Rarest of Lilies

Rarest of Lilies
The first piece

I stepped into my quarters at the castle. A fresh scent wafted through the air, carried by the soothing spring breeze. By the way ponies had been acting around me, someone might think I was the princess herself.

Opal greeted me, “Prrrow”. I ignored the fluffball, she walked to her bed and lay down, denied petting.

I noticed some type of gift basket had been left on my bed. I didn’t even look inside, probably some high class bribery. “I’ll go to your damn party, just leave me alone...” I cursed the inanimate object, wrapping it in my magic and casting it into the trash.

The bed sheets broke my fall as I flopped into them, asking them to hide my sorrow. My mental sheath dropped and I sobbed quietly into the silken covers. Good Celestia, how was this magical get-away not alleviating my sadness.

Ponyville wasn’t the cause of my despair, apparently. Nopony had been able to help me out of my depression. And there it was, I admitted it to myself, I was depressed. I knew it-I really did- but the weight of the words crossing my mind was crushing.

A rapping on the door roused me. I brought myself to my hooves, brushed my tears off, and made a quick pass at my eyelashes before opening the door.

“Well, if it isn’t the pony with the expensive taste,” A glorious pink-maned unicorn mare stood at the threshold.

My mask returned, “Well, if it isn’t the fashionable pony from earlier. I never did catch your name.” I matched her speech pattern mockingly.

“They call me by my mark,” She explained. “Fleur, Fleur-De-Lis.”

“Wonderful to meet you, I must apologize my forgetfulness. I don’t travel to Canterlot often, mind you, and I was swept up in the excitement... Oh! Where are my manners? I am-” I was cut off.

“Everypony knows of you, Miss Rarity. Introductions are quite unnecessary.” She stood with her head high, eyes half open, looking down at me.

I recognized her now, her voice was simply so different from when we had run into each other previously. Much sweeter and more youthful. Perhaps she had put up a facade, or just thought it sounded more elegant. I liked this much more.

“My reputation precedes me.” I grinned coyly, I knew it already, but hearing it was interesting. “What brings you to my humble abode my dear?”

“I would hardly call it humble! A stay at the castle? I resist jealousy with great effort.”

Wonderful... She just wanted to check out the royal suite... Very well. I played along. “Would you like to come in? Stay a while?” While on some level I wanted to be alone right now, I was so damn lonely.

“An invitation to the royal palace,” She put a hoof to her chest. Laying it on a bit thick aren’t we? I began to regret my decision to let this leech in.

She marched around for some time, examining artwork and checking out my temporary home. I stood by her side, smiling fakely as she marveled aloud. As she started making a second round, I decided I simply could not take her ‘ooing’ and ‘ahing’ any longer.

“I understand that you were invited, but I tire of your petty musings...” I made a pouty face at her.

She sighed, “Alright, I’ll level with you, I know what’s going on,” her entire demeanor shifted drastically. “Rarity, I see your pain.”

I gave her an eye. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure how the other ponies don’t see it, maybe they don’t care- I do.” Her words stung, and I wasn’t sure why. “You aren’t happy, it doesn’t need to be that way. Talk to somepony, talk to me.” She turned to me, looking away from the large oil portrait on the wall.

Her gaze pierced me, I could feel my eyes watering. “Stop this...”

“Rarity...” She trotted ever closer. My heart sank.

“Stop... Stop!” I was shouting now. I fell to my haunches, as she drew towards me.

“It’s okay,” Time moved so slowly, she tilted my chin up with a hoof. “I just want to listen.”

I stared at her, terrified, just for a moment, then bawled.

“Shh... Shh... What’s the matter... let it out,” I wanted to so badly.

“I don’t know...” I managed to conjure a few words. It didn’t stop the tears from ripping fissures down my face with my make-up. I buried my head in my hooves. She waited silently, hoof on my shoulder. “Every day- I ask myself: Do I want to live another day? And every fucking time, the answer is no. So why am I still here? Why can’t I curl up and die?” My voice was filled with anger, directed at no one specific.

I halfway felt like I was over dramatic, but my emotion just poured through. “Think of all the ponies that would miss you.”

“No!” My heart betrayed me, “I spend my whole life creating, giving away what I make, my time, my livelihood, everything! Where does it stop? Element of generosity... Why me? Answer me this: Who gives to me? What do I get back? Where does it end?” The sound of stone was jarring to her, she flinched each time I struck the ground.

I looked at her as if she had real answers, shaking my head, sincerity in my eyes. She put her muzzle to my ear. “It ends where you begin, those things don’t define you. What defines you are the experiences you have with others, the memories you make.” The most delicate insight I had ever heard resonated through my eardrum.

In a period of mental haze, as she pulled away, I followed. Our mouths met and, if only for a bit, there was bliss, a clearing in the sea of depression. Reluctantly, she kissed back, then stopped.

“No, not now,” My thoughts raced, did I do something wrong? “I won’t take advantage of you tonight. I don’t want to leave you alone though. I’m staying here, no objections.” I nodded, salty water still streaming down my face, painting part of my face black- like warpaint I imagined.

I was embarrassed, going for mares wasn’t something I could see myself doing, but who knew?

For the second time in my life, I got into bed with another pony.

She fell asleep facing away from me, not letting me touch her. My body was being cruel, I was overwhelmed with sadness, but here I was, getting wet looking at the unicorn beside me. Why was I horny? Seriously...

The sound of her inhaling and exhaling adjacent to me was amazingly beautiful. I hated myself the second I started, my hoof gently massaged my outer lips. Biting back a breath, I felt myself out. I tried to pant lightly so as not to wake the stunning Fleur-De-Lis. My eyes open, watching her, she turned over in her sleep. I didn’t flinch, she still slumbered.

My thighs clenched, the hoof working diligently, it dug a bit deeper. I moaned, quickly rolling to muffle any future noises I might elicit from myself by hiding my mouth in a cushion. One eye still watched her, taking in her full glory as she slept. My hips gyrated, attempting to attain the maximum possible pleasure from the experience.

I forged on, now much wetter than previous, I had proper lubrication. The warm fluid coating the area was welcome. I hadn’t given myself any attention in quite some time, depression was crippling me inside and out. But now I realized how badly I needed some sort of sexual release, even if it was me. Indulging again in my wetness, the edge of my hoof excited me as it touched my clit. I spat on the end of my other foreleg and reached down with it, I was getting closer.

Such an odd sensation, the drowning sadness and growing pressure between my hind legs. I wanted to cry, but I just went harder, numbing my anguish. I drew one extremity back up, and sucked on it for a bit, the taste aroused me further. Fleur switched sides once more, I could see most of her flanks now, her tail half covering the left side, but the imperfection turned me on even more. My breaths quickened, as did the speed of my rubbing.

I circled the bud just above my pussy and tightened my back legs, the fur adding to the feel. My back arched and rescinded with every motion, I was, after all, making love to myself. I didn’t really have anything to compare it to, masturbation was the only way I had ever reached climax before.

The white pony next to me let out a groan, sleeptalking perhaps, but it pushed me over the edge, i squinted my eyes tight, pressing hard into the pillow with my muzzle. My mane was getting roughed up, but what did I care? I looked like a wreck anyway. Carefully I brought myself to climax, allowing as much time as I could at the near perfect pleasure before, I released. Liquid coursed from my lower body, soaking the sheets beneath, I barely contained myself vocally. I hadn’t came in quite some time, and the sheer intensity of this left me shaking.

“Fuck...” I sighed as I finished. A cold sweat lightly covered my whole body.

Regret set in. Fleur would wake tomorrow morning and see -or feel- the wetness in the bed, and I would be utterly ashamed. I liked girls... Particularly the one laying next to me, and I had just gotten off to her. I felt awful in so many ways.

Physical exhaustion took over as I gently wept into the satin pillow. Sexual frustration taken down, I let myself drift away.

For the lack of clop I am sorry
But poor Fleur has no background story
Jura~