well-packed chest planting funny ideas in Rumble's thoughts as he noticed just how well the school-issued gym shorts hugged Pip's round, cute butt. Such a lovely pair of paired… Ack!

Even when Pip (or Pip's bosom) weren’t in view, Rumble was powerless to keep the invading image of those perky, squeezable titties out of his mind's eye. Eventually, though, his boner began to cooperate and leave him be, even the constant bouncing of his now rather stuffed-up nuts not quite enough stimulation to keep him hard while focusing on dribbling a basketball under Bulk's bellowing command.

The bellowing was kind of killing the boner, too.  Rumble had never thought he'd be thankful for Coach yelling at him.

Sweaty and exhausted, Rumble finally found himself, swaying and just a bit dizzy, following the rest of the class into the locker rooms. Separated from the girls' by a good foot of plaster, the guys' shower room was a bare, unceremonious area containing two dozen showers and just about space for half that. Used to the procedure by now, Rumble stripped down without even thinking about it, following the rest of his classmates as the hissing of hot water and steam filled the air around them.

This time, though, there was something else tugging on his mind other than just getting clean. A blush tinged Rumble's face as his shower's water thudded down over his bare shoulders, washing sweat away. But as the ice-cold temperature slowly warmed up to a more tolerable temperature, it flooded him with visions of a bouncing, wobbling…Pip.

It wasn't anything unusual, they'd been told after their first class in the new locker room, for colts to shower nude with each other. It was supposed to be an efficient process—get in, get clean, get out. All the same, Rumble couldn't help his wandering eye as he, ostensibly, reached down to grab his bar of soap from the floor between his feet. It seemed to be in collusion with his cock, the weight of which between his legs seemed on the edge of growing…again!

He'd never had any interest for any of the other stallions in the class...but today, today, Celestia, oh, today... Pipsqueak had caught his attention in a way that he'd never before thought possible. Even as he bent over, the shadow of his torso concealing the weighty bulk of his crotch, he let his gaze flick up to stare wonderingly at Pip's own slender, showering form across the distance of the room.

The other colts in their class were tough, stocky, male. There was something about Pip though that just...wasn't. Every stallion in their grade had long ago grown into their own bust, but Pipsqueak himself had far surpassed them, even as the rest of him had been left behind. A bountiful pair of perky cantaloupes—easily twice as large as the next biggest colt's, and much bigger than Rumble's own modest C-cups—endlessly bobbed and jiggled at his chest as the hot water streamed over his bare skin. His waist tapered off like a mare's, his navel narrow and diamond-shaped. Just like his chest, though, his hips flared out wide to his sides, filling out with a pair of cute, bouncy butt-cheeks that left Rumble wishing he could just bury his face in them for hours.

It didn't hurt, either, that even Pip's little stallionhood was adorable: a slender, springy shaft that curved gracefully atop a pair of plump, ripe-looking balls. Such a cute little sack. Even so, every time his gaze so much as flickered anywhere else, Rumble always found his gaze coming inexorably back to those big, perky breasts, his cheeks searing with interest as he watched the hot water flow over the curves and between the cleavage of Pipsqueak's curvaceous bust.

Rumble found himself flinching away from Pip, from his fantasies, from everything, his face coloring again as he felt alien urges swimming in his mind. Why…why had he just thought of himself popping one of these cute little testicles into his mouth, and suckling on it until Pip cried out like a mare in heat above him? Why did he so badly want to squish and squeeze those twin mounds on the other stallion's chest? Why did he feel a need to push his arms around Pipsqueak's sides, curling his fingers around the other stallion's big, perky nipples as he ground his own throbbing erection against Pip's femme, curvaceous rump?

Throbbing—

Rumble's blush redoubled as he glanced back, realizing that his treacherous boner was once again rock-hard and more than ready for... business. Standing up and turning quickly, a spray of water flicking off his wobbling shaft, he finished washing off in a bit of a half-hunch, his front side pointed directly toward the tiled, water-dripping wall as his eager cock bobbed and swayed gently before him.

Even so, he couldn't help but keep frantically glancing back over his shoulder at the luscious stallion standing mere feet away...and when the bell rang to mark the end of class, and the rest of the students rushed out, Pipsqueak stayed—and so did Rumble.

The locker room was quiet and still, save for the gentle drip, drip of water from a leaky sink faucet down the corridor. To Rumble, that faucet may have been a universe away. Even rifling pointlessly through his locker, not really seeing its contents, and clad in nothing save for a towel, he had ears only for the soft rustling of fabric across Pipsqueak’s soft-hided skin behind him, the little stallion's gentle, steady breathing leaving Rumble’s ears perked and hanging each breath to come.

Rumble had no idea how long he spent “looking” through his locker. His clothes, strewn not-too-neatly across the bottom of the metal compartment, were ready and willing to be put back on...but he didn’t want to walk out of here before Pip. It sounded silly when he thought of it that way, but the space between them felt almost...intimate—or at least however intimate an otherwise empty locker room could be. His mind offered up the idea of watching Pip walk out, jiggly little behind bouncing perkily. He flushed, thumbing through his pants, shirt, and socks for the umpteenth time as he pictured Pip’s form in his mind’s eye, unwilling to turn around to complete the picture, but unwilling to do nothing as his crotch steadily stiffened beneath the weight of his towel.

Funnily enough, it was Pipsqueak himself who gave Rumble the excuse. There came a soft grunt—a muffled curse—and then Rumble was glancing over his shoulder, unable to keep his lusting eyes from Pip’s body.

Pipsqueak’s stomach was bare, his cute little navel poking out over the waistband of a pair of briefs slung neatly over his crotch. The little stallion's slender frame nonetheless flared out into a wide set of hips which, on any mare, would have been called “foalbearing.” The cheeks of his ass filled out the fabric nicely, leaving Rumble’s mouth dry as his own stallionhood twitched and pulsed beneath his towel. The bulge at Pip’s crotch wasn’t anywhere near the size of Rumble’s, but it was a mouthwatering, perky, round tent that left his twin orbs and shaft perfectly outlined in the soft, cotton fabric.

His blush flaring up further, Rumble quickly averted his eyes from Pip’s pretty crotch—but the smaller stallion wasn’t paying him any mind, anyway. Rumble hoped. No; Pip’s gaze was directed straight ahead of him and down, his eyes pointed right at the space over his lovely chest.

Or, more accurately, between his chest. A large, frilly pink bra had been pulled back across Pip’s ample bust, and the little stallion himself was just barely holding both ends together behind his back. Slender shoulder blades curved, paper-smooth biceps swelling pathetically as Pipsqueak did his absolute best to force the straps of his bra together, sweat dripping over him with the force of his effort. His breasts squished beneath the pressure of the lacy, thick bra, but nonetheless refused to succumb entirely. A final, adorably high-pitched  grunt left Pipsqueak’s cheeks splotched with red, and he tore the bra away with an adorably foal-like scowl.

A beat later, he caught Rumble staring at him and the red darkened. “Stupid thing won’t latch,” he mumbled. The blush on his cheeks rose to the cute tips of his ears.

Rumble stared for a moment more before realizing that he was supposed to acknowledge that he’d been spoken to. “Oh,” he blurted. “Uh—why?”

Instantly, he knew just how much like a big, dumb jock he sounded. Pip’s ears just reddened hotter, and the little stallion nodded miserably down at his big, squeezable tits. They were still jiggling faintly against his chest, the sudden freedom from their restraints leaving them bouncing with obvious joy. Rumble's balls lurched in applause.

“They just keep getting bigger,” Pip said, biting his lip. “This is the third one this month that won’t fit.” He sighed, stamping one foot, and glanced down at the apparently useless bra in his hand. Rumble’s eyes followed his. The bra was much larger than Rumble’s own; while Rumble’s C-cup bra could have maybe fit a nice pair of oranges, or maybe tangerines, Pipsqueak’s bra was a durable slab of fabric that could have held a set of medium-sized melons easily.  Juicy, thought an unhelpful corner of Rumble's mind.

Rumble felt his hot breath catch in his throat as his gaze slid down toward Pip's hefty "cantaloupes." "Well," he croaked, suddenly only barely trusting himself to speak. "They, uh"—he gritted his teeth, feeling his cheeks burn to match Pip's as he pushed through the wall—"look, um, pretty nice?"

"Oh." Pip's voice sounded...small. Disappointed. Rumble instantly flinched away, wondering just how badly he'd messed up. He shouldn't have said anything—should never have even give Pip a second look in the first place. He had no idea what he was doing here, just that he shouldn't have tried—for all he desperately needed to.

But Pipsqueak didn't stop there, of course. "That's...quite nice of you to say," he said. His accented voice squeaked somewhat adorably on the last word, and there was a soothing, almost musical lilt to his tone. He was still blushing, Rumble noticed—but was that a sweet little smile tugging at sweet little Pip's face? "They're...well, fairly large, you know?"

"Yeah," Rumble breathed. He caught himself, winced. "I just think...you, uh, look good with 'em."

Pipsqueak exhaled heavily.  Up and down and geeze how did they even keep going after Pip stopped? "Well," he said, offering Rumble a shy, sideways grin. "I'm a bit chuffed to hear it, honestly. I've started feeling a bit self-conscious of them, you know—everypony's always staring." His cheeky gaze slipped down to the floor, turning shy, and he pressed his arms toward his sides, his cheeks alighting with the most adorable blush Rumble had ever seen. "And they get in the way quite a lot."

"Like when you hit me during class?" Rumble didn't even mean to say it—he just blurted it out. Instantly, he regretted it.  It was like his dick was pulling the strings on his tongue rather than his brain!

Funnily enough, though, Pipsqueak actually laughed. Seemed to enjoy the memory, even. He giggled, at least, a sweet, airy little sound that made Rumble's eardrums prickle with delight. "Yeah," he said. He cupped each one in an open palm and gave his sizeable melons a little squeeze. "They kinda...bounce around, just a little bit."

"Heh." Rumble felt something primal stirring inside of him as he watched Pipsqueak hold his mouth-watering breasts. "I'll bet." The other stallion honestly looked so small wearing them; even his wide-flared rump looked tiny compared to the plump, perky spheres on his chest. Rumble licked his lips, discarded fear, and dared to continue: "I think they're beautiful." Rumble felt the same urge from before rising up inside of him, a sudden desire to bury his face in between them, to feel those tall, supple nipples between his lips as little Pip squirmed and whimpered so adorably beneath him...

Flushing, he tore his gaze away. They stood still for a moment, neither stallion talking, with just the steady drip, drip of the distant faucet filling the air.

Pipsqueak was again the first to break the silence. "Actually, um..." Rumble's gaze flicked up, though he didn't dare raise his eyes past Pip's muzzle—past Pip's perky, soft lips. Pipsqueak went on, only the slightest of tremors shaking his voice. "D'you want to...um, touch them?"

Rumble started, jogged out of self-recrimination. "What?" he said intelligently, his gaze jerking up. Pip's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. He could feel the hairs on the back of his own neck standing on end, an uncomfortable sensation squirming in the pit of his gut. Had he heard that correctly?

Did he…?

"Oh—nothing," Pip said quickly, fading from the moment. He turned away, his eyes downcast, voice shamed. "It was a—a silly idea. I just thought that, well, since you seemed to like them..."

Rumble swallowed heavily. Before he knew what he was doing, he blurted, "I'd love to"—and then froze anew, watching for Pipsqueak's reaction like a deer caught in a set of particularly bright headlights.

To his credit, Pip didn't actually blush any deeper. The faint crimson streak across his muzzle, though, didn't so much as fade as he jerkily nodded once, as if reassuring himself of something, and then turned and stepped to the side. His svelte figure almost seemed to glide through the air as he picked up one leg—not long, not bulky, but petite, curving out into a pair of thighs just barely thick enough to be squeezable—and swung it over the side of the middle bench, straddling it. With a less-than-graceful motion, he plopped down on it, his bright white briefs rounding out as his well-padded rear pushed out at the fabric.

Rumble's jaw dropped, and he stared down at Pip for a moment, not quite understanding. Pipsqueak's hesitant smile twitched, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

"Er," Pip said. Somewhat awkwardly, he reached forward and patted the bench in front of him. "I thought, maybe—well, maybe it might be a bit more comfortable to sit down?" He bit his lip, then grinned shyly at Rumble. "They do get quite heavy sometimes."

Rumble swallowed, his lips cracking. Something stirred powerfully between his legs as he took in Pipsqueak sitting there, the other stallion's body slung out almost casually in a demure, exposed position. "Uh—sure," he said. A moment later, he found himself sitting across from Pip on the bench, with barely even a foot of separation between them.

His hand held still in the air, fingers tensed, wrist cocked upward. Inches away, Pipsqueak's breast sat quietly, patiently, its plump roundness seemingly content to be docile as its master settled. Feeling like some unicorn was holding his hand back, invisibly guarding the last few inches, Rumble licked his lips.

"Well?" Pip reached out, hand suddenly still, and—Rumble's eyes widened—softly touched the inside of Rumble's thigh. It was still covered by the towel, but the weight of the other stallion's touch through the fabric made something powerful stir inside of him, his thick, corded quads tensing up at the contact, tugging the towel looser. Rumble met Pip's eyes, questions in his own, and Pipsqueak's smile widened. "They're not going to bite."

"Heh." Rumble tried faintly to grin back. Slowly, hesitantly, burning with need, he reached out further, until his callused fingertips were hovering just over that smooth, brown-spotted surface...and then touched down.

Pipsqueak—well, squeaked, exhaled slowly, and his torso tilted forward. A bit more of the weight of the breast settled with a lush squoosh in Rumble's palm, the big, round sphere molding to his fingers. Rumble gave it an exploratory squeeze, almost unwilling to believe what he was holding. It was supple. Soft, but yet firm. It was no wonder they were so perky—despite their size, there was a definite solidity to Pipsqueak's bust that defied the squishy, pillow-like nature.

That wasn't to say that they weren't squishy, no! A faint, goofy grin tinged Rumble's face, then a smile, the corners of his muzzle broadening lustfully as he took hold of Pip's other breast in his other palm.

"How—how do they feel?" Pip shot him a veiled glance, peering past his long, messy bangs. "Do you like them?"

Rumble's cheeks reddened. "Dude,” he breathed, almost choking. “Your boobs are...huge." He gave one a quick little squeeze, and Pip giggled, in between short gasps. The sound of it filled Rumble's chest with confidence, and he felt a surge of recklessness seize him.

Tenderly, he repositioned his right hand, then brushed his thumb across Pip's bare, already erect nipple just far enough to bend it slightly. Pipsqueak shivered, squirming cutely, exhaling again as his supple nipple squished beneath Rumble's thumb, the supple titflesh beneath it depressing as Rumble's fingers curled deeper. Warm, soft fur rustled against Rumble's touch; as he closed his fingers further, he thought he could feel Pipsqueak's heartbeat.

His own heart was beating faster, he noticed. Cupping Pipsqueak's other breast in his offhand, he then let his clumsy grip slide, first down past the other stallion's puffy areola, then down through Pip's cleavage with the side of his palm pointed straight in. So warm! Pipsqueak shivered, breathing a little faster as Rumble's fingers walked their way down his bare tummy, and Rumble felt the heat on his own cheeks intensify as his hand came to rest atop Pip's thigh, just below his navel.

"They’re so...soft," Rumble murmured, obsessing, almost. Pipsqueak blushed cutely, and nodded kindly toward Rumble's own bust.

"I think yours are pretty nice too," he squeaked. Rumble chuckled, throat scratchy. He gave the inside of Pip's thigh a bold little squeeze. The little stallion gasped, and Rumble felt the stiffening stirring between his legs intensify.

"They're nowhere near as big as yours," Rumble said shyly. "I...guess they're okay?"

Pipsqueak's gaze flickered hungrily downward. Instantly, the cute stallion's cheeks reddened; he let out an adorable little "eep!" of surprise. Rumble froze.

It was a moment before Pipsqueak's soft giggle removed the silence. "Um," he said, his accent rising up again. "It looks like you're pretty big...down there yourself, though."

Rumble's stomach felt just about ready to drop its way out of his middle and flop out onto the floor below. His cheeks burned their brightest crimson yet as he glanced down and spotted the embarrassingly familiar curve of his fat, protruding flare sticking out from beneath the hem of his towel. It wasn't much—just an inch or so—but his thick, black endowment was big enough that even that much looked ridiculously, abundantly obscene.

"I—oh, crap. I'm so sorry." Rumble yanked a hand away from Pip's bust, quickly going to cover himself back up. He made to lean back swiftly, to get up entirely, his heart pounding in his chest and along his length like a drum. "I didn't mean—"

Pipsqueak's hand, strong for all its delicacy, caught his before he could even pull it a full foot away. Rumble froze stock still, his whole body stiffening as the other stallion tightened his grip around Rumble's broad wrist.

Pipsqueak's little grip was surprisingly tight, even if Rumble's wrist was so much thicker than his that Pip's fingers barely even wrapped halfway around. Pipsqueak's bangs fell over his eyes as he stared intently down at Rumble's crotch, that rosy red tinge rising to his adorably freckled face once more.

"No—it's fine," Pipsqueak blurted, his mouth hanging open for a second before he closed it, unable to say more. He flinched, relaxing his grip on Rumble's wrist. He didn't let go, though, and finally spoke again. "I just... I just was surprised, I s'pose. A little."  He gave Rumble what appeared to be a commendable attempt at a cocksure smile

"A little." Rumble offered Pip a cringing "grin." "I, uh—"

"Oi," Pipsqueak said huffily, puffing out his boy-knockers. "S'not like it's anything new." His blush deepened, and he quickly looked away, his breasts wobbling along. "I mean, with the showers..."

"Oh," Rumble said. "Right." He tried hard not to remember just how much he'd been ogling Pipsqueak back in there.

"It's just..." Pipsqueak gave him a hopeful, almost lonely, look. "I just saw how big it was, and... Well, you got a chance to feel these. right," He released his grip on Rumble's wrist, then moved his hands up to cup his hefty tits. Rumble couldn't help but chuckle along as Pipsqueak jiggled them lightly. "I was wonderin' if you could maybe return the favor?"

"Oh," Rumble said. That sounded… fair? His always-eager erection stirred, pushing its way even further out from beneath the towel than it had in the first place. His gaze followed Pipsqueak's down to the space beside his thigh, where his thick, throbbing erection was tenting his hapless towel into a long tube, standing proud at attention as it flexed and bobbed lazily. Rumble's arms tightened at his sides. He tried to ignore how the movement of his cock was pulling at the edges of the towel, pulling them away from his flat hips. He felt his stomach settle a bit. "Uh. I guess…so?"

Pipsqueak bobbed his head pleasantly, and the grin returned in full splendor. "Lovely," he murmured breathily. He sounded...distant. Dreamy. Slowly—though it seemed more that he was taking his time than out of hesitation—he moved his left hand away from his bust and down toward the black expanse of Rumble’s pulsating erection.

Where Pipsqueak’s breasts were big, Rumble’s member was positively huge. There was just no other word for it; he'd grown past his brother more than two years ago, for Celestia's sake! Tip to base, the shaft itself was as long as his forearm, and nearly as thick. Its wide cockslit bobbed mere inches away from Pip’s bare navel, its tip oozing a tiny drop of pre.

“It’s so thick,” Pip murmured, his throat catching. His pupils were dilated, and he was swaying slightly, as if entranced. Rumble gave a low snort as he felt Pip's slender fingers wrap around his turgid length, the other stallion's soft hand just barely big enough to reach halfway around.

Rumble’s nostrils flared widely, and he drew in a slow, shuddering breath. “It’s...kinda big,” he admitted, trying for manly humility, fidgeting slowly on the bench. His butt squished against the cold metal grooves, the towel shifting across his thighs and pulling ever shorter as he spread his legs a little wider. His aching balls, so full and thoroughly teased from gym and his “show” in the showers, spilled gratefully into the space between his thighs, the warm, sauna-like air still somehow a shock against the sensitive skin.

Pip’s little hand traced eagerly down the side of Rumble’s shaft as if in reverent wonder, his thumb and forefinger rubbing out small circles along the side. Rumble took another breath, his lungs inflating in his chest as the pace of his heart slowed to an elevated, but steady thub-thump, one vein in particular probing back against Pip's fingers.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice it,” Pipsqueak breathed. “How do you fit it all into your knickers?”

Rumble blushed. By now, he was at full mast, and the tip of his stallionhood was tall enough to brush gently against the underside of his own perky breasts. “I—ah,” he coughed, quivering as his sensitive flare pressed against his bust, the first beads of precum brushing against his own underboob. “It’s...hard.”

“Not as hard as it is now,” Pip said. When Rumble looked at him, the little stallion was grinning mischievously, with a glint in his eyes Rumble couldn't quite place.

“Okay,” Rumble said. “That was pretty bad.” Pipsqueak giggled cheekily, and gave Rumble’s cock another, more confident squeeze.

“True, I’d imagine,” Pip said playfully, drawing out his words. He moved his fingers a little further down, just low enough for his thin knuckles to knead gently against Rumble’s tight-packed nuts. Rumble exhaled suddenly, eyes widening and broad shoulders tensing while his virile cock flexed in Pipsqueak’s unsteady grip. The little stallion grinned, then blushed, something sparking further in his eyes. It was a moment before Rumble realized that Pip’s adventurous other hand was lying on the inside of his bare thigh. The thick muscle of Rumble’s leg flexed, still dripping with the last droplets of shower water as Pipsqueak’s fingers rubbed tiny circles into his coat.

The wet metal of the bench squealed quietly as Pipsqueak scooted forward, his lithe body bending cleanly forward as his rump squeaked across his seat. In the blink of an eye, Rumble found the littler stallion's face inches away from his own, Pip's muzzle pointed upward at his own.

"Wow," Pipsqueak breathed. "You're big all over."

Rumble shivered as Pip's questing hand moved up and around his thick thigh, knuckles brushing against his hip. The towel fell to the floor around them, exposing his lower body completely. His thick, corded legs flexed against the cold steel of the bench, and he found his knees pressing against Pipsqueak's as the other stallion scooted himself even closer.

Rumble didn't even bother to think about bending down and picking the towel up.  Not now, and especially not with Pip's breasts so very, very close.

Rumble's nostrils flared. Pipsqueak, up so close, smelled soft and warm and sweet, like a pile of flowers. As Pipsqueak's gentle hand moved up around his side, palm curving, not quite tugging, into Rumble's waist, Rumble let himself draw a more than companionable arm around Pip's slender back, pulling the bold little stallion in close.

"Hey," Rumble mumbled, trying to think of something to say. He leaned down, a bit awkwardly, to nuzzle hesitantly against Pipsqueak's droopy bangs. The full floral scent of the other stallion's hair hit him in full force, and he took a deep breath to let Pipsqueak's scent fill his lungs, a comforting, but somehow provoking scent. Something beyond just hardness, beyond just lust, stirred within his broad, bobbly chest. His strong grip tightened around Pip's flaring hip, his fingers digging into the soft, briefs-covered coat of the other stallion's lush rump. "I'm not that big."

Pip let out a delighted little squeak, wiggling his jiggly butt in tighter against Rumble's welcome grip. Rumble groaned softly, the sound finally forcing past the tightness of his throat. His hefty cock twitched, another glob of slick pre oozing down the side as Pip's cute, underwear-wrapped package rubbed urgently against the bottom of his own. "Nah, mate," Pip chirped. He slid a caring finger up around Rumble's chest and snuggled his face against Rumble's taut bicep. Rumble felt his arm flex up, the muscle there bulging up as Pipsqueak's hot cheeks rubbed comfortingly against it. "Or maybe I'm just little."

Rumble groaned again, his attention drawn to the object of his fantasies.  Objects, in fact. "Not little all over," he gasped, grinning goofily. His lengthy cock lurched, his pre-slick flare wedging itself right between Pip's hefty cleavage, pushing the soft mounds lewdly apart. They were pressed so close now, their bodies tight against one another, that he could see—and feel—every difference in their forms up close, as if viewed beneath a microscope. Pipsqueak's limbs were shorter, slender, curvy. The other stallion's rump poked out just far enough into view for Rumble to be able to see it over Pip's shoulder—and with a six-inch height advantage, Rumble was more than happy to enjoy the view.

He felt his own rear end clench in earnest desire, well-toned cheeks digging into the ridged metal of the bench beneath them. Where Pipsqueak was slight, Rumble was broad. His shoulders were wide, his biceps thick. His arms reached out further than Pip, his longer legs curling inward slightly as Pip nuzzled at his chest. Their breasts pushed together, Rumble's own pert little nipples pressing into the soft flesh of Pipsqueak's rack, the other stallion's larger bust squishing generously against Rumble's tighter chest.

Underboob-high on Rumble, though, was easily neck-high for the cute little Pipsqueak. Rumble gasped again, feeling his cock lurch into warm softness as Pipsqueak's hot, heavy breast wrapped tenderly around it. He could feel something else long and hard sliding up the length of his pre-slick shaft, and curled his arms just a bit more tightly around Pip's waist as the little stallion pressed harder back against him. A soft, needy grunt escaped Pip's throat, the sound muffled by Rumble's larger, meaty bicep, like a verbal kiss. Rumble sucked in another shuddering breath, and unsteadily dug his fingers in beneath Pipsqueak's shoulder blades, feeling their shafts rub against one another as Pipsqueak's smaller length finished stiffening beside and beneath his own.

Below him, Pipsqueak exhaled with awed longing. Then, his cheeks dimpled and rosy, he turned his gaze to the side, just far enough to view Rumble's prideful erection poking up between his voluminous  breasts.

"Wow," Pip breathed. He lifted a hand, brushed it boldly across Rumble's smaller breasts. Rumble shuddered with nervous pleasure, and groped Pip's ass a little more greedily. "It looks so much...bigger up close.” Pip smirked, pumped his hips an inch or so forward. Rumble groaned as he felt the smaller stallion's stallionhood grinding up against his own. “Feels bigger, too, eh?"

Bending his neck in, just a little bit, Pip let his chin hang over his impressive bust just far enough to leave Rumble's fat, drooling flare just beneath his perky little nose. He took a deep sniff of Rumble's scent, the heavier, masculine musk sending his eyelids fluttering.  "Smells bigger, even." Rumble chuckled.

"Mm," Pip grunted. As Rumble watched, his own flare flexing back toward his belly, another glob of precum beaded on his tip. It bubbled up from his cockslit, collecting on the top with only its own mass holding it together. Pipsqueak licked his lips, nostrils flaring yet again. "I wonder..."

Rumble yelped when Pipsqueak's tongue first touched the side of his shaft. Instantly, Pip's gaze darted up to meet his, and Rumble felt his cheeks burn. "No—" he choked out, his shaft trembling. "It's—it's fine. You can go ahead."

Pipsqueak nodded, the look in his big, warm eyes trusting. He turned back to his subject of ardent interest, and once more opened his mouth. This time, when Rumble felt the moist, rough heat of Pipsqueak's tongue brushing hopefully against his quivering tip, he didn't squeal so much as groan, his well-built torso shuddering with delight, perky tits rubbing against Pip's, as his heavy balls tightened with sudden need.

Pip lapped gently at Rumble's flare, not sucking so much as...tasting. Testing. With a sudden flick of his tongue, he mischievously broke the bead of precum, letting the long, white strands of the larger stallion's arousal break over his lips. Almost daintily, he moved to lap those up at the sides, twisting and curling his tongue as though he were licking at an ice-cream cone on a hot summer's day, refusing to waste a single drop. Rumble just groaned lower, his deeper voice ringing out in the empty locker room as his fingers possessively dug into Pip's plump rear, his bare toes curling against the cold floor.

While Pip slurped lovingly at his dripping shaft, Rumble pulled one of his hands back. He slid it, hand seeming to know better what to do than his head,  between the two of them, his thumb's first knuckle squishing into Pipsqueak's underbust before forming contact with the hard, throbbing length of the other stallion's stiff little maleness. Where Rumble's cock was thick, heavy, and dripping with arousal, Pipsqueak's was light, slender, and dry—save, at least, for a single drop of pre that rolled over the back of Rumble's forefinger, breaking and oozing across the bigger stallion's coat.

Rumble's nostrils flared, and something powerful, something primal pumped in his gut. Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he grabbed a hold of Pip's butt with his dominant hand and squeezed around both their shafts with the other, his long, stronger grip just barely managing to wrap around Pip's length and only half his own.

"Pip," he grunted—groaned, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Oh—Pip."

His voice hadn’t squeaked like that in years.

Pipsqueak just moaned gleefully with him, the little stallion's noises of pleasure ringing cutely in Rumble's ears. Rumble snorted, his chest pushing out against Pipsqueak's as he pressed their bodies together, hips locking in place as he felt their erections grind together. His small breasts squished comfortably against Pipsqueak's own giant ones, the little stallion's ample melons forming a soft, velvety glove around his own aching erection as Rumble masturbated them both. Each one of Pipsqueak's little, flickering licks came with a soft sigh as well, the quiet sounds of arousal driving Rumble's lusts to greater heights. Was this what it was like with a mare in season?  Health class and sex ed seemed so distant, so long ago.

Rumble’s taut hips began to pump forcefully, grinding their mismatched lengths even more firmly together. Their tight, stuffed balls squished and bounced together, Rumble's hefty orbs pressing against the cute little bulge at Pipsqueak's crotch, a somehow lewder parallel to their breasts above. Pip's shuddering breaths came shorter and sharper, his tongue curling and cheeks hollowing around Rumble's pre-dripping length as his lips suckled gently around the flare. Rumble grunted, gasped, his beefy arms flexing as he felt Pip's slender body pressing against his own, their cocks bulging in his grip as the pressure and heat at his crotch mounted to a peak—

With a choking, sputtering gasp, Pipsqueak pulled his head away from Rumble's fat tip. Rumble's insistent cock lurched, then bucked in his powerful grip as strands of thick, white cum erupted from his tip. Ropes of spunk painted Pipsqueak's face white, each throb of Rumble's stallionhood covering Pip's own orgasm as the shorter shaft in his fingers trembled and throbbed. Hot, oozing cum dripped down the shaft of Rumble's length, his own member spurting out another rope of jizz across Pipsqueak's cheek before shuddering to a halt. A few, small strands of spunk oozed from the flare, dripping down to fill the cleavage little Pip's not-so-little bust.

Rumble inhaled sharply, his wide chest inflating with sudden air. His sensitive little breasts smooshed against Pip's broader pair, and the smaller stallion grunted, his curvy hips wriggling in Rumble's grip. Exhaling, Rumble released his hold and fell back against the bench, only his outflung hands stopping him from lying back completely.

Pipsqueak's breaths were soft, short, and sharp. His sweaty bangs fell over his face, but when he lifted his head toward Rumble's, they fell away, revealing a wide, blinking blue stare that Rumble felt all the way to his soul.

"W-wow," Pipsqueak said.

Rumble nodded, shyly. "Wow," he echoed.

Pip's tongue poked out of his mouth, then curled around his upper lip. He licked up a glob of Rumble's cum, then swallowed it. Rumble followed his gaze to Pip's—or rather, both of their busts. The "damage" to Pipsqueak's breasts was much more pronounced, with a fair few tablespoons of Rumble's thicker load layered over his cow-spotted mammaries. Rumble's chest, though, was also painted with his leavings, and he could still feel his own stallionhood clench as Pipsqueak's warm, gooey load oozed down the side of his shaft.

Pipsqueak giggled suddenly. "Looks like we made quite a mess, eh?" he said.

Rumble snorted. "Yeah," he said. "Lil' bit."

Pipsqueak smiled impishly over at him, that blue gaze sparkling behind his messy mane. "I think we might need another shower," he said shyly, the corner of his mouth twitching in probable amusement.

Rumble's mind at the moment, though, was resting anywhere but the thought of getting clean. Idly, he registered the sensation of his towel rasping against his bare foot...and then shoved the thought away, his mind preferring to retreat to the warm, golden thrill of his afterglow.

"Maybe," he finally admitted, resenting the necessity but unable to resent the company. He smiled down at Pipsqueak, and moved to affectionately brush Pip's pretty hair out of his prettier eyes. Too late, he realized that he was using the same hand he'd been using to masturbate the two of them—and found, just a heartbeat later, that he'd succeeded in little more than smearing and clumping Pip's hair together with his cum. When Rumble hastily pulled his hand away, Pipsqueak snickered at the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. After a moment, Rumble joined him, chuckling too, finding a different kind of release.

"Maybe you could shower with me this time?" Pip offered. He gave Rumble's thigh a hesitant squeeze, and Rumble shivered, mulling the decision over—decisions, the immediate and the longer term. Swallowing, Rumble turned his gaze to face the shower—and then, hesitantly, turned back to face Pipsqueak. Rumble nodded.

"Yeah," he said. A smile slowly spread across his face. "I think I'd like that."