Rarity was fussing over the highlights in the third of Twilight's mane-style trials when she saw him for the first time.
Him.
Spike the dragon. The adorable little bundle of underage scales that had wandered into Ponvyille with Twilight that afternoon like an armadillo in that one famous movie about a family of ponies who finds an armadillo and lives with it1.
Him, though. Spike the dragon. Rarity had heard all sort of stories, looked all sorts of... colorful, fancy illustrations from around, well, anywhere she could get them. But always an artist's interpretation never... the real thing, in the scales, eyeing her awkwardly from afar, no doubt hoping she wouldn't notice his peeking gaze.
Oh, she had noticed, alright. And something in the back of Rarity's mind went into overdrive. An instinct right between 'mother' and 'lover' that came out 'horny, deliberate seductress'. The target was right in front of her eyes. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
"Hmm..." Rarity said to herself aloud, suddenly, making a 'tsk-tsk' with her tongue and pulling away from her attempt at giving Twilight a stylish perm. "No, this simply won't do. I think we'll have to start from the ground up. Apply some exfoliating lotion, and something to do about all those split ends..." Rarity tsk'd again, holding up a supposedly guilty strand of Twilight's mane in her hoof.
"Um, thank you, for all this, but we really have to—"
"Oh not at all, my dear, never you worry. We're just getting started. Now, take these—" Rarity shoved a stack of hair-care products, shampoos conditioners and after-care gels, into Twilight's hooves. Twilight struggled to balance the tiny tower, letting the final bottle teeter nervously on the edge of its balance. "—and head into the bathroom. It's the first room down the hall on your left. Treat yourself to a nice, warm shower—" Rarity threw a pristine white towel to Twilight over-top of the hair-care products, which covered Twilight's face as well. "—and when you're all done, we'll have you out the door looking as fresh as a daisy! Or, well... perhaps something slightly more chique. Are violets in season this time of year, perhaps? Or maybe a carnation bouquet..."
Twilight found herself opening her mouth to protest, only to shut it wordlessly. The voice in the back of her own head said "the longer you try to fight it, the worse it's going to get."
Go have a shower, it said afterwards. It'll be nice to get away from all these crazy ponies for a moment.
Good point, Twilight said back. She smiled to herself and headed down the hall to the bathroom.
Rarity waited until she heard the soft clunk of the door shutting, and the latching of the knob into place, before she spun and turned her gaze on the tiny dragon still standing awkwardly in a corner of the room. The second Rarity looked at him, Spike stared straight down at the ground and kicked the dust nervously, trying his best to hide the fact that he had been staring with hearts in his eyes since the second he walked in to Carousel Boutique.
At the benefit of Spike's oblivious downward stare, Rarity smiled the most nefarious smile she could muster. It was time to be very, very bad.
"My heavens. Have you been waiting patiently there this whole time? And our miss Twilight didn't even take the time to introduce you." Rarity curved her smile into a more welcoming grin and extended a lady-like hoof to her tiny would-be suitor.
Overcome as he was by stammering, Spike still managed to take Rarity's hoof into his claws, eyes beaming, and kiss it gently. Just like he'd imagined when he first walked in.
Rarity held her other hoof to her mouth and giggled to herself. Perhaps this was going to be easier than she'd thought.
"Rarity," she said. "Absolutely charmed. And you, my dear?"
"Huh?" Spike shook his head slightly, his eyes unfocused, staring in the general direction of Rarity and then phasing out into space. He managed to remember where he was after a moment. But the pony in front of him was something from a dream. "Oh, right... I'm, uh, Spike. Spike the dragon."
"So you are a dragon!" Rarity's smile gleamed brilliantly at Spike as she wormed her way closer, putting her foreleg around the whole of Spike's tiny dragon body and pulling him against her.
Spike could feel the warmth of Rarity's coat against his miniature purple scales. A shiver ran down his spine, and a sigh eked its way out of his chest.
"Yeah..." Spike said absentmindedly, half in response to Rarity, half out of pure bliss, his body already floating away on some cloud in the heavens, just to be next to a pony this beautiful, a pony who wanted to talk to and pay attention to him... if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up2.
"Well, I must admit... even in all my cultured affairs, vacationing around Equestria on business and pleasure... I've never . . . . .'d a baby dragon before. Tell me... do your scales require any special upkeep?" Rarity raised a hoof to the spines protruding from Spike's back. Slowly, in a single, languid motion, she stroked along the length of the spines, all the way down to the tip of Spike's tail, and then back up to the base of his neck. She finished with a tiny circle on that spot, rewarding herself with multiple shivers and another self-contained giggle.
"My... scales?" Spike looked just for a second at the place Rarity had touched him, half-expecting it to glow with a new golden sheen. "Uh..." Then he looked back at Rarity. And it was his first chance to really take a look at her.
Spike had felt his heart beat faster the moment he stepped inside the boutique, and before now he'd thought that was just some cliche that ponies wrote about in stories. I mean, he'd legitimately wondered if he had a previously undiagnosed fatal heart condition or something. Then he started to get short of breath, and his head got all floaty and his vision got all blurry and if it was any other circumstance he would have put himself under government-approved quarantine.
But there was her.
Spike had never seen anypony so adult or sophisticated before. Coming from Canterlot, it was one thing for every other pony to put on airs of sophistication, fancy garments they'd spent loads of bits importing only to wear for one week before they became suddenly and dramatically unwearable. Hob-knobbing with the princess, taking every opportunity just to drink punch in their vicinity if it meant somepony had seen you do it. Giving in-depth music reviews of over-produced pop albums from thirty years ago... wait, what was that last one?
Something about Rarity oozed authority—not the scary kind, like Twilight yelling for help carrying study supplies, or a police pony shouting over his shoulder in the street and filling him with the sudden sensation he was guilty of every crime yet invented and some that hadn't been, even though he hadn't done anything illegal since he'd stolen that package of bubblegum when he was two, and he didn't think anypony knew about that anyway, unless they'd just found out now, and were coming to lock him down. He'd be better off just turning himself in, probably. But then somepony had run off in the other direction carrying a comically large sack with a weird cross-thru 'S' on it, and the police pony had seemed much more interested in that, and Spike had a long time to think about what to do with the year's collection of sweat he had rapidly accumulated.
Rarity was demure. Regal, almost, even though Spike was certain the only pony royalty worth paying much attention to was Princess Celestia. Even though she wasn't an alicorn, her mane seemed to shimmer and glow just like the rainbow tapestry that made up Princess Celestia's. And a shimmer surrounded her, as though her fur had been brushed by hoof a hundred times, a thousand maybe, or was made of pure silk...
Maybe there was a secret, royal lineage, running even deeper than alicorn blood, and the pristine white and purple pony Spike had fallen in love with was the last remaining heir to that heritage of beauty and sublime resonance. Spike made a mental note to look up what the word 'sublime' meant again. Every time he checked, the definition seemed to change, as though somepony was rewriting it based on a dice-roll every afternoon. Very odd. Or sublime. Maybe?
For a reason just outside the periphery of his ability to be conscious of it (and therefore most likely because it was the result of repressed childhood trauma or parental insufficiency, or both), Rarity reminded Spike of his mother. No, not Twilight... she was more like a bossy older sister who was too busy barking chores at him and leaving her dirty underwear around to be interesting or sexy. But Rarity... did she even wear underwear? Did it have... Spike felt a huge gulp like a solid stone go down his throat... did it have... lace?
There was the way she looked at him, tilting her head down just a bit, her eyes closed just a little. Smiling at him, softly, as if to say "Spike, darling, I've waited so long to meet you."
I can't wait to show you what we're going to do together, came the other half, unspoken in Rarity's sneaky subdued grin. 'Motherly' was about what she was going for. 'Head instructor with a schoolboy fetish' wasn't far off either though. Because there was that to talk about.
Spike was an adorable little thing, of course. Only about the size of a colt or filly from Ponyville. But not, therefore, the same level of maturity. Dragons and ponies were much different, after all. And it was that difference, or rather, the resultant overlapping Venn diagrams that Rarity couldn't help but focus her attention on.
Always, she'd had a fantasy, or more like a dream, she would call it, as the pieces were blurry and came together only when her focus was elsewhere, impossible to recapture even from the immediate exit from the dream-world that came right before waking up. Always, she knew, it was her in control. Not a strict control, nothing like the efficiency she snapped to-and-fro in the boutique with, yanking thread and spinning wheels and tossing needles about haphazardly with only practice to protect her from spearing something important. A more reassuring, gentle control, as though she was guiding the last seam on a dress to its final stitch. Or watching over somepony's back as they held the needle, guiding them with her own hoof as they laced it with thread. She had imagined a cute little colt, smiling up from her lap as she smiled back at him, a little kiss on the forehead.
Of some young pony, eyes wide in disbelief, as she gave that same, motherly smile, and lowered her dripping slit onto their underage cock.
Rarity shivered. That was how it always ended. That and a bit of cleanup afterwards. Rarity was a very immersive dreamer.
But a dragon? A real life, in the flesh-and-claws-and-scales actual baby dragon? Who could smell gems and breath fire and seemed already rich and mature with strange, foreign dragon smells Rarity had never encountered before, like mixed earth and gunpowder... Ooh. She could feel herself yielding already, prematurely. Get it together, girl. We've waited this long already.
And it was nothing like a plan. Rarity had always fancied herself a seductress, a lusty and vivacious lover raised exclusively on a diet of Canterlot romance novels and no actual real life experience, except for a series of long-distance trysts by post that she'd had the months after discovering the 'Ponely No-More' singles service. Apparently after the part where you exchanged salacious descriptions about what you envisioned yourself doing to your absentee partner's theoretical body, and they wrote back with more of the same, there wasn't really much that Rarity was interested in, romantically, from the textual format. She needed something real, next to her, standing or sitting or just there for her to reach out and touch. She'd parted with her suitors on good terms, anyway. She still had their letters, in a box upstairs in the second drawer of her bedside table.
It was more like... when she was young, just a filly, and she'd seen those movie posters and novel covers and photos in magazines of the fancy colts from Canterlot, or the even more eye-catching ones from overseas, who to young Rarity had seemed strange and foreign, and as a result even more exotic and desirable. Griffons and Zebras and Yaks and anything else she could imagine, there was a whole world of perfectly-carved available bachelors, and she lusted over them in secret long into her teens, cradling a deep-down wonder if she'd ever be able to count herself pretty enough to fit among the mares in a gender-equivalent magazine some day in the future.
She'd taken a lot of care of herself, since young, since always. She still did. And she'd been with stallions, one or two. But the whole thing was always so... rehearsed. As though she'd seen the blueprint in a play once, and now was meant to recreate it with her best half-remembered lines and awkward stage directions. Did they kiss now? When was the kiss? After the kiss, stage-lights? When did the musical number happen? When do I bow?
None of them seemed interesting outside the first few dates anyway. Simply over-sized colts, interested in kissing and bucking but not much else.
Spike was a green-and-purple treasure trove waiting to be uncovered.
And Rarity had a talent for finding gems.
But that was forward. Now, the two of them were simply alone together.
'Alone together' could go a long way, in Rarity's experience.
The hardest part—she surmised for herself, at the beginning of things, no less—would be keeping her intentions well enough disguised not to overwhelm the poor thing. To ease him into a world of carnal pleasure, not to douse him in lusty stares and send him running off with his tail between his legs. The word of the art was delicacy. Or depravity. She wasn't sure which yet.
"You know, it's just occurred to me," Rarity said, her eyes shimmer mischievously, "that while miss Twilight is in the shower, it's just the two of us here."
Spike looked around, maybe for help, and found the boutique empty, to Rarity's credit. He swallowed nervously with a loud gulp.
"Why don't you come have a seat next to me, and we can get better acquainted, you and I?" Rarity patted a set of plush, purple velvet cushions that had materialized rather conveniently nearby, one of which she sat in herself.
"Okay!" Spike rocketed forward with his feet scrabbling over the delicate imported rug. The delicate imported rug which, proving adverse to rapid scampering, quickly vacated from under Spike's claws.
Rarity's horn glowed a bright violet, and she caught the tiny dragon, claws still swinging rapidly, and levitated him into the seat next to her. His claws calmed after a few more seconds.
"Oh... uh... thanks," Spike said. He swallowed another of the new and renewing lumps that were setting up shop in the bottom of his throat.
"Not at all my dear. Now, do tell me about yourself. You're from Canterlot as well, correct?" Rarity leaned in slightly towards Spike just nudging him with her shoulder.
Spike tried in vain to keep his eyes from flickering to the brief contact point. He returned his eyes to Rarity's, but found it equally challenging to stare directly into such a beautiful object.
"Um... yeah." It was the best he could manage.
"Good heavens! Such a debonair and diminutive draconic flair! You must be quite the hit with all the ladies in Canterlot, I'd wager." Rarity's motherly grin shifted subtly into a smirk, but she caught it, and corrected herself after a brief moment.
"Ladies?" Spike looked down at his feet, which couldn't even reach the floor of the boutique from his cushion. "Um... no. Not, uh. Not really."
Rarity held her hooves to the side of her face and gasped audaciously. Gaaaasp. I should get a Whinny award for this, she thought. That's what we're calling them now. Because a horse pun is more important than coherence, according to the board of directors.
"Well, surely they're the ones missing out, my dear." Rarity patted Spike on the top of his head. Spike touched the spot with one of his claws, and stared at the claw afterwards, as though expecting it to glow.
"Yeah..."
"But, you must at least have a filly-friend at your age, no?" Rarity raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"Uh... no. No filly-friend. Not, uh, ever, actually..."
"Never?" Rarity redoubled her feigned shock, swooning a little in her chair for good measure. Never a bad time to suggest you might faint from the pure audacity of a situation. Whatever it was being audacious about. "Well, my dear, that simply won't do. A young thing like yourself should be simply smothered in the affection of the fairer sex..." Rarity put a hoof to her mouth, continuing to follow the choreographing of her hind-brain's insidious impromptu teleprompter. A blender half-full of her favorite romance novels, half-full of genuine, patented, one of a kind Rarity-smut. She could practically taste victory—and it tasted like dragon cum. Which, she assumed, tasted like vanilla yogurt.
"Tell me, Spike... if you and I were on a date right now, what would you do next, hmm?"
"A date?!" Spike felt his heart-rate increase by at least ten beats per minute, and the sweat on his forehead to accompany it. Somepony like Rarity, on a date with him? He'd probably jump for joy and do somersaults of celebration before he got on with anything else. Although..
"Well," Spike said, kicking at the air with his dangling feet, "I guess I'd... well... I'd hug you?"
Rarity practically jumped out of her cushion cheering for him. Her smiled shone brilliantly. "Wonderful! Yes, Spike, a hug is always a splendid idea, as a chance to get to know one another, or just to feel that bit of comfort, having somepony pressed against you... Of course, to ensure no misunderstanding, it is always proper to ask a lady permission first. 'May I hug you', you know, can go a long way, in clearing up potential miscommunications."
"Oh." Spike felt suddenly ten times more nervous. He had to ask permission? What if she said no! On the other claw, what if she said yes... Was that a common expression? Other claw? Spike swore he'd heard 'other hand', but he wasn't sure what exactly a 'hand' was, now that he thought about it... Geez. This was no good. He needed to focus. What if she said yes?!
"Um... Rarity, may I uh... is it okay if I, please, uh... hug, uh, you? Ahem." Spike cleared his throat excessively throughout, and at the end of his query. And then he thought, wait, did I actually say 'ahem' at the end of my sentence? 'Ahem'?
"Of course you may, my dear." Rarity snapped the poor confused thing back to reality by reaching out and taking him into her loving, delightfully forward-thinking embrace.
The warmth was like the ocean, suddenly swallowing him up, in soft blankets and scented candles that made his head spin. Rarity was holding him... pulling him close, so close he was sure he could feel her heart beat against his chest. Her hooves were on his back, snuggling him in closer still. Her nose was nuzzling against his cheek, his cheek, she was practically touching his mouth, no, now she was nuzzling his neckohmigosh what was that feeling—
Spike shivered as the tiny jolt went up his back, like a procession of miniature lightning bolts marching across his scales.
Before he knew it was happening, Rarity had pulled away, leaving just a hoof on one of Spike's shoulders.
"Marvelous. I can tell you're going to be a wonderful student in no time, Spike."
Spike looked nervously downward between his legs, pressing his knees together slightly. "Um... yeah. Thanks... I mean, thank you."
Rarity couldn't hide this smirk. Her unplanned plan was working hashtag perfectly.
"Now, once you've been on a date for a while, and you've hugged once or twice, and discussed each others' interests—imported fashions and a good Prance opera, though we can talk about that later, I'm sure—what do you suppose you might do next, hmm?" Rarity couldn't help the lean in either, nudging herself suspiciously close to her mark. But the target was so tangibly close now. She could feel it against her coat and skin, could almost taste it hiding between those cute little crossed legs...
"Um... after hugging?" Spike was in unfamiliar territory now. What was supposed to happen after that? As far as Spike was aware, hugging was the end-all-be-all of romantic exchange. Except for... but she couldn't mean... unless... no... with him?
"Do you mean... kiss... kissing?" Spike asked, managing to get the words out after several timid pauses.
Rarity nodded at him, her eyes sultry, sparkling eye-shadow glimmering under the boutique's dressing-room light.
Spike swallowed again. This time the lump was lodged permanently in his chest. He cleared his throat, coughed once, but to no avail.
"Spike." Rarity stilled the poor thing, placing a hoof to his lips. "Do you remember to ask permission?"
Spike nodded, his eyes dead-set on Rarity's. Hypnotized.
"Uh-huh," he murmured through her hoof.
"Then go right ahead, my young prince," Rarity said, giggling as she removed her hoof.
"Um... Rarity... may I... oh geez... Can I really kiss you?" Spike couldn't help that either. He jumped up on his cushion, standing as close as he could to Rarity's face. Still much shorter, it wasn't a perfect distance. But then Rarity leaned in, so close their faces were almost touching. Spike could feel her breath on his lips.
"You may," she said simply.
Spike leaned forward and kissed her.
He tried to do it like he had seen in the movies—you put one ~~hand~~claw (somebody call editorial about that - ed)3 on either side of their face, and then you kind of smooshed up your lips, or, you looked like you were eating their mouth while trying to hide their chin at the same time—
Oh.
Real kisses were nothing like that, were they?
It was hard to put into words. If someone had asked Spike to describe the feeling, he probably would have just said "Gjbhuh?" and walked away dazed, remembering the sensation but unable to ever articulate it in anything close to a meaningful way.
Here's a shot.
Rarity was in control, for one. The way she'd kissed him, no waiting to be kissed, felt like she meant business. Spike wasn't used to somepony just using him like that—unless you counted Twilight's chores—and this was a distinctly different and far more overwhelming sensation. Rarity wanted the best for him. Rarity liked him. Rarity cared about him. All that from the way she pulled his head forward and planted her lips on his.
That was the first part.
The second part was that Rarity seemed to really know what a kiss was, and she was taking Spike for a grand tour around every attraction in the park, as long as it was open.
She kissed him harder than he thought kisses happened, for one. It felt like she was smushing her lips into his as hard as she could without being silly about it. And even then... she was a little silly about it. But it made Spike want to be silly too, and suddenly silly didn't feel silly anymore, it felt awesome, and then like a contest to see who could do it more and better.
Rarity went from just kissing, to sneaking her tongue in. She'd lap playfully at Spike's bottom lip, or dance around his tongue inside his mouth, daring him to come out and play for himself. Eventually, Spike joined her, finding his own tongue's urge to play, and then, what an urge. Spike's dragon-tongue was much longer and more flexible than Rarity's, and for the first time, she wondered what exactly she'd gotten herself into as the young lizard began to snake and curl around her tongue, to lick gently at it as she did her best to copy the motion... Ooh, she hadn't just been all talk before. This dragon was good.
Too good to spoil on just one kiss.
As Rarity pulled away, Spike panted to catch his breath. He'd seemed to have forgotten to breathe during the duration of the smooch, and now his chest was ranting at him for it. So be it. A small price to pay for wet-dream fuel for the next ten years.
But Rarity wasn't done yet. And her devilish smirk suited her so, with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly, her lady-like habits stretched into a devil temptress's smile.
Despite all his obvious enthusiasm, Spike was still hiding the one place that counted.
Rarity eyed the young dragon's scrunched up posture with her eyebrow still raised. Spike, oblivious, still reeling from the most chemicals and hormones he'd ever endured in his young brain in the span of a minute, didn't notice Rarity's stare, nor did he notice the soft push of her magic as she spread his legs ever-so-slightly—just enough to give her visual confirmation of the prize she'd been waiting for.
"Do you know what else some ponies like to do on dates that's very fun?" Rarity asked, worming her way as close as she could get to Spike without actually touching him. Letting her warm breath tickle his chest and neck, watching the tingles go up his body.
Spike shook his head. Words were hard now. The 'uh's were already excessive. He sounded worse than Twilight on a book report day. But still, he'd better...
"No?" he wagered, his voice raising slightly.
"Well," Rarity said, her grin beaming, "would you like me to show you?"
Spike nodded, wide-eyed. "Uh-huh," he said.
"Then it would be—" Rarity dove between Spike's legs, and found the delicious morsel she had been eyeing: Spike's painfully hard, underage dragon cock.
She took one good look at it. Pink. A soft pink, almost reassuring. It looked so different than the one's she was used to... without warning, the small dampness in-between her own legs had turned to a flash-flood, and her body was screaming at her to get the act on with so she could really sink her teeth into the morsel in front of her...
Then she put it in her mouth. Halfway, with her tongue circling the tip. And she looked up at Spike, her eyes as wide as she could manage, doe-like, her mouth open obediently, as if to say, "Like this, Mister Dragon, Sir?"
Spike's head spun in more directions than he knew existed. There was no helping it.
"Eek!" Rarity let out a small cry as Spike's cock began to unload into her mouth—onto her mouth—onto her face, and mane, and flank, and pretty much anywhere in the general vicinity...
Other worlds were happening. Spike was on vacation in them, his head tilted back, eyes shut, groaning soft and boyishly as his young balls emptied their first, very full load onto Rarity's waiting tongue.
The bits that Rarity didn't catch in her mouth, she wiped up with a glow of her horn, scooping them up and then swallowing them in a still somehow lady-like manner, with a soft satisfying gulp and a demure wipe of her lips with her hoof afterwards. Like she'd just finished a tea-cake.
"My my. You were quite pent up, weren't you?" Rarity noticed a stray strand of dragon cum dangling off her cheek. She licked it up with a careful reach of her tongue, and the taste sent shivers up her spine. "Ooh. So rich, and virile."
The young dragon remained stunned. Whether his HP had been reduced to zero, or he was simply out for the turn remained to be seen.
But his cock was still hard. Twitching, a little, with a small drop of cum just dribbling out of the tip. Rarity licked her lips as she watched it drip slowly down the still formidable length of Spike's juvenile dick.
"Of course, we can't end things like that... it's understandable, being your first time, you'd be quite excited." Rarity grinned, and dove back between Spike's legs, pushing the dragon's legs apart slightly and giving herself a full delicious eyeful of his still-desperate-for-attention hard-on. Rarity licked her lips again, this time savouring the taste of the cum still left on them. And she was thirsty.
"What are you—oh my gosh. Why does that feel so good?"
"That's because—" Rarity took a moment to lick up and down each side of Spike's cock, lapping up the little bits of cum that had dribbled there and making Spike shake violently in his cushion. "—I'm paying careful attention to the most sensitive parts of your dragonhood. Just under the head here—" She licked the area in question rapidly with her tongue, and Spike howled, leaning so far back in his chair he almost fell out. "—and along the sides, up to the tip... really, there are so many places, it's hard to choose just one... Mmmph..." True to her word, Rarity had swallowed Spike's cock whole this time, bottoming out the shaft just shy of her throat, but still an impressive range for a dragon who'd yet to hit puberty.
Spike's thoughts had discombobulated out of Equestrian and into several languages he didn't even know he spoke. The sensations were too real, and he was enjoying all of them—to have his dick in the mouth of a beautiful pony, an elegant pony, a pony like Rarity... maybe he'd died and this was his reward for being such a good assistant. Maybe Twilight had finally gotten him that Magic Reality console he wanted so much, and this was the first game, only he'd been playing so long, he'd forgotten he was playing, and...
No. This was just his first... what did you call it?
"A 'blowjob', is a rather crass, inelegant term," Rarity said, as though reading his mind, or at least the expositive narrative text. "In my case, a lady might prefer to say... fellatio. As it does sound at least a bit more cultured. Mmmm!" Rarity went full-down on Spike's dick, savouring the way it filled up her mouth, and the way Spike's little hips would buck up each time she swallowed his cock. It was hard to be cultured while trying to get yourself to gag on someone's shaft—but a good lady is nothing if not an improviser.
It seemed like the act could have continued endlessly, either because Rarity would have started again and again each time until Spike died from sexual exhaustion, or because Spike was so overcome by the sensation of his first oral sex that he might have just floated in space until Rarity pulled him back down. But the reverie of both players was broken by the sound of somepony familiar opening the bathroom door and beginning her way down the hallway.
"Sorry I took so long," Twilight's voice came from the hallway. "It took me forever to figure out which tap was for the hot water. Why are there five of them? It seems like the middle two were just for fancy-smelling bubbles..."
"Oh dear," Rarity whispered, pulling her mouth of Spike's cock, which was by now dripping with saliva and the one or two drops of dragon-cum Rarity had failed to lick up. "I didn't imagine we'd be so cut short for time. I suppose this does call for drastic measures." Rarity spared a quick glance around the dressing room, evidently just to play up the act in question. Turning around completely, her nefarious smirk now-hidden, Rarity went to all fours and spread her hind-legs wide. She put one hoof on either side of her slit, and spread that wide too, giving Spike a full view of her soaking wet hole.
"Like what you see?" she asked Spike over her back, and wiggled her rump at him.
"Yes!" Spike came the second he spoke, shooting another sticky load of underage cum in Rarity's direction—this time squarely at her gaping pussy.
Rarity, though she had planned to turn around and catch the rest of the prize in her mouth, found herself strangely unable to move—no magic or arcane interruptions. She simply couldn't help herself from letting Spike's jizz splash all over her ass and pussy.
It was enough, too. She was cumming just as hard.
Rarity braced herself as the feeling of Spike's creamy load dripping down her slit sent her into the throes of an orgasm. Surprisingly, her first of the encounter, though she owed that mostly to keeping her eye on the prize, knowing that if she let herself, she'd be cumming hard, and fast, and doing it again and again and again and perhaps not letting poor little Spike have any of the fun. Which was why it was very important to give him as much attention as she could at first. Which didn't make it any easier to stop thinking about how badly she wanted to rip him off his seat, pin him to the ground and ride his tiny pink cock until it blew a sticky load inside her cunt.
But there was still the unfortunate matter of the third party.
With a lightning speed only the most deadly deadlines could prepare her for, Rarity summoned and put to work a set of towels, stashed in a drawer somewhere nearby or far, but suddenly summoned to do the work of cleaning up any evidence of sex in Rarity's dressing room. The cum on her butt, which they wiped up, letting little tingles up her spine. Her own wetness, which a small cloth politely patted away. Spike's cock, which a perfectly-sized towel wrapped around and rubbed clean, eliciting another few small moans from Spike. Who'd finally managed to open his eyes, also.
Timed just as Twilight's freshly-showered mane crested the dressing room door, Rarity clapped her hooves—her horn shone brightly, snap—and a burst of floral perfume filled the room with a phwoosh, covering up the smell of sex and erasing the last shred of evidence of Rarity's... unofficial 'lesson'.
That was, as long as...
"Ah, Twilight, you look wonderful! Tell me, which of the three holding sprays did you feel was most useful? I typically find, when I'm doing my mane in the morning—"
"Uh, I'm not sure, they were all great, really, but look, we, uh, have to be off, now that we've checked on the decorations and everything—"
Yes. Rarity, you are a master conniver if ever there was one. Conniving and canoodling. Yes. Those are your marks of expertise.
"Oh, of course. I mustn't keep you then. It was just such a pleasure getting to meet both of you—" Rarity leaned in close to Spike's ear, just far way enough to whisper 'Come back again tonight, my dear,', before she had started helping him and Twilight to the door. "Please do stop by again before the celebration if you need any help with your outfit, or your mane, or you—"
"Bye!" Twilight yelled, practically running out the door, levitating Spike onto her back as she went. Luckily oblivious to his tiny residual hard-on, which he was doing a very good job of covering up with his claws. And which would probably relax as soon as he got a good distance from his first blowjob—first two blowjobs—and the sultry, seductive pony who had given them.
Probably.
Author's Note
1: Rarity couldn't remember the name. Maybe it was something like Captain Armadillo. Or Armadillo on the Ponestead. That wasn't important.
2: Also, he hoped that it would start raining chocolate at some point. Chocolate and emeralds. You could always make a good dream better with chocolate and emeralds.
3: When I was a kid I'd see editors notes in comic book letters and responses and always thought there was someone on the staff named 'Ed' who just knew everything
P - O - N - Y - P - U - S - S - Y: That's how you spell PARTY!
It was hard not to notice Rarity even on her worst days. She was a pony who practically radiated the need for attention, drew eyes from everypony in the room when she walked in, even if she was just wearing "Oh, this little old thing I threw on in five minutes?".
For Spike, the difficulty was amplified. The minute he'd walked into Carousel Boutique and set his eyes on the white-and-purple mare who ran the place, his heart had developed a special overdrive mode it reserved only for the presence of Rarity. Lately it had been making requests for a nitro supplement to hit even higher speed requirements. Spike wasn't sure what that fully entailed.
At Twilight's welcoming party, or what had more quickly become a 'welcoming-party-in-Twilight's-house-not-particularly-for-Twilight-or-almost-rather-in-spite-of-her-actually', Spike had the entire night to get to know everypony in town. Hundreds of new faces and names who all wanted to make friends.
And all he could do was stare at Rarity.
She seemed to take special attention when he was in the room, noticing him without noticing, then making trips through the crowd of ponies to flash him a smile—or, more often, to flick her tail in his direction, simply to wave with her back-end facing. Did that mean she wanted him to stare? Because when he did, he saw the most beautiful curled tail he'd ever set eyes on, and underneath it, a set of radiant, luscious cheeks at the top of the longest, sultriest legs a pony could possess. Every time she turned around and waved at him just so, he wasn't sure, maybe he'd just imagined it, but he was certain he could see her wink every so often. There wasn't an invitation more blatant than that, was there?
As the night went on, Rarity's little 'hello's became more blatant. She got closer to Spike in the crowd, sometimes passing with idle small-talk, sometimes pretending not to notice him at all, but every time, taking distinct and special attention to give him a better show than bits could buy. She'd smile over her shoulder, wink with one eye, then flick her tail back and forth and wink again, in a different and much more noticeable way. She'd pretend to be misdirected in the crowd and smoosh her butt up against him, wave her tail right under his nose, giving him a faceful of her warm, musky mare-scent, and making him wonder if there was a hint of wetness as well, making him wonder if Rarity was just as warm inside as she felt when her butt-cheeks were pressed into his crotch. Surely, she could feel how hard she was getting him. Surely she had to notice.
Surely1?
Spike estimated that if he didn't get some alone time with Rarity by the end of the night he might explode with a worse heat than the one that Twilight had spat out after eating Pinkie Pie's hot-sauce cupcakes. Spike wondered if a shot of hot-sauce would calm his nerves, if it would be practically calm and cool compared to the molten-tornado dancing around his brain.
"Spike," Rarity cooed, her mouth suddenly adjacent to his ear, her lips almost tickling his scales as she whispered, somehow piercing and audible above the murmur of the crowd and the constant thump of the bass drums. "I was just thinking we haven't gotten to talk much, you and I, since things started picking up tonight. I wonder if you wouldn't like to go somewhere more... private, to exchange our... thoughts and feelings?"
Rarity's pauses between words were always accompanied by a flick of her tail, and each time she made sure to give Spike an obvious but oblivious view of her ass and pussy, waving her tail over them like a slow windmill over the hole of a mini-golf course.
"Uh... privates?" Spike said, his brow soaked in sweat.
"Private, dear. Although, let's not leave that out of the question..."
"I think one of the upstairs rooms might be empty," Spike squeaked. His cheeks were flushed, and the smell of Rarity's sex was permeating his nostrils like... well, the smell of pony-pussy. It wasn't something he felt there was an accurate simile for. Nothing else made his dick quite that hard.
"Wonderful! You lead the way then, hmm?"
Getting through the crowd of ponies with Rarity in tow was a challenge, but nothing could stand properly in the way of a horny dragon looking for somewhere to get busy. Spike plowed through the herd like a guided arrow, and managed to get up the stairs in record time, meaning he only had now to remember which room was empty.
It took a few tries, and a few apologies after stumbling in on ponies halfway through their own evening rendezvous. One pair didn't even seem to notice, and just kept hammering and moaning away like they were doing it for an invisible audience. Spike's dick twitched extra hard as he closed the door on the view of pegasus pony being pounded so hard she was starting to scream.
"Uh... this one, I think," Spike said finally. Sure enough, empty, save a few coats and jackets that had been stacked up on a chair in the corner.
"Wonderful," Rarity said, smiling and worming her way into the room next to Spike, rubbing her butt up against his side for good measure. "This will do nicely, don't you think?"
Spike nodded. He jumped a little as Rarity's horn glowed and slammed the door shut, then turned and slid the lock into place. Gulp.
"Why don't you hop up on the bed and have a seat, dear? We've got all the time in the world together now..."
Rarity patted a spot beside on the bed, and Spike hopped up on to the blankets. He always felt a little uneasy when Rarity was around like this, whatever she was thinking seemed to skulk and prowl like a timberwolf in the darkness of the Everfree foliage.
Still. This was nice. Just the two of them, together, alone at last. The music was still playing, permeating the entire house, you couldn't escape the 'wub-wubs' no matter how far you went. But everything was dulled here, like a little pocket away from the world, someplace that time maybe didn't even move at a normal rate. Spike remembered some kind of quote about love and a hot stove, but didn't have enough physics knowledge to complete it.
Without warning, Rarity pulled him close and kissed him. It was overwhelming to be kissed by Rarity in any circumstance, her smell and taste were so overpowering. Here, with just the two of them alone, it felt like a tornado was swirling around outside, blocking off all the sound and distractions from elsewhere and swirling them around until only the kiss remained. Spike felt his wings flutter and his cock twitch as Rarity pulled him even closer, her hoof on the back of his neck, yanking him closer like she wanted to devour every inch of him starting with his mouth.
When Rarity kissed him, her lips were writing poetry. Each second was a new maneuver, she never kissed the same way twice, always dancing with her tongue and inviting him to do the same, biting at his lip and whispering things just below the threshold he could hear, but he knew they were sweet, delicate, naughty, and he would catch his body rocking back and forth in her direction, aching for any more touch, or just for the kiss to go on forever.
If it could have, it would. But one kiss eventually devolved into more, and that into a makeout session, and those were new too, even though Spike couldn't help be overwhelmed, he felt like he knew what to do here now, at least to kiss back, to do whatever he wanted with his long, slithery tongue, and whenever he tickled Rarity's she seemed to light up with an inside fire, her breath would catch and she'd inhale sharply through her nose, and pull him closer still, pressing their bodies together so hard it almost hurt, drinking him in and moaning into his mouth and just begging with every inch of her body, so warm it radiated heat like a fireplace.
Spike didn't want to end the kiss, but when Rarity pulled away, he half-opened his eyes and found his tongue hanging out in thin air.
Rarity was smiling at him, but only half-composed, as though she was fighting the impulse to throw Spike back onto the bed and ravish him until he squealed louder than any dub-step wub wubs. Spike felt like he was a morsel on the table of a very exquisite, exclusive banquet.
"That tongue of yours," Rarity said with a sigh. She put a hoof to her chest and looked at Spike intimately, her eyelids half-lowered, sultry, the constant aroma of her sex becoming pervasive in the small room. Spike had wondered if he'd smelled it before, but now he was certain...
"My tongue?" Spike asked. He stuck out the appendage in question and poked it curiously with a claw. Sure, it was longer than the average ponies, more prehensile too, but what could you really do with a long, sticky pink thing...
Rarity nodded and grabbed Spike again, kissed him on the forehead and nuzzled herself up to him, rubbing their bodies together and causing Spike to grow and twitch nervously between his legs.
"Yes, dear, your tongue. Even a young dragon has such a talent compared to an average pony."
Spike curled his tongue in his mouth, checking to see if it had transformed in some way in his sleep. Still seemed to be the regular old tongue.
"I don't suppose you'd like to learn what you can do with it, hmm?" Rarity asked, smirking coyly.
"Um... I guess so... woah!"
Rarity had sprawled backwards on the bed without fanfare, and before Spike's eyes, she raised her hind-legs and held them behind her head, contorting herself into a gymnast's pose with her hooves up high and her pussy on full display. Finally, Spike could get a full glimpse of what Rarity had been teasing him with all night. The tail-flags, the flashings, the waves and the wafts of her marehood under his nose all night. Now he could finally dig in...
Oh. Right. His tongue?
"Do you want me to, uh... lick... it?" Spike shifted on the bed uneasily to between Rarity's legs. He could have stayed and taken in the sight all night, framed it in his mind to hold and keep every night as he drifted off to sleep, dragon-cock firmly in hand. Rarity was winking at him, and there was no more inviting sight than a pony-pussy squinting and squeezing and begging for you to fill it up.
Rarity nodded, smiling broadly. "Yes dear, that's exactly right. There's not really any right or wrong way to do it, but why don't you have a go and see how things taste, so to speak..."
Oh. There would be a taste, wouldn't there? He'd never thought about that before. The taste would match with something else. The same way kissing her was something between a bouquet of flowers and every flavour of ice-cream sample in Mrs. Cake's sweet-shop.
Nervously, as though he was unsure he even knew how to use his tongue in the first place, Spike stuck out the long, spiked-at-the-end appendage and tested the air with a tiny lick. Even with just the pheromones and particles that were airborne, Spike felt his senses flood with heat and fervor. Whatever the scent filling his nostrils was, Spike knew he had to drink it in like a fine wine, even though he'd never had wine before in the first place. This was something older pony's talked about savouring, the smell and taste of their special somepony in the intimate moments together. A nectar that was forbidden to everyone else.
It was impossible to help himself. Spike lowered his face even further to Rarity's sex, wet and hot and radiating some barely-tangible aura, that when he crossed it, when he was just within inches of touching Rarity's wet slit, he could feel his entire body light up, his cock ache and twitch and his tongue beg to slather up and down Rarity's entire hole and taste her wetness. Finally, tantalizingly, Spike extended his tongue until the very tip was against Rarity's cunt, the very bottom of her slit, and then lapped up, long, slow, in a single motion, until he'd covered her entire pussy, and the little button at the top, which made her squeal and jerk in the bed when he touched it.
"Ohmygoodness, Spikey, that was wonderful!" Rarity gushed. Her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed to be having some difficulty keeping her legs perfectly situated behind her head. "I never imagined a dragon's tongue would feel so... different."
"Different how?" Spike asked. He took a moment to consider the taste he'd collected, something sweet, but tangy, like a citrus punch. He could smell the faintest tell-tale aroma of sweat at the corners, but they blurred into everything else, a hundred colour aura swirling around the epicenter of Rarity's dripping sex. Spike tested it with another lick, shorter this time, just lapping gently up Rarity's entrance, and making her hips buck again, another squeal, more delighted sounding than Spike remembered hearing her ever before.
"Ohhh, Spike, that dragon-tongue of yours is simply marvelous. So long and slippery... would you like to get a better taste?"
Rarity reached down between her legs and spread her pussy even wider, showing off the glistening pink insides and the tiny protrusion of her love-nub at the top. She was winking too, for good measure, each contraction of her pussy walls inviting Spike in to feast on the dripping banquet.
Spike licked his lips hungrily.
"Absolutely," he said, and dove in with reckless abandon.
Rarity's legs locked around the back of his head as Spike's tongue began to flick and slide like a whirlwind. Rarity's slit was gushing, practically pouring a waterfall onto the bed, a mix of Spike's saliva and her own nonstop love-juices. She shut her eyes tight and moaned and thrashed on the bed as Spike continued his first taste of cunnilingus, already picking up marks for enthusiastic attitude and earning a gold star for effort.
Licking Rarity's pussy was like an ice cream cone that never went down. Each time you extended your tongue and slithered it between her quivering lips, or poked inside to taste the wetness of her walls and make her squeal as the snake-like length danced inside, Rarity would gasp and moan and gush and make you feel like you were face-first in a waterfall slide at the amusement park. The way she grabbed the back of your head and pushed your face down made you wonder who was really in control. If your tongue stopped, you might not survive the night. But why would you want to stop anyway?
It was something hidden in the scent—the delicate mix between sweat and just plain old sex. Spike had smelled enough permutations of it through his lifetime to make the distinction, from his own masturbation to the few times he'd walked in on Twilight at an awkward interval. Somehow, it was readier, hotter, more full and commanding than anything before. It made his mouth water and his cock ache. It made him want to shoot a sticky white load the same colour as Rarity's coat all up in her pony pussy.
"Spike, oh, oh my, your tongue, your tongue is going to make me... eeeeeeee!" Rarity's words devolved into a high-pitched squeal wobbly and piercing enough that it fit right in with the background dubstep synth leads. Rarity clutched at a pillow with one hoof and the back of Spike's head with the other, her legs locked so tight around the young dragon's neck that she threatned to pop it off.
Spike held on for dear life, only knowing to move his tongue, up and down, left to right, in little circles at the top... even though he could barely breathe, the smell and taste of Rarity's dripping pussy kept him moving forward like substitute oxygen. He could survive forever, if she just let him keep his tongue going.
Only, forever would be just enough right now. Rarity reached down with one hoof and pushed Spike's head back as the tail-end of her orgasm shook through her body. Her cunt twitched and winked a few times as Spike withdrew his tongue, giving an extra little love-lick with the forked end and making Rarity shiver.
The bed was soaked, and Spike's face was dripping. His tongue would remember the taste of Rarity's pussy for the rest of his life, most likely.
And still, somehow, according to the clock on the wall, there was an entire night ahead of them.
"Come here for a quick cuddle," Rarity said, her voice light and wheedling. She moved over on the bed, out of the new wetspot she'd generated, to make room for Spike at her side. Spike sidled up and nestled into Rarity's chest, the two of them facing each other, eyes closed, warmth of their two bodies combining in a hug. They stayed like that for a little while, neither of them saying anything, both still obviously aching for sex, Spike's cock hard and dribbling a bit, Rarity's sex wet and leaking over the bed, their two sets of hips rocking ever-so-gently back and forth, but not pressing or demanding, knowing there was as much time as necessary to move forward, and none to move back.
Rarity kissed Spike's neck and face as they were cuddling, prompting a series of shivers and little giggles each time she found a sensitive or ticklish spot. She left little love-pecks on the scales of his chest, nibbled at his ears and made him shake and whimper a little before finding somewhere else for her mouth to adventure. Before Spike knew it, he was a quivering mess of almost-touch-me-theres, unaware of where Rarity's mouth would go next but delighted and electric no matter where that happened to be.
Eventually, Rarity's kisses began to go lower, snaking across Spike's belly and above his waist. Each time Rarity's mouth would come within even an approximate distance of his cock, Spike groaned and thrust his hips forward, usually meeting either just air or Rarity's soft stomach, but groaning again regardless, leaving little dabs of precum stuck to Rarity's fur.
Whether she wanted to return the favour or simply couldn't help herself was of no concern to Spike. Rarity's mouth finally found its way down between his legs, and the way she started to slurp and suck at his head made him wonder if there was about to be a second wet spot on the bed soon.
"Ahhh! Rarity..." Spike didn't have a familiar vocabulary for this situation, had only ever imagined somepony as pretty as Rarity gobbling his cock up and slurping and slobbering all over his dragon-dick. But that's what she was doing, surely, and she seemed to transform in the act, from prim and proper and sure never to spill a drop at mealtime to a debased, desperate slut-pony, drooling and leaving trails of spit up and down his sex-organ, getting him as slippery and as hard as she could to slide him in somewhere even hotter and wetter than her mouth.
"Why don't you lie down and let me do the work for now?" Rarity asked. She pushed gently at Spike's chest with her hoof, and Spike followed direction instantly, lying back on the bed and exposing his rock-hard dragon-dick to Rarity's full attentions, standing up in the center of the bed like a pink-green-and-purple flagpole. Rarity licked her lips at the sight of it, like a filly at the ice cream counter.
Spike felt like he was getting a private showing of a very illicit movie not probably appropriate for dragons his age. Rarity had turned around and was waggling her butt at him, flashing and waving her tail over her pussy and ass like she was showing them off in an auction. Spike stared, open-mouthed, as Rarity bobbed her butt up and down, her luscious cheeks bouncing and shaking only inches from Spike's cock. He watched, agawk, as Rarity did small lunges back and forth, each time lowering her pussy to Spike's cock and sliding her entire slit over his length, but never slipping him inside, never letting his engorged head slide past her puffy pussy-lips, but just painting and coating the whole thing in her wetness, more lube than Spike was sure would ever be necessary when Rarity was already dripping and eager to go. Spike couldn't help but stare at Rarity's butt as it slid and bounced, like a mirage in the desert he couldn't tear his eyes from.
Eventually, once she was content with her twerking display, and reasonably satisfied she had given Spike's cock as much moisture as it could handle, Rarity lowered her butt and planted it directly onto Spike's crotch. The entrance to her pussy teased at the tip of his cock, letting his head just slide past her lips before pulling back and teasing again by sliding it along her slit.
Spike groaned like a desperate animal and threw his headback, then jerked it up again so he could stare at Rarity's jiggling butt.
"Rarity..." he said, reaching out a claw to grab one of her cheeks and giving it a firm squeeze.
"Mhmm... yes, Spikey?" Rarity cooed over her shoulder, her eyes sultry, half-closed, her pussy gushing liquid onto Spike's cock-head.
She didn't wait for an answer. Just slid herself down, finally, taking the young dragon's length in a single go, slamming down and bouncing the bed and sighing loudly as she finally felt herself go full up with the hard, eager length of Spike's dick.
It was an open door for both of them. Rarity's moans mixed with Spike's overwhelmed grunts, and then she began to move, and the bed to shake, and the slap of her cheeks on Spike's pelvis, and they were really fucking now, or Rarity was doing the fucking, at least, while Spike was more-or-less along for the ride.
It felt like the reins had been traded. While Spike had gotten just a little taste (literally) of what 'control' felt like under the direction of his tongue and Rarity's fervent and encouraging moans and squeals... it was clear that since the night's first tail-flag that Rarity had been the one steering the ship. Now she was the one doing the riding, but readily at the head of the pack.
Spike felt definitely felt like he was being taken for a ride. His cock was getting used for something—his cock was in Rarity's pussy, and she was slamming up and down on top of him, every so often looking over her shoulder to smile devilishly at him and lick her lips, then return to bouncing her butt up and down over and over, her own moans and squeals mixing with Spike's.
Spike would take a hold of one of Rarity's butt-cheeks every few slams, but inevitably lose hold, impossible to hang on to something so big and jiggly while it was moving up and down in front of you. One beautiful carved globe, rising and wiggling and lowering and grinding and rocking back and forth while Spike's cock was all the way inside, pressing his head up against the inside of Rarity's walls and making her moan extra-loud whenever he pushed in and hit a special spot that seemed to be hidden away. Spike could feel his balls tightening the second he'd seen Rarity flash him for the first time that night, and now they were beginning to make insistent demands about releasing their load sooner rather than later.
"Rarity," Spike gasped again, clinging to the white pony-butt in front of him for dear life, lest Rarity's violent hip-shakes and slams dislodge his cock and throw him off the bed. It was hard to speak when your entire brain felt like it was on fire, when the only impulse you could translate was 'move hips back and forth at more or less the same time as the pony on top of you'. 'Cum', was the designation, more or less. Spike felt like he was going to cum soon.
Almost as if she'd practiced it before, Rarity swooned and moaned when she heard Spike call her name, practically able to taste the desperation dripping off only three syllables, maybe just because it was her own word, she could sense each tremble and imagine the feeling of Spike's balls emptying a white hot load into her pussy...
"Kiss me, Spikey," she said. Before Spike had a chance to respond of his own accord, Rarity spun herself so she was facing the young dragon, her curvy white butt now pointed at the bedroom wall. She stared into Spike's eyes, a difficult feat as she was bouncing, but managed finally to lock her gaze with his. The two stared at each other as Rarity's thrusts went on, as Spike jerked his cock desperately upward, begging for the last few doses of friction that would coax the cum out from his sack.
Spike kissed her. It was difficult, making his body do anything else, but he managed, maybe only because the simple gesture of leaning forward and planting his mouth on Rarity's had become familiar by now, or because she did most of the work, pulling his head close and snaking her tongue around his and panting into his mouth. Her eyes would open every now and then, staring still into Spike's, solid but wavering, as though she was balancing somewhere precarious and could barely manage to keep her hooves steady. Spike's gaze was just the same, delicate and new and uncertain to remain open when the flash-flood of pleasure had overwhelmed and overtaken his body.
It was just the two of them, in that room. The drenched bed-sheets and the creaking of the headboard, the thump of outside bass matching their thrusts in syncopated rhythm. Each time Rarity would slam her pussy down onto Spike's cock, a desperate, throaty moan, a wail that said 'please, rut me, breed me, fill me up with that underage dragon cock'. Spike's groans couldn't be translated, but, if addressed painstakingly, might have come out to 'Rarity, Rarity, Rarity...', over and over and over again.
"Spike," Rarity said, her voice cutting the air like a hot knife. Even the sound of sex and the smell of fucking would part to let her words through. Husky, needy, wanting everything.
"Yes," Spike gasped, barely able to make words function over his body's constant attention to his impending orgasm.
"I want you to look at me now," Rarity said. She put a hoof on Spike's chest and stared at him the same as she was directing. Her eyes were wide and gentle, burning with dark flames at the same time, the finest flowers guilding a path straight to Tartarus. Rarity slowed her hip movements, but still rocked back and forth with conviction, shaking the bed still, grinding herself up and down on Spike's aching dragon-dick. "I want you to look into my eyes before you cum."
"Oh, geez," Spike said. The words felt clumsy, like all of his body, and now he was getting another direction, too much on top of the need to keep himself from letting that final peg go and unloading what felt like a week's worth of pent up cum right into Rarity's pussy...
"I want you to stare into my eyes while I fuck you," Rarity said, her voice sinking low and devilish. "My good little dragon, my sweet little thing, I want you to look into Mommy's eyes while you cum..."
"Rarity," Spike gasped again. His balls were tightening, his cock was beginning to twitch, he could feel the familiar tide of white-hot-nothingness beginning to creep at the back of his brain. "Rarity," again. "I'm gonna—"
Rarity kissed him, both hooves around the back of his head, her hips jerking and slamming in rapid bursts, coaxing the final overflow from Spike's tiny, inexperienced body that would lead him over the edge.
"—!"
Spike came, and he came hard.
Looking into Rarity's eyes the whole time was the most difficult part. It was like an unwavering mirror, a reflection of every lust and desire in the face of a pony who loved you. Rarity's smile didn't waver, but she blinked, maybe washing away tears of joy, maybe just struggling to contain her reaction to the spray of colt-batter currently coating her insides. It felt like a firehose, though she'd never been acquainted with one intimately before... surely nothing else could have that much force, could shoot that big a load of cum into her pussy?
There was the vigor of an underage dragon-cock, however.
Spike's claws grasped for anything to hold onto as his body shook. The blankets, pillows, Rarity's butt, which was now facing in the opposite direction. Spike scrabbled and searched for something to brace himself with, but the bed and his body seemed to shake regardless, and each time his balls squeezed tight and shot another spurt of dragon-cum inside Rarity's cunt, Spike felt like his entire mind was being wiped clean, like the only image left in the world was Rarity's eyes, longing and lovingly staring into his, only blinking occasionally with every other shot of jizz. Spike could feel it begin to pool around his cock, to leak out of Rarity's pussy and join her mare-juices pooling on the bed. There was a lot of it. A lot of cum.
It felt like a tornado. An earthquake. His atoms being pulled apart piece by constituent piece. Eventually, Spike's claws found Rarity, her hips, her legs, her fur, and clung on for dear life, even though the meteor shower behind his eyes showed no sign of ending any time soon.
The way the music played, you could feel the drop through the walls. There was a build-up, a chaos that seemed to double on itself over and over—and then, almost silence. A pause before a dam bursting, and then you were awash in sound.
Spike and Rarity both took in long, deep breaths in succession, panting and gasping for air to fill their lungs, so swept up in the tide of pleasure they seemed to have forgotten to do so.
Rarity pulled herself up off of Spike's cock with some difficulty—her whole body shivered as she moved up, seemingly begging her to remain in place, to stay stuffed and full and dripping a load of hot sticky cream—but when she got up, the load came with her, and spilled out of her cunt like soft-serve from an ice-cream machine, pouring all over the length of Spike's still-hard and twitching cock, coating his balls that had brewed the load up in the first place, and getting some healthy white streaks across the bed for good measure.
There was enough of an area left unaffected by wet spots that Spike and Rarity could curl into it together, find some undisturbed blankets, and wrap themselves up like a coccoon, one half dragon, one half pony. They snuggled into each other, Spike's head on Rarity's chest, Rarity wrapping her forelegs around Spike's back and rubbing up and down his spines to the sound of soft cooing noises.
If you listened very carefully, you could hear the ponies dancing downstairs. Sharing punch. Mingling and mixing with each other like samples on a food-tray.
Upstairs, the air felt oddly calm. Like a storm had just passed, or was brewing in the background somewhere very far away.
"My," Rarity said, her voice calm, but still shaky around the edges. "That was certainly something."
"It sure was."
The two of them sank into each other's eyes, hugging and holding each other and listening only to the sound of breathing below the party's constant throb of music and dancing downstairs.
"I love you, Spike," Rarity said. It seemed sudden, but she said it like the thought had been turning in her mind for a long time. She kissed Spike on the forehead, then on the mouth, each taken by surprise, but both met with a grin.
"I... I love you too, Rarity," Spike said. The words didn't feel unfamiliar. More like he'd practiced them in private all his life. He kissed Rarity back, and her sigh sounded like a music note.
It was difficult to count the amount of time that passed then. A space somewhere between minutes was occupied only by couples cuddled together, breathing each others air, seeing the world through two sets of simultaneously closed eyes. Spike felt like he could still feel Rarity's cunt tugging and hugging at his cock. Rarity felt like she was still fully up with Spike's dick, and the load dripping out of her was the testimony.
When enough private eternities had passed, the two shared one last hug, cleaned themselves up, and returned to the party.
Somehow, nopony seemed to even have noticed they were missing.
Author's Note
1: Don't call me Shirley. - Ed.
