Banging a Pornstar

by B_25

Rating: mature
Tags: Porn, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Rarity, Romance, Sex
Length: 13514

After a long day at work, all Spike wanted to do was jerk off to a porno of his best friend, Rarity. He wasn't expecting the pornstar to come knocking on his door.

Collab with An Intricate Disguise!

Spike, after a shitty day at work, retires to jerking off to his favourite porno. The star? None other than his love, Rarity, getting railed by another mare. Only, he wasn't expecting to meet the star of the show.

[More of a romance than a porn fic]

[My bad]

Published 2018-07-02 17:10:07 UTC
Last updated 2020-05-22 07:51:38 UTC

I | VHS Existed

Jerk to the Porn; Bang the Pornstar
B & AiD

The best thing about living alone was being able to jerk off in peace after a long, tiring day. Spike swung the door shut behind him with a swing of his tail, sighing a breath at relief now that he’d finally escaped the eye of the public. Acting professional, keeping up appearances, it was all pretty draining. Luckily, he knew the perfect way to unwind.

He’d often wondered how mares did it—a couple of glasses of wine, a few scented candles, freshly drawn bath… must’ve been annoying to put together. It was much simpler for him, all he needed was his couch, his widescreen, and a box of tissues. Maybe a beer or two if he was in the mood.

And after the fiasco work had been today? He was already at the fridge, picking out a couple of lagers, mentally running through his catalogue of frisky flicks. He already knew which one he was going to watch, of course, but he liked to give himself the illusion of choice.

He’d only really watched one of them since he picked it up, it made the rest look bland by comparison.

And that’s because it starred his best friend and longtime crush, Rarity.

A small sigh as he looked down at the cover—Rarity’s ass on full view as she ate out a cream coloured pegasus he didn’t know the name of—and his cock responded as if by anticipative instinct. He already knew what came next, the scenes imprinted on his mind.

But that still had nothing on the act of reliving them, envisioning himself there with her. Spike popped the tape into the VCR, glancing away as he hit rewind, not wanting to spoil the scene for himself with a bunch of disjointed, reversed motions.

When it had finally reached the beginning again, he hit play for what must have been the thousandth time. Spike’s hand was loosely grasped around his hardening shaft, eye narrowing to tunnel vision as he let himself be taken away by what appeared on the screen. The details of his apartment blurred into obscurity as he watched the camera pan in on Rarity, lounging on a sunbed, sand all around her.

The first scene was such a tease, she’d gently roll her body and run her hooves over her fur, softly gasping and twitching as she passed over multiple erogenous zones. Spike had always wondered if she put on the moans, if they were meant to get the viewer in the mood, but he was sure the later ones couldn’t have been faked.

She continued in this manner for a while, a skintight pair of stripey socks on her hind hooves, kicking her legs up and winking at the camera. Spike rolled his length between his claws, stiff and pulsing as he watched Rarity lick a forehoof and drag it down her body in the gentlest of teasing motions. The slick hoof pulled at her fur like a static shock, and Spike could feel one coursing through his own body at the sight alone.

Another moan from the screen, and he struggled to hold back his own. The camera tilted downwards, zooming and focusing on the mare’s plush, slappable cheeks, each partially covered by slim, purple lingerie. That wasn’t what finally got the moan out of him: it was the wet spot developing at the centre of her crotch.

Spike felt his cock twitch. Knowing teasing would get him no further, he stopped passing his length from one claw to the next. With steady determination, he wrapped the digits of his left claw around his base. He didn’t begin jerking right away, he knew better than to cut the show short.

Rarity relented in her rubbing, her gaze set on the camera, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted. There was a pant on her lips, half from exertion, half from exhilaration. Without breaking eye-contact with the viewer, she slid her hoof through the softness of her underbelly, bringing it lower and closer to exactly what Spike desperately wanted to see.

Her hoof pressed against the fabric of her lingerie, rubbing up and down over her crotch, over her wet-spot, along her concealed pussy. The idea of it, the suspense of the reveal—Spike had seen it all countless times, and yet, seeing his love grind her hoof, driving it along the smooth surface of her crotch, it never failed to get his claw stroking his cock in tandem, his jerks matching the ambient background beat.

Spike threw back his head with a moan of pleasure and resentment. Each stroke of his claw, agonizingly slow along his length, paying attention to each facet of it, demanded that he pick up the speed, that he tighten the grip along his girth—the base of his cock ached, and desperately wanted him to remedy the problem.

But that wouldn't be happening until Rarity took off her fucking panties.

And she did. By Celestia—and all other deities whose names aren’t to be uttered during masturbation—the unlikely pornstar’s hoof ceased in its motion, much like how he stopped his stroking. His cock twitched in displeasure, needing the opposite of that to be applied to it, now.

The aching worsened; the porno only got better.

Rarity rolled onto her side, moaning in surprise at her own action, giggling softly at the camera. Then, without missing a beat, her gaze settled on her flank, flicking between her doughy cheeks and the recording camera. He loved the way she admired herself, the confidence, the vanity. She knew she had an ass worth crying over.

Spike leaned back further into the couch, biting his bottom lip out of compulsive habit. Below, the tip of his dick oozed with pre, coating his length as it dribbled ever downward. Every twitch of his cock, every throb, it was a constant, horrible reminder of the burning inside him, of the release that demanded to be worked toward—resisting that urge brought about a strange sensation, one that built and welled outwards, growing to unbearable proportions: the only way to make get rid of it was to grip his dick and never let go.

Resisting temptation of finishing early was no easy feat, especially when Rarity was working her forehooves into each of her flanks, softly rubbing and kneading them together like fresh dough. A sudden gasp, a long moan, hooves pressing into flesh, rubbing against fur.

Fuck it. Spike gripped his cock and began jerking furiously, alleviating its aching, supplementing it with another sensation; one immeasurably superior to anything he’d felt before. He could feel theplushness of her flanks, how softand supplethey'd feel in his claws. He'd fill each of his palms with her cheeks, grabbing and slapping and slowly spreading them to reveal her tight cooch.

And just as quickly as the scene began, it had come to an end. The sudden and intensive jerking slowed down; Spike knew what came next. Rarity—feeling herself up until her cheeks were red—delivered a slap, soft but pronounced, along both of her flanks. The resulting sound almost made Spike cum there and then, but he held himself back if only for what came next.

Rarity rolled onto her back with a pant, raised her hind legs and rested on her flanks. Sticking out her tongue at the camera, she brought her forehooves back up to her ass, but instead of working them, she pulled against the lingerie, taut against her fur and her ass, beginning to push back the fabric.

The best part, and quite possibly, the worst part about Rarity was that everything she did was planned, that she knew exactly what the viewer wanted to see, and more importantly, how to keep that viewer on edge. Spike knew this better than any other viewer; most would have come before the underwear came off, but he switched from jerking to just squeezing his cock as sporadically as possible.

“Mmmhmm,” Rarity moaned from the screen, pouting her lips. “Oh my, now isn't this a problem?” Her embarrassed gaze settled on the viewer, on Spike, as she phrased her shame. “It would appear my flanks are rather large for my choice of clothing.” She batted her eyelashes. “However will I get this fabric off of me?” Her voice dripped violet voracity, her voluptuous curves vivaciously shaking as Spike verged on volcanic eruption.

A soft, dulcet voice from off-screen answered: “How about I help with that? I don’t have a horn like you, but these wings are pretty damn capable...”

Spike had always been jealous of mares for the sole fact of them being mares. The things he would do while in their bodies, the things he would do to other mares bodies—thinking about the possibility were always worth a wanking session, but none of them, not even one, compared to the jealousy he felt toward the pegasus that appeared on the screen.

The lucky mare that got to fuckhis Rarity.

The viewer didn't see her face at first, but instead, they were treated to her cream-coated backside. Rarity, faking surprise, nodded her head, and in a second, the pegasus had settled down between the former's legs, letting her wings flare open, their tips coming into contact with Rarity’s luscious cheeks.

“Hmm...” The pegasus slipped the tips of her wings beneath the fabric, pressing against her white fur and pushing against the lingerie. Her muzzle wrinkled. “Looks like somepony was having fun in the sun.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s enough fun to be had for two, darling.” Rarity's crotch was revealed to the camera once again, only this time, because the lingerie was taut, thanks to the wings pulling them back, the lips of Rarity's pussy, puffy and soft, pressed against the fabric, perfectly outlining themselves to the viewer.

Spike could handle the occasional touch. He brought his claw to his tip, squeezing non-stop as the pussy pushed harder and grew wetter on the screen; he ran the pre over his hands, lathering it from base to tip.

“Hmm.” The pegasus rose from between the unicorn's legs. “Seems your swimsuit is too small for your flanks.” She shifted to the side, arching an eyebrow, brown tail flicking back and forth. “Any reason for that?”

“Darling, do yourself a favor and drop this act before it even begins.” Rarity arched her body, wiggling her posterior, swaying her flanks ever so slightly. “I can tell by your eyes alone that my flanks are a trait to be admired, a trick only accomplished by going a size below.” The hint of a smirk on her lips, she turned to face her visitor. “Now, are you going to undress me or not?”

Spike yelped as his claw went an inch lower than before, teetering on the edge of climax. To his eyes and to his dick, Rarity was perfection—both in body and personality. She was such a tease, that was sure, but the only thing that made the sensation unbearable was the fact that she knew it.

Rarity knew she was a fucking tease, that she was springing these little games, and what was worse was that she still played along—playing the victim to the plans she concocted. She was always a step ahead, even when she pretended to lag behind, and that quality, that feminine superiority was enough to subdue even the most confident stallion, dragon, or heck, mare.

“Now then,” Rarity began, “while the tips of your wings feel divine on my flanks, I'm afraid they're just not going to do the trick.” She shook her head and smirked for the camera. “No, no. You'll simply have to use your teeth instead.”

The pegasus blinked at the request, but after a few silent seconds, nodded her head anyway. She began to slip back the tips of her wings, but was stopped when hooves held them down, looking up at the unicorn.

“Why are you taking away your wings?” Rarity asked, not intending to wait for a response. “I said use your teeth, darling.” Her head fell back, resting into the sand. “You may resume helping me.”

Spike wanted to chuckle as his jerks were stretching further and he was gripping harder—if anypony else spoke to him in such a way, he'd let them see the edge of his fangs before replying, letting them know exactly whowas in charge. But with Rarity? Nothing got him hotter.

The pegasus obviously felt the same way, for she dove straight in without restraint. She parted her lips and gripped the edge of the fabric with her teeth, lightly tugging at them, much to the enjoyment of their owner as she worked them down her hind legs.

It was time for the reveal, for the main event, for the “holy fuck I can finally start beating off again” moment. Rarity, head pushed back, softly crying out, had the full globe of her flanks slowly being revealed, slowly being freed as another mare tugged away at the single item of clothing that kept her modest.

Once the lingerie was pulled half-way down her flank, there was a noticeable bounce as the flesh of her ass jiggled and shook, a ripple coursing through her fur, causing Spike to go from jogging to sprinting.

Then, only a few seconds later, the lingerie slipped off the Rarity's backside, stretched by her parted and raised legs. Below and between them, finally free and in the open wind, her pussy was exhibited to the camera, the fur of her vulva slick from her juices.

It was a sight that never got old. It never failed to blow Spike's mind—he’d never expected to even see the bare crotch of his love, not to mention her pussydripping with juices. It looked better than any of his vague fantasies could muster, and the sight of it always sent his claw into full turbo, whether he wanted to go over the edge or not.

“Bringing the water to the sand, are you?” The pegasus teased while pulling the lingerie from between Rarity’s legs, finally pulling them off and tossing them to the side. She looked back down at her, stealing a glance at the treasure between her legs. “I don't suppose you'll be needing help with something else, will you?”

Rarity raised her head. “Do the same thing again,” she instructed while tilting her muzzle, “but this time, use your tongue instead.” And just like that, without any shame or suspense, let her head plop back on the sand, calmly awaiting what came next.

Spike never understood the hesitation here: were it him, he'd be on his knees in a second, and with his serpent-like tongue, would explore every inch of Rarity's most intimate areas. He'd have to live through the pegasus for that fantasy, for she too had fallen on four of her legs, raising her barrel enough for the camera to display under it and through her legs, where Rarity’s crotch was still on full display.

Then, pushing out her own covered flanks, the pegasus ducked her head underneath her barrel, shooting a sultry, knowing smile at the camera. Afterwards, with a lick at her lips, she stuck her muzzle at the entrance of Rarity's pussy, and in sticking out her tongue, began to lap around and against her tight hole, swirling motions and soft breaths against her as she flicked her tongue around and around.

She moaned at the taste; Rarity moaned at the sensuality, the feeling of being eaten out.

Spike had to bite his bottom lip to hold back his moans, to hold back his pleasure, to keep him in the game for just a tad longer. His body was limp along the couch, his legs spread and feet held by the floor; something was building in the base of his cock, that prevented him from stopping until its need was satisfied.

There was always something about this scene, this very moment that expedited the process for him—the director, or whoever captured the shot, was a genius. The picture consisted of the pegasus, arching her back in the fashion of a cat, her ass pushed out, her bikini-bottom struggling to keep her flanks together; the top of her fuzzy crack caught by the camera.

Between the pegasus’ legs, her muzzle was buried between his love's folds, her tongue lapping away inside Rarity's pussy, who moaned and squealed like a little sub, even if she wasn’t displaying any of those signs. It only took a few more moments for juices to start dribbling down onto the cream pegasus’ lips, coating her muzzle as she continued her work.

Spike was thankful for his previous efforts. He felt himself in the same state of Rarity, of nearing their climaxes, of someone or something going to work on their pussy or cock to bring them to their personal nirvana. Even if he couldn't form a connection with the mare in real life, he could at least experience these things with her, get off with her.

Then he noticed it, at the corner of his eye, a similar wet-spot developing at the crotch of the pegasus's swimwear. He tried to never give her too much credit, to keep his eyes steady on the body of his love, but as attraction went, he had to give a few jerks in devotion to the winged-pony's slim body, she really was something.

“Mmhmm. Darling.” Rarity's head rose once more, only this time, enough to see along her lover's underbelly. “Seems like you're enduring an accident akin to mine. Heed my advice and go bare.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” the pegasus replied as she slipped her muzzle back from the mare's folds. They were slick and dripping, flowing with desire. “Being able to see and grab flanks other than your own, to taste what I’ve got down there. What makes you think you should get a chance?”

“Because you'll get to touch more of mine,” Rarity replied without missing a beat, “and we'll be able to remedy each other's accidents once we finish.” She cast a glance to the waves that crashed in the background. “Or you could cool yourself in the water, if that's the way you'd rather finish.”

Control. No matter the location or her condition, Rarity managed to always to keep herself in power, to have the other pony in a state where they had to please her, and not the other way around. The pegasus knew better than to pretend that she had a choice in the matter, and in flaring out her wings, slipped each of her tips underneath the fabric of her swimwear.

It was much easier to get off, mainly because there was no fucking teasing involved.

“My my, wasn't that easy?” came Rarity's voice, but Spike was too focused on the slowly revealing backside of the pegasus to look at his love's face. The pegasus had a nice ass, not nearly as big or as round as the unicorn, but it was more proportionate to the rest of her body, not to mention firmer.

“That's because I don't dress to impress,” the pegasus replied, and in tossing aside the fabric on her left wing, took a step over Rarity's raised hind legs. “I act to appease needy little mares.” Then, without confirmation, she dropped ass atop of Rarity's crotch, slamming their pussies together. “Ones such as yourself, miss.”

“You planning to take me for a ride?” Rarity purred, eyes scrunching shut as the pegasus righted herself atop her, sitting up with her wings spread, tail draped over Rarity’s thighs entwined with her own. She began to rock back and forth, slowly pressing their wet folds together, and the sound of it was accompanied by conjoined moans from each of them, the pegasus leading and steadily picking up the pace.

This was the part that Spike had never managed to make it past, his breaking point. He was jerking like crazy, teetering on the edge of oblivion as he watched their soft, tight bodies glide, his solitary thought the idea of sliding his cock between those two pussies and being massaged by each of them as their owners made out with each side of his neck…

...Imagine his surprise when his reverie was broken by a loud knock at the door.

“Fuck!” Spike gripped his cock so hard it almost hurt to keep himself from cumming, stilling his entire body and knowing that if he so much as moved, he’d shoot his load all over his living room. Realising the the film was still playing, that the sounds of Rarity and her partner were blaring out at a loud volume, he fumbled for the remote, looking to shut the thing off before whoever was at the door bore witness.

Where was the fucking remote?! Why was it that of all times, now was when it chose to disappear on him? The sounds from the television, the panic, the still rock hard cock between his legs, the increasingly insistent thudding of a hoof against the door, what the fuck was he meant to do?

“I, uhh.. Fuck. Coming!” That’s exactly what he was meant to be doing, at least. Scowling, Spike searched and searched from the remote, trying to ignore the perfect scene that was still playing out before him.

Still no luck. Why did the gods hate him so? He looked down at his still stiff cock, knowing that he’d have to answer the door soon. He’d already made it clear that he was in, after all. Why hadn’t he just pretended to not be home?

His cock didn’t seem content to acquiesce his need for flaccidity, no matter how many times he batted it with his hand. “Grr, go away!”

Another look at the screen, another twitch from downstairs. “Look, I know you want that, we both do, but later!”

Still, his body refused to listen. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. “GrannySmithGrannySmithGrannySmithGrannySmithandheroldmarefriends.” Worked like a charm, always did, and his cock began to retract into his sheath.

Still nothing he could do about the porn without finding the remote, but he could only hope the visitor wouldn’t hear it.

Walking out into the hallway, doing his best to put on a genuine smile, he pressed his eye against the peephole, curious as to who had seen fit to distract him from his good time.

A snow white pornstar stood on the other side.

Author's Note

Have I ever mentioned that I co-run a Discord server? Join here for chats, memes, and various content!

II | Important Things Never Change

~ II ~

Important Things Never Change

Spike had always possessed the unique superpower of choking on nothing, and by default, on himself the second tension struck. His body smacked into the door, and did so once more, a smack of the forehead to clear the mind behind it.

“It would appear as though you are home, darling.” Rarity's voice floated through the door with that sing-sing effect coating its words. Regardless of the years, she did not change—aspects of her beauty now more refined. “But you are not supposed to knock in return. Unless this is some sort of game we are playing?”

“No game! No game.” Spike turned and planted his back on the frame, resting his head the same, looking to the ceiling. Why the freak out over the visit of a friend? It was just Rarity. A friend not seen for maybe a year. “Door's slightly busted. Have to fiddle with the bulk to get it back into the frame.” He swallowed. “Better now.”

“Is that so? I'm glad to hear it.” There was the shuffling of hoofsteps outside the door as anxiety rose in the air between them. “I don't suppose it's well enough to be opened now? It's not my intent to barge in on you if you're otherwise occupied.”

“No life! No life at all! Got nothing going on in here.” Spike blinked and then squeezed his eyes shut as if that would hide him from the current state of his world. He also wished to plug his ears to avoid hearing the response to his stupid words. “I mean. Was just finishing up with one thing or another. Just... gimme a sec.”

Spike inhaled slowly and exhaled sharply. Slowly he stepped away from the door and turned, coming to grip the handle, turning it, allowing the squeak to ring in complete. The wood of the frame pulled back as the hallway revealed itself from the other side.

And down below stood his mare.

“Hey Rarity.” He rested the side of his head onto the arch, doing his best to smile, a face worn after surviving a panic attack. How easily something so wonderful could then make him feel terrible. “I uh... s-sorry about that. Y-Y'know how I am... when I haven't seen anyone in a while... when I haven't seen you in a while and I...”

His eyes closed and his head tilted across the frame as if to escape saying his previous words. “And I wasn't supposed to say that last part.” He cleared his chest with a cough, came to stand straight. His claw was offered down to the mare. “It's good to see you again, Rarity.”

Nothing grasped his claw, and suddenly, the dragon was right to feel alarmed.

His eyes peeled open to gaze down at the white mare. She stood no taller than his waist and wore an expression of confused beauty. Her gaze was set only on him, taken by him, immersed in his every detail. What was she thinking? What was she feeling? Her confusion of the last few seconds must have been unreal.

“It's good to see you again as well.” Rarity dainty offered her hoof onto the palm, allowing its weight to sink into it, forcing him to carry its weight. It allowed him to legitimately hold her in that regard. “To think my fears in that elevator were naught but tricks of the mind after all.”

“Fears?”

“Oh why yes! It has been nearly a year since we all gathered for that party? How much you were starting to change back then—everyone was and everyone since has.” Rarity shook her head without pulling back her foreleg. “I'm rather sad to admit I lost touch with most of the girls back home. You danced in my mind due to another reason entirely. I've heard a lot about you throughout the city.”

Spike clenched his eye and turned his head. “That so?”

“It seems like you're worried about it being good things or bad things.”

He shrugged. “Depends on who you talk to.”

“But is that not always the case? No matter whom I spoke to, however, the stakes felt the same.” Rarity looked up into his eyes, the blue of her own, glowing, faintly, in a way drawing him into the richness of space contained within her irises. “That you had changed. In height and status and demeanour. Owning your lodgings and following your path through life. I feared you were a different dragon.”

Spike swallowed. “And am I?”

“Seeing as how my appearance is still enough to throw you through a loop? I feel right at home in calling you my Spikey-Wikey.” Rarity's smile was genuine as her eyes closed, and slowly, her hoof pulled back and down to the floor. “Little things about you have changed. For the better I must say. But the important bits? They have remained forever the same.”

Spike could only respond by allowing his body to lean and drape over the frame of the opening, barely able to hold himself up as the tension faded from his body... leaving him in a release. One much like he was supposed to enjoy moments prior. But this one was nicer in a way. “Oh Rarity. You know you can kill me like that.”

“Whaaaat? But that's hardly my fault!” Rarity stepped back with a smirk furnished to her muzzle. With a faint waving of a hoof, she pointed it at him. “You're the one that evaluates me from mare to some kind of goddess. When you view me simply as a friend, you are never stressed, that is, until you revert to the previous state—and I have to bring you back in by appearing as anypony else.”

“But you're not anypony else.”

Rarity couldn't fight the blush from her cheeks even without intent in his words. “And that you are right. Glad to see this mare still holds a place in that large heart of yours.” She then shook her head. “But I don't suppose your friend could come inside and chat for a while? Unless, of course, something in that 'no life' of yours calls for this to occur at a later time.”

Spike dropped his head in defeat, but his arm still gestured at his belly, offering the way inside. “After you, milady.”

There'd been a mental checklist that appeared—a process born, of course, from living with Twilight—to make it out of this situation alive. Watching the mare as she entered the room, the dragon couldn't help but notice the slowness to her step, a pronunciation to her sway, her flanks, supple and plush, subtle in their shifting.

One rising over the other, walls meshing together, the softness of white blanking the male's mind. He shook his head and cursed the other tucked away. It was exactly because of that ass he so admired that his scales were still about to be hung up.

As the porno of the same mare played in the other room.

“You can take a seat on the stool over there.” He gestured to the set before the high-rise table, one in the middle of the kitchen. Entering the lane on the other side, he came to the stove, a kettle with water already present. Perfect. “I'll get the water boiling and a few other things going. Just... wait here a second? Left a movie playing in the other room.”

And from that other room broke a moan, soft and loud and heavenly, enough to cause the mare to perk her ears. Rarity gazed off to the hall where that room loomed. Then her head turned to him, expression bemused.

“I don't even want to hear it from you.” Spike shook his head as he came around the counter, starting for the room. Her gaze was still on him. His head turned to meet it. “I was watching a movie before you came in. Just my luck, isn't it? Haven't seen my former crush in over a year... and the one time she comes to visit? A sex scene happens in the background. Typical.”

Rarity turned on the stool as she leaned into its back, the plushness of her ass spilling across the seat—nearly going overboard. Spike had wanted to be that stool in that second. To feel that silk and that smoothness that supplement the softness of the tush that mare towed around. He turned his head, exhaling the heat rising within him.

“Mmhm! Indeed! The usual luck for my Spike—is it not?” Rarity giggled from afar as the stool squeaked from beneath her. The weight placed in all the right places. The mare never ceased to be perfect in all regards possible. “Relax my dear. I did not mean to tease you so much and so early into our encounter again. Somehow you bring it so easily upon yourself. And sometimes a lady cannot help herself.”

“R-Right.”

“Now go!” He could feel the swatting of her hooves from behind him. “Shoo! Or else you'll lose what part of the movie you're at.”

The irony.

No sooner did the bedroom door open that it shut again. Firm close and a guaranteed lock. He felt more in the zone this time. That mare hadn't changed. Still as perfect and commanding and control of him as ever. But the friend beneath the mare was still there. There for him. She teased him with her allure while still being the friend he could talk about that allure with. How it made me him. Those moments of weakness. The past flooding into the present within seconds.

The same with the moans of so many years ago.

“Enough with you.” Spike's feet passed over the fibres of the flooring and came before the screen, a duck to a knee to be at level with the screen. Swiping the dust of the stand to black glass beneath helped him not. No matter how much he squinted... he couldn't find the buttons for anything. “The curse of T.V.s. You never know where the buttons are.”

His arm reached around the screen until his digits brushed across a cable. He grabbed and yanked it out. The screen died with the tape ejecting. Power was lost to it all. The cord was loosely tossed to the side. “Or you never know what they do... damn.”

He shook his head. “Why didn't I just unplug it all?”

By the time he found himself outside the bedroom again, the mare was already in the kitchen, forelegs up on the stove, her horn, aglow, in a magical blue. Two mugs stood before her, the kettle suspended and tilted via her suspension. She filled each of them up.

“Choose wisely in your pick of where to admire me,” Rarity said without turning her head, the back of her body exposed. She pranced in the spot in getting the levels within the cups just right. “The lecherous line is rather thin. Gazing into my mane is no sin. Set much lower than that, however—“

“You can relax.” Spike strolled to the stools and took a seat—realizing it was warm. Very warm. The kind of scented warmth that only a female could leave. Blushes spread across his cheeks. He planted them into his palms to save them... having leaned his elbows on the counter. “Your hindquarters are safe from all nearby lecherous eyes.”

“Is that so?”

“I'll knock out the first to make that attempt.”

“And if that is yourself?”

“I'll knock myself off to protect your honour.”

“Sounding more and more like my boy the more we talk.” Rarity leaned back from the stove upon returning the kettle to its place. She turned as her forehooves met the floor again. Either side of her muzzle floated their drinks. “Unable to resit about what is natural within. Yet always willing to do something about it. This lady is thankful to have her flanks safe under your protection.”

One of the mugs flew toward him, bobbing, caught within the blue aura. “Here is your reward. Taken from your stock.” She scampered onto the stool on her side, the sight of her plush body fighting to get on.. strangely attractive. It wasn't often one saw a lady struggle like a kitty. “T-Though... that h-hardly... identifies as a reward now.”

Rarity settled into her seat and regained her composure, sitting on all four legs, each tucked close together. Her cup lowered to her lips as if to cover the rising shame of the last few seconds. More than a pant was heard from the exertion.

“It's still a reward if it's made with love.”

Spike looked into his drink before taking a sip, looking at his face. It changed. Larger but slender than before. Scales coming in patches across his jaw reminded him of facial hair on a stallion. He looked more rugged now.

Yet his expression was that of the kid that never left him.

Maybe something remained the same after all.

“Bold of you to assume that I made these in any special way.”

“You didn't?”

“But of course I did.” Rarity lowered her muzzle into her cup as well. “It would be rude to scavenge your cabinets and not use what I found with love to excuse that fact.”

“So it's not made with love because it was made for me,” Spike replied from taking a sip and was held from doing so again seconds after the fact. Sugar mixed with honey tinged with early grey. The perfection combination loosened sweetness across his tongue. “But because you felt guilty for what you did.”

“Could it not be out of love and for guilt?”

“Is it?”

“That it was.” Rarity nodded with a smile. “Now drink up, Spike.”

Spike did as he was told and was taken away by the taste again. In a way it brought him back to the times before. The late afternoons of summer lost inside that boutique. They'd shut off the lights and allowed the dying sunlight to illuminate the place. The work was done and the orders had been finished. And it would be like how they were now.

“Doesn't this take you back?” the words came before he could think them, and maybe, they were better for it. “To those lazy afternoons? You and me and the day behind us. Just at that table, drinking our tea... not saying anything.”

He turned to look at her. Rarity had leaned her elbow onto the counter and rested her chin atop her sole. She gazed out the windows of the apartment, looking out to the city in the beyond, glimpsing at the sun's retreat over the mountains at the distance. “There were some occurrences we spoke.”

“Sometimes we never shut up.” Spike turned to be awash in the sunlight, which was at its brightest in the seconds before fading. There was a moral in that, somewhere. “But after getting through the day together... all we wanted was to be silent and alone... but with someone else there.”

He blinked as if saying something wrong and glanced at her. “Right?”

“Indeed.” Rarity gave an impression of a nod with her gaze set. “Always a worry in wondering if the other felt the same? But worry not. Even though at times you may not feel like it, on the whole, you and I are on the same wave-length.”

Spike chuckled as he gazed back to the ending of the current afternoon. “This is usually what we talked about too. Back then at least. I never talked so intimately with another like that. Still never did.”

“Not even in this city darling?” Rarity's head had turned and he couldn't do the same. “In this life now your own. No Twilight to boss you and no I to tease you. Surely you would have found your way by now?”

“No such luck I'm afraid.” Scratching the side of his head had been a tick that never went away. It was a part of him and always would be. No matter the changes to his body... some things really did stay the same. “Got the job and the home and the few friends to wreck the town with. Flirted with a few girls at work. But nothing... nothing has ever lived up to days in Ponyville.”

He swallowed as his eyes flicked down. “And no other has lived up to you.” He choked once more on nothing. “No creepiness meant.” He blinked. “I think saying things like that makes it more creepy.”

“Only a tad and never when it comes from you.” Rarity chortled in a way pushing her muzzle back. “It's touching to hear at the least. I'm still reminded of the days you withheld such things from me. You would have simply kept quiet after that slip and berated yourself intensely later for it.”

“Talking to my crush about all the things she puts me through.” Spike slowly shook his head and couldn't suppress the spreading smile on it. “It's a nice feeling though. Being able to be fully open. Even when I do wrong in front of you... I don't feel like I actually can do anything wrong.”

“Because I'm there to reassure and allow you to know a lady's reaction to such events—to improve yourself in the long-term.” Suddenly her eyes widened for a second. Laughter overtook her. The contained kind. A soft type. Every use of her voice was a melody. “My. I simply cannot believe it. We've fallen into our usual roles without even formally being reunited. Nothing has changed.”

Spike smirked after taking a sip of his tea. “Nothing has changed at all.”

And both were glad for it.

“Those were the days back then,” Rarity continued, “when all of us were still together. It's only natural that all of us would spread throughout the world. Yet I always had the impression you and I would be bound by a fate somehow. Or rather your intent in chasing me down.”

Spike looked back to the window... only to find the sun finally tucked behind the mountain. “I must have been so incessant for it to feel like that. Good thing I finally backed off after a while.” He looked over to her as sadness tingled in his eyes. “Right?”

Rarity did not say the word back.

III | Princess and Friend

~ III ~

Princess and Friend

Silence lingered in the air and that had caught the dragon's attention. Nothing really changed in the air. No window left open nor air condition turned on. Not a spray of perfume or anything at all to change the quality of the nearby oxygen. Rather it was the two changing what they breathed. What they felt now affected their perceptions of the qualities around them.

Rarity was on the other side of the counter and staring into her cup. Her reflection must have been on the surface as she struggled with her current expression. Sorrow that was bittersweet like the flavour of the tea.

“It's funny how the fate you speak of works out in the end.” Rarity's muzzle kept lowered and above the cup and, for the first time in her life, it seemed to shy to raise. Memories of Fluttershy fizzled in Spike's mind. “I've always been something of an empty mare. Maybe we're all empty in a particular way. But I was so, overall, drained with bits of dead.”

Spike opened his mouth to crack a joke but... once more the damned air hadn't felt right. His head turned and his eyes focused out the window. Down and gone was the sun as the orange glow bathing the streets ceased into darkness. His eyes burned, a subtle shade of green, the quality of kindness being their fuel. “It's because you're always either giving or investing yourself in something. All those dresses and concepts for events. You merge the natural beauty of someone, accentuating and maybe sometimes compensating, with your interpretation on how it all comes out.”

Rarity's smile reached an inch, but to Spike, it was always a mile. “You were always above the baseless compliments, weren't you? That reason you said. Was that the reason for my periods of emptiness?”

Spike turned back to the counter and laid his forearms across it, crossing them as he sunk onto their support, fully looking at the mare. Rarity's head turned too, away at first but, sensing his presence, beating her shyness and gazing to him as well.

“Maybe a reason,” he replied with a dip of his chin, “but not the reason. But I was there during those days. You were always infusing yourself into everything you did. You're inside all of the work you did. What you were feeling and thinking without maybe being conscious of them.”

He sighed. “So please don't say you were an empty mare.” His claw reached across the table and opened itself, a shadow of a hoof appearing over it, the digits twitching, waiting, as the hoof kept uncertain. It then dropped, held at once, a supporting squeeze to give the empty mare what she needed. “Anyone would be after that.”

“You always knew the right things to say... didn't you?” Rarity was looking straight into his eyes, she's blue and softly glowing too, the curls of her mane a pronounced beauty to the whole of a mare. Her coat was like snow as she as a whole was a natural wonder as well. “It's funny how we all change. In the moment and overall. Even you right now. I don't think you know what you've done right now.”

Spike blinked. His gaze trailed down to his arm. In his palm was Rarity's hoof, resting there, warm and soft and fuzzy, a contact beyond pleasant he wanted to hold onto forever. But that was Rarity's hoof. Perfection had dropped into his imperfection. And that threatened everything for everyone.

He tried to pull back, but.

“Nu-uh-ah! You forgot about your fears to comfort me—and I am still not fully comfortable just yet.” Her hoof pressed into his palm and locked it there, twisting slightly, twitching the digits to clamp around it again. “Countless stallions would have held me and told me I was so full of passion or other such vagueness. But not you dear. You knew me well enough, cared to see deeply enough to know the truth of me.”

She smiled. “Those words of yours freed me in a sense that, even if I knew of that aspect of myself, I could never claim it. Sometimes parts of us have to be accepted and spoke for by others. But enough of that.”

Spike's heart kept beating faster as his chest clenched and stomach cramped. Rarity was holding his hoof as her other foreleg raised over the table. It brushed across the side of his wrist, a massage to hopefully relax it—doing anything but.

“In those days I prayed for a prince to take me away,” Rarity continued as her eyes were set on the claw she had captured, still stroking it, brought into mediation by it. “He would say all those things to me. So beautiful and full of passion. All of the things on the surface that are so easy to speak of. Yet I ascribed so much complexity to them.”

Spike kept his head up but his eyes went down. “And I could never be all that complex, could I?”

“That is anything but the truth.” Rarity kept her eyes lowered as well, the two looking at the connection, hoof in claw, claw holding hoof, one of those unable to move, the other comforting the former out from that state. “Back in those days, I would have set you for being a kid indulging in the crass and primitive. You were no such prince. Never could you compare my beauty to a season with the legality of a poetic royal.”

“Tried and failed in that regard.”

“But then you would say things as you did before, the reason for my feelings of emptiness, that none else were privy to. Perhaps you said things in a goofy way. But you were always so genuine. The words you spoke were real. And soon they got me through the hardest of times.”

Spike couldn't help but smile and exhale. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. The burden of years had been released. “My thoughts and feelings weren't creepy then?”

“I wiped those kinds from you long ago.”

“Always my tutor on the way of mares.”

“Ladies, Spike.” He felt the narrowing of her eyes. “And don't you dare say same difference. There is a pronounced difference. Lacking to respect that—“

“Mean you fail to see the deeper intricacies some live their life within, and that lack of acknowledgement is a deep insult flung at another.” Spike dropped his head to look at her again. “Always paid attention. Just don't always show it on the surface.”

“Good boy.”

Spike broke out into a chuckle after that, a giggle coming from the mare, the air around them... thinning by the mirth. The duo joined together in looking out the window, seeing that night was here, and a mare keeping the same could imply an awful lot of things.

“In those days of emptiness,” Rarity began as their attention was still fixated outside of the glass, seeing the moon in the horizon, rising and casting its glow over the top of buildings. “It was those girls who filled me. Those girls and you. I work and strove to become worthy enough to have that fabled prince. But... it didn't work out.”

Spike turned his head to look further away, the weight of the reveal too much to keep up, feeling his body compress into himself. Sadness was his expression and the glow of his eyes became faint. What was all of this about? Where was all of this leading to?

“Oh Spike... if only you could know of the emptiness that came over me... when all of you went away...” Something stirred in his claw and, by the time he glanced back, the hoof pulled out from his palm. His digits closed over it at once, squeezing at nothing, already missing her. “The stores that opened and the majesty of the grand reveal. Days of dopamine to months of horrible solitude.”

Rarity had copied him in crossing her forelegs on the counter, sinking into them as her muzzle buried itself into the niche created, hiding away from something. “Standing beside a ribbon being cut to waves of ponies clapping. Power and status and wealth, nobility and the refined standing at my sides. None of it compared to a picnic on a hill with some friends. No date came close to the lazy summer afternoons I had with you.”

Then came the whimper. “I thought of those days as the buffer to reach where I am now, and yet, they are where I craved to be all along. No prince could ever compare to your goofy speeches about something so very true about me. Perhaps I'm making all of this about me. Such a selfish mare that I am.”

Her head shook within her crossed forelegs, frizzling her mane over so slightly, the start of everything becoming undone. “Oh Spike. How could you have ever fallen in love with a mare like me? The perfect was always on the surface. It was all I had to tease and have over you.”

Spike looked down at himself. His claw laid on his lap, shaking, unable to process the anxiety of his plan. In looking over to the mare, however, all that sat was an angel. Still she was perfect even in her moments of imperfections. No matter what way she did her mane, it would be gorgeous in his eyes.

The sigh that comes before courage was the price to pay in standing up. He came around the counter and, not knowing how to engage, wrapped his arms around the mare. Hugging her, he waited for the first struggle. Yet she snuggled into his arms like warm snow melting across his scales.

He hated himself for a dragon like him was undeserving to feel such perfection.

For he had prayed for a perfect prince to complete the fantasy he dreamed of for the mare.

IV | Rejection

~ IV ~

Rejection

Spike indulged himself in each and every sensation, the plushness of the coat and how it subtle flattened into his scales, a constant feeling of brushing warmth floating over his soul. There was something different about hugging a mare. Or maybe this one. Nothing could compare to her heat.

Slowly her head nuzzled upward, starting at his belly and ending over his chest, diving herself into the space beneath his jaw. It was there she rested for the moment as the silence ticked on longer than that. His heart was pacing, which she heard and felt, doubling the effect. He didn't break away in cowardice for the sake of her.

“That's not selfishness... not one bit.” Spike lifted a claw to the back of her head, allowing his digits to comb through her mane. It killed him to do so. Velvet silk was smooth on its way through the gaps. It soothed her, but also ruined her curls. “There's nothing wrong with reassessing the things that made you happy and wanting to go back to them.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, still brushing her mane, feeling all the little wiggles for his efforts. “Maybe you won't get it from the same ponies. But at least you know what you want. And out others are wanting the same.”

Rarity stopped her wiggling and pulled out from underneath him, enough for her face to appear below his chin, looking up at him with brilliant blue eyes. Her ears lowered at the sides as her shoulders slumped into a clump of white. “Spikey? I must admit... I came here with a purpose today. The desire to have a question finally answered.”

“And what's that?”

“The day you and I finally parted, I asked you a question, the curiosity if you would be with me.” Rarity blinked but did not look away. Neither did he despite every nerve asking it to be. “You answered no. It was a hypothetical question, so I could understand the hesitance.” She shook her head. “But if you had answered yes...”

“Then I wouldn't have deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” Rarity tilted her head to the side as she arched an eyebrow; some of her straightened mane fell across her neck. “Darling you spent all those years being there for me. Surely if any were afforded the chance—“

“It should be that prince you spoke about.”

“Has it been that all this time?” Her forehooves rose between the tight space between their bodies until coming to rest on his shoulders. “My words and desires of seeking someone greater. Did that raise the pedestal—“

“It's because perfect deserves perfect.” Spike lowered his head in the attempt to look away, but even then, she sunk deeper beneath him to still catch his gaze. Looking into her eyes, he was compelled into truth. “You're perfect, Rarity, and I don't have the head to compare you to a season. Nothing I can say can strike just how perfect you are. Nothing can encapsulate that feeling.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Flattery at the cost of self-deprecating is hardly flattering.”

“There are two sides to our relationship, right? The part of you that's my friend and the part of you that's a princess.” Spike inhaled deeply and exhaled the same. “Even as a friend I'm still aware of the princess I hold you as. Keeping around you is okay because it still preserves that. But the idea of holding you, hugging you, being with you, kissing you...”

He shook his head again and again, spawned into laughter, a horrible feeling over him. “It all feels so tainted because it doesn't belong to me. I can so easily see you kissing and snuggling with a prince because a perfect mare belongs with a perfection stallion. But when I enter the picture... it all feels so sinister.”

Rarity seemed stunned as she kept within his hold and, for the moment, appeared ready to leave it. Instead of retreating, however, she inched closer. Up to his face to the point their breaths exchange. Soft and scented were her own. Burly and smoky was his. It was great for him and unfair for her.

“Perfection shouldn't be tainted by imperfection.”

“You boy.” Rarity shook her head while keeping her eyes locked on him. “You silly little boy. Has that been it the whole time? That you could never be good enough to be with the perfection that you see? Even after all those weeping sessions on the couch with all the ice-cream?”

Spike smiled. “The feelings never went away even in times like those. Sorry Rarity. You're just too good for me.”

Rarity looked at him for a while. Then a smirk appeared on her muzzle as well. The eyes gazing to the ceiling, keeping their, prodding him into doing the same. “Isn't this certainly an interesting problem we've gotten ourselves into? The attention of being famous and the countless suitors couldn't compare to the feelings that arose in being with you.”

Spike decided to keep silent as he searched the ceiling, looking for whatever it was she was seeing. He found nothing of interest. Yet her gaze was fixated upon something.

“And here you viewed me as a perfect and natural beauty you couldn't handle corrupting with your imperfections.” Rarity giggled. “Such a drastic contrast between us, isn't there? A refined lady and the goofy but genuine boy. But alas... I want to be with you Spike.”

His heart seized. Everything in his body tensed. Ringing started in his ears as sweat then seeped through his scales. His nerves compressed into themselves as a swirling then shrunk his stomach together. Opening his mouth produced a gasp.

“Two choices wait before you.” Rarity lowered his muzzle and Spike did the same as a result, a trick for them to press together, harder on the way down, the two joined as they looked flatly into the other. An inch was the distance between their lips. “Can you handle being kissed by what you perceive as perfection?”

Her eyes drew closed as a warm exhale blew across him. It pulled him in so badly that, even though his moral compass spoke to go away, the perfection of it all begged for him to indulge. His eyes closed as well, a tight clench spawning wrinkles around his eyes, causing the mare to peek, giggling, before closing again.

“And are you able to kiss perfection back... ruining it... all so a lonely girl can feel loved once more?”

Spike felt it. The push and the press of the muzzle and then the lips. Soft and fuzzy and supple, tracing over and across his own, light brushes, teases, wondering if he'll take the risk and the hit. Perfection stood on the edge, asking for him to come in, allowing them to go back to the start of it all again.

His lips quivered as they inched forward, coming to press against her own, corrupting the greatness of their feeling in pressing against them. Yet the lips parted ever so slightly, dancing more on his own, asking for him to do the same, a favour then returned.

The two kissed and then kissed again, the sound echoing throughout the kitchen, the air infused with beginning love. His claw returned to the back of her head, supporting the mare as he leaned in, wanting more of that denied perfection. And she was glad to take it from him. Her returns were as greedy as he—and she wasn't a beast like him.

His claw brushed her mane straight during the kiss, all to feel her moans in his mouth, the wiggling of her plush body into his. Just as she was perfect no matter what style of mane she wore, little guilt came in causing it to be straight.

The kiss broke for a second as the two inched away, panting faintly, their lips connected by a bridge of saliva. Rarity rose a hoof to wash across his cheek and over the side of his head, looking deeply into his eyes. “Destroy my mane with your claws. Ruin me with your imperfections. So long as you continue to see me as perfect no matter what happens to me... then you need not fear tainting me.”

She leaned close. “For that bias of yours has always been mine in turn. I've always seen you as perfect even in your stuttering. It warms a girl's heart to see the full effect she can have on a boy. Now come here. Kiss me again.”

And so they leaned in, their kiss in the middle, an imperfect first kiss, to them, perfect for exactly that.

Author's Note

I almost want to end the story here as the romantic problems have reached their conclusion and feels like a natural end. What do you guys think? Another chapter or so for sweet p0rn or leave it as is?
~ Yr. Pal, B

V | Filming the First

~ V ~

Filming the First

The room blurred and the sounds muffled by contained moans and groans, the feeling of a plush coat brushing underneath his searching claws, unable to help but knead the excessive. Maybe that defined the personality and body currently pressed onto his stomach, standing on two legs as two forehooves felt across the definition of his chest.

In terms of her speech and the volume to her body, dispersed in proportion to everywhere, the extra fluff sprouting from her chest compensated by the healthy heaping of fat coating her tush. There was where his claw's dared to search.

The dip in the back rising into the curve of her ass.

“Mmmmhmm!” Rarity broke the kiss and retreated a few inches under him, a string of saliva still between them. It wasn't broken on purpose as her muzzle turned to the side and her eyes glinted in the night. “Naughty.” She inched up and warmly blew on his lips. “How long have you fantasized doing exactly as you have done?”

Spike chuckled and did his best to smirk—exposing an expression of a goof. “Ever since the love of childhood transitioned into the lust that comes from being a teenager. I've, uh, played this scene out probably a thousand times in my head.”

He titled his head. “Is saying that to a mare sexy or creepy?”

“Sexily creepy to me, darling.” Rarity brushed her snout into his. “Tell me. Did I live up to your fantasies?”

His claw squeezed at the fat of her rump, clumps of warm marshmallow compressing between the gaps of his digits. Rarity squeaked and inched upward, pleasantly startled by the broadness—before sinking into the next kneading.

“Better than any wet dream.”

“Oh, c'mere.”

Her muzzle rose tilted forward into his, the coating of fur across her lips, each strand a tickle against his every scale, the sensation divine, the warmth flushing across his own, their softness compressing, condensing, into greater and better perfection.

Something slammed into his back. The bedroom door. Where they already there—literal and figuratively—so close to the beginning of their relationship? It'd been a decade long affair. Years of denied love and lust with fallen ambitions set the lonely lovers on edge. Spike attempted to push off the door only for hooves to slammed into his chest, pushing him against it, the mare twisting up, pushing her softness across his length, the excessive plushness spreading and flattening across his scales.

Fuck he wanted her against him badly.

Spike's claw squeezed her flank a final time, feeling her moan enter his throat, the sudden exhale through her snout. That claw pulled back to the sides of her body, feeling across her coat and rubbing her back, edging her on to whatever came next. His other claw, however, fumbled into the wood behind him.

Until finding the knob. Turned and pushed on. The two stumbled into the room.

Spike hadn't realized he was standing before the couch until Rarity pushed him onto it. Her hooves pushed him back and down as his bottom sunk into the cushion. He attempted to rise only for her to come down on him, pushing him back into his seat, keeping him there, lording from above while bathed in moonlight.

“Why don't you take a seat, Spikey, while I...” Rarity had stopped talking in turning around, the glow of amethyst caught on something. She dared across the floor to the VCR. There had been a tape sticking out. “Well well. So it was here after all.”

Spike cocked his head as the mare had turned around before him. “What was here?”

Her head hovered to the side of her body as she offered a knowing look. “Just a certain mystery I'd been seeking to put to rest. You see, in my younger years—and no laughter or lies, please—I'd felt my... femininity had gone underappreciated. Certainly not due to your incessant compliments. But to play it plain with you dear. I wanted to have a prince to admire my rump as nearly as I did.”

Rarity's horn sizzled into a luminescent spiral of blue as she stood and placed her forehooves on the top of the T.V. The power cord below floated into its socket and, in the second next, the static of the screen washed the scene. Her leg bumped the ejected tape back into the machine.

Spike sunk back into the couch and rested his head on its edge. His forearm draped over his face as a groan blew underneath it. “The auto-ejection! The second it loses power, it... ah c'mon! I'd been so close.”

“O-Oh ooooh! Nasty and disgusting!” Rarity floated her rump in a curve, tail over her privates, teasing the edges of the fuzzy lips hidden beneath. “Had that been the reason for your fluster before seeing me? Even after all these years, still alone in your room, getting off only to me. I don't think another mare would be this touched.”

“I swear it's not as perverted as you think.”

“That so?”

“It's as perverted as you think.”

The rolling of the film buzzed in the air as the footage continued to rewind. Rarity looked down at the screen with a grin. “I suppose it all worked out in the end. My friend offered me a role to explore something new. Figured I possessed the talent and the poise and... the assets needed for entry for these things. But even knowing the greatness of my curves sent countless into a trance few could contain themselves within... the admiration I desired still went unfulfilled.”

Then a shiver coursed down her spine, shaken out through her rump, both cheeks, snowy and soft, shaking and wobbling to the act. Jiggles broke across the slope of their surface and ended in the ripples across them. “But knowing you were still so dedicated to me all this time. Well, the one-time affair was worthwhile. Only a single shop sold it. Far from home with limited copies.”

Rarity looked back at him from over her shoulders, lowering her hooves on the sides of the screen, bunching her back and sticking out her rump, little sways to the internal rhythm of her body. Was she giving him a show? He did his best to sit back.

“I had decided that path wasn't for me. Everyone was understanding on the matter. Still, I had gone to that store to ensure all the copies were bought and destroyed.” Rarity stood proper again, stepping from side to side, each time a swing, a little dance building. “The owner ensured the few out there wouldn't find me in harm. He of course couldn't reveal the owners. Though there was an unintentional remark about how I'd become international considering one of the buyers.”

Spike was having a hard time focusing on the story as the mare danced before him. Thick all over was she, each shuffled left and right tugging the wagon she towed with her. Rarity looked back at him over a shoulder, violet hair covering an eye, her muzzle mostly hidden. “I'd always figured it was you. But I couldn't be certain. Until now, that is.”

Her tail flicked out of the way to reveal the lips nestled between her flanks. Heavy and coated in white fur was the extent of her vulva. Light sheen coated it. Glossing that glinted from the dim lighting of the screen. At her base peaked out a fuzzy little pearl. Her breath flexed that tight and tiny hole.

“Do you like what you see? Allow me to present to you an experience you can't get from a dusty tape.” Rarity pressed her hooves on the border and stuck out her rump, bobbing it about, slow rises to fast drop, allowing her ass to bounce. “What's that in your closest I see? Oh? Mhmhm! How perfect!”

Spike didn't want to pull his gaze away from the dancing butt and the tail swishing over the mass of each cheek. Something floated out from the right and into his view. Before them floated a camera with its screen extending from the base. The light atop flashed red.

“I do suppose it's time to update my portfolio—wouldn't you agree?”

“You've gotta be kidding me... you want to film this?”

“What's the matter, darling? Stage fright?”

“No... I could go all night...” Spike shook his head and settled back in his seat. Oh what the hell. They'd come this far, and spent this long apart. Why not have some documentation of their first time—and some footage to enjoy later. “You just want another tape of you for me to enjoy, don't you?”

“Knowing my Wikey is having fun with me even when I'm away.” Rarity turned from the set as her hooves clopped on the floor. Pelting followed behind her, thick and minuscule, a mare barely keeping herself in check. “It certainly makes me feel touched. Now c'mon. You've had yourself to yourself for long enough.”

Spike tensed her body snaked over his lap, two soft hooves lightly pressing into his thighs, pushing onto them—ceasing halfway. Both of them glanced down to the rising of his blush. His member stood tall, twitching in the warming air, but still not warm itself.

Which Rarity was more than happy to take care of.

“Poor dear.” Rarity leaned over the top of his member, taking it between her lips, offering it a gentle kiss. Spike's claws gripped the arms of the couch to keep himself from seizing, or hips from bucking, the idea of humping Rarity's face dangerously appealing. “Neglected for so long. Let's get you inside to somewhere warm.”

Was she going to do it? Rarity pulled an inch over the cock and looked down at it, amused by its throb, all the little twitches, everything provoked from her promise. Without warning was how she leaned down, lips parted and mouth open, allowing his shape to slide across the curve of her tongue, his plastic ridges caressed by her taste buds. Of course she looked up at him all the while. An eye covered by mane and the other glinting sapphire in the dimness. Light shone from the screen behind her. The days of her past aiding in the efforts of her present.

Spike couldn't help himself from bucking his hips, feeling his length pass through the tightness of her muzzle and hugged into the silky confines of her throat, massage and squeezed, sporadically, after every odd inch. There was slight pride in seeing himself bugle in her throat. But the mare handled him well—that one eye looking at him knowingly.

Despite the tension breaking through and back on her body, each thrust forcing her to adjust, every breath subtly let out, the mare didn't choke. No struggles and only a little wiggle at the hips. She was dancing on her back legs. Was this something she enjoyed?

Spike hovered a claw to the back of her head, waiting to see the reactions and, in watching her eye closed, knew he was allowed to take hold. Not even the wettest of dreams saw to him seizing control like this. Yet in gripping the mare, he pulled her in as he thrust out, barrelling deeper into her throat—fucking it for all that it was worth.

How much longer could he handle this? The dragon didn't know as he rocked his head back, rolling it around, unable to suppress the electricity that tingled within his cock. More and more had the sensitivity of its skin demanded to be somewhere warm and always hugged. Deeper and deeper it wanted to go. Rarity was nothing more than a limp toy going with the movements as she took the full extent of his pumping cock. Truly she was giving it up to him.

And that made him sure he didn't want to end it that way.

Spike threw his arms back and kept like that. Rarity rose from his base, leaving spit connecting her lips to the place. Turning her head, she coughed, keeping composed, a true lady being able to keep it all.

“I feel as though I paid back some of your lonelier years by doing that.” Rarity lowered and tilted her head to him, eye reopening, gazing up at him in greater brightness. At once she pounced, upon his thighs and forehooves on his chest, coming to dangle her rear over his crotch. “And now for the cover. Look into the camera for me sweetie.”

Spike slumped to the side for his body to appear behind Rarity. She turned and flagged up her tail to reveal all the juicy bits. She pulled a hoof from his chest and pawed it at the lens, all while the dragon offered a goofy grin, his dick but mere inches from her wetness. How Rarity looked back while partly hidden behind her shoulder. Love and lust were her tools of perfection.

“Well then.” Rarity turned back to him as her hooves slid around his neck, both of them bound, now a few seconds out from connection. “What are you waiting for? Spread me. Take the plunge. Cast me as yours.”

“Mine?”

“Quite indeed, Spike.” Rarity nuzzled herself into his chest, the rest of her body, its vastness of plushness, flattening across his scales. Only her rump stuck out, supported by the thickness of her thighs, all of it cast over his crotch. “Make this mare yours.”

Spike's claws were slow in coming to her muzzle, collecting her cheeks into his palms, lifting them from his chest, presenting her face so he could take it against his own once more. Their muzzles pressed together as their lips worked into the other.

His claws explored across the sides of her body after attaining contact, appreciating how there was always a little extra throughout her coat. He fought the urge to grip it all and shake it back and forth. Rather his claws continued across, dipping, reaching the curve where the softness began to change.

Rarity squealed into the kiss as his claws slipped over the broadness of her flanks, able to capture their surface into his palms, unable to hold all of their sizes. Each knead squeezed them through his gaps. Doughy warmth coated with something else. The sloppier kisses from the refined mare were more than worth the effort.

But Spike had done this for more than the rump itself.

His claws gripped the supple flanks a final time, spreading them apart, enough for her to feel the separation. Before she could hope to break the kiss to glance back, he already guided her bottom down—the lips of her marehood set around his head. Her lips glistened with night-long wetness. Her hips intrinsically jerked downward to take him inside... yet he halted her descent.

Rarity broke the kiss without breath to speak. She inhaled sharply to talk, stopped, feeling his girth inching past and spreading her lips. Her eyes closed in feeling the tightness of her vulva now expanding as the cock buried itself within her. Dipping slowly inside until finally breaching her hole.

And coming inside.

“D-Devious boy.” Rarity hissed the world as the continued arousal had stunned her. “You're torturing me.”

“Mhmm.” Spike leaned further into the seat as the mare raised her hooves to his shoulders, rising above him, coming to feel his claws close the gap being her flanks. Their swells pushed on her folds, tighter sandwiching the cock between them. “T-The cost of making me b... beg.”

“Then I won't make you wait anymore.” Rarity dropped her rump on his crotch as her flanks spread over his thighs. She took the whole of his cock within, clamping on his girth with her inner-walls. Slowly rocking back and forth, she teased the dick within, forcing it to her movements. “This show is for you, my Spikey.”

Spike had decided to hand over the finale to her. His claws kept on her hips, guiding them up and down per her request, copping a feel once the feeling rose. Her rump collected itself and draped ever so slightly on the rise, reaching a high until only his head was inside—before dropping all that ass on him again. Soon she was gaining speed, quicker and faster, thrust forward and back on the rises and the drops, moving around the member within, anything to push it to its limits.

The aching of his cock found its salvation deep inside the warmly cunt, its heated walls and tight interior, a feeling of steam intermixed with the wetness burning across his length. But the dragon was more focused on the mare herself. How she rode him with those closed eyes and fulfilled expressions. No amount of fame or dirty deeds could make her feel appreciated for all that she felt like she possessed.

But in his devotion to her, she became fulfilled, an emptiness in the two, finally filled, by each other.

Rarity dropped her rump onto him and moaned her loudest cry of his name, their lips plunged together, a closing of the eyes as their hips flicked intensely together as the warm wash of relaxation was upon them. Spike thrust a few more times upward, lifting the whole of her weight as it rippled across her frame, that aching now expanding as a hot torrent barrelled through his length.

Both of their backs arched as their love mixed into one, warmth building into warmth, a heat trapped between them. Seconds passed before the mare slumped into him, lazily nuzzling around his neck, sleepily content to keep that way.

And when Spike went to pull out.

“Please don't.”

Spike froze.

“I've been so empty there for far too long... please allow me to feel filled for a few moments longer.”

Spike answered the only way he could.

“As you wish... my princess.”

The two passed out on that couch together, the lack of room, not a problem, for it kept them closer. Spike always assumed a mare like Rarity would need a queen-sized bed to be happy. Yet she didn't cease to smile in her sleep. Not while she was still draped over him.

The footage on the camera found its way into becoming a tape.

A tape that, through means unspoken off, became widespread.

The two, without meaning to, became famous pornstars.

The irony.

Author's Note

I feel like it's redundant at this point to say this story is a strange one. All of my stories are strange ones. The only thing I claim is all my stories are uniquely strange.

This story began as a collaboration between An Intricate Disguise and I but, as you can guess, the project fell through the cracks. The first chapter was written in 2018 and the finale didn't occur until 2020. AiDs has me beat in nearly every regard in writing and prose. His scope of stories, however, keep only inside the premise and never touch outward.

The first chapter was much like that. Just Spike and a tape, jerking off to that, Rarity appearing, her finding the tape, the two doing the business. Despite how simple it sounds, none else could do it as well as him, to actually make one feel alive and immersed in such a risque scene.

But I am not quite that good.

Rather all I have to cop to are the 'deeper' elements in a story. Something just beneath the surface that infuses the whole. It's because of this you can see the difference in the middle of the story where a theme was interjected.

It's of my belief you can go back to any story and update it. Allow there to be differences in the writing itself if you please—how great of a difference is there and how much of it is in our heads?—edit the whole after the fact to keep the 'level' consistent.

What about changes to the story? When I came back to this story, the whole of it lurked in the back of the head—as most tales do—but asked to be expanded. Take what you have and reflect. What can be added or changed but keeps the whole about the same?

Rarity is a pornstar for reasons of wanting to feel appreciated. She is a mare who knows what she has and loves to flaunt and tease it, and yet, doesn't actually feel those qualities are as deeply appreciated as she would like them too. Even becoming famous doesn't fulfill that craving.

But the days of being chased by Spike allowed her to feel like she was before a full and round mirror. In that once annoying purist of her, she realized it was that she craved most of all. Thus with that little theme tucked within the premise, I began work.

And then the porn chapter is the porn chapter. Let this be another sharing of advice. If you crave comments—threaten to withhold porn.

You'll wake up to a full inbox.

~ Yr. Pal, B ~