The Sweetest Dessert

by RadPanic

Rating: mature
Tags: Fetish, Pinkie Pie, Sex, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Porn
Length: 4810

Pinkie licks Twilight's horn. Things spiral out of control from there. [Fetish story, featuring horn sex and inflation.]

Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie wrap up another dinner date and retire to Pinkie's bedroom. There, Pinkie does something a little impulsive. Twilight likes it, and Pinkie likes the way Twilight likes it—so Pinkie keeps doing it. Then, things get a little strange.

—————

Fluffy fetish porn, featuring: magic slime inflation, horn job, horn penetration, orgasm denial, goofy innuendo, and explicit hardcore snuggling. This story was a commission, from a patron who shall henceforth be known as Anon no.2. Also, this was inspired by one of plasma-snake's art pieces; I probably can't link directly from here, but it's #39969 on Derpibooru.

Thanks to:
Anon no.1 for help pre-reading and brainstorming,
Anon no.2 for being an all-around cool guy,
the crowd on /trash/ for encouraging me to think weirder.

Published 2017-02-05 17:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-05 17:40:01 UTC

Boinking

“Ahhh...” Twilight swallowed her last mouthful of mashed potato, leaning back in her chair with a smile. That mouthful joined the green bean casserole, asparagus, and fresh garden salad already in her stomach.

On the other side of the dinner table, Pinkie had long since cleaned off her own plate; she’d spent the last few minutes just watching Twilight eat. “Well?” she asked. “How was it?”

“Delicious,” Twilight replied—as if her speed gobbling down the meal weren’t enough of an answer. “Thank you again for making dinner.”

“No biggie.” Pinkie rose from her seat and walked around the table to nuzzle Twilight. “Anything for the best girlfriend I could ever ask for!”

“Awwww…” Twilight returned the nuzzle.

When the whole Cake family had left to visit relatives in Vanhoofer, Twilight and Pinkie had both agreed Sugarcube Corner would be the ideal spot for their date. Now, the shop was closed for the evening, and Gummy was at Spike and Big Macintosh’s “Guys’ Night” at the Library—leaving the two loverponies alone here.

Twilight pulled away and grabbed the dirty dishes with her magic. “I can help clean up.”

“But the dishes can wait, Twi-Twi…” Pinkie leaned closer and whispered into Twilight’s ear, “I wanted to have dessert first…”

Twilight paused. A grin broke out on her face as she set the dishes back down. “What kind of dessert?”

“A very special dessert.” Pinkie’s eyes were half-lidded, and her grin was sultry. “It’s up in my bedroom…”

“Sounds delicious…”

With light steps and many giggles, the two cantered out the kitchen and up the stairs. In the upstairs hall, Pinkie rushed forward to her bedroom door. She took longer than usual to turn the knob, and wiggled and swayed her hips more than strictly necessary—bouncing her rump as a little bit of an extra show just for Twilight. The party pony was slightly chubbier than the average mare, enough to accentuate her curves and put some extra jiggle in her movements.

“After you!” Pinkie said, holding the door open. Twilight stepped in.

Pinkie’s room—normally a relentlessly cheerful abode of earth tones and bright pinks—was now soaked in sensuous dimness, with a few half-lit firefly lamps as the only light sources. At the center of the room was a bed, a rug, and a nightstand...

...a nightstand bearing a plate of cookies.

Pinkie bounced over and held up one of the cookies. “See? I made those cookie sandwiches you liked so much last time!” She shoved it into her mouth. “Same frosting in the middle and everything!”

She swallowed, then folded her ears back as she noticed Twilight. “Um, what’s wrong?” Pinkie asked. “Is this the wrong dessert?”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “I misunderstood… When you were talking about ‘dessert’, I thought you meant sex.”

Pinkie gasped. “That’s an even better idea! Cookies can wait!” She shoved the whole nightstand to the side of the room, then flopped onto her bed. Laying on her side, she struck her best come hither-pose and fixed her sultriest bedroom eyes on Twilight.

Anypony else might have laughed at the sight—but Twilight just blinked. After mentally re-adjusting for the second time in the last minute, she gave Pinkie a lecherous grin of her own. At that moment, as far as Twilight cared, that pink pony was the sexiest thing since sex itself.

So Twilight sashayed over, swaying her hips with every step. She slid into place next to Pinkie, slipping forelegs around her torso—thrilling at the slight give of Pinkie’s pudge beneath her hooves. Then she closed her eyes, leaned in, and kissed Pinkie.

“Mmmhhh…”

Heat rushed through Twilight’s whole body as they kissed again and again. Pinkie’s lips were soft but strong, and her whole mouth tasted sweet—her breath was like all the best scents from Sugarcube Corner combined into one.

Twilight broke from Pinkie’s lips but didn’t pull away, instead planting more kisses on Pinkie’s cheek, then down to her jaw. There was a spot where Pinkie’s neck met her left shoulder, and the last time Twilight had nuzzled there, Pinkie had shivered and made some very interesting noises. Now, Twilight’s lips made for that same spot, slowly but surely.

“Ooooh…” Pinkie moaned, tightening her forelegs around Twilight’s shoulders, holding the unicorn to her chest. She lazily cracked her eyes, watching the top of Twilight’s head dip lower, as her kisses traced slowly down Pinkie’s neck. Twilight’s horn caught Pinkie’s attention like it never had before. It was so smooth, so shiny, so purple, so, so…

Heh, she thought. It’s my very own Twilight lollipop.

On a sudden impulse, Pinkie flicked her tongue out and licked that horn.

Twilight’s eyes shot open. A completely new sensation jolted down her spine and back—like an electric shock, but somehow soft and wet as well. And the next thing Twilight knew, she had Pinkie squeezed in a death grip, and had her own nose squashed into Pinkie’s neck.

Twilight released her grip, and both ponies suddenly pulled away—and Twilight went right off the bed, tumbling onto the rug. Twilight sat up; Pinkie crouched over the edge of the mattress. Concern written across their faces, and they both spoke at once:

“I’m so sorry, Twi-Twi! I shouldn’t have…”

“I’m sorry, Pinkie, I don’t know what…”

They both paused, then spoke again:

“What are you apologizing...”

“No, it wasn’t you, it was…”

Another pause, longer this time. Twilight slowly opened her mouth, and—once it was clear Pinkie wasn’t about to speak—she said, “Why don’t you go first?”

Pinkie nodded. “I’m sorry I licked your horn. I wouldn’t’ve done it if I knew you hated it so much!”

“Ooohhhh.” Twilight smiled and leaned forward, nuzzling her girlfriend. “I didn’t hate it, Pinkie. It just took me by surprise, is all. I’m sorry I grabbed you so hard when I flinched.”

“Aww, that’s okay.” From her perch on the bed, Pinkie wrapped her legs around Twilight again. “You’d have to squeeze a lot harder than that to hurt me! We Pies are hardcore huggers!”

“So…” Twilight smirked. “How did my horn taste?”

“Hmmm… you mostly taste kinda… Twilighty.”

“‘Twilighty’?”

“You want me to take another taste to make sure?”

Twilight chuckled. “What the hay? Sure, why not?”

Pinkie blinked, then broke out into an even wider grin. “Okie-dokie-lokie, taste test number two…”

She stuck her tongue out again, pressing it against the base of Twilight’s horn until it curled nearly halfway around. Then Pinkie licked—but this time, she savored it. Sloooowly, her tongue slid up, caressing the horn, inch by inch.

Twilight’s eyes widened again as the sensation returned and, this time, lingered. It wrapped around her brain, rushed down her spine, and even trickled down her other nerves. She didn’t flinch this time. Instead, Twilight’s limbs quivered, then she let herself go completely limp, leaning against the bed’s side. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her entire face flushed, in response to what felt like Pinkie giving big, sloppy kisses to her entire nervous system.

After the longest minute, ever, Pinkie finally slid her tongue right off the tip of Twilight’s horn. “Yep!” Pinkie said, licking her lips. “You definitely taste Twilighty.”

Twilight gave her a dazed smile in return. What she wanted to say to Pinkie was: There must be empathetic magic at work. When you intentionally stimulate my horn like that, I can feel your emotions, especially your love, injected directly into my own thaumic-nervous system!

What actually came out of Twilight’s mouth was: “Woooow… That felt like, like you were boinking my brain! I love it!”

“No cussing!” Pinkie booped Twilight right on the snoot, then pressed again, this time holding her hoof there. “No mouth that dirty is allowed anywhere near my naughty bits!”

Twilight folded her ears back. But before she could speak, Pinkie cradled Twilight’s face in her hooves, lowered her eyes indecently, and said, “Maybe I can help you… clean it.”

She leaped off the bed and onto Twilight, mashing their lips together in the process, more forcefully this time. Twilight was pushed back, onto the plush, fuzzy rug—and Pinkie pinned her there, without interrupting her exploration of Twilight’s tonsils for even a second. Twilight tried to wrap her own forelegs around Pinkie, but they were stuck beneath her girlfriend’s belly pudge, so she settled for moaning into her mouth instead.

Pinkie broke the kiss but barely pulled away, keeping her muzzle mere inches from Twilight’s, their breath hot upon each other’s noses. Staring deep into Twilight’s eyes, Pinkie said, “That’s what you get for being a pottymouth.”

“Maybe I should cuss more often, then.”

“And my reward for not being a pottymouth…” Pinkie’s eyes traveled up. “...is candy. Big, shiny, Twilighty candy.”

She kissed Twilight’s snoot, then right between her eyes, then her forehead, then the base of her horn. She gave the horn a quick lick, barely teasing it with her tongue—and Twilight shivered, hard enough to make Pinkie vibrate a bit as well. So Pinkie did it again, and again, and again, licking longer each time and savoring as Twilight alternately shook and went limp beneath her. Twilight was normally so smart, so powerful—but now she was moaning, wiggling putty on the tip of Pinkie’s tongue.

“Mmmm…” Words failed Twilight as Pinkie caressed her horn, Pinkie’s affection and desire feeling like a warm massage against every nerve in her body. Sweat formed all over her—with every lick she grew hotter, especially between her hind legs. “Muuuuhhh… Ohhhh…”

After one more lick, Pinkie pursed her lips and placed them on the very tip of Twilight’s horn. Then, as slowly as she could manage, she slid her lips down its length, taking it into her mouth like a popsicle. That made Twilight moan louder and shake harder, much to Pinkie’s delight. But as she reached the base—and the tip of the horn brushed her tonsils—she realized this was an awkward angle to continue working from. So Pinkie pulled away, then sprung and flipped mid-air, landing so she faced Twilight. And she immediately resumed—from there, she only had to tilt Twilight’s head a few degrees to fit that whole, delicious horn inside her mouth.

Twilight just lay prone, unconstrained but too weak from Pinkie’s ministrations to move. “Uuuhhhhh… Oooohhh!” From her brain to her loins to her hooves, she could feel those soft lips and dextrous tongue caressing every inch of her length. She was soaked in sweat now, the heat inside growing into a roaring inferno. “Mmmmm! Ooohhhh!”

In, out, in, out, Pinkie slid her mouth over Twilight’s horn. Up, down, up, down, Twilight alternately arched her back and relaxed in response. Hotter and hotter, the fire grew in Twilight’s core and her loins, building closer and closer to the inevitable eruption.

Pinkie slid her lips all the way down to Twilight’s head. When Twilight responded with a particularly animated squirm, Pinkie giggled. And that was enough to trigger the eruption.

“Pinkiiiaaaaaaaaugh!” As Twilight succumbed to the first throes of her climax, she arched her back, flexed her legs in the air, and released her magic. This was not spellcasting, but the opening of a floodgate in her mind—allowing undifferentiated thaumic power to flow from her horn like a river.

Something filled Pinkie’s mouth, something thick and warm and slimy, yet undeniably Twilighty. Pinkie’s eyes shot open and she tried to pull away, but she couldn’t—like an electric current, Twilight’s magic made Pinkie’s mouth clamp tightly around that horn, locking her in place, while her cheeks bulged out. When Pinkie swallowed, the mouthful of slime settled like a heavy lump in her stomach, yet it tingled pleasantly, in a way she couldn’t quite articulate. Then more slime poured into her mouth, filling it even faster than before. So she gulped it down again, and again, and again—her stomach filling to the limit, and then beginning to stretch as the slime kept coming.

“Hrrmmm?” Pinkie mumbled in between swallows. Her belly was the size of a beachball and swelling larger with every lump of slime she swallowed. It brushed against the insides of her legs as it inflated larger, then squeezed right into them. Pinkie tried to lift a hoof—to prod at her distending gut and prove that this was really happening—but the magic locked her legs in place as well, so all she could do was move her back a bit and jiggle her slime-filled tummy. “Mmmrrrmm…”

Pinkie’s muffled words still managed to vibrate Twilight’s horn, stimulating her to even higher states of arousal—which in turn made Twilight pump more magic slime into Pinkie, even faster. Those pink cheeks bulged further as the slime flowed into her almost faster than she could swallow; even so, every drop found its way into Pinkie’s stomach, bloating it larger and larger. It ballooned enough to press against the ground, then spread outward—twice Pinkie’s normal width, then even wider. Farther and farther it bulged around her legs, which stayed firmly locked in place. Yet, the larger Pinkie stretched to accommodate that slimy mass, the better she felt. That delightful tingling grew at the same rate as the volume inside her.

“Mmnnmm…” Pinkie moaned again, which pushed Twilight so far through the haze of orgasmic bliss that she approached lucidity again. She cracked her eyelids and finally saw the results of her magic.

I did that, Twilight though. I’m inflating Pinkie like one of her party balloons.

She could stop it. Her magic held Pinkie’s mouth in place over her horn, but Twilight had just enough control—and enough presence of mind—that she could break the bond and stop herself from bloating her marefriend any further. Stop from giving Pinkie a massive belly full of her magic—squishy and sloshy and larger than both of them combined, more of Pinkie to hug and to love…

Screw it, Twilight thought. She reached up with her forehooves and cradled Pinkie’s head—while also holding Pinkie in place, even though it wasn’t strictly necessary. You’re my balloon now, Pinkie. Suck it all down. Inflate for me.

And with that thought, she slipped back into the blissful mental fog—groaning as she poured magic through her horn even more quickly than before. Pinkie moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head, as the slime continued pumping into her, forcing its way down her esophagus—now even faster than she could swallow. Her gut swelled wider and wider, bulging further around the sides of her legs and even up against her torso. Pinkie’s back arched as that belly—already wide as three of her—tried to expand upward.

Pinkie giggled around the horn—prompting Twilight to pump the slime into her faster still—because she just couldn’t help it. She felt good, sexy good, not just in her mouth and her naughty bits, but also in her big, bulging cheeks and her ballooning tummy. That slime from Twilight’s horn was firing up all of Pinkie’s burners just as surely as it was filling her up—four times her old width, then even farther. Add to that the pressure where her immobilized legs were completely engulfed by her belly—the competing forces of the magic holding them in place and her gut pushing them out causing them to quiver, sending ripples across that slime-filled mass.

Pinkie couldn’t take much more. She was so close…

Twilight gasped. The magic from her horn sputtered, then stopped—releasing Pinkie. With her legs no longer held to the floor, Pinkie suddenly rose up several feet, as her massive belly contracted to a slightly less squashed shape. Twilight’s horn slipped out of her mouth, shooting a few more spurts of the slime onto that enormous belly. The unicorn just sprawled limp on the floor, resting her head on the pink pillow of her girlfriend’s bloated gut.

And that gut jiggled and wobbled as Pinkie writhed atop it, digging her legs into its squishy sides. “Twilight…” she moaned. “Twiiiiliiiiight…”

Upon hearing her name, Twilight emerged once more from the haze of her climax. She rolled over and rose to her hooves—then lost her balance and fell sideways onto Pinkie’s belly, sinking a few inches into that slime-filled, sloshing mass. That woke Twilight up all the way. She took in what her girlfriend had become: a pony perched on a stomach as tall as herself, and almost three times as wide. She was large enough to cover over half of the rug beneath, and to press up against her bed on the one side and her couch on the other. At the sight of Pinkie, and the sensation of her own torso squishing into that gut, Twilight’s eyes dilated, her ears folded back, and her face reddened—a mix of both attraction and guilt.

“Ohhh, yeah, that feels good…” Pinkie murmured, as she bobbed up and down atop the jiggling that her girlfriend caused and groped her distended stomach with all four hooves.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” Twilight said, standing back. “I really should have asked you before I did… this.”

“Huh?” Pinkie paused and gave Twilight a bleary grin. “That’s okay, Twi-Twi!”

Twilight sighed. “Thank you.”

“What is this stuff, anyway?” Pinkie scooped up some of slime clinging to her belly. It was the same shade of magenta as Twilight’s magical aura, and it sparkled even in the dim light of the room.

“Thaumoplasm,” Twilight said. “If a unicorn sends magic out their horn without forming it into a spell, then it manifests as that.”

“Oohhhhhh. I thought it tasted like you!” Pinkie shoved the slime into her mouth and swallowed. “Mmmmm! It’s like I’ve got a tummy full of your love, Twi!”

And it was probably just Twilight’s imagination, but she thought she saw Pinkie’s belly swell just a little bit more with that mouthful. Which made Twilight realize she was ready for another round. As luck would have it…

“Anyway, Twi-Twi,” Pinkie said, as she resumed groping her gut, “you kinda left me hanging here!”

“I did?”

“My party cannon is primed and ready, but somepony yanked out the fuse before it could blow!” Pinkie then leaned as close to Twilight as she could on her inflated belly and, in an unnecessary conspiratorial whisper, added, “That’s a metaphor. I’m talking about my naughty bits.”

“Oh, dear.” Twilight wore an outright indecent smile as she reared back to lean against Pinkie, resting both forelegs on her gut. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.” She leaned closer, squishing deeper into that soft belly. “But I’m not sure if my mouth is clean enough.”

She meant to lean forward into another kiss, but Pinkie beat her to the punch. Their lips met once again, and their tongues wrestled for wet, sticky dominance—while their every motion set Pinkie’s inflated belly shaking and wobbling underneath. They moaned into each other’s mouths; the slime in Pinkie’s gut glorped as it sloshed back and forth.

Twilight pulled away. “Wait, wait, I have an even better idea.” She pointed at her horn and said, “What if I put this in—”

Pinkie gasped. “Omigosh, omigosh… I have no idea!” She wore a huge smile and bounced up and down atop the cushion of her gut. “But it’s worth a try!”

“Wonderful…”

Twilight took her time circling around her inflated girlfriend. For the first few feet, she held one hoof out, caressing the swollen belly as she went. When Pinkie giggled at that, Twilight took it as an invitation and leaned into her. Like a cat rubbing against a pony’s legs, Twilight nuzzled and pressed her torso into Pinkie’s bloated mass as she walked. With every step, that enormous pink gut wobbled—and Pinkie bobbed up and down atop it.

“Oooohh…” Pinkie moaned. “Aaahhh…”

Twilight was behind Pinkie’s tail now. She reared back—but even standing on her back legs, she could only reach as far as Pinkie’s hooves, so large was the belly holding up the earth pony. So Twilight clambered up, all four of her hooves sinking inches into its sweat-slicked, squishy sides.

Perched high on her own gut, Pinkie panted at the sensation. With her stomach pumped full of her girlfriend’s arousal-drenched magic, the slightest touch on that bloated mass was enough to turn Pinkie on even further. And Twilight was going way beyond slightest touches. The unicorn’s trim belly slid against the exponentially larger pink one, her stifles squished a bit deeper, and her hooves dug deeper still—it all felt nearly as good as that thing Twilight did with her tongue on the last date.

Grabbing Pinkie’s plump haunches, Twilight pulled herself up the rest of the way. She was inches away from Pinkie’s honeypot; the scent of her arousal was sweet and intoxicating in Twilight’s nose. Twilight gave those lips a slow lick, savoring the taste almost as much as she savored Pinkie’s coos of pleasure. At the same time, Twilight spurted out a little more thaumoplasm and telekinetically smeared it all over her horn. With a dopey grin, she lowered her head to align her lubricated horn with Pinky’s winking nethers.

“Ready or not,” Twilight sing-songed, “here I come!” That elicited another giggle from Pinkie. Then Twilight leaned forward, gently sliding her tip inside Pinkie. That elicited a lusty moan from the earth pony—and another burst of the magic slime from Twilight’s horn. Twilight pushed in farther, little by little.

“Mmmmm!” Pinkie bit her lip and curled her forelegs, squeezing those hooves against her inflated gut. Twilight’s horn was honestly a bit small compared to her snatch, but it was small and mighty—a spoon in her mixing bowl, stirring her dough spicier and spicier… Okay, that metaphor didn’t make much sense, but metaphors were more Twilight’s thing, and Pinkie felt too sexy good to worry about them either way.

Part of it was Twilight’s technique: she remembered where to find Pinkie’s most sensitive spots, and rubbed those with her horn more than anywhere else. But another part of it was the magic at work. Just as Pinkie’s love had earlier poured directly into Twilight’s nervous system—reducing the unicorn to a helpless bundle of lust—now Twilight’s affection and arousal were flowing directly into Pinkie.

And that wasn’t the only thing flowing into her. Stimulated by Pinkie’s inner walls, Twilight’s horn spurted out more slime—over and over, every few seconds now. The thaumoplasm flowed lazily down Pinkie’s love canal and settled inside her womb, where it tingled even more than the mass in her stomach. Her innermost space filled with Twilight’s magic soon enough, but the flow didn’t stop: with a moan of her own, Twilight produced a whole gallon in a single spurt, and Pinkie’s womb began to stretch. At that, the pink one dropped her head onto her belly and panted with pleasure.

“Twiliiiight…” she moaned. “I’m so close…”

Twilight grunted and picked up her pace. In and out, in and out, she penetrated Pinkie over and over. She was close to another climax, herself. The stimulation on her horn; Pinkie’s thick, juicy haunches between her forehooves; that slime-filled belly sloshing beneath her, squeezing against her, embracing every curve of Twilight’s underside—all were driving the unicorn wild. She could feel that gut inflate a little more with every bit of slime she inadvertently pumped into Pinkie’s womb, which turned Twilight on even further and made her squirt even more slime into her girlfriend—a feedback loop that part of Twilight hoped would never end.

Twilight was trying to be a good lover and make sure Pinkie came before she did herself. But thanks to the empathetic effects of the magic at work, Twilight’s mental efforts to hold back her own climax were instead holding Pinkie back.

“Oh! Oohhhhhhh!” Pinkie writhed atop her ballooning belly. That first round had been too much, but what Pinkie felt now was somehow beyond too much. Her nethers burned, growing warmer at every touch of Twilight’s horn. Her womb sang with pleasure as it filled larger and larger with Twilight’s love-slime. And the hundreds of gallons of slime sloshing in her belly just amplified the sensation. Pinkie never imagined it was possible to run her burners this hot without exploding. “Rrrrrrrrrrr!” She beat her forehooves against her massive stomach, like a filly throwing a temper tantrum, and the ripples across her swollen mass just pushed her to greater heights of unbearable pleasure.

“Gruuuhhhh!” Pinkie desperately clenched her core, squeezing Twilight’s horn tightly, again. And that set Twilight off, again.

“Aaaaaaaugh!” Twilight squeezed Pinkie’s backside and rammed her horn all the way in, one last time. Thaumoplasm flooded out; Twilight’s entire reserve of magical power—the largest of any living unicorn—was converting to semi-solid form and filling Pinkie larger and larger. Both ponies rose into the air, twice Pinkie’s normal height, then three times, as Twilight’s magic filled her belly larger and larger. That pink gut spread outward, completely covering the floor rug and continuing to grow.

“Oh, come ooooooooooon!” Pinkie moaned, writhing and bucking helplessly as her stomach ballooned underneath. Her arousal grew just as rapidly as she did, easily keeping pace with the gallons of love-infused magic pumping into her. Her pleasure increased exponentially as she inflated to four times her normal height—as her slime-filled belly began to push her bed and her couch across the floor. She was figuratively drowning in an ocean of pleasure, and literally sloshing atop a lake’s worth of slime in her belly. Yet satisfaction still eluded Pinkie.

If, before, Pinkie were a party cannon with its fuse cut short a second before it could fire, now she was that same cannon packed even fuller—packed with more powder and party supplies than could logically fit inside—with a lit match held just close enough to her fuse stub to taunt her. Every inch she grew, every ounce of magic slime that filled her, pushed Pinkie to stratospheric new heights of arousal, yet Twilight’s unconscious magic kept Pinkie’s climax maddeningly out of reach.

Pinkie squeezed her distended gut between her forehooves, then buried her face in it, muffling her moans of unbearable pleasure. Her bloating belly covered over half of her room’s floor space now, and was still expanding. It had pushed her bed all the way against the wall, and now it spread over the mattress and bulged against the bedposts. On the other side, Pinkie’s couch groaned ominously, trapped between her inflating gut and the wall. On the third side, her immense stomach was beginning to squish against her wardrobe. Pinkie and Twilight, riding atop her belly’s expansion, were almost as high as the loft above the bedroom.

Pinkie lifted her head and cried, “I can’t! I can’t…”

Twilight gave a long exhale and went completely limp. The magic slime from her horn slowed down and finally stopped.

And Pinkie finally orgasmed.

She felt an entire battery of party cannons firing in her brain. She could taste every color of the Rainboom—and several more colors that didn’t actually exist—and could see haunting music from another realm of reality. The sheer, overwhelming wonder obliterated her sense of self, and she experienced oneness with a higher plane of pure satisfaction.

In short, Pinkie climaxed so hard that it totally made up for the wait.

Pinkie arched her back, scrunched her eyes shut, and opened her mouth wide, yet no sound came out. She was a screamer—but fortunately for everypony within a two-mile radius, her cries of orgasmic bliss were so high-pitched that only dogs could hear her. Meanwhile, Pinkie’s nethers reflexively clenched Twilight’s horn, then squeezed in an unconscious rhythm—coaxing a few last gallons of thaumoplasm out of the barely conscious Twilight, and adding a few more inches to her own girth.

“...AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaughhhh..” Pinkie’s cry drifted back down to audible frequencies, then quieted to a pleased moan. She splayed completely limp upon her massive blob of a belly—which rippled at the motion—and let out a long sigh.

Inflated by Twilight’s magic, Pinkie had swollen to fill over two-thirds of her room’s volume. From atop her ballooned gut, she was level with her loft; underneath, she could feel her furniture trapped beneath her belly, digging into its bloated sides.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Twilight said in a dazed voice. She tried to stand up, but her legs shook too much, so she crawled forward instead. The enormous stomach jiggled with her every movement. “Heeeeeey. Pinkie.”

“Whaaaaaat?” Pinkie answered.

Twilight settled on Pinkie’s right side, their shoulders and haunches brushing, and she sank a few inches into the sloshing belly underneath. Her forehead was smeared with Pinkie’s juices, which made her mane stick up in places. Pinkie couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, and Twilight laughed right back.

When Pinkie stopped laughing, she nuzzled her girlfriend. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Don’t remember,” Twilight said.

She glanced around, surveying the rippling curves of pink belly that stretched to nearly every wall. “Hey, know what would really hit the spot?” Twilight turned back to Pinkie, with another dopey smile on her face. “Those cookies you made. Did you see where they went?”