Velvet and You

You groggily open your eyes to see the ceiling. It’s too early for this. As the reflection of the afternoon sun dances across the white popcorn, it almost looks like a cloudy sunset on the ceiling. You watch it for a little, not really thinking just enjoying the slowly moving light, the intricate designs, and the silence. After a few peaceful moments you turn your head to the side and the sight of Velvet’s awake and glaring face startles you.

She’s standing next to the couch, silently watching you. Her face is inscrutable, but her mane is neatly brushed and now that you think about it, the faint scent of her lavender soap fills your nostrils. She’s been up long enough to shower.

Awkwardly, you blink. You look around the room and notice your shirt and pants, folded and neatly pressed at the base of the couch. “How long have you been standing there?”

She stares at you, seemingly emotionless. “Long enough. Get up. You go shower. I need to clean, or maybe burn, the couch.”

You shrug. She’s not wrong. “Sure, whatever you say Pussy-C…”

Telekinesis shuts your mouth and your lips burn from the intensity of the magic. It’s not just a numb tingle like usual, it actually hurts this time.

Her voice is even and steady as you grab at your face in surprise, “Please, call me Velvet. We’ll talk after the shower.”

As soon as it started, the grip relaxes and you can feel your lips again. You don’t say anything as you stare at her in confusion. Were you just pony slapped?

She nods, silently and meaningfully, towards the bathroom.

Unsure of what to do, you get up from the wreckage of the couch and grab your clothes. As you walk toward the bathroom, you glance back at Velvet. She’s quietly staring at the couch with her eyes focused on one particular cushion that’s been heavily burned and is probably made of more holes than stuffing.

You smirk as you notice that her tail hitches at the sight. Ever so slightly, it swishes to the side and you get a glimpse of her battered pussy. She’s red under her tail, and maybe a little bruised. Your smirk grows as you realize that she doesn’t notice her little reaction, nor your gaze.

After the shower, you feel refreshed. In a lot of ways you feel great. Something about the day makes you want to sing and dance. It makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs that you got laid, and it was fucking amazing. You can feel Him gloating. He loves this too, and it’s oddly peaceful to be in complete agreement.

Every time you close your eyes, you remember her cute little face or hear her cute moans, or remember the absolute heat that encompassed your dick; and you want more. Last night was absolutely phenomenal. You don’t know if sex in general is this good, or maybe it’s that you had sex with a pony, but you highly suspect it’s because you had sex with Velvet. She isn’t some random person off the street. You know her wants, her fears, and even some of her oddities.

And now you know what her tongue tastes like when she cums, and you will never forget it. Humming happily, you make your way back to the living room to see the couch completely covered in a thick quilt while Velvet tugs at a corner with her magic. She’s lining it up, and a few various spray bottles are floating nearby.

You walk up behind her and put a hand on her back, just resting it comfortably halfway up. There’s nothing lewd about the gesture, it’s typical for ponies to touch each other there. Hell, it’s partially how she guides you through town when she’s in a hurry.

Without saying anything, her horn flashes and your hand falls limply to your side. It doesn’t hurt, but now you can’t feel anything. Startled, you jump back and grab it with your other hand. “What the hell, Velvet?”

She turns around and looks at you, her face as emotionless as earlier. “I’m focusing right now. I have to make it look perfect.”

You cradle your numb arm to your chest, “It looks good enough. You didn’t have to zap me.”

She shakes her head, and you notice a slight panicked note in her voice, “No. It has to be perfect.”

You stare for a moment as it suddenly occurs to you that maybe Velvet isn’t feeling as good as you are. He doesn’t care. You do. “Hey, um… are you okay?”

She keeps pulling on the quilt, lining it up to the side of the couch. “I’m fine. I just need to make sure he never looks under the blanket. He can’t see under the blanket, because then he’ll know what happened to the couch. And if he knows, then he’ll ask me. And I won’t lie. I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him that after all this time, after two beautiful children, after years of hard work, I threw it all away to fuck around with an alien for a night, and it was easily the best sex I’ve ever had.”

You silently watch as she keeps meticulously pulling on the quilt. Her eyes are watery, and they’re panicked.

“And I can’t do that. I’m a married mare. So it has to be perfect. It has to be perfect and he can never look because he can never know.”

You awkwardly watch, unsure of what to do. She’s not making any progress anymore, she just keeps pulling the quilt from one side to the other and back again. It’s painful to watch, so you step forward again, risking another numbing bolt.

“Hey, Velvet. It’s going to be okay. The couch looks fine. Why don’t you take a few breaths, and then we can talk, all right? Gingerly, you put your still working hand on her back. This time she doesn’t zap you.

She stares at the couch, the corner of the quilt settling down as she takes a few deep breaths. You just keep your hand on her back, not daring to get any closer but not wanting to leave her. You’re worried.

He’s horny. He’s wondering if you can swing her fear and desperation into another debauched evening.

You tell Him to shut the fuck up.

Velvet’s voice is timid, uncharacteristically so. “That was a one time thing.”

You nod, but don’t say anything. He vehemently disagrees, but doesn’t get to offer his input.

She continues, flicking her head over her shoulder to look at you with teary eyes, “We can’t talk about it. We can’t acknowledge it. We take it to our graves, understood?”

You nod your head, but He doesn’t want this. He fights you, hard, and somehow you compromise with Him. Your voice comes out almost unbidden, “Kiss on it?”

Her sky blue eyes go from wide with panic to unfiltered disgust as she narrows them at you. You see her horn start to glow as she thinks about zapping you.

You stutter, “I mean… as a promise! We kiss on it to seal the deal. Our mouths keep the secret!”

She continues to stare at you in disgust, but her horn sputters out. “Fine.”

As she turns to fully face you, your hand slides off her back. She uses her telekinesis to gently put it back when she lifts her forelegs awkwardly up your torso. With a little effort, she’s standing next to you, her hind legs settled comfortably on the floor and her arms around your back. Her head comes to your chest, and she tilts it all the way back to look at you.

Her eyes are beautiful, even when they’re narrowed suspiciously. She takes a deep breath, and you feel her chest against your stomach. She seems unsure about being on two feet, but she’s managing well. You steady her, and she leans into you. It’s nice, holding her like this.

She huffs, “I’m waiting.”

Awkwardly, you realize you were staring at her a little too long. “Sorry… You’re distracting. I got lost in your eyes.”

She flushes red, and her retort is quiet, “No flirting…”

She doesn’t make any move to kiss you, and you just keep watching her face. She’s adorable, even angry and nervous. You take a hand and brush her mane to the side, ensuring clear access to her face. She shivers, but doesn’t stop you. As you lean down to put your mouths together, you pause and leave a light kiss on her nose.

The red blush on her face deepens. She glances away, unwilling to chastise you as you slip past her snout and press your lips to hers.

At first she’s stiff, but in moments she melts. You feel her press her body to yours and her heart beats. She opens her mouth and her tongue slides out to meet you. It’s a strange kiss. You take your time to explore her mouth, and she seems to do the same. You want to remember what she feels like. What she tastes like. What she smells like.

You want to remember Twilight Velvet as your little Pussy-Cat, and it seems like she wants to remember it as well. Her tongue is hot, and her breath grows fast as she breathes into you.

The kiss ends, and she slips away, sliding down your body almost reluctantly. She shivers, and you notice her tail swishing from side to side, not that you can see underneath. She shakes her head once, and stamps her hoof into the ground before calmly saying, “It’s over.”

You sigh. “I guess so.”

She sighs back, “For now, can you stay out of the living room? Just keep in Twilight’s room until I get this figured out. She’s got plenty of books to keep you busy.”

You nod, deciding not to remind her that you can’t quite read. The moment doesn’t seem right for it. Maybe tomorrow you’ll ask for the TV or something. For now, all you do is smile and wave as you make your way to the guest room turned prison cell that you’ve been confined to.

“So long…” Pussy-Cat. You say it to yourself.

He’s not so sure.