Yakpprenticeship

She gently kissed the base of Yona’s hen, slowly working her way up until she reached her tip, where she lingered for a few moments, sucking her lazily in between butterfly kisses. She smiled at the sound of the yak’s appreciative whimpers, music to her ears. Smiling through her kisses, she made sure that Yona would feel the warm breath from her nostrils on every exhale.

Then, she gently held Yona’s tip in her aura, and traced a line down her soft throat as she climbed on top of the chaise, her legs bent at a crawl so as to keep their bodies close. The short, white hairs hanging down from her belly brushed against the long, brown hairs on Yona’s, but that was not where Rarity’s attention was. Her mind was on feeling the tip of Yona’s hen drag down her underside, as she thought of the softness of her own belly coat, how pleasant she hoped it felt. Her awareness of her own body extended down and down, until she felt her own presence of mind in that wonderful complex of soft teats and soft lips, heat and moistness, the burning in her loins.

She smeared herself on Yona, soft flesh against engorged. Lovingly, she pressed Yona’s tip against her furiously winking clit, eyelids fluttering at the wonderful sensation of frottage.

“How is that, darling?” she whispered, staring down into Yona’s eyes.

“Mmm,” came the answer. “Professor Rarity feels soft. Pony soft. Feels good on Yona.”

“Good,” she cooed, and smiled.

She stared down at that expansive muzzle. Unbidden, a memory reached across the depths of time. A vision of what Yona would have looked like as a pony mare, which she remembered imagining in those days preparing the yak for that long-ago Amity Ball. How past-her had wished Yona had looked like that instead, all the better to flatter her curves in ways that made sense, Celestia dammit.

That vision of Yona lay superimposed in her mind’s eye over the softly smiling yak mare underneath her, starkly highlighting the differences between them. Her nose so wide, so unlike the dainty little tip of a pony mare’s, yet no less beautiful. Rarity’s heart filled with sorrow.

“How could I ever think you were any less perfect for being what you are?”

Rarity pressed her lips on Yona’s, feeling her own tears squeeze their way through her eyelids, hot and wet. Hot and wet, she lowered herself onto Yona’s hen, drinking in her gasp through the seal of their lips as she pushed her inside her. Inch by inch, she felt herself fill up with yak flesh as she took Yona’s length as far as she could, almost all the way up to the hilt. That wonderful tightness, filling her up, squeezing her from the inside…

Pushing with her legs, she raised herself off Yona just a bit, the release of pressure feeling just as good as the pressure just had. She rocked her hips as she moved, stroking Yona inside her from every angle. Expressing her love for the faithful apprentice that had been at her side for years through the symphony she was composing against her body.

Her breaths began to sync up with her strokes, and she noticed that Yona’s were as well, though in less controlled, involuntary gasps. Quickening her pace with smaller motions, she craned her neck down until her mouth was by Yona’s ear, whispering sweet nothings and hot breaths into it until…

She felt Yona pulse inside her, bursts of warm yak cum delightfully coating her insides as Yona arched her back against the cushioned surface of the chaise, letting out a fittingly yaklike scream of joy. A tinge of anxiety welled up in Rarity, quickly dismissed as she remembered that there were no customers downstairs at the moment. Instead, she let herself enjoy the moment with Yona, riding her orgasm down from the crescendo to the dénouement.

Rarity let herself relax along with Yona, grateful for the warm and sturdy yak body that could easily support her weight, as Yona slid out of her with a distinct plop. She felt Yona’s cum dribble out of her and spill onto the coats of their crotches and thighs, relishing in the messiness, and just how untoward it would be to leave that without a wash.

With a smile, she stared into those green eyes that stared back with the same steady adoration that Yona had always had for her. It was quite nice, Rarity realized, to see that that had somehow not changed in one direction or the other, after what they had just shared.

“How was that, darling?” she asked.

“Oh, Professor Rarity,” Yona replied, her voice airy and breathless. “It was everything Yona could dream. Thank you so much.”

Rarity giggled, and gently booped Yona’s nose with the tip of her hoof.

“Well, my Apprentice. There is no need to thank me at all for doing my duty. And it’s far, so very far, from done!”

She smiled wickedly.

“I have so much more, so very much more, to show you.”