Sometimes you don't get to reward a handsome daredevil for death-defying heroics. Sometimes you get to reward a beautiful one instead. This silly practical pony of mine has had this coming since that wretched day in the forest and those dreadful timber wolves. I had lost my way, hunting for gems and came across those foul beasts, and she came to my rescue! I've been meaning to thank her properly for a while now, but Applejack always has so many chores to do. We haven't had a date in ages! Luckily I finally managed to get her to take a break, and lured her back to my boutique, where I would reward her even if she liked it or not! I'm just generous like that, you see.
I start by inhaling that scent. That sweet, tantalizing, mesmerizing burst of citrus that bites at my nose and makes my mouth water. It lingers, fizzling in my brain, sending blasts of lightning through my body. I love that scent. However, as much as I enjoy this, there are more parts to find and nibble. I pull away a lock of ruffled gold and explore.
I lean in, dragging the silky sensation of my tongue across the tangerine fuzz along the rim of her ear. She squeaks through the gag, but I pay her no mind. Instead, I start to nibble: gentle, little, tugging bites that reward me with heavier breathing and needy wriggles. The fabric of my scarves will hold her in place, though. I've made sure of that. Oooooh, how she squirms. I kiss down, paying attention to her jaw line. It's like a little faint trail of muscle that brings me to her mouth. I seal my lips around hers, and even through the gag, Applejack tastes so very sweet.
I return to kissing her body after an eternity against her lips. I simply cannot get my fill of this mare. I work my way down from her chin to her neck. Here, my bites get harder. I give her more. Always giving. I'm generous like that. I give her more. More, more, more. More suckling, more affection from my tongue. More flavorful bursts of this mare. I hear her moaning my name through the gag. I grin.
I make sure to kiss along her neck in layered smooches. I love these slow loving little kisses that force her to writhe for me. She bucks and strains against the various scarves that hold her prisoner. She's struggling just the way I want her to. Once I've finished peppering her neck with skillfully applied affection, I lean back to eye over her deliciously powerful form. She's breathing hard by now, suckling in lungfuls of air through her nose, while chewing on the gag I've supplied her with. If you think my methods cruel, I assure you, they're a mere precaution: this mare is a screamer you see.
The blindfold keeps her guessing as to what my next move will be. Her body grows tense when I gently roam my hooves along her toned flanks. I slide them along her body, squeezing where I like, exploring where I want. There's nothing she can do to stop me. She likes it like that.
I lean down to plant my lips along the ring of her navel. She shudders. She's greedy with anticipation, and can barely hold back the needy whimpers that escape past her lips. Luckily, the gag helps with that, so I don't worry. I dip my tongue into her belly button, flicking it back and forth and enjoy the way she squirms and moans. I'm bidding my time and teasing her. We both know where I'm headed, but the longer she has to wait, the sweeter she tastes. I decide to make her wait.
I kiss lower, working my lips up against taut muscles. The inner thigh is wildly sensitive, more so when your victim is blind folded. Every kiss, lick, and suckle, sends a wild shiver through her. I can smell her need. She's getting slippery from all this, and helplessly so. I trail my tongue down her inner thigh again, basking in the squeals from above me. I'm glad I tied her down.
I work my way up to her pouty little sex. She's begging me with muffled squeaks and squeals. I start slowly, kissing up her inner thighs. Right along the pubic bone, but not quite touching her tender flower. No, instead, I busy myself with her little gold patch of pubic fuzz. I nibble there, teasingly. I roll my snout along her little forest and delight in how she bucks her hips in a silent plead to get me to go lower. I work my way back up to her belly button.
By now, she's breathing in ragged, uneven gasps. I know just where to kiss on this particular mare to get a reaction. Tis only a shame I chose to explore her front side tonight, instead of her back. Something I will certainly remedy in the future. But for now, I tease along her belly button, planting my lips directly on it and working my way back down again.
When I finally kiss her glistening petals, she freezes. Her entire body goes rigid and her breathing stops. She's been waiting for this moment for so long, surely I would finally give her what she's been begging for, right?! I linger there for only a moment, then move on.
Now the poor thing is dreadfully frustrated. She bucks her hips again, sending bursts of slickness into the air and tries to pull those powerful legs of hers from my skillfully applied knots. She isn't going anywhere and she knows it. I can smell her fragrance, her personal pony perfume tells me how desperate she's getting. How hopelessly needy she is. She's trying in vain to squeezes her thighs together or to rub something over her quivering mound. Anything to bring her some relief. I'm hardly finished.
I ignite my horn in a fierce shower of magic. Her glistening treasure glows the same color, and I delicately pull her honey soaked petals apart. There's my prize. An adorable little pink button that's shimmering in the dim light of the room. The right amount of attention to her plump little clit could end this right now- if I so chose. She desperately wants the pleasure I dangle over her, and I lean down to blow cold air across it just to listen to her squeal.
Conjuring is not a difficult school of magic to learn and can be useful in a pinch. Situations that require something more than lips alone can benefit a great deal from magic. Times, such as these, for example, can be lucratively capitalized on with the simple summoning of a feather. With the blindfold securely over her eyes, my next move remained hidden from view. I counted on this, as I drew it down and lovingly swirled it around her clit. If I thought she was squirming before, she's flat out, bucking now!
Spirals, left, right, up, down, clockwise, counter-clockwise. She bucked, and gasped and whinnied in torment. I did not relent. My torture was cruel as it was satisfying, and soon she was whimpering and squirming in dire need. She kept moaning my name, over and over through the gag, while tiny rivulets of arousal raced down from her sex and over the curves of her perfect behind. I leaned in close and gave her another cold breath of air.
I told you the gag was a necessity. She screamed. The poor dear has quite the set of lungs, even with all the squealing she's been doing. I plant a loving kiss on that little button and turn my attention to her garden. I kiss into her slowly, working my lips down into her sex, where I thrash my tongue around. I am not some careless oaf, mind, I know my way around a treasure box. As an artist, I paint delicately along her inner tunnels and pat attention to the way she squeaks. I kiss and lick and gather her juices against my tongue, swallowing her need in great thirsty gulps. I give her all she can handle and more. It's the generosity in me, I swear.
You might think this would be enough to send the poor mare over the edge, but you'd be mistaken, dear. Not this particular mare. Like most of us, it's lovely to give attention to the treasure box, but the real treasure itself is the pearl to be found. I return to that plump little nub and wrap my lips around it. Here, I suckle and kiss, and swirl my tongue around it in teasing circles. The direct contact of my tongue and not some flimsy conjured feather has a profound effect. She screams immediately.
My mouth is flooded with the girl's sweet nectar, but I don't stop there. No, of course not. I kiss and suckle over and over and over again, varying the degrees of my intensity on that poor oversensitive little pebble. She can't stand it. I hear her breathlessly trying to cry out as climax after climax robs her of her ability to speak. When she finally stops thrashing around on the bed, I climb up and curl up next to her.
I tap my horn against the gag, and it and all of the other bindings immediately drop to the floor. I bury my nose against her neck, while she cuddles next to me, panting and wheezing into my ear.
"Y-Ya'll sure do k-know yer way around down there." She stammers with the most adorable blush piercing through her tangerine coat. I nuzzle against her, delighting in the way her freckles turn from white to pink when she blushes like that. I can't get enough and luckily, it won't be long until we can do this again. Because I know sooner or later, she'll ask me. And I'll give it to her.
Because I'm generous like that.
Author's Note
Commercial free!
I've been dying to write a Rarijack fic lately! Here it is!
Mind you, all of the above is consensual. No ponies were harmed in the making of this story. (Although one might have gotten a spanking >=) )
And since I keep being asked, "Silver and Silk" are both in reference to my 'tongue' as these are oral based stories. 
