Her Finest Silk

by Hivemind

Rating: mature
Tags: Fleur de Lis, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Original Character, Sex
Length: 13697

You are the newest addition among the ranks of Canterlot's rich and elite, and winning a prize at the birthday party of Fleur de Lis nets you much more than a rare opportunity to confess your feelings for her.

2nd Person

You are the newest addition, the newest noblepony, among the ranks of Canterlot's rich and elite. Life has been good to you for the past month after your father left everything to you, and though you have quite a long way to go you had a feeling that everything could only get better from there. As such, you get your first real taste of the sweet life at the birthday party of Fleur de Lis, the mare you've had your eyes on, and the mare who has been one of your closest friends since you were barely a stallion.

Though it's been years since the two of you last met, with your ambitions diverging as you both grew into adulthood, your feelings for her have never left you, and when you finally get the chance to meet with her again, a bizarre chain of events gives both of you the night you've always wanted.

Published 2015-11-01 22:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-01 22:40:03 UTC

Ch. 1 (Story)

Author's Note

Important Note: This is the story portion of Her Finest Silk. I intentionally broke up the story and sexual content so readers only looking for the sex wouldn't have to dig through it to get there. If you came here for the smut, click here.

Ch. 1 (Story)

The wine tasted a little funny, and its color wasn’t exactly what you’d call “natural.” Its palatableness seemed to hinge almost entirely on the alcohol. It was definitely more bitter than you preferred, and did it just turn salty all of a sudden? Eugh! Why was that in there? What backwards ingredients did they use in this swill other than grapes?

“So, how did I do? How did it taste?” asked the servant mare in front of you wearing a mile long grin, eagerly awaiting your answer as you tried your absolute best keeping a disgustingly sour sneer at bay. If anything, your grin was just as long as hers, creepily so, like it were ripped straight from a picture on a dentistry advert. You had only taken one sip, but already you felt like washing the bad taste from your mouth with a glass of punch from across the room. You didn’t even like the only flavor they had, but boy were you starting to get desperate.

You sheepishly glanced between the wine glass in your hoof and the servant standing only inches away from your face, your grin slowly but surely easing into a more sincere smile as you thought up of ways you could reply to her without making her feel like a fool. Both of you were pretty new to the whole “noblepony” gig. You inherited your father’s enormous fortune a little over a month ago, and everything in between, still leaving you with plenty of room to start learning from your new adult peers and get better used to the high life as a big bit name, but this mare looked young. Hardly twenty years of age, it seemed. She couldn’t have been doing this for very long at all, and she doubtlessly needed improvement on her knowledge of wines and pairings. But this was a pretty big party, after all, and the last thing you wanted on your mind that could have ruined your whole night out was the guilt of making her feel inferior to all the tall hatted know-it-alls in the room.

You cleared your throat. “It tastes fine. You did fairly alright, for your first on-the-job suggestion, that is, though in all honesty it tastes as if this would go better paired with something rather than remaining on its own.” The saltiness of the bottle filled with crimes against grapes gradually dulled on your taste buds, and you felt brave enough to smack your lips and tongue together as if you were willingly reinvigorating the taste to make your next words more convincing. “Some chocolate, maybe a fine cheese or two, might do the trick next time. No dark chocolate. It’ll overpower any flavor. Practice makes perfect.”

How surprising that you remembered all that. Your schooling for “distinguished gentlecolts” from back when you were younger might finally be starting to pay off, even if you did end up sleeping through a few classes. What wasn’t surprising was the way you remembered how your mother scolded you incessantly when she received the dean’s informative letter home. Those weren’t fun times. The mare’s wings fluttered gleefully and she nodded to you, and you nodded back, returning the wine glass to her. She placed it on her serving tray and you each exchanged farewells before going your separate ways.

You could hardly believe you pulled that off. You've had control over the manor, the butlers, the maids, the money, and you still had little idea what you were doing, which was...fine. It was fine. You'd get the hang of it soon enough.

You strolled along the ballroom’s polished marble flooring as you thought to yourself, admiring all the sights, sounds, and smells of a typical noblepony birthday bash. Fleur de Lis was the lucky mare, but if the invitations weren’t enough to tell somepony that then perhaps the colossal ice sculpture of her in a gallant pose sitting atop the refreshments table would suffice. Nobleponies from across the land were in attendance tonight from the tall to the small–rich barons, distant members of various royal families, and businessponies of leisure. Fleur was quite the pony of note, as both you and everypony who was anypony was here to celebrate with amidst familiar company, orchestrated music, fine foods, and party favors fit for the civilized world’s elite.

Aside from the wine tasting, you haven’t stopped smiling since you left the family manor that evening. This was your first big event, your first truly influential social as the face of the family name, one that your mother had been looking forward to for weeks. Oh, and it showed too. While you ambled along handsomely, your collar well-pressed and your mane as devilish as it was well groomed, several figures your father knew called out your name, threw a wink, or tipped their hats to you. A few even made small talk as they too walked amongst the chattering crowds. It was mostly the usual “how does your evening fare” kind of talk at first, but then the topics became more of a daunting challenge to answer. “What do you plan on doing with your father’s fortune?”, “Your father was a wise, handsome stallion. I’m sure you’ll live up to his name.”, and “He must be so proud of you.” were a few of the questions that nearly made you choke, but you powered through them and responded to each of them as plainly as possible. They seemed to understand. You hoped that they were the least difficult moments of your night.

“Excuse me? Sir?” A squeaky voice piped up next to you as you were poured a warm cup of tea by a servant at the refreshments table. You expressed your gratitude to the servant before turning to face the voice. It was yet another servant; a lanky one, but with a welcoming smile and perfect posture. Give him a proper suit and tie and he would fit in perfectly. He was a unicorn, keeping a wicker basket held aloft with his magic. He levitated it to you as you downed a nice sip. “Have you received a ticket for the raffle tonight?”

“Raffle ticket?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. Curious, you looked down into the basket and at the pile of paper vouchers it held. You chose one at random, silently reading a set of numbers labeled on it. “I never knew we were having a raffle tonight, especially at a birthday party. Do they occur often?” Your question, though sounding strange to the servant, was actually genuine. Here, you have a large assortment of ponies with more money than they know what to do with and there’s a raffle going on? Surely whatever prize must be on offer can be acquired through one of the many, many means available to a pony of significant standing. If it were good enough then anyone would practically just throw enough bits at it until it’s theirs. There was plenty of it, after all...well, that sounded awfully arrogant. You would be a true noblepony in no time.

“Huh? Oh, well, sometimes they happen. I can’t say for sure.” The servant levitated the basket back to his side. “There’s just one happening, I guess.”

“Oh. Well then, what’s the prize?”

The servant lit up like a garden bulb with an excited smile that was as wide as he was tall. “Oh, it’s one of the best prizes ever!” the stallion exclaimed, on edge all of a sudden with excited fervor. “See the gift table over there?” He asked, gesturing in the general direction of a table stacked high with presents. Most of them were wrapped, and others were too big to be wrapped, like imported pieces of furniture, and what looked to be a gigantic stone statue of hydra. What a rich noblepony inclined primarily towards fashion would do with a piece of art like that you may never know. You wondered how it even got through the front door. “The one with the winning raffle number gets to personally present their gift to Miss Fleur. There’s also another prize, but nopony, not even the servants, know what it is, at least as far as I know.”

Personally present their gift to...gift? Gift! Where was your gift?! Your hooves erratically fumble in and around your suit coat pockets until you reward yourself with a deep sigh of relief. You felt it, your gift, the box, its smooth shape hiding away in one of your lesser used pockets. For a moment, you suspected you had left it back home. Such would have been a huge embarrassment, to say the least, but only now do you notice that your raffle ticket had disappeared, having been carelessly dropped in the midst of panic. You look up to notice that the servant had picked it up and was reading it, wide-eyed. You stared at him quizzically, then he looked back at you before quickly regaining his smile and returning it to you.

“Sorry, sir.” spoke the servant, rising to his hooves and turning the other way. “I’ve got to get to handing out more tickets. Good luck, and all that.”

He slipped away shortly thereafter, leaving you more confused than complacent. Him reading your raffle ticket was equally strange. It wasn’t like he would be cheating. You pushed the trivial matter aside as spur-of-the-moment curiosity on his part and put your focus towards what was now your real reason for coming here tonight: winning that raffle. For the sake of winning it and getting the chance to gloat in that good, old noblepony fashion? No. To have the chance at personally meeting the extravagantly beautiful Miss Fleur de Lis...again?

You wanted nothing more.

Fleur never had a normal life (within a noblepony’s definition of “normal”, of course) before her fashion career took off, when her Prench mother and father still resided in Canterlot, to an extent. You were barely a young adult back then, and the same could be said of her too. You recalled the relationship your parents shared with hers, even if it was only mutual in affairs of business far beyond your juvenile jurisdiction. Fleur’s parents were often away from home. They both worked prestigious and important positions, so not even her mother stayed behind at their mansion to look after her daughter, instead relying on servants, maids, butlers, and a secretary to care for her every need. During these times, you remember your mother mentioning to you when you asked that, unless Fleur was invited somewhere, somewhere for some reason only her parents approved of, she was kept confined to her home and the grounds surrounding it. A small compliment of security ponies saw to that. You couldn’t even get close enough to say hello.

Past memories were what really hit your newfound desire home. The two of you were good friends, and have been for many years. On the off chance that Fleur was actually allowed outside her home, it was to attend somepony else’s parties, like the ones your parents consistently forced you to attend. Your opinions of them may have changed, but you dreaded them back then. What was a kid like you supposed to do for hours on end in a room full of boring adults discussing equally boring things like they were caught in a turn of the century loophole? Despite hours of pleading, both of you were forced to go anyway. You and she were almost always the youngest ponies in attendance. It was one of the only reasons you two became friends in the first place. Nopony else was relevant enough to talk to. With more parties came more talks, and before you knew it you were out the door and in the carriage before your parents on the eve of every new soiree. You came to admire her in a way that caught on and has thus far stuck with you ever since. She was ravishingly beautiful, considerate, and was groomed as though she were Celestia herself. Her charming Prench accent was a plus too. You’d heard nothing else like it.

You supposed that was around when you became truly attracted to Fleur. Whether it was her heart or her looks you just couldn’t say. Your friendship those years ago was as solid as a rock, and even though the two of you began to drift after a time, with you coming of age in the family and Fleur getting her career as a supermodel off the ground and gaining some degree of independence, you still saw each other enough to not forget about the other completely and quietly fade away.

Now, this, this was your golden opportunity; a godsend in its suddenness. You had to ask yourself how deeply your affection ran for her to know how much you wanted to win that raffle. You loved her, and deeply so, but innumerable circumstances kept you from acting upon it, and you cursed the hours wasted not attempting to do just that. Unless you started looking for her in the ballroom, then it may be the only chance you get to finally express yourself, your feelings, to her before the opportunity was lost forever.

Which is immediately what you did, and for the whole next hour you double, and even triple, checked every corner of the ballroom. Nowhere was she to be seen. Why would the host not mingle among the guests of her own birthday party? She wasn’t a recluse, after all, but not even questioning the other guests helped you. They hadn’t seen her either. The same can be said for the servants, most of whom haven’t seen her since that morning. Things were looking grim. Was she ill or displaced somewhere? The big prize at the raffle couldn’t be given out otherwise. You grew more worrisome by the minute. Perhaps it was why the servant from earlier made mention of a second, yet-to-be-announced prize, maybe meant to serve as a backup. You deeply hoped that wasn’t the case.

As you returned to the refreshment table with plans to get a drink and calm your nerves, you and others around you were suddenly stopped dead in your tracks when a sudden high pitched, metallic wail ripped through the air, silencing the orchestra and the whole of the ballroom. Your ears rang fiercely, as did everypony else’s, a wave of pained moans and groans rippling throughout the room.

“Nnn! How appalling!” exclaimed an irate mare close by, sneeringly glaring around the room to try and find the source of the disruptance that brought such a disturbing quiet.

“Where in the wide world of Equestria did that come from?” a local stallion then piped up, rubbing away the discomfort in his ears.

You wanted to know as well, as did everypony else amidst the muddled turmoil. Questions soon found their answers as a loud and distinct foreign voice began to speak over them all. “Excuse me? Yoo hoo! Friends, friends, settle down now.”

It was a nicely dressed, somewhat old aged mare behind a microphone, and on a stage you swore you remembered wasn’t there before. Her little clarion call attracted almost everyone in the room, gathering them at the foot of the stage. Ponies everywhere seemed to shed their anger, replacing it with smiles, and were reaching into their pockets and withdrawing something small, then moving to join their fellow party goers. You wondered what it could all mean, until common sense came along.

The raffle! You thought in surprise to yourself, hastily retrieving your ticket as you hurried to join the others. You read your numbers time and again, then twice that amount, just to be sure. You couldn’t risk losing it again.

“Now, ladies and gentlecolts,” the old mare continued after being joined by what seemed to be an equally old stallion close at her side. For a moment, you wondered if they were related. “On behalf of Miss Fleur de Lis, we thank you for attending this, the evening of her birthday celebration. As much as it pains us to say this, there is a chance she herself may not be attending this evening.” A soft uprising of dispirited grunts flowed from within the crowd, to which the old mare responded: “Worry not, everypony. Nothing is certain, as of yet, but Miss Fleur has only recently informed us that she wishes to express her gratitude and unspoken words of thanks to everypony in attendance tonight. And so, at her behest, the raffle shall proceed as planned!”

The time had come at last. Ponies cheerfully clapped at the news they had all been waiting to hear, and so did you. At least it meant that Fleur wasn’t too preoccupied to attend her own party, leaving a chance that you would get to see her after all. Besides, there was still a prize to be won, whatever it was. It was difficult to complain, though it was better for you to stop worrying.

The stallion held a bowl out to the old mare, who adjusted her heavy rimmed glasses before digging a hoof in. Raffle tickets were held up at the ready when the mare retrieved a slip of paper. She cleared her throat and unfolded it.

“The numbers are...”

Here we go...

“Six.”

A stallion next to you suddenly gave an irritated huff, his ears drooping as he let his ticket fall to the floor. Sorry, bud. One down.

“Eight.”

You heard more huffs and grunts waft from the lips of other irritated guests. You had two right numbers so far. Can it be made into three?

“Two.”

Buck.

Apparently not, because there just went your chances. Oh well, but there was always next time.

“D’oh! W-What?” The mare jolted suddenly when the stallion next to her elbowed her leg. He looked angry for a moment, gesturing poignantly at the slip of paper she held. Confused, she held it closer to her face, reading it slowly and delicately. The crowd were whispering amongst themselves by the time she spoke up again. “Oh, my apologies, everypony. That number should read a one, not a two. I truly need to renew my prescription on these things. Darn bifocals...” corrected the mare, removing her glasses and rubbing the lens with a white cloth while she talked.

Wait, really?!

You might not have to wait until “next time” after all. You actually had three out of the four numbers. Three! You were so very, very close to victory!

“And the final number is...”

Come on, come on, please say it, please say–

“Four! Six, Eight, One, and Four! Have we a winner among us?”

...she actually said it.

While the rest of the crowd showered themselves with a light rain of “aww”s and “oh well”s, you and your heart were jumping for joy. Not really, though. As fun as it was to exalt one’s victories you had a feeling that doing so here would only make them quick to judge you as a nitwit for being rewarded with something so comparatively trivial. They were nobleponies after all.

But it wasn’t about anypony else right now. It was now all about you. With the happiest smile you could bring to bear, you threw your hoof up into the air and waved it, catching everypony’s eye in the process. “It is I, ma’am! Winning numbers are right on my ticket!”

“Is that so, sir?” The mare giggled, gesturing towards the stage. “Well then, step right up!”

Though they weren’t too enthused about not winning, your peers looked to you with gentle smiles and understanding, clearing a path and congratulating you in good sportship as you led yourself out of the masses and onto the stage, all while moving with an elated kick in your step. You shook hands with the hosting pair before handing them your ticket. After a quick inspection, they nodded to each other and looked to you again, looking very pleased.

“And the winner you are, sir,” the stallion muttered to you as the crowd began to disperse. He offered to shake your hoof again, which you gladly accepted. Redundancy was perfectly fine with you, given your delightful state of mind in the moment. “Have you your present for Miss Fleur?”

“Present?” Suddenly you were confused. Were you mistaken earlier? “Yes, I do have it with me, but if Miss Fleur de Lis is not in attendance here than how am I going to–?”

‘Say no more, say no more!” the mare exclaimed, quickly darting behind you and nudging you forward with quite a bit of force, almost knocking you to the floor. You immediately picked up how she wanted you to start moving, but she persisted in nudging you, and with the stallion moving alongside you. Still, it left your question unanswered.

“W-Wait, where are we going? Is Fleur here now? Are we going to meet her?” You hastily stammered out your reply whilst being led across the ballroom and through the main entrance. As you moved, you spotted the servant who gave you your ticket from earlier, and he was wearing a grin more smug than a cartoonishly evil villain. He even sent a wink your way, but even more astonishing was the fact that the stallion next to you nodded back to him. He was gently tossing a jingling brown bag in his hooves. Were those bits? Was he paid for giving you the winning ticket? He had to have been, but where did that leave you? Suddenly all the joy you got out of winning the raffle was starting to melt into a bubbling pool of concern. There was an awaiting carriage just ahead with a steward holding the door wide open. Surely they would have explained something to you by now? “Will one of you just tell me what’s going on? Where are we going that would require a carriage ride?”

“We are not going anywhere, sir.” the stallion finally piped up, stepping aside as the mare behind you nudged you further, driving you into the carriage. “It will be you who is paying a visit to her.”

“Me?” The carriage door was shut and the pair that had escorted you turned and began walking away. “To her? To Fleur?”

The stallion stopped for a moment and gave a dismissive wave of his hoof back at you. “You’ll know when you get there, my boy. You’ll know.”

You had plenty of questions still in dire need of answering, but they were already back inside and well out of earshot. You were lurched forward and thrown against the wall as the carriage began to move. You weren’t sure at all what you should’ve made of the minute’s past events. You wondered if the raffle might have all been a sham; a cover for something more sinister. They wouldn’t, no, couldn’t do something like that to you!

A quick check of your coat pockets proved otherwise. Everything was where it should be. They stole nothing from you, asked nothing of you, never threatened you, yet were acting shadier than most politicians. This was all too strange, and yet...a quick look out of the carriage window, and there it was: the de Lis family manor. It was coming into view, and you weren't riding past it either; you were headed straight for it. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“The de Lis manor, sir.”

The carriage door was opened for you. The steward from earlier must have been riding along, for he was the one who just invited you off. You complied with a slow nod, stepping outside and into the cool night. Her family manor. You were really here. Never before have you visited, yet here you stood, only a few feet from her doorstep, like that Daring Doo lass you’ve heard so much about whenever she stumbles upon a sealed temple. The home’s aesthetics were gorgeous. It almost put your family’s manor to shame.

You were too busy gawking at all the fancy lighting and masonry to take notice of the commotion behind you until the last second. You turned, only to find that the carriage had pulled away and was already past the front gate, leaving you alone in the middle of an eerie, strangely insectless silence–no guards, no servants, nothing. The ornate front door stood tall before you with a large brass knocker in place of a doorbell. There was little else for you to do except...progress. Surely, this was but a taste of what was to come.

The moment you laid your hoof on the knocker, the door suddenly flung open, scaring what little daylight was left out of you. A petite, posh looking mare with a bushy mane stood in the doorway, staring you down like the on-edge statue you were. You could hardly move, as if the scare was too much for you to process all at once. Her ruby red eyes scoured you from head to hoof, then she put a hoof to her hip before leaning against the frame. “Name?”

You answered her without delay while carefully lowering your guard.

“Yeah, you’re him,” she breathed a sigh through her nose, turning and stepping back inside. You were unsure if you were supposed to follow her until a loud “Well? Come on.” made you. The door led straight into the foyer. Extravagance and wealth was visible everywhere, from the art pieces on the walls to the grand marble staircase inlaid with gemstones of countless variety. This was your first time ever being here, and there was still so much more you wanted to see but, much to your displeasure, most of it would have to wait. The mare, who you assumed was the family secretary, was leading you up the stairs now. If it was anything like what you’ve seen so far, there had to be something worthwhile up there.

“Just stick with me and try not to get lost. We’re almost to the great hall.” the mare instructed, leading you down a long corridor on the third floor. Just from what you’ve seen on your walk so far you’ve deduced was way more than enough to put your family’s manor in a position of being second rate. Gold trim and catalogs-worth of decoration literally cluttered the place. You never knew Fleur to be a hoarder, if such was the case here. Like the rest of the home, you didn’t get to see all that you wished to see, which was unfortunate. However, the two of you seemed to be approaching the aforementioned great hall at the very end, and from the way the double doors were quite wide open you could tell there was somepony within by the shadow they cast on the wall opposite from a roaring fire. Could it really be her?

“She’s inside,” the mare spoke again, halting just outside the doors. “Head on in. She’s waiting for you.”

You inched your steps closer to the doors and peered in through the gap between them, and there she was: Fleur de Lis, in all her beauty and splendor. She looked just as you remembered, even from the paltry view you had now and were eager to do away with. It was time to confront her. Before heading inside, you wished to thank the mare that led you here, but she seemed to have vanished from your side and was already halfway down the corridor again. Like so many things that just had to be postponed, you decided to leave thanking her for later before turning and slipping inside, your heart pounding all the while as you worked to silently shut the doors, whereupon they not so silently bang shut in their aged hardwood frames. Your heart was racing by this point as the bang drew the white mare’s attention from across the room. You watched as she lifted her head, look, then turn, staring you down with a big, cheery smile.

“You’re early.”

Her delicious Prench accent nearly distracted you from what she just said.

“E-Early, Fleur?” You asked with a puzzled expression, bravely daring to take your first steps towards her. You nearly had a panic attack when she did the same. She didn’t follow your inquiry with anything, only continuing to stare at you for some reason, and hungrily, like a predator with their prey. She may have looked as you remembered, and was still attractive from any and all angles, but there was something very different about her now. It was a bit unsettling. Those eyes captivated you for hours years before, but never have you seen her act like this.

“Early.” Fleur repeated without sharing a reason for your supposed earliness, and apparently leaving it at that while meeting you in the middle, but only now was she the next pony to start eyeing you up the moment they saw you, head to hoof, again and again. At least she looked cute while doing it, sitting there relaxingly, posture straight, her eyes bright and colorful. Her smile widened. “You look good.”

“As do you.”

More silence followed. It was more admired than it was awkward, and you both seemed to appreciate it. The two of you continued to stare at one another until you managed to crack a smile big and goofy enough to get her to laugh. It was the most welcoming sound you’ve heard since your “congratulations” back at the party. It’s been far too long.

“So, mon ami...” Fleur starts as she began to encircle you. Now this was new. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t paying attention to the way she displayed herself, flaunting her bodacious bows and arches every which way like waves rolling on the sea, mesmerizing you. You couldn’t resist chancing a longer look every now and then, and she didn’t seem to mind, so why not? Once she made a full circle, she came to a stop in front of you, with her back towards you and her head looking over her shoulder. “Where is it?”

“Getting down to business, hmm?” You tease to add a bit of charm to the temperate air, reaching into your coat pocket and retrieving a black velvet box. “And here I was thinking that Miss Fleur de Lis, the talkative filly in the pink ball gown at yet another party of Sir Diamond Laces all those years ago, was more dignified than that. I mean, really–present first, friendly ‘hello’ later?” You began to approach her. “You always surprised me.”

“Oh hush.” Fleur managed to say during a red-faced giggle. “You barge in here at an inappropriate time, early and unannounced, and claim me to be the less dignified one? And where did all that schooling for distinguished gentlecolts go? What was it you told me...in one ear and out the other?”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner. “Enough, enough.” Again, Fleur giggled. She was having more fun with this than you were.

You circled around to her front and lowered yourself to your haunches, presenting the box to her as a stallion would present an engagement ring to their bride-to-be, albeit with no bending of the knees. You removed its lid and held your reveal aloft. The mare’s eyes brightened as she beheld what was inside for many moments before gripping it in the glow of her magic. She levitated your gift, a jeweled pendant, into the air and squeaked with all the excitement of a filly in a candy store . You honestly weren’t expecting that. Fleur was one of the richest citizens in Canterlot, and with a fortune like hers she was bound to own at least a few trunkfulls of gems and jewelry. If anything, there was only one thing that was different about your gift in particular.

“It was a family heirloom, passed from generation to generation until it landed in my hooves when I was but a little colt. I figured that, since there’s a good chance I might lose track of it over the course of the years I will be in my father’s position, you should have it, as a token to remember me by.”

“Oh, mon cher, I love it! But...” Up to this point, she was overflowing with joy over a gift so comparatively simple for a noble citizen of such high standing, but her cheerful expression slowly deflated as she took in your previous few words. “To remember you by? What for? A-Are you leaving?”

“Next week...” You had a feeling she wouldn’t take your next words too well. She already looked so disappointed. Thinking back on it, you didn’t have to say anything when you handed it to her, but you did it anyway; extraneous detail that would have been better left unsaid. You felt awful. It’s been years since the two of you have had an encounter like this, and to see her go from elated to downhearted so quickly tore you up inside. “My father left me all that he had. The fortune, the manor, the business–the works. Now it’s my responsibility to carry it all on. I’m leaving for Manehattan next week to speak with his lawyers and investors to officially put me in his place. After that, it will be difficult to say when I will next be back in Canterlot.”

“...oh...” Fleur sighed, looking more downcast than you’ve ever seen before. She somberly looked up at the pendant still floating next to her before lacing it around her neck. “I see.”

“I’m sorry, Fleur.” You murmur. “I was hoping you’d understand. You travel quite a bit too, yes?”

“I understand, mon ami, but...” Fleur shook her head, casting her gaze elsewhere for a moment. “How selfish of me to think this...I was hoping you would be less like your father.”

“Less like my father? How do you mean? Were you hoping I would stay in Canterlot?” Fleur nodded.

Fleur cracked a most welcome smile and began to stroll towards the fireplace. The flames within were thin and wavering, mere minutes from snuffing out. She levitated a few logs from a stacked pile nearby and added them in before reaching for the poker. You decided to join her after a minute goes by without an answer, sitting closely next to her and offering a friendlier, more effective form of comfort, the results of which began appearing soon enough.

“Mother and Father are taking an early retirement,” She started, reigniting the fireplace and watching the new flames belch forth from beneath the wood. “They will remain here in Canterlot and travel only rarely, though I do not wish to linger here while they get settled in.”

“Your mother and father...” You murmur before coming upon a sudden realization. “They were at the raffle!” Fleur’s grin widened a little as you pieced in more of the puzzle. “She slipped up when she called out the winning numbers...or did she?” You rub your chin as you slowly turn your head, smirking. Her grin widened even more when she glanced at you, then chuckled while she put the poker away. It was all coming together.

“It was mostly my doing. They have hounded me for months to meet a nice stallion, settle down, have foals of my own, get them some grandchildren, that sort of thing. I’m barely a decade into my career. How silly does that sound?”

“Not too silly, really.” You admitted to cheer her up more, chuckling along with her. “There’s little stopping you from choosing to live your life in unparalleled luxury. What is really silly is the fact that you don’t have an army of gentlecolt callers battering down your front door. All those magazines you’re in seem to think so.”

Fleur blushed at that. “You’re sweet.”

“But why are you telling me all of this?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. On a vacation, to Prance.” You noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Fleur’s legs and tail had shifted a bit and were now closer to you, a hair’s length away from your own. You chose not to look down, not yet. If she was doing what you thought she was doing all along there was a good chance looking would spook her, and ruin any chances you had of getting close to her in the way that you always wanted. “I love Mother and Father as much as I love my career, mon ami, but while they are moving back in for good they’re going to want to get to know everypony all over again. They will want me to do it with them, the outings will be virtually endless, and I’ll be run ragged long before I have the chance to back out.”

It was pretty surprising to you to learn that Fleur still loved her parents so. Though it was clear that she had learned everything she needed to know on her own or with the help of tutors, they still weren’t there for most of her young adult life, but you were quick to push such negative thoughts about them aside. That was the past talking, not the present. You weren’t anypony worthy enough to judge them based off of that. Things change.

You suddenly and softly gasp as you feel something snake its way onto your forehoof. You reel and lift it up, forcing a little yelp from the mare as well. The two of you resumed your stare into the eyes of the other for many tense moments before slowly rolling your gaze down and lowering your hoof. Fleur did the same, but not onto the floor, yet onto you; your hoof, hesitantly, where it remained. Not only did you allow it, but you had been waiting for it. You nodded in approval, and she smiled again, continuing.

“I figured a few weeks, perhaps a month, revisiting where I was from would give Mother and Father plenty of time to get settled in on their own. I could also use the break before the next season’s fashion trends hit and the agency starts calling back. Mon ami, I...” Fleur paused, glancing down at your bridged hooves as she searched for her next words. She rolled her hoof over yours and clenched it before leaning her head down and brushing her pillowy soft cheeks against your face, her eyes slowly blinking. Even for a noblepony, you almost felt embarrassed that she was doing all of the work, but this wasn’t a public setting, so why care? Still, you were getting closer to what was clearly your mutual goal, and you boldly capitalized on the moment by craning your neck and letting her head slip under your chin, being careful to avoid her princessly long horn. A gentle moan could be heard rumbling her throat. “I wanted to thank you for being my only real friend all those years ago, and...I have a confession to make.”

Fleur slid her head out from underneath yours. She adjusted her position as your gazes locked again, but with a determinate will in your heart you then did something as equally daring as before. When she opened her mouth to speak again, you planted your free hoof over it, gently, and took her by surprise.

“As do I, but...really, Fleur?” You chuckled, choosing to wholly ignore your inappropriateness before removing it. You eyes sweep over the whole of the room, harking back to the moments before this one and reviving them in your head. The raffle, Fleur’s somatic presentation, the roaring fire, the lack of formality, her tease at settling down; it was all there, and you were no fool. Your shared expressions spoke volumes about how you each felt. Even if the long-awaited reveal wasn’t as glamorous or earth-shattering as you’d hoped, or even if it led to no fantastical future outcome for you, you would at least be glad enough to get it off your chest where it had simmered for the past few years. “I think you and I both know what it is going to be.”

It was your declaration of love; the best you could provide with what you had on you, for both now and the foreseeable future. Such declarations were normally more extravagant for a noblepony, but come now. Were you really the noblepony you thought you were, or just a guy who happened to be in possession of an ocean’s worth of wealth? Buck the title, whatever it meant right now. You had to do this, and some special name with meaningless, fancy lacing wasn’t going to help you be yourself. Fleur remained silent, but content, inwardly reveling in the existence of your reciprocal bonding. Just for a bit of fun, you made quick use of the quiet atmosphere for a bit of teasing to seal the deal. “Or do you have something else in mind? I’m all ears.” You smirk.

Fleur rolled her eyes at that, bopping your nose with her hoof and a giggle before spiritedly closing the distance between your lips, where you and she remain for many sensational minutes. You were hesitant to even consider leaving her tonight, let alone break away from such a wonderful pair of lips, but your need to breath overcame your better wishes, and you slowly slid away. She remained clinging to you, her hooves hanging relaxingly onto your shoulders as she caught her breath. You continued to inch away, yet she continued to cling, rubbing her hooves into your shoulders now to convince you to stay. You chuckled and complied with an idle shrug, then reminded yourself of something particularly peculiar that still remained a mystery to you, and you were dying to know what it was.

“You know, Fleur...” You start off softly, catching the attention of the mare’s half-lidded eyes and perky white ears. “The servant that gave me my raffle ticket mentioned a...second prize. One not even known to him or anypony else.”

“Mhmm?” Fleur lifted an eyebrow.

“I assume you are behind that as well?”

The mare glanced around the room for several moments, searching for something; a sign, a tell. You couldn’t deduce it for yourself, whatever it was. It was most likely symbolic. Whatever it was, she found it before you could even ask, sighing peacefully and giving you a small nod. She rose to her hooves and took a step past you, craning then lowering her head and neck to whisper in a rather...interestingly erotic tone. “It was originally my ‘Plan B’ in case I couldn’t convince you to come with me, but...I think you deserve it anyway. It’s the least I could do, and, besides...” She breathed another sigh. “A loving mare needs to be satisfied. Five minutes. Up the stairs, left corridor, final room at the end. I’ll be waiting, mon amour~...”

A final, stunning kiss to the cheek and she was out of the room, leaving you, in many more ways than one, dumbfounded. She couldn’t have been poking fun there. There was just no way. She was truly serious.

Could you? Would you? You never expected this to happen at all tonight, even with all the tells; the way she moved, the way she spoke, and that devilishly sexy tone in her voice. You weren’t angry. No, quite the opposite, but you were almost certain she was in heat or something. What would your family think? Would the word get out somehow, spreading like the wildfire that was gossip to all corners of the world ala information brokering? Could all of this be too good to be true?

Buck it. Traditions and ethics of nobility be damned. Though she may have been little more than an admired friend to you over an hour ago, it would have been a disservice to both of you to pass up her offer in the name of social purity.

This night, you were no noblepony. You felt more than happy throwing away that proverbial cynical bowtie explaining who or what was above and below you. This night, you were just a normal stallion on a quest to please the mare you loved by any means necessary, and if it meant risking a leap into irrationality worthy of the “interests” of your peers in the elite then so be it!

Five minutes, up the stairs, and down the left corridor led you to the final room. The door was cracked, a soft glow exuding from within. You bundle your thoughts and gather your courage before pushing it open, standing there, breathless, and beholding the display in front of you. You put your game face on. It was time.

Ch. 2 (NSFW)

The door was closed.

“You’re late, mon amour.”

“Fashionably.” You replied through a teasing simper, intent on being as playful as possible with the Prench mare splayed across the king-sized bed. Seeing her now, you felt like a completely different stallion than what you were earlier that day. A cocktail of intense hormones would soon be surging through you like floodwaters. Every gland in your body wanted to enjoy this. You slid off your dress coat and bow tie, leaving you bared. The room was filled with a sweet, heavenly aroma; perfume, and a strong one, almost narcotic in nature, and given the average noblepony’s array of skeletons in closets you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the exact truth. It inebriated you as strongly as her very presence. The lights were dimmed and candles lit in their places, but you couldn’t care less about the scenery, so long as your prize lay before you. You upwardly craned your head and neck, getting a nice, long look at her exquisite set of features, of which she was more than happy to roll over for and present to you.

“Like what you see?” Fleur asked with eyes half-lidded. Goddesses, you clearly haven’t appreciated her voice enough before. Hearing her speak so sumptuously made your skin crawl feverishly, and just to punctuate it, she rolled onto her side and just barely lifted her hind leg. Try as you might, you couldn’t catch even a glimpse of the golden gates that lay beneath its veil, and she loved it. She overtly craved the attention, giggling fiendishly and staring daggers into your eyes with that sort of fierce, carnal lust found only in the most tipsy of love-drunk mares, but that wasn’t all. She had donned a full set of exquisite lingerie; lavender stockings and panties, with pink laces and frills rounding her every curve and corner. Seeing her with clothes on as opposed to off was perhaps her cruelest tease so far.

Yet you persisted in your goal, again and again trying and failing to sneak a peek at what was obviously her barely concealed marehood. She might as well be wearing a few strands of string for all the good (or bad) it did. Still, she would not allow it, and a never ending stream of giggles flowed from her thin white lips the longer your fruitless endeavour continued.

“Nonono, monsieur.” The mare shook her head, lowering her hind leg, much to your burning chagrin. You gave a disappointed grunt, doing your best to make it sound amusing when it was in fact genuine. You could feel your whole rib cage trembling in anticipation. A little less restraint and your knees would have been shaking like trees in the middle of an earthquake. “Did you think it would be that easy? Now, a self-respecting stallion wouldn’t just leap right into it, yes?”

So far she had rendered you speechless. Your tail excitedly swept the air from left to right and swirled more of her perfume towards your awaiting nostrils. You answered her question not with words, but rather a flirtatiously expectant look. “Oh really?” was what you were silently transmitting. A statement had to be made. This was no ordinary outing for you, and as such, you were certainly no ordinary stallion this evening. She was clearly starting to toy with you, and as well as it did to heat things up you weren’t about to resign yourself to a subservient role. No, that was how the real fun began. Soon enough, she was giving you that same stare.

“Fine.” She spoke, breaking the silence between you, her lips pursing into a tiny smile. The blankets beneath her rustled and shifted as the mare began to roll over at an agonizingly slow speed. keeping her head turned away from you as she did. Oh Luna, couldn’t she go any faster? She meant to torture you, meant to keep you guessing, giving you nothing and keeping from you everything. You were half tempted to pounce on her and assume control yourself, but your stiff morals kept your lewder thoughts at bay, alongside a fear of ruining whatever surprises she had in store for you.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, on par with watching a glacier melt, Fleur had settled on her position of choice: head down, rump up. How vulnerable of her. It was still hard to believe this was happening. It was almost too much. Her cheeks looked more perky than rounded from this view, but it was impossible to complain. You wouldn’t dare think of a single grievance after everything this mare had given you. She looked prepared already, yet she still had the nerve to keep the goods well hidden using her long, sinuous tail, which she bent beneath herself, keeping her already barely-clad, but still exposed rump in view.

“Go ahead, baby.” Did she really just say that? “It’s all yours.” She passionately voiced as she lifted her head up and off to the side, looking back at you with a peculiar twinkle in her eye. She couldn’t have been screaming “there’s a caveat to this” any louder with this even if she tried. You knew her too well. This just had to be going somewhere else, and you knew that like the back of your own hoof. Yet, what if it wasn’t? No, that would be foolish of you to think; turned on you may be, but a hapless sexual brute you were not. You stood your ground, staring her down with a smarmy grin. You both knew she was hiding something, and she knew that you knew, but wasn’t about to let you wordlessly call her out on it.

Her grin turned a little coy before she moved to do the unexpected, hiking her tail up and gripping the lacing of her panties with her magic before slowly but surely tugging them down, down, down...then stopping, leaving them still on, but only about a third of the way. Though it was only a hair above convincing, it was more than enough to tell you that Fleur knew her way around torturing an audience while still keeping them enduringly hooked. Moreso, she kept her tail hiked up, and you were undeniably sure of yourself that you could make out a certain little, puckered hole it was meant to keep permanently veiled, until now that is. “You know you want to.”

Of that you were wholly certain. Perhaps you knew better than to fall for whatever deception she had planned, but you also knew that you couldn’t just ignore your own desires, nor hers, lest they both turn stale as minutes of doing nothing float on by. Besides...your chub down below was starting to deflate, your sheath having expanded and opened only just. Couldn’t have that happening, right? You began your approach to her, preparing yourself for whatever curve balls she was ready to throw at you. She continued to stare into your eyes, innocent, without illusion, but you weren’t about to fall for that trick. Soon, you reached her awaiting, shapely rear. It was so much bigger up close too. It vied for attention from more than one part of you. The mare it belonged to gave it a fun little shake. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You nodded, but a stubborn part of you remained skeptical that she was bound to pull something the moment you reached for those luscious cheeks of hers. Your brain wasn’t an expert on the behavior of mares, and neither were you. Every moment you spent waiting slowly tore at your sanity. Her scent was absolutely intoxicating, and it didn’t take long to realize that it wasn’t just her perfume. A single deep whiff and...nnnfff~...There could be no more waiting. Your bodies beckoned to be unified. You quickly settled on just going for it, and you rose onto your hind legs, your hooves making contact with both of her flanks not a second later. A pair of pearly whites broke through your smile.

It wasn’t a trick at all.

“See?”

You chuckled, giving her beautiful cheeks a daring squeeze, forcing a soft moan from her.

“I told you it was yours, and it will always be yours if you give me what I want.”

Indeed it was, and you were more than hell-bent on making the most of your new toy.

Toy?

Now there was a new way to spice things up a bit, and not in a particularly flattering way either. It sounded like your darker side wanted to come out and play, and Fleur was in for the same, given the ferocious look in her eyes. Everypony, especially every noblepony, had one. Goddesses, the absolutely filthy secrets and scandals society’s rich and elite kept behind closed doors could fill a century’s worth of newspaper parchment. You could feel your sheath retreat even more to make way for the real meat just thinking about it, all those sex scandals and otherworldly fetishes. You were going to love being a part of it. Your mind still flowed with the energy of surreal exhilaration, leaving you nearly bursting at the seams with the potential for all manner of ways you could play with your new toy.

Fleur’s rump was well toned. There was no better place to start. All that dieting, skillful exercise, and heart-stealing runway strutting really paid off for her, but it was still just loose enough to make it lush and soft, like the perfect pillow. The tips of your hooves traced circles around her flanks and cutie marks, sending intense shivers down the mare’s spine. She turned her head away to stretch out whatever discomfort was in her neck, leaving her vulnerable to a swift and resounding smack to her right flank. She lurched forward and let loose a shriek that was more out of astonishment than stimulation. It was shrill enough to make you believe that you had hurt her, but when she lifted her head again, craning it around to glare menacingly at you, the lusty inferno in her eyes made her next words all the more enthralling.

“G-Goddesses! You brute. Nnn! Again, mon amour, again!”

Her voice quickly recessed into a low, downright horny moan that surprised you more than anything thus far. She wasn’t just compelling you do it; she would be out for blood if you didn’t, and you certainly weren’t anypony to deny her.

Smack! Smack! You reddened her perfect skin and coat with every swing, making it ripple, and making her yelp again and again, louder and harder until her voice started to crack. Her moans belt fed your strong inner stallion who begged for release, but any stallion, even a “brute” such as you, would know how best to please a mare. For as much as she seemed to be enjoying the rough treatment, what you were doing to her simply had to sting like nothing else. You started easing up on your rhythm, and took several breaks to apply some quick aftercare. You would caress her flank in smooth circular motions, smack it, squeeze it, then caress it again deeply to alleviate the biting pain. Fleur quickly took a liking to your varied ministrations, and her catlike purring just rolled right off her tongue. It wasn’t the only thing that was rolling either. With each new spanking, she would rhythmically arch her back and rear in slow, sinuous motions, getting as much of her rump in your face as possible; all the more to rile you up with.

You couldn’t tell how long you were going at this, but by the time you regained some of your senses a thin sheen of sweat had accumulated on her now lightly matted coat like dew, and it more than succeeded in making her smell even more heavenly to your hormone-fueled mind. You also seemed to have forgotten all about your...not-so-little friend down below. It ached the moment you looked, letting you know just how impatient it really was and dripping its fluids onto the floor, longing for attention. You thought about quickly answering its painful clarion call and gripped the lacing of Fleur’s panties, eager to yank them all the way down, to expose her every glistening inch of skin, and get straight to clopping until your weeks’ worth of a load painted her backside a new coat of white, but a swift refocusing of your priorities took precedence over your bestial desire for a quick and easy release. You had so far reduced this noblepony, this gem of a mare, this goddess to a moaning, groaning, shivering, writhing mass of musk-laden fur, and all from a few rounds of spanking: the sexiest embarrassment to nobility alive. You were definitely getting to know her better, and could do so much more. You were far from finished, and neither was she.

As such, you kicked it up a notch, determined to virtually dominate her shaking white tush. With the lacing of her panties already in hoof, you heaved them straight up and over her lower back so that it only covered her most private, and most valuable, parts and exposing her entire rump to your awaiting touch, slipping the rest of the fabric in between her ballooned cheeks. Fleur’s neck and head arched forward, as though her mane was being yanked back, before she then let loose such a fiercely deafening howl that it was almost impossible to tell whether it was of pain or pleasure. Her knees gave out immediately under their own intense quaking, landing her rump flat on the bed and jutting her hind legs out to the side. You chuckled heartily, impressed with your almost too-cruel of a move, but did Fleur hate you for it? Absolutely not. Soon enough, her head was back up and her gaze fixed on you again with a grin so alluringly feral it could make even the most stoic royal guard splooge in their armor. You glanced down at her oddly coincidental position, where the space beneath her rear was growing darker and damper by the second, showing just how well-loved your actions have been to the mare thus far.

“‘Did I think it would be that easy?’” You speak mockingly, leaning down and dappling several kisses and licks over her reddened, sweat covered cheeks. “Hmm...maybe. Maybe I did.”

“This...nnn...isn’t over yet, mon amour.” Fleur panted, her steamy breaths glistening in the dank air. As her haggard breathing continued, she positioned herself once more, finding the strength to resist her shaking and hike her rear and tail up again. Another strained, but softer howl, more like a mewl, left her lips as she magically pulled her panties taut again over her back. Awestruck, you watched as several thin, silvery trails of liquid ran down the inside of her legs and hocks. She was literally, and quite unbelievably, squeezing her noble juices from her leaking foal-maker. Sweet Celestia, you could barely believe this mare was real, and that you were here, in her bedroom, watching her intrinsically reveal a side of herself that had been begging to be set free for years. All the lewd and wet squishing and schlicking she made nearly made your brain melt right out through your ears. You almost felt the need to slap yourself, see if you were really awake!

A quick testing of the thought proved that you couldn’t do it even if you wanted to. She had magically adhered your hooves to the floor, forcing you and your throbbing length below to bear witness to her wanton act. It was insane! You weren’t even spared the freedom of one hoof to grip onto your now fully-emerged phallus, not to start tugging away, but purely to calm it down. It ached so much it was painful, and it showed. With every new throb, your face would contort a little and your teeth would gnash together, muffling your every troubled grunt and groan. After a time, Fleur began to show her worry and hesitantly ceased her grade-A obscenity. She slid off the bed and stood to attention in front of you with a caring look in her eyes, one more genuine than you’ve seen in most nobleponies.

“Too much?” asked Fleur with a tender smile, cocking her head a bit as she laid her pillowy hooves on your shoulders. “Granted, I was having such fun.” In a way, you could feel a small part of what made you a stallion slip away as a result. In essence, it reminded you of just how ongoing the competitiveness between nobleponies really was. By the time you reached your father’s level in the social hierarchy the questions asked and answered by every noblepony, all the time, were as deeply ingrained in your memory as knowing how to speak: who had the bigger home, the greater wealth, the more assets, and so on. Everypony, even you were, mindlessly, predators. It was so common in the upper echelon of society that you had unknowingly carried it into the bedroom with you, determined to come out on top in one way or another.

But Fleur didn’t seem like that at all. This lady of the evening liked it both ways; rough and soft, caring more for the enjoyment of both parties than one. She unbound your hooves and pressed herself against you, running her forehooves up and down your toned chest. You are quick to put on a smile and embrace her in turn. The painful throbbing had all but vanished as your senses were rewardingly satisfied by how close you were to her at long last. Her musk was even stronger up close. The two of you breathed in each other’s warm, moist scent and just generally basked in it in silence for the next several minutes. It was a welcome way to tone things down a bit before either one of you became just a little more turned on than the other. With a mare as skilled as Fleur, you weren’t sure if you were ready for all that she had to offer, especially when she reached her peak.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you speak, trailing your hooves down her slick back. “I’ve just never seen anything like it. Like you.” She began to purr again, and snugly tucked her head beneath your chin. It was an endearingly comfortable arrangement, and you just so happened to notice that her horn was nearby. If a unicorn’s horn was as sensitive as they say... “Eh, couldn’t hurt to try” was what you thought to yourself before tightening your grip on the mare’s midsection and dragging a long, slow lick up its surface. The mare breathed a deep sigh through her nose and wiggled herself into a better position beneath you, eager to receive your lovable treatment. You'd learned that a unicorn treasured their horn more than most things in the world, but Fleur was more approving of your patronage than you had thought, so why stop there? You bathed it in your saliva, from its coarse base up to its porcelain-esque upper half. It was pointed near the tip, but you were careful as you slipped your tongue and teeth around it, nibbling on it like a piece of hard, savory candy.

Her breathy moans and shuddering stints were unending. She couldn’t help but instinctively surprise you with a few arcane shocks, which zapped you repeatedly as they spiraled up her horn. You could taste her magic, if that was a thing, and so you continued to suckle lovingly, at least until Fleur decided she had enough. She pawed at your chest, mewling for you to stop. Her horn slipped free from your lips, but not without a parting kiss.

“Ooooo...Mon amour...” Fleur stammered while righting her stance. She had yet to stop moaning. To say you felt a little proud might as well have been your biggest understatement of the year. “A moment, please...”

“I was just trying to show my girl a good time.” You spoke confidently, leaning your head down and nuzzling her cheeks as she rose. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“‘Your girl’, hmm?” Fleur spoke with coquettish giggle, the winds of another breathy moan flowing over your face following her words.

You chuckled as she nuzzled you back, and with the gaze she fixed on you awaiting a proper answer. “My mare.”

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“...’my lady’. There, happy?”

She mulled it over in her head for a few moments before giggling again, shrugging it off. “I also would have accepted ‘mon amour’, sir.” Wasn’t she a riot? “Well, sir, if I am your lady, don’t you think you’ve made me wait long enough for my main course?”

Your member, which had remained defiantly strong and inflated, twitched and throbbed in total agreement with her. You were just about to lead her to the bed when the sounds of her grunting suddenly caught you off guard. Looking down, you couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, except the fact that her horn was glowing, and that it was levitating her removed, soaked panties into the air. You were a split-second too late in seeing and realizing what she was up to before it was forcefully thrown onto your face like a wet towel, blinding you and your every sense. Her essence-laden underwear smelled nearly as tantalizing as her matted and musky fur, but it was her flavor of arousal as a result of a quick tongue tasting that really caught your attention. It was sweet, yet noticeably tangy. It certainly wasn’t the weirdest part of your night, but you couldn’t help letting your brain pair it up with one of the few things it recognized: blueberries. You flicked your tongue, tasting it again. Yup, definitely blueberries.

“Enjoy that?” Fleur purred out in a tone of spirited lovelust as you removed the panties from your face and held them in your hooves like they were the crown jewels. You were having a hard time answering her as you continued to try and make sense of what just occurred, and those voracious bedroom eyes she gave you from her new position on the bed weren’t helping.

“Well, I...”

“Shhh...” Fleur hissed, her eyelashes fluttering. “Keep them. A gift, from me to you. You’d best not lose them either. Those are of my finest silks.”

You grew an amused smirk. “You say these things as if I were leaving.”

“How silly of you to think that. You are not leaving without my say-so.” The mare spoke in what you could only describe as the most lustful and needy growl you have ever heard, like a dog deep in estrus, and just like one she had went to every length to see to it that you were ready and raring to pound her into the dirt with unbridled enthusiasm. She laid flat on her back and spread her legs wide, revealing the entrance to her million-bit marehood. It was every bit as beautiful as you had imagined. “Take me.”

“With pleasure, but...” you paused, a question snapping at the tip of your tongue at the last second. “Are you sure we should be doing this without—?”

“I took the pill before you walked in.”

There was the answer you were glad to hear. With not another moment to lose, you climb onto the bed and over her warm body, lying atop her damp underbelly and squarely gripping her sides. A few moments of shifting later and you were perfectly lined up with her puffy, dripping folds. “Are you ready?” You murmured. This was it, your finest hour. You were about to make love with Fleur de Lis, the mare that had been a very good friend to you for years. That proverbial wall of covert admiration for one another was about to come tumbling down, and you wielded the hammer that would deliver the final blow. She nodded, you nodded back, and you were inhumed in her with a single, powerful thrust.

You had buried yourself within her nearly to the hilt, and Fleur let out a short, unprepared yelp. Her whole body tensed, and her face scrunched up in a plethora of intense feelings. You weren’t quite focused on how she reacted, but more on the blissful sensations that enveloped your stallionhood. It was slick and wet, like a living sponge that never ceased in secreting its otherworldly fluids. It was warm, like the baby oven it truly was. Yet the third feeling, the most pronounced of them all, was by far the best you’ve ever experienced: her tightness. With every beat of her heart, her mushy tunnel gripped your phallus as if it meant to squeeze it dry in a tube of silken flesh. Her panties were nice and all, but this was really her finest silk.

Though she was loose enough for your initial push, you knew it would take a few minutes to get settled in. The only movement that came from her aside from breathing was that of her marehood, and how it squeezed and hugged its welcome occupant like two lovers cuddling in bed. Hundreds of individual, tiny muscles shifted and snaked around you. It was an incredible feeling to picture it in your head. Though only a minute had went by, but you felt brave enough to test her resilience early. The heat was getting to you, and you mindlessly drew back and forced yourself in deeper, not only re-experiencing her tunnel’s sudden crushing grip, but forcing an uncomfortable-sounding yowl from Fleur.

“Ack! Stop, s-stop! Please...” She stammered in a weak and croaking voice. She wasn’t exactly what you’d call relaxed. Even her face looked flushed despite her coat being off-white. Her forehooves shakily reached up and around your neck, hooking onto each other before going limp. “Hnaahh...My...I wasn’t expecting you to be so...girthy...or big.” The mare let out a raspy chuckle as she leaned her head back, shivering as her inner walls instinctively squeezed you repeatedly.

You were perfectly fine with waiting on her to get comfortable, but a rather jarring thought came upon you. Here you were, buried to your base in the most beautiful supermodel in all of Equestria, and only now did it occur to you that you had yet to share a kiss worthy of mating with her. The one back in the parlor was great, sure, but you’ve so far done more to a mare in a night than you have ever done in your whole life. A relationship such as this could do with a round or two of practically eating out each other’s mouths.

Thankfully, Fleur had the idea long before you did. When you leaned down to coax her in, her eyes narrowed, snapping her head up and mashing her lips against yours. It stayed simple at first, lips against lips, but after a while the mare beneath you demanded entrance into your mouth. Then again, so did you. You attempt to lash your tongue forward past her lips and catch her off guard, but she was leagues faster and pushed you back, and it wasn’t long before you had a tongue war on your hooves. Fortunately, you had the advantage of gravity and a naturally bigger tongue, but neither of those factors proved to be a challenge for her. She won in the end with her dexterity and quick thinking, and maybe some past experience—she was certainly no amateur. The mare took her sweet time in exploring your mouth, letting her slender tongue run over every surface within reach. You let out a defeated, sarcastic groan as she worked, but you had no complaints. There was always next time.

The kiss broke after she pulled out and traced your lips, the both of you panting as you stared into her faintly gleaming eyes. Your steamy breaths washed over each other’s faces before the stare was soon broken by her hearty laughter. “Good effort, mon amour, good effort.”

You rolled your eyes with a dismissive shake of the head. “You just got lucky.” You evened out your position and was rewarded with another moan from her as your member stirred her insides. When your attention returned to her, all the libido that was previously there libido reemerged in her piercing gaze.

“Now, where were we?” she asked, lowering her head onto the bed again and pulling yours down with it. She rolled her rump left and right, testing her own looseness with all the gleefulness of a young mare. With her help, you were now the perfect fit. “Go.” You nodded determinedly, ready for action. You slowly pulled your soaked crotch away from hers, your member nearly leaving her stretched marehood completely, before ramming it back in. She gasped and educed a fervid moan while you groaned at the ruggedness of feeling her clamp down on you yet again, but you were only getting started.

Your actions were relentless. Thrust after earth-shaking thrust, you hollowed her out. Each time you pulled out, you gave her just long enough to glance down at your twitching log of prime stallion meat, coated from the base on down in a sheen of her shimmering essence before slamming it right back in, the fierce, wet slaps it produced echoing through the air like a clap of thunder. Your hips were giving it their all and then some, and every last inch of you relayed senses to your brain unlike any other. You could feel everything now—the blood pumping through your veins, every twitch of your nerves, and everything in between. It was so unreal you thought you were going mad.

As were you, Fleur was having the time of her life. Her every moan was prolonging and riddled with quaking breaths. Endearingly sticky juices flowed from her precious, nigh sacred marehood like a river, completely wetting the sheets beneath you. Every sound she made was a symphony in itself. Sweat soon began to line her forehead as the air between you grew hot and humid from each other’s balmy breath, all of which only seasoned the pea soup mix of musk that hung over the room like a thick cloud. The feeling of hearing her moaning out your name, again and again, groaning in an unequaled state of liquid bliss, was one you would never forget.

Already you started to feel the signs of your impending climax, gnashing your teeth together in intense protest as a shudder wracked your form and forced a single, large spurt of fluids from the widening tip of your member. You internally swore at your senses and angrily shouted them down, but the help it provided became miniscule in value once that particular spurt had been churned around inside her enough, providing only more endlessly pleasing lubrication. Your member slid in and out of her like it was on ice, your crotches slamming together even harder and resulting in more powerful, vulgar moans from her.

You thought about slowing down, as it was doing anything but preventing you from releasing too early, but Fleur, reading the confliction on your face, threw a dirty, irritated sneer at you. Her hooves locked tightly around your neck and yanked you down to her level. “Don’t you dare slow down!” She growled bestially through her locked set of teeth, then, all the euphoria that had drained from her face reappeared with more of her lustful purring and nuzzles to your flushed cheeks. You were still going, even while she threatened you with her bleeding-edge stare and a set of teeth itching to bite your head off. She was needier than you thought. “Please, mon amour. I need it.”

She relieved her grip on your noggin before resigning to letting you take over again. The good news was that you got to keep your head, but the even better news was that you now knew what she wanted and exactly how she wanted it. Where you went hard with the spankings, then soft with the hornjob, the arrow was now back on the rough setting. You could feel it, feel the subtleties your body was sending you; you were nearly at your breaking point and, from what you could tell, so was she.

With a new goal for which to strive towards, you firmly held your stance, exchanging smutty looks with the mare you loved, then kicked your keister into overdrive. Where you were relentless before you were now next to nigh unstoppable, virtually jackhammering your member into her thoroughly-worn tunnel with all the herculean vigor you could muster. You must have done something right, as Fleur let out an almost animalistic howl.

This was it. The two of you transitioned into the final stage of your intercourse with a blazing inferno in your hearts. Both of you became more feral than civilized in your last moments, what few words being spoken only translating into haggard huffs, pants, whines, and moans. Even your tongue was hanging out. It was inevitable, but your attempts to maintain control had all but completely failed. Against your better wishes, you drastically lowered your speed and perpetuated your final few, tired thrusts for as long as you could before soaring over the edge, embedding your member in as deep as you could go, practically kissing her cervix with its flared head, and unleashing all that you had into her deepest depths with a groan so labored that it made your throat sore.

Fleur’s marehood was sent into a frenzied flurry of convulsions the moment your release struck. Its last ounces of strength were used to grip you with a merciless level of numbing tightness as her orgasm slammed into her like a tidal wave, the deluge of juices she output flowing with all the intensity of liquid fire on your sensitive shaft. Her head and neck arched upward, and with her mouth stretched wide open did she release one of the loudest, most fascinating groans you’d ever heard. Several hot, breathy gasps followed that gradually descended into her shakiest moans yet. Her eyes had ballooned to the size of dinner plates with an equal mixture of shock and awe. Though her abdominal strength was impressive to say the least, it had to give in sometime. Its fruitless attempts to keep every last drop of your milky seed within her failed as your member began to deflate, still nestled comfortably within.

Time slowed to a crawl; even an aimless speck of dust fell at a snail’s pace. Multiple realizations were hitting you without remorse, but your only recourse after coming down from such a euphoric high was to let your knees give out and settle you atop your nearly passed out sweetheart. The rough stench of sex was thick in the air, a single deep whiff of it making you shudder with nearly all the intensity of a second climax. There was nothing that mattered more to you now than this moment of overwhelming felicity.

“Fleur?” You quietly murmur, swallowing a mouthful of saliva to relieve the burning of your sore throat. Aside from her heavy breathing, she wasn’t moving, but her eyes were, which rolled over to meet yours in a half-lidded gaze. A smile soon replaced her respiring astonishment. “I think I can...’take some time off’ to settle a few ‘personal matters’.” You inch your head up to her closest cheek and speckle it with several kisses before reaching up to her ear to do the same, whispering. “Very personal matters.”

“I-I...I’d love that, mon amour. I’d love that.”

Author's Note

Well...a clopfic. How did this get here?

Some of my older followers (the ones that are still alive, that is) may be wondering what I'm doing writing a story like this all of a sudden and not working on my 2-3 other incomplete stories.

Simply put, I just wanted to write something new. It's been nearly two years since I had to recall myself back to the realities of a job and more schooling, and I have since left those stories on an indefinite hiatus. Now that things have calmed down a bit, I wanted to put something new out rather than update an existing story, mostly so I could stretch my atrophied writing muscles and see how well my quality has stood up. I've never delved into the realm of clopfic writing before, but I had plenty of ideas for one, and had a few friends who were surprisingly eager to see me write one/give tips for it, so I gave it a shot. Did it really need a back story? Probably not, but I wrote one anyway.

I tried writing this chapter as carefully as possible for two reasons: 1.) So the people who came here purely for the smut wouldn't need to read the story for sake of context. 2.) To separate the quality of writing of each and see how well the mature and non-mature sections hold up on their own.

Let me know what you think!