Special Delivery

by pjabrony

Rating: mature
Tags: Comedy, Rarity, Sex, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Second Person
Length: 1707

Second-personXRarity, in tribute to GorisTheDeathClaw

(2nd person story with Rarity) You have to deliver Rarity's fabric.Will you be delivering her something more?

(Rated M for some sexual content)

Dedicated to, and written in the style of, GorisTheDeathClaw, who is awesome.

Published 2012-08-10 06:14:05 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-10 06:14:05 UTC

Special Delivery

Your job as a delivery colt takes you all over the town. Your friends always tease you about all the housemares inviting you in for a little something extra, a tip for good service, so to speak, but everyone including you knows that that’s just a legend.

Still, when you got the word from your boss that you had to haul a cart of fabric over to Carousel Boutique, you could not help feeling just a bit happy at the chance to see Rarity herself. There are lots of cute ponies in town, but you know that Rarity is a cut above the rest. And a unicorn to boot! Earth ponies like you never get to date unicorns. Only the most bold of your friends tell stories about getting it on with pegasus fillies. Even the liars know that nopony will believe them if they say they scored with a unicorn.

But still, it’s a chance to see her, to breathe the same air that she does, to maybe hear her dulcet voice say, “Thank you.” You hitch up your cart and don’t even notice the long walk. The time goes by quickly as you indulge in the fantasy of what you would like to do with her if you got the chance.

You reach the boutique and knock on the door with your hoof. Stop daydreaming you tell yourself. Probably her little sister will take the delivery, and she won’t even be at home. Then your next delivery will be another supply of ointment to Granny Smith.

“Coming!” The voice shakes you awake and you pull yourself up to your full height. It’s really her.

The door opens, and you see her face. That mane, the way she wears it in that wave and curls her tail too. You would like nothing better than to run your face into that mane right after she comes out of the shower, with the smell of fresh shampoo. Her skin and fur is flawless. You regularly have to deliver crates of supplies to the spa, and you flash back to the one time you saw her there. She must spend a fortune to look like that. But she can afford it.

“Can I help you?” she asks. She blinks her eyes. Her eyes. Those long lashes. You’ve heard rumors that they were fake, but you don’t believe them. They have to be just jealous ponies who think she’s too stuck up. And the eyes themselves. You could just stare into them forever.

“Helloooo!” she says, and you realize that you have been staring at them. Shaking your head, you say, “Oh, um, excuse me, SpeedyGallop Delivery Service, Miss. You have an order. . . I mean, I have an order to give you. . . I mean, I have your fabrics!”

She laughs at how tongue-tied you are. Smooth, real smooth, loser, you think. Now she thinks you’re some kind of subnormal pony, if she didn’t think that already by your job.

“Oh, of course!” she says. “You can just stack the boxes here, and I’ll go through them later.”

“I’d be happy to help you put everything away,” you say.

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” she says. But her tone is more like a mother saying it to a child. It’s not encouraging.

You go to the wagon and get the first box and the delivery receipt. Holding the clipboard in your mouth, you gently set down the box and say through clenched teeth, “I need to get your signature, Miss Rarity.”

“Oh, of course,” she says. The quill pen glows with her magic and then floats point-first on the paper. Its graceful movements curl out a fancy cursive “Rarity.” You plan to get a copy of this manifest and keep it. Maybe you’ll start a shrine to her.

She floats the pen back and the feather tickles your nose. The last thing you want to do is sneeze all over her and the paper. You breathe in heavily and throw the clipboard down. With your muzzle free, you throw your hoof over your nose and sneeze into it.

“Gesundheit,” Rarity says. The beautiful Rarity actually wished you good health. You must be dreaming. You struggle for a way to return the compliment.

“Thank you. You know, I really like your. . . “ Think, pony! What do you like best about her?

“, , , magic!” you blurt out.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just so impressed with how you can do everything from sewing dresses to signing your name all with your horn.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Any unicorn can do it with practice.”

You fall back into drooling admiration. After a few moments, she says, “Er. . . about the boxes?”

“Oh, right,” you say, and head back out to grab more of the fabric.

It’s long work, but you’ve never enjoyed your job more. Rarity is opening the boxes as you bring them in and showing off how impressed she is with what you’ve brought. She’s floating some into cubbyholes and other’s she’s keeping in the boxes. You’re just happy to see her happy.

Finally only one box remains on the wagon. You pick it up and walk slowly. After this you’re back to the old grind. You pick it up and head in.

“This is it, ma’am,” you say. She turns her head to look at you, and you’re so caught up in her face that you don’t notice the roll of fabric at your hooves. You tumble forward, losing your balance. Rarity senses your distress, but she can’t get out of the way in time. You go sprawling with her beneath you, and as you finish your crash to the ground, your lips and hers meet.

“Mmff!” she screams. You quickly pull your head away, but it’s too late. You kissed her and she knows it. You brace yourself to be slapped by a hoof or hurled back by magic. But after three seconds, nothing has happened. You open your eyes and look at hers.

They’re not angry. They’re not frightened. They have a look that you don’t quite recognize. Then she smiles, a sexy, welcoming smile, and she says, “Well, dear boy. How did you know that I like aggressive ponies? Maybe I do need some help with these boxes after all. Would you care to join me in my boudoir?”

You’re only an Earth pony, but you think you can fly. She’s already walking toward the stairs, floating some of the sheer fabric behind her. It dances and moves in the air, touching her body playfully. She looks over her shoulder and gives you a “come and take me” look.

As quick as if you were in a race, you run up the stairs into her private room. It’s filled with pink lace and puffy things. There would only be one reason you would be caught in such a room, but fortunately it’s the reason you’re there.

Remembering that she said she liked your aggression, you move up toward her and say, “So, where are the boxes?”

“There’s only one box I have that I need help with.” She turns her flank to you and struts to the bed. Once she’s lying there, your inhibitions break. You leap onto the bed with her and rub her shoulder with your hoof. She returns the gesture.

The excitement of knowing that she really wants you mixes with the physical stimulation. You can feel yourself getting excited between your back legs already. But you want to take it slow. If the boss writes you up for taking too long, it’s going to be completely worth it.

You kiss her on the lips, and this time you don’t hold back. You run your tongue over hers, and her sweet breath fills your nostrils. She’s so soft, as though her whole body were made of jelly and pillow stuffing.

You’ve enjoyed her mouth, and now you want to move upward. You lift your head and kiss her on her nose, then raise your head again. She understands and closes her eyes. You give her a gentle kiss on each, and then start to move faster. You give her repeated pecks on the eyes and forehead as you slip your back leg in between hers. You can feel the hot wetness on your calf, and you rub your leg to spread it into your fur.

“Oooh,” she moans. You’ve got her right where you want her. Now is the moment. You shift your leg up and slide your whole body on the bed. You can see her horn right in front of you. You give it one gentle kiss, and then plunge it into your mouth.

Sparks fly across your eyes as pain shoots through your head. Your instinctive reaction is to rear up, but since you’re lying down, all that does is knock you out of bed. Another bump on the head and you’re in more pain. Rarity is looking down at you.

“What in the name of Celestia’s flank do you think you were doing?!” she screams.

“I was just trying to give you pleasure—“

“By sucking my horn? What kind of sick, twisted pervert are you to think that would turn me on?”

“But I always thought a unicorn’s horn was sensitive,” you say.

“You utter idiot. You’re all the same, you Earth ponies. It’s nothing but keratin, basically the same material as hair and hooves. But you’re probably the kind of sick freak that likes sucking hooves too!”

There’s new pain coming your way. You chipped your tooth on Rarity’s horn. It really was hard material.

“Ow, I think you broke my tooth,” you say.

“I ought to break your neck, you creep! Get out!” She wipes your saliva off her horn and starts magically throwing everything in the room at you. When a pair of scissors and a pin cushion almost eviscerate you, you get to your hooves and run downstairs. You grab the wagon and gallop away.

Now your problems are trying to decide whether to go to the dentist or back to work, and how to hide the erection you still have until it goes down.