Coco Pommel was losing it.

The prim little mare danced on her hooves, her heart completely aflutter as she flipped between anxiety and excitement at the thought of what she would be doing later that night. She gleefully smiled and shivered with nervous energy as she escorted the last customer out of the Manehattan boutique, flipping the sign on the door over to ‘CLOSED’ as she locked it.

Coco let out a deep sigh, before chuckling and racing to the back of the store, where a small door had been installed which led to a staircase that ran up to her apartment. It was rather incredible being able to live and work in the same building, a blessing that she had to attribute to her employer, Rarity.

At first Coco was simply incredibly happy to be chosen by the famous fashionista to run her world-renowned haberdashery, but when the element of generosity had learned that Coco commuted two hours in each direction every day on Manehattan’s aging transit systems to run the store, she’d surprised Coco Pommel with a lease to the upstairs apartment.

Formerly a dancing club, now bought out and converted into a red-brick studio-condominium, Coco was living a dream come true, and at a price she was sure that Rarity had to be losing her shirt on. It was just one more reason that the blue-haired young mare would be loyal to her teacher until Equestria froze over.

Those thoughts were only at the back of Coco’s mind as she pranced to the bathroom, which was well designed with a luxurious soaker-tub and walk-in shower. There, waiting on the vanity, was the small package she had picked up from the apothecary earlier that morning… a discrete package with the text: “Madame Collette’s Colonic Cleanser” carefully emblazoned in unobtrusive and diminutive text, such that the entire thing could be easily mistaken for some other medication or vitamin… and not the precursor to rather… interesting other activities.

Coco quickly tore the top off her package and caught the two small gel capsules in her hoof. She paused only briefly to turn the sparkling, magically imbued elements before tossing them into her mouth, swallowing them, and chasing them with a muzzleful of water from the sink.

Without missing a beat Coco trotted into the shower and turned the spray to a warm and powerful cascade. It had been years since the last time she’d had any sort of… accident when using these magical cleansers… and Madame Collette had far superior quality control than the off-label medication responsible for those unpleasant events… but it still paid to be cautious. Coco had learned a long time ago that you can’t party where manure lives without expecting it to show up… unless you prepared first.

Coco felt a small rumbling in her stomach and intestines as the magical mixture of potion and spell-work quickly took effect. A shining twinkle rattled through her guts, magically scrubbing and renewing the mare’s gastrointestinal tract, sanitizing and sterilizing all her lower tract, effectively making her insides cleaner than a plate at Celestia’s table.

The spell completed with a playful tendril of spell-energy escaping from under Coco’s now soaked tail with a small ’poot’ before it burst into a magical rose… only for the sparkles to be washed away by the shower. Coco was well-used to the effect, a playful addition to the spell which signaled to the user that the effect was complete.

“Excuse me.” Coco said demurely, out of habit.

She chuckled to herself as she worked a good lather into her mane with the fragrant shampoo. She loved the clean feeling that the cleanser gave her - a feeling she made sure to experience every time before her ‘personal time’ on ‘special nights’ when she would raid the ‘toy box’ hidden under her bed. Not that she wouldn’t clean her toys afterward… Coco was an extremely sanitary mare… but being clean all around just made the whole process so much more enjoyable. Sometimes Coco would even use a douche to make herself even more fragrant, or just for her own pleasure… but there was no time for this now...

Because tonight she had a date!

And not a date with one of her toys, a heated exercise involving a bath, a steamy romance novel, a half-bottle of wine… and an absolutely exquisite finale… but a real, living, breathing, actual stallion!

Coco squee’d to herself as she stepped out of the shower, shaking her fur like a dog before taking one of her towels and draping it across her shoulders. Prancing on her hoof tips with excitement she danced over to her mirror, quickly picking up a brush and getting to work on her short mane.

Coco chuckled as she looked into the mirror. She knew that most mares her age would chide her for getting so excited to meet a stallion for the first time, acting like a school-filly going to her first dance. But she wasn’t like most other young mares. Coco had always been a bit reserved. Not timid or shy… but not equipped to deal with the aggressive dating scene of Manehattan, where mares outnumbered stallions four to one and females were expected to be almost predatory in their advances toward stallions… if they hoped to join a herd before they became old spinsters, that is.

Even worse, Coco knew that her… interest would almost certainly disqualify her from most stallions’ consideration. Whenever she’d heard the topic of… alternative activities discussed among her mare-friends, it would always be casually dismissed as “only for those perverts…” or “that disgusting colt-cuddler practice…” or “the refuge of street-mares who have loosened out their other bits.”

Coco sighed with nervousness as she straightened the last few curls of her mane with well-practiced applications of hairspray. Even the few stallions she’d tried (in hilariously awkward and rambling ways) to probe on the subject had been confused… “why would any stallion go in there? Is he really... undersized?” or “ugh… no thanks, I heard from another guy that there’s no grip down… there... why mess with perfection?”

Coco put the brush down with a small harrumph. Why mess with perfection indeed?’ she thought to herself. It wasn’t her fault she had this… passion. Ever since she’d been a young filly and her mother had used an old brand thermometer whenever she was sick… one that went in a non-standard orifice (and not her ear)... she’d been fascinated with the experience.

Many a time young Coco had requested a temperature check, only to be assured by her mother that her internal temperature was perfectly fine… once the well-lubricated, cool metallic tip of the thermometer had slipped into the filly, each time making her squeak with the strange tingling sensation. Coco’s mother was worried that she might be raising a hypochondriac… before young Coco had discovered she could ‘check her temperature’ herself.

As she grew older, Coco realized that some of the toys meant for her other bits could be useful for her ‘alternate hobby’. When she’d requested (with great embarrassment and much blushing) that her mother purchase her smaller, more ‘slender’ coolers for her early heats, her mother kindly obliged, simply assuming that the filly took after her mother in the size department.

But Coco’s hobby had stunted her romantic development. It certainly didn’t help that she heard so many negative opinions of the practice, but her relative neglect for her flower had made her worry that she would be unsuitable for any but the smallest of stallions.

Coco steeled herself, scrunching her face up as she stared herself down in the mirror and reached for her makeup and lipstick. ’C’mon Coco! Stop acting like this is your first date! You’ve been out with plenty of handsome stallions!’ Coco thought to herself, plucking herself up and puffing up her chest with confidence…

Before reality crashed back over her and she deflated… ’Yeah… if by plenty you mean three… and by ‘go-out-with’ you mean went out for coffee once then never spoke to them again once they found out you weren’t going to simply hike your tail for them...and by handsome you mean any stallion you could get…’

Coco groaned.

’This date was a bad idea after all. ‘Maybe I should simply call the whole thing off… ‘

She applied the red lipstick to her lips expertly despite the tremble in her hoof.

“Hmmm… really dear, I think that red isn’t your color… you’d look much better au naturelle!”

Coco sighed, lifting a handkerchief and clearing the lipstick from her face.

’Yes, they have a point… it really does look much better when I don’t wear… wait… WHO?’

Coco nearly jumped out of her skin as she came to the realization that she was not alone in the bathroom. Her head turned at whiplash-inducing speed to her right, where she saw a chuckling alabaster unicorn, tittering in amusement at her antics.

“R-rarity!?”

“Yes! It is I, dear Coco!” Rarity chucked, as she ignited her magic to help finish Coco’s aesthetic preparations, with blue flashes of magic swirling about the stunned and agape pony, lifting brushes and puff-pads to primp and polish the stunned little earth-mare. “I do hope you’ll forgive my intrusion! I had hoped to catch you before closing, usually you’re in the store so late! What’s the rush my dear protege?”

Coco stammered slightly, her mind still racing to try to adapt to the situation as Rarity finished by placing Coco’s trademark flower into her mane.

“Hmm… my dear Coco, if I didn’t know any better I might surmise that you were preparing for a date, hmmm!?” Rarity grinned, leading the railroaded mare into her apartment bedroom.

Coco’s blush further contributed to her flummoxed state as she strained to respond. “I… uh… well… yes... but I...”

“Ooooooo! How lovely!” Rarity squee’d prancing about the room, to Coco’s disdain. “Do tell my dear! Who is this stallion of yours? Why haven’t you told me of him before? How long have you been seeing each other? Is he a perfect gentlecolt? He had better be! I wouldn’t accept anything less for my lovely little Coco!” Rarity’s stream of consciousness was almost uninterruptible, but Coco was well acquainted with her employer’s flights of fancy.

Coco pawed shyly at the hardwood floor, unable to meet Rarity’s eye. “Uh… well… actually… tonight was going to be my first date with him.” She smiled demurely up at the unicorn.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Rarity chirped, patting her friend’s leg. “What is his name? How did you meet?”

Coco chuckled nervously, “well… actually Rarity… I don’t know his name.”

Rarity paused, her head cocking slightly to the left in confusion. “Oh? A case of late-night revelry and only a telephone number then? Where did you meet this fellow?”

Coco’s blush became even deeper. “W-well… I… I don’t… I’ve never actually met him either… in person…”

Rarity’s look became one of knowing understanding. “Oh… OH… a hired companion for the evening? Which service do you use? My preference is Embe-”

“No! No.” Coco quickly corrected. “It’s not a comfort-pony service stallion.” Coco sighed. “I’d be far too embarrassed to use somepony so experienced… no I met him on Flinder.”

Rarity’s eyebrow arched. “Flinder? What is that dear? Some new bar or restaurant in the city?”

Coco chuckled and shook her head, hopping over to her dresser where her smartphone sat. “I guess you don’t have the service out in Ponyville yet. It’s all the rage in the city right now!” Coco sat on the edge of her well-made bed, patting next to her as an invitation for Rarity to do the same so that she could see the screen. “It’s a dating app developed by a pair of entrepreneurs… brothers I think… it shows you pictures of other ponies, you swiped left if you’re not interested, or right if you fancy them.” Coco showed Rarity how it worked, quickly flipping left through a few grinning stallions. “If you and the other pony both swipe right on one another… it opens a chat between the two of you!”

Rarity’s eyes sparkled. “Th-that’s… marvelous!” She squee’d once again and looked down to inspect the app more closely. “I really must meet these brothers! I would love nothing more than to try this out for myself… mama needs a new stallion, too…” Rarity uttered the last part under her breath, then pointed at the screen again. “Oh! Is this the chat with your date for this evening?”

Coco blushed, starting to turn away from the unicorn to shield her phone from her vision. “Y-yes… b-but… I.”

“Oh, come now dear! Let me see!” Rarity whined, trying to look over her blushing friend’s shoulder.

“R-rarity… I… cut it out, it’s… it’s embaras-”

Coco was cut off, Rarity had tired of dodging this way and that… instead snatching Coco’s phone from her grasp with a quick flash of her magic field.

“Ah, that’s better… now let’s see…” Rarity began to scroll through the chat, as Coco desperately tried to get her hooves back on her phone. “What’s his name… ‘Aspiring Fudge Packer?” Rarity’s eyebrow arched up again. “Is this fellow trying to break into the confectionary industry?”

Coco’s face was on fire with how red and hot it had become. “R-rarity… p-please! Don’t read…”

“And your name… Backdoor Babe... oh… OH. Oh my!” Rarity giggled.

The chat revealed the just how salaciously accurate the euphemistic names truly were. Rarity couldn’t help but chuckle as she scrolled through the conversation, imagining the timid little mare she’d known for years now saying some of these things aloud. Coco could only bury her face in her pillows, mortified that her chat was currently being read by someone who knew her personally.

...

Aspiring Fudge Packer: So… we’re on for Friday then? I’m going to go out and get my train ticket now.

Backdoor Babe: You bet, big boy. Mmm I can hardly wait, this week is going to be so hard.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Hehe… no I’ll be the one who is so HARD this week… thinking of your ass as I work my plow.

Backdoor Babe:I’m getting soaked now… thinking of you plowing my ass.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Damn BB. Tell me more.

Backdoor Babe: So naughty. Let’s just say I’m typing with one hoof, stud. Mmm… I’m looking over my set of plugs right now. Thinking about whether I should put one in through the week to get myself ready for you. What size should I stick up my rear, Packer?

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Wew. You just gave me a hardon. Do I need to send you a picture?

Backdoor Babe:I’ve still got the one you sent last week. You big… bad… boy. I’m looking at it right now. Mmm… definitely need the XXL plug.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Do you actually wear that through the week?

Backdoor Babe: Can you imagine? I’m talking with the rich and elite of Manehattan… all the while a BIG… THICK… silicon plug is spreading my TIGHT little butthole… my pussy is winking and dripping….

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Keep going BB.

Backdoor Babe: Hmm… are you touching yourself now, Packer?

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Yep.

Backdoor Babe: So am I… I’m also using a suction cup cooler-dildo, the biggest one I could find... It’s halfway in my ass right now. I’m going nice and slow… so don’t stroke yourself too fast. I want you to imagine my tight little ass… bouncing up and down on your BIG, BLACK, COCK…

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Fuck BB. I’m close.

Backdoor Babe: Mmm… we’ll have to work on that… I’m sliding all the way down my cooler now. It’s all the way in my butt. Just imagine how hot and tight it will be around your dick. I want you to squeeze your big stallionhood as hard as you can and think of me sitting on your lap, riding you.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Shit. I’m flaring.

Backdoor Babe: Bad boy. I’m close too. Think of me as you cum, I’m doing the same.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Yup.

Backdoor Babe: You done?

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Yeah, just cleaning up, I think I shot some right into the hayloft.

Backdoor Babe: LOL. I just soaked myself. Good thing I was in my shower.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Jeez BB. I can’t wait for Friday! Are you still sure you want to do this? I know I’m really really big… so… if it doesn’t work for you…

Backdoor Babe: Hey! No backing out now, Packer! Just because none of the mares in your small town have the guts to take a larger stallion in the backdoor doesn’t mean anything… I’m a sophisticated city mare!

Aspiring Fudge Packer: ...you already told me this will be your first time doing anal BB, lol.

Backdoor Babe: Lol, yeah… but I’ve practiced a LOT, OK? Celestia hear me… I’ll make it work on Friday, one way or another! We’ll get that big shaft of yours in my butt!

Aspiring Fudge Packer:: Man, I hope so! Even if it doesn’t work out though… I’d be happy to just admire that beautiful butt of yours BB.

Backdoor Babe: Stop! Flattery will get you nowhere.

Aspiring Fudge Packer: Well… it’ll get me up your rear. But it’s true.

Backdoor Babe: Cut it out, you’re making me blush! Now get to sleep, and dream of Friday!

Aspiring Fudge Packer:: It’s all I can think of.

Rarity read the last parts of the chat aloud. part way through reading the salacious commentary she had cruelly decided to delight in torturing her poor protege by giving an oral recitation of the transcript, replete with falsetto versions of Coco’s parts and gruff tones for her male counterpart’s elements.

Coco groaned and kicked her hooves futilely against the top of her bed, hoping to somehow drown out the embarrassment.

“Oh Coco… you’re so adorable!” Rarity giggled, pulling the mare out from her hiding spot, buried in her fluffy pillows. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about! That was one of the most precious things I’ve ever read. I didn’t know that you had it in you dear!”

Coco grumbled. “It’s so embarrassing! It’s like I’m another pony when I’m on the chat”

“Mmm… yes, that’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I understand. The mask of anonymity can give even the meekest of ponies the ferocity of a lioness. But you shouldn’t shy away Coco, I love girl talk… especially if it a bit spicy!”

Coco blinked, looking over at her mentor and friend. “Y-you don’t find it weird that I like… b-bum stuff?”

Rarity began to laugh. “B-bum stuff?” Rarity caught her breath, clearing tears of mirth from her eyes. “After some of the things you wrote to that stallion you call it ‘bum stuff’? Hahaha! Dear you are far too precious!”

Coco grumped, puffing her cheeks out a bit. She was not a fan of being an object of mirth.

“But, no dear. Of course not.” Rarity’s eyebrows waggled a bit and she got a sly look before continuing. “Madame Rarity is an artiste when it comes to love. And those who would be so foolishly as to neglect such an important erogenous tool are no more sophisticated than a filly hoofing at herself for the first time… truly those naysayers are unsophisticated, uncultured, boors.”

Coco’s ears perked up and she looked over at Rarity with a small glimmer of curiosity. “So… you’ve…”

Rarity smiled generously. “Of course... my dear. You haven’t? Strange for somepony who seems so enamored of the act!”

Coco sighed and looked depressingly at the bed between the two of them. “No… I haven’t… I mean… I’ve done it plenty with ‘plastic’ stallions… but never anything real. I’ve never been with a real stallion... “

“Ever darling? Not even in the more… ‘conventional’ method?” Rarity asked.

“No.” Coco groaned. “I’m such a lose-”

Rarity put a hoof over Coco’s muzzle, stifling her. “Ahp ahp ahp…. I’ll hear nothing of the sort my dear. You are a beautiful and exquisite flower! The fact that you bloom a bit later only means that you are even more rare and delightful!”

Coco smiled meekly. “Th-thanks Rarity. Still… I have no idea how I am going to get the courage to go through with this. Now that I think of it… I think I should call Packer and shut this whole thing down. I’m nowhere near the confident mare from that chat.” Coco groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “I mean look at me! I’m ready to melt a hole in the ground from blushing… then happily bury myself in said hole!”

Rarity chuckled and picked the phone back up. “Well dear… I have a bit of… experience with these sorts of things… if you will. Let us simply say that ‘Madame’ Rarity refers to more than simply my experience with haute couture… I would be more than willing to assist…”

Coco perked up and sat up with interest. “R-really? Y-you could help?”

Rarity’s eyes grew wide as she clicked on Aspiring Fudge Packer’s Profile, showing her his photo for the first time… as well as the photos he had sent Coco.

“Darling… I believe it would be my privilege to help.

A few hours later

Big Mac nervously scratched the back of his head as he loitered outside one of Manehattan’s many coffee shops. This particular shop was well situated, across from the wildly famous and popular “Rarity for You” boutique. It was also right across the street from where the red farm-pony was due to meet his Flinder date.

Big Mac had originally been extremely nervous to use the new-fangled dating app. Heck, he had just bought a low-end smartphone a few months earlier and barely understood how the thing worked. On top of that, he had nothing to complain about when it came to the dating scene in and around Ponyville.

Well… almost nothing to complain about.

It was true that he was renowned as the country village’s top stud. Certainly, no other stallion compared to his… size... and/or stamina. There was a time when it was well known that mares could drop by the Sweet Apple Acres barn at 7PM on a Tuesday night, enter by the back door, and leave fully satisfied 15 minutes later. Heck, some Tuesdays there was a line-up!

Applejack had eventually put a stop to that, scolding her brother about appearances and the family name… about how he was setting a bad example for Applebloom, who would soon be old enough to understand many of the euphemisms and rumors that Ponyville mares shared about the farm-pony. The only reason AJ had even allowed his behavior to that point was that Mac had been quite careful to avoid any trysts with her closest friends, the elements of harmony.

Still… it didn’t prevent Applejack from finding out from the loud-mouthed Lyra Heartstrings or the otherwise prim and proper Octavia Melody about some of the more salacious details of what went on in the family hayloft. To quote his sister: “Ah really didn’t need ta know that yer load is as thick as Bon Bon’s cream-fillin’... or that ‘yer longer then Octavia’s cello bow.”

It had been funny at the time to see his usually uptight sister blush at having to speak about such things with him. Funny up until she’d locked the barn and banned any further Tuesday night romps.

But Mac had recovered.

A few months later he had fallen for a baker from another village, and after a few perfectly harmless and romantic dates, the two had fallen head over hooves for one another. Sugar Belle had even moved to Ponyville to be closer to her beau…

But Sugar Belle was a traditional mare. She refused to ‘go for a midnight hay wrestling session’ before the two were properly hitched. Mac had whined and cajoled and begged, trying to make it clear to the beautiful baker that he was built to sow his oats, and it was agony not to.

Sugar Belle had simply chuckled and shook her head. She was good enough to give him the green light to ‘plow some fields’ before their marriage if he really had to… (in fact she’d encouraged him to actually do so as a means of auditioning recruits for their future herd) ... but it would not be her rear up in the air.

She also made it very clear that once they WERE hitched, that would signal the end of any of his gallivanting, so it was best for him to get all his wicked fantasies out of his system now.

So, Mac had started to date around Ponyville once again. More carefully selecting which mares he would go to visit, being more discrete with the ponies he partnered with. Over the course of the past summer he’d ticked off every fantasy in his book. Blowjobs, hoofjobs, magic-jobs, two mares at once… teen-mares… milf-mares… mayor-mares… he’d done them all. Except for one outstanding checkbox:

Anal sex.

It was his own fault - there wasn’t a mare within a hundred miles o Ponyville who didn’t know about the legend of Big Mac and his ‘not-so-little’ Mac. Every proposition ended with a cold shut-down, often accompanied with laughter or disbelief.

He’d shared his frustrations with his future wife, Sugar Belle when they were snuggling together one evening.... He was grousing about how he’d have to wait until they were married before he’d get to experience the sensations of a mare’s plothole, when Sugar Belle had simply chuckled and pushed him away.

Looking down at his groin with a pointed glance, she’d simply smirked and shook her head. “And you think I’m going to put that in MY tailhole? Hun… I’d be sent to the hospital… nuh-huh… that ain’t happening!”

So, Mac had turned to one last refuge: Flinder.

With the help of his darling sweetheart, they’d swiped through hundreds of photos, expanding the range of candidates larger and larger. Every time they got a hit, after only a little bit of chatting it would quickly become clear that the mare was NOT interested in doing THAT particular sex act… and the few that were curious quickly became ‘not-so-curious’ when he shared pictures of himself… in ALL his glory.

Until he’d matched with Backdoor Babe, that was.

True she was in Manehattan… a long way off from Ponyville. But chatting with her was incredibly sexy. Sugar Belle and Big Mac loved the raunchy texts this mare would send his way (Sugar Belle particularly enjoyed watching her crush get off to them - without helping of course… despite how much Mac would beg).

So it was that Big Mac had a bag and lunch packed for him by his darling marefriend, who saw him off at the train station with a hug and a wave… and a whisper to “give Backdoor Babe a ride that won’t let her sit for a week!” As the train had pulled from the Ponyville station, Sugar Belle had run down the platform shouting after him: “Oh, and don’t forget to ask her what she thinks about herds!”

A few hours later, Big Mac found himself outside of the boutique, mere meters away from his dream-mare. Well… one of his dream-mares.

So why was it that he was getting cold hooves!?

He was as nervous as the first time he’d bucked an apple tree! He was already fifteen minutes late to his date, just staring across the street at the door to the shop. How could he possibly go face that sophisticated, sexual, city-mare now?

Gulping with a sigh of resignation, Big Mac made to turn around and leave the coffee-shop, head to the train station, and return to Ponyville in shame. Perhaps some dreams were too big for a simple farm-stallion like him… or more accurately… some dreams were too tight.

Just as he made to leave, the watched door burst open, and an awfully familiar white unicorn with gorgeous purple locks shouted across the street to him.

“Mr. Big Macintosh, sir, get over here. This. INSTANT!”

“H-huh?” Mac stammered, now inside the store. “R-rarity, what are y-yew…”

Rarity huffed, shutting the door behind him and tapping her hoof impatiently. “Quiet down darling. Really! Making a poor filly wait like that! And don’t deny that you were making to abscond when I called you over! Really, Big Mac, such actions could make a poor mare’s heart break to stand her up like that!”

Mac’s head swirled as he tried to understand exactly what was happening. “W-wait… YOU are BB? Y-yah don’t look anyth-”

“Oh pish posh, Big Mac. I’m not your damsel. Merely… her coach, shall we say. It was a happy accident that finds us in such a serendipitous situation. I was asked by your lovely date to be the… shall we say… inverse-chaperone… for the evening. More aptly, I will be the mistress for the evening.”

Mac’s face scrunched in confusion. “I… I d-don’t…”

Rarity sighed and rolled her eyes, as she prodded the larger stallion along toward the back of the shop. “I had planned to use this time to go over in detail exactly what the arrangement would be and set out some very detailed ground rules for us to follow, perhaps even over a nice bottle of red wine.” She began to growl, “However, your simply uncouth tardiness forced my hoof, and poor Coco is waiting for us. So instead I will simply ask one question.”

Rarity paused and looked Big Mac directly in his eyes.

“Are you ready for me to give you and Coco Pommel a night of the most mind-blowing, tail-swishing, eye-rolling, tongue-lolling, mouth drooling sex you’ve ever experienced - including the unique opportunity to cum in Miss Pommel’s ass?”

Mac’s heart skipped a beat. Then two beats. Actually… he was quite sure his heart had just stopped. He thumped his chest several times to try to get it working again as he coughed in shock.

“Darling, that reaction is such a cliché. Miss Pommel awaits upstairs. She already said yes.”

Mac finally found his voice, his big powerful heart beginning to thump in his chest once again and letting him speak.

“M-miss Rarity… I… I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes, darling.”

Author's Note

Hahaha... what if he just said no?