An Unexpected Romance
By Fimbulvinter
I was practically humming with excitement as the train pulled in at Canterlot station. It was really happening; I was actually here, in Canterlot. Everywhere around me, there were pennants and banners and the atmosphere of a carnival. Flags whipped around in the breeze and ponies dashed in every direction trying to avoid crashing into each other while also hoping not to get lost.
It was a very special day today. The Equestrian games were only a few months away now, and Canterlot was having a series of qualifications to decide who would be representing them at each event. Ever since the Crystal Empire managed to snag hosting the event, there had been increasing hype about just who would be attending. Teams were being put together, flag carriers and cheer squads were being recruited; the games were shaping up to be the biggest sporting even in recent memory.
The majestic spires of Canterlot loomed high above me as I made my way from the train station towards the main plaza. Everywhere I looked, gleaming marble and glittering gold filigree shone as it they had been polished every day since they had been installed. Small children ran through every alleyway, screaming and hooting as they variously hid, dodged and squirmed out of the grasp of their parents or older siblings. I could only smile as I watched one very nimble toddler shimmy between two crates while his parents tried to squeeze their arms in after him. I could hear his mindless giggling as he thought it was all a terrific little game, and the muted curses of his parents as they tried to grab him.
Pushing between two arguing women, I reached the main plaza and its comparatively open space. Touching a hand lightly to my breast pocket, I checked that my ticket was still in place. It had taken me months to save up for this ticket. Working as a travelling magician didn’t really pay all that well. Tips from performing at a park, and the occasional kid’s party made up the bulk of my income. But, even still, I wanted to be here, if only to cheer on an old friend.
Spitfire was one of the women competing in the track and field events, and it was almost certain that she would qualify for at least one of the offered places. Spitfire and I had grown up as best friends; we were both the same age, attended the same school. We were even born around the same time in the same hospital. As we got older, she got more into athletics, while I focused on practicing for my magic act. Eventually, Spitfire went on to join up with Canterlot’s best track and field team as a junior recruit, though it wasn’t long before she became a full member, and then on to being a leader. Now she was captain, and regarded as one of the finest female athletes to have ever taken to the track.
I wonder if Spitfire ever thinks of me anymore? I’d like to think so.
Ducking down between two buildings, I spotted the sports ground where all the action would be taking place. There were lines of people stretching back for hundreds of metres, which made me happy I had the foresight to book my ticket ahead of time; the line for those who already had tickets was far shorter, and appeared to be the only one that was actually moving. Beyond the stadium, I could just make out the upper stories of the hotel where I would be spending the night. Like my ticket, I had a reservation, but was yet to check in. It was hardly the swankiest place imaginable, but far better than my normal accommodations. Often when I was on the road, it was just me, my sleeping bag, and if I was lucky, a place in a barn.
I would check in there once I had watched Spitfire run her races. Who knew; maybe I would even get to talk to Spitfire afterwards. One thing was for sure. This was going to be a great weekend for me. A quick pit-stop away from my life for a while.
Walking with some renewed vigour, I approached the line of people waiting to get in and flashed my ticket at one of the guards. He barely even glanced at it before waving me on, and just like that, I was inside the stadium. I could hear an announcer on loudspeaker, and the sounds of hundreds of people cheering and shouting. I quickly pushed ahead through a throng of people attempting to leave the wrong way and emerged out into the stands.
Almost all of the stands were full of people hollering down at the athletes running around the track. Up above me, there was what looked like a skybox filled to the brim with Canterlot’s snobbish elite, thought they, like every one else, were focused on what was happening down at ground level. Right now there were a half-dozen figures running around a short section of the track. From what the announcer was saying, it was one of the qualifiers for the one hundred metre sprint, and that the one expected to take it out was Fleetfoot. She had a commanding lead on the rest of the pack, and ended up taking out the victory with a good second on everyone else.
I wasn’t really interested in that, so I spent a little while trying to find a free seat that offered a good view of the hurdles area. Spitfire always competed in hurdles and steeplechase events, so I figured that would be where she would be. It took a while, but I finally found one that seemed perfect for me, and I scrabbled over a few people to reach it. That earned me a few withering glares, but I didn’t care; I’d gotten far worse over the years from patrons of my magic shows, or people who had discovered me trying to sneak out without paying a bill. Don’t judge me. If they wanted me to pay, then they shouldn’t have overcharged Trixie in the first place.
Reaching the seat, I settled in and took a look around at the competitors who were stretching out on the field. At this distance, I couldn’t really get a good look at their faces, but on one of the women I saw a shock of flame orange hair that could only belong to Spitfire. Like all the other’s, she was wearing a light blue and yellow figure hugging jumpsuit, which I was sure was very aerodynamic, but left little to the imagination. Not that there was much to leave to the imagination; Spitfire had done several very revealing photo shoots throughout her career. Not nude, but she may as well have been for all the carefully arranged strips of cloth covered up.
The racers all finished up with their warm up and ambled over to the starting line of the racetrack. Several attendants were busy placing and checking the waist high hurdles, while a few others were arguing about spacing. Eventually, everything was sorted out and the track was vacated of everybody but the racers.
Down at the track, I could see Spitfire shaking hands with a couple of her fellow racers. Presumably she was wishing them all good luck, or something similar. Once they had all taken their places, the announcer came back over the loudspeakers.
Attention, ladies and gentlemen. Next up we have the 100 metre women’s hurdles.
Hot tipped to take out the event is the previous champion and current captain of the Wonderbolts, Spitfire!"
At the sound of her name, the fiery haired runner looked up and waved to the cheering crowd. I joined in, hoping to catch her attention, though I knew that there was little chance that she could even make me out, let alone hear me above the din of the hundreds of people now clapping for her.
"Of course, Spitfire isn’t the only one favoured to take this race. Making her debut fresh from the Wonderbolt’s selection academy is a new runner. She’s hungry for victory, and looking to make a splash, give it up for the newcomer, Lightning Dust!”
Another runner, already kneeling down in the ready position raised a hand up above her head.
The announcer kept on reading out the list of names of the other racers, but it soon became clear that this event was really going to be a two horse race between the established champion and the new blood upstart. My money was on Spitfire, but the close-ups on the big screen showed that Lightning Dust was looking supremely confident in her own victory.
"Alright then, racers to your marks."
Everyone who wasn’t already in position quickly knelt down and got into position.
"Ready
Set
GO!!!"
All the women jumped up to their feet and were off in a flash. As expected, Spitfire managed to get an early lead on the pack, taking every hurdle with perfect form. Lightning Dust was right behind her, and while the rest of them were only a foot or so behind, it was clear that this had become a private duel between Spitfire and Lightning Dust from the first jump. They remained neck and neck right up until the last few hurdles, when Lightning Dust started to inch closer until they were taking their jumps at exactly the same time.
"It’s Spitfire, but Dust is close behind. Looks like this one could be a photo finish, folks."
The final hurdle was cleared and both women crossed the line within milliseconds of each other. I was on my feet the instant they passed the white line, and all around me, people were screaming out of their favoured racer. The rest of the pack crossed a moment or so later, each racer with an expression of disappointment on their faces. Spitfire and Lightning were panting as they waited for the formal results.
A minute or so passed as the judges checked the replay and compared notes with a finish line camera. Eventually, one of them stood up and nodded.
"That was a close one, folks! But in a photo finish, all judges are unanimous. Your winner, and still undefeated champion is… Spitfire!!!"
The disappointment on Lightning Dust’s face was clear, even from way back in the stands where I was. Spitfire walked over and the pair shook hands, smiling for the cameras. Coming in such a close second must have been an especially bitter defeat for Dust, though I doubted that this was going to be the last that we would be hearing about her. She was only just starting out her career, and she very nearly beat one of the highest ranked sprinters this side of the Crystal Empire.
I watched the results trickle in after that. Spitfire was awarded the coveted spot on the hurdles team and the announcer talked about how Lightning Dust was going to go places, but I lost interest after Spitfire got her place. Consulting my programme, I noticed that she wouldn’t be running again for a few hours when the steeplechase events started up.
Having no particular desire to watch the other events unfold, I decided to go and check out the concession stand and grab something to eat. A corndog would go down well about now, and then maybe a stroll around the stadium to see if anything else caught my eye. I had to clamber over the same people I had to get in here, and they weren’t any more understanding the second time around. One of them pointed to the pedestrian stairs just off to the side that I was supposed to be using. Like Trixie would demean herself to doing what she was ‘supposed’ to do. Their heads should have been honoured to have supported Trixie’s magnificent frame.
Still, if I had done that, then my day almost certainly would have turned out differently to how it did.
Distracted with providing one of the hecklers with a particularly witty retort, I failed to notice exactly what was in front of me, and I rammed into something soft, knocking it and myself to the ground.
I was back on my feet in a second, scrabbling to make sure that no one had seen such an embarrassing moment. “Why don’t you watch where you are going?” I said, expecting to see a child or similar on the ground.
What I saw was a woman in a plunging V line sprawled out on the ground a step below me. Quite how she had managed to keep her impressive bust from spilling out from the thin fabric was a mystery. A very fancy looking hat sat at a strange angle on her head, and for a moment I was slightly worried that she may have hurt herself until I realised that was how the hat was meant to sit.
It took the woman a few seconds to right herself and start to climb back to her feet. One of her heels had been dislodged in the fall, so she stood a little crooked, but she quickly got back up to full height, her eyes glaring daggers at me. I hadn’t seen it under her hat, but she had very soft hair tinged with a light almost purple shade that matched her violet eyes to a tee. That wasn’t what caught my attention though. What caught my attention was something far more banal, but no less impressive.
I had to look up slightly to meet her eyes. That in itself was hardly impressive; I was a respectable 5”11, so she would have to be about six foot in height. Again, nothing that impressive, until I realized that she was standing on the step below me. A quick glance down showed that she had removed her other heel and was standing barefooted on the stone step. Even allowing for this, she was still taller than I was in shoes.
I involuntarily took a step back, and the woman matched me, stepping up onto my level. As she did so, I suddenly found my eyes level with the bottom of her nose, and my estimate went from six foot to Amarezonian. I craned my neck up again to see her still glaring at me, hands on her hips and fuming.
“Why don’t *I* look where I’m going? How about you? You weren’t even looking forwards,” she said, indignant.
Now that I could see her face, I was sure I had seen her somewhere before. It couldn’t have been in person, as I would have remembered someone as tall as she was anywhere, so she must have had her picture in the paper or have been mentioned somewhere before.
Faced with this behemoth, I couldn’t think of anything witty to throw back at her that wouldn’t result in her hurting me, so I said something that was almost unknown to my vocabulary; I apologized.
“Trixie is…sorry for bumping into you,” I mumbled, nearly stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
Her expression softened a little, though she still looked angry with me. “Very well,” she said before taking a look at her dress and hat. “There doesn’t seem to be any rips or tears. Just try to be more caref-“ she froze as she got a good look at her hands. I followed her eyes and saw that two of the nails on her right hand were clearly chipped and cracked.
“Trixie will pay for that,” I blurted out, almost unable to believe the words coming out of my mouth.
The woman suddenly gave a single short chuckle. “Ha, you don’t need to be so afraid, miss…Trixie, was it? I’m not going to gobble you up just because you knocked me over. For one, I’m a vegetarian, and two, you would ruin my figure, and I’ve spent far too much time at the gym to let that happen.”
My eyes instinctively roamed over her body at the mention of her figure. Her dress was figure hugging and made up of red satin, and it reflected the light at she moved around in it. While it did cover up her modesty, the V in the centre showed off a lot of skin all the way down to her navel, along with enough of her cup to indicate she wasn’t wearing a bra; the dress itself was taking on the task of supporting her ample breasts. She clearly had a very lithe figure, and must have worked hard to keep it that way.
I looked up to see her smiling down at me. “If you really do want to pay for a trip to the salon, then of course, I accept your apology.” She stepped back down and slipped on her heels again before grabbing my arm and pulling me higher into the stands. Despite her thin physique, she was stronger than she looked, and I just followed along, meekly.
“H-Hey, where are you taking me?” I protested, dropping the whole third person persona for a second while I tried to free my arm.
She smiled back at me, “Just somewhere that you won’t feel tempted to skip out before paying your bill.”
Visions of dark, windowless cells flashed before my mind, but the reality turned out to be even more horrifying. It took only a few moments for the woman’s destination to become apparent. She was dragging me towards the skybox filled with all of the great and good of Canterlot. Though, when I say great and good, what I really meant was ‘the rich.’ Exactly the kind of place that I had spent much of my life avoiding.
Didn’t look like I had much of a choice this time, though.
We reached the landing that housed the entrance to the skybox. The lady let go of my arm as we approached a very burley looking security guard standing outside the box. His eyes roved over the pair of us, and I was sure that they lingered for just a moment too long on my companions ‘assets.’ Still, she didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care about people ogling her.
She didn’t hesitate as she strode up to the security guard manning the entrance to the skybox. He gave her one look and dropped the rope cord blocking the doorway, though he instantly replaced it and planted himself directly in my path.
“Invitation only,” he said, making sure that he was taking up every inch of possible space.
“Oh, stop putting it on,” the woman called from right behind him. Despite his impressive size, I could still see the top of her head above his. “She’s with me, so consider her invited.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the guard said, and he opened up the way for me, though his expression clearly said ‘don’t cause trouble.’
I followed the woman in red into the skybox, and the contrast to how things had been outside couldn’t have been more marked. Inside the box, everything was plush or lined with some kind of material. Unlike the folding plastic seats I had been sitting on before, the chairs were carved wood and soft cushions. A table was set off to the side with an impressive spread of appetizers and flutes of what I assumed would be fine brand champagne. Several busboys in livery were handing drinks around or taking orders. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I hadn’t expected this much opulence for such a minor affair. This wasn’t even the actual games. Inwardly, I shuddered at the idea of how much all of this would have cost. I could probably have lived comfortably for a year on what it would have taken to buy the drinks alone.
Everyone who had been chatting or looking down at the athletes through binoculars stopped the moment I entered into the room. A deathly silence dropped as they looked at me in my best skirt. It was the nicest one I owned, but it was old and starting to fade, and it looked especially tacky compared to the top of the line formalwear that everyone was sporting. Diamonds or other gems were on every finger, while hats and veils covered faces. Even all the men were wearing top hats.
I had never felt more out of place in my life. If there was a corner that I could have crawled into, I would have taken it in a second.
The silence lingered on for a few more seconds until one of the men wearing a tuxedo called the woman over. “Fleur, my dear. What happened to you? You’re looking a little flustered. And who’s that?” he asked, pointing in my direction.
Upon hearing the name, everything fell into place. I knew who my new companion was now. The eyes, the hair and the exceptional tallness all meant that she could only be one person. Turning back to her, I looked at her face again, feeling a sense of terror and elation at the same time. She was Fleur-De-Lis, currently one of the highest ranked fashion models on the circuit, and more importantly, she was the wife of Lord Fancy Pants, the wealthiest businessman in all of Canterlot. I had read an interview featuring her a few months back in which she commented on her modelling career and some of her more prominent charity work.
Fleur have him a slight shake of her head. “Oh, it’s nothing, Hoity. And this is Trixie,” she said, pulling me over and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Now that she was back in heels, the height difference between us was even more pronounced. Fleur could have rested her chin on my head if she was interested. “We just sort of ran into each other and got to chatting, so I thought I would bring her back here with me. Is that ok?”
The man, Hoity as Fleur had introduced him gave me a sneer that said he would rather be talking to a piece of dirt on the floor, but he nodded all the same. “I suppose so.” He turned to face me. “Well, miss…Trixie, I suppose I should offer you a drink."
Several hours later, Fleur and I walked out of the skybox. The smells of the stadium were like a breath of fresh air for me after the perfumed sterile atmosphere of that box. I had decided that I had had more than enough after only a few minutes of listening to people paying me false compliments about my dress, or forcing laughs at anecdotes that weren’t funny. They may have been some of the richest and most powerful people in all of Canterlot, but I would stake my, admittedly tattered, reputation that not one of them had ever lived a day in their lives.
We had both stayed to watch Spitfire run in her steeplechase event, but a nasty trip on the second lap had knocked her out of contention for winning it. She had put in a good effort, but had ended up coming in fifth out of a field of eight. It had been a real letdown for me, but at least she had won one of her events. Fleur gave me a quiet smile when she saw me looking a little downcast.
“You don’t really have to come with me to the salon if you don’t want to, Trixie. I forgive you for knocking into me. You probably actually livened the place up a little. Go on, go home,” Fleur said, giving me a gentle nudge.
While I understood what she was trying to do – allowing me to leave while saving face – I was going to have none of it. Trixie had given her word, and she never went back on her word, except all those times that she had, but not this time.
“Trixie said she was going to pay, so she is going to pay,” I said, effectively ending the matter.
Fleur seemed to sense that I wasn’t going to be moved on this one, so she simply nodded and motioned for me to follow her. “Come on, then. I know a good little place not too far from here. We can get our nails and hair done; even get a massage if you are interested. And the best part is that this place doesn’t allow men inside, so you don’t need to worry about anybody perving on you in the showers or baths.
I had to admit that it did sound good, though I would have to carefully check how much it was going to cost. Fleur would get whatever she wanted, as my ego wouldn’t allow her one moment of superiority over me.
The salon turned out to closer than I had expected, only a block or two away. It was actually a combination of a nail and hair salon mixed in with a dedicated back area for spa and sauna treatments. The front area with the nail salon was visible through the windows, but everything else was hidden behind doors. Fleur opened the door and nodded to the girl working behind the reception desk. The girl smiled when she recognized Fleur.
“Welcome back, miss De-Lis. How can we help you today. Your usual package, or something different?”
“Just my nails done toda-“ Fleur started, before I cut in over the top of her.
“She will have her usual package and the same for me,” I said, effectively ending the discussion. Fleur gave me a look that clearly said I didn’t have to do this, but this was now a matter of pride for me. I wasn’t about to let this high society toff look down on me. Even if it meant I had to sleep in a gutter tonight, I was going to have perfect hair to go with it.
“Excellent. We have two slots open right now. The complete package will come to 300 bits, inclusive for the both of you. We will start you off with a steam bath, to relax your tension, followed by a massage and finishing off with a pedicure and hair styling.”
I almost gagged at the price. I could afford it, but I wouldn’t have anything left over for the hotel I had booked. Still I opened up my pouch and forked over the requested bits. A half-dozen 50 bit pieces were exchanged, and I made sure to close the pouch before anyone could get a good look inside.
Fleur gave me a meaningful look, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she led the way through to the changing room. The changing room was done up in the same fancy design as the reception area of the salon, but it had a selection of towels and robes off to one side, along with several sets of lockers. Fleur opened one of the lockers and put her few accessories in it, motioning for me to do the same. I only had my money pouch and a few little things.
Before she locked the cupboard, Fleur walked over to the robes and grabbed a pair. Turning back to be, she held her hair off to one side. “Trixie, do you mind unzipping me?”
I gripped the zipper and pulled, letting Fleur’s slinky dress fall to a puddle around her. Though I had suspected it before, the dress confirmed that Fleur hadn’t been wearing a bra to the track. A pair of support inserts had been sewn directly into the chest area of the dress. It appeared that Fleur also hadn’t been wearing any underwear to go along with it, having decided to go regimental. She stood there, buck naked in front of me, clearly not fussed about being nude with a total stranger.
I could only stare at Fleur. She had a fantastic figure, hourglass shaped with a slim waist, but generous hips and bust, and a cleanly shaven crotch. Clearly, she had spent a great deal of time and effort to maintain such a body.
Fleur saw me looking, and she gave a quick smile. “36-22-34,” she said as she picked up her robe and slung it over her shoulder, rather than putting it on.
“Huh?” I wasn’t quite she what she meant.
“You were thinking about what my measurements were, weren’t you? Don’t feel embarrassed about looking. I have people checking me out all the time, and some of the clothes I model aren’t exactly, how do I say, preserving of modesty? The point is that I’ve gotten used to people looking at my figure, and let’s face it. I’ve got a good body, so I might as well show it off when I can. Nothing wrong with looking, just no touching unless I say so.”
Fleur picked up her dress and stowed it in the locker. “Besides,” she continued, “like I said on the way here, there are no men allowed inside this salon, so it’s not like there will be anybody gawking at me.”
I thought about it for a few moments before shrugging and stripping off my dress and undergarments. I had nothing to hide, though I was a little self conscious about comparing my body to Fleur’s. I didn’t think I was bad looking, but Fleur’s figure was a whole other class.
Fleur gave me an approving nod as I took the robe she held out. “Not bad, Trixie. With a little makeup and styling, you could cut a good figure. Now come on, the mineral baths here are fantastic for relaxing.
A few minutes later, we were both soaking in a communal bath the size of a small pool. It had been a little bit uncomfortable at first taking off my robe in front of the half dozen other patrons, but that soon passed when some other girls stripped off and got in. Clearly, nudity was not uncommon in this business. All the workers were dressed modestly in short cotton shifts, but they didn’t seem fazed in any way if a woman wearing nothing passed by and asked them something.
Fleur had picked a good spot over near one of the corners of the pool. There were a few other women in the water, but we were alone in our little spot. Fleur had relaxed into the water the moment she had gotten in, letting her body sink down up to her neck. A few strands of her hair were floating lazily in the water around her body, and she had the slow and steady breathing of someone who was content with their lot.
Having nothing else to do, I decided to stop worrying and follow Fleur’s lead, letting my body sink into the cool liquid. Fleur had been right, it did feel great, though I wasn’t exactly sure about was different about this than just taking a bath or going swimming. The bath we were in could easily be used as a makeshift swimming pool if it needed to be.
I was just getting a good calm going when Fleur’s arm touched me on my shoulder, bringing me back to my senses. I looked over to see Fleur sitting just a little bit out of the water. Her nipples were just kissing the surface of the water, the pink nubs sending ripples skimming around. It took me a moment to stop staring at them and realise that Fleur wanted to ask me something.
“What do you do, Trixie? You don’t seem like the type of person who would live here in Canterlot.”
“Trixie was born in Canterlot, but she hadn’t lived here for many years. She travels Equestria, dazzling audiences with her prodigious talents in magic and theatre,” I said, stretching my arms up behind my head and scratching the back of my neck for a moment. “Oh, but it appears that you have something caught behind your ear.”
Before Fleur could say anything, I leaned forwards and seeming pulled a small copper coin out from the lock of hair behind Fleur’s ear. To her it would have appeared that the coin had indeed just been pulled from her ear, though in truth, I had just palmed the coin from its resting place under my hair while distracting her attention with the more obvious movement of scratching my neck. From there it had been simple to conceal it in my palm before switching it to my fingers behind her ear. It was child’s play grade magic, but it never failed to please.
Fleur looked at the coin in my hand before bursting out laughing and clapping. Several of the other women in the bath, and a couple of staff all looked over to us, some with annoyance, but most with curiosity. Fleur chuckled away for a few more seconds before pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just so…unexpected.” She paused to gather her breath again, settling back down into the water. “A magician, huh? What made you decide to get into that?”
“Mostly because of my grandfather,” I said, “Presto was one of the best stage magicians to have ever lived, and I wanted to be just like him. I’ve even got a hat and cape packed away somewhere.”
Fleur looked at me again. “Presto. Not Presto Lulamoon?”
I nodded once. This kind of reaction was common, and one day I hoped that people would talk about me in the same way. Though the way my career was going, that didn't seem likely.
Fleur was suddenly beaming at me. “I remember going to see one of his stage shows when I was just a little girl. I don’t know how he did it, but he just seemed to be able to pull things out of thin air. Cards, books, balls, fruit, even a trio of doves. You name it; he could make it appear with just a swish of his cape.”
We chatted for a while longer, mostly me telling her stories of my adventures around Equestria, though Fleur did tell me about her own life as well. In the end, we must have lost track of the time, as we were interrupted by an attendant telling us that the salon was soon going to be ready for us and would we like to dry off?
Fleur got out of the pool first, and wether she meant to or not, she gave me a fleeting glimpse of between her legs as she towelled off and put on her robe again. I followed suit, not really fussed about anybody seeing me naked anymore; everyone in here had already seen it.
Once we were dry and covered, the attendant took us back to the front room of the salon and bid us take a seat in the two free chairs. Several staff members were standing by with nail files or various bottles and jars of product. The entire room stank of flowers; perfumes cloying to the nose, but Fleur didn't seem to mind the smell. It was enough to make me gag though.
Fleur took one chair and motioned for me to take the other. "The people here are excellent. Just sit back and relax while they take care of you. In an hour or so, you will feel like a whole new woman."
I trusted her, so we both sat back in the chair and let the attendants do their work. One happily started filling away at the rough edges of my fingertips, while another brought over a basin of water to soak and wash my hair in. I had always been a little proud of my silvery hair, a trait of my family. When it was properly treated, it gleamed like its namesake metal, but it wasn't often that I could afford to have it treated and maintained beyond a quick dunk in a river.
The manicure and hair treatment took us about another hour to complete. Fleur had the cracks in her nails repaired, and I even got mine painted a shocking shade of purple to match my eyes. All in all, it was a wonderful little distraction from the grind of my daily life, and I was almost willing to forgive it the fact that I wouldn't be able to spend a night in the hotel like I had planned.
When we were done, Fleur looked stunning. Her hair was sleek, and it shined almost with its own light. I supposed that my hair looked something similar from the way that she was clearly checking it out. I smiled a little at the attention. It had been a long time since I had looked this good.
Fleur and I went back into the changing room to grab out clothes and get changed. Once again, Fleur had no issue with stripping down to her birthday suit right in front of me, and I didn't really hesitate either. Fleur had already seen everything I had on offer, so there wasn't much point to trying to hide it anymore.
As I was folding my robe up, I caught sight of myself in one of the full length mirrors. Gleaming silver cascaded down my back, with one forelock hanging down over my eyes. Vibrant purple eyes stared back at me from behind the glass, looking proudly out of a body that I was proud to call mine. Two perky and ample, though not overly large tits filled out my chest, with soft pink areolas. My legs and waist were toned. I looked better than I thought I did, and for a second I wondered if these mirrors had some special design that made the viewer look better than in real life.
That thought vanished as Fleur, sill as nude as I was, came over and stood next to me, putting her arms around my shoulders and pulling me in tight with her. Without her heels on, she wasn't as overpoweringly tall, but she still dwarfed me. Her body was flawless; pale, milky skin that looked smooth as butter, a thin hourglass waist, and, of course, her massive breasts pressing into the side of mine. In the reflection, I could see that her nipples were just starting to swell, the nubs pressing forward ever so slightly.
All in all, Fleur looked fantastic. She had a beautiful face and body, and she clearly knew it. There was no question that she looked as good in real life as she did in that mirror.
Fleur idly leaned over and rested her head on my hair. "You look good, Trixie. I knew bringing you here would be a treat, even if you were the one to pay for it." She paused for a moment and took a quick inhale, sniffing my silvery locks. "Mmm, I love lavender."
It was an odd experience, having someone so openly smell my hair right next to me, but with Fleur, I wasn't sure I wanted it to stop. It felt...nice, having someone find me so attractive, in a way.
Another thing I noticed in that mirror was that Fleur kept her crotch completely shaven smooth. My own area was covered in hair, not an unkempt jungle like some girls did, but it wasn't smooth and hairless like Fleur's. Maybe it was time to try a new style.
The sound of a door opening broke us apart, each of us quickly jumping for the closest piece of clothing we could find. I turned around to find another pair of customers walking in from the pool, still dripping water under their towels. I looked back up at Fleur, who was already sliding a leg into the top of her dress; the moment was gone, and I couldn't help but wish that it had gone on a little longer. It had felt so nice, being so close to another person who actually seemed to like me.
Silently, we both got dressed again, and headed back out into the streets of Canterlot. In the couple of hours we had been in the salon, the sun had nearly finished setting, and heavy clouds now filled the sky in all directions. A light breeze carried the scent of rain along with it, and there was the occasional distant rumble of thunder. It was clear that it was going to rain soon.
Fleur stepped out into the street and quickly stretched her arms up above her head, arching her back out. I could hear a few pops and clicks as she loosened off. “So, where are you staying tonight, Trixie? Is it very far away?” she asked, looking worriedly up at the sky. Night was falling rapidly now, and the clouds had taken on a black, nearly purple look, like one giant bruise.
“Trixie will find somewhere to accommodate her. Don't you worry about it.”
Fleur didn’t look impressed. “You don’t have anywhere, do you? The money you spent on me in there was meant to be for your hotel tonight, wasn’t it?"
I gave a tiny nod of my head. “Trixie will get by. She always does.”
“Nonsense. I’m not going to sit back and let a friend spent a night out here in the rain,” Fleur said.
It didn’t escape my attention that she called me a friend. Did she really think that of me so quickly, and after the way we had met?
“Come on,” she continued, “You can spend tonight at my apartment. Fancy won’t mind, and there is plenty of room for you.” She paused to look back up at the sky again. “I just hope the rain holds off until we get there.”
As if to punctuate her words, a mighty thunderclap echoed overhead and the heavens opened and rain began to pour down on our heads, quickly soaking us through our clothes.
We both turned to look at each other. I could see Fleur’s nipples clearly through her dress as the fabric turned translucent in the rain.
“Remind me, why did I go without a bra today?” Fleur asked, deadpan.
Twenty minutes later, the pair of us slopped our way into the foyer of Fleur’s apartment building. Water dripped from every inch of our clothes and left puddles with every step. Fleur fished a set of keys out of her handbag, while I tried to wring out my hair. We had been lucky that we hadn’t run into anybody on the way. Fleur’s clothing had turned transparent after a few minutes in the rain, and I was sure that mine hadn’t fared all that much better, though I did have the advantage of wearing appropriate underwear. Even now, her breasts were perfectly framed by the red fabric; her nips forming a pair of thrusting bumps on display for anyone to see.
As Fleur flicked the keys around in her hands, trying to get the right one to stand up on its own, I couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of her dress was hugging the rest of her body, accentuating her shapely form, especially her ass. Part of me wanted to just squeeze it, but I doubted that Fleur would take kindly to that, even with what had happened at the salon. With the way the weather had deteriorated on the way here, I really didn’t want to have to go back outside again.
Fleur found the key and hit the button to call down the elevator. As it started to come down from whatever floor it had last ended up on, we both turned to look at each other. Fleur looked like she had just gone swimming, rather than having just spent a few hours getting her hair done and I was sure that I looked like the same. When our eyes met, we both burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened onto a small, but very plush elevator car. We both got in and Fleur lifted her key and inserted it into a slot right above the buttons for the other levels before pressing the button marked ‘PH.’ She gave me a sheepish smile when she saw me staring. “I may have failed to mention that my apartment is actually the penthouse. Fancy Pants and I live here when we aren’t away on business or doing a photo shoot. When I said there was plenty of room, I really meant there are six guest bedrooms, all furnished for you to pick from.”
The elevator moved swiftly, and in the air conditioned coolness of the metal box, I realised just how cold I was in my sodden clothes. Fleur noticed and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me up against her bosom. Fleur was slightly warmer than I was, but she was also shivering slightly.
“But first, I think we should get you showered and into some dry clothes. After that, some food. Then we can talk about where you want to sleep.”
The elevator swiftly carried us up to the penthouse area, and Fleur unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal her home. Even with what I had been expecting, my jaw dropped a couple of inches at the sight. Everywhere there was polished wood, or soft carpeting. One wall of the apartment was taken up by an enormous bookshelf, every shelf filled to the brim with what I suspected were all first editions.
A pair of ornate glass doors led out onto a patio area and roof garden, though this was currently in the process of being flooded out by the rain. Fleur walked in and motioned for me to follow her in. “Come on, Trixie. You’ll catch your death of cold out there. A nice hot shower, that’s what you need.”
We walked into Fleur’s apartment. From in here, the rain was a soft pitter patter noise on the glass and the roof; it sounded kinda nice when you were not out in it getting soaked down to the bone. Fleur showed me through the apartment, stepping carefully to try and avoid getting water on the carpet. We left soggy footsteps anyway though, and water dripped onto the carpets anyway, but I tried to step where she had. Fleur led me down a softly lit hall and slid open one of the doors leading off of it.
“Main bathroom is through here. There are towels under the sink. Feel free to use anything you want. I’ll try and find you something in your size,” Fleur said, flicking on a light.
The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the apartment. Marble countertops, polished tiles, and golden fixtures were the order of the day. A shower that could have easily fitted four people in it with room to spare took up one wall, while a large bath took pride of place in the centre. An absolutely staggering array of shampoos, crèmes, oils, conditioners, facial masks, rejuvenators, and so on lined the shelves. Off to one side, the toilet sat by itself, seat down and clearly kept clean by someone; Fleur herself or a maid probably.
Fleur left me gawking in her bathroom, and it took me another few seconds to remember than I was meant to be getting clean. My dress clung to my skin and it was harder than it seemed to get it off, but eventually I managed to slide it and my underwear off before bundling them up and throwing them over to the side of the room next to a clothes hamper. I’d wring them out later, but now the shower was calling me.
The shower itself was massive. A bench ran the entire length, and it contained multiple faucets and showerheads and could have easily accommodated three or four people at once; just what did Fleur and her husband get up to here that required such a large shower?
Just finding the right taps to turn on was a challenge, but one that the Chilled and Shivering Trixie was more than up to, and after a few seconds scalding water came billowing out of two of the heads, nearly searing me right in my skin. A healthy dose of cold brought the temperature back down to a manageable level and for a few minutes I just stood there, letting the water cascade down my back and over my breasts while I ran my hands through my hair.
It was odd, how many different types of water I had been in today. There had been the pool at the salon, getting soaked in the rain, and now here in the shower. How could one liquid have so many different textures? Where the rain had been cold and coarse, this water was silky; smooth and soft.
Eventually, the water warmed me up and I reached for the first bottle of product that I could find. It was some kind of body scrub with a fruity smell, so I lathered it on and started scrubbing with one of the sponges hanging off of a hook. The feel of the gel, along with the coarseness of the sponge was heavenly, and taking a moment to make sure that I was alone, I brought it down a little lower and spread my legs a little.
Feeling the sponge against my slit was incredible; the mesh covering of the sponge was rubbing right up against my clit, leaving me with the most exhilarating feeling. Quickly, I began grinding it hard up against myself, while my other hand snaked its way over my breasts, tweaking my nipples to hardness or just stroking between them.
All the while I was thinking of Fleur. All the little peeps or flashes that she had shown me today - getting out of the pool, or how she had hugged me in tight in the change room. My body was more than ready, and it didn't take long before I felt my pleasure build.
"Fleur," I whispered quietly to myself, shoving the loofah right up against my vagina.
My body spasmed, sending bolts of pleasure right throughout, and I knew that I was coating the loofah in my own juice.
It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Panting, I sat down on the bench and let the stream of water wash me clean again. After a few more minutes, I realised I had no idea how long I had been in the shower, and the water was starting to get cold. Quickly I washed out the loofah, rinsing it thoroughly of any residue I might have left on it. When I was done, I gave it a quick sniff, finding only the scent of the soap I had used.
As I turned off the water and got out of the shower, I noticed that my dress and underwear were gone. In their place was a clean, and thankfully dry white dress that looked like it had a Neighpon inspired design. Short slits along the bottom ensured that I would be able to walk freely while wearing it, which was good as it was at least two sizes too big for me. Clearly, it was one of Fleur’s own dresses, loaned to me for the night.
Picking it up, I spotted a small trio of embroidered arrowheads just above the hem line on one side. It was the mark of the De-Lis clothing line, the line that Fleur modelled for. It didn’t surprise me that she would have some of her own clothing lines around, but it did make me treat the clothing with a little more care. From what I had read in a magazine once, even the cheapest article in the De-Lis line of clothes cost a fortune. What I was holding likely cost more than I made in six months. Fleur seemed fairly relaxed, but even still, it wouldn't do to insult or antagonize her right now; I really didn't want to go back out into that storm.
In a moment of clarity, I realised that Fleur must have come in here at some point while I was in the shower. Had she seem me getting myself off with her sponge, or worse, had she heard me speak her name when I came?
'Would that really be such a bad thing? Fleur is an attractive woman. Admit it, Trixie; you like her' a little voice in my head spoke up.
I couldn't really disagree with the voice, not after what I had just done. Fleur was pretty, and what was more, she seemed to like me. But she was married, and quite happily so, if the papers could be believed, and I had never heard any rumours that she had ever shown any interest in other women. Now, I was most certainly not a lesbian, but I had shared a bed with a couple of women in my time, and with them there was a certain thrill that you just couldn't get with a man.
I shook my head to banish that thought. Fleur had taken me into her home simply because she didn't want me to be out in the rain, not because she had indicated any desire to take me to bed. Even all her actions at the sauna could just have been that she just didn't have any issue with being naked in front of other women.
I picked up the dress again and slipped it on, shivering lightly from the feeling of the material against my nipples; they were still sensitive from before, and Fleur hadn't provided me with a bra. The dress was a bit big for me, and it would be likely that any spare bra's Fleur had would be equally as large; she was a good cup or two larger than I was, something that seemed perfectly proportionate with her tall frame. Mine was saturated, though I supposed I could have tried to dry it off a little.
Once I was ready, I stepped back out into the hallway and headed back towards the main room. Fleur was already there, dressed up in a new dress very similar to mine. She had clearly had a shower of her own and at some point she had set a fire going in the fireplace, and the cheery sound of crackling wood competed with the noise of the rain.
When she saw me come in, Fleur walked over and handed me a glass of wine. "Did you have a nice shower? Looks like you enjoyed it," she said. "Sorry I didn't have anything in your size, but well..." Fleur held one hand up and put it level with my head, leaving it just under the bridge of her nose. She wasn't in heels anymore, so she wasn't as towering as she had been, but even still, the height difference was considerable.
"It's alright. Trixie has made do with less," I said, taking the wine.
"Indeed," Fleur said dryly, one eyebrow rising up at my comment. "Well, would you like the tour? I'll show you the guest rooms and you can pick the one you like."
For the next few minutes, Fleur showed me around her apartment. It was larger than I would have expected, clearly taking up the entire top level of the building. It must have cost a fortune, but money appeared to be no issue for Fleur and her husband. Like I had suspected, the book shelves were all original first editions, and every corner was cluttered with rare plants or valuable carvings or statues. One room was clearly set up as a home gym, with exercise equipment distributed around, along with sweat bands and a water cooler.
The guest rooms were all set up as lavishly as the rest of the apartment. Queen sized beds and hardwood desks, with ornate carpets. It would make little difference which one I chose, they were all equally nice.
Along the way, I took the opportunity to take a look at some of the pictures set up on the walls. There were plenty of Fleur, some of her accepting awards or in various poses with fancy clothes on. There were also abstracts and landscapes that would have been worth thousands on the open market.
Eventually, Fleur pushed open the door to the master bedroom and ushered me inside. "This is my room," Fleur said, sweeping it with her hand.
While the other rooms had been nicely appointed, they paled in comparison to this. An elegant four poster king sized bed took up pride of place, with thin bolts of cloth hanging down from the railing. Hanging off of one wall was a picture of Fleur and Fancy Pants's wedding; Fleur looking stunning in her gown, while Fancy Pants cut a dashing figure in an immaculate tuxedo. They both looked so happy in that shot.
On the bed, right up against one of the pillows, I noticed a very strange looking plush toy. It was shaped sort of like a horse, but it had a horn, as well as a monocle, moustashe, and a tweed vest complete with brass buttons. It took me a moment to place it, but eventually I realized that it was a replica of Fancy Pants, or at least what he would look like if he was a stuffed unicorn toy.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing out the toy to Fleur. She didn’t seem the type to sleep with a stuffed bear, and there weren’t any others that I could see.
“Oh, that’s Fluffy Pants,” Fleur said, picking the horse up and giving it a tight squeeze, and rubbing its fuzzy fur against her cheek. “Fancy gave him to me when we were still dating, so that I would never have to be alone again, even when he was called away on business. Fluffy is a really great listener, and he’s cute as a button. Isn’t he just adorable?” She held the doll out to me, and I took it, holding it a little gingerly.
The doll was softer than I had expected, and clearly made from a very high quality material. It really felt like it was covered with real fur. “He is pretty cute,” I said, though his expression and the monocle did kinda creep me out a little.
"Fancy had him custom made for me after our second date. He's sweet like that," Fleur said, her voice taking on a slightly odd quality as she mentioned Fancy. I wasn't sure what to make of it, and it only lasted for a moment before it was gone.
Fleur took the doll back and put it back down on the bed before leading us both out of the master bedroom. I got the feeling that she had just let slip something that she hadn't meant to, but I couldn't really put it into words.
During the rest of the tour, it just wouldn't go away and kept nagging at the back of my mind. There was something missing from the house, but I just couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. Every few seconds, my mind kept flashing back to the toilet I had seen in the bathroom, and to the picture of Fancy and Fleur at the wedding. Something about them just seemed off.
Eventually, Fleur brought us back to the main room. By now, the fire had heated the place up, and Fleur motioned for me to take a seat on the couch. She walked over to the kitchen and refilled our wine glasses while I sat down on the couch.
"So, how do you like the place?" Fleur called from the kitchen as I tried to avoid being swallowed by the cushions.
What was I meant to say? That was one of the most opulent places I had ever seen? That the wealth on display in even one room could feed me for a year?
"It's...very nice," I eventually managed to say as Fleur came over with the wine and the remainder of the bottle on a tray.
"How modest of you, Trixie," Fleur remarked. We clinked glasses and each took a fair sip. It wasn't often that I had the bits to afford wine, and I found the vintage to be a little rich. Fleur didn't seem to notice, and as soon as our glasses were empty, she refilled them, and opened another bottle from the wine rack after that.
We remained there for a long time, alternating between talking about nothing or listening to the sound of the rain on the glass outside. Every few minutes there would be a flash of lightning followed a few seconds later by a loud rumble. In that time, the feeling of something missing from the house didn't go away; it just kept simmering away in the back of my mind. Most likely I would never work out exactly what it was right now; in a few days time it would pop into my head at precisely the moment when I couldn't do anything about it and annoy me immensely.
Fleur told me about herself; and how she had moved to Canterlot from Prance at a young age when her mother, a junior ambassador had been posted here. She had always wanted to be a model, but it wasn't until her early twenties that she had really had her chance. It all came about when she met a charming young man at a masked ball. She hadn't known who he was, but they had spoken at length about their lives. He was in a partnership with several fashion designers to create the next big thing, and that he was specifically looking for women who were outside the norm to model for him. When the ball ended, he had handed her a card with an offer to 'call on him, should she ever wish to pursue her dream further.
That man had been Fancy Pants, and from the moment that they met again, he had been so struck by her that he had instantly hired her, and even named his fashion line after her. What had followed had been a whirlwind romance of high profile dates, and eventually, marriage.
"That was years ago now. Fancy is a good man, but we are going through a little bit of a rough patch at the moment," Fleur said, her voice a little wistful as she remembered the past. A quick blink brought her back to the moment, and she shook her head before picking up her fourth glass of wine of the evening. "Oh, but I don't mean to bore you with the details. Tell me, Trixie. What do you do when you are not performing? How do you relax? What do you like to do?"
By this point, we were both more than a little drunk, and I suppose that may have been the reason I blurted out my next line.
"Trixie likes a good fuck!" I said, thrusting my hips forward on the couch in a crude imitation of the male motion.
Fleur laughed, slopping a little of her white wine on her dress. Instantly, the material turned translucent, and I could see Fleur's breasts come into view under the material. She had neglected to put on a bra. She put her glass down and tried to mop up some of the spill, but that only made her breasts stand out even more, her nipples swelling to hardness from the cold and physical stimulation.
I couldn't take my eyes off them. The fantasy I had played out in the shower returned, a little fuzzy around the edges, but I could remember that Fleur's 'assets' had played a big part. "Are those real or fake?" I asked, nodding at Fleur's chest.
Fleur stopped trying to get the wine up and looked at me, first shock and then a coy smile passing over her face. "What, you like them do you?" She squeezed her arms together a little, causing her breasts to bulge out from her chest a little more. "100% real. Do you think they would jiggle like this if they were fake?" Fleur wiggled her body around, and her breasts jiggled from side to side, drawing my eyes like a metronome.
"Do you mind...Can Trixie touch them?" I wasn't really expecting Fleur to let me, but that this point, we seemed to be rapidly trying to one up the other.
In response to my question, Fleur nodded once. "Go ahead. What's the point of having a nice rack, and I know I have a nice rack if you don't show it off once in a while?"
Riding the wine buzz, I reached forward and cupped each of Fleur's breasts in one had, giving them a firm squeeze. They were soft and squishy, yielding to my hands like a jelly. Fleur's nipples, already erect from her earlier attempt to clean herself swelled even more, pressing into my palms, and I could hear Fleur moan softly with each squeeze; a soft, deep moan with her eyes closed.
She let me touch her boobs for a while, occasionally skimming the sides of mine with her hands, but for the most part just letting me have my way with her. Eventually, she opened her eyes and looked at me.
"You know, my husband might not take too kindly to finding another woman fondling his wife's bosom. He likes to do that himself, and he could walk in here at any moment," Fleur said, though she didn't do anything to actually stop me from squeezing her body.
It was at that second that I realised exactly what it was that had been bugging me about the house. The image of the toilet came back to me, and this time I could see exactly what it was that was wrong with it. It was such a little thing, but something that men and women had been fighting over ever since the development of indoor plumbing. And in that moment, I knew that there was no chance of Fancy Pants walking in on us unannounced.
“Somehow I don’t think that is going to be a problem,” I remarked. “Fancy isn’t living here at the moment, is he?” I let go of Fleur, and let her straighten up a little on the couch.
Fleur stopped for a second, her face all but confirming my suspicions. “What makes you say that?” she asked.
I pointed towards her hallway. “Your bathroom told me.” If there was one thing I prided myself on, it was my attention to detail. Working as a magician forces you to pay attention to the little details so you can pick out the chumps from the crowd and Fleur’s bathroom was filled with little giveaways about the state of her marriage.
Fleur looked a little bit puzzled, so I decided to fill her in. “Your bathroom is perfectly setup for one, not two. On your sink there is only one toothbrush. One towel was up on the rack with a thin layer of undisturbed dust on the other racks. They clearly haven’t been used for some time. The most telling thing though was the state of your toilet.”
“My toilet?” Fleur asked. She clearly didn’t see where I was going with that.
“Yes, your toilet,” I repeated. “You see the seat?”
“Yes,” Fleur said slowly.
“It’s down,” I said, triumphant. “Men can’t help themselves. While it is possible that Fancy Pants could have put the seat down after he used it, taking the other things into consideration, the logical conclusion is that this apartment hasn’t seen a male visitor in some weeks.
Fleur huffed for a second before getting up and walking over to the shelf above the fireplace. From behind a mantle clock, she pulled a sheaf of documents. "What you said is true, Fancy Pants hasn't lived here in nearly a month. I'm actually kind of impressed. I've had friends and acquaintances over several times, but none of them have noticed anything amiss, even the ones who know Fancy Pants well."
Fleur handed me the documents, and I saw there were several thick legal looking forms, topped off with a hand written note.
"Fancy Pants cheated on me," Fleur said, some bitterness creeping into her voice. "He cheated on me in my own bed."
I looked down at the note, noting it's ornate script. Someone had taken care when writing this.
My Dearest Fleur.
Words cannot express just how sorry I am for how the situation happened. I am not going to make excuses as to what happed, as that would only insult you further. I will understand if you never want to see me again; what I did was inexcusable, but at least let me explain.
It is tradition in Saddle Arabia for successful business partnerships to be celebrated by an exchange of gifts. I had given him a wood carving I had had commissioned for the occasion, and I had expected him to return the gesture with some valuable trinket or exotic spices native to Arabia, but Faris had other ideas. Rather than material goods, he set up ‘the finest filly from his stable' to entertain me for the night. From that description, I had assumed that he meant was offering me a gift of one of his prized Arabian racehorses. It wasn't until a girl from his personal harem walked into the room that I realised what he meant, and by that point, it would have been an insult to refuse his hospitality, though now I do wish that I had.
I was weak, and gave in to a moment of insanity; one that has cost me far more dearly than any failed business venture. While I pray that you will find it in your heart to forgive me, I will understand if you want nothing more to do with me. In such case, you only need to sign the attached papers, and it shall be so. All that which was mine, shall be yours.
Should you, in your kindness of which I am unworthy, choose to forgive me, then know that there is nothing that I wouldn’t do in order to prove my devotion to you again. Know that I swear to Celestia and Luna combined that nothing like this shall ever happen again.
I make no excuses for my action, but please do not blame Faris or Shaeisha. They are only guilty of following their own traditions.
I humbly beg your forgiveness of my unfaithfulness, though I have no right to.
I love you.
F. P.
The paper was splotched over with water stains, marring some of the words as if someone had been crying as they read it. Given what had happened, it was almost certain that Fleur had been crying.
“Along with that came these,” Fleur said, picking up a thick sheaf of papers. She handed them over to me, and I looked at the title. It was a set of formal divorce proceedings, already bearing Fancy Pant’s signature and seal.
I was no legal expert, but even I could see that it was heavily weighted in Fleur’s favour. If she had signed it, Fleur would have taken almost everything Fancy had. Lands, money, property, it would have all passed to Fleur. Aside from a modest single house in Canterlot, and a few bits to rub together, Fancy Pants would have been a ruined man.
“I must have stared at that paper for three hours, pen in hand. It would have been so quick, so easy to sign it and end it all. I would have been a very rich woman, and would never have to work another day in my life. But, I couldn’t do it. No matter how much he may have wronged me, I still love Fancy. I sent him back a letter telling him that I wanted time to think things over. He left Canterlot that same day, telling his partners that he had to leave on urgent business and would return when he could.”
I took another more careful look over the pages. Everything seemed to be in order; all that was missing was Fleur’s signature.
“What are you going to do?” I asked. In a similar situation, I would have almost certainly taken the easy way out here and fleeced Fancy Pants for all that he was worth. Being the one who had been cheated on would have scored me big points with just about any judge or jury.
“I don’t know,” Fleur admitted, her face falling as she spoke. “I still love Fancy, and I don’t want to see him hurt, no matter what he did. And to some degree this may have been partly my fault. I could have been more supportive of Fancy when he needed me during the deal, but I always seemed to have something more important to do, or I just wasn’t in the mood. I never really stopped to consider how he must have been feeling during all of it, so when somebody else came along, he must have been so pent up that common sense lost out to lust.”
With nothing else to gain, I gave the papers back to Fleur. She put them back where they had come from and sat back down. Neither one of us seemed to quite know what to say now. There was nothing more to be said on the matter, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to give an opinion on a man I had never met before, though had I been sober, I certainly would have.
The mood in the room had shifted down a gear or two. While nothing had actually changed; Fleur’s dress was still as translucent as ever, it just didn’t seem quite right to pick up where we had left off.
“Have you decided which room you want?” Fleur asked, trying to break the sudden silence.
“Any one will do,” I replied. So long as it had a bed, I didn’t really care. They were all the same in the end.
We both floundered about for a few moments longer, not quite sure where to go from there when Fleur got up and walked over to the kitchen again, exclaiming, “more wine!” While she was up, she also flicked on a record she had sitting in her player, and the sounds of jazz quickly filled up the apartment.
Fleur came back with several bottles of a good red, and we quickly got set about drinking them. Even still, the mood remained a little tense; what are you meant to say to an admission of infidelity? About the time we got onto the second bottle, I decided I was going to have to do something about it. Packed up on one of the shelves was a deck of cards. It would be perfect for a quick and simple trick.
Fleur watched with interest as I set out half the deck into columns of three. “Trixie will use her amazing mental powers to read your mind. Pick a card and point to its column,” I said, waving one hand over to deck. Fleur did so and pointed to one pile, already smiling to herself.
A couple of forced shuffles later, I had her card pegged as the three of clubs. Rather than shuffle the deck again, I flipped them all over and spread them out on the table, making a point to remember where the card I had picked went. “Trixie will read your mind, and pick up the psychic resonance from the deck to find your card.” One hand I held up to my own head, while I pointed the other one out at Fleur, exactly like a child would do if they wanted to make believe they could really read minds. By this point Fleur was looking excited and was watching the show with glee. After a few seconds of holding the pose, I started to search the deck, touching cards while muttering things like ‘no, not this one,’ or ‘Trixie detects nothing.’ When I came to the card I had pegged, I stopped and hovered over it for a second, as if reading some invisible force. “Trixie has found what she is looking for. You and the card are linked.” I flipped the card over, not even bothering to look at it before proclaiming, “You chose the three of clubs.”
Fleur clapped a little louder than was necessary, giggling like a little girl. Under my hand was the three of clubs. The actual trick was beginner’s level magic, but it would have seemed exactly like I had read her mind. “How could you have known?”” Fleur asked. “You rigged the deck, didn’t you?”
“How could Trixie have rigged the cards? It’s your deck.” This was a common accusation for me, and always defeated in the same way. How could I have possibly rigged their personal deck of cards that they saw me shuffle in front of them?
“I’m going to figure it out, you know,” Fleur said, defiant, but there was a smile back on her face, and once again the mood in the room lightened up when she looked at the cards and began laughing again.
We moved back to drinking the wine again, now having polished off no less that two bottles each. No doubt tomorrow we would have a serious hangover. Fleur kept chipping in with ideas on how I could have found the card, ranging from the absurd ‘it was a lucky guess’ to the convoluted ‘I had memorized the location of each card at each stage of the game.’ None of her guesses were right, and magician’s code forbade me from telling her. If there was one code that Trixie respected, it was the magician’s.
After a while, Fleur gave up and just let her head rest back on the couch, listening to the music while I played around with the cards, trying to build a house between rounds of solitaire.
Eventually the music playing stopped and Fleur pulled her head up and looked over to me, with something clearly on her mind, judging from the way that she was taking in a breath, as if she was about to speak before letting it out again. Eventually I decided to just prompt her and see if I could help her get whatever it was off her chest.
’There’s more than one thing I’d like to get off her chest’ The drunken thought floated through my head for a moment. It was that voice from before, made a little bit more flirty from the alcohol.
Eventually, Fleur seemed to find her nerve, and after a large gulp of her wine, she spoke up. “Trixie, do you mind if I ask you something rather personal?”
“Trixie has no secrets that she keeps hidden away. She is an open book to be read,” I said.
“Have…have you ever, you know, been with a woman before?” Fleur asked, her cheeks blushing slightly as she asked. It was almost adorable.
I snorted at the question, knocking down the five story house I had managed to erect. Personal indeed. Still, I had nothing to hide on this subject, and the wine was currently winning over my inhibitions. “Trixie has indeed been with women before. While she normally prefers the company of men, she did experiment when she was younger. Even now, she will make the occasional exception,” I paused for dramatic effect and stared right at Fleur, drinking in her curves, “If the right woman comes along.”
The rest of Fleur’s face burned to match the colour of her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes for a second.
“What about you?” I prodded. The way she was asking, I think I already had my answer.
“Oh, no,” Fleur admitted, still looking down at her glass. “I’ve always wanted to try it, but the right girl never seemed to come along. You know what I mean; that one person you just click with. When we were first dating, I tried to get Fancy interested in a threeway a couple of times, just so that I could say we had tried it, but he never seemed to go for it.”
Fleur took a deep breath and put a hand on my leg, about halfway up my dress where the slit gave way to flesh. “He’s a wonderful husband…most of the time, but he’s a little stunted in the bedroom at times. Very… traditional, if you know what I mean. I can’t really blame him for that, but things do get stale after a while. That Arabian bitch must have been special indeed if she could coax Fancy into trying something different."
Fleur looked back up at me, meeting my eyes with a spark of determination. “But now that I think about it, the only way that he and I are ever truly going to be even is if we truly become even. Even if I forgive him, there would always be that unsaid something between us that would slowly drive a wedge into our relationship. Fancy never leaves a debt unpaid, even if he has been told that he doesn’t need to.”
Was Fleur asking what I thought she was asking?
Her hand moved slightly up my leg, getting just a little too close to the top to be considered decent. I looked down at it for a moment, and when I looked up, Fleur’s face was inches away from mine, staring right at me.
“The only way I could get even with Fancy is to sleep with someone else; become as spoilt as he is.” She paused for a second, lightly chewing on her bottom lip. It looked sexy as hell. “I want it to be a woman, and I want that woman to be you, Trixie.”
Fleur leaned in, bringing her other hand around to the back of my neck. Timidly, she pressed her lips to mine, a quick peck filled with nervous energy. I could see the fear in her open eyes as she kissed another woman for the first time.
It only lasted for a second before Fleur pulled back, taking her hand off my leg and searching for something on my face. Fear crossed her face as she looked at me. Fear that she may have done something wrong, that I didn’t like her in that way, that I would just dump her and walk out of there after she put her naked heart on the line.
Gently, I grabbed her hand in mine and pulled it back to where it had been resting, guiding her fingers until they were almost touching my labia.
"Trixie would be honoured to be your first," I said before leaning forward and locking lips with Fleur again. This time there was no hesitation and Fleur met me hungrily, her free hand pulling me in close again, while her tongue duelled with mine for control.
The next few moments were all a bit of a blur. Fleur’s hands were all over me, and mine were running through her fine hair, or pulling her in closer. What I do remember was pushing Fleur up against the glass door leading out to the patio, though quite when we had stood up remained a mystery.
I fell to my knees before Fleur and lifted up the hem of her dress. Fleur responded by opening her legs a little wider, propping one leg up on the edge of the couch. From my position on my knees, my head was perfectly level with her panty-less crotch, and as she took over the lifting of her dress, Fleur’s sweet truffle came into view.
Cleanly shaven, Fleur’s pussy hung slightly open, small beads of moisture welling up in testament to her growing arousal. This wasn’t exactly the first time I had seen it, as Fleur had given me a few glimpses earlier, but this time was different. This time, Fleur was totally aware of what I was doing, and more than that, she wanted me to look.
I could hear Fleur panting slightly as my breath caressed her clit; such a thing could only be exciting her further. If this really was going to be her first time with another woman, then I was going to make sure that was not just memorable for her, but the most memorable fuck she would ever have.
Leaning in, I gave her a lick. Not a lick on her labial lips, like she must have been expecting, but just off to the side, right in the crease of her leg. I heard Fleur squeal, and her entire body twitched for a moment, before a hand lightly slapped the back of my head.
“Please, Trixie. I need this,” she pleaded.
I was enjoying myself immensely. It wasn’t often that I got to be in a position of power like this, so can you really blame me for wanting to make her suffer a little? Consider it payback for all that time I had to spend pretending to like her phony friends from the skybox. “Show Trixie how much you need this. Beg for me.,” I said, pulling my head out from under her dress to give her a cheeky air kiss.
“Why you little…” Fleur started, “Please, miss Lulamoon, I want you to fuck me. I want you to make love to me like no man ever has. I need you to grace my body with your tongue, with your fingers. Rut me senseless and make me scream out your name.”
As far as begging went, I had heard better, but I suppose that it would do for now. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said before ducking back under.
Once again, Fleur’s glory stood before me, nearly dripping with her desire. Her scent filled the air down here; a deep floral taste, with hints of something spicier. Rather than tease her again, I decided that I would be merciful and help relieve her of her lesbian virginity.
Rubbing one finger along my own moistening slit, I craned my neck up and licked Fleur; a long, slow lick right from her just below her anus all the way along her pussy to her swelling clit. Fleur’s juice flowed onto my tongue, filling my mouth with her flavour.
“Ohhhhh, yeesssss,” Fleur moaned above me, her thighs clamping down around my head. Again, I licked her, flicking and teasing her engorged sex. Every lick brought about fresh drips of her arousal, and it wasn't long before my face was covered in her tart juices. Throughout all of this, Fleur's hands were scraping across my back, or stroking my hair through the material of her dress. All that I really cared about was the next lick of Fleur's pussy; the soft flesh parted easily under my tongue, and it was a thrill I had never experienced before. I had never done this with a married woman before, and the idea of being able to put myself somewhere that no other woman had ever been was alluring.
"Oh, Trixie! Yes, right there!" Fleur was lost in her own little world of pleasure right now, and she muttered out short little sentence fragments along with squeals of delight. Each utterance of my name made me suck a little bit harder on her nub, desire to make her yell my name loud enough that even Fancy Pants would hear her driving me on into a frenzy of tongue and fingers.
Feeling particularly daring, I broke away from Fleur for a moment and licked up two of my fingers, getting them sopping wet and slippery. Not giving Fleur a moment to react, I stroked both fingers along her slit for a second before prising her folds open with my other finger and pressing up, sinking both fingers into her body one knuckle, two knuckles until they were both fully inside her.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH," Fleur screamed, her legs clamping down again around my intruding hand. I grinned and started to pump my fingers into and out of her vagina, slowly at first, but speeding up. Not to be left out of the action, I latched onto Fleur's clit again, lavishing the bulb with my tongue.
Fleur's breathing was becoming short and ragged. It wouldn't be long before she came, screaming my name as the greatest fuck she had ever had. It would be glorious, and a small part of me wondered if Fleur was a squirter or not. I hoped she was.
Just before she hit her climax, Fleur shoved me away from her with a rough push, leaving a trail of spit connecting her pussy and my mouth for a moment and my fingers shiny with her fluid. I looked up at her, a question on my face before she pulled me up and pressed her lips to mine, kissing me deeply. I knew that she must be able to taste herself on my lips, but that only seemed to increase the passion of her embrace.
“Let’s take this somewhere a little more comfortable,” Fleur whispered, grabbing hold of me and pulling me towards her bedroom. I wasn’t about to object; and it did seem a little suitable. She was going to deface her marriage in exactly the same spot that Fancy had.
We reached Fleur’s room in record time, and she nearly stumbled and fell onto the bed, landing right next to her stuffed toy.
“Sorry, Fluffy. This isn’t suitable for your eyes,” Fleur told her stuffed unicorn as she picked him up and put him in a bedside drawer. With the doll put away, she turned back to me. “Now, where were we? I think I was telling you that you are far too over dressed.”
Before I could stop her – though not that I would have – Fleur had grabbed the sides of my dress and had yanked it up and over my head. Several ties ripped in the process; clearly she wasn’t worried about how much it cost. She pulled it free and threw it carelessly across the room, leaving me naked before her. My nipples were fully erect, and a wet gleam was dribbling its way down my legs.
Fleur’s dress quickly followed mine, and Fleur lay back down on the bed, hands up above her head and legs spreading apart to reveal every inch of her body. One finger beckoned for me to join her; a command I wasted no time in obeying.
Seated just at the edge of the bed, I slid down onto the ground and pulled Fleur towards me. Her legs fit over my shoulders easily, and once again I was greeted by the sight of her sweet sex. It was sticky from her juice, and flushed a deep red from arousal. Below her slit, Fleur's tiny rosebud sat, neglected throughout all this.'Maybe later,' I said silently to the lonely opening before returned to my assault on Castle Fleur. This time, I was not going to be denied what I had been hoping for. No more games, I was going to make Fleur cum, and cum hard.
My finger quickly resumed their previous spot halfway up Fleur's vagina. It felt like they were being roasted from the heat, and I could feel every twitch of her body. My mouth and tongue went back to work on her outer features, focusing on teasing her and licking up every drip of her precious wine. All the while, I kept eye contact with Fleur, my view up her legs unobstructed now that she was naked. I wanted her to see me pleasuring her; wanted me to be the thing she saw as she came.
It didn't take long. After only a few more moments of pleasuring her, Fleur grabbed the back of my head and dove me forward, her legs wrapping around my body, mashing my mouth hard up against her pussy. She spasmed hard around my fingers, each twitch of ecstasy squeezing hard.
"OH, FUCK, TRIXIE!!!" Fleur yelled, loud enough that I was sure that the neighbours downstairs must have been able to hear it even over the sound of the rain.
Just as I had hoped for, every wave of Fleur's orgasm was accompanied by her squirting her cum over my face. spurts of cum, each one boiling hot splashed over my tongue, drowning out every other taste.
It felt like Fleur kept on cumming for hours, but it must have only been a few seconds before she fell back on the bed, arms splayed out on the mattress while her legs went limp around my shoulders. Her breathing was hard and fast, and the bedroom stank of sex. I fell back onto the floor, sweat and Fleur's cum leaving my skin flushed and slick.
"That was incredible," Fleur eventually managed to get out between pants. One hand was trying to swipe sweat off of her brow, while the other was fanning her face, trying to cool her off. “It’s true what they say; women know how to please one another. You are so much better with your tongue than Fancy is.”
"Trixie knows how to please her audience," I said, climbing up onto the bed next to Fleur. She stopped fanning herself and wrapped her arms and legs around me, pressing her body into mine. Her nipples were hard as bullets against my skin.
"Fleur agrees," she replied, mimicking my voice and mannerisms almost perfectly before rolling on top of me and brining her lips to mine. We kissed for some time, neither one of us trying to beat the other, but just enjoying to closeness of each others company.
Eventually, Fleur broke the kiss and looked at me with a wicked gleam to her eyes. "You know, I heard you in the shower earlier, Trixie."
"You heard that?" I said, blushing. Despite the fact that we had just had sex, somehow it was still embarrassing to know that she had seen me in such a private moment.
"Oh, yes. Jacking yourself off to naughty thoughts of me, weren't you." One of Fleur's fingers started stroking along my breasts, sending tingles throughout my body. She gave me one look over, lingering on my breasts, and especially my cunt. "Shame on you, trying to masturbate to thoughts of me, when the real thing is right here."
Fleur rolled over on top of me, sliding down until she was between my legs. With one final kiss, she reached down a little and clamped her mouth over one of my tits. She swirled her tongue around my nipple, lightly scraping her teeth over the sensitive flesh. Her hands here groping away at the other, kneading and squeezing as I had done earlier. Fleur’s motions were graceless and stiff, but that in itself was a treat. I was her first, and would always be her first.
Fleur changed to the other breasts soon, dragging her tongue along my body from one mound to the other. It felt so good, and I could tell that she was enjoying it nearly as much as I was.
Soon, Fleur broke away from my tits, and began kissing her way down my stomach, looking up at me all the while. We both knew what was coming next, and all I could think of was how much I wanted it to happen. Fleur worked her way past my belly and stopped just above my clit, pausing to look down at it, and all my pussy in close up glory.
"You smell divine," Fleur said, lightly tracing the outside of my pussy with her fingers. Even just their slight touch was enough to send jolts through my body. Her thumb brushed against my clit, and I jumped a little in response. Fleur grinned and brushed against me again. "I've never had the chance to do this before."
Fleur hands took over, stroking over my flesh, rubbing against me or lightly pressing the tip of her finger inside me, studying her first pussy like some bookworm. It felt great, but I needed something a little more than just teasing.
"Please, Trixie needs release," I gasped. If I didn't get to cum soon, I didn't know what was going to happen. I had never been this aroused without getting to cum before, and Fleur seemed to know that.
Fleur withdrew her fingers and settled down on her legs a little lower. From my perspective, I could see her framed by my legs, a look of anticipation on her face. Her breath caressed me as she gathered her nerve before burying her face in my cunt.
Fleur's tongue was everywhere, tracing an outline around me, sliding up my slit, and forcing its way deeply inside m. From her first lick, Fleur was going all out, having latched onto me like a leech and drinking deeply of my essence. Her hands had wrapped around my legs, and were holding me fast against her.
"You taste delicious," Fleur gasped, breaking away from me to take a breath, "So sweet like honey." Taking in another lungful of air, she down right back in, clamping her lips around me and pushing her tongue in as far as it could go.
That was it; I couldn't take any more. Fleur's tongue danced around inside my body and grazed against my G-spot. With a buck of my hips that almost broke Fleur's nose, I came, clamping my vaginal muscles around Fleur's questing tongue. She didn't let go, holding on for life and suckling as hard as she could throughout my orgasm. Just as the first one was slowing down, she pulled her tongue out and pressed her fingers in instead, bringing me to orgasm again, and again, and again, pumping her hand and adding in more fingers until she had none free.
Eventually, I had to push her away; my cunt was so sensitive I couldn't take anymore. Falling back against the bedrest and blinking spots away from my vision, I saw what I had done to Fleur for the first time. She was a mess. Her hair was dishevelled with sweat and cum, and her face was flushed and dripping with the same. The bed between us was soaked in out juice, the sheets stained with dark spots. And through out all of it, Fleur had the biggest smile I had ever seen.
"Amazing," she said, huffing a little with me, "that was simply amazing. Why did I never try this before?"
"It gets even better when you do it together," I said to her. "So much more intense. Care to try a sixty-nine?"
Fleur got up a little unsteady and ran one finger along my dripping slit, causing me to shudder under her touch. "As much as I'd like to say yes, I've got another idea. Let's see if I can find it." She turned around and walked towards her cupboards. Slinked was more like it, with a clear swinging of her hips.
She pulled open one door and began rummaging down near the bottom, throwing old clothes or shoes out onto the ground.
“Almost…no, that not…Ah ha! Got it!” Fleur said, pulling out a small box. It was clearly unopened, but looked old. Some of the colour and writing had faded away, and it was dented and rumpled like it had been stored under a great many other things.
“What’s in there?” I asked, curious as to what Fleur would be willing to go looking for in the middle of sex. What could be better than eating each other out at the same time?
“This,” Fleur said, opening the box and pulling out a small double sided dildo. It wasn’t particularly big, only a little bigger than a single sided one, nor was it very thick. “I got this years and years ago as a gag gift from someone, I forget who. I never got a chance to really try it out though; Fancy isn’t much of a fan of pegging.”
She looked up at me, holding the double cock in one hand. “Would you…like to try it with me? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
In response, I spread my legs a little wider and parted my labial lips with my fingers. “Trixie would love to try this." In all my previous handful of female encounters, I hadn't ever tried something like this.
I had to scoot up a little on the bed to give Fleur room, and she settled down opposite me, spreading her legs apart so that we formed an X. The dildo sat between us, and Fleur pressed the tip to me. I nodded to her, and she pushed it forward, the rounded rubber schlong sliding into me smoothly, filling me up in a way that neither Fleur's tongue, nor her fingers could quite replicate.
Fleur stopped when the dildo was about halfway inside me. The other end protruded out from my body, curving up slightly as if I had a penis. Fleur shifted her hips, lining the other end up with her entrance. I squeezed down hard on my end, holding it in place as she sank herself around the tip, sliding ever closer to meeting me.
Our bodies almost touched when Fleur came to a stop, just a few centimetres of air between us. The dildo felt strange; I could feel every twitch and motion of Fleur’s body through it, and I was sure that she could feel the same of me. Knowing that we were connected in such an intimate way, it was special.
“Ready?” Fleur asked me.
I nodded and pushed my legs apart as wide as they would go. Fleur bucked her hips, causing half the dildo to slide out of her, and a little to come out of me before crashing back down, filling us both up to the brim again.
It was a little awkward at first, and the end slipped out of Fleur on a couple of occasions, but we slowly managed to get a smooth rhythm down, and Fleur began to pick up speed, pushing a little deeper with every stroke, and soon we were both moaning with pleasure.
On one particularly deep thrust, Fleur took all the remaining dildo into her, and for the first time, our pussies touched. It was so unexpected, but felt so good; Fleur’s velvety flesh rubbing against mine. Fleur looked at me, and without saying a word, our motions changed, no longer thrusting but grinding against each other.
With the stimulation of our clits mashing, and the feeling of the dildo working its magic inside me, I couldn’t hold on for long. After only a few seconds of Fleur grinding down on me, the familiar tingle came bursting up from within.
Fleur felt me cum, and she slammed herself down on me hard, pressing her cunt right into mine, letting my spasms trigger her own orgasm.
“FLEUR!”
“TRIXIE!”
We came together, deeper and stronger than either one of us had before. My vision faded to sparkles and blinding spots, while Fleur leaned forward and pressed her tits into mine, the movement causing the dildo to pressed up hard inside me before slipping out, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Fleur fell to the side, her head flopping down onto my chest, and we just lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense sex I had ever had. I was spent, and even if I wasn’t, it sounded like Fleur was just about to collapse.
“Trixie has decided with bed she wants,” I said, cradling Fleur as she rested on my chest.
“Oh,” she asked groggily, “Which one?”
“Whichever one you are in.”
“I’d like that,” Fleur said, already sounding like she was half asleep.
Spent, drenched in sweat and cum, we both huddled up together on the sheets. With no reason to fight it, I let the sleep overtake me, and soon I floated away, off on a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I awoke alone; well except for a splitting headache and a mouth that felt like it had been lined with sandpaper. I sent out an arm to try and find Fleur, but she was nowhere to be found. Cracking open an eye, I realised that Fleur was more than just not in the bed; she was not in the room at all.
I quickly got up, thoughts that Fleur wanted me to leave without making a fuss drifting through my head, fuzzed over with the remains of sleep and the hangover clinging to them. I had thought that Fleur had been a better woman than that. But it seemed that she was just like all the rest; she had used Trixie for a night of pleasure, and now that it was over, she had just dumped her. This wasn’t the first time that Trixie had been used and then discarded.
In a burst of indignant rage, I grabbed the first thing I could find and threw it on. It was the dress that Fleur had given me last night. I had no idea where my dress had ended up, and I supposed that I might never see it again.
Quietly, I slipped out the door and headed down the hallway. I was just about to march out of the front door when a pair of hands wrapped themselves around my waist, while something wet latched onto my neck.
“Mmmm, good morning, lover,” Fleur’s silky voice came from behind me.
I turned around to see her, dressed in some shapeless top and jeans, with an apron on over those. The apron read ‘kiss the cook,’ and she had a spatula in one hand, along with a glass of fizzing water as some kind of tablet dissolved into the fluid. It was only then that I realised that there was the sounds and smells of cooking wafting through the apartment.
“Not thinking of leaving me all alone, were you?” Fleur asked, mock hurt bleeding into her voice as she handed me the glass. I downed it in an instant, letting the bubbles wash over my tongue. The throb in my head subsided a little; just enough to make talking bearable.
“When you weren’t there, Trixie thought you wanted her to leave…” I said, gesturing to the door.
“Leave? No, I’d never do that to you.” Fleur seemed a little offended at the idea. “I’m not going to kick you out, Trixie. We need to talk about last night, so you can at least stay for breakfast. I didn’t know how you like your eggs, so I made scrambled. Everyone likes scrambled.”
“I thought you didn’t eat eggs,” I started but Fleur cut me off.
“I said I was vegetarian. Vegans are the ones who don’t eat any animal product. I’ll happily eat eggs and dairy, just not meat. Fancy pretends to be vegetarian around me, mostly so that we don’t have to cook different meals, but I know he sneaks off every now and then for a steak. Now, come on. The food is getting cold.”
Fleur walked me back into the family room. Now that I wasn’t trying to sneak away, I saw that the rain from last night had slowed into a steady drizzle. Everything outside looked slick and shiny, as if it had been cleaned while we slept. Flags clung to their poles and trees dripped freely onto the sodden ground.
Fleur walked back with a pair of plates, each one piled up with toast and eggs, even a few mushrooms. Looking at it made me realise that I hadn’t eaten in nearly a full day, and I was hungry. Eating Fleur’s carpet didn’t count, especially since she didn’t have one. As Fleur put my plate down in front of me, I decided to make good on what her apron said, reaching up and kissing the cook, just it had told me to do.
“Trixie, not while we’re eating,” Fleur said, returning the kiss for a moment before pushing me away. She sat down on the other side of the table, and for a few minutes we both just eat the food. Fleur was clearly a talented cook, and it didn’t take long before I had cleaned my plate of anything but crumbs.
“Trixie,” Fleur began, putting her fork down, “I want to thank you for last night. That was one of the most intense experiences I ever had, and I don’t think I could have had it with anyone else. You may have very well saved my marriage, and I got to realise one of my deepest fantasies, so thank you.”
“Trixie needs no thanks.” It wasn’t strictly true, as I would accept any and all thanks that came my way. Especially if said thanks came with some kind of monetary compensation.
“I’m going to let Fancy Pants know that he can come back this afternoon. I know this isn’t the solution that he was hoping for, but at least now we can move forward together.”
“Will Trixie need to be gone by then?” Fleur may not have thrown me out now, but that didn’t mean she wanted me to stay on.
“What? No,” Fleur shook her head as she spoke. “You can stay on here as long as you like, Trixie. Consider it my gift to you after you spent all that money yesterday. And if you ever need a place to stay when you come back here, my door is open to you.”
“Will I get to see you again?” I asked.
“Not in the same way as last night, no,” Fleur said, “I’d love nothing more than to spend the next month with you on that bed, making sweet love for hours on end, but it wouldn’t be fair to Fancy Pants. This was a strictly one off affair.”
I could see that it hurt Fleur to say it, but I knew she was right.
Fleur looked down at her plate. When she looked up at me, there was a crafty sparkle in her eye, one that I recognized from last night. She was up to something.
“If there is one thing I learned from all this, it’s that I have just as much right to explore my fantasies as anyone. If I can convince him, and believe me, I’m going to this time – guilt is a wonderful bargaining tool – how would you like to be the first woman to take the richest couple in Canterlot to bed?”
“Do you mean…” I started, hoping that she meant what it sounded like.
“Trixie Lulamoon, are you up for a threeway?”
Despite her earlier protest, I kissed her again. This time she didn’t push away. “If it means getting to have you again, Trixie supposes that she can find some room in her schedule. Maybe she can show that husband of yours exactly what his wife has been getting in his absence.”
