Standing on the landing platform, Rarity awaited the rapidly approaching train. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone out in the dreadful summer heat, but she was expecting company. Fanning herself slightly, and impatiently tapping a hoof, she remained in the shaded area of the station. As the locomotive slowed, grinding to a halt on the tracks, the doors of the passenger cars glided open.
A stream of ponies emerged, jostling about to collect their luggage or to meet awaiting family at the station. Stoically, Rarity stood, scanning the departing throng, until something caught her eye. A young stallion, with a creamy coat and dapper stetson upon his head, appeared. Beneath his hat, a chartreuse and basil green mane could be seen. The lad expectantly glanced about, as if he was looking for somepony, causing Rarity to move in his direction.
“Yoohoo!” she called, waving to him from across the platform. Upon hearing her, he turned. It only took him a second to recognize her, and his face immediately went alight.
“Rarity!” he shouted, swiftly navigating the masses of ponies to reach her. Scampering over, he came to an abrupt stop before her. “Gosh, if feels like it’s been forever,” he exclaimed, tempering his excitement, if only slightly.
Without a word, and smiling warmly at him, Rarity gave him a hug. “It’s so good to see you again, Darling. I’m sorry that I hadn’t invited you sooner, but finding time for anything is such a trial. Between managing a business, working at the School of Friendship, and periodically fending off ne'er-do-wells, I can hardly get a moment to breathe!” she sighed, releasing him from her grasp.
“Oh, I...I’ll do my best not to be a bother or anything!” Pistachio stammered. A pang of guilt struck him, as he realized he’d likely be just one more distraction for the fashionista.
“No, no, no, no, no! You misunderstand! I simply didn’t want you coming, unless I knew I could appropriately spend time with you. I wouldn’t be much of a hostess, if I simply left you to wander about town, while I busy myself with this or that,” she clarified, shooting him a wink.
The notion that Rarity was taking the time, no, makingtime expressly for him, caused Pistachio’s heart to flutter. All he could do was stand there, with a silly grin plastered on his face, as he gazed at her. The stories were all true; she really was, and always would be, a paragon of generosity.
“Well, let’s see ourselves out of this dreadful heat. I trust you’ve brought enough belongings to last a week?” Rarity said, snapping him from his trance-like state.
“Yeah, let me get ‘em real quick,” he responded, turning back towards the train. Trotting over to his car, he looked for his baggage. Each of the compartments had external storage, to hold any bulky, non-carry on luggage. Spotting his suitcase, and his saddlebags, the young stallion gathered them up, before returning to the designer’s side.
With a nod of approval, Rarity peered over at her guest. “Now then, let’s be off, shall we?” she asked. He nodded, signalling her to lead the way into town.
~
Two weeks prior, she’d penned a letter to Pistachio’ s parents, Butternut and Oak Nut, to ask if they’d be willing to let their son come for a visit. Even though he was on the cusp of adulthood, he was their only child, so it felt proper to seek their permission. Ever since she’d met the aspiring designer, she’d kept in contact with him, sending him letters regularly, but it wasn’t the same as actually speaking with somepony. So, with an impending junior fashion show, to be hosted at the Carousel Boutique, she’d leapt into action.
A week after writing to the family of farmers, she’d received a reply. Butternut and Oak Nut gave their blessing for Pistachio to travel to Ponyville. Bundled with the response to her query, was a letter from none other than the young stallion himself. Beyond the gratuitous gratitude, he assured her that he’d arrive in her town a week before the show; and so he had, just as promised.
~
Strolling through Ponyville, Pistachio took in the sights. Even though Rarity had spoken about how small the village was, it seemed like a bustling metropolis. Growing up on a secluded farm, he’d never been exposed to much more than a general store. While he had seen pictures before, from inside magazines or publications, it felt totally different in person.
Rarity periodically glanced over her shoulder, to ensure her charge hadn’t wandered off. She would have preferred to chat with him, but that wasn’t really an option, considering he was holding the handle of his suitcase between his teeth. The notion of what he’d packed did make her wonder about his clothing choices, since she’d never seen him in anything but a neckerchief and hat. Speaking of which…
“You don’t mind if we stop by the Boutique, do you? It’s on the way to the hotel you’ll be staying in, and I promise I won’t keep us long,” she inquired, peering back at him.
The notion of Rarity’s shop caused Pistachio to nod vigorously. He realized he was going to see it on his visit, but he hadn’t expected it to be the first stop on his trip! For him, it was like some fabled location, full of mystery and enchantment. Sure, he’d heard and read about it, yet he doubted that could do it justice. Humming contentedly to himself, he sauntered behind his host.
It didn’t take them long, a scant handful of minutes, before they rounded a corner. There, lying just down the block, was the Carousel Boutique. It looked just like the pictures he’d seen! The entire building was circular, appropriately enough, with a similar aesthetic to a carousel. Trotting along, he came to Rarity’s side, as they drew nearer to her business. Neither stopped, until they stood a scant few feet from the entryway.
With Pistachio by her side, Rarity opened the front door for her guest. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique.”
“Oh. My. Gosh!” Pistachio exclaimed, dropping his suitcase, as he peered into Rarity’s shop. He stood there, jaw agape, as he took in the sight.
“Well, see yourself in, Darling!” Rarity urged, waving a hoof towards the interior. Numbly, almost reverently, the young stallion crept inside. She smiled, watching his reaction, before following after him.
Marveling at the scenery, Pistachio scanned the shop. All manner of garments lie arrayed before him; everything from dresses and skirts to accessories and jewelry. Roughly half of the boutique was dedicated to mares, while the other half was for stallions. In all his years, he’d never seen such a wide range of clothing items.
“I could give you a tour, if you like,” Rarity noted, trotting up beside him. Though he didn’t say a word, the young stallion nodded eagerly. With that, she proceeded a winding trail through the storefront. Waving to the various pieces of stallionwear, she pointed out particularly interesting pieces, before the two made their way into the mare’s section.
Not only did their pace slow markedly, but Rarity would periodically pause to fawn over her creations. In painful detail, she explained how certain cuts or fabrics could accentuate the wearer’s curves and natural beauty. While she was a universal couturier, her expertise clearly lie with attire for the fairer sex.
“And over here we have the negligee, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested in that,” Rarity noted, waving to a number of scantily clad mannequins. The sultry smirk upon her face faded, as she noticed his disinterest.
“Not really. They’re beautiful, of course, but there’s just so much to take in,” Pistachio said, his gaze wandering back towards the more modest, chique garments. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to keep you here all afternoon.”
“Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. If you’d like, I can show you my work space in back,” Rarity barely got the words out of her mouth, before Pistachio’s eyes went alight.
“Really?!” he excitedly bleated, practically vibrating with anticipation.
“Mmmhmm! It’s right this way, come on,” she remarked, trotting past him towards the rear of the shop.
As she walked by, she scrunched her snout. He hadn’t seemed even remotely moved by her selection of undergarments. True, the few that were on display were on mannequins, so they wouldn’t be as appealing as they would be on an actual model; although the notion gave her an idea. There was somepony who she could always rely on to show off her product, one who had never let her down…
Strolling past the storefront, and into the depths of the boutique, Pistachio looked about in amazement. “Wow! I can’t believe this is where the Rarity makes the magic happen,” he murmured.
“And the bedroom,” she added quickly under her breath. “Anyways, yes, here we are,” she declared, stepping aside. As always, her work station was neat and tidy, with bolts of fabric stacked against one wall.
Slowly creeping forward, Pistachio studied the area. Sewing machine, scissors, fabric measuring tape, a veritable tool chest of buttons and accouterments, and sketches of possible projects sat about the space. A feeling of reverence filled him, as he stood there. Not only had he been invited to Rarity’s boutique, but she’d even given him a private look at her inner sanctum. The sensation left him breathless, frozen in place, until a sudden movement drew his attention.
“I’ll be right back, Darling. I’ve got something I’d like to show off,” Rarity stated. Briskly brushing past him, she levitated a box from her desk. Making a bee-line towards her private restroom, and leaving her guest behind, an impish grin crept across her face. If this didn’t impress him, nothing would.
With the unicorn disappearing out of view, Pistachio was left to admire his idol’s studio. Inspecting her choices of fabrics, the various gemstones she adorned her creations with, and the equipment she used, he noticed something; everything was of supremely high quality. He wasn’t surprised, yet he realized he was looking at a small fortune of supplies and tools. Moving over to an assortment of drawn designs and notes, he busied himself with studying them.
Though he wasn’t sure how long he’d been browsing through her plans and half-finished projects, the sound of a door clicking drew his attention. Peering over, towards the area where his host had vanished, he jaw went slack. Rarity, for whatever reason, was sauntering directly towards him. Seeing her reappear wasn’t the issue; no, his shock was caused by what she was wearing.
Strutting up to him, he noticed silken black lace digging into the meat of her waist and upper thighs. At first, Pistachio thought she was simply adorned in a garter belt and sheer leggings, but then she shifted. To his utter shock, she turned away from him. Swinging her tail to the side, his gaze wandered to her rear.
“I find that satin makes for exquisite undergarments,” Rarity purred, from behind heavily lidded eyes. “Note how it clings…” she added, peering back to her rump.
Pistachio swallowed hard, as he peeked at her tush. True to her word, the dark fabric practically adhered to her marehood. The plump and prominent mound at her nethers was unmistakable, especially due to the stark contrast between the black material covering it and her snow white coat. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, though he couldn’t look away; it was almost like he was entranced.
“So…” she cooed, expectantly spinning towards him.
“I...it’s v...very nice,” Pistachio stammered, finally able to avert his gaze.
“What’s very nice?” Rarity pried, stepping closer to the fidgeting stallion. She knew good and darned well what he’d been staring at, but she wanted to hear him say it.
“Y...your lingerie. The guipure t..trim, paired with the black opals, r...really works well,” he sputtered. Even with her inching closer, he kept his eyes on the floor. Although he’d never had the misfortune of encountering a cocketrice, he imagined it would evoke a similar sensation to what he currently felt.
Upon hearing his words, Rarity came to a halt. “Just the lingerie?” she quietly asked, raising an eyebrow.
“W...well, besides the lacework and gemstones, i...is that elastic satin? It’s not messaline, and it’s definitely not charmeuse, but I can’t quite put my hoof on the specific material…” Pistachio thoughtfully noted. Sure enough the fashion driven portion of his brain was steadily overriding his previously mounting arousal, leaving him to ponder the garment’s mysteries.
Rarity’s expression fell flat, as did her ambitions to provoke her guest. “Yes, it’s a poly-elastic blend, which I had specially ordered from my supplier in Manehattan,” she mirthlessly responded, before wheeling around and briskly trotting back towards the restroom. With her plans foiled, she rushed off to change.
Throughout their months of corresponding, after having met one another, Rarity had developed a growing curiosity in Pistachio. Not only did he have an eye for fashion, but he thought very highly of her. Over time, she came to discover two things. Firstly, he was the first stallion she’d developed any interest in, since Trenderhoof had been around. Secondly, and more alarmingly, she realized that, even with him living in a rural area, it was only a matter of time until some other mare struck his fancy.
Taking those factors into account, Rarity devised a plan to woo the young stallion. Sure, it may have been dubiously ethical, although he was a sound minded lad, able to make his own decisions, and who wouldn’t want to have their first time with somepony they admired; at least, that’s what she’d been telling herself. In truth, the choice of stallions in Ponyville was, and would almost always be sorely lacking, so importing one would work to her favor. With her first tactic stymied, she changed out of her lingerie, before readying herself to execute her second strategy.
“Pistachio,” she announced, bursting from the restroom, “I’m so sorry for distracting you for so long! Let’s get you to your hotel.” Without waiting for a reply, she moved towards the storefront, but not before snatching up a saddlebag.
Glancing up, a relieved look crossed Pistachio’s face. “You know, now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever spent that long on a train before,” he commented, thinking back to his trip. Honestly, he couldn’t recall any details of the journey, likely because he’d been ecstatic to see Rarity again.
He smiled, watching her trot towards the front of the shop. She was just so elegant, and a remarkable couturier, that he simply couldn’t understand how anypony couldn’t be impressed with her or her generosity. The Fedorafelt Original, the very hat she’d gifted him last Hearth’s Warming, sat upon his head. Running a hoof along its rim, he followed after her.
With her guest in tow, after having locked her shop, Rarity strolled in the direction of his hotel. “I’ve taken the liberty of - Ahem - embellishing your room, I hope you don’t mind,” she said over her shoulder.
“Embellishments?” Pistachio parroted, in confusion.
“Mmmhmm! A sewing machine, a few bolts of fabric, and some rudimentary supplies, just in case you’d like to try your hoof with sewing,” she explained.
Pistachio wasn’t sure what to say. While he’d always wanted to experiment with tailoring, he’d never been able to. His family, while able to take care of themselves, didn’t have spare bits to buy fancy textiles or anything beyond the bare basics. To think that Rarity would do so much for him, without having been asked, was a kindness he wouldn’t soon forget. Finally, after his lips flapped helplessly for a moment, he found his voice.
“Thank you. Thank you so, so much,” he murmured, feeling a tightness in his chest.
“Think nothing of it, Darling,” Rarity dismissively commented, as they approached his lodging. Retrieving a key from her satchel, she altered her course towards a room sitting on the corner of the first floor. Unlocking and opening the door, she stood to the side. “I know it’s nothing impressive, but I hope you find it adequate,” she noted, watching him enter.
Flicking a light-switch, illuminating the room, Pistachio was impressed. A bed sat along one wall, right beside a miniature workstation. True to her word, there was an assortment of tools and cloth segments, should he like to experiment. A lavatory, as well as a sink and closet, were located just to the right of the entryway. Truth be told, the room and bed were both considerably larger than what he had at the acorn farm. Just as he was about to thank Rarity, yet again, a hoof softly rested itself on his back.
“Will this be suitable?” she asked, with a touch of concern in her voice.
“Suitable?” Pistachio heatedly blurted, before wheeling around and hugging his host. “It’s perfect,” he uttered, no louder than a whisper, into her ear.
Rarity went rigid, as Pistachio held her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she hugged him back. It wasn’t like their embrace at the train station, no; now, with his forelegs around her neck, she bore the full brunt of his youthful exuberance. Though his strength may not have matched a fully developed stallion, she was still impressed; being an earth pony, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was still remarkable. Standing there, in his grasp, her nostrils flared.
While she hadn’t noticed it before, the lad had a very captivating scent. Pistachio’s aroma was like that of freshly felled lumber, masculine and strong, contrary to his dapper aesthetic, with a hint of tree nuts. Rarity’s marehood quivered, as she buried her face in his mane. Shamelessly, she drew in a deep breath, savoring his natural fragrance. She was so enwrapped by the situation, that she didn’t notice his grip slacken.
“So...uh...what’s the plan now?” Pistachio mumbled, uncertain of what to do. He enjoyed the hug, sure, although he hadn’t expected it to linger on as long as it had.
“Oh, well, how about you freshen up,” Rarity proposed, motioning towards the lavatory. “I’ll go fetch you a bite to eat, since the hotel is dreadfully lacking in any manner of refreshments,” she sighed, leering over at a lone bag of peanuts on the dresser.
“You don’t have to! I brought enough bits for food!” Pistachio replied, wriggling from her grasp. Still, given that he hadn’t eaten anything besides some acorn cereal that morning, before departing, the notion of food did stir his hunger.
“Absolutely not! It’ll be my treat, your first meal in Ponyville,” Rarity tutted, flippantly flipping the mane from her face. As he went to protest, she stubbornly held up a hoof. “Now, not another word! I’ll be back in a jiffy, so don’t worry one little bit. Besides, I’m sure you’re positively aching to get washed up, after having been cooped up in that train all day.”
With a resigned sigh, Pistachio nodded. “A shower really doesn’t sound bad, to be honest. I’ll find some way to make it up to you, I promise,” he solemnly grumbled.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something. In the meantime, it should take me a bit to retrieve your meal, so take your time,” she reassuringly said, moving to the exit. Without another word, Rarity saw herself out; leaving her guest to his own devices.
Undoing his neckerchief, and setting his stetson on the nightstand, Pistachio trotted to the bathroom. Not only had the train ride had been a long one, but he’d found himself seated next to a particularly rank pony. Setting the shower to warm, he reflected on the day’s events. While Rarity had been undeniably charitable, he couldn’t shake the impression that something was amiss; yet he couldn’t put his hoof on exactly why.
She’d been immeasurably kind to him, and he had no real reason to suspect anything, so he quickly shook off any such questioning thoughts. Stepping into the warm water, letting it cascade over his frame, Pistachio chuckled. It was silly, really. He was just a simple farm pony, from the middle of nowhere; what could she possibly want from him.
Washing himself off, allowing any doubt in his host to flow down the drain, Pistachio turned off the shower and snatched up a towel. Drying his mane, while stepping out of the bathroom, he contentedly hummed to himself. All things considered, his visit had been off to a rousing good start. After mopping off his face, he noticed the lights in his room had been dimmed. Looking around, with his curiosity piqued, he spotted a few flower petals just inside the door.
“Hello?” Pistachio called out, wondering who or what had intruded his suite.
Silence met the young stallion, which only made him more anxious. Hesitantly, he snuck forward to get a better look into his room. As soon as he scanned the area, he went rigid. Upon his bed, surrounded by flowers, lie none other than Rarity. It wasn’t the mare herself that gave him a moment for pause, it was what she had on; or lack thereof.
Resting on her back with her hind legs splayed, she seductively stared at him. Clad in a pair of crotchless panties, her marehood was virtually bare. Dark and engorged, it’s moist lips glistened in the dim light. While Pistachio had never seen one in real life, she was undoubtedly aroused. Between her painfully exposed nethers, and her come-hither look, it was clear she only had one thing in mind.
The moment dragged on, with the two ponies peering at one another. Rarity seemed remarkably calm, yet Pistachio broke into a cold sweat. Despite himself, his stallionhood slipped from its sheath to dangle beneath him. An impish smile played across the mare’s face, as her eyes danced over his hardening appendage.
“You can get a closer look…” she muttered, her voice dripping with the promise of sinful pleasures.
“M...My Mamma said I’m not supposed to look at mares that way,” Pistachio hastily, yet begrudgingly shot back. Though his lips said one thing, his gaze never wavered from her loins; that was, until she began to move.
Rolling to her side and easing herself from the bed, Rarity strode over to him. Her hips swayed from side to side, as she moved closer. “Oh, it’s alright,” she whispered, taking his hoof in her own. Guiding him deeper into the room, he obediently followed. As soon as they were beside the bed, she turned on him. The only word that could describe her look was ‘predatory. With a herculean exertion of magical force, she flung him onto the mattress.
Now supine on the sheets, with his head resting on the pillows, Pistachio peeked down at her. Crawling onto the bed, Rarity brought her snout between his hind legs. Past his fetlocks, over his thighs, she didn’t stop until her muzzle was a scant inch from his crotch. He shuddered, as he felt her hot breath on his package.
“Thank goodness your Momma isn’t here, is she?” she boldly stated, before dragging her tongue up his family jewels.
Pistachio groaned, as all the pieces fell into place. Here he was, a blossoming young stallion, trapped in a room with the embodiment of beauty and generosity itself. Though he couldn’t fathom why he’d tickled her fancy, he clearly had. With nowhere to go, even if he’d wanted to leave, he remained still.
Kissing and lavishing her way from his sack to the tip of his length, Rarity reveled in her accomplishment. Her final ploy, to lie in wait for him, had paid off. Sure, he hadn’t mounted her or thrown her to the bed, but that was part of the charm. Youthful stallions, inexperienced in sensual matters, were just as savory as their counterparts. She would be the first to claim him, educating him on the carnal arts, and that was a conquest worthy of pursuit.
Parting her lips, Rarity slipped the blunted head of his tool into her eager maw. It had to be his first time with a mare, considering he was already drooling pre-cum, which only cemented her previous assumption. As the warm, salty fluid washed over her taste buds, she pressed onward.
Reclined as he was, Pistachio had a perfect view of the unexpected fellatio. Slowly, almost experimentally, she bobbed her head, incrementally working more and more of his shaft into her gullet. Suddenly, he gasped, as his member slipped into her throat. A shiver ran from the base of his tail to the top of his head, causing him to loudly moan. While he had given himself the occasional hoof-job, they paled in comparison to the mare’s mouth and tongue.
Retracting her head slightly, and taking a quick breath, Rarity set herself to task. Skillfully, she sucked and slurped upon his length; making sure to pay attention to its delicate underside, the unicorn worked her head up and down. Her marehood enthusiastically winked and seized upon itself, impatient and ready to be filled.
Pistachio’s thighs trembled, as an overwhelming pressure began to well within him. Try as he might, he couldn’t say a word. Sporadically, his hips twitched, while his balls contracted to his groin. He knew what was coming, but he had no way of warning her. The young stallion was powerless to stop what was about to happen, so he only hoped Rarity wouldn’t be too angry with him.
Feeling Pistachio’s legs quiver, Rarity leapt into action. Reaching up, she gently massaged his testes. True, she hadn’t expected him to last terribly long, and she still had an entire week to spend with him, yet she would have liked a bit more time to sate herself that evening. Pulling back a hair, yet keeping his member in her mouth, she awaited his impending load.
Mewling shrilly, Pistachio writhed in place. An initial spurt of cum was but a precursor for the deluge which surged through his length. Though his eyes were screwed closed, he could tell she was voraciously gulping down every last drop. It was unlike any orgasm he’d ever had, eclipsing even his wildest imaginings. At the sound of a satisfied sigh, he found the bravery to look downward.
“My, you simply are delicious,” Rarity purred, licking a droplet of spunk from her lips. “What ever would Mommy dearest say about that little show,” she affectionately added, idly stroking his meat.
Sheepishly, Pistachio shrugged. Maybe it was the post-coitus stupor, but she was even more attractive than before. Unsure of what to do, or what to say, he kept his mouth shut. Slowly, she turned her attention from his stallionhood to his face, before smiling wickedly.
“So…” she cooed, realizing he was still rock hard, “want to try the real thing?”
The thought of actually having sex caused Pistachio’s heart to skip a beat. Never, not in all his years, would he have thought his first time would be with the Rarity. Even though he was painfully nervous, he nodded. Shuffling to turn over, he stopped, when a hoof softly pressed against his hip.
“Just lie back and enjoy yourself,” Rarity kindly instructed, steadily getting to her hooves.
Standing upon the mattress, she turned away from him, before swinging her rump over his waist. Glancing back, and ensuring her positioning was correct, she flipped her tail to the side. Reverse cowgirl, while not the most pleasurable position for her, would let him get an unparalleled view of the action. Slowly, she squatted to her haunches, only stopping when she felt the tip of his member brush against her sex.
“Are you ready?” she murmured. Without waiting for a reply, she bore down upon him, languidly impaling herself on his length.
As his tool was buried within Rarity’s sublimely hot and moist confines, Pistachio’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. If the oral had been a taste of paradise, her marehood was heaven itself. His body’s natural instincts took hold, forcing him to take action. The show itself was utterly forgotten, as he impulsively bucked his hips upwards.
“Good colt,” Rarity moaned, gyrating atop him.
Rhythmically, she started pistoned herself on his member. Though he wasn’t the largest stallion she’d ever been with, he still managed to hit all the right places. The only noises that filled the room were those of heavy breaths, along with the steady Plap Plap Plap of bodies colliding.
Bouncing on him, Rarity’s ass jiggled with every downstroke. Making sure to grip his shaft, with her upward movements, she devoutly repeated the cycle. She had to admit, while it was not her preferred position, his medial ring was delightfully grinding against her g-spot. Beyond the physical, the psychological stimulation was divine.
Knowing that her time with him would set the bar, realizing he’s likely spend lonely knights pleasuring himself thinking about her, was sinfully exquisite. Everypony only got one first time, and Rarity was determined that Pistachio’s would be unforgettable. With every plunge, she could feel herself inching closer to release.
Reaching down and sinking one hoof into Rarity’s supple tush, a familiar feeling began welling within Pistachio. The hot snugness of her marehood, her silken interior, the soft, pleasured sighs, it just felt too good; words couldn’t describe the magnitude of pleasure he was asked to endure.
“R...Rarity…” he whined, continuing to thrust into her. Sadly, it was all the warning she was going to receive.
Hammering herself downward, completely entombing Pistachio’s stallionhood within herself, Rarity clenched her pelvic muscles. A familiar, warm sensation of a load filling her caused her to shudder. Again, another quick shot, yet she wasn’t disappointed. She’d nearly reached her peak, and she fully intended to go home and rub one out, but something was amiss. Even though he’d just climaxed a second time, his tool maintained its rigidity.
She’d been so close, so perilously near her limit, that she decided to strike while the iron was hot. Quickly shuffling around, while making sure to keep his member buried within herself, Rarity turned to face Pistachio. Now looming over, she leaned in and deeply kissed him, worming her tongue past his lips. She knew he may not stay hard for long, but she had to give it a try.
“Be a good little colt and buck your Mamma,” she rasped, before gently biting his lip.
Perhaps it was Rarity’s words, her tone, or the fact that he’d suffered two orgasms back to back, but Pistachio complied. His mind was awash in bliss, unable to do anything but worship his gracious host. Grabbing her waist, he went into a frenzy. Unlike before, fettered by apprehension and naiveté, he began furiously thrusting his hips.
Being the seasoned mare that she was, Rarity reciprocated with every fiber of her being. Cum lewdly squelched and squirted from her stuffed entrance, making a mess of them both, yet she cared not. Burying her face in his shoulder, their movements steadily became synchronized.
“Yes! Rut your Mommy,” she squealed, gnawing his ear.
With his nuts slapping against Rarity’s tush, Pistachio gave it his all. Sweat streaked his brow, his heart thundered in his chest, and he felt fuzzy, yet he persisted. All his life, he’d dreamt of the moment he could give himself to a mare, and that moment had finally arrived. Hilting himself, he plowed her with reckless abandon.
“Mamma!” he cried, feeling himself peak. Throughout the previous two climaxes, his stallionhood had been caught unawares, unable to achieve a full flare through a lack of experience or preparation. Now, in the heat of the moment, his body was finally able to reach its zenith.
With the young stallion plowing her like a wild animal, and sensing the head of his length rapidly expanding, Rarity knew it was time. Sinking her teeth into his shoulder, to further secure her claim on the lad, she achieved release. Her marehood spasmed, adding its nectar to the sullied sheets below, while she mewled openly.
As Pistachio’s cock disgorged its third load, he held on for dear life. Throughout it all, his movements failed to cease. Wave after scalding wave of seed flooded into Rarity, painting her depths with his essence. He was hers, now and forever, and nothing would ever change that.
Sluggishly, as his movements ground to a halt, Rarity eased herself onto Pistachio. The two lie there, in an obscene pile, as they fought to regain composure. Frankly, neither of them had had an experience quite like that before, even bearing in mind the schism in their experience. Unsurprisingly, Rarity was the first to gather her wits.
Turning to face him, she grinned. “And to think, we have a whole week to-” she was cut off, as Pistachio kissed her. As weary as she was, her sex violently gripped his shaft.
Pulling away, Pistachio had tears in his eyes. “I think I love you…” he whimpered, hugging her tightly.
“Yes...well...I…” Rarity sputtered. After a moment, she resigned herself to lovingly stroke his cheek. Though she wouldn’t admit it, his admission stirred something within her, something which she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Staying silent, she simply returned his embrace. She’d have an entire week to spend with him.
Together, in each other's forelegs, the two were left to wonder what adventures the rest of his visit would hold…
