Sex is a part of life--even the life of our kind and gentle ponies. This is a collection of stories that use sex as a storytelling tool, not just cheap gratification.
Sex. The topic brings about many thoughts, feelings, ideas--some good, some bad, some weird, some exciting, and everything else in between.
Even in the happy lives of our little pony friends, sex must occur. It's natural, it's necessary, it's fun, and it's filled with emotion and power.
So join in the most private and intimate moments of a few characters as they find themselves closer than ever before, either testing the waters with just a taste or diving full on into the complete immersion of a life-changing experience.
This collab is a collection of stories hoping to take the Sex tag back from pointless clop stories. Sex is a powerful tool in a writer's repertoire, and if done correctly and respectfully can be used to tell immensely moving stories of intrigue, emotion, or pain. These stories are not for sexual gratification. They are, like any other, stories to be read to touch a reader, to make them feel, and to stir their own ideas.
Each story has been marked with what it contains, which has then been spoilered with white text.
Cover image found randomly.
This is only one of two collabs for May. If you want something a little more run-of-the-mill, check out Trouble in Bloom.
And what a year it had been; when I first met you, I had no idea what to make of you. I was so nervous and shy that I tried to avoid you so I wouldn’t have to talk to you. But you must have found that endearing, because you would always try to start a conversation with me every single day.
At first, it was nothing but awkward silence, but as time went on, and I got more used to your presence, we started speaking more and more until we would end up happily talking to each other for hours on end.
I don’t know when I fell in love with you, it must’ve been when I first met you.
But it doesn’t matter now, I confessed my feelings for you and you happily accepted them. And we’ve been dating ever since.
When I found out that our one year anniversary would occur on the Saturday after the Grand Galloping Gala, I immediately wrote to Princess Celestia so she could give me an extra ticket for you, I’d never thought she would actually pull through.
My friends were very excited for me when I told them you were coming as my date. Especially Dash, she was so proud of me; I think I almost saw a tear of joy roll down her cheek when she heard the news.
I still don’t know why I fell in love with you; maybe it was the fact that, for some reason, I feel safe and comfortable around you. Everytime you smile, all my worries seemed to disappear, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I knew that you were always going to be there for me no matter what.
Soon...the night of the Gala came, and I saw how handsome you were; it was a simple suit, but it looked great on you. Rarity may be inexperienced when it comes to making formal wear for stallions, but she did a great job.
“You look beautiful,” you complimented me, my mane tied in a beehive, wearing a beautiful green dress with a butterfly motif. “My little butterfly,” you playfully teased. I just blushed when you said that. My friends, you and I all went to Canterlot together, the Gala being held in the grand ballroom at the royal palace. I was walking beside you, occasionally nuzzling your neck, savoring every single minute with you. You were my first coltfriend, and I wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.
The princess happily greeted us at the entrance, Twilight staying by her side as usual, before we made our way inside the ballroom. You led me to an empty table for just the two of us. The atmosphere was so romantic, especially when I found myself staring at you.
“Do you know how to dance?” you asked. I didn’t know what to say, I hardly go to formal parties, let alone dance. I just quietly and nervously shook my head. “That’s okay...I’ll show you.” You then offered your hoof, I took it and you led me to the dance floor. “I will lead, and you will follow, okay?” you assure. I just silently nodded, fully trusting you.
I had never danced before until that night, but as you said, all I had to do was follow, and everything would handle itself. I don’t know how many songs we danced to. Three? Six? A dozen? It didn’t matter, because I felt the eyes of every pony at the Gala staring at us, something I normally hate, but with you...I loved it.
Once we finished our last dance, everyone cheered for us, especially our friends, and complimented us on how beautiful we looked as a couple. “Want to go on a walk in the gardens?” you asked. You always knew that the gardens were my favorite place.
“That would be lovely.” I smiled.
Walking side-by-side, together, and alone with nothing but the garden animals to keep us company was the greatest moment of my life so far...I wanted it to last forever. “The flowers breathe differently at night,” you muse as you took a yellow rose from a bush and gently placed it in my beehive of a mane. It was that moment that finally decided for us that it was time to take the next step in our relationship.
“I’m ready,” I said to you. You fully knew what it meant.
“Are you sure? I don’t want any regrets when we do this.”
“I’m positive.” I had never been more sure in my life. We’d been dating for a year already, and knowing you, you would never have dared to take it far without my approval. But tonight was the night in which I finally would.
“Okay then. If you insist.” You nodded with a smile.
We headed back inside to see the Gala had finished; only the princess, my five friends and the two of us were left. Celestia offered to let us spend the night at the palace in the many guest rooms, and we all happily accepted. I still don’t know if Celestia planned it on purpose or not, but she gave you and I the largest guest room in the palace. I’ll need to thank her for that.
I led you inside the guest room and, once you closed the door, I immediately pounced and began to kiss you with as much passion as I could. Our tongues happily explored each of our mouths. I pushed you onto the large bed as I began to take off my dress.
“Are you still sure about this?” you asked one last time.
“I am sure,” I assured after taking off my slippers and dress. “I will lead, and you will follow, okay?” I then undid my beehive of a mane, causing it to become free and flowing again. You just noded, ready to do this.
I got on top of you as we restarted our kiss. I took off your suit as I began to run kisses down your body, Wanting everything that I kissed to be mine, mine and nopony else’s. If any mare wants to share, they would need to ask my permission first. My kisses continued to go lower, and lower, and lower until my lips finally reached their goal. A devious smile formed on my lips.
“Wait, you don’t-” I immediately placed my hoof on your mouth.
“Like I said...just follow my lead,” I assured as I happily place my mouth around your stallionhood.
You protested at first...but eventually you accepted what I was doing as you just went along with the motions. Just the way I like it, because I always wanted to remind you that your body is mine, all mine, and that I can have it anytime I want, no questions asked.
What happened afterwards was, to me, one big blur of kissing and passionate moans. I think we ended up doing it two or three times, I’m not sure, but I do remember watching the sun rise before finally passing out from exhaustion, and I also remember becoming very dominate and demanding near the end, but you didn’t seem to mind it all.
“Well, well, well, my little butterfly is finally awake,” you playfully teased, the first words I heard as I finally awoke. I looked around the room to find you standing at the foot of the bed, a tray of food on the night stand. I turned to the dresser mirror to see that my mane was a wild mess, all parts of my fur matted with sweat, and the entire room, especially me, smelling musky.
“Hungry?” you asked. I just quietly nodded.
You happily took the tray and placed it over me as I remained on the bed. It was a meal of buttered toast and hot chocolate. “Thank you,” I managed to say.
“For what?” you ask, curious.
“For everything, for making this night the best night of my life, for the breakfast, for always being there and...” I had trouble coming up with what to say next, until I finally found the inspiration to respond. “...and for allowing me to take the lead.”
You just smiled. “Well...I did lead you through the dance, I thought it was only fair you have your turn for tonight.” I love it when you’re cheeky.
We both just laughed at what you said.
My name is Fluttershy...and if you are reading this, you finally know about what I consider to be our greatest night together...not counting our wedding night of course. But that’s a story for another time.
Love,
Your wife and special somepony forever and always. Thank you.
Written by: Merc the Jerk Contains: Humanized M/F, Underage, Mistaken/Regretful sex Note on Underage: The collab rules stated no underage sex...however, as with any topic, there can be times when it can be used to tell a good story. This was one such time. It's not about abuse or sickened perversions, but simply a completely possible situation between a teenager and an adult. Please keep that in mind.
Spike knocked at the boutiques' door and sighed. After a beat, he turned up his jacket's collar and shuffled on his feet.
Snow, bitter and thick, had been coming hard for a good three days now and showed no sign of stopping. It blew all across the sleepy hamlet and cleared out the streets even this early in the evening.
The young lad put his hands under his armpits and tried to sink into the scarf he wore. If it was bad for the folk, it was even worse for dragonchilds like himself. It was hell on his warm nature—his teeth had been chattering all the way here from the library and would be all night.
He briefly panicked as he reached into his pocket, thinking with alarm that he might have forgotten the papers Twila had wanted sent over. Why the scholar had to get these papers to Rarity right away was a mystery to Spike, but he had a feeling it was due to Jack's sporadic arrival to the library a few minutes before they were needing to close. Odds are Twila kicked him out so they could—
The boy winced slightly. The thought of Twila doing something like that was icky. No, it was gross. It was icky-gross. What's worse was the fact that no matter how much he wanted to not think of it, he couldn't remove the thought of Twila and Jack nude on the couch, the farmer straddling and pinning Twila under the earth-folk's powerful, muscular thighs. Twila running her pale hands up Jack's rock-hard, sweat shined body, stopping at the the farmer's perky, freckled breasts. Jack biting her lip--
Spike slapped himself, killing the fantasy he was in and trying to ignore the painful tightness in his jeans as blood began circulating down into his groin.
Stop it, he rebuked himself. What would Rarity think if she saw you like this? “Rarity...” he trailed off wistfully, for a brief moment away from the cloud of hormones that had been working on his mind for what felt like forever and going back to a simpler time, when he could just watch her from afar and soak up every single moment—every single breath with her—like a sponge. Her laugh like the blowing of wind through trees on a spring day, her violet, sleekly styled and curled hair, her skin imported chocolate, her blue eyes Celestia's sun, her hands smooth rivers, her breasts...
Oh man her breasts.
“Stop,” Spike warned himself again, his voice cracking slightly. He pounded his fist against the door once more, then tried the handle.
It opened without a hitch. Spike mentally slapped himself and walked in, stomping his feet on the mat and quickly shutting the door behind him.
“Rarity?” he called out, walking past the storefront and going behind the curtain to the boutique's living quarters. He paused at the double doors leading to the living room.
The smell of champagne.
He hadn't had much of an experience with the drink but he knew the smell. Rarity would indulge on occasion after a rough day at the office.
“I'm coming in, OK?” he asked, grabbing the handle and slowly opening it. The drake looked around the room, noting the cold, unlit fireplace, the posh reading chair with a half-stitched quilt thrown on an arm, and finally settling on the middle of the room, where Rarity lay splayed out on her back, the crook of her elbow covering her eyes, and her other arm towards the floor, a delicate hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle. Judging by the tissue box nearby and the choked gasps she was stifling under her breath, this evening's date didn't turn out so well.
The boy moved to the woman. He reached out, pausing for a moment before extending his hand to her shoulder. “You alright?”
She flinched at his words, uncovering her bleary eyes. “S-Spike...” she trailed off, wiping at her bloodshot eyes. “I didn't hear you.”
“Sorry,” he stammered out. Rarity adjusted herself, sitting up far too quickly. She lost balance and stumbled forward. Spike grabbed her shoulders and carefully set her back against the couch. He paused, feeling her shoulders again. “Rarity, you're freezing.”
“Am I?” she asked, clenching her eyes tight and opening them again. Spike looked over to the fireplace.
“L-let me get a fire started,” he announced, walking over to the cold coals. With a point, a lazy, small green flame sputtered to life from his finger. It slowly came out in a swirling stream, coating the coals in his drakeflame and brightening the room in a flickering green hue.
Rarity took another drink from the bottle, wiping her violet lips daintily with the back of her hand. Spike moved over to a chair and sat, briefly staring at Rarity's lips, and how they formed a perfect O when she took another drink of champagne. She ran a tongue over them as she stared into the flame. Spike let a small whimper out at the sight.
“Something the matter?” she asked, glancing his way.
“N-no. Nothing.” He blushed, crossing his legs and quickly changing the subject. “Why were you crying?”
Rarity bit her lip, clutching the bottle hard in her manicured hands. “Why can't I find a good man, Spikie?”
Bad date. I knew it! Spike thought. He shrugged. “I don't know.”
She gestured out with her hands; her drink sloshed in the bottle. “Am I repugnant? Unattractive? A freak?”
“Of course not!” Spike quickly snapped, enough to give Rarity a pause. “You're perfect, Rarity—anyone who can't see that isn't worth even a second of your time.”
The tailor paused, the usual banter they had when something like this happened completely gone. Normally, he wouldn't say much of anything; he'd simply listen as she droned on and on about her man troubles. But now, the conviction in his eyes all but screamed defiance at her self-deprecating words.
For that brief moment, the boy stood tall, like a man.
“Spike...” the woman trailed off, swallowing. She rose, brushing off the white one-piece dress she wore and taking another drink. “Would you care to escort me to my room? I-I feel I've drank a bit too much to make it myself.”
He wordlessly came to her side. She all but collapsed into him—the dragonchild did his best to sling her arm over his narrow shoulders and have her lean on him—he couldn't do much more than that, due to how short he was in comparison to her.
They left the living room and walked the hallway. Going up the flight of stairs in the back, Rarity tripped, bringing Spike down along with her in the fall. She landed on her back with Spike on top, inches away from the blue pools of her eyes. Bloodshot or not, they were still pretty to the boy.
Spike blushed deeply, scrambling off the woman.
“S-sorry,” he stammered out.
“Why apologize, dear? I was the one that tripped.” She paused briefly before giving a slow smirk, offering her hand out and staring at him through those drunk, half-lidded eyes. He quickly took it and brought her back to her feet.
They reached the second floor; Rarity gestured to her room. Spike nodded, heat coming to his face in waves.
Relax, idiot. You've seen a girl's room before, he thought.
Twila's doesn't count, he promptly replied in his mind. He vigorously shook his head, drowning out the thoughts. “L-let's go ahead and put you to bed.”
“Mmm. I like the idea.”
He guided her to the bed, only to have her stop a few feet shy.
“What's wrong?”
“I don't want to sleep in this dress,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Help me get it off.”
Spike's jaw dropped. “Rarity, how much have you had to drink?”
She laughed, lobbing her head back and nearly stumbling back onto her bed. “Who's counting?” she replied with a giggle, winking before giving a lazy turn, lifting up her violet hair and gesturing at the zipper at her back.
Spike swallowed and took a step forward, reaching up to the zipper with trembling hands.
He slowly undid it, watching as more and more of Rarity's chocolate skin unveiled itself. He paused, sucking in a breath as the back of her cream-colored bra slowly became visible.
“Something the matter?” she asked.
“N-no! Everything's peachy! Just. Fine.” Spike finished the job, finally reaching the zipper's end at the small of her back. Rarity gave a small giggle and threw off the shoulders of the dress, letting them fall to her sides. Now, the only thing keeping the dress on was her shapely backside, a sight that promised Spike everything in the world and more. Her hands took a slow, meandering travel downward; Rarity discarded the dress, letting it fall onto the carpet. She gave the smallest turn of her head to make sure Spike was watching every motion before removing her heels, only tripping slightly as she kicked them off.
“Did you mean what you said? About me being perfect?” she asked, putting a hand on her hip and numbly twirling her hair.
Spike felt like his brain had shorted out. He stared at the woman, doing his best to tilt his head up to meet her eyes, rather than her impressive, perfect breasts, or her wide, sensual hips.
“I...”
“Don't be modest, darling.” She grinned with another off-key laugh. “I know what you think of me. Especially now.” She pointed down to Spike's pants, where a carny crew had pitched a circus tent. He quickly blushed, covering his crotch with his hands and turning away.
Rarity observed him through her haze. “Spikey,” she playfully whispered, a sharp flash of inspiration in her eyes briefly broke through her stupor. “Have you ever been with a woman?”
“I, uh, t-that is...” he trailed off, sweat pouring from his brow as the soul-folk took an awkward, shuffling step close.
Rarity ran her hands along her sides, resting at the diamond mark on her outer thighs. Giving another small laugh, she reached behind her back. “I'll show you,” she decreed, unhitching her bra and letting it fall carelessly to the floor.
Her breasts stood proud in the cold air, like mountains on the horizon. Each was topped by a small, dark ebony kiss at its brown peak, which all but begged to be conquered.
“Rarity! What are you doing?!” Spike exclaimed, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. “You can't--”
She awkwardly lunged for him, cradling his body tight and all but smothering him in her pillows. He briefly struggled, but quickly gave up as he felt his body get lost in a tide of emotion and pleasure. The woman broke the embrace and bent down while tilting Spike's head up. She forced her lips onto the boy's. Spike froze, unable to process what was happening. He groaned as Rarity ran her tongue along his closed lips. Taking this moment of weakness, she split his mouth open with her tongue and explored the roof of his mouth. His newly awakened hormones were in overdrive, the sensation like multiple explosions of pleasure erupting at her intrusion. The boy didn't even care that he could taste the bitter, heady undertones of champagne in her kiss.
Just as quick as it came, she broke the embrace. Spike looked up at Rarity, close to drunk himself, just from the atmosphere. She gave a slow, inviting walk towards the bed, sashaying her hips with every step. She sat at the edge of the bed and gazed with predatory instinct to Spike.
He briefly glanced to the open bedroom door. Rarity was drunk, more drunk than he had ever seen her. It wasn't right to do this.
The woman gave a shake of her head, tossing her violet bangs behind her shoulders and looking at the boy. Without provocation, she squeezed her breasts together with her arms and leaned forward, resting her hands on her crossed legs.
Spike couldn't resist. He took a step forward, taking off his jacket and shirt, soon finding himself stripped down to his boxers. Rarity tapped the bedside next to her. Spike sat close to her, feeling like he was in a whole different world right now.
She trailed one of her manicured fingers along his lanky, pale chest and finally settled on his blue-stripped boxers, and the prize that lay underneath that last piece of cloth. She ran a delicate circle around his jutting member, before finally giving a single scrape across the covered head. Spike literally gasped at the action, leaning forward and clutching hard at the sheets. Rarity smiled, standing off the bed. Without breaking eye contact, the tailor removed her panties, revealing her delicate mound, obscured by only a close-shaven tuft of violet pubic hair cut so precise and square that Spike wondered if she took a mirror down there to get the angle right.
“Stand,” she whispered. Spike did as instructed, his legs trembling like a newborn deer's as he gazed at the dark-skinned goddess before him. With half-lidded eyes and a coy smile, she grabbed his boxers at the waist and yanked down.
His member stood at full attention. While not the largest or widest, it made up for it in enthusiasm, twitching in anticipation of what was to come.
“It's so cute!” She exclaimed. Spike blanched.
“I-I'd rather you not call it--” he gasped as Rarity leaned forward, putting his shaft into her mouth. She gave an experimental twirl of her tongue over the appendage; it was all Spike could do to keep from crossing his eyes in pleasure as Rarity carried his member in his mouth, milking it while cupping his testicles with a hand. She kept her pinkie extended, reminding Spike of the times she drank tea.
She soon pulled back, saliva and pre-cum leaving a small bridge between her violet lips and Spike's tool. Rarity grasped him with a smooth, silky hand and began to stroke him as she lent forward and kissed his chest, then trailed up to his neck, finally on the jaw. Spike took his hands and put them behind Rarity's head, bringing her in for a deep, lip-locking kiss. They remained frozen in that for several moments, Rarity so distracted that she paused from working his rod, instead melting into his heartfelt embrace. The woman felt a small trickle of moisture in her sex; her nipples hardened, each becoming small pebbles jutting out from her flawless skin. When they broke, Rarity took a few steps over and laid on the bed, knees up and presenting herself to Spike. He moved on blind, dumb instinct, doing his best to shut off the mental stimulation that would probably give him a heart attack at this point.
Her an-and me? I'm actually, wow, she's actually—he shook his thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand.
“Like what you see?” Rarity questioned with a slurring tease, showcasing her moist womanhood. Spike leaned in close and gave an experimental poke of her walls with a finger. She gasped and her body all but pulled and tugged at his hand, desperately seeking to be filled. Without even thinking or debating on what he was doing, Spike dove in, sticking his face into her cavern. He prodded her inner passage with a lolling tongue, delving in deep. Judging by her animalistic panting and tugging at the back of his unkempt hair, she was enjoying herself despite his non-existent knowledge of the art. He used his thumb to give a small unsure flick of her inflamed button and was rewarded with a hard shiver that came in waves from her head to her toes. She reluctantly pushed his head back and stared hard at him. The mage wiped a small trail of drool off her mouth that had formed during Spike's actions.
“Spike...” she panted. “I...”
He continued to run on instinct, guessing what she needed. He brought his member up, close to her entrance.
The boy pushed in, laying on top of Rarity as he did so. The tailor grasped his face with both hands and stared hard at his eyes as he penetrated. She winced slightly, her grip squeezing on him for a brief, flickering moment before he pulled out and thrust in once more.
She bit her lip, wrapping one hand around his narrow waist, and the other cradling his neck as he began to pick up a rhythm to his actions.
They continued, Spike thrusting and Rarity gasping with every plunge into her. She clutched at the white sheets, wringing her fingers through the silk as her body sang its pleasure to her. Her large breasts bounced and swayed on impact, only making Spike all the more hard. He leaned forward, placing one of her nipples in his mouth and delicately suckling it while massaging the other overfull mound of flesh with his palm, exploring its curves and supple boundaries.
“S-Spike!” she yelped in a high-pitched whine at the sensation, her shudder visible as a climax came. She brought him in even closer and put her hand on top of his as he squeezed her breast. She used her other hand to bring his face closer to hers, leaning up and kissing him deeply.
That did it for Spike. He moaned into her mouth and felt sweet relief as his warm seed erupted from his rock, filling her loins with his love.
After they both caught their breaths, Spike rolled off her and stared at the ceiling.
“Wow,” he said, unblinking.
Rarity nodded in agreement, her hair frazzled and splayed out on the bed. “Quite.”
They remained wordless, neither sure what to say in the situation. Spike made the first move, reaching over and entwining his fingers with Rarity's.
The woman looked over at Spike, who had just closed his eyes with a weary content smile, then down at her hand, and the lanky fingers wrapped protectively around her own.
It was strange that despite the sex, this is what brought the most heat to her face. The tailor moved Spike's hand to her heart and clutched it.
Outside, the cold wind howled. In here, together, they found warmth through the night.
000
Rarity awoke to the worst hangover she had ever experienced. As soon as her eyes opened, she let out a groan as the light all but blinded her. She moved to get out of bed but was stopped by an unfamiliar presence tangled with her limbs.
Spike laid next to her, his pale skin glowing in the small ray of light that peeked through the window to the side of her room. He lay there with his slightly open mouth and curly green hair. His cute little nose and smooth skin. Like a lovely porcelain doll.
She gave a troubled sigh, leaning back onto her pillow and biting hard at her lip.
Rarity knew what she had done last night—what Spike had done to her, and, more importantly, what she had done to him—Rarity was almost without a shadow of a doubt that Spike had never...
The tailor briefly glanced down her bare body in contemplation, Spike's pale arm around her waist, creating a line of stark contrast to her own skin.
Her sobriety had made things take on a more somber tone today. Last night she had been caught up in the heat of the moment, overcame with a longing for something that was far less superficial than the men she had tried to date again and again.
Spike was a kind, humble individual who Rarity knew cared about her. Last night, she had decided on a whim to see how much he cared for her. He had proven himself to her. Still, there was a problem she couldn't escape.
He was a boy.
A boy.
Rarity unwrapped his arms from her body and put a hand to her face, the pain of her hangover briefly forgotten as that simple truth rang like a funeral toll in her mind.
A boy. A boy just now entering the cruel clutches of puberty. A boy still in school, and here she was, playing the role of a harlot.
Don't call yourself that, she mentally rebuked herself. She rose from the bed, electing a small moan of protest from Spike. Without even a pause, she walked to the bathroom and took a few aspirin, then glanced at the mirror, grimly frowning at how tired she looked. She reached for a container of eye-shadow and quickly spruced herself up as Spike entered the bathroom. Rarity gasped, covering her body from his eyes as best she could. Spike seemed frozen, caught in a pair of metaphorical headlights.
“Uh...” he stammered, glancing over Rarity’s nude form. “S-sorry. I just needed to...”
“Get out,” Rarity growled through clenched teeth.
He gave a small raise of his brow. “S-sorry Rarity. I was just seeing if you had--”
“Get the hell out!” Rarity cried, grabbing a hand-towel and throwing it at him.
Spike flinched, cowering with his hands protecting his head and looking at Rarity with a mix of confusion and humiliation. He took a few steps out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Down the hallway, she could hear his steps tromping into her bedroom.
Rarity put a hand to her forehead. She shouldn't have snapped at him like that. Now she was just confusing the boy. After a beat, she opened the door. Spike was hurriedly putting on his pants, gazing across the bedroom to the window outside.
“Spikie?” she called out.
He turned, looking through the doorframe and out into the hall.
“We need to talk.”
000
An almost deafening click of a clock rang through the lounge. Rarity looked deeply into her teacup as she tried to avoid eye-contact with Spike. He sat across a small table and stared directly at the older woman, wringing his hands nervously.
It was Rarity who finally broke the ice. She glanced at the floor, before speaking.
“About last night....” she started, then paused, frowning.
Spike slowly nodded, glancing at the wall briefly before returning his attention to the tailor. “What about it?” he asked, crossing his leg over his lap.
“I...” Rarity fumbled for her words, not sure where to start. The clock marched on, each tick in-sync with her heartbeat as she stared across the room to the boy. The boy, the boy, nothing in your pretty little head but the boy, she thought with a frown. Rarity knew it wasn’t right--Twila and the girls would never approve, neither would anyone in the community. She had to make a break--she was starting to get a crazy, desperate feeling about Spike. One completely foreign to her in all her twenty-five years of living. She refused to pay those feelings any mind; rather, she continued to speak as she ran a hand through her combed hair. “It was a mistake. We both made one.”
Spike winced, looking as if she had just physically slapped him. He stared, open-mouthed at her words. “How can you say that?”
“How can I not, dar—Spike?” she replied, gaining a small morsel of confidence as she took a sip of tea from her shaking hands. “I was intoxicated and you...” She glanced at him over the rim of her cup. “You're going through changes. You simply got... caught up in the moment.”
He scowled. “That's not it!” he shouted back, his voice cracking slightly at the volume. “I don't—I-I didn't do that just because of how you look! Rarity, I know how I feel!”
“You're fourteen!” she shouted back, suddenly furious at his proclamation. “You know nothing about how you feel!” She calmed down after a moment, realizing how tightly she was clenching her hand to the cup. Sucking in a breath, she continued in a more subdued tone. “Besides... it can't work, even if you do feel as you say.”
“Why?” he asked, dumbstruck.
“Spike, darling... a few years older, and I could be your mother.” Rarity chose not to mention how being with him last night was also wrong in a legal sense—that was a completely different can of worms that churned her gut even at the slightest thought; she refused to dwell on it, continuing her line of reasoning, “B-besides, you need someone your own age that can—“
“I don't want someone my own age!” he snapped back, his fingers digging grooves into Rarity's pristine leather seat. He let out a slow, easy breath, willing himself to keep calm. Finally, he looked straight at her. “Rarity... I want you.”
She shook her head slowly, losing all trace of composure at his gaze. “Spike... I don't... w-we can't—“
“Last night,” he began, bringing his feet up to the seat of the chair and gazed down at his hands. “It meant a lot to me. Now you're telling me that what I think—w-what I feel isn't good enough? Why? Am I just another notch on your belt? D-do you not feel the same way about...?”
Rarity sighed and bit at her thumb, mumbling something under her breath. Spike cocked his head, leaning his ear forward.
“What was that Rar--”
“I don't know!” she shouted, making Spike visibly recoil in his chair. She put her hands to her temples. “I don't know why I did what I did, if it was the champagne, or-or what you were saying being so sweet and charming, or if it's because you've always been around to talk to with my problems or—I just don't know!” She covered her eyes with her hands and let out a choked sob. “Spike...”
“Y-yeah?” he asked, instantly on his feet.
“I need you to go.”
He took the words surprisingly well, giving a simple nod to her wish. The boy turned to leave the room.
“Please don't tell anyone about...”
“I know,” he said, disappointment in his words. “I won't say anything.”
With that, he left the boutique without a sound.
She rose, wiping the tears away from her eyes as she traveled upstairs once more. She knew in her head that she couldn't. She shouldn't. He had his own life to live, as did she.
Her heart, however, wouldn't shut up. There was a raw need in there, one the boy filled with every single thing he did for her. She knew, with him, they both could be happy. Maybe. Except for the fact that it just wouldn’t work thanks to their differences. Yet...
Rarity went to her bedroom and grabbed the sheets off her bed, intending to wash them and give herself at least a bit of distraction at the conflicting, painful thoughts that marched with her every step of the way to the sink.
A quick turn of the faucet and she tossed them into the basin. She froze when they came to rest in the rising water.
Rarity stared hard at the three small dime-sized specks of dried blood on the otherwise pristine sheets. They taunted her as they stared out of the quickly rising water. She summoned every ounce of will she had left to turn and look for bleach.
They had both lost something that night. She could only pray that some day, maybe something could be found.
Written by: Admiral Biscuit Contains: M/F, SexDerpy sighed, hanging her hooves over the edge of a cloud. School had been out all week, and she was bored. She was used to the normal bustle of Cloudsdale, but her parents had been sent to Ponyville to supplement the local weather patrol. It wasn’t unexpected—she’d moved around a few times already as a filly—but it was still annoying. She’d quickly made friends here, although she’d been teased a few times at school because of her eyes and because she was a year behind the other ponies. The new Ponyville school teacher seemed to feel that everypony should know all about Equestrian history, but Derpy didn’t really think like the Ponic Wars were worth remembering and had a hard time paying attention in class, especially since she’d graduate in a few short months.
The ponies had just finished Winter Wrap-Up, and although she’d been looking forward to participating since she was a little filly, she’d found herself unable to focus at all. She’d been on a team with a group of younger fillies—most of them just barely flying—and their instructor had muttered something about herding cats. Nevertheless, they managed to eventually clear their assigned patch of sky, grouping the clouds and handing them off to the experienced pegasi on the weather team.
At first, the feeling of bucking a cloud apart had been thrilling, but the excitement had quickly worn off into tedium. She was a pretty strong flier, but she’d had to slow her pace to avoid leaving the younger pegasi behind. Her attention had been drawn to a unicorn stallion on the ground, who was patiently drawing a plow. Derpy’d never really paid much attention to stallions before, but there was something about the way his muscles moved that caught her eye. She’d seen the sweat glistening on his coat and found herself admiring his tenacity. Everypony knew that unicorns weren’t really strong enough for farm labor, yet there he was....
She flexed her wings. They were aching, which she attributed to her long periods of flight yesterday. It still seemed odd, since she spent a lot of time in the air. Her father had told her that if she wanted to be a good flyer that she had to practice all the time—but she remembered that her teacher had told her that working clouds drew on a pegasus’ magic, so maybe that was why she was so tired. She felt hot and achey, too. Maybe she was coming down with feather flu.
She flicked her tail impatiently. It wouldn’t hurt to glide for a bit. She could fly towards the lake, maybe roll around in the shallows a little bit and relax her muscles.
She wasn’t the only pony with that thought in mind. There were dozens of fillies and colts sunning themselves on the beach under the watchful eyes of their mothers, and a few brave souls splashed each other in the shallows. She wondered why there weren’t more ponies in the water—until she belly-flopped in herself. Too late, she remembered that the lake had been covered in ice until yesterday, and the water had hardly warmed above the freezing point. With a startled yelp, she jumped back out of the water, earning her a few chuckles from the beach.
Derpy flopped down on the sand, holding her wings out to dry, and settled on ponywatching. She was unsurprised to feel the eyes of the other ponies on her—there weren’t any other pegasi on the beach. In fact, it seemed an exclusive earth pony enclave. Seeing a couple of adults whispering to each other after her show, her ears reddened, but she didn’t let that stop her from preening. Let them gossip. They might as well get used to pegasi. I’m going to spend a lot of my free time at this beach.
Finally, off to the side, she noticed a trio of unicorns come down to the beach. The mare looked kind of familiar—she was a bright lemon-yellow with three blue gems as a cutie mark. Derpy was sure she’d seen her around before.
She was accompanied by two unicorn stallions, one walking right next to her, while the second—the one she’d been watching plow—trailed behind. He was a beautiful steel blue color. A gloriously curly grey and white mane flowed down his back, like foam on a wave. She couldn’t help watching as he moved around the beach, the muscles in his rump and withers flexing as he walked.
The couple sat down on the beach side-by-side and began rubbing noses. Her unicorn paced around, trying to ignore the other two. He said something to the other stallion, and then slowly trudged off the beach, back in the direction of Ponyville. She watched him slowly walk away—and it was a sight worth watching. She’d never really paid attention to how a stallion’s hindquarters swayed when he walked, with the tail swishing in a countermotion. She licked her lips. She was getting really hot on the beach and needed to find some shade, or something.
She followed him towards town. Normally, she would have been admiring the newly-budding trees, or listening to the birds—spirit cousins to the pegasi. Not today. Derpy found herself wondering where the unicorn lived, what he did, what his name was. He had an hourglass cutie mark, but what did that mean?
Lost in her thoughts, she went around a bend in the road and discovered he had vanished.
Frustrated, she took wing, searching for a sign of the stallion. There weren’t any houses around her. so where had he gone?
She finally found him sitting under a willow tree. Derpy circled around before landing behind the stallion. He tilted his muzzle up in the air as she approached, flicking an ear in her direction. When he turned and saw her, he looked quite interested.
“Hi, my name’s Ditzy but everypony calls me Derpy ‘cause I run into stuff a lot because of my eyes,” she began brightly. She’d always been a friendly pony. “I saw you plowing a field a couple of days ago, then I saw you at the beach. I don’t see too many unicorns around here.” She paused in thought. Sometimes, ponies didn’t like a whole lot of conversation all at once, but he still seemed interested.
“I was kind of heading into town, because it was too hot at the beach. Which is funny because it’s so early in the spring. I saw you were, too, but then you went off the path and I found you here. What are you doing here?” She shifted around on her hooves. Her skin felt all tingly, like when she got too close to a cloud that had lightning in it.
“I—um—I came here to relax.” He looked at her flank curiously. She proudly wiggled it for him, showing off her relatively new cutie mark. It had appeared just before her last growth spurt. She’d come up with a clever explanation to her parents—which she’d since forgotten—but the truth was she had just been soaring around on thermals, feeling the gentle play of air currents around her, when she suddenly felt a warm sensation on her hips, and there it was. Too many ponies put too much faith in them anyways, thinking they were some kind of destiny or something. Who cared if she had bubbles on her butt, or something else? She was who she was, and no mark was going to change that.
“Mmm, me too.” She moved closer to him. There was something about him that was almost magnetic. Maybe it was the way that his eyes kept running over her body. Nopony had ever looked at her with such—such interest before.
“You’re cute.” Derpy nuzzled his cheek, which earned a slight cough from him. He seemed tense. “You smell nice, too,” she added.
He shifted away from her, moving a few steps back. “Don’t you think you’re being a little forward?”
She swished her tail back and forth impatiently. “Nope, I don’t think so.” Celestia, it was hot. She felt like she was burning up. She wondered if she should fly back to the lake again. Still, she’d rather stay here. With him. He was sweating a little, too, she noticed. “Are you all right?”
“I—maybe I should—I don’t know if now is a good time.” He was awkwardly backing away from her, which was not what she wanted.
“It does seem hot,” Derpy conceded, moving towards him. “But I like being here with you. I like it a lot.”
“It’s just—I . . . ” his voice trailed off, and she noticed that he was blushing.
“There’s nothing to be scared of.” She reached a wing out and gently bumped the tip of his nose. “I won’t hurt you.”
“That’s not what . . . oh, to Tartarus with it.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
Derpy felt her face flush. She hadn’t kissed a stallion before, but it felt . . . really good. It felt like such a perfect thing to be doing, out here in the woods, where they were all alone.
He finally broke the kiss and stepped back, hanging his head as if he were ashamed. She suddenly noticed that he was unsheathed. She unconsciously licked her lips. “Do you have to pee? That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. There’s nopony else here to—um.” His face turned even redder when he realized she was staring.
She felt a flash of heat pass through her body. It was as if the temperature had just shot up a couple of dozen degrees. Her tail just wouldn’t stay still, and now her ears were twitching, too.
“I just want . . . " She looked at him, licking her lips again. “I want you. Now.”
“Are you—are you serious?” He looked uncomfortable.
Familiar sensations were filling her mind. Before, they’d been something she could take care of herself, with a hoof or—if she was feeling particularly adventurous—a wingtip. This time, that wasn’t going to do. Her whole body was crying out for this stallion.
She lifted her tail and wiggled her rump a little. She’d heard the older fillies say that this drove stallions wild, although she couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t like she’d never seen—well, those parts—on another mare, and it hadn’t done anything for her.
But maybe they knew something she didn’t, because aside from a short flicker of indecision on his face, he came trotting right over, his penis bouncing around stiffly.
She’d heard gossip about how much stallions liked it when mares used their mouths, but she wasn’t really sure how to go about doing it. Should she kiss the tip? Lick it? She could put it in her mouth—she was pretty sure she’d heard Sassaflash say something about that—but he’d have to lie on his back, and what if he didn’t like it? He might lose interest if she did it wrong. There had been those issues of Playmare that Raindrops had, but there were only close-ups, so it was hard to judge the overall mechanics of the act.
But she didn’t really have time to think about it any more, because he had already climbed up on her back, and she could feel him gently pushing on her, and then he was moving inside. It wasn’t quite as romantic as she’d imagined, especially as he tried to get a good angle and his hoof bumped into her head.
He started off slowly, much to her relief. As immediate and vital as the act seemed, she’d tensed when she first felt him enter, so it kind of hurt, but it was a good hurt. The two of them finally managed to establish a rhythm, and as the pleasure grew she wanted him deeper and deeper inside. He leaned his head forwards and began gently nibbling on her ear, which elicited a deep moan.
Unexpectedly, he changed his tactic to quick, deep strokes. She could feel him brushing against her incredibly sensitive clitoris at the apex of every thrust, and she locked up her legs, feeling as if she were drawing her pleasure from the earth itself. Her wings were stretched so tight she wondered if they could rip off her body.
He tensed, gave one more thrust, and held it for what seemed like forever, before letting out a long shaky breath that blew her mane into her eyes. He pulled back, and she wondered if that was it. She thought she’d heard Sassaflash say that stallions did that when they came, but she wasn’t sure. It hadn’t been a conversation meant for her ears; she’d just heard part of it while they were showering after a long day at flight camp.
When she felt him begin to move again—this time with less urgency—it dispelled her thoughts. Her stallion managed to regain his earlier tempo, but this time she wasn’t moving at all, save for her front hooves slowly sliding against the grass with each thrust. She could feel the climax building, but when it came, it was with a quickness and primal ferocity she’d never felt before. Her knees buckled and she slid down on the ground, wondering if it was possible to die from pleasure.
She felt him stumble and shift his weight on her back, accidentally brushing a hoof across her extremely sensitive wing. He slipped out of her and tried to put it back in, but the angle just wasn’t right any more. He brushed against her rump, slid off the left side of her tail, and then ejaculated across her back. She didn’t care. She was still coming down from her orgasm and just now remembering to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s ok.” She stretched out on the grass. She’d never really noticed how comfortable grass was. It was harder than a cloud—that was indisputable—but it smelled so nice. She rubbed her muzzle on the ground, closed her eyes, and in a few minutes was sound asleep.
She woke up long after sunset. The moon was high in the cloudless sky. There was a warm weight pressing up against her left side, and for a moment she wondered what—or who—it was, and why there was a strip of fur on her back that felt like it’d been glued down, but it all came back to her in a flash.
She bounded to her hooves, feeling more alive than ever before. Normally, she’d have been scared waking up after dark in an unfamiliar place, but this time everything seemed just perfect. She looked over at the sleeping stallion and smiled. There was something right about the scene. The mare in the moon looked serenely down upon the two lovers, casting everything in a gentle half-light. While the actual act hadn’t been what she’d imagined, this post-coital scene was so perfect, she couldn’t disturb it right away. Instead, she watched the slow rise and fall of his barrel as he slept.He jerked awake and looked around guiltily.
“Do you want me to walk you home? Do you live in Ponyville?”
He shook his head. “I’m from Canterlot. I’m staying with my older brother for the week. My parents wanted . . . um, I can find my own way home. I’ll be—it’s less—I mean, I won’t, er, I’ll be fine on my own. Just fine.”
“Ok,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll see you around maybe?”
“Um, yeah. Sure, I’ll be around.” He half-heartedly waved a hoof at her, before walking back towards the path.
Derpy watched him leave, deep in thought. She wondered why he was acting so weird. Were all stallions like that after sex? Maybe he was mad because she hadn’t put it in her mouth. She should probably ask an older mare who knew stuff like that. Still, it didn’t spoil her earlier mood.
She stretched her wings and looked up at the sky. She was going to have to get home and get cleaned up. At least both her parents were on night duty, so they’d never know when she got back home. She giggled. They’d never know what she’d been up to.
“What do you mean, she’s pregnant? How does that even happen?” Her mom’s shrill voice echoed throughout the house. She hadn’t wanted to go see the doctor, but her father had insisted. The occasional vomiting in the morning had been an unpleasant surprise and had been what had prompted her father to take her in. The doctor had revealed—to her total lack of surprise—that she was pregnant. She’d come to the conclusion on her own, but wanted to wait for a good time to bring it up. Never would have been the best time to broach the subject, but of course she’d start showing eventually.
“A unicorn! Your daughter is pregnant with a unicorn?” Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that her mother’s voice could get shrill enough to break glass, but it suddenly seemed possible. Ears flattened, she imagined the scene in her parent’s room. Her father would probably be cowering in the corner, waiting for her mother to begin throwing things.
She’d read Withering Heights in school, and she always remembered the scene when the poor stallion was crouched in his chambers, listening to the hooffalls of his tormentor growing closer and closer. In a cloud house, she didn’t even get that much warning before her mother flew into her room, fluttering around angrily.
“Who was it?” she demanded. “Where did you meet him?”
“I don’t know.” Derpy hung her head. “He lives in Canterlot. I don’t know his name.”
“You let some stallion knock you up and you don’t even know his name?” She stomped over and lifted Derpy’s head. “How are you supposed to raise a unicorn in a cloud house? I bet you didn’t even think of that, did you?”
“Everypony says you can’t get pregnant the first time,” Derpy muttered miserably. “I didn’t know—I mean, it’s not like I planned this.”
“Obviously not.” Her mom glared at her. “I’m not going to move to a house on the ground, like some common mudpony. There’s only one solution, and let me tell you, young lady, the cost of the abortion spell is coming out of your allowance, and you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”
As if in protest, Depry felt her foal buck inside of her. She winced, but it was with new resolution that she looked back at her mother. “What if I don’t?”
Her mother’s gaze bore into her. “You’ve already made one mistake, young lady; don’t go making another. There’s only room in this house for one lead mare, and you’re not it.” She stormed out of the room like a wrathful god.
Derpy lay curled up in the hospital bed. The unicorn doctor had told her it wouldn’t hurt, but he’d lied. It hurt a lot. She’d mistakenly believed that she’d feel some sort of relief after it was over, but that wasn’t true, either. All she felt was pain and a vast emptiness inside.
Her mother had made good on her threats, kicking Derpy out of the house. She’d stayed with Soarin and Blaze, who were sharing a tiny cloudominium. It was really crowded for two ponies and nearly untenable for three; besides, she’d have to find a ground home before her foal was born. Her pitiful savings had vanished like a gem in front of a hungry dragon, and she finally had to make her decision. By this point, her mother was so disgusted with her that she didn’t even come along. Her father did, which was nice, even if he had to wait in another room.
The nurse finally came back into the room, bearing a small bundle. She gently placed it next to Derpy’s head, pulling the swaddling cloth back so that Derpy could get a good look at her new daughter.
“She’s beautiful.” Derpy gently nuzzled her, eyes drawn to the tiny horn protruding above her forehead. All the pain of the birth, of being ejected from her home, of her mother’s wrath—they all vanished in an instant, replaced by the tiny face of her newborn foal and the tiny, trusting eyes that looked into her own golden eyes. It was the greatest thing she’d ever made; that it had been an accident mattered not one whit.
Instinctively, she shifted around, moving her hind legs so that the foal could get to her nipples. “I bet you’re hungry, little muffin. You put up quite the struggle. You’re going to be a real fighter some day.”
She was blissfully watching her daughter suckle when her father walked into the room. He looked uncomfortable, judging by the way he was fluffing his wings. Finally he cleared his throat.
“Ditzy, I know—well, mother’s quite strong-willed. She’ll come around, eventually, but it’s going to take some time. But she loves you, in her own way, and she only wants what’s best for you. I guess we both do.”
“Father, we are not going to have this discussion now,” she hissed. “She’s mine and I’m going to keep her, no matter what the cost. I’ll find a way. I’ve made myself perfectly clear.”
“Yes. You have.” He sighed. “Look—this whole thing—it’s been, well. I guess, what I want to say, you know mother controls the purse strings, but I’ve some bits put aside. Not a lot, mind, but enough to get you by, at least for a time, until you could get a job. I was hoping—never mind. I found a house here in Ponyville that you could rent, since you want to keep the foal.”
“Really?” Derpy’s eyes lit up. “You—you’d do that? For me? Even after I went and—”
“Ssh.” He moved closer to her, his earlier awkwardness forgotten. “A healthy foal is a gift. Some say a blessing from Celestia Herself.” He hugged her tightly. “I see in your eyes the same love I felt the moment I first saw you. Maybe this was meant to be. You’ve always been so friendly, so—so bubbly. Maybe your love is just too big to keep up in the clouds.”
He moved over to her foal and nuzzled her tiny cheek, eliciting a small happy squeak before she went back to nursing.
“It’s going to be hard to raise a foal by yourself, and you’re going to have to get a job, so you’ll need a foalsitter, too. I guess your old da still remembers a thing or two about foals, and I’ll be glad to help whenever I can.” He sighed again. “Even if mother doesn’t understand.”
Written by: bobdat Contains: F/F, Foreplay, Dildo playNervously tucking a strand of yellow mane behind her ear, Dainty Dove chewed her lip. The receptionist had been nothing but courteous and friendly, but Dainty never felt safe in this situation. It only took one pony who recognised her from the business pages of The Equestrian and her career would be ruined. Her life would be ruined, since she had nothing except her job.
“Just hoof-print here and I can give you your key,” the receptionist said, sliding a piece of pink paper across the glossy counter. Dainty hoof-stamped it rather harder than was necessary before giving it back.
“Here’s your key. Please enjoy your stay at the Grand Eagle.”
Briefcase in hand, Dainty used the lift to reach the top floor. She’d only brought a change of clothes, which she had managed to stash inside her usual work case. The tricky part was over - in a few moments, she’d be safely inside the room and nopony could disturb her.
The plastic key slid into the lock and the green light came on, so Dainty pushed inside. It looked like any other hotel room. The businesspony always rotated which hotel she went to, in case somepony noticed a pattern or she got recognised. The Grand Eagle was a first, but it looked comfortable enough.
It only took five minutes for there to be a knock at the door. Dainty hastened to open it. She’d put her briefcase in the wardrobe and slipped off her jacket then spent the remaining time freshening up.
“Who is it?” she said quietly, her muzzle inches from the door.
“You know,” a breathless voice said. Dainty opened the heavy door, allowing the pony in. The pony in question was Ginger Gold, a junior bank teller in the South Manehatten division of her bank.
“I took the stairs so nopony would work out which floor I was going to,” Ginger explained, getting her breath back. Instead of carrying a sleek briefcase, she was clutching a pair of tatty saddlebags.
“That’s okay. Nopony recognised you?” Dainty asked, unable to keep the nerves out of her voice.
Ginger’s face softened. “Of course not, honey.”
The yellow-maned pony nodded. “You can wash your face in the bathroom if you like. I’ve just been in there.”
Ginger shut herself in the en suite, taking deep breaths to steady herself. A small cosmetics case slid out of a saddlebag and she re-applied her make-up. She’d been waiting in the bar, drinking virgin cocktails, waiting for her boss to arrive. She’d worn a smart dress, but it was nothing in comparison to the tuxedos and evening gowns of the ponies staying at the hotel. Ginger vowed to one day have enough to stay in a posh hotel herself, before tucking her curls into place and going back into the room.
The other mare was lying on the bed, idly flicking through the television channels. She was staring at the stocks and shares, looking uninterested, when Ginger placed a hoof on her bare shoulder.
“Oh, honey,” Ginger said softly when Dainty jumped. “You need to relax. Here, let me.” Dainty kept the share indices on while Ginger straddled her back and began one of her special backrubs. Dainty didn’t need to know that she’d perfected them on the pigs back on her parents’ farm.
It usually only took a couple of minutes for Dainty to start moaning softly, but she seemed to be wound extra-tight today. Ginger put some more effort into it and fantasized about being the owner of a huge apple orchard, yellow apples hanging from every bough. This was all just part of that dream; she’d told herself she’d do whatever it took. Nothing could take the smell of fallen leaves and the feel of the wind from her.
“Mmm...” Dainty said, flicking the television off. “You’re so good...”
“Sshh. Just lie there and let me take care of you,” the yellow-coated mare replied in her most honeyed voice, her hooves sliding across the back of Dainty’s shoulders.
Ginger climbed off to get the massage oil from her bag. Dainty sighed happily and took a smug satisfaction from what the block-headed stallions in her office would think about this. Their boss, the inflexible bitch, lying underneath a smouldering young mare with massage oil on her hooves...
The sudden weight of Ginger on her back made Dainty breathe out quickly. Ginger giggled and poked her playfully. “Hey, I’m not that heavy, am I?”
“You’re just perfect,” Dainty replied, pulling her mane across her shoulders to give Ginger better access.
The oil was warm and soothing, and Ginger’s hooves were expert, so Dainty quickly drifted into a light sleep, enjoying the sensations and the respite from her high-powered office lifestyle. The nerves from earlier in the day melted away into the soft bedclothes, and the vice-president of Chater Holdings & Investments Incorporated resigned herself to a blissful weekend of relaxation.
“Oh yeah...” she whispered, Ginger’s hooves roaming across the broad of her back, occasionally sliding down to her sides. This was what she lived for.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Ginger whispered directly into Dainty’s ear. Her boss had fallen asleep, of course, so Ginger had finished the massage. Now she needed to do the front. “I’ve got something special for you.”
“Hmm?” Dainty asked, rolling onto her back. They hadn’t put a towel down, but who cared. These weren’t her bedclothes, and she was too relaxed to bother with annoying towels.
“Yeah, a special massage...” the other pony replied. Her lips met Dainty’s neck, sending a shiver down the businesspony’s back.
“Be... gentle,” Dainty breathed, her eyes fluttering closed again. She wanted to focus on the sensations with her entire being.
Ginger smiled. “Of course, honey. Just let me take good care of you.” She went back to kissing, nibbling quickly on the line of Dainty’s jaw before leaving a winding trail of kisses down to the tip of her hoof. She felt the white pony shiver again and suppressed a smile, working her way back up her leg and finally meeting her mouth.
The white pony responded with a flash of tongue, enough to be tantalising but not enough to be passionate... yet. Ginger pressed her, spreading kisses around her face and finishing with one on her nose. There was a romantic pause before Ginger moved in for another kiss, this time their tongues meeting. A moan escaped from Ginger, and she could feel the familiar sensations of arousal coursing through her. Dainty’s hooves wrapped around her back, pulling her harder into the kiss, turning it into a sudden rush of heat. Ginger was reminded of their first rendezvous and the pure excitement of the encounter.
Dainty wanted to kiss her partner for as long as possible, but her need was urging her to take action. Almost unconsciously she moved her hooves to Ginger’s shoulders, applying a little downward pressure. Ginger had felt it enough times to know what Dainty wanted, and she kissed lazily down to Dainty’s midsection. Every kiss felt like a firework, sending a jolt directly through her. “Ohhh,” the businesspony moaned, arching her back and shifting her legs apart invitingly.
Ginger didn’t fall for the gesture immediately. Her lips and hooves carefully teased a leg, then another, then her midsection again. Dainty was going wild, squirming as if Ginger was tickling her. But Ginger knew what she was doing, and gradually increasing her partner’s arousal step by step was a tactic that had never failed. It had taken many happy hours of practice in college, whiling away Saturday nights in her room-mate’s bed, for her to gain skills. As with everything, practice made perfect. And perfect was so, so good.
The gentle smell of perfume, which Dainty had applied moments before Ginger had knocked, were slowly giving way to her particular smell. The first few moments of it were enough to drive the younger mare crazy, and she gave in to her instincts. The next trail of kisses led directly to Dainty, and a loud moan left the white pony’s lips. Daisy felt her head being pulled closer, so she simply closed her eyes and slipped into her special technique. She didn’t even need to do much; her careful foreplay had left Dainty so worked up that those tell-tale signs of release were appearing after only a few seconds.
“Not so soon...” Ginger teased, breathing over Dainty’s sex with a measured tone. The older mare just moaned in ecstasy and pulled Ginger back to her, eliciting a small giggle.
“Oh yes...” Dainty said, her voice rising steadily to a squeak. Ginger found the perfect spot and she shuddered, feeling the oncoming train of her orgasm. “Yes...”
Being a skilled lover, Ginger didn’t let up, letting Dainty ride the waves of her pleasure and yet making even bigger ones for the future. Dainty’s grip relaxed, and Ginger gave her a few long, slow licks.
“Mmm,” Dainty said, smiling as Ginger sat up. “Wow.”
Ginger blushed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, honey, there’s plenty more for you.”
“My turn first,” the older mare said, gently pushing the yellow pony onto her back and peppering her with kisses.
“If you insist...” Ginger replied, laying back and looking at the ceiling. This was her favourite part, and her body had been building up to it every minute since she had last seen Dainty. “Oh. Yeah.”
Dainty might not have been world-class, but she had a gift, and Ginger could feel the ripples going through her. This was simply divine. As if on cue, Dainty’s tongue darted inside, giving her a jolt, but then slid inside with the utmost gentleness. A long moan escaped the younger mare, her legs spreading further. She needed it deeper... more of it. It was just too good. “That’s it, honey... oh yeah that’s it.”
The older mare had nothing like as much practice as her partner, but she knew what pushed her buttons. She snaked her tongue forwards again, teasing every inch she could get to, and Ginger thrashed her forehooves. Dainty shifted her chin, pressing into Ginger, and sliding her tongue as deep as she could. Another moan and the white mare pulled back, concentrating her butterfly kisses on her partner, maintaining a steady pace and pressing hard. It only took a few minutes of her ministrations for Ginger to suddenly go rigid and scream, biting down on a pillow.
Once she’d calmed down, Ginger kissed Dainty carefully, still feeling sensitive. “That was incredible,” the yellow pony said, starting to kiss back down Dainty’s neck.
The white pony smiled in return, but she still wasn’t satisfied. She needed more from this session. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a black harness, which Ginger stared at uncomfortably.
“Come on, just for me,” Dainty pleaded. “It’ll be fun.”
“I told you last time...” Ginger replied warily. “It’s not so fun for me.”
Dainty pouted. “I’ll be gentle...”
Resigning herself, Ginger rolled onto her front and sighed. Victory assured, Dainty attached the dildo to the harness and slid it around her hips, making sure it sat flush against her for maximum pleasure. She couldn’t understand why Ginger didn’t enjoy it more, being that she was the bisexual one who enjoyed penetration.
Ginger didn’t make a sound as Dainty rubbed the tip of the toy across her lips, but she took it into her mouth when Dainty moaned slightly. Blowjobs had always turned her off, but Dainty liked it and it was probably a good chance to practice.
Sliding in and out of Ginger’s mouth, Dainty placed a hoof gently on one side of the yellow mare’s head, using the leverage to gently push more and more of her length inside. Ginger didn’t object, so the speed increased. The power trip gave Dainty a rush, and she found herself pulling the toy out of her partner’s mouth and positioning herself to penetrate Ginger.
“Go slow at first,” Ginger said, her voice betraying a mechanical tone. Dainty didn’t like upsetting her, but she was a slave to her desires. The toy inched its way inside, passing resistance and sliding home with a satisfying moan from Ginger.
Of course, the yellow mare had been with her fair share of inept boyfriends back home. She’d got used to staring at the ceiling as they fumbled around, and Dainty was just the same. The length pushing into her, stretching her just perfectly... that felt good. But the thrusting behind it was amateurish and she occasionally felt bursts of slight pain. Not the good kind.
“Slow down,” she snapped when Dainty pushed hard and the toy went in at an angle.
“Sorry,” Dainty replied. The power trip was disappearing, being replaced with a feeling of belittlement.
But there was one way of getting that back. She gently withdrew the toy, and Ginger began to roll onto her back, glad the ordeal was over. But Dainty thrusted forwards, the toy pressing up against Ginger’s rear passage. Just the act made Dainty moan with anticipation, but Ginger didn’t agree.
“Not today, sugar,” she said, completing the roll onto her back and pushing the toy away. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Please? Everything’s ready...” Dainty replied, suddenly feeling a flash of guilt.
“No,” Ginger said simply, sitting up. “Sorry.”
Dainty wasn’t used to being told what to do. She was the boss, not some little upstart teller who was only here because her boss was paying. “Please, Ginger? I really want it,” she replied sharply.
“If you keep pushing me, I’ll leave.”
“Well what good is you staying here if you’re not in the mood?” It was a heat of the moment phrase and Dainty instantly regretted it, but Ginger was already hurt. Jumping up, she grabbed her bag, ignoring Dainty’s apologies.
“If you can’t respect me, I don’t want to fuck you,” Ginger said once she was dressed, pushing past the ridiculous-looking businesspony and heading for the door.
“Can I call you?” Dainty said, but Ginger didn’t look back and slammed the door behind her. Tears formed on Dainty’s face as she sank onto the bed, her lingering arousal fading into abject guilt. She’d allowed her career to come into the bedroom and it had betrayed her in a big way. A blissful day of lovemaking was ruined and she might never even see Ginger again.
Their relationship had originally been one of mutual benefit, but Dainty realised she’d grown attached to the yellow mare. The sex was amazing, but she’d liked the companionship too. Maybe there wasn’t a serious relationship there, but there was a feeling that she’d lost a friend. Sobbing, she made her way into the en suite and tried to clean her ruined make-up with a tissue.
Ginger didn’t even care who saw her as she stormed out of the hotel, hailing a taxi to take her home. She’d thought that Dainty at least cared about her as a pony, but she sounded like she only wanted sex. Her words hadn’t hurt because of the insult, but because of the way they made her feel dirty. Like she was a whore and was only there at Dainty’s whim. There had always been a fine line between sleeping with ponies to get ahead in her career and whoring herself out, but Dainty had made it obvious which side she was on.
There was no way Dainty would fire her for this, but she realised that it would probably hurt her chances of future promotions. No money meant no farm and no dream. In the back of the cab, she held up her forehooves. Two options. The left hoof meant calling Dainty, apologising and setting up another meeting. More time spent lying there with her eyes on the ceiling. Right hoof meant quitting her job and trying to find another position. Hours of trawling newspapers and waiting outside offices.
She sighed and rested her head on both the left and right hooves. She didn’t want to see Dainty after what she’d said, but the white mare might be her only chance for a happy career. Waitressing didn’t suit her grand ambitions. But was her dignity worth that? The apologetic phone call would erase any shreds of it that remained, and it would only be a month before the awful toy would be poking her there again. And this time she’d have to say yes. The cab rumbled onwards and she just stared out of the window, wishing for a different life where she could achieve her dreams.
The night was waning, the sun having long ago slipped beyond the horizon. With only the streetlights to guide them, they stumbled up to the doorstep, laughing too hard to bother walking straight.
He glanced up at her as she stood on her doorstep, fishing a key out of her small saddlebag. He already knew how this night was going to end, they always ended the same way. She would smile at him, they would wrap up whatever conversation they were in the middle of, share a kiss, and then she would go inside, leaving him to make his way home.
They had been dating for almost three months at this point, and she was still a bit shy around him. When he first moved into town, he was ashamed to admit that he never even noticed her, despite seeing her almost everyday.
Then one day he had finally seen her. She had come into the shop he was working at, looking to make a purchase. As soon as he saw her, he had thought her to be beautiful, easily the most beautiful mare in town.
He had followed her around the store with his eyes, making sure to never leave the counter unless it looked like she needed help. The way she moved, how she effortlessly put her desired items into her shopping bag as she wandered the store, she was a pony who screamed grace.
When she was satisfied with her items, she made for the counter. Quickly he made sure his mane was flat and his breath smelled alright.
“Hello,” he greeted her.
“Hello,” she said, her voice quiet. She set her bag on the counter. “I’d like to purchase these, please.” Despite barely being able to hear her, he could pick out a musical quality to her voice.
“Of course,” he responded. He took a look at what she had in the bag, even though he already knew it from watching her. Running some tallies in his head, he arrived at a number. Taking a closer look at her, how her mane hung over and slightly hid her left eye, how her right eye shifted around nervously, he made a few subtractions from that number.
“That’ll be twenty five bits, please, ma’am.”
Her eyes widened, allowing him to see their bright color. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Indeed. We have some specials and sales going on today.”
She looked around at the store. “I don’t see anything saying that.”
He faltered. “Um, well... We’re keeping them secret so we make sure to... Um... Make sure we have enough stock for everypony.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he thought he had been caught. But without saying anything, she opened her saddlebag and removed the requisite coins, handing them over.
He deposited the money into the register. “Be sure to come back often, you never know when we might be having another sale.”
She nodded, her muzzle breaking out into a smile. “Okay, thanks.” She left the store, taking her new items with her.
As soon as she was out of sight, he sighed. Taking out his own money, he paid off the rest of her bill. This way his boss wouldn’t miss anything. “Worth it just to see her smile,” he said.
He had seen her in the store again on several occasions; each time his heart fluttered. He loved to watch her as she browsed, to hear her voice as she spoke to him. On her third visit he gathered the courage to leave the counter and approach her, attempting to strike up a conversation. A mostly one-sided conversation as it turned out, as she didn’t have much to say.
On her fifth visit, the conversation was more two-way. He delighted in her voice, trying to give her as many opportunities to speak just so he could hear it as much as possible. By the time her ninth visit rolled around, they were conversing easily.
It wasn’t until her fourteenth visit that he allowed himself to give in to his heart’s desire. “So I have a question for you,” he said.
She looked at him expectantly, forgetting about her shopping for the moment.
“Wouldyouliketogotodinnerwithme?” he asked, the words tripping over themselves in their haste to get out.
Her looked quickly morphed into one of confusion. “Excuse me?” she said.
He paused, drawing in a strengthening breath. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
Her eyes widened, once more allowing him to gaze into their depths. He imagined he could jump into those deep pools and get lost forever. Her carefully carried bag fell to the floor, somehow staying upright.
When she didn’t answer, he hurried to retract his question. “I’m sorry, that was wrong of me to ask. Here, let me get that for you.” He made to grab her bag, but was stopped when he felt a hoof on his own.
He looked down, following the hoof to its owner. Never before had they touched. Her coat felt so smooth, so soft on his. Vaguely he became aware that he was staring, but he didn’t care.
“Yes,” she said. “I would like to go to dinner with you.”
Even knowing it was impossible, he tried to suppress the grin that broke out on his face. “Great! I get off at six, so how about I pick you up at six-thirty?”
She nodded. “Yes, that works for me.” She told him where she lived and together they simply finished her shopping.
After she left, he pumped a hoof in the air, dancing around behind the counter. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” he said. He was still dancing several minutes later when another customer entered the store.
The date had gone well that night, and as he dropped her off, she surprised him by leaning over and placing a very small, very light kiss on his muzzle. “Thank you for tonight, I had fun,” she said. Turning around and opening her door, she paused. “Goodnight.”
Somehow his brain managed to convince his voice to spit out the word, “Goodnight.” She closed her door, leaving him standing on her doorstep.
He licked his lips. The first thing he tasted was what he had for dinner, but the second was a hint of strawberries, something that was lacking from the meal. “Wow,” was all he could say before heading home, floating all the way on cloud nine.
That was three months ago. They had gone on more dates since then and grown closer to each other. But now his focus was on the gorgeous mare standing on her doorstep.
“I really had fun tonight, thank you,” she said. Her voice was still quiet, even after getting used to being around him.
He smiled at her. “You’re welcome, I had fun too.” He waited, expecting her to lean forward and give him a kiss. While it was true that their goodbye kisses had been growing a bit more passionate lately, they were still nothing more than kisses.
She shuffled her hooves, as if debating something. He felt his heart leap up, but quickly quashed it, not wanting to give himself hope.
“Would you...” her voice trailed off for a moment before coming back. “Would you like to come inside?”
His mind froze, not expecting to hear that. Even in his wildest dreams he couldn’t imagine her asking this.
Not trusting his voice, he nodded. She gave him a smile and opened her door, stepping in and aside, allowing him entry.
He made his way inside, managing to not trip over himself in his haste. Once inside, he looked around. Even after three months of dating, he’d never been inside her house. All he knew of it was what he could see from when she opened the door to come or go.
It was a cozy house, with scattered furniture. As befit her personality, it was clean, with no trash or detritus scattered around. She led him over to a couch sitting across from a small fireplace. Without being asked to, he sat on the couch.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Her face fell. “Oh,” she said.
Before he could say anything else, she got up on the couch and sat next to him, her body snuggling up against his. He twirled one foreleg around hers, holding her hoof. He still delighted on how her coat felt, always so smooth, so soft. She always had a pleasant scent of strawberries around her. Not overpowering, noticeable yet subtle.
They sat in silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say. Distantly voices could be heard, other ponies walking past, but inside the house, there was only quiet.
So-” they both spoke up at the same time.
“You first,” they said in unison once more.
They giggled like schoolfoals. “Go on.” He gestured for her to speak.
She smiled. “I really did have a good time tonight. The food was delicious and the music was good.”
“Thank you,” he replied. He’d been planning this date for two weeks, making reservations and getting tickets.
“You’ve been so nice to me,” she continued. “Always paying for everything, being the perfect gentlecolt. I know you don’t make much working at that store, which makes this all the more special.”
He shook his head. “You’re worth it,” was all he said.
Her smile was fading, being replaced with a nervous look. The joy in his heart faded slightly, being replaced with apprehension. Where was this line of conversation going?
“I know I say thank you a lot, but those are just words.” She drew in a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something. “So I wanted to show you my thanks.”
He was confused for a brief moment, until her lips met his. At first he forgot to kiss her back, but soon he was giving just as much as he was receiving.
They had kissed before, but this one felt different to him. Even in their most passionate kisses, he could feel some lingering shyness from her. It wasn’t hesitation or anything, she wanted to kiss him, but something in her seemed to hold back just a little bit.
Not tonight, though. Tonight he couldn’t sense anything being held back. She was kissing him with all of her passion, with a fervor she’d never shown before. And he loved it; it excited him. He kissed her back all the more passionately.
After a few moments, a new sensation came over him. He could feel something soft and fine rubbing along his chest. He dare not break their lips apart to see what it was, but his guess was her hoof.
This was new as well. She loved to hold hooves, even in public once she got over the embarrassment she saw in it. But she never took it further than that, even the few times he’d dared to run a hoof across her back. It was most certainly a welcome experience.
She broke the kiss, pulling back. The feeling on his chest remained, and he stole a glance down to find her hoof there, tracing patterns in his coat.
“Wow. That’s one way to express your thanks,” was all he could say.
She smiled at him, a smile without any nervousness in it. The only place he could see a hint of it was in her eyes. “I’m not done yet,” she said.
His eyes widened. What could she possibly mean by that?
His question was answered when she leaned back in, only instead of kissing his lips, she lay light kisses on his cheek, trailing down to his neck.
Pleasure radiated out from her every touch. He leaned back in the cushion, his body relaxing out of his control. Her touches and kisses were light, but each one was placed without hesitation.
She continued to kiss his neck, pausing in spots to give it a quick suck. His coat was getting wet from her attention, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was her and what she was doing to him.
His own hoof reached out, sliding through her mane and down the back of her neck, stroking her. He had found out one night that she loved having her head stroked, to feel his hoof running through her mane. So he tried to reciprocate what she was doing to him.
His other hoof he used to rub her side. This earned him a small gasp as he did so. When she didn’t stop kissing him, he figured it was a gasp of either surprise or pleasure. Based on how she started kissing him quicker and harder, he pegged it as the latter.
He was in heaven, and time had no meaning right then. They’d never gone this far before, and he had no idea what brought this on, but he was going to enjoy it. Occasionally a slight moan would leave his lips. When the first one came out, he sucked in his breath and held it, fearing she would stop. But she only continued with an even more renewed pace.
When she pulled back finally, he moaned again, only this time in frustration. He’d been enjoying it so much.
She gave him another smile. This time even her eyes were clear of anything nervous or hesitant. “Do you like that?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Do you want more?”
He hesitated, his brain thinking this might be a trick question. If he answered yes then she would slap him and call him a pervert. If he answered no, she’d cry and think she failed.
When he didn’t answer due to a stalled thought process, she answered for him. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before moving down again. This time going even lower, past his neck, trailing kisses all along his chest, hinting towards his stomach.
Her hooves ran along his sides, making him shudder at her touch. She noticed and redoubled her efforts, rubbing up and down him, all the while kissing his chest.
He groaned, the sound escaping his lips despite a tremendous effort to keep it in. He felt her pause for a moment before she continued, this time moving down even lower to his stomach.
This time he was able to stifle his response, a giggle. Her feather-light kisses tickled at first, but soon he grew used to it and the ticklishness was replaced with pleasure.
Still pleasure radiated out from her every touch. It felt like waves in a pond when somepony tossed a stone in. Only this pony had a handful of stones and was tossing them one at a time.
She kept kissing him, feeling him, caressing him. He was too lost in his world of pleasure to do the same to her, though she didn’t seem to care.
It was only when he felt a hoof trail down his side to caress his cutie mark briefly before continuing on, across his hind leg and towards somewhere very private that his brain screeched to a halt.
With a firm but gentle movement, he lifted up her head. “You don’t have to do that to thank me,” he said. She’d always shirked the topic of sex when it came up. Her usual reaction was to go red in the face and stammer something out. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into something.” He’d never brought up the topic of them having sex, simply preferring to wait until she was ready.
“You’re not pressuring me. I want to do this.” As if to emphasize her point, her hoof brushed across his soft length.
Despite himself, he gasped, then let it out as a moan. This was new, and very, very bold of her. He had always imagined the first time she touched him there to be full of shyness and stammering, plus some very cute blushing on her part.
While she did have a blush, she wasn’t stammering. “Do you want it?” she stroked him again.
“Yes,” he said, the word coming out as a hiss. He didn’t even think about it, it was just an automatic response.
Her hoof trailed up and down him, her touch containing her usual nervousness at first. But upon hearing his moans, she quickly grew confident.
If he had thought he was in heaven before, now he fully expected to see Celestia manifest and lead him away, because surely he had died. Or even worse would be to see Luna, because then this would all just be a dream. Her touch, still light, felt amazing. Already he could feel himself getting hard, something she noticed too.
She kissed his cutie mark while stroking him, sucking on it. He groaned out her name, feeling himself melting into the couch.
Her other hoof joined the first, both of them working in tandem. Her lips traveled to his other cutie mark, planting more forceful kisses there.
“Oh sweet Celestia...” he said.
She giggled. “I’m not Celestia.”
He laughed. “Indeed you’re not.”
His length was about halfway to full, sticking out over him. She stopped kissing his cutie mark and pulled back, looking at it while she stroked it.
Never before had he felt so self-conscious. It felt like he was being analyzed and scrutinized. She was silent, studying him. He waited for her to say something, anything.
As her deep eyes stared at him, he felt himself getting even harder. Her gaze only served to hasten the inevitable.
Her response came not in the form of words, but a gesture. She smiled. Not a smile of laughter, but one of enjoyment. Her hooves doubled their effort, quickly bringing him to full hardness.
He looked down at her, past his swaying length. Her eyes met his and they paused for a moment. He was unsure where this was going to go, and what the result would be. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more, but he still didn’t want to pressure her or force her into doing something she didn’t want to do. If she stopped here, he’d be okay. He’d go home and relieve himself, but he would bear that burden for her.
Finally showing signs of her former hesitance, she leaned forward, her tongue poking out of her lips.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “I am.”
Slowly she approached. When her tongue met his length, he cried out her name louder than ever before. She drew her tongue up it, from bottom to top. Pausing only a moment, she worked her way back down.
If this night went any further, his definition of heaven was going to change again. Her smooth tongue running up and down him, her licks hesitant but still sure, he loved it. He loved her.
“I love you,” he said. He’d never told her that, fearing her reaction. In truth he fell for her from the moment he first saw her when she walked into the store the first time. But he didn’t want to scare or frighten her by expressing it, until now.
She stopped, giving the tip a quick kiss. “I love you too.” Her voice came out as a whisper, but it carried from her lips straight to his heart.
Without any preamble, she took the tip of his length into her mouth. He couldn’t help his response, which was to tighten his hind legs and let out a wordless cry of pleasure.
Her mouth was so wet, so warm. Her tongue licked him inside her. His brain waved a white flag and stopped functioning. The only thing he could concentrate on was her. Her eyes stared up at him for a moment before her head sank lower.
The warmth that enveloped him caused shivers to violently run down his spine. She bobbed her head, her actions overloading the pleasure centers in his brain.
He called out her name. “Oh, I love you,” he said. His hips bucked of their own accord, trying to bury himself deeper into her mouth. When she gagged, he sat bolt upright. “Oh Celestia, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just... I’ve never done anything like this before.”
He reached out, cupping her cheek with his hoof. “I love you, and this is wonderful. You’re wonderful. If you want to stop here, I’m okay with it.”
She shook her head. “No, I want to continue.” She lightly tapped his chest, causing him to lean back again. Just as before, she took him in her mouth.
This time he made sure to curb his body’s natural response, forcing his hips to stay still. He didn’t want to hurt her, or make her regret doing this.
She bobbed her head, sliding him in and out. Her eyes stayed wide open, looking up at him even as her mane fell down over her face, her actions causing it to become a little disheveled.
He was lost in the pleasure, letting it take over him. His brain was only able to focus on just that. Everything else beyond the pleasure was prevented from registering. Celestia herself could’ve burst into the room and he’d never notice or care.
The pleasure was mounting in him. She bobbed her head even faster, letting more of him into her mouth as she got used to it. Her tongue, at first mostly still, started licking him, drawing out even more pleasure.
Soon he could feel himself inching towards the point of no return. As much as he wanted to cross that threshold, he couldn’t. She came first, and despite her being willing to go this far, he didn’t think she would want him to finish inside her.
With great reluctance, he grabbed her head, stopping her and pulling her off him. She looked up. “What is it?” she asked.
“I’m close,” he said. She looked puzzled for a moment before enlightenment shone forth.
“Then go,” was all she said before pulling her head out of his grasp and returning to his length.
He had warned her, and she knew what was coming, at least he hoped she did. If she wanted to continue, he wasn’t going to stop her again.
The excitement mounted, his release drawing closer and closer. Within a minute, he was letting loose a constant stream of cries, some wordless, though most containing her name.
With a less than graceful tumble, he fell over the cliff and into pleasure. He screamed her name into the ceiling, letting her know what was coming. It was his last act before conscious thought became unattainable.
Dimly he was aware of what was happening. He could feel her as she stopped, her muzzle just at his tip. Waves of fire started deep inside him, traveling up his length and out the tip, into the warm wetness beyond.
It felt good, great, terrific. It was the single greatest moment of pleasure he had ever experienced. Nothing before this, none of those moments spent in his room servicing himself came even close. He had nothing to compare it to beyond that.
The ceiling above him blurred as his vision went fuzzy and his eyes rolled upwards. His breath hitched in his chest, refusing to be released except as a wordless moan of pleasure. He could feel his muscles tense all across his body..
As the fire died down, awareness seeped back in. His length was still inside something warm and wet. He was breathing hard, panting like he’d just run a circuit around town. Slowly the feeling of pleasure died down.
She was still on him, her eyes gazing up at him. As soon as she was aware that he was watching, she pulled off. Her muzzle remained closed, until with an audible gulp she swallowed.
As soon as she did, a look of distaste came over her face. “Bitter.”
“Oh sweet Celestia, that was amazing,” he said around his panting.
Her face lost the distasteful look and gained a smile. “I’m glad you thought so.”
She settled herself next to him again, leaning her head on his chest.
“So what brought all this up?” he asked. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
He could only see the back of her head, but even then he got the feeling that she blushed. “You’re always so nice to me,” she said. “You’ve gone out of your way to take care of me. I wanted to give you something.”
“You never have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m just happy being together.”
“I know. But I wanted to.” She turned her head to regard him. “Even when we first met you were being nice. And you never asked for anything in return.”
He looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes narrowed. “The first time I came to the store. The sales and specials that you made up.”
His muzzle fell open. “You know about that?”
She giggled. “I do. I asked around after awhile of getting special discounts. Nopony else knew about anything like that at the store.”
He groaned, falling back into the couch. “Now I feel stupid”
He felt her lips press against his, a quick kiss. “Don’t. I thought it was sweet.” She paused a moment. “I admit after I found out I was nervous, but you still never asked for anything in return. At least until you asked me out.”
He gazed down at her, meeting her wonderful eyes with his own. “You know what?” She shook her head. “The day I asked you out is the best day of my life.”
He captured her lips with his, drawing her close to him, wrapping his hooves around her. Her hooves laid themselves on his shoulders.
They broke apart, still gazing at each other. “I love you,” he said.
“And I love you,” she replied.
Together they sat on the couch, content to just embrace each other. Tonight had been a very special night for the both of them. They’d finally admitted their love for each other, taken that next step in their relationship.
He looked down at her, her eyes were closed and she was breathing easily. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he made it up in his mind to return the favor she had given him. The next time, he would turn the tables on her and give back to her exactly what she’d done to him. But until then, he would just sit here with her, enjoying the moment.
