It's not what she expected...
Rarity let out a pleased sigh, relaxing in a recliner next to one of the spa’s basins. Her hooves were submerged in a small bowl of hot scented water. Aloe had already freed her mane from a towel, and put every little strand of hair into position. She’d not felt this relaxed in days, it really was the highlight of the week for her. Those hot stone massages were something else.
The seamstress looked at her nails and admired Lotus’ meticulous work. She could almost see her own reflection in them. Some mares thought it was a little tacky, but frankly, Rarity liked how the glossy shine complimented her eyeliner.
Her gaze drifted to the left, to the empty recliner next to her.
Oh well. Fluttershy just didn’t have enough time today. Rarity had been disappointed, but in hindsight...it had been such a nice change of pace. Just herself, no need to chit-chat or talk, just some space and time to lean back and relax while Aloe and Lotus took care of her. It wasn’t like there’d be much to talk about, anyway! The village gossip had been awfully boring lately, and Rarity found it difficult to care about topics such as Bon Bon’s new dress, or whatever Fluttershy’s rabbit had been up to lately.
Rarity looked at the clock, and let out a sigh. Two hours already? Time flew far too quickly when she was here.
A few minutes later Lotus was toweling off her hooves. Rarity stretched, putting her hands above her head to the point that her dangerously rising bathrobe came awfully close to giving curious onlookers a glimpse of her puffy cameltoe. Her body felt warm and fuzzy in all the right places.
She was about to head into the changing room when Aloe approached, and greeted her with a quick bow.
“Miss Rarity? We were wondering if we might interest you in a special, novel service we have to offer. It’s a...special offering, which we’re still experimenting with, and it’s rather different from our usual services.”
The seamstress cocked a brow, and pursed her lips. She tapped her chin. “Oh? And what sort of ‘special service’ might that be...?”
Aloe cleared her throat, and hesitated for a few moments. “Oh, it’s a bit difficult to explain. If it doesn’t sound like something that would appeal to you whatsoever, feel free to say ‘No’, and I will never bring it up again. In a sense, this is a...’service’ for for mares who’re looking for something different, more intense from the ‘normal’ treatments, and–”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Rarity interrupted her, “Aloe, no need to tiptoe around it like that. We know each other. I’ve tried acupuncture before, how much ‘more intense’ and ‘novel’ can it be! You sound like you’re talking about offering me some sort of ‘happy ending’, hah!”
Rarity put a hand to her lips to laugh at her own joke.
“...That is in fact exactly what we are offering, Miss Rarity.” Aloe bowed, doing her best to hide her embarrassment behind a veil of polite formalities. Her cheeks looked even more pink than usual.
The seamstress froze, fingers clawing into her bathrobe. She took a step back as though Aloe had just turned into a writhing mass of spiders. She sputtered: “E-excuse me?”
Aloe winced ever so slightly. “Sorry Miss, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, and–”
Rarity realized something. Of course! Fluttershy wasn’t with her! They’d never offer something like...that as long as she was in company! That’s why she’d never heard of this before! Or well, maybe just since it was new? Aloe had said that they were experimenting with this, after all... Her breathing had grown deep and heavy. Why, the mere suggestion was scandalous! Curiosity got the better of her.
Rarity’s chest heaved once or twice, tail twitching to and fro. “Nonono, don’t worry about that. It takes a lot more than that to throw me off, I’m merely a little surprised, that’s all!”
The spa mare bowed. “We take pride in tending to our client’s needs, Miss Rarity. This is still a trial period for us, and for our newest assistant, but we can assure you that they’re very good, and that we’re hoping to expand these services.” She flushed. “We have been, ah, very thorough in verifying their abilities, and are training them further to meet the high standards of our clients.”
The seamstress coughed awkwardly, and opened her mouth: “Ah, I just don’t know if this is quite for me...” is what she said, but deep, deep down part of her knew damn well that she’d regret walking away from this opportunity. A scandalous little adventure to spice up her life, just like in one of the smutty novellas she hid where Sweetie Belle wouldn’t be able to find them. “Ah, scratch that...I might be interested. I’m just worried about them recognizing me? Ponyville isn’t exactly large.”
“Rarity, we can assure you that this will not be a problem by any means,” Aloe said. “Also, should the experience not meet the high standards which you are used to from us, then we will—of course—offer you a full refund.”
After some more back and forth they’d “convinced” Rarity—Or rather, the seamstress had finally spent enough time quibbling that she did not have to worry about looking too slutty by jumping straight to the occasion.
Rarity struck a pose, hoping to look thoughtful—Two fingers at her chin, the other arm draped across her waist, lifting her vast set of breasts ever so slightly. The hem of her bathrobe fluttered. She’d puckered her lips ever so slightly, and her gaze lingered in the distance. “Why, you are right~! I do deserve to take time for myself. I am sure that this will be a marvelous experience.”
She fluttered her lashes. “Darlings~! I’ll take the ‘happy ending’.”
The sisters bowed politely, thanked her for placing her trust in them, and just two minutes later Rarity was already on her way towards the back room.
Her breath was heavy and deep, wondering just what—or rather ‘who’—was going to wait for her on the other side.
Calm down, Rarity! It’s not a big deal—It’s not like you’re a virgin or anything, so don’t act like one in front of them. Keep that tail raised high, but not too high, and keep swaying your hips, just not too much. You’re a lady. You’re here to have an excellent time, because you deserve it. It’s not like you’re their first client.
She stopped in front of a tall mirror, and gave herself a quick look. Her chest was visibly heaving, so she forced herself to take a few slow, deep breaths.
She thought that she looked just excellent in her pink bathrobe. Traditionally not the most sensual outfit, but with a little bit of imagination this creation of hers could be passed off as lingerie. The fuzzy pink fabric stopped just short of her knees, allowing tantalizing glimpses of her thick, fertile thighs whenever she moved. The low v-cut would’ve looked scandalous in public: She rarely ever dared to show this much cleavage, especially not without any sort of bra to keep her frankly outrageous, dick-teasing breasts in check.
It looked like the soft cloth of her robe was suspended from the cusps of her areolae, as though the material was just barely clinging to it, and one careless movement away from slipping away, fully revealing her bountiful breasts to the world. Emphasis on ‘looked’. The robe had been cut according to her own proportions, and sat much more securely than a curious onlooker would assume. She had (of course) designed the entire outfit for herself, hoping to get a leg up on certain vastly curvier mares by showing off as much as she reasonably could while still staying ‘classy’.
It wasn’t like there were many stallions to compete over around here, no, not at all. This was about looking sexy, for herself, and to instill a hint of amazement or envy in the mares who visited this place.
Rarity puckered her lips, and threw herself a kiss. As vain as it was, those plump, glossy lips did not lie. Neither did those hips, for that matter.
The final steps towards the door were almost nerve-wracking. Exciting. Terrifying. She’d entertained fantasies like these many times in private, but having it happen in real life, just like that, was something entirely different.
Ah, she couldn’t wait to see what absolute hunk of a stallion Aloe and Vera had dragged up! Maybe a buff, sporty pegasus? Or a quiet, tall farm stallion with a deep voice...kind of like Big Macintosh, as long as it’s not the real Big Mac. Now that would be difficult to explain! Not like she’d mind to feel his large, strong hands digging into her body, but she was not going to sacrifice Applejack’s friendship over that.
Rarity reached for the door handle with her magic, head dazzled with images of handsome stallions, most of them lifted from the latest issue of Gentlecolt’s Fashion.
The seamstress stepped across the brink, and found herself in a rectangular room, small enough to be crossed in three or four steps. The spa’s neat radial floortile pattern continued in the back room, and the small window was covered with a dark purple curtain to ensure her privacy, leaving a few flickering candles as the primary source of light. Beneath the window stood a cupboard with an assortment of hygiene articles on top, bulky enough to span from wall to wall.
On Rarity’s left another set of walls extended into the room (presumably to have slightly more space in the actual storage room, which could be accessed from the other side?), giving the entire thing a squished U-shape.
Rarity tilted her head.
This...did not look like what she’d imagined. Now, she’d known that this was a back room, and almost certainly a repurposed storage room, but this thing was small enough that it felt more like a ‘booth’ rather than a ‘pleasure room’. Pftt, there was barely even a place to lie down! Just an expansive mat right in the middle, and a stool in one of the corners.
Rarity put her hands onto her hips, and puffed up her cheeks. This was not what she’d expected. At all. There’d been some sort of mistake, right? ...Right? How was anyone supposed to get into the right mood in here! The mat hardly looked comfortable, she wasn’t sure if the cupboard was even sturdy enough, and the smell of those scented candles was anything but romantic.
It took her a good few seconds to figure out what she was looking at: In fact, it took her precisely as long as it took her to discover the hole that had been cut into the wall, exactly at waist-height, in the very center of the room, right above the mat.
She nearly fainted, fingers clasping over her mouth, just barely managing to suppress a high-pitched squeak.
This room...this booth was a glory hole.
Her heart beat in her chest, this time not out of arousal, but out of pure annoyance. Really? A glory hole? Did they think that she was that cheap? Was this the extra-special secret luxury service Ponyville’s finest spa had to offer? Even so, she was glad she’d not paid for the happy ending yet, and...well, she certainly was not going to pay for the privilege to suck off a stranger. Hah! What a ridiculous thought.
Rarity took a deep, deep breath, slowing herself down, rather than allowing herself to indulge in fantasies of how she’d rain fire and fury over the sisters after this. She counted her slow, deliberate breaths, her chest heaving a full ten times until she’d calmed herself down.
As she opened her eyes, she was staring straight at it. At the hole. She had barely even noticed that she’d sat down, and didn’t know why she hadn’t picked the stool.
The seamstress let out a frustrated sigh. Really? This was supposed to be the ‘happy ending’? The secret special at the end of a long wellness treatment? Fellatio was anything but relaxing. She’d done it before, and well, just about every stallion who’d ever received the honor of Ponyville’s finest lady going down on him had been a rough brute, thrusting into her mouth, while reaching for her horn or her mane(!!!).
One foot to the right of the hole, a bell dangled motionlessly. Rarity stared at it, as though it was somehow responsible for her annoyance.
Rarity’s glare drilled into its polished bronze surface. As she huffed, her own reflection huffed right back at her.
“Pft. Why are you looking at me like that?” Rarity addressed her reflection, “We are going to be out of here any minute now, then we’ll walk to the counter, tell them that it’s not for us, and then we will never talk about it to anyone ever again.”
The bell did not respond.
Rarity puffed up her cheeks. Her gaze fell onto the bell again. She glanced left, then right, reached for the cord, and rang the bell.
Well.
She’d already decided that this wasn’t for her, and that she was not going to pay for this outrageous disappointment of a ‘special service’.
But as long as she was still here, she might as well humor the idea. She always had the option to just walk out. It’s not like she had to suck whichever fat, meaty horsecock was about to be shoved through the hole in the wall, after all! It’s not like she was into this. The thought was strangely freeing. No, she was a lady. Prim and proper. Not some sort of degenerate slut who threw herself at dick in the local gloryhole, no, not at all. She was just having a little fun before she left.
Besides, there were no social strings attached to this! Whoever was on the other side didn’t even know who she was! No awkward conversations, no ‘waking up next morning, taking a look at the person sleeping next to you, and regretting everything’, no nervously fumbling stallions, just a thick stallionhood for her to play around with.
And then—suddenly—there was a fat, flaccid horsecock hanging right in front of Rarity’s muzzle. Oh. She scrunched her muzzle as the potent scent of cock washed over her, her eyes tracing along the thick veins. Goodness, that flare was thick. It looked like a sledgehammer, brown with a few dark yellow-ish specks at the base, and meaty. Certainly on the bigger side, too.
Rarity reached out, and wrapped a hand around its girth. Or tried to, anyway. The thing was thick enough her thumb was unable to reach all the way around to her middle finger. The cock twitched in her hand as Rarity gave it a gentle, tentative stroke. The surface was rubbery and meaty, as expected, and frankly, she really needed some...
Oh, there it was.
The seamstress fingered for the bottle of lube on the table, and gave it a squeeze to splurt a dollop of slippery lube onto the shaft’s base, and used her other hand to stroke, and spread it across the veiny, slowly hardening surface. It twitched in eager anticipation.
Spit had gathered in Rarity’s mouth, somehow. She swallowed, while the heady, virile scent of cock washed over her.
She glanced at the door, hesitating for a few seconds with bated breath, as though there was any risk of Aloe or Lotus waltzing in.
Rarity fumbled with the knot of her bathrobe cord—her other hand still wrapped around the cock—and unfastened it, allowing her massive breasts to spill free. Each one was fat enough to fill, overflow, and dominate a single stallion’s hand with ease. Frankly, she was not quite as stacked as Pinkie Pie or Fluttershy, but her hourglass-shape and slim waist still made for a near-pornographic look, especially after she’d spent two hours letting the spa sisters pretty her up. Sometimes all a mare needed was a little bit of make-up added in all the right places.
Her tits sat proudly on her chest, and bounced as she pushed herself up into a low squatting position. She took a deep breath, feeling her breasts heave and wobble ever so slightly as she positioned herself, fat dick swaying in front of her, slick with lube. She stared at it, hesitated for a second, and then grasped it, this time using both of her hands. It was so hot. Physically, she meant. It was warm to the touch. She could feel it pulsate in her hands, thickening as she stroked it with slow, steady movements.
Sweet Celestia, this felt obscene. She was jerking off some stranger, some stallion’s dick in a booth inside of the local spa like a Manehattan backalley whore.
Just a few moments later, his cock was thickening and hardening. Rarity’s mouth felt dry. She’d barely even noticed how much she’d gotten into this. Her movements were slow, steady, rhythmical, and a steady rill of precum was dribbling from his flare across her fingers.
She slowed down, and took a deep breath. The scent was warm. Potent. Not nearly as sweaty and pungent as she’d expected.
Still, Rarity was hesitating. Should she really continue with this?
Having released his cock, she saw it twitch in front of her, waiting for her to continue. She licked her lips. Her body felt warm. Hot, even. Tingly and weak. Like she shouldn’t be here. Like one of her friends might burst in and see her like this, even though she well knew that clearly none of her friends were even in the same building as her. But still, the feeling, that softly pulsing sensation of heat and indecency persisted, and pushed her forwards.
Yes, yes she should. This was going to be her little secret. She’d get to pretend to be one of these...rich, beautiful Canterlot mares who were down on their luck and forced to make ends meet in a local glory hole. Just like in one of those steamy stories she liked to read. Just this once, just a dirty little fantasy she indulged in.
She posed, as if for an invisible camera, and raised her fingers above her head. A dollop of slimy precum was dangling between two fingers. She opened her mouth, and let it splat onto her tongue. Goodness, you’re so dirty, Rarity~!
Rarity’s gaze returned to the half-hard beast of a stallionhood, still dangling from the hole in the wall.
Nnnff. She bit her lip.
Time to wrap her lips around that fat, meaty flare. Just a little blowjob. It was going to be her little secret.
It’s not like she was going to get too carried away here, right?
The mare propped herself up, wrapped her dainty fingers around her anonymous benefactor’s cock, and placed a kiss onto his flare. Some of her lipstick clung to the surface. Another smeared kiss, lower down the shaft. Then a third one. This time the lipstick-mark was near-perfect, to Rarity’s satisfaction.
Rarity licked her lips, and finally took his cockhead inside of her mouth, feeling the potent, musky flavor wash over her tongue. She shuddered.
Yes, she was not going to get too carried away, that much was certain...
Author's Note
Second part will be uploaded after a bit more editing, probably tomorrow. Stay tuned! Feel free to leave a comment, I like them a lot. 
...but she's certainly not going to complain.
Rarity took a deep, deep breath and then descended again. Smears of lipstick were spread across her anonymous benefactor’s behemoth of a stallionhood, a surefire sign of all the worship the cock-doting, drooling slut of a seamstress had bestowed upon it. Her lips were wrapped around its girth in a tight O-shape, her cheeks hollowed inwards from the suction. She felt his every single twitch. Every little throb. The sensation of thick, pulsating veins, and the grotesque girth of his medial ring as she got closer and closer to fitting every last inch down her pained throat.
Her pose was nothing short of pornographic: On her knees, her back arched and tail high in the air, while tiny rills of mare juices and sweat trickled along her legs, or just splattered to the floor. The air was almost foggy with the heady scent of sex. The cord of her open bathrobe dangled uselessly, sliding across the floor in sync with Rarity’s rhythmic motions.
Rarity’s hands were at the wall in front of her, fingers tense and arched as she forced herself deeper. Her tits were squished against the wall. Her chest would be heaving, but with far-too-many inches of choker-snapping horsecock stuffed down her throat, there was no room to breathe.
Instead, her rolled-back eyes were clenched shut, and reflexive tears trickled from the corners of her eyes, leaving her pretty white cheeks as a ruined mess of black mascara streaks.
Rarity could not be happier about it.
She was a slut. She’d thrown herself at some random stallion’s greasy, fat horsecock. And why? She didn’t even know. Was it the kick she got out of the humiliation? Maybe. Or maybe she just loved cock far, far more than she wanted to admit. Not the stallions that were attached to them, no, just their fat, musky dicks. Getting to see them stiffen in front of her face, twitching and pumping beads of pre in anticipation of her. Getting to kiss them, suck them, lick them, stroke them, and to wrap her lips around them until they blew their loads down her throat, giving her that warm, fuzzy feeling of knowing that she’d done her job so very well.
Fuck, she almost wished someone could see her like this.
As that monstrous beast of a flare twitched violently inside of her throat, she knew that it was time. She yanked herself up with a rash movement, and her anonymous patron’s fat flare popped from her maw with a satisfying schlorp.
Rarity took a few deep, fast breaths, her tongue lolling from her mouth. Spit dribbled from her mouth, across her chin, and into her cleavage. She was on her knees, the cock loomed in front of her face. Whoever was on the other side was not happy about the sudden lack of a tight, warm hole. Hooves were adjusting their position on the floor, and then Rarity’s partner began to thrust into the hole in desperate, needy frustration.
The seamstress felt a pang of guilt seeing her partner like this. It’d barely been a few seconds, but seeing that cock like that felt almost irresponsible. Her chest still heaving, she wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a squeeze. The stallion on the other side slowed down, and stopped as Rarity began to jerk him off with slow, sloppy movements. The sheer amount of spit and prejizz clinging to his dick left her fingers webbed and slippery.
Rarity knew he was still close. She’d not meant to deny him like that. No, she just wanted him to blow in her hands. She wanted to feel it on her face.
She panted. Panted like a whore. Her warm, heavy breath washed over the shuddering flare in front of her, while her once-dainty fingers pumped up and down across its length with frantic motions. The cockhead thickened again, and pulsated.
The seamstress whimpered to herself. “Please...Please...pleaseplease...” An unspoken ’I need this. I need to get you off. I want to feel your cock shudder and twitch, and feel you blow your warm, virile cum over my face, as though I am some sort of desperate, cock-thirsty slut.’ hung in the air. She did not have enough time to spell it all out, and even if, she was merely mumbling to herself in cock-addicted stupor.
An explosion of pearly-white slimy semen burst from the mysterious stallion’s flare, and splattered against the back of Rarity’s wide-open mouth. Pungent. Salty. Slimy. Potent. Her tongue lolled from her mouth as she milked him, her hands gently but decisively coaxin spurt after spurt of warm, slimy cum from his bloated, swollen nuts.
For the first four ropes of cum, they only seemed to increase in intensity, and Rarity’s aim suffered severely under the onslaught. One smacked against her forehead and mane, ruining what had been easily an hour of hard work of the spa sisters earlier today. A second smacked against her chin, leaving strands of cum dangling from her muzzle, slowly smacking onto her tits one by one.
She finally wrapped her lips around his flare, her hands gently, outright lovingly pumping along his cock, as the final few strands of sloppy white semen bubbled into her mouth. She swallowed eagerly. Like a good girl. Like a slut. It'd been a while since she'd sucked someone off, and this was the first time that the taste was that potent, masculine, heady, if not outright addictive. She'd never thought she'd get used to that flavor, and yet here she was, even going so far as to clean off his flare with her tongue, keeping it in her mouth for a good long, few moments until she allowed it to pop out of her mouth.
Rarity gave his cock a gentle kiss, still holding it gently in her hand. It shuddered ever so slightly. Still half-hard.
Oh no, she was not done yet.
Someone knocked on the door.
The sound got lost in the savage, rhythmic smacking of Rarity’s ass clapping against the stall. She had been at it for a while. The air was hazy with the stench of sex and sweat, her bathrobe was lying in a corner of the room, and the rest of the spa had been all but forgotten. It was no wonder she’d not registered the knocking with the merciless percussion of her own ass filling the room.
“Uhm... Miss Rarity? Are you there...? You’ve been in there for quite some time...?”
This time Rarity noticed.
And this time, where they should’ve been a nervous, embarrassed squeak, all Rarity had to offer was exhausted panting. She was far, far too engrossed in her task to appreciate any distractions.
The seamstress lost her rhythm. Her knees quivered and shook while she held onto the cupboard, just barely keeping herself from keeling over. She panted, and slowed down with that beastly cock still half-way inside of her. She shimmied her ass a little. The cock twitched inside of her.
“I-I...” Rarity shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. A stray strand of semen detached itself from her mane and smacked onto the floor. She cleared her throat, and raised her voice. “I do not recall having asked for any help, Aloe.”
There was a pause on the other side of the door. “U-understood, Miss Rarity.” She left.
The seamstress let out a little sigh. Goodness, she’d practically shouted at Aloe. No matter, she could apologize for getting carried away later. For now she had to get back to what really mattered. Rarity threw a glance back towards the wall, and prepared to continue.
And on the other side of the wall?
Well.
Someone was panting and whimpering into a ball-gag, a trickle of spit dribbling down her chin and across her breasts. Just barely capable of keeping it together, as some mare milked her cock like her life depended on it.
Fluttershy’s stood spread-legged, holding on to handlebars to steady her own position, her massive, twitching cock buried into a certain somepony’s warm, fertile depths.
It twitched.
Her swollen balls were utterly frustrated by the sudden hold-up. Goodness, why was she slowing down, what was that voice, and...
Wait.
Time came to a standstill.
It took several long seconds until Fluttershy’s foggy, rut-hazy mind had processed the sound. The gears inside of her head turned agonizingly slowly as she realized what she’d just heard, or rather, whom she’d just heard.
Rarity.
An ice-cold shudder rushed down her spine, while her cock throbbed harder, and hotter than it ever had before.
Not even Celestia herself could’ve prevented, or even stalled Fluttershy’s coming avalanche of an orgasm.
Any doubts, any desire to slow down, or to stop was drowned in the sheer heat, and bliss, the sensation of feeling Rarity’s sopping wet depths squeeze around her cock. All reason went out of the window, shoved aside by the most primal, animalistic part of her brain, the voice which shouted nothing but “BREED. BREED. BREED. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.” over and over.
Her hips bucked instinctively, pulling back, only to ram herself forwards a fraction of a second later. She heard a muffled gasp from the other side. A second thrust followed, and that was all it took. She’d been holding back for so long. Now that she knew that it was Rarity on the other end of the wall, she just couldn’t hold back any further. Her blue-balled, swollen nuts tensed up, and began to empty themselves. Fluttershy’s orgasm washed over her in a wave of hot bliss and relief, while she just kept on thrusting.
She was throwing herself at the wall, practically humping the hole like a rabid dog, while her bloated nuts delivered the first of many, many ropes of dense, sperm-packed seed into the deepest depths of her friend’s womb. No matter that Rarity had sucked her off a mere few minutes ago, no, her balls had been aching to release, and finally got what they’d been craving.
If it weren’t for the walls, and the ball-gag Fluttershy was wearing, then Rarity would’ve recognised her adorable, high-pitched pantering and whimpering immediately. Of course, no one had, ah, forced her to wear that gag, no. Fluttershy was just keenly aware of how loud she could get when her stiff, hard dick was on the very edge of release or beyond, especially with someone else milking it like her life depended on it.
Her cockhead had thickened, flared up, working to keep every last drop of potent seed right where it belonged, in Rarity’s womb.
Fluttershy whimpered into the gag, her eyes rolling back as Rarity finally adjusted to the sudden change-of-pace, and began to gyrate her hips into the movement, and then slammed them back down according to Fluttershy’s frenzied, clumsy rhythm. Spit was dribbling from her lips, down her chin in foamy, sloppy globs which then splattered onto the floor, or across her heaving breasts.
Slam. Slam. Slam.
A few long, drawn-out moments later, Fluttershy’s mind slowly began to clear up and the hard, relentless thrusts slowed down.
As for Rarity? Well. Unlike Fluttershy, Rarity was not exactly done just yet.
Sweet Celestia.
I feel so sore.
Rarity knew that she’d been slacking off when it came to her workout-routine, but it felt like she was exercising muscles that hadn’t seen any use in years. She wiped sweat off her forehead, and adjusted her stance, struggling to even remain standing under the hard, sudden onslaught of her partner.
She felt her partner buck into the wall. Needily moving his hips, hammering into her with greedy, horny movements, which had gotten her so, so close to her own peak. She panted.
She’d felt how he’d blown his load into her. The sudden twitch, the sensation of warmth bursting into her, the flare.
And...now what he was slowing down, and losing his energy, she was not going to let him get away with that until she too had reached her peak. She wasn’t done yet, after all, and she was not even sure if she should feel flattered, or frustrated by his sudden ‘enthusiasm’.
He was still almost fully hard.
She spread her legs a little bit further to accommodate the virile spire that was still half-way inside of her depths, and made every little movement a challenge: Both due to the way the sheer size of that cock kept her in place, and the pleasurable, warm shower of tingles that washed over here when it moved inside her.
Rarity rode his cock. First slowly, then at an increasing pace, feeling his cum move inside of her, sloppily dripping from her pussy whenever she moved forwards.
She steadied herself with the cupboard in front of her, and slowly pulled herself forwards, then pushed herself back again. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Slowly riding herself closer and closer to her peak, sweat trickling down her forehead, tail lifted as far as she could, and her wobbling legs fighting to fend off the exhaustion, and struggling to synchronize her movements with the weak thrusts of her partner on the other side.
Rarity took a deep breath, and then slammed her ass against the wall with a meaty, satisfying smack, burying the stranger’s stallionhood deep inside of her slippery, hot depths. This wasn’t passionate, gentle love-making. It felt dirty, and depraved. Part of her wished that whoever was on the other side had just barged into the room, and pinned her against the wall, and had fucked her while digging his hands into her body, and greedily kissing her neck.
Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth, and her pants were intermingled with greedy, needy moans as she worked herself closer, and closer, and closer to her peak, just those last, final few steps until...
Rarity’s breath got stuck in her throat as her pussy tensed up, and her pelvic muscles tightened around the meaty beast that was Fluttershy’s cock. The seamstress had one hand between her legs, frantically chewing on her lower lip as she stimulated her clit, and pushed herself over the edge.
Her ass smacked against the wall, gyrating slowly, almost gently as a wave of steamy, hot bliss steamrolled her body, and threatened to destabilize her legs once and for all. Her heart pumped, her vision was ever so slightly blurry, and all was right in the world, if only for a few moments.
It had taken a long shower at the spa to rid her fur and mane of any remaining strands of semen, but...well, ridding her face of any traced of smeared make-up would take a while longer. Frankly, she looked terrible like this, but felt better than she had in ages.
Rarity stepped out of the showers, and made her way to the entrance, where the spa sisters greeted her with a bow.
“We hope that our service met your standards. We are deeply sorry for the ah, ‘issues’ that came up. We’ll gladly help you clean up and redo—”
“Oh darlings, that won’t be necessary. I feel quite excellent now, and isn’t that the entire goal?” She fluttered her lashes, and slid a tip across the counter. "I'll be back next week, as usual."
“O-Of course, Miss Rarity,” Aloe stuttered, and watched her client waltz out the front doors, her hips swaying to and fro. She had not seen her that upbeat in ages.
Author's Note
Woke up sick, send me all the spare health you have available. 🤒
Not fully happy with this chapter, but that's all fine, not every story has to be perfect. I hope you enjoy it, whoever you are, mysterious reader! 
Oh also, I have a bunch of other plans queued up, let's hope I'll keep up my current schedule. I'm sure y'all will love the Gilda story once it's done. I might also pick up another small commission in the meantime.
