Pinkie Pie had found herself in a particularly puzzling predicament.

She was sure she was supposed to be in trouble. And not just big trouble, oh no no. Pinkie Pie was sure that this was the biggest trouble she had been in since she had convinced Mayor Mare to let the Yaks host their Wrestling Roadshow in the rare china and antiques warehouse in the centre of Ponyville. It was the type of trouble that wandering minstrels would sing about for years to come, while parents used it to warn their foals through sneaky messages inside bedtime stories.

The moral of the story being: Never, ever, ever prevent Princess Celestia from enjoying her cake.

A low whimper escaped her lips. It was meant to have been a nice surprise, that was all—just a bit of fun. After all, Princess Celestia had at least some control over most things in the land; having something unexpected happen was surely just putting a bit of variety into her life. So when she had leapt from the strawberry filled, strawberry frosted, triple strawberry sponge (with edible strawberry strawberries) cake during the climax of Princess Celestia’s birthday speech, Pinkie had expected gasps of amazement, maybe one or two of shock, followed by raucous laughter.

What she hadn’t expected was a ballroom full of appalled expressions, and the birthday mare—Celestia herself—looking as though she had temporarily hidden the sun inside of her skull.

Pinkie Pie didn’t know what they were all so upset for. It wasn’t as though they were the ones who had spent a week making the cake.

But there was no way she would have told Princess Celestia that, though. The regal alicorn had looked as though she had murder in mind, the undulations of her mane putting Pinkie in mind of the sea during a storm. Her eyes had moved from Pinkie to the cake, and then back again, before she raised two slender, white forelegs and clopped her hooves together.

The guards had appeared with a suddenness that had actually made Pinkie feel a little envious, but before she could ask them for tips they had dragged her away—gown and party streamers trailing—into Celestia’s personal chambers. Moments later, the princess had stomped in behind them, eyes flashing and nostrils flaring.

Pinkie Pie had wasted no time in declaring that she knew exactly how much trouble she was in. Of course, it was hard to look contrite when you had strawberry jam dribbling out of your ears and strawberry icing running from your muzzle down to your trembling legs, but Pinkie Pie certainly gave it the old college try.

She groaned, Celestia’s unreadable expression and the scalding scrutiny of her eyes returning to the surface of her thoughts. She remembered the brusque manner in which the princess dismissed her guards before returning her gaze back to Pinkie. She remembered the way Celestia’s chest swelled as she took a deep, shaky breath, and she remembered her licking her lips..

Pinkie Pie didn’t remember what happened after that, but she liked where it had ended up

“P—Princess, I think you missed a—ah—spot!”

She very much doubted that the strawberry jam had ended up anywhere even remotely near her pussy, but she had been crouched in that cake for a good hour or two so who knew? And it didn’t seem as though Celestia was going to call her out on it, the princess again dipping her crowned head and pressing her tongue up and into Pinkie’s folds in sharp, rapid flicks.

Pinkie shivered from her ears to her hooves. It felt sooooo good! She just wanted to wrap her hind legs around Celestia’s neck and pull her muzzle deeper inside. But the last time she had attempted it, Celestia had given her a stare that would have curdled milk.

So instead, she focused her attention on Celestia’s own marehood, positioned just inches above her face, her lust running free and dripping down onto Pinkie’s muzzle. Although Celestia had been insistent that Pinkie just lie on the bed and take her punishment, her growing excitement had obviously weakened her regal resolve; her tail, initially teasing Pinkie as it moved like the tide across her muzzle, gradually lifted and shifted until her labia, and all that it concealed, was framed with blues and greens and pinks.

Running a tongue across her damp muzzle, Pinkie ground her hooves into the luxurious bedsheets as she savoured the sweet-sour tang. The scent of Celestia’s growing desire had already been enough to send her head into a spin, but the near electric taste of it was even better. Lifting her head, Pinkie tracked a series of needy kisses up the princess’s elegant thigh, and from there across her outer lips, murmuring appreciative noises and whispers against her skin.

Celestia’s breathing became heavy, and she lowered her flank—and her pussy—towards Pinkie Pie’s affections. Pinkie needed no further invitation, her eyes closing in pleasure as she pressed her muzzle deeper, nuzzling Celestia’s clit and eliciting another grunt of desire from the older mare. Pinkie barely heard it, so entranced was she in teasing that glistening nectar-soaked cherry. She could feel Celestia’s lust soak into her coat, and whickered in delight at the sensation, of being marked by the princess. She was aware of her own desire growing, and opened her hind legs wider, silently pleading for Celestia to take advantage of her self-imposed vulnerability.

Celestia lifted her head then, much to Pinkie’s dismay, and looked over her shoulder. Her mane was static, pressed tight against the side of her head with sweat and Pinkie’s own juices, and her magenta eyes were hooded. A smile drifted across her lips.

“I think somepony is making unreasonable demands of her princess,” she said, the huskiness of her voice making Pinkie’s heart flutter. “And on her birthday too. Especially considering you haven’t given me anything yet. Not even a cake.”

“But I haaaave,” Pinkie groaned, trying to hold Celestia’s gaze but struggling to maintain clarity as the frustration built within her. “In a—ah—a manner of speaking, that is.”

“Mm, perhaps,” Celestia hummed. She lowered her head again, her breath hot and prickling against Pinkie’s skin. “Should I have another slice, then?”

“Yessss!” Pinkie Pie writhed beneath weight of the older mare, the muscles in her hind legs becoming taut as she pressed her hooves into the bed. She had never before felt this way—not with any pony she had climbed into bed with. Or climbed under the bed with. From the moment Celestia had pounced on her, she had been teased and tickled and licked and kissed until her whole body was feverish with desire and screaming for release.

She screamed out in wordless joy as Celestia began to give it to her; her royal tongue twisted in tight shapes, her slender, white hooves spreading Pinkie’s lips and trailing gentle circles around her most sensitive parts. She arched her back, desperate to keep this union between them as complete as it was now.

Except, it wasn’t complete, was it? Pinkie opened her eyes as a thought cut through the fog of her lust. Celestia really was giving her a lot, wasn’t she? And there she was just taking it all like a little ol’ greedy guts, without offering much back. No, she knew she was better than that. She wanted Celestia to be happy too—after all, it was her birthday.

Reaching up, she wrapped her forelegs around Celestia’s toned, firm flank, and pulled her down onto her face. Pinkie giggled with pleasure as the tangy musk enveloped her. Pa had made sure that she had gone to business school once she had reached an age where she might be inclined to set one up. Pinkie remembered being told constantly there to ‘pluck that low hanging fruit’, and so that was exactly what she did now. Gently though; she knew from experience how easily cherries could bruise. Cherry Berry still hadn’t forgiven her for putting her hoof where she had that night, even though it had been years ago.

Celestia moaned as Pinkie spread her lips with her hooves, caressing every part of her marehood with nips and licks and kisses. Her muzzle was soaked with the princess’s juices, the coat of her face and neck slicked into jagged spikes as she dipped and raised her head, falling in line with the rhythms of her hips. She felt something building within her—something potent and electric—and attacked Celestia with increased vigor, giggling into Celestia’s pussy as she felt its walls tighten around her tongue. The sound of her muffled laugh seemed to drive Celestia wild, the older mare’s tail thrashing against the bed as she uttered breathy curses into the warm, musky air.

Then it was Pinkie’s turn to cry out, her eyes wide and rolling as Celestia began to fuck her with her tongue. No longer content with caressing licks, she was now pumping it in and out of her pussy in savage bursts, the hoof pressing circles around her clit becoming more insistent, more rapid in its movements. She could hear Celestia’s mewling sounds of pleasure, her voice brittle and sharp as her body started to tense and twitch. It drove Pinkie on, her tongue whipping deep as she felt the pressure within her build to near brain-melting levels. She gasped and moaned as she lapped at Celestia’s flowing juices, one hoof moving further up to trace delicate lines from her marehood to her dock.

The a thought came to her, a thought that made her giggle. She had been completely focused on the motion of Celestia’s tongue as it brought her closer and closer to release, and it turned out to be a short jump between that and the thought of Celestia licking an ice cream on a warm summer’s day. The question that quickly resulted from that particular thought seemed natural enough.

What flavour would Pinkie’s pussy be if it were an ice cream?

But that wasn’t the right question to ask the pony who was mouth-fucking you, was it?

An unrelenting surge of pleasure pushed up into her brain, her vision exploding in white lights as Celestia attacked again and again, moaning into her pussy as Pinkie’s body bucked and twitched. Pinkie’s eyes rolled back into her head as warmth smothered her senses, her tongue and hooves moving on instinct alone as they brought Celestia closer to the edge.

“P—Princess,” she gasped, her tail whipping a plea against the bedsheets. “Princess!”

“Are you about to come?” Celestia purred against her clit. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re about to come all over your princess’s face?”

“I just, I just want—” Pinkie gasped as her body was consumed by fire, every muscle in her body stretching and contorting. She focused on Celestia’s pussy, a lighthouse at the centre of a violent ocean.

“You can, you know,” Celestia gasped, her hoof rubbing an even more insistent refrain. Her breath was hot as she practically spat out the words. “Just this once, I will allow you to come on me, Pinkie Pie.”

“But—” The words were like the biggest sugar rush Pinkie had ever experienced. She felt her desire bubble over as Celestia’s walls tightened around her tongue. Princess Celestia—Celestia—wanted her. She wanted her to come—

“I’m—ah—going to come too!” Celestia shuddered, her forelegs wrapping tightly around Pinkie’s hind ones. “Defile your princess, Pinkie Pie. Now! Mark me as your own. I want it!”

Pinkie’s ears twitched as the command reached them, and her desire finally burst free.

“Buttttt what flavour aaaaaaammm IIIIIIIIIIII?” she cried as the orgasm rocked her body.

Celestia had just enough time to utter a startled “What?” before Pinkie thrust herself against the older mare’s muzzle. She moaned in satisfaction as her face was soaked in Pinkie’s release, her body tightening like a spring before it finally erupted under the frantic ministrations of the younger mare.

Pinkie fell back against the bed, spent. Her limbs were trembling, and her breath was falling out of her in rapid gasps. Although the fire had finally been doused from her body, it had left behind the most delightfully warm embers, and the young mare groaned as she cherished the fleeting sensations.

She felt movement then, and opened her eyes to see Celestia’s face inches from her own. The smile on her face was tender, though her eyes still smoldered. Pinkie felt the rhythm of her heart start to speed up again, her cheeks becoming warm under the scrutiny.

After a moment, Celestia dipped her head closer. “So, why don’t you tell me,” she murmured.

Pinkie stared at her for a long moment, and then the penny dropped. Gently placing her hooves on Celestia’s cheeks, she lifted her head towards her. Her lips were parted by her tongue, which she trailed up the underside of Celestia’s muzzle and up against her lips. Pinkie’s mouth was filled with the taste of her own rich sweetness, along with something much more fruity, and the combined taste sparked a fresh heat within her.

“Huh,” she said. “It really did get everywhere.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Celestia flopped down on the bed, wrapping her forelegs around Pinkie’s heaving chest and drawing her into an embrace. She could feel the older mare’s heart beating strong against her back, and the sensation of it gradually slowing down made both her eyes and limbs feel heavy. Placing her forelegs on top of Celestia’s, Pinkie Pie snuggled close.

After a quiet moment, Celestia craned her head to Pinkie’s ear.

“For the record,” she whispered, “that is what you call being royally fucked.”

Author's Note

Thanks for reading what is, for all intents and purposes, my first foray into the world of pony porn. This was written off the back of a prompt challenge with some friends, and I set myself the target of not editing the story as I wrote it, something which usually sees me fall into deep pits of procrastination, over-analysis, and other self-doubting thoughts.

The original draft was written in an hour, and I spent another hour or so editing it up to a publishable standard. It's probably not up to the quality of some of my other stories, but this was all about learning to relax a little and have fun trying new things. If I entertained you in the process, then I'm delighted. I'm proud just to have completed this and published it.

This story also sparked the beginning of some serious ship-love. You'll be seeing some more Celestia x Pinkie Pie from me in the not-to-distant future.