The audience tapped their hooves lightly against the maple floorboards of the theatre as Octavia’s bow drew out the last high-pitched screams from the strings on her instrument. She opened her eyes and gazed upon the many ponies before her, the very elite of Canterlot’s society. Some of them seemed overjoyed with the performance, but the majority remained stoic, their faces bearing the mock image of what the snobs of Canterlot’s elite were really about. The gray earth pony stifled a grumble and proceeded to bow, abhorring the gesture that told them the much dreaded truth; that she was there for their entertainment.
As shameful as it was for her, she couldn’t help but smile warmly as she watched a small unicorn filly gallop forward, nearing the stage before throwing a beautiful crimson rose at her hooves. The smile was a short lived one though, for the filly’s mother came rushing behind her and dragged the little one along with her. Octavia saw as the mare’s lips blurted out angry words at her filly, probably a scolding about what the mom thought to be such an uncouth display. The gray musical mare tried her best not to glare at the filly’s mother, only able to breathe a relieved sigh when the red curtains fell, something that seemed to take too long.
Octavia’s mind engaged in a semi-automatic mode as she quickly but carefully placed her wooden contrabass on its case. She closed the leather lid and strapped the large instrument by the case’s belt on her back and trotted backstage without giving a single glance towards the other musicians still on the stage. She knew that all of them were exactly like the majority of her audience; snob and shallow. Her trotting only came to a stop once she neared her chaufféur, Kovaks Chrome, who was quick to get rid of the cigarette he was smoking with a swift flick of his forehoof.
The thought that he was doing something impolite — smoking indoors — never crossed her mind. In her anxious state, the mare just raised her eyes to the silver coated unicorn before her, wanting to ask him to take her to the hotel, but she stopped when she acknowledged that the stallion was looking back at her quizzically, raising his left eyebrow.
“Everything okay, Madam?” he asked politely.
“Yes, I’m fine, Kovaks. Just... take me to the hotel. I can’t stand this place any longer,” she said rather quickly, looking behind herself and trying to be sure that nopony was on the lookout for her. ‘The quicker I can get away from these ponies the better!’
“As you wish.” The blonde unicorn nodded curtly, ensuring Octavia that he wouldn’t pry. The mare followed him as he lead her through the backdoors of the theatre and took his offered hoof as she climbed the pair of steps that led her to the interior of her chariot. Kovaks bowed as the mare climbed those steps and closed the door after she was comfortably seated inside, next to her saddlebags. He walked around to the front of the chariot and began to push it towards its destination.
o0~{CM}~0o
The chariot came to a stop just outside the Flup Dohlein, the beautiful four-star hotel that Octavia was now a guest on. She waited for Kovaks to open the door to her and offer his hoof before walking outside.
“Mr. Chrome-”
“Please, Madam, call me Kovaks,” the silvery stallion offered.
“Kovaks... would you be so kind as to take my instrument and my saddlebags upstairs once you’re done parking?” she asked, mesmerized by the marvellous and grand entry archway of the hotel. “It’s been a rather long night and I’m feeling very tired.”
“As you wish, Madam.” He bowed once more and closed the door behind her before walking around the chariot. Octavia slowly walked towards the hotel’s entrance, feeling the chilly breeze of Canterlot’s winter ruffling against her coat. It brought pleasant shivers that coursed through her legs; she was always fond of the cold seasons. A polite ivory unicorn suited in red magically opened the door for her, closing his eyes and bowing to her.
‘What is it with everypony in this city and bowing?’ she thought as she crossed the arch that lead her to the interior of Flup Dohlein. The walls of the entry hall were painted with a yellowish hue and all the lamps on the hall shone an intense orange, making the entire ambient seem like it was bathed in gold. Red tapestries and curtains stretched from the floor and the windows respectively, giving the guests the feel of grandeur, as if all of them would be treated like kings inside these doors.
‘Not even the Princesses’ palace has such extravagant décor.’ she thought as she walked toward the reception. To her, it all seemed very morbid; the dim glow of the lights bathing the entire hall gave the ponies inside a sickly appearance and the low glowing lights made her eyes sore. She approached the receptionist’s desk and acknowledged that the mare behind it was brimming with glee, probably because she recognized the musical pony that walked towards her. Her eyes widened as Octavia laid her two forehooves on the desk and opened her mouth. The green unicorn began talking, completely unaware that Octavia was formulating her own sentence before she cut her short.
“Ah, Miss-”
“Octavia, yes.” It was her time to trample over the mare’s words even before she could pronounce her last name, seeing that the gray pony was unwilling to prolong any sort of idle chat the mare might have conjured on her mind. “I have a room reserved. Fifth floor, if I’m not mistaken.”
The mare behind the reception bowed in understanding as her ears flopped down, much to Octavia’s dismay. “Of course. Here is the key,” she said as a copper key enveloped by a radiant blue aura neared the gray pony before being dropped on her hooves. “I’m deeply sorry if I was of any inconvenience, Miss.”
Octavia mentally sighed for acting in such rude way towards the mare. Deciding to at least try and set things right, she smiled weakly at the receptionist, something that seemed to brighten up the red-donned unicorn’s spirit a little. The receptionist gave her an understanding nod and smiled back, something that alleviated a little the invisible weight that had been constantly oppressing the musical pony’s shoulders and back.
She picked the key from her forehooves with her teeth and proceeded to the stairs of the hotel. Her hooves clopped against the marble steps of the stairs as she slowly ascended the stories of the hotel. Upon reaching the fifth floor, Octavia walked to her room and opened the door, instantly crossing the gate and shutting it behind her. Finding herself alone for the first time in days, she inhaled deeply and sighed, all she needed to alleviate her stress was a nice warm bubble bath in the hotel’s tub.
She trotted towards the bathroom and quickly turned the faucets, mixing the cold water with the hot one until the resulting crystal clear liquid that slowly filled the tub was at a perfect temperature. She grabbed a few of the hotel’s towels and waited patiently for the marble tub to fill up. Minutes passed by in total silence as the mare was deep in her thoughts. Through the many things that crossed her mind, one thing in particular stuck.
‘Where the hay is Kovaks with my contrabass?!’
As if destiny itself had read her thoughts and had decided to act, she heard a knock on the door. Leaving the large bathroom behind, Octavia used the key and opened the door, expecting Kovaks to drop off her instrument and go to his own room, prompting her to elicit a surprised gasp when she saw one of the hotel’s many servants, donned in the customary red jacket, staring blankly at her.
“Yes... ?” she reluctantly asked, hiding behind the ivory wooden door.
“A thousand apologies, Miss Octavia,” the pony said and bowed to her, prompting the mare to roll her eyes. “But there is a stallion downstairs that claims to be with you.”
“Yes, that is probably Kovaks. Why is he downstairs? He is supposed to deliver my instrument to this room,” she said, sounding a bit confused and intrigued at the same time.
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s just that...” the pony trailed off, rubbing the back of his foreleg with a hoof. “It’s the hotel’s policy towards our very esteemed guests.” He punctuated that word, insinuating that Octavia was something more to the hotel than just a walking and talking pile of money. “We were not sure if his arguments were of any truth.”
“Well, now that you know who he is, could you please send him up?” She nearly grumbled, anxious to get on with her relaxing bath and finally be able to forget the day.
“Right away, Miss.” The unicorn bowed and turned, walking down the hallway towards the stairs. Octavia stuck her tongue out the moment he turned around and began to make goofy faces at him. She giggled on the inside; sometimes she felt that it was necessary to relieve the tension in childish ways. Her glee came to an end, however, as she heard a splashing sound behind her. Grumbling something about goddesses and sense of humor, Octavia hastily closed her door, galloping towards the catastrophe. She sighed in dismay when she saw the water still coming out from the golden tap even though the tub was already full, spilling the excedent all over the floor.
“Oh, for the love of Pete!” she exclaimed brazenly and began to stomp both her forehooves on the floor in a childish display of anger. Water splashed all around the bathroom, making all the available towels damp along with the walls, the vanity mirror and herself. She thrashed about on the floor, caring little for the water that continued to pour from out of the tub until she heard a knock on the door.
“The door is open, Kovaks!” she said, trying her best to remain calm.
“Sorry for the delay, Madam, it’s just-”
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” she said harshly, caring only for the safety of her precious instrument. “Just, please, put the contrabass on the floor next to one of the bedrooms. Gently. And leave. I’m having a bad day!” The silver stallion stared at her for a fleeting second before slowly nodding. He walked towards a couch on the living room, gently placing the black leathery case on top of it as he thought that it would be a more proper place for it than the floor, where he deposited her saddlebags. He turned around and walked to the door but stopped abruptly before he left the room. His ears instantly fell and he slowly turned to face the grumbling earth pony.
“Ugh... Madam Octavia?”
“Yes?” she sharply asked after breathing a loud, weary sigh.
“I- I... I don’t have a room to stay for night...” he muttered dejectedly before grimacing like a foal who knew that a reprimand from his mother was soon to follow.
It took Octavia a few seconds to process what the stallion had just told her. Her lower eyelid trembled slightly in frustration and she thought that she would start spewing foam from her mouth as she grit her teeth. Doing her best to control her temper, she brought a hoof to her face and sighed on it. “What. Happened?”
“The ponies at the reception! After you’ve explained to them that I was to carry your belongings they told me that you came in alone a- and that they thought you wouldn’t need the other reserved room! They told me they already rented it to another important client!” he blurted out those words quickly.
Octavia opened her eyes and inhaled deeply. She held her breath for as long as she had managed before slowly exhaling. “Look, Kovaks... the- this room has two bedrooms. Just- pick any of them and I’ll sleep on the other.”
“I’m really, really sorry, Madam,” he said, bowing to her.
“Just... just... go downstairs and ask the receptionist for more towels. Once you come back just leave them by the door.” The stallion nodded quickly and hastily made its way to the door before Octavia called for him once more. “Oh, and Kovaks.” He turned his head and looked at the damp gray mare. “Order a bottle of champagne.”
The stallion opened his mouth to mutter something but quickly thought against it and resorted to another succession of quick nods. Octavia didn’t wait for him to leave before closing the bathroom door. Without hesitating, she jumped into the tub, spilling a large quantity of water on the already pooling floor before finally turning off the faucet.
‘I just can’t believe it...’ she thought, shaking her head from side to side. What she wanted most that moment was to have Griffin talons instead of hooves and to claw that receptionist’s face clean off. She took a deep breath and submerged in the warm water, enjoying the pleasant feeling of its touch wrapping her whole body at once. Soon enough, her mind slowed down and the mare began to finally relax as the warmth surrounding her temporarily melted away her frustrations.
o0~{CM}~0o
Octavia took her sweet time relaxing in her bubble bath. The hotel’s shampoo didn’t exactly do wonders for her mane, but the poised mare had always taken care of it neatly, making one measly day without proper care something not worth her dire attention. Halfway through her bath, she heard Kovaks opening the door to the suite and placing the towels outside the bathroom door.
When she felt her hooves swell from the prolonged contact with the water she exited the tub, pulling the drain allowing the water to flow freely. She hastily opened the door and grabbed the towels and unconsciously slammed the door shut with too much force. As the mare began to dry herself, she heard a sigh on the other side of the door, followed by the noise of another door slowly closing. She frowned for a moment, thinking that she had somehow mistreated Kovaks, but the thought was quickly pushed aside as she began to shiver.
After completely drying herself up, Octavia opened the bottle of champagne that stood amongst many rocks of ice and poured herself a generous glass. She took a hungry gulp, emptying the glass in mere seconds and quickly filled it once more. Only this time she wanted to savor the liquid before refilling her glass. Sitting next to her instrument’s case, she looked towards the balcony of the suite, gazing upon the lively Canterlot night. Although it was way past the sunset, Canterlot seemed to be the kind of city that never knew rest, as its citizens rushed through the streets day and night, trying their best to complete all their chores as quickly as possible, just so they could start all over again on the following day or night.
Her mind wandered, mulling over the lives of the Canterlot ponies. Those of an ‘inferior’ economic class surely would be the ones to work the hardest in order to support the many ponies that, through luck or fate, were always served with a silver spoon over a silver platter on a silver-stitched bed. She considered the fact that the entire reason the elite acted as such and oppressed the lives of those ‘beneath’ them was so that they would ‘fit’ in with the perceived notion of those around them.
Even if they didn’t want to, they treated the ‘lower’ ponies hauntingly similar to mere tools that were to be used and then tossed away like so much refuse from a high-end restaurant at the end of the night. It was with a small shudder that Octavia acknowledged that they acted just like she did with everypony she interacted with this night, especially...
“Kovaks...” she muttered under her breath and bit her lower lip in shame. She knew that she had treated him in a very harsh way when it wasn’t even his fault that both found themselves in this situation to begin with. She looked to her side, to the two arcs that lead into a bedroom each, one of them having its door closed. Setting her glass on the floor and getting up from the couch, she slowly walked towards the closed door. She stopped before it, gathering the courage to knock on the door and apologize for her most unpleasant behavior. Finding the resolve that she much needed, she shyly knocked on the door and waited.
She heard hoofsteps on the other side, echoing louder and louder as the sound neared the door. It creaked a little as it was slowly pulled by the unicorn stallion on the other side.
“Madam Octavia? Is... anything wrong?” he asked hesitantly, looking surprised to see her.
“Oh, no... not at all,” she said, blushing a bit in shame. Knocking on the door had been a walk on the park compared to what she needed to do next. “I... I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, Kovaks.”
“Not your fault, Madam,” he answered in a gentle tone, smiling warmly at her. Octavia had to admit that she was a bit impressed with the stallion’s polite demeanor. She certainly thought him to be somewhat shaken by the evening’s happenings, and yet, there he was, looking and sounding perfectly fine. Content even.
“But still, I feel simply awful for the way I treated you earlier and I apologise,” she said, lowering her head as her ears flattened. Kovaks laughed a little bit at her display of embarrassment.
“No, really, Madam. I assure you that I’m perfectly fine. I can only wonder how much stressful this night has been for you.”
“Please, Kovaks... you can call me Octavia. I’m not married, after all,” she said, smiling. “Besides, Madam gives this lady the age that she’s still far from.”
“I beg your pardon, Mada-” he caught himself before he could finish his sentence and looked at Octavia with wide eyes. His expression softened as he saw the mare beginning to laugh lightly, with Kovaks himself joining soon afterwards.
“Well,” Octavia voiced after the laughing had died. “I don’t see a reason to let this night go to waste. Kovaks, would you mind joining me for some glasses of champagne?” she asked, pointing with one hoof towards the living room.
“I’d love to!” he said, smiling widely. Octavia took note on the stallion’s general good humor and followed after him. She sat down on the couch and waited as Kovaks wrapped the bottle in his magical veil and poured two glasses, oblivious to her already empty glass on the floor. He held both glasses within his magical grasp and offered one to Octavia, who took it on her hooves and waited for him to sit down in a couch directly in front of her.
“So...” she blurted out, trying to start a conversation. “Kovaks Chrome... that is an unusual name, if you don’t mind me saying,” she quickly added, not wanting to sound rude.
The stallion let out a hearty guffaw “Hah! Not at all. I guess I owe the name to my father. You see, he was always fond of archaic equestrian literature and he had this favorite poet called Kovaks Kerbrsicht-”
“Ah yes, I remember him!” she beamed, placing a hoof on her chin and trying to remember some of his works. “He was a poet born in Stalliongrad from a Germaneighc family, was he not?” she offered, expectantly.
“Jackpot!” Kovaks announced after taking a sip from his glass, abandoning completely the stoic attitude he had maintained whenever he was next to her so far. “So, my father had always liked this poet, and he decided to honor him by naming me Kovaks.”
“And... Chrome?”
“Well...” he said, pumping his chest forward and gesturing towards himself. Octavia didn’t follow his train of thought and kept staring at him blankly. He wiggled his eyebrows once and repeated the gesture from before with his forehooves. Octavia kept her oblivious gaze fixed on him as the stallion kept repeating the gesture over and over again, until she could barely contain herself anymore. First she smirked at him, not able to contain the torrent of giggles that threatened to escape her mouth. Soon, she was laughing a rib aching laugh, pointing a hoof at him.
“What?” the stallion asked, mocking a hurt tone that was betrayed by the smile on his muzzle. “What?!”
“You, you just look so silly doing that!” she exclaimed in between breaths and fits of giggles, cleaning the tears from her eyes.
“But...” he said, beginning to laugh a bit himself. “But I’m explaining to you.” The laughs continued for a short period of time. Whilst Octavia took some breaths to recompose herself, Kovaks took another sip from his glass and continued his story. “It’s because of my coat.”
“Mhm?” she asked, caught off guard whilst drinking her champagne.
“My coat,” he explained, gesturing towards himself once more. She thanked the Goddesses that he didn’t wiggle his eyebrows this time. Otherwise she would have spat all the champagne before entering another fit of giggles. “See, my coat is white, but with a bluish tone,” he said and Octavia finally paid enough attention to notice that his coat was indeed a bit darker than the royal guard-white. “My father thought it to be like silver, so he named me Chrome.”
Octavia smiled and took a final sip from her glass, completely emptying it. Kovaks was quick to notice this and got up from his seat, offering to fill her glass amicably, prompting her to blush lighter shade of pink.
o0~{CM}~0o
Both ponies kept themselves entertained for a long hour. Kovaks was always the gentlecolt, filling both his and Octavia’s glasses whenever he noticed — whenever his drunken haze allowed him, that is — that her cup was empty. Every time he did so, she blushed — although it was more due to the alcohol’s effects than herself — and told him that the kind offer wasn’t needed. But his insistence lead to her compliance and she ended up thanking him many times, whenever her glass was returned to her hooves. They were having such a good time that both had decided to order a second bottle, unwilling to let the good chat end abruptly and be lost amidst the emotions of this city’s citizens in the cold wintry night.
“... and that is how I came to live in Canterlot! Although I must say that being a chaufféur wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I moved from Trottingham, but... it gets me through,” he said and downed his entire glass in one swing. He looked over to it for a second before turning to Octavia. “Hey, I’m going to fill mine again. Do you want me to fill yours as well?”
Octavia immediately shot up from the couch. “Absolutely not!” The stallion kept looking at her, confused and a little dejected. “You’ve been filling my glasses from the moment we’ve started talking! What kind of host would I be if- ”
Once he heard her words, he merely smirked, sounding amused. “This isn’t your house, y’know?” he asked, jesting her one more time.
“But it is my room. And I’ll have you know that, as of now, you are my guest!” she exclaimed and lift her nose high in the air, letting out a mocking harrumph. Kovaks smirked further, but complied when Octavia took his glass from his telekinesis and walked towards the champagne. Kovaks immediately looked to the floor, thinking about some other subject he could bring up and extend their friendly chat a little further. He finally remembered one of his early childhood stories and turned around to face her.
“Hey, Octavia, did I ever tell you about the time I-” Is what he would say if his brain held any cognitive function. For, the instant he looked behind, he saw the gray mare standing up on her hind legs, pouring the golden liquid from the bottle into the first empty cup. His cheeks reddened and burned on his face as his gaze fell upon her beautiful haunches. He drank the sight before him, admiring the lovely contrast between her cutie mark — a purple treble clef — and her heather coat.
He bit his lower lip as his gaze began to shift incessantly; from her haunches to the floor. Kovaks felt a pang of guilt as he admired her plot in quick glances. After all, it was due to her generosity that he had a bed to sleep that night. He noticed that Octavia was finished pouring the champagne on the second glass and quickly turned around. She did the same, and was able to both hear and catch a glimpse of the sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. It was now her turn to blush intensely as million thoughts rushed through her mind. The thought of his embarrassment crossed her mind, and she quickly began to think of ways to make the situation less awkward as she slowly walked back towards the couches.
“So...” she began, biting her lip. Kovaks shifted on his seat, but didn’t turn his head to face her. She continued walking with steady, slow steps. “What did you think about my plot?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. For him, quite the opposite was happening; hearing her saying that made him want to dig a hole and bury himself in it until the ether of time itself was completely depleted.
“It’s... nice...” he shyly offered, feeling his own cheeks burning. Octavia could almost hear his voice trembling.
She handed him his glass, which he promptly took and emptied in one gulp. Looking at him with wide eyes, her ears fell back a bit and she made way for her own couch. “I... I myself think they’re too... big. I heard some stallions complimenting me about it... but I...” she trailed off, noticing that she was only making him even more embarrassed than before.
“You look,” he began, but he hesitated just a moment afterward. His hooftips trembled with desire, sweat already starting to drip along his cheeks, yet pulses of nervousness and sheer fear still flashed through his mind. “Octavia. I don’t know what to say. Except-” Alcohol had already coursed through his insides as well as hers. It didn’t matter that much.
“Except what? Please, just spit it out,” she said, sliding her body ever so gently onto the other side of the couch with her flanks right in the middle of his view. Her cheeks just seemed to radiate as she smiled once more.
He sucked in a deep breath. It would all happen that moment, or never again. He had to believe in himself. After all, his subconscious seemed to be telling him, striking out dozens of times before only meant that he had the law of averages on his side. He forced the thousands of nagging thoughts deep down inside of him. He had to go for it.
“Your plot seems,” he murmured, reaching out a hoof along the back of the couch, “shapely.”
“Shapely?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow. She hadn’t heard that one before.
“Shapely, Octavia,” he went on, trying not to pant as he let his heart out. “My eyes were always drinking it in, moving along every last little curve. Every last inch of your beautiful flanks, the wide shapes...” He took a gulp, seeing her hold up a hoof over her face and blush a bit. “I can’t believe it. Your figure looks so strong, so powerful from standing tall as you play... I almost see...” He closed his eyes as he decided to finish up the thought. “Every curve along your haunches become like notes, altogether going into an amazing symphony from your shapes.”
Kovaks didn’t know if she would laugh at his pretension or just snicker quietly before grabbing another drink. He simply leaned down a bit and stared at the perfectly kept floor. He wondered how many stallions in times past had thrown the companions of their dreams onto that floor. He didn’t know what exactly to think if he would be next.
“Kovaks,” she replied, shifting over even closer. He looked back over, seeing her only one spot away, and he felt his heart racing like never before. “That was actually kind of... poetic.”
“Thanks,” he said, but kept his gaze fixed on the floor.
“You’ve,” she cleared her throat for a moment before going on, “done... you know. Right?”
“She,” he began, shivers going through him as she lined up just inches away from his body, “she had freckles. Thick glasses and a quirky attitude. Only her.” He couldn’t believe that he was saying those things. He couldn’t believe how close her pretty face had gotten to his boiling hot chest. “She had enough of me just a few weeks before I even moved to Canterlot.”
“She decided she couldn’t take the trip?”
“She decided that she liked mares instead.”
Octavia’s smile curled all across her cheeks as she positioned her face right below his. “Her loss. Of course, we mares do have certain things that we tend to be especially good at.” He watched as sweat dripped out of her own mane as well. Her eyes already looked bigger than anything that he’d ever seen. He could gaze into those pools of endless warmth and love for hours. “Very good at.”
“Octavia.” He instinctively leaned forwards, drinking in her wonderful scent. Her smooth locks brushed up against the top of his head. He didn’t wait for another second. He closed his eyes, and they kissed.
And Kovaks had never gotten so much from a mere kiss before. She locked her lips against his, her head bobbing gently from side to side. Her tongue slinked on inside his mouth and delicately ran along his teeth.
Octavia let out light, feminine moans as his hooves went around her shoulders. Her own hooves made tiny dances about his chest, fur nudging against fur. He just let her move on, pressing his body upon the side of the couch. Kiss dissolved into kiss. She was a professional at this trade — no doubt about it. And she planned on making him learn things one way or another.
After making out for Celestia only knows how long, Octavia’s hooves slid down along his belly down towards the area in between his legs. She broke the kiss, his eyes following the trail of saliva dripping down his neck and chest, and he took a huge breath. He felt his throbbing hard colthood bobbing in the air, just waiting for the slightest touch. She sensually brought both hooves down onto his thighs.
She licked her lips. He made a low groan, like a hungry animal, and he closed his eyes. “Oh, Celestia-”
“Very good at,” she murmured once again. He felt her hooves slipping over to his sack, holding them gently. Her mouth moved down as her mane flickered over onto his face, causing him to breath in deeply.
Octavia slurped across his tip. Kovaks immediately felt pulses of pleasure going off all through his mind. His hooves rubbed against her shoulders, his mouth already drooling a bit out onto her neck. She slurped again. He panted, still taking in the amazing pleasure. Her mouth went all over the tip, her hooves moving up along the shaft.
Kovaks let out a half-scream. He couldn’t have even dreamed of it before. No other mare that he had ever seen had looked as beautiful, as professional, or as devoted. And he had her licking up and down the sides of his colthood just like an ice cream cone.
The wonderful slurping and licking went on. Sheer pleasure amped up and up all through Kovaks’ senses. He took a torrent of short, chipper breaths as she kissed the whole tip once again. Octavia calmly slid down and sucked in his whole shaft. He felt his hooves buckling, the pure happiness pushing him right up to the edge. She knew how to do everything perfectly. Her teeth, her tongue, her lips, and everything else teased every last inch of his colthood.
She pumped her head up and down. By some miracle, he kept himself from blowing his stack. It still felt too good, making him wag his head upon her mane and almost cry from the intense sensations. She gave one last pump, her hooves snugly rubbing against his sack, and she pulled herself upwards.
Kovaks shivered as a sharp whine coursed through his system. He felt just a few steps from the edge, his whole body crying out to him. He gazed upon Octavia’s amazing figure as she swung herself to the side, perched along the opposite side of the couch.
She wouldn’t hold back anymore. Primal desires had started to take over, and she wouldn’t be refused. She locked eyes with Kovaks, the stallion still hanging on her every word, and she lifted her tail up in supplication. “Oh, my dear Kovaks,” she murmured, her warm, wet marehood already dripping down onto the pillows, “you know very well that you’re allowed to cum in one place and one place only.” She fluttered her eyebrows and let out a hot breath. “It’s all nice and shapely for you.”
He didn’t even think. He just stood up and perched his body over her huge, supple plot. His colthood felt almost painfully hard as he rubbed it up against the top of her back. His thick pre-cum already dripped down as he moved into position, her pretty gray fur looking even better with the delicate white trail.
“Kovaks,” she whispered, emotions already swelling all through her system, “I... I really do... love you.”
He simply let out a moan of agreement, the tip of his colthood nudging against her wet lips. Her amazing pinkish-grey folds felt so slippery and so warm — perfectly inviting. He closed his eyes again, and he shoved his hips forwards.
And his thrust shot his mind straight into paradise. Inch by inch, moving as deep as he could go, sheer joy rippled up his sides. He fell down onto her back, his front hooves touching over against hers. He simply panted onto her shoulders, knowing that even his wildest dreams couldn’t touch this by a mile.
Kovaks slid out, his senses filling up with the raw pleasure, and he pressed the rest of his chest and belly against Octavia’s back. She squealed softly, clearly loving it just as much as he did. He thrusted himself in for the second time. His mind already melted into another world. Pump after pump followed. Her shivers of ecstasy amped up, and their mutual moans filled every last inch of the expensive room. He might have thought about how he wanted all the neighboring guests to hear their joy.
But, of course, he couldn’t think at all.
Kovaks couldn’t begin to make things last, to draw his thrusts down into something slow and mechanical. Octavia fed him like an animal — her own rapid squeals matching with their hard knocking upon the couch. He simply rutted her huge, curvy plot. Moment by moment, going faster and faster, he finally felt Octavia’s endless pleasures shoving him right over the edge.
And he simply released himself. His mind seemed to float off into a cloud of warmth. Her feminine noises, amping up just a second ago, melted in a wonderful coo. He reflexively slid out, seeing his still hard colthood slip out of her wet slit and rub up against her soft belly, and he sucked in deep breaths.
Smoothly shifting her body off her back over to see him face to face, she nudged his colthood up along her chest. Kovaks’ sticky white cream dripped along her belly and chest, the tip even rubbing up against her stunning necklace. He closed his eyes once more as he totally finished, making an almost girly whine.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Octavia murmured, shifting herself until she had her body rubbing up his knee, “you even got my necklace all sticky... how naughty.” She leaned over and brushed her head upon his neck, letting her hot breath flow across his cheek.
“Yes,” Kovaks whispered. Thoughts bubbled up all through his mind, knowing that his colthood still throbbed in the air, as he nervously glanced from place to place along the room. “I... ahhh...” He had unlocked something deep inside of her — animal instincts that flashed a deeply hungry expression across her pretty face and made her long black mane frazzle all over his chest. “I...” She had to get satisfied.
“Let’s turn the scents back on,” she suddenly said, stepping off of the couch and moving over to the nearby end table. She reached out a hoof at the big white circular device, yellow lights rippling across its top, as hints of a tulip-filled meadow began to filter out into the air.
“What on the what?” he muttered, standing up a bit but hesitating in place. He felt so awkward with his rock-hard colthood just sticking out in the air, thanking Luna that no one else was there to see him.
“One always has,” she said, breathing in the wonderful scents as her tail rubbed along her plot, “to turn things back on until they’re totally finished.”
Kovaks stepped over without thinking, moving like a wound-up toy soldier, as Octavia slid her body along the end table. Her plot perched over at his direction once again, she tried something new — spreading her legs out wide. He took a deep gulp as he lined-up behind her. His colthood, already soaking wet from Octavia’s wonderful love juices, stuck through the flowing black locks of her tail.
She knocked her head upon the table slightly, clearly egging him on. He smoothly moved his right hoof along her flank and nudged it against her small, snugly-looking tailhole. Her body seemed to tingle — more sensitive than ever before as he played with the hole, moving in circles around it.
Kovaks braced himself as he positioned his colthood, his hoof playing with her more and more. She finally made a sharp squeal, and he smiled from cheek to cheek as he pumped his hips back. His powerful, deep thrust brought them both in the throes of immense pleasure.
Her mane flopping all across his shoulders and her tail wrapped down against his hind hooves, Kovaks pushed himself as far as he could go. Her moans seemed five times more desperate — her senses going off without control. Thrust after thrust immediately followed. An grand surge of strength, like steel through his spine, seemed to swell up inside of him.
He pounded her hard against the table. The scent-spouting device wobbled from side to side and finally crashed over onto the ground. He only took that as an invitation to shove himself even more, coming to his full strength. She made half-screams, her mouth locked open as her frayed mane tossed every which way.
Torrents of pleasure just seemed to rain down upon his mind, and he knew beyond any doubt that she felt exactly the same way. Yet he pounded away like a machine. He couldn’t even begin to think anymore. Sheer instinct finally told him that she had reached her own limit. He grabbed the sides of her flanks, hearing her shriek in approval, and he slammed himself forwards — just about knocking the table completely over.
Octavia swooned, her face locking into a wide expression. She felt him just emptying himself out — sticky warmth flowing through her plot. She could almost sense it coursing through every last inch of her body, filling her. Some almost mystical switch flipped in her mind, forcing her to yell as she closed her eyes. She’d ride that high for a long time. She knew it.
Kovaks staggered over to the side. Plopping down upon a small, fluffy end chair, he watched as his colthood fell onto him. His eyes bounced over to the thick whiteness dotted upon Octavia’s plot to her magnificent haunches. They both took their time to gather their breaths — letting their minds suck up every last drop of pleasure until they came back to reality.
“Thanks, Kovaks,” Octavia finally murmured, putting on such a peaceful voice that Kovaks seemed just honored to hear her. She got up from the table and eyed the bathroom.
As she calmly sauntered over and prepared to freshen herself back up, Kovaks glanced straight upwards. He caught his reflection in a mirror in the opposite side of the room. He immediately felt foolish — eyes locking on how weird he looked. His body curled upon the chair with his head against the floor and his hooves pointing off towards the window.
Thinking things through rationally, a flash of worry shot through him. Kovaks, or so he thought, had no reason to expect himself to mean anything to her. She always was a ‘perfect ten’ — an absolute wonder from her haunches to her mane. He thought that she wanted to use him as a toy, obviously, to get her satisfied. With his job finished, he knew that she’d discard him as such.
He got up and stepped slowly over to the door. He had to face it. She’d never see anything serious in him. She had no reason to. Mares like her could order males like pizza. His order was clearly up, now that she had gotten satisfied. He looked forlornly over at her, wishing to hear the mare mutter the words he so desperately needed to hear. But the seconds ticked away and Octavia not even glanced back at him.
“I’ll... I’ll just leave you, then,” he muttered, feeling more than dejected. “Since... that’s what... you don’t need me anymore.”
“Kovaks,” she called out, sticking a head out of the bathroom. She immediately looked bemused by his sad, reflective facial expression as she ran a towel over her hooves. “What are you going on about?”
“I...” He cleared his throat. “Yes...” He tried not to sound too pleading, much as he felt totally inseparable from her. His soul, his very essence burned for her. Her tender touches and wonderful moves had woken up something inside of Kovaks, and he hoped against hope — desperately running through his mind that she should feel the same way too.
“Stay with me tonight?” she asked, stepping across the room as she opened her forelegs and invited the stallion for a hug. Kovaks smiled and embraced the mare that he couldn’t help but love.
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