Seduction in Striped Socks
With a sigh, Cadance dropped down beside Shining and sprawled across the dishevelled bed sheets. He was quick to pull her into a tight hug, planting kisses against the bridge of her muzzle as she laughed and lost herself in his eyes.
“Happy anniversary, honey,” he murmured.
“Happy anniversary,” Cadance echoed, and this time it was her that kissed him, and properly. When finally she pulled back and lay back against her pillow to stare vacantly up at the ceiling, she could still feel the odd shiver from her climax rolling through her.
They lay side by side for a while, Shining’s hoof making gentle circles against her shoulder as she nestled against his chest. She glanced up at him, his features so gorgeous even in the dim candlelight, only to find him staring back at her. He was doing that face, the one where he was thinking something but wasn’t sure if he should share it.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, and returned his gaze to the ceiling.
“Oh no, you don’t get out of it that easy.” She was joking, of course, but there was a very slight edge to her voice. Not a warning, just a… gentle nudge. Or at least that’s how she liked to think of it.
“I dunno,” he replied, “I was just thinking about us.”
“What about us?”
He grinned. “We did good, didn’t we?”
The edge in Cadance’s voice softened and melted away. “Oh,” she said. “Well, you did pretty good, Prince Shining Armor. Definitely an upgrade.”
He laughed. She loved making him laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s a good thing you had the title, I wouldn’t have looked twice otherwise.”
Cadance gave him the requisite mock punch to the shoulder, and he countered by scooping her up in his hooves and she shrieked and they rolled across the bed together as the sheets encircled them. When they finally disentangled themselves again, the bed was even more of a mess, but Cadance didn’t care. It was worth it.
“No, but I mean it,” he said. “Forget the castle, forget the Empire. We did good. You and me. And now Flurry, too.”
“We did,” she agreed, settling her head against his chest again, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breathing, listening to his heartbeat.
“I dunno, I just sometimes can’t believe how lucky I am,” Shining continued. “I mean, who finds their perfect soulmate with their very first partner? That’s gotta be like… a million to one.” A sudden twinge went through Cadance’s chest. “But we did.” The twinge worsened.
He must have caught the worry in her expression. He always did, was always so good at seeing it. Normally she loved that he could do that, loved that was always there for her – sometimes before she even realised she needed him.
Tonight, though, it might have been better if he’d missed it.
“Cadance? What’s the matter?”
“I…” she faltered. And maybe her hesitation was all he needed to hear.
“Wait a minute,” he said, doubt and worry beginning to creep into his voice. “Are you… Are you saying I wasn’t your first?”
Cadance bit her lip. “Uhhhh…”
***
They would be back soon.
Cadance stretched back on the couch and glanced across the living room, up at the darkened stairwell. Not that she expected any movement; Twilight never made a peep this late. She was always so well behaved. Sometimes Cadance actually worried about her a little – it maybe wouldn’t have hurt if Twilight pushed her boundaries at least a little bit. Cadance certainly had at her age. But then, Cadance had also been shut up in a stuffy castle with no one to talk to but servants. She would have killed for a proper foalsitter. So maybe she’d snuck out a few times, and maybe it wasn’t fair to expect Twilight to be as rebellious as Cadance herself had been.
That was all in the past now, anyway. And she had to admit, getting to foalsit was nice, and still about the only thing Aunt Celestia would let her do to get out of the castle of an evening.
Although maybe if the princess knew everything about her foalsitting she’d have been less happy about it.
Yeah, best to keep the details to herself.
Not that Cadance was planning on telling anyone, anyway. Admittedly, the first time Night Light and Velvet had come home with another pony in tow – a confident looking mare with a spiked, purple mane – Cadance had definitely been surprised. They’d introduced the mare as their ‘friend’, but Cadance could see the way the ‘friend’ looked at Night Light. And at Velvet, too, come to think of it. They brought home a lot of ‘friends’ after that, sometimes stallions, sometimes mares, but rarely the same one more than once. At some point they’d stopped even trying to hide it, and would even come through the door kissing whomever they’d brought back for the night.
Cadance had nothing against it, of course. The two were clearly very much in love, and what business was it of hers if they wanted to bring others into the bedroom with them?
But when the door opened that night, it opened for one pony alone.
Night Light.
That happened too, sometimes. Sometimes only Night Light or Velvet would come back, presumably after the other had found somepony they wanted to keep all to themselves. Or maybe somepony who was less keen on the idea of a threesome. Either way, the lone returning pony never seemed all that put out. Especially Night Light.
Especially recently.
And when he opened the door alone that night, a little shiver of anticipation darted down her back.
“Heya Mr Light,” she said, reclining back a little further on the couch. Cadance hoped it looked natural. He probably knew it wasn’t anyway.
Night Light smiled, his eyes glinting in the lantern light as he stepped inside. “You know you can just call me Night, don’t you?”
Cadance shrugged. “I know,” she said. “But do you really want me to?”
“No,” he admitted. His gaze roamed over her, following all her curves, down past the soft puff of fur on her stomach, down past her hips, and then further still to the long, striped socks that came up almost to the bottom of her rump. “Those look good on you.”
With a grin, Cadance flexed one of her hind legs, showing off but making sure to not reveal any more than he needed to see. Not yet, anyway.
“Thanks,” she said, dropping her voice low enough that he had to step closer just to hear her. Reeling him in, step by step. “I hoped you’d like them.”
And that was the truth. He’d been forefront in her mind when she’d bought them, and she’d slipped them on tonight in the hopes that he would enjoy them. That it might convince him to come back alone. She couldn’t say for sure, of course, but from the almost hungry look in his eyes, she was pretty sure they’d done exactly what she wanted.
“Did you have a good night?” she asked. He took a few more steps towards the couch, and she was careful to make sure her legs were stretched out enough that he couldn’t just sit down beside her. That would be much less fun.
He nodded. “We found this drop-dead gorgeous stallion. I’ve never seen Velvet so giddy before.” A flicker of something across his face. “I’m a little jealous I don’t get to play with him myself.”
Cadance crossed her legs, and the tension in the air tightened like a drawn bowstring. She watched him swallow, watched his eyes widen a little as he drank her in and she raised her waist a little in response, still careful not to show him anything he really wanted to see.
“Aw, why don’t you?” she asked.
“He doesn’t like stallions.” Night Light was right beside her now, and still she stayed reclined, still she made sure that if he wanted her he would have to make the move and release the tension all at once. “It’s a shame,” he continued, “mares are usually so much more receptive to the idea than stallions are.” His own voice low, now – deep and rumbling. “But it makes the ones that do come back even better.”
“That is a shame,” said Cadance. The tension grew. Night Light’s breathing quickened. “So,” she said, biting her lip, “what are you gonna do while you wait for Velvet to get back?”
There was a moment, one perfect moment where she saw everything that was about to happen, all that tension so perfectly built and balanced in the final moment of his restraint. And then the bowstring snapped, and he was on top of her, and she let out a playful shriek until his lips found hers and silenced her with a kiss, and there was no romance in it at all – nothing but pure, desperate desire – and that was exactly what she wanted. It was why she had teased him, coaxed him. He was always so forceful when she did that, and tonight was no exception.
The very first time, when she had been naive and curious, he was gentle. Caring. And then after he’d been less so. And now if he were to be anything even resembling gentle Cadance would have been disappointed, and he knew that as well as she did. It was why she riled him up, why when she’d showed up at the start of the evening she was sure to give him as many glances at her rump as he could sneak without Velvet noticing, why she’d worn these socks, why she’d played so innocent even as she stretched and showed off in front of him. Because that was the game. Because it wasn’t fun if he wasn’t desperate for her, if he didn’t throw her across the bed before mounting her and rutting her roughly into the mattress.
Cadance wondered if they’d even make it to the bedroom tonight. Night Light was so wound up, even more so than usual, and each of his kisses was full of his need and want. She was immersed in his embrace, drowned in his warm fur and the taste and musky scent of him, and when she felt his hard length pressing against her stomach she only held him closer. When she felt his jaw tighten as her soft fur brushed against his cock she only bucked her hips upwards. And when he grunted a little, unable to keep his lust at bay, she grinned.
“Fuck, Cadance,” he breathed, “what if Twilight were to come down?”
“She won’t,” Cadance answered, as her hoof slid between them. “She never does.”
Night Light looked ready to protest further, and then Cadance’s hoof found him and any reluctance was quickly replaced by shivers and pleasured gasps. She knew exactly how to make him squirm, exactly what he liked as her hoof gently caressed his shaft. Gentle for now, so he would be rough later.
He was so hard against her hoof, so hot, and with every brush against him she could feel it pulse a little, feel him twitch and strain in her grip. And when she reached lower still, enough to reach and caress his balls, she could tell it was all he could do not to buck his hips forwards against her touch. All he could do to keep from fucking her right there on the couch.
But still he restrained himself, still he held back. And it only made Cadance want to toy with him even more.
“Did you tell Velvet what you were going to do with me?” she murmured, still stroking, still teasing.
“She suggested it,” Night Light grunted. “Since I don’t get to fuck the stallion.”
Another squeeze. Another stroke.
“Do you think she gets jealous that she never gets to play with me like you do?”
He nodded, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. “I know she does.”
Cadance smiled, and leaned in to whisper in Night’s ear. “But I like getting you all to myself,” she said. “I don’t want to share.”
A sharp sting as he nipped at her ear, one that hurt in just the right way. “That’s not what this is,” he growled. “You know that.”
“Just for tonight?”
Night Light backed off a little, no longer biting but now gentler kisses against her neck. “Tonight I’m all yours.”
She gave him a pointed look.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice rumbling again in that way that always made her thighs squeeze together a little. “Tonight you’re all mine.”
But just for tonight.
But it was tonight, so forget that for now. Just enjoy his caresses and bites and kisses and the way his length pressed against her. And then it was finally all too much for him and he gripped her waist and flipped her over onto her stomach, bent over the arm of the couch with her rump towards him.
And she let him, of course, because it was exactly what she’d been waiting for.
Cadance kept her tail covering herself just long enough for him to tug it to one side in frustration, and finally she was fully on display for him, looking back over her shoulder to see the raw lust so plain on his face, and then his muzzle was against her and his tongue pressing into her and she was already so wet that she knew she’d be drenching his face, that he would be tasting so much of her.
“Fuck,” she breathed, as his tongue delved into her, but then it pulled back as he paused, ignoring her needy whine of disappointment as he straightened up behind her.
“What would your Aunt say if she heard you talking like that?”
Oh. It was going to be like that, was it?
“Why, are you going to tell her?” Cadance asked, and she could feel her marehood winking in desperation, see his eyes snap down as it did, unable to keep himself from staring. “Tell her everything we’ve been doing?” Shifting slightly, pressing back against him, his gaze still locked to her rump. “Tell her how hard you’ve fucked her niece?”
This time Night Light said nothing at her vulgarity, did nothing, save for a slight catch of his breath.
“I didn’t think so,” she said.
“You’ve got some bite to you tonight, haven’t you?” he asked, but there was no malice in it.
Yes. But only for tonight.
She tried not to let the twinge of bitterness show, tried to just keep looking sultry and sexy for him instead. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.
“Or maybe you’re just impatient,” he murmured, and then his head lowered again and his tongue was back where it was supposed to be and oh fuck he was good at that how was he so good at that?
Practice, she supposed, and then she was thinking of all the other mares he must have done this with too, how many times he must have done this with Velvet, and then she was concentrating on the pleasure again in the hopes that the feel of his tongue would push out all those other thoughts.
And it did. It pushed out everything else as she moaned and writhed against him, as his tongue pulled back a little to oh so gently flick against her clit, as he dove back into her and she could only sigh and bite her lip and murmur his name and how good it felt and fuck yes just like that keep doing that.
The benefits of an older stallion, one who knew exactly what he was doing, one who was able to pay her back for earlier with teasing of his own, now. One who could always do this to her, make her shudder and moan so loud she was worried Twilight would hear from all the way upstairs, biting down on her hoof to quiet herself. And if anything Night Light only took it as a challenge, his tongue only pushing her to be louder, squirm harder, his firm grip on her rump keeping her steady in his grasp no matter how much she shivered and stiffened under his practised assault.
She was his mare, every time, and he was her stallion, just for tonight, and as she pressed her hips back against him, instinctively searching for something to rut her, his muzzle pushed into her. Rather than backing off as she expected, Night Light embraced his new position, reaching ever deeper, ever further, ever more and more. Reaching all those places her hoof never could, her magic never satisfied. There was nothing like it, nothing that could replace it, and ever since the first time she’d only ever wanted more.
And then it happened so rarely that each time was tinged with disappointment that it would be so long until the next time.
No. None of that. Just focus on tonight. You have him for tonight.
And she did have him, and when he finally pulled free and she looked back to see his muzzle coated in her and he simply ran his tongue over his lips to clean them, it was her turn to drink the sight in instead.
“Rut me,” she demanded, her pure wanton need drenching each syllable. It was almost bestial, not an order, but an emotion. Her body yearned for him so badly that she didn’t even know she was going to say it until she already had.
“As if you had to ask,” Night Light said, and then he was above her, pushing her needily flicking tail out of the way again as his length pressed against her, one hoof guiding him in as the other held her hips tightly. Holding her steady, holding her firm.
And then he was pushing forwards, and he let out that grunt of satisfaction that was so unique to this moment, only ever when he first entered her, on that sent goosebumps prickling over her skin. And there was always something special about it, as she felt herself open for him, felt herself start to stretch around him, felt his length push deeper and deeper into her and she bit down even harder on her hoof this time because otherwise she really would have woken Twilight up. Further. Deeper. Fuller.
And finally he was all the way inside, and he paused just for a moment to let her adjust, just a moment to catch his own breath, too. And then the moment was over and his hooves seized her waist again and there was no more gentleness in them.
The gentle part was over.
With another grunt, Night Light quickly drew back before slamming himself into her again, hard enough to shove her forwards against the arm of the couch, hard enough that his hips smacked against her rump. This was what she’d been waiting for, this was what she’d been so desperate for, and it was every bit as satisfying as it had ever been, as it always was.
Because it had to be, didn’t it? Or she would never keep hoping, keep wanting him to take her like this, his strong hooves around her, his musk filling the air, his grunts in her ears. Had to be so good that it was worth the times when he didn’t, when he couldn’t, when he and Velvet returned together with their prize in tow and simply showed her the door instead. When she had to walk home, tail damp at the hilt and her body aching for Night, aching for any stallion, and yet all she would have was her hoof and her magic for the night. For far longer than the night.
And so when he hilted inside her it was always exactly what she needed, what she’d been begging for both in her words and her actions. It was what her body had craved for so long, because no matter how good her hoof and magic could be it was never the same. There was no connection, no intimacy. Alone on her bed, hoof between her legs, could never compare to this. His grip on her waist, his panting in her ear as he fucked her, the way his hips smacked against hers and sent a shock of pleasure darting up her spine, the way she bumped hard against the soft arm of the couch with every one of his thrusts.
Her hoof would never make her tremble like he could, would never make her shiver and gasp at the feel of him inside her, and she tightened around him feeling that thick ridge and every other contour of his cock besides, like she was moulded around him. Like she was made for him.
Night Light’s hooves moved to her shoulders to get a better hold, to allow him to thrust even deeper, even harder, taking everything he wanted from her. Giving her everything she needed. Each thrust accompanied by a grunt, a moan that she tried and mostly failed to keep quiet. She wondered what Twilight would think if she did hear this, if she snuck out of her bedroom to peek down the stairs and saw her father bending her foalsitter over the couch and rutting her brains out, saw the blissful expression on Cadance’s face, Night Light gritting his teeth as he buried himself inside her. Wondered what Twilight would do if she heard the pants and the moans and the fuck yes harder rut me just like that. And then Night Light hit that spot inside Cadance that her hoof never did and she stopped caring.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled above her, and her heart beat even faster at his words. “I never get used to it.”
Maybe you would if we did it more often.
Another twinge, another pang. She pushed it aside.
“Better than those other mares you bring back?” she asked.
“Always,” came his answer. But she heard the hesitation. She heard the lie.
“...better than Velvet?”
His hooves on her shoulders tightened their grip enough to actually hurt a little. “Careful,” he warned. “Don’t push it.”
But she wanted to push it. She wanted to push him; see what he’d do, see what he’d say. Most likely he’d stop, she knew. Most likely he’d pull out of her and leave her so empty and send her home, alone and unsatisfied.
...but maybe he wouldn’t.
Maybe instead he’d only get more excited, fuck her harder, say it was to teach her a lesson but they would both know the truth. And had he twitched inside her when she’d asked? Cadance thought he had. Cadance thought he’d already answered the question.
But maybe it was all just wishful thinking. Maybe it was her lust-addled mind making her feel exactly what she wanted to, maybe the bruises he would inadvertently leave on her shoulders – hidden under her fur – were out of restraint, not passion. Most likely all of those things. But just for a moment Cadance let herself believe the opposite.
Another shudder, another spark.
"Fuck, you’re so needy, aren’t you?” His words seemed callous, but she knew they weren't. She knew they were part of the game.
“Yes,” she gasped. It felt like there was no air left to speak with, his thrusts driving it all from her and leaving her breathless and quivering.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes.” Louder, but still he was unsatisfied. A noise of disapproval over her shoulder, followed by a sharp swat against her rump that made her clench instinctively around his still rapidly thrusting length.
“I still can’t hear you. Do you want me to stop?” More games.
“No, please… I need it.”
“What do you need?”
“You.” Desperate, wanting, uncaring about hiding it anymore, about teasing him. The game was over. He’d won.
He always won.
His hoof gripped her ponytail, pulling her head back and she yelped a little from his rough treatment, even as another tremor ran through her marehood.
“Do you want to cum?”
She tried to nod, but his hold on her mane was too tight and she could barely wiggle in response.
“That’s not an answer. Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want to cum,” she moaned, her wings fluttering slightly as his hoof ran almost gently over her feathers, entirely at odds with his rough hold of her mane, with his hard, fast thrusts that made the couch creak.
“No,” he reprimanded. Another spank. Another shudder. “Say it properly. Beg for it.”
And so she did. “Please. Don’t stop. I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me cum.”
“Better.” He let her mane slide free, let her head drop forward again, and Cadance was almost a little disappointed. “Isn’t it better when you admit it?”
It was always better when he asked her to, at least. Demanded her to. Always better when he made her beg and moan and desperately plead him to fuck her harder and hold her tighter and not to let go, not until she was lost in a shaky mess after cumming so hard she forgot who she even was.
And he could do that every time.
Tonight would be no different. She could already feel the first jolts of pleasure start to bloom across her skin in waves of heat, could feel herself twitching and clenching around him. Could feel her hooves start to go weak, not that it mattered. He was already holding her in place, balanced perfectly over the couch’s arm, and her back hooves were mostly useless beneath him. Her wings flitted restlessly, and as she was shaking and shuddering and sighing Night Light leaned in and gave her horn a deft lick.
Fuck she loved it when he did that. He always saved it, always waited until she was so deep in her pleasure that she forgot he would, forgot he always did. A lot of the unicorn mares she knew always complained about how hard it was to get their stallions to lick their horns, how they all thought it was too ‘emasculating’. Night Light never had any such qualms, and he was so good with his tongue, and she wondered if he just liked showing off his talent.
Cadance didn’t care; he could show off all night as far as she was concerned.
Not that he needed to. Her climax was already fast approaching, that familiar cresting pleasure starting to rise up through her, the mounting surge that began where they were connected and then suffused over her skin.
“It’s okay,” Night Light growled. He knew she was close. He always knew. “You can cum.”
And as if her body had been waiting for his permission – and maybe it had been – Cadance let go as her orgasm ripped through her, as her moans reached a new crescendo and the world dwindled until there was nothing but the feel of him inside her, nothing but their gasping breaths and shivering and shuddering and moaning. Nothing but her and Night Light, nothing else mattering, nothing else to even think about. Just the two of them and the spikes of pleasure that wracked through her as he kept fucking her, never stopping never slowing.
He just kept going, kept thrusting, and with each one dragged another ecstatic cry from her, sent another burst rolling through her skin. She was so hot, too hot, never hot enough, and she wished she was face to face with Night Light so she could pull him tighter, pull him in for the kiss that she so desperately wanted to give him, to hold him intimately and love him and appreciate him.
But instead he held her beneath him and all she could do was stare at the carpet, one hoof on the small of her back, the other on her hips as he rutted her, as he made her his mare. And so she stared down at the floor and bit her hoof against and let herself soak in the sensation and she tried not to wish too hard that they were on the bed instead, tried not to wish too hard that he would be a little bit more affectionate, a little less detached.
Because that wasn’t what this was. And he was right: she knew it.
And she also knew that he was close to cumming too, she could feel him twitching inside her as she settled into her afterglow. Could hear it in his uneven breaths, could sense it as his grip on her waist dug in even harder, not just fucking her anymore but pulling her back onto him with each and every thrust, pushing himself as deep as he could, each one harder and more determined than the last. Each one sending a little aftershock up her spine.
“Fuck,” he whispered, shakily. “Are you ready?”
Of course she was. As if he had to ask.
But she nodded anyway, and then he buried himself inside her and she felt the twitch, heard his masculine grunt as his lust was sated (and fuck did he sound so good when he did that) and then she felt warmth pulse into her as he came. A few more erratic thrusts, each accompanied by another burst of heat, each filling her a little more, and then he finally collapsed down on top of her, and together they slid back onto the couch proper as his cock softened and slid out of her.
Another kiss, another embrace, wrapped up in each other once again in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Except that wasn’t really the right word for it, was it? Fucking. Rutting. Those were much closer to the truth of it than lovemaking could ever be. And no matter how intimate it felt to be entwined with him again after, no matter how nice it was to rest her head on his chest and hear how rapidly his heart beat, Cadance knew it was only temporary. Only part of the game. And soon the game would be over and she’d have a shower and wash the cum from her still tingling marehood and then she’d go home and that would be it. Until the next time, at least, and that would be so far away.
Too far.
Night Light sighed happily, his hoof making little circles against her shoulder. “That was great, Cadance.”
“Yes, “ she murmured. “It was.”
“We should get up, though. Velvet’ll be pissed if we get the couch dirty.”
“It might be too late for that.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
There was a long moment, neither wanting to shift from their position, Cadance draped over his chest and enjoying the warmth of his fur.
“Okay, five more minutes,” he said, eventually.
She thought that sounded just fine.
***
Cadance chewed her lip as she considered what to say. She should have told Shining sooner, really. It wasn’t like she’d lied to him, though. Of course not, she would never lie to him. She’d just decided it was probably better not to mention it if he didn’t ask. He probably wouldn’t want to know the truth: that she’d slept with his father before they started dating.
Several times.
And Night Light had taken the same approach. Anything between them had come to an end as soon as she became Shining’s marefriend, naturally, and he had never mentioned it again. Not when she and Shining had gotten serious, not when they’d announced their plans to marry, and not even in private. Cadance wasn’t even sure if Shining knew about his parents’ open relationship. She thought he must have some idea, some inkling, but maybe not. Maybe this would be two revelations to share instead of one.
Okay, here goes nothing.
“So,” she began, a little too quickly, trying to get the words out before she thought better of it. “It wasn’t a proper relationship, but I-”
“Actually, you know what?” said Shining, quickly cutting her off. “I don’t want to know.”
“Are… are you sure?”
He nodded. “It doesn’t matter. I love you, and you love me. What do I care what happened before?”
Relief surged through her like a tidal wave. She pressed herself against her husband, kissing him deeply, letting herself melt into his powerful embrace. “I love you so much,” she murmured. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter.”
And it was the truth. The thing with Night Light had been nothing. Nothing like this, nothing like the flutter in her chest that happened whenever she so much as saw Shining’s face, the little jump her heart gave whenever he kissed her. Until Shining reminded her, she’d almost forgotten those foalsitting nights.
So better to not tell him. Not if he didn’t want to know. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, after all. And besides, it wasn’t her fault that she had a type.
When their kiss finally ended they were both short of breath, and Cadance could feel a slight stirring against the inside of her thigh.
“Oh, is someone ready for round two?” she said with a knowing smirk. She loved how easy it was to get him excited, how much she turned him on even now, after so many times.
Because he still did exactly the same to her.
“For you, always,” Shining said, his hooves wandering down to her rump and giving it a playful squeeze. “Especially when you’re wearing those socks.”
