Not So Quiet Mountain Town.

by overlord-flinx

Rating: mature
Tags: Porn, Sex, Sunset Shimmer, Slice of Life, Human, Anthology, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Other
Length: 16738

An anthology series where we take short vignettes to see the intimate moments throughout the sleepy city of Ponyville. Very intimate moments.

Ponyville. A lively, bustling town filled with hundreds of lovely people; and each one with a thousand or so stories they play a part in. And though you wouldn't guess it by looking at the pleasant smiles and the cheery chatter, many stories in the city are rife with thrills and intimacy. You can't throw a stone in this town without hitting on another saucy love-affair.

Lets take a little look-see.

Anthology series of just shameless, self-indulgent fun.

Warning tags when applicable at the start of each chapter.

PM or comment about suggested future pairing or events.

Art done by the talented Johnjoseco.

Current Tags: domination/humiliation, fingering, cuddling, FxF make-out sessions, Forced public masturbation and risk of getting caught. Join the comments in pushing for different ones. The court is open. See how long this can get.

Featured: 12/18-12/19. Yay!

Published 2023-12-18 06:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-01-29 04:15:23 UTC

Introduction: A Not So Quiet Town

Equestria is a fascinating country. A land and culture built on myth and legends, some say. Of equines that roamed the mountaintops, plumbed the deepest reaches of the ocean, and traversed expanding horizons ad infinitum. Or so those tales would have you believe. Nobody truly knows for sure. All that remains of those mystical times are lands given their namesakes, cities raised with homages to those stories in their titles, and vague hums of magic trickling through the blood of some scant few humans.

To an outsider looking in, it may all seem rather silly. But history is often riddled with nonsense and convoluted reasoning as to why something is the way it is. Maybe the real reason was lost long ago, and this is just the way someone decided to record it; and that recording became the only fact—whether it was or not. Whether you find a city named Canterlot or Manehattan being filled by everyday humans to be absurd or not does not stop it from being the case. To some distant traveler from across the winding web of time, your very own world may seem much in the same way.

But that is Equestria. Mystifying, rich in culture, plentiful in nature; and perhaps most importantly, abundant in the most beautiful of women. As far as the eyes can see—be it some lingering gift of magic that permeates all of the realm's existence—ladies of exquisite beauty and charm fill its every corner. And while all of Equestria is ripe with them, you could find no better congregation of some of the finest ladies than the simple mountain town of Ponyville.

Ponyville. Yes, a most peculiar name in a most peculiar country. Said to be named after the herds of horses that once called the lower plains it was built on home. Over the years, the once sleepy little village flourished in no small part thanks to its sister cities nearby. Wood and packed mud were replaced with steel and churned stone; fledgling farmhands grew into bustling city folk. Though it is now a lively town filled with robust life and eclectic tastes, many still find its rustic charms lingering at its fringes.

One could easily imagine starting a life in such an idyllic land. Peaceful, vibrant in its ways, and overflowing with many eccentric citizens. Those citizens all living their own whirlwind lives packed with tales long and short; both mundane and scintillating. The mind races and the heart beats wild at the very idea of peeking into such vibrant lives, to sample the wonders they each hold.

While the stories of Equestria are vast and mystifying to some—leaving questions of magic and myth—, to others, more simple and present stories are far more enthralling. Ponyville is rife with such stimulating tales. Of close friends coming together from across all walks of life, and how members come to find deep, passionate comfort in one another in secret meetings. Stories of mighty, unreachable authorities looming above on the social hierarchy, and how they secret themselves away to lay with the local who stole their heart. Gossip of chaste promises broken in torrid love affairs, and the secret lives of otherwise normal citizens.

Some call it obscene or even shameful the way some choose to live. Yet these self-same are the ones who seek and listen to such tales with bated breath, held tight to their seats for every lurid detail. To embrace and accept such enjoyments, to allow another to live as they please with whomever they please: that is Equestria.

And that is where we find ourselves now. Nestled in the boughs of a quiet mountain town, to listen and hear the fantastical escapades of its alluring citizenry. We part the clouds and curtains to watch the vignettes of the townspeople; their silly little lives, and sensual encounters big and small. Some a passing kiss, others a deep rutting. Others charged with magical affinity, some merely a natural coupling. In that is the charm of Ponyville and by extension Equestria; the normal bounds of intimacy of other lands are not the extent of their options, but merely a place to start. What this may mean to one person can mean a whole other world to another.

So let us join them in this not-so quiet mountain town to partake in the thrills. To hear tales ranging from charming, sweet, saucy and spicy.

Let us visit the bookish librarian who has far more to her life than she lets on.

Visit the charming fashionista who takes her measurements and detailing to greater degrees.

Hear the princesses who stow away their crowns from time to time to feel carnal intrigue.

Give an ear to the fresh face newcomer to this massive town, and come to know their own whirlwind affairs.

Sit in interest of all the wandering souls of the city and simply wonder "what have they done?" or rather "what will they do now?". To marvel at the magic mingled with the mundane, to see lust lash and linger—to see its effects near and fall—that is the charm and excitement that is to be seen.

Equestria has many tales to offer—mystical and otherwise—but for now, let us rest in this town to enjoy its simple, sensual splendor. This leaves us only with a simple question: Who's first?

Author's Note

This is an anthology series where we will pay little visits into the lives of all the citizens of Equestria. Their past romances, their currents, the breadcrumbs to others; hints and otherwise. So please, voice a thought or a pairing, and maybe it'll see a place in a coming chapter. I've collected a few already, but I'm always looking for more to keep this simple story churning out more.

Drop a PM if you're shy, or a comment if you want.

Twilight x Rarity: One Size Fits All

Author's Note

Content: F/F, light domination/humiliation and fingering.

Twilight x Rarity: One Size Fits All

"I'm not so sure..." There were three mirrors in front of Twilight all eagerly trying to sell her on the matter despite the blushing apprehension she showed in all reflections.

"Trust me..." the fashionista's long, nubile fingers clasped over her friend's shoulders, messaging with soothing wrings. She was a masterful saleswoman.

The reflections were rather convincing, there was no denying that. From the sheer fabric's risque design draping over one shoulder and looping around Twilight's slender frame, to how she could only imagine it if she wasn't demonstrating it over her regular clothes beneath it. But no more convincing was the piercing leer three Raritys gave her via the vanity. A cocksure, honest stare that told Twilight that this woman saw potential in what she had on, and just maybe wasn't trying to make a sale alone.

"Well... Are you sure it's really 'me'?"

"Oh darling, of course! Asymmetrical wraps are all the rage these days!" The coaxing raps Rarity plied against Twilight's shoulders eased the idea all the more into her, though it did seem a bit much. The dress seemed more akin to swimwear, not evening attire. Her face flushed just thinking about wearing it to a party; the way the sheer fabric wrapped on itself and merely supported her bust made her feel her girls were libel to just roll out! "You would look positively delectable in it. The object of everyone's eyes."

The purred words brushed at the nape of Twilight's neck, sending pinpricks across her skin. The librarian took a hard swallow of the dry lump resting in her throat before she croaked out a nervous laugh. "Y-You've made a believer out of me, Rarity! Yep! I'll take one!"

Devilish. Pure devilish, and Rarity relished in it with a delighted hum of a giggle as she ripped herself away from her client. Of course Twilight would look absolutely to kill for in that dress—it would be harder to find something her petite, adorable physique wouldn't—so a little light embellishing wouldn't hurt. As of yet, nobody dared to buy this stunning piece that Rarity and Sassy had worked so hard to create. It would revolutionize the late-night scene across Equestria... If only they could get over that nasty bit of triviality that was 'modesty'.

However, with Twilight—a regular personne à connaître—displaying it at some grand gala or even a local soirée, people will no doubt come in droves to have one for themselves. After all, not only is Twilight a who's-who in many social circles, she is also a well known practitioner of modesty. Such a devilish plan indeed.

"I simply knew you would make the right choice, Twilight. Come now, take that off so I can fit you for a much more personal cut," Rarity flew across the workshop floor with all her unbridled glee to fetch her measuring tape and notepad.

"Wait, what?" Despite her surprise at having to go through a fitting now, she followed instructions and got to work unwinding the dress from over her normal clothes. A bit cumbersome as fabric caught against fabric, but she was careful not to rip any part of the already sheer cloth. She was already in line to buy one dress, she didn't need two on the receipt. "I just assumed—"

"Twilight-darling, please..." Something about the way Rarity cut her off and spoke with such certainty made Twilight button her lip in an instant, "You are a treasure. A brilliant, awe-inspiring diamond even among gems. I would not be doing my job of accentuating your beauty if I simply let you leave with something off the rack," the phrase was bitterest poison on Rarity's tongue as her nose scrunched in disgust, "It must be as perfectly fit to your contours as much as those contours are perfectly fit..." Honeyed words burned the ridges of Twilight's ears, but she was not going to complain.

"Uh-hah-okay. Sure. Makes sense, I guess," Twilight gently folded the dress and draped it over one of the vanity mirrors for safe keeping, "But, how many dresses have I gotten from you over the years by now? I can't imagine you don't already have every measurement you need."

"But of course I have your measurements on file," Rarity confirmed the point as she strode back over to Twilight, tape rolled free and lofted between her hands, "But it's also been so long since your last fitting. And I certainly would not be doing my job if I didn't make sure you haven't gained or lost any sizes." Though a cursory glance did imply that Twilight hadn't lost any of her physique; she was still fit, slim, and undeniably attractive. "Now then... I do believe I instructed you to take it off."

A blink followed a pause as they both stood there; one expectantly, the other temporarily off her guard. The instruction had to actually set in for Twilight as the realization lagged behind. When it finally settled in, her face flushed a deep pink, her arms rising up to cover her modesty which was already well preserved by her clothes. "B-But I don't think that's—"

"A precise measurement for this is all but required, Twilight, lets not be prudish. Come now, strip away for me, darling," Rarity's tone invoked both sincerity and command. Twilight unconsciously flinched as Rarity snapped the length of her measuring tape taut, falling in line with the order as she started to disrobe.

All the while the anxious Twilight discarded her attire, Rarity watched with rapt enjoyment. With the modest sweater and slacks out of the way, the soft, inviting contours of Twilight's body were on a much finer display; even with those pesky underpants obscuring further treasures. Still, the gentle plump of Twilight's rear and none-too subtle curves snug at her chest did not need a full display to be taken pleasant note of. "Very good, Twilight, very good, now..." Rarity went to work, scooting in a hair's breath from her client with tape in hand.

Pins and needles trickled down Twilight's exposed skin as she felt the fashionista's nubile, professional hands expertly slip across the tan expanse of her form. The gentle tap of one end of the tape chilled against her skin, only for the invasive caress of Rarity to glide over it. The proximity provoked a slight gasp from Twilight, if only from the chill of the tape. Though that was clearly not the sole reason for the blush that ran across her cheeks and down her neck. A blush that Rarity took welcome note of as she took the first few notes of Twilight's measurements. "Oh... Do you like that, Twilight?" Rarity quirked a curious brow that Twilight saw in the mirror, all too anxious to move beyond the subtle nudges Rarity invoked with her taps. "The way I..." Painted nails traced along Twilight's hips, summoning a muted, shallow gasp from the woman, "...Touch you, darling? Or..." Rarity indulged herself in a little play with her friend, trilling the word just against the bashful woman's ear, "Do you like it when I tell you what to do? How to make me happy? Such a people pleaser, Twilight."

Words were weighted knots in Twilight's throat and they all dribbled out as incoherent 'ums' when she tried to voice them. The two vanities looking back at her only worsened her flushing red as she saw herself near exposed with a dear and close friend running palms across her body. All for measurements, of course. But to see it, like watching a stranger's intimate moments, made her heart flutter and arousal churn. "On second thought, Rarity, maybe I should come back—"

"Inseam, Twilight, come," Rarity would not allow her client to protest, already rolling her tape up to prepare for the next step.

"I-I don't believe the dress really calls for an inseeeeaam!" Twilight lost her words and balance when Rarity palmed her back, nudging her forward and forcing her to press her palms against the vanity to keep her steady. In the same motion, the bold fashionista lightly tapped the inner soles of Twilight's feet to push them apart. As the cool glass settled against Twilight's palms, she was given a good look at the exposed position she was in at Rarity's behest. Her back arched and legs splayed wide enough to display her 'assets', but firmly supported to not worry about toppling one way or the other. Twilight met herself face to face—amethyst eye to amethyst—and she felt her nerves wind with the expression she saw in herself.

Pleasure.

"Good girl, Twilight. I do so enjoy the erotic poses you make for me," She teased, knowing full well she was the one who put Twilight in such an exposing position. But given the wiggled smile on Twilight's face, the flexing fingers moving into balled fists, and the subtle sway of the woman's hips, she wasn't expecting any sort of correction. Then a devilish idea slipped into Rarity's mind. A very naughty thought she simply could not pass up on. "Let us attend to that inseam, shall we? Do stay perfectly still..."

Twilight fought against herself as her nerves commanded her to wrest herself from the situation and pull herself up; but Rarity did order her to stay still. And she was a people pleaser, it would be rude to disobey. Even so, her hips wiggled slightly, and her elbows knocked as they struggled to not go limp. She did not need to be touched, it seemed, as just being spoken to in that way only Rarity could manage did something to her. Those thoughts could not linger for long as every sense of attention drained from Twilight and she coughed up a heated moan, fogging the reflection just before her in the process. Her mind was sent reeling as Rarity had peddled her trade of checking the librarian's inseam, stopping not at the height of Twilight's inner thigh, but coming to rest the span of the tape and the curve of her palm over the plush of Twilight's ass.

Such a motion alone would not put Twilight in such a state, but the two fingers sliding down to split Twilight's sodden petals just beneath her panties was more than enough. Gasps and heated groans poured free of Twilight as she pushed herself further against the vanity, rattling the mirror in its place in vain to move away from Rarity's attention. Wordlessly, Rarity continued to lather her fingers against the drooling passage, using Twilight's now soaked panties as a flimsy divide to keep Twilight from enjoying the full contact.

"Twilight dear, you really must stop squirming about. I won't be able to finish at this rate," Not that she expected her friend to be eager to finish anytime soon. Her middle finger rolling down the slit, rubbing with an ease at Twilight's hidden bulb while peeling her apart to soak through the undergarments all the more. Each press and prod elected another heated squeak of repressed delight from Twilight. Amidst her heated indulgence of Rarity's effortless work, Twilight moved to prop her elbows against the vanity and rest her burning cheek against the fogged over expanse.

"I-I... I can't, Rarity, I can't—" Twilight shook her head as she tried to deny herself that last release of her modesty, but felt it snap as her eyes crossed and her jaw tightened, "Ohhh-fff..." She hissed and bit her tongue, not allowing herself such a profane pleasure as cursing; that would be too much. But burning lips pressing against a mirror, breasts barely hanging behind a loosened bra, pussy convulsing under the care of a dear friend, and cumming openly in a place of business? That was well and good.

Rarity dragged the glazed fingers to her lips, licking across the glistening nectar with a satisfied purr. The cat got her milk, and the dish was very pleased for the effort. "Such a naughty little thing you are, Twilight. I was merely taking your measurements, and now I believe we've come to learn quite a bit about you... And I love it," an almost manic smirk crossed Rarity's now Twilight glistening lips, though she just as quickly shed herself of it and took to a more proper posture. "That's all well and good, and we will have to explore that further... But I really must be attending to other appointments. Oh, darn it. Right when I found something very entertaining..." She huffed and started back to her work table to return her barely done notes and love-soaked tape.

Twilight was barely present as she slid down the vanity, leaving a small streak of her saliva down it before she ultimately collapsed onto her knees. They were both jelly and her chest was heaving, but she took the small moment of solace for what she could. She was ashamed, aroused, awakened, and weakened all at once; though she was still able to make out Rarity's words. Despite whatever shape she was in, she couldn't linger here and risk being seen in this state. What would people say? What would they say...?

Invasive, lurid thoughts aside, Twilight did her best to pull herself back to her still weak feet. Slipping her slacks back on was a chore, and at several points feeling the fabric against her hot-to-the-touch skin made her hum a dull pleasure. Slipping on her sweater however had her coming out the other end to a surprise: Rarity back before her with a small package in hand. While the fashionista found no trouble meeting her eyes with Twilight's, the amethyst orbs or the shy bookkeeper fled to look at near anything else. "So uh... I guess we'll finish this—"

"Tonight. And do wear this until then, darling... I'll know," Twilight's already warmed skin shivered under the commands of Rarity; such sublime authority did terrible things to her, and she simply nodded a dumb 'uh-huh' in response as the small package was shifted over to her palms.

Rarity tapped her lips against the very corner of Twilight's lips, giggling a charming tone as she indulged in her own blush. Knowing the risk of being spotted in her clearly flustered state, Rarity ushered her dear friend out the secondary doors of her workshop. Outside the mid-morning hustle of the streets was in full effect; milling townsfolk were carrying on their days and sharing their own brief conversations. How many of those people passing by in the streets did something just as entertaining as they had? The town would be a much more enthralling place if they were.

Twilight made her way down the side-stairwell, taking brief glances between the busy streets and Rarity; each step bringing with it a slight bit of her vigor back after the interesting fitting. When she made it to the offshoot of the main road, she offered a dainty wave towards Rarity before she slipped back into her shop. One could wonder if all Rarity's fittings were so entertaining, or if Twilight was just lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.

Twilight saw it as luck, regardless.

Before she could join the thoroughfare of people, she steadied herself with a few slow breathers. Her palms patted at her cheeks, trying to lose those last bits of lingering lust still flushed in her cheeks and wanting in her eyes. Not now, not in public. But maybe tonight...

Tonight. Twilight curiously looked at the box that Rarity slipped in her hands before escorting her out. "Do wear this until then, darling... I'll know" It was an ominous warning, and an odd request. Still, Twilight couldn't deny it at this point. It would just be rude not to follow the instructions of a gift, clearly. The box was simple, a far cry from Rarity's usual fair of elegant ribbons and meticulous wrapping; though it was likely fashioned on a whim after the two's little affair.

The top popped open and Twilight shifted it just enough out of the way to get a good look at what was inside. She thanked herself for doing this off the road and away from prying eyes once the contents were made known to her. While undergarments were not wholly unusual for Rarity to gift Twilight or any of their friends—Rarity took pride in sharing all forms of wares for her friends to enjoy—, but the extra apparatus adorning it brought a shiver to Twilight. A delightful chill at the implication. "I'll know..." The way the vibe curved inward rather than outward told a clear intent for Twilight to follow and endure until tonight.

"Oh boy..."

Luna x Muffins: Secret Tryst-cuit.

Author's Note

Content: FxF, cuddling and smooching, and building of the set! The horror! ...I never said they'd all be risqué. But this one is risky for the context of the series. Good sex and romance takes world building, stakes, and foreplay! You want hardcore pounding, put it in a PM or a comment.

Luna x Muffins: Secret Tryst-cuit.

There is only one proper way to wave. That is to say every one of the million places, circumstances, and obligations has only one specific way to wave right for it. To even ask what the right way is when you already agreed to take part in the matter is frankly audacious. The utter gall would have you tossed out of high-society in an instant; you would be barred from your local little league games, and they'd be in the right to do it.

"What's the right wave"? The cheek...

However, in all fairness, even most high-society members couldn't tell you the right wave if you pressed them on it. Honestly, they only mimic whatever the princesses do when they wave to their adoring public. If the highest royalty in the land is doing it, then it must be the right way. Though it is sometimes strange that both princesses are at times doing vastly different waves or gestures. But surely that's just part of the whole ceremony of it, and their feeble minds simply cannot comprehend the level of high-class aristocracy the princesses possess.

Or—as friends and close confidantes of the royal pair would gladly attest—Celestia took mirthful pleasure in seeing people mimic a gesture insulting in other countries, and Luna was amused by 'lemmings' mirroring movements bereft of meaning. But that was a closely kept secret. For who would marvel at grand aristocracy if they knew those at the top found the whole affair dull?

Perhaps the same kind of person who would happily share a secret with one of those members of 'grand aristocracy'.

The 'waving excuse' was always an excellent card to play. Nobody understood a single thing about what it takes for proper practice, so when Luna would say something along the lines of "the cuff of my wrist grows tired, I must soak it before progressing", her entourage would just take it at face value and hold the proceedings until she returned from soaking her wrist. Even if that meant stopping an entire parade ensemble and cause the city's main road to shut down for longer than projected. One cannot simply continue a parade without its figurehead. This isn't Mount Aris; Equestria had standards!

While putting the town in a temporary deadlock wasn't exactly something Luna took enjoyment in, there was a certain level of catharsis in turning the nodding mob's adoration of her and Celestia's mere existence against them. Not everyone within the city was so enamored by them that they'd wait in the streets for her to return, and those people—ironically—had the princess' utmost respect. Good, free thinking people...

As well as a few choice special cases. One such case was the reason for Luna's whole excuse mid-promenade; spotting that familiar face among the throng of cheering attendees. Their eyes had only briefly met in passing as her parade float shuttled by, but the princess all but demanded one of her attendants that she had need of 'waving maintenance'. The excuse historically could only buy her a few short minutes before a guard would be dispatched to see if she needed help in the bathroom. Then likely a few more if they sent a guard who was too bashful to go into a lady's restroom uninvited.

The quality and requirements to be a guard had greatly diminished over the years. For better and worse. For this purpose, better. Much better. A proper guard would have followed Luna as she slipped into the alleyways to make sure she made it to the restroom. A well-trained servant would notice something was amiss as the princess turned her dress inside out to reveal a reversable secondary design, as well as when she plucked her crown off her head to leave it on top of a trashcan lid. But both Celestia and Luna took painstaking aims to make sure the guards and attendants they had weren't by-the-book well-trained.

Luna preferred her entourage to be good, honest men of upstanding character who would take her word at face value. All the easier to pull one over on them, but still trust in their commitment when the time came for it. Celestia fancied her attendants to be far more of a particular set of skills. Neither one questioned the other on their tastes; it would be unladylike.

The Princess of the Night adjusted herself as she made haste through the backways of the city, ruffling her hair and tousling her 'disguise' just a bit more to give it a few more wrinkles. Twilight was rather understanding and respectfully discreet when she took the request for these reversable dresses to her designer companion. The results spoke for themselves as well. At least in passing, the princess looked like a pauper; from regal midnight hue silks to simple brown cloth. A mystical marvel of craftsmanship the princess would call magic if the seamstress didn't balk at the implication her talent needed magic. It didn't do much for the shimmer in her natural hair, but that hardly mattered when she didn't adopt this disguise for very long.

She checked herself in a passing window's muddled reflection. It was well enough for the limited time she had to do all this. Luna was getting better, more efficient at the whole process, that much was clear. And she certainly had reason enough to perfect the routine: the less time she spent between escaping her current obligations and meeting her companion, the more time they'd have for enjoying one another's company.

What would they do today? It made her practically skip the rest of the way just thinking about it. There was only one place the woman she was looking for would go in this city, and it was not too far off from where the parade was held up. A few narrow turns through the city side-ways brought the princess just outside the desired destination: the local post office.

As expected, not a soul was near the entrance, and peeking through the window revealed the office was utterly vacant aside from one clerk. A wide smile unfamiliar to her attendants sprung to the princess' face. A small bell hung over the office door used to bring a little color to the otherwise humdrum of mail service was nearly sent flying off with the abrupt swing of the door. The clerk woke to attention with wild eyes, flailing her arms defensively in preparation for those nasty mail-thieves her manager warned her about. But, when she saw the semi-tossed mane of shimmering night—a rare trait she only knew one person could possibly have—the clerk began to jump in place with glee.

"Loony!"

"Muffins!" The two cheered the other's name with joy unimaginable. As if it had been a millennium since they were given the joy of even saying it out loud. In an instant, the princess dashed across the small space of the office, throwing her arms wide in bated anticipation. In much the same way, the flaxen haired Muffins vaulted over the counter she was tucked behind, several papers scattering elsewhere and anywhere—it really didn't matter in this moment, Postman's Oath be damned—as she tossed herself open to accept the bounding aristocrat.

Princess Luna was a scant less—or much less—developed than her sister in a few fields she would rather have her teeth pulled over than admit. Smaller, less fit, not as filled out; you would be forgiven for thinking Celestia was physically stronger than her smaller sister. But the way she so easily scooped the postwoman up at her hips—a woman who was a hair taller than the princess herself—and twirl her around, Luna could find the strength for something so important. The two spun in the solitude of the store, safe from prying eyes or curious onlookers. Their hair cascaded around them in streams, of night mingling with fields of fresh wheat; their mirthful laughs at the contact filling the quiet.

While the princess could revel in spinning her companion for hours on end—a request Muffins had voiced on more than one occasion—, she gradually lowered the woman down to her feet, though she did not break contact. Never. Still laughing, they leaned into one another, resting their foreheads softly into the other. The touch was cool for them both, familiar and welcoming.

"How I have missed you so..." The princess was breathless from her feat of strength but her laugh never faded lower than a breathy chuckle as she spoke. She pecked a tender tap at the woman's nose, bringing a deep blush to spread against Muffins' cheeks.

"I saw you were busy, so I thought I'd just go back to—" Luna silenced such madness with a clasp of her lips over the foolish lips of her partner, nearly toppling them both forward in the process.

Brown eyes grew wide with the abruptness of the kiss, but slowly drooped as she melted into it. Her hands tenderly tapped at the princess' hips and 'tummy', still never entirely sure what to do with them when she was flustered. But Luna enjoyed the pawing swipes, she always did. Their lips hummed together, small, kneading flexes from the princess melting away more of Muffins' nerves each time. When the princess did mercifully take herself away, she was nearly brought to another embarrassed fit of laughter when she saw that she had pushed Muffins almost entirely up onto her counter again.

"I shan't ever be too entrapped as to not have time for you, my paramour..." Delicate fingers swam through the flaxen field of her lover's hair, curling into them to brush at her cheek.

"You say the sweetest things, Loony," she didn't understand a word of it, but she'd always go a little weak and giggle when she heard 'my-anything' from the princess. It was nice knowing someone wanted to keep her in some way. Her features drifted to meet Luna's fingers, letting a mewl of a sigh leave her lips as she simply existed in the moment. "Hmm... Do you gotta leave again soon?"

The meetings they had were always pressed for time one way or another, and Luna despised it. To have her every moment put to a stopwatch, to have her all her meetings overseen. What scant moments she could steal away were an oasis like none other, but they would always reveal themselves a mirage and fade away in time. This time, it was the ticking clock of holding up the foot traffic in the city with the parade. Eventually—sooner rather than later—she'd need to return anon. On the other hand...

Her hand caressed the soft contours of the postwoman's cheek and chin, making her flinch at the slight tickle but more than happily rolled into it like a charmed kitten. "Mayhaps I can steal a few more minutes more... As I steal your lips in the process."

"Can't steal what's yours, silly," she booped a finger at the point of the princess' nose, perhaps not fully grasping just how alluring her words were to her.

"Yes... My mistake. Allow me to correct..." Their embrace returned anew, the princess plunging herself fervently against her lover's lips. The postwoman's eyes fluttered shut and submitted herself to the plunder, though still allowed her palms to press and ply where they could against the voracious Luna. Feeble gasps heated the air between the brief moments they slipped away from the other. If some random passerby walked in on the display, it would be a story to tell for generations to come; granted, anyone who saw would likely be placed under some lawful custody.

Still, well worth it. As worth it as leaving a city in deadlock for several hours so you can make out with your girlfriend. That's life: taking risque risks.

"Princess...? Should we send someone to—"

"Sometimes a lady needs an extra few minutes to prepare herself," Princess Celestia waved off the concerns of the guard, "I'm sure your wife has been guilty of going to powder her nose for a moment, then being gone much longer as more and more issues started becoming known." The crowd chattered their curiosities as Celestia continued to lounge back atop her float. She knew her sister was not returning anytime soon. With hope, she would make up for being so tardy by looking beyond disheveled from her 'distraction'.

"I, uh... I don't have a wife, ma'am."

"Really...?" Seems her sister might have to buy time for her sometime soon...

Sunset x Twilight: Working Under Pleasure

Author's Note

Content: Forced public masturbation, risk of getting caught, light humiliation.

Sunset x Twilight: Working Under Pleasure

"Do you know what's worse than Wednesdays?" The question was rhetorical, "Working on a Wednesday."

Twilight only managed a vague 'mhm' in response to her slacking assistant. She watched as Sunset fancied the broom more as a cane to lean on than an actual instrument of cleaning. Not that the bookstore was in dire need of a sweeping; but Twilight found it difficult enough to fabricate jobs to occupy her employees already. Sunset here was a volunteer; though sometimes that fact slipped Twilight's mind. The girl certainly complained like she was working the nine-to-five when she was here.

"Do you know what's worse than working on a Wednesday?" Twilight just slumped her cheek onto her palm, already bored behind her desk without Sunset's harping, "Working an empty store on a Wednesday."

"You know you don't have to volunteer here, right?" Not that Twilight didn't enjoy the company most of the time. The store did get a little lonely when everyone else was sent out on errands. Spike to Canterlot to see if there were any new donations on offer, Starlight off to parts-unknown on some vacation, and Wallflower... Well, she was undoubtedly doing something very important even if Twilight couldn't recall what she said before heading out.

"But I like volunteering for you, Twilight. You're a great sounding board," to show her appreciation—and to maybe persuade Twilight to not kick her out—Sunset gave a token few swipes of the broom against the hardwood floor. Not a puff of dust came up in the process, but that did not stop Sunset from keeping at it.

"Sounding board?" That made Twilight crack at least a subtle smile coupled with Sunset's clear mock-sweeping, "I'm told I'm a sparkling conversationalist. I can be more than just a wall for you to field your bad stand-up o... O-Onn..." Twilight's words drifted off and she began to nestle into her palm a bit more.

Her fingers balled into her cheek as she sucked in her lower lip, nipping her teeth against it as she suppressed something. A groan? A yawn? Did she simply not want to stretch and give away how bored even she was with today? Sunset could see she was struggling—Twilight's arm supporting her at the desk wobbling noticeably while the other was failing to remain still—so maybe that was it. Though, perhaps she was being bothered by that bug that was still loose in here. From the moment Sunset arrived, it had been buzzing around somewhere among the books.

"Hey, Twi, if you're tired or something, I can cover the counter for a bit. Starlight showed me the whole deal, you can trust me," Slacking was well and good, but Twilight was a good and dear friend. If she had to take on the workload for Twilight for one afternoon, it was the least she could do.

"Huh? Oh, no. No need, I'm doing fffuu-ine!" A roller coaster of senses wracked through Twilight as that distant buzzing briefly grew louder before slipping back. Her expression flexed, sucking her lip in with a hiss before quickly releasing it, knowing well that Sunset was looking at her with a steadily growing concern. Even though Twilight couldn't see it herself, she could feel the intense burning spread on her face. The thought of just how flushed her cheeks were and how glassy her eyes might be at that moment only made Twilight more tense... but also unmistakably aroused. The safe cover of the desk was at least some blessing as Sunset couldn't see her legs scraping helplessly against one another as the 'bug' rumbled against her sex.

"You sure? Well... Damn, the least I can do is get rid of that bug. It's driving me crazy. You?" Sunset went to prop her broom up by the front door—there was real work to do now.

The brief reprieve from eyes let Twilight roll her face down against the counter, indulging herself in a free moment to muffle a moan into it and allow her entire form to shudder out her pleasure. Rarity's toy thrummed tirelessly against every inch of Twilight's pussy, batting her swollen clit in the process. Her own sex feebly tried to suck against it, drenching the woman's legs more by the second as she unconsciously demanded more from it. Wherever Rarity was, the clear ebbs of the toy's ferocity showed she was thinking about Twilight. The thought of Rarity at some all important meeting discussing fabric prices or the next line of designs with one finger listlessly shifting the intensity of the toy at whim was oddly intoxicating. A secret taboo that brought her legs to tighten against the gift more right as it edged higher. Twilight's vision grew spotty as another climax shot through her—perhaps the fourth since Sunset arrived unannounced—before whimpering out a groggy response.

"You have no idea..." Normally Spike would take care of the sweeping, but Twilight had a feeling she'd be doing the mopping tonight. After Sunset left, of course. "Bu-uh-ut! It's better to just leave it be. It might be one of Wallflower's aphids that got loose—FUCK!" Sunset nearly jumped out of her skin with Twilight's sharp scream. Twilight clapped her hands over her mouth as the 'buzzing' rose to a near ear-splintering rumble. The librarian's knee kicked up against the desk, desperate to alleviate some manner of displacing the pleasure as the toy burrowed into her all the more, lathering her inner thighs all the while with another of her lewd releases. "I mean...! F-Fuck, those guys just keep getting out! I should really talk to her about keeping them u-under controoool...!" Control was the last thing she had over the situation; a plaything for someone that couldn't even see her.

A million questions came to mind for Sunset as she continued to watch Twilight have a fit. Was she sleeping well? Her eyes looked unfocused. Did she have a fever? Twilight looked like she was burning up and breaking into a sweat. Do aphids even make a sound people can regularly hear? It sounded more like a really upset wasp desperate to sting something. Was Wallflower single? But that wasn't really important right now.

Catching that Sunset was biting her tongue for her benefit, Twilight lowered her shaky hands to rest on the table and adopted a more professional look—or as professional as someone can look as they were being remotely fucked. "I appreciate all your worries, and I love having you here, Sunset. You're a great friend, and I enjoy our little talks even when you don't really do too much around here." A few full sentences without crumbling in on herself despite the toy ravaging against her: pretty solid. "But today's not really the best day to work. Like you said, it's pretty dull and dead today. I honestly wouldn't feel right keeping you here to waste your day on nothing."

"Yeah... I... I guess that's fair," Twilight was an odd one sometimes, but she was also upfront. If she called it a waste, then Sunset really didn't have reason to doubt it. True enough, she could find something better to do with her time; and Twilight wasn't going anywhere. "I'll check back in tomorrow. Get some rest, alright? And tell Wallflower to take better care of her bugs." She wasn't wholly sold on what was going on, but Sunset still tipped an imaginary hat to Twilight as she backed herself out the door.

The two waved each other off the entire while, only stopping once the front door clicked shut. At the satisfying click of the door, Twilight crumbled behind the counter to escape anyone from seeing her through the windows that lined the store. Her palms desperately kneaded at the hidden apparatus rumbling and wrecking her pussy, trying to desperately push its slick, rounded surface against her all the more. Desperate moans filled the vacant store as she was free to just relish in this play. Her rear soaked in the puddle of her excess as she lounged back in the unrivaled pleasure in this experience. Being watched was intoxicating, giving in was awakening, letting sweet profanities slip free of her lips in a place of study was sinfully exciting.

The number of orgasms that escaped her attention grew more and more difficult to count as her mind washed away in pleasure. If this was merely the 'punishment and prep' from Rarity, the thought of what came next was unimaginable. For now, Twilight simply let it ride out against her; though her tormentor couldn't see, she was mush as she rested a feeble shoulder against the base of her desk.

From the window however, the summer haired 'volunteer' did well to peek cautiously in. Sunset couldn't see what happened when Twilight stumbled back behind her counter, but the vague sounds and muddled words did pique her curiosity. "Now what do we got going on here...?" Perhaps for a bit, Sunset would 'volunteer' as a snoop.

Vinyl Scratch x Lemon Zest: Extra Activity

Author's Note

Content: FxF, strap-on fun, cunnilingus, consensual cheating.

Vinyl Scratch x Lemon Zest: Extra Activity

The key to a good relationship is trust, communication, and boundaries. Without these three pillars, a relationship is based on nothing; with even one missing, the other two are liable to crumble in on themselves from the weight. It's a difficult balance to maintain and requires the perfect person who matches you. Some couples make due with a wobbling foundation, but the dream is to find that one person who meets your level of trust, is willing to communicate you on good faith no matter the subject, and respects your boundaries the same way you respect theirs.

That's what everyone wants. The same relationship that Vinyl and Octavia found in each other. Most other partners would be turned away by the frank conversations they have about their relationship. With Vinyl they might understand: she looks like a degenerate with a dirty mind. But if they heard how easily Octavia openly agreed or discussed those same topics in the comfort of their home, they'd probably go slack jawed.

Some time early on in their relationship, the two discussed the topic of a "Pass List". They were both prime, beautiful women at the top of their respective fields, and that opened a lot of doors to a lot of people others might not be so lucky to enjoy. So while they deeply and truly loved one another—promising never to be taken away from the other—they also each made up a list of three people they were each given a "pass" to sleep with if the moment ever presented itself.

The fun little twist was the list needed to be made up of three unique categories: one that had no possible way of happening outside lightning striking them, the other had to be someone only the other could invite the tryst to start with, and the last could be anyone—a free space. They both enjoyed the debaucherous games they played together.

What names filled that list is for only the two of them to know. But as luck had it for one name on that list, it was her turn to come up to bat.

Vinyl walked a lot of circles across all of Equestria. Her music was the highlight of every party that was any-party to be at. Because of that, she came to know a lot of other talented performers that dipped into her kind of high energy, blood pumping, electrifying trade. One lady that fit that to a "T" was Lemon Zest, a newer name on the MC circuit. The two had shared a stage over a few years a few times; flirted a touch behind stage between sets.

"Are you sure? She seems a bit too explosive."

She was, and so was Vinyl. That's why she liked her. When you bundle more fireworks together, you get an even more captivating explosion of sight and sound. Besides, Vinyl was curious what would happen when you put two of a kind together, who would come out on top?

To say Zest was gobsmacked by the question when Vinyl broached it one night backstage was an understatement. Her face steamed like a kettle and she began stroking at the matted state of her electric-green hair; trying to make it less of a mess in the face of a once in a lifetime opportunity. If she had known she was going to get propositioned to fuck a celebrity, she would've put more effort into her style before the show. Of course she agreed and was set to just disregard the whole show entirely to be taken out back and just go at it there and then. But Vinyl was a professional... And she liked playing with her food just a little bit.

"My girl's gonna be working overnight in Canterlot tomorrow... Come on over. Keep the door unlocked for ya'."

It sounded like a sinful proposition. To just go over to this woman's house when her girlfriend was away and have copious amounts of mind-bending sex? Was it right to take part in it? Did it really matter? Vinyl could have told her the whole deal, but the way Zest nearly fainted flush at the idea was too enjoyable. Why spoil the fantasy?

Regardless of how Zest felt about it and the inner conflict in her heart... She still found herself at that door the next day. She still turned the knob, and she eagerly slipped in.

If someone looked in through the window of Vinyl's apartment, they would've seen a real sight. Vinyl craned her head back and allowed herself to thoroughly enjoy the tongue work of Zest on her snatch. The woman was veracious and eager to make this moment worth every second for them both. The matted mess of Zest's neon-green hair tossed and obscured Vinyl's vision of her as she went to business, but the feverish laps of the woman's tongue over her tender folders were more than enough for her.

Zest kept a hand on either of Vinyl's knees, holding Vinyl open as much as keeping Zest herself from not losing her balance. Her laps against the pussy were needy, hungry to delve deeper and enjoy the subtle flexes of Vinyl's sex against her tongue. She tilted her head this way and that, lapping up every flexing nerve of Vinyl's tunnel, savoring the sweet juice that escaped along with every one of Vinyl's groaning sighs. She was so deeply intoxicated in licking and twisting her dexterous muscle against Vinyl's light resistance, she hardly paid any mind as her lover pushed her hair back for a better view.

"Can't imagine how many times I thought about you like this..." Vinyl cooed as she bundled up a bushel of Zest's hair, getting a good enough collection for a nice tug.

Vinyl's juices trailed from Zest's gasping lips as she was torn away from her prize, flinching with a mixed pleased-pain while Vinyl held her at bay by her hair. "How often did you think about eating my pussy?"

"S-So often..." Zest freely admitted, eyes struggling with desire as Vinyl kept giving her enough slack to get just close enough to her prize before firmly reeling her back.

"Wow. That's not too professional, don't you think? Wanting to bury your face in a co-worker's pants..." Vinyl teased, but ultimately showed her true colors by letting the woman go.

Immediately, Zest went back to her new home, nose buried firmly in Vinyl's nub and tongue thirsting across her slit for reward. A reward of taste, sweet and pleasurable that trickled down her chin like a ripe peach. A reward of sound, as Vinyl cried out a sharp note as Zest roused an orgasm from her. Vinyl's legs bucked, linking together over Zest's back to pull her in closer, lock her in for an extended stay. Zest could only breathe in Vinyl's essence—her lust and primal intoxication—and for a time she could think of only living off of it.

The pleasure trickled free from Vinyl and she rolled her shoulders back against the sofa she took momentary rest on. Having someone service her like this—being such an eager lover—was everything she thought it would be. Normally she was the one jumping through Octavia's hoops to please her; and she loved pleasing her Octavia more than anything. But now she could see the appeal Octavia found in it. But there were still a lot of itches to scratch. The cat-faced clock hanging on the wall ticked away at the time... And Octavia wasn't due for quite some time.

Vinyl intended to get this "pass" for all its worth.

"That's enough of that," Vinyl lied—she could've let Lemon Zest eat her out until the sun came out—, she had much more entertaining things to try out on this girl. Her legs unhooked from behind her partner's back before swiftly coming to rest at Zest's shoulders, nudging her away from Vinyl's sex. A desperate whimper came from Zest as she was deprived of her prize, but she looked up all the same to meet Vinyl's eyes. "I'm not a totally selfish lover. It's about time I give you a little fun..."

Before Zest could ask much about what she intended, she found herself firmly pinned with her back to the floor. One of Vinyl's hands kept her quarry tight against the floor by her shoulder while she pulled together something she prepared before their first encounter. Zest swallowed hard as she saw the long, ribbed length of Vinyl's 'toy'; double-sided, but it seemed the more intimidating length was reserved for her as Vinyl plunged the other end into her own pussy. Vinyl hissed with pleasure as the strap-on found its place comfortably in her before she set her sights entirely on Zest.

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out, L.Z.," Vinyl's crass words sent shivers down her partner's spine as she waited with bated breath for what was to come next. The sensation of Vinyl's 'cock' tapping against her own drooling pussy was almost enough to completely knock out her senses, but she kept herself together; she was not going to miss a moment of this.

"Ruin me," Zest spoke back, nibbling down on her lip as she felt the head tapping more deliberately at her slit.

"Nah... I don't wanna ruin you..." Zest's mind nearly shattered as she felt each rippling ridge pop one after the other against her lower-lips—each a sudden jolt forward, followed by a subtle tug back before the next—unable to stop a series of small spasms with each new inch Vinyl plunged in, "...I take care of my toys."

The tantalizing word would've been enough to ease out another spasm from Zest, but instead she made due with her walls flexing tight around the invasive length. Rhythmic pops gradually filled the air with each bottoming plunge Vinyl gave her 'toy'. Her own drooling sex meshed firm against Zest's as it devoured the brunt of Vinyl's 'cock', aided by a few subtle gyrations to let the two lips briefly enjoy their 'kiss' despite the thick girth betwixt them. Second by second, the slow, exploratory plunges became wanton thrusts that echoed their wet slaps of satisfaction soundly.

The object of Vinyl's lust curled beneath her, her unbound chest bobbing with the lustful claps wracking against her cunt. The air grew all the more thick with their joined moans, wholly enraptured in every heated touch they shared, every resounding thrust plunged into Zest. The only reprieve they took was as Vinyl clutched tight to Zest's shoulder and tossed her over, letting the ribbed edges of the strap-on ripple taut all the more against the suckling walls of her partner. The carpet met Zest's face and she indulged in a muffled moan into the fabric while her tight rear was left high and stuffed with Vinyl's attention.

Before she could fully rest herself against the shag carpeting, Zest found herself hoisted back up as Vinyl took each of the woman's wrists into her hands. The newbie-DJ was made to arch her back and prop out her chest as Vinyl held her like a sling, denying her any support of her own. The complete lack of control made Zest's canal latch all the tighter around Vinyl's length, soaking the carpet as her lust dripped freely. Slow, shallow ruts gradually were applied to Zest while Vinyl pulled her back by her arms against her strap-on, arching in her and grinding against reaches Zest had not imagined.

"Vi... This is..." Amazing, everything she could have imagined, addictive. There wasn't a single word Lemon Zest could've managed in that moment; both from a lack of vocabulary, and the slow erosion of her senses brought on the the hot slaps of Vinyl's pussy kissing hers, and the thick rod meshing against her every twitching nerve. Bits of Zest's neon hair clung to her shoulders and face as her skin roiled with pleasure, making a mess of herself along with the labored groans she simply let pour free of her gaping mouth.

The head of Vinyl's rod kissed the deepest corner of Zest's passage, grinding into it with shallow, needy prods. Each flick and retreat scratched at the back of her mind, and her fingers feebly flexed under Vinyl's firm capture of them. She could do nothing but be in this submission to Vinyl; a slit for her to enjoy every way they desired. And Lemon Zest loved it.

"Make sure to cum nice and hard for me, L.Z.," That was not going to be hard at all at this point, Zest was already ready to burst.

The final encouragement she needed to tip her over the peak was given as Vinyl peeled the entire length of her strap out of Zest, leaving her pussy gasping and twitching against the open air; only for each ribbed inch to slide back in with a loud, lurid squelch down to the base. Zest's rear bounced and her chest tightened under the sudden burst of pleasure, for a moment unable to breath as every nerve in her washed with pleasure. When she could finally manage anything at all, it was a croak of a scream as she felt her pussy release its every ounce all across Vinyl's length. Subtle ruts from Vinyl encouraged and eased Zest down the peak, a wicked smile plastered across her face as she felt the other woman go entirely limp in her hands.

As night chases the day, so too do the soft rays of the morning ward away the dwindling night. Hours upon hours had accrued in the modest living room as the small of the morning shimmered through the windows. The space was a mess—a greater mess than Vinyl already kept it—with couch cushions tossed, an ottoman turned over to its side with a freshly cracked leg, and new matted splotches decorating the floor and seating. It really didn't bother the occupants, obviously, much less the owner. Vinyl was too engrossed in her own bliss as she lounged back against her splatter sodden couch. The room reeked of the endless session she just indulged herself in, just the way she liked it.

"Hm... Not bad at all, L.Z... Not even a little lazy..." Vinyl had the constitution of someone three times her muscle-mass, still able to make dumb wordplay even after hours of lovemaking.

Labored suckles languished from Lemon Zest as she rolled her lips up and across the cum lathered length of Vinyl, relishing in her own taste soaked into it. Her cheeks sunk as she slurped her own nectar off it, all but drunk on the pleasure she endured under Vinyl's care. When she did manage to pull herself from the toy, she nodded absently, eyes slits as she continued to soak up the moment. "It was everything I imagined it was gonna be..."

"Really? Huh, I like to beat expectations," Vinyl half joked, "Maybe next time I should pull a little trick outta my hat with a bit of magic a good friend of mine taught me." When Trixie had divulged the matter of the spell to Vinyl after months of pestering her over the matter, she had every expectation it was meant only for Octavia. One wonders how the show-woman would react knowing it would be used on someone else.

The thought couldn't linger for either of them for long as they heard a telltale clatter of a doorknob turning. Zest all but snapped out of her haze as the severity of the situation dawned on her along with the sun. She was naked, sucking off someone's partner in their house! And while that was devilishly hot and turned her on just a little more, that woman was about to walk through the door. Vinyl on the other hand remained perfectly calm as she turned to look at the opening door.

Perhaps she could muster a little strength for a round two, with some help.

Fluttershy: Dial F

Author's Note

Content: descriptions of intimacy. I mean, descriptions of descriptions... It's phone sex, so, it's actually people detailing the sexual activity, but I have to write the sexual activity... Listen, content: phone sex.

Fluttershy: Dial F

"And this will be your cubicle," the woman politely gestured to the sparse workspace.

There wasn't much to it, in all honesty. The computer on the desk was fairly boilerplate—good for the job and not much else—, there was a typical office phone cabled up to the computer, a few notepads and pens neatly arranged for presentation, and a conspicuous towel draped over the roller-chair. The floor was carpeted, so the chair having rolling options didn't seem all that useful. The woman must have spotted Fluttershy's slight issue with the set-up as she quickly cleared her throat for attention.

"Don't worry about the personalizing. Plenty of guys and gals—even part-timers like yourself—decorate their space with mats or posters, some knickknacks..." She peered around the corner to try and get a look at another cubicle down the way, "I think June has a fridge. Gotta keep those electrolytes up, am I right?" She nudged Fluttershy's side, but she wasn't getting much of a reaction.

This wasn't really her scene at all, but Dash was so insistent about at least giving it a try. "You've got a voice made for this" she was told. Even now, she didn't know if that was a compliment or not! Still, the pay was far too much to just simply ignore out of hand without at least humoring a walk-through of the job.

"Listen... I know this job seems a bit... Dirty, shall we say," That was a word for it, "But at the end of the day, it's therapeutic for callers, it's lucrative for the workers, and nobody gets hurt," the lady saddled herself into the chair and picked up the phone, "We keep all locations confidential, all issues catalogued, and we take security very seriously on both ends." That did take some weight off Fluttershy's chest at least, "Again, I'm not ignorant to how phone sex operating looks to most people. But not everyone feels comfortable with digital, there's still a real personal touch to it, and frankly... There's something really sensual about not seeing the person you're getting off to..."

A blush tickled against Fluttershy's features, but she wasn't turned off by the proposal. "I... I suppose one day wouldn't hurt..."

A wide smile broke against the older woman's face. She leapt to her feet and snatched Fluttershy's hands into her own, shaking them with vigor. "Oh, you simply will not regret this choice, you-will-not," before Fluttershy could so much as 'eep' in response, she was spun around and plopped into her roller-chair. "Just remember everything we talked about in orientation, and you'll do great. Log your calls, and don't worry...!" The woman knocked on the side of the cubicle wall a few times with a dull 'thump' responding, "These walls literally absorb sound... So go nuts!"

Now that Fluttershy had some manner of protest, the woman bolted out and away. She huffed a stay pink strand from her face, debating if maybe she should just tap out. The cash for at least hearing the pitch wasn't bad enough in itself. But... Reluctant was her sigh as she fished the headset out from under the desk—covered in slide five of the onboarding—and plugged it into the phone's port. A dull click and low thrum of static filled her ears briefly as she got used to the sensation. Maybe after week one it would be like breathing to her and she just wouldn't even notice it; but for now, it made blood rush to her ears and cheeks burn. Not from the sensation itself, but what it was leading up to.

The manager must have greenlit the cubicle not too long after she left as one dull red light started to glow on the phone's pad. Steadying herself with slow inhales and exhales, Fluttershy primed herself. It was good, honest work... And nobody would know she was even doing this. The detoured route she took to even get here would've left anyone confused; nobody knew she was here, and nobody ever would.

"Alright, Fluttershy... It's time to earn those sweet babies a new feeder," she pumped her fists to her chest in determination before clicking the 'call transfer key'.

"He—"

"EEP!" Her finger clacked against the receiver, ending the call on that note. That could have gone better. It could have also gone worse. Not really, but that was what she told herself as she buried her face in her palms. Her palms clapped a few slaps against her cheeks, reddening them for a different reason. She told herself that she'd at least try; to not shrink away at this. Her critters deserved a new, fully-functioning feeder with every bell-and-whistle, and she wasn't sure about landing a grant this season. This was a quick and easy option. She... Just had to try.

Another call blinked onto her panel, and she hardened herself to meet this challenge. No matter what, she'd put her all into this. With a click, she readied herself.

"Hello there—" She barely got a sentence out before she heard a guttural series of groans and huffs on the other end. Before she could clarify what exactly happened with the gentleman on the other end, the line went dead and a cleared payment appeared on her monitor. "...Huh..." Maybe she did have a voice for this.

Still, it was oddly unsatisfying to have someone just finish that abruptly. It didn't particularly speak to her abilities, as much as it spoke about the other person's state. The orientation did cover the sorts of clients you'd likely come across in the field, and the "hair trigger" was one. They were people that for one reason or another—typically a moment of weakness in the manager's experience—buy the service just to get 'it' out of them. They made up a good number of sales around here, apparently.

Still... Fluttershy reclined in her chair and looked up at the beige ceiling. If she just got clients like that, there'd be no issue at all with this job, right? Easy money—even if the initial charge wasn't all that much—that could add up quickly. So... Why was she disappointed over it? The thought couldn't stay for long as she noticed another light start up. She pulled herself back to attention and clicked the switcher; with any hope, it would go just as easily.

"Hello there..." Fluttershy scanned her screen, "Sir... How are you?"

No grunts, no sharp inhales... This one might be a keeper. "I'm doing pretty good, pretty good... Are you new to this?"

That caught her off-guard and she let a sheepish 'eep' slip from her lips. "O-Oh. Well... How could you tell?" She giggled as her nerves bunched at the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry," the man laughed in response, "I guess I'm just a bit of a regular with that—well your—company, and I guess you just pick up on a few things. Voices, the way people start things out. I guess since I didn't recognize you and you kinda sounded like you were reading off the script, I sorta picked it up," he chuckled a bit again before huffing, "Ehh, I guess that sounds pretty lame now that I say it out loud, doesn't it? 'You don't sound like all the other phone sex girls, and I know all about them'."

Fluttershy couldn't help but chuckle loudly at that. "Hm. When you say it like that, I guess it is a little silly. B-But it also is sort of endearing in a way..." She relaxed in her chair a bit, swiveling half circles one way than the next as one foot guided her sways, "I mean... There's probably a lot of other places you could call or go online to, but you keep your business here. I suppose in a way, that's endearing."

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment. Hard to say no to someone sounding like you," Fluttershy felt a shot of warmth spread against her back and her heart tighten in her chest, "Sometimes you can nail someone just by their voice. And strange as it sounds, you have a model's voice. Soft, sensual, earnest... It's natural, and I like it."

Fluttershy caught herself shallow in her breathing as she listened to the man compliment her. She couldn't just shake it off, so she used it. "My, that's so nice of you to say. I-I'm not a model though. Just an average woman..."

"Huh... Well, then how about you be my personal model for a little 'average' girl... What's an average woman got on right now?" Blood thumped in her ears as she listened to the man's bold insistences and her breathing grew more shallow, more labored.

She was the operator intended for a job, and now she was the one getting hot and bothered. It was arousing in a way to have the script flipped on her... And she wanted to see if she could flip it back. "Hmmm... Let's see..." she offered a sing-song bounce to her words between trilling tones, she intended to play this role well, "I'm wearing a sweater... Don't worry, I've worn out the neckline so much, I can just pop a girl out with ease..." She'd never say something like that under any other circumstances, but... If she was anonymous here...

"Yeah...? Maybe we should both pop something out together..."

"Mmm... I like that idea... I really would like to see what you have to show me..." Fluttershy had no obligation to follow suit with a client, but she still found herself tugging down at the hem of her sweater to test the elastic. With an audible huff of a sigh, one of Fluttershy's mounds rolled free. The air of the cubicle could've been naturally cool, but a tantalizing chill danced over the woman's simmering flesh. "I'm out... Are you, sir?"

"Yeah..." The man's voice was hoarse, subtle huffs escaping him as a telltale sign for Fluttershy.

A cool digit brushed over her exposed tit, rolling across the swollen areola as she listened to him subtly work himself to her. "Yeah...? Can you tell me what you're going to do with it?"

"First I'm going to pull your tits out, then have you use them to stroke my cock off..."

"Oh... That's so naughty... I-I haven't done anything like that before..." It wasn't a lie, but she had seen in done, "When it pops up between my t-tits... Can I kiss it? I want to taste it—you," she played her erect nipple like a harp, plucking it and tuning it with subtle prods, "You must taste wonderful..." Her words were breathy trills amidst her own play.

"I'll do you better... I'll put a hand on the back of your head and feed the entire length down your throat..."

She gasped and touched wriggling fingers to her lips. For a moment she considered it, each digit plucking at the base of her lip while she drifted to imagination. Her finger—the cock—tapping at her lips slowly at first before gradually sliding forward, filling her mouth until... "Mmmm... It's too naughty, sir. I can't do anything like that..." Her words fell slightly muffled as two fingers prodded against her tongue, perhaps enhancing the sensation for her client on the other end.

"I'll take it slow, be gentle..."

"Please... Don't..." An audible slurp went over the line as Fluttershy's lips puckered over her own fingers, lathering her tongue against 'his' length, "I need to learn... I need to know the taste of y... your cock. Please, pound it deep into my head, sir... Melt my mind around your cock only..."

The voice on the other end sounded like a boiling kettle as he hissed in own pleasure. "I'm about to—"

"Not down my throat, sir..." the faux plea was not helped by the subtle pops and suckles Fluttershy offered as she fellated her fingers, "Anywhere else..."

"I'll case myself between your tits and give them a nice cream pie... But you'll have to drink it up after..." He was spent even as he issued his last play-action.

On the other end, Fluttershy was enraptured in the moment. Her fingers splayed her moaning lips, they slid down her exposed mound, her mind fantasized the sensation of warm seed trickling down her cleavage as her fingers slithered down the gap. "Mmmm... Did I... Do well for a first time, sir?" In spite of the lurid air in the cubicle, a shy blush peeked against Fluttershy's visage as the moment died down.

"Yeah... That wasn't half bad. Hope to get you again sometime," with nary a word more, he clicked off the call.

The monitor read off the earnings and stats of the call, but Fluttershy was elsewhere in the moment. She leaned content in her chair and stared at the beige ceiling once more. Beads of saliva marred her chin, and one of her breasts hung loose and free from the pulled hem of her sweater. It was a sight she never thought she'd find herself in. But, it also felt beyond liberating. In a way, this was far better than fulfilling those carnal urges she felt she denied at times with one-night stands. She was here, nearly alone, nobody listening to her, and no 'partner' to know her or find her sometime after.

Maybe she could stick with this part-time job for just a little bit... And by the three lights that had built up amidst her last call, she might be doing it for a little bit longer than a little bit.

"Huh... She did sound a little familiar... Ah well."

Celestia x Guard: Doing Business

Author's Note

Content: FxM, FxF , Exhibitionism, eating cum from another person out of someone.

Celestia x Guard: Doing Business

When it comes to royalty, you have to learn to roll with their quirks. They are a higher echelon than the common people, and they don't share in the same sensibilities as the rabble. The common man drinks water from the tap, a noble drinks water imported from a spring, and a royal has the highest tier of magi conjure the primordial forces of nature to fill a single glass of water. And when they wanted ice? You could not imagine the spell-weaving for that.

The common people can only dream of the regal nature of the royals high up in their castle. Nobles go green with envy imagining what's going on in their castle just up the way along the roads of Canterlot. However, those within the ornate castle—guards, attendants, maids alike—were well aware the fantasy that the people built up was not necessarily the truth. The princesses were powerful, majestic, beautiful... but they were also bored, Laissez-faire at times, and above anything else: human. It was a secret they all had to keep, and they kept it well. No matter what happened, they'd go home at the end of their shifts—be it hours or days—and not tell a single soul how the idolized princesses acted behind closed doors.

They didn't do so just to save the image of the royal family. It was behind closed doors that maids and guards alike come under the sensual attention of one of the princesses... And for some of them with family at home, that was a secret affair that just couldn't get out. Not to mention they all really hoped they would be the one to get pulled aside one afternoon. It was one of the joys of the job.

"...And the Transit Committee moved for another extension to their proposal last quarter..." Luna couldn't fathom why she was even bothering with reading the rest of the motions. The committees, task forces, and coalitions would put such fine work into creating these neat lists of requests and petitions for she and Celestia to sign off on—a formality—, and Luna was always the only one to at least care about the process.

She stood in their shared throne room, petition in a gripped hand, raised high to save her from the continued displays of her sister. While Luna stood far at the foot of the promenade leading to their shared thrones, Celestia occupied her seat with her engrossed company. The Princess of the Night did her best to not show any signs of disgust or embarrassment, knowing that would only encourage her sister's flagrant disregard of customs. Even still, the sordid squelches that emanated from the throne as her sister—Princess of the Morning Sun, highest arbiter of Equestria—pleasured herself on the engorged cock of one of her guards was hardly something she could just pretend to not hear.

All the worse were the lurid sighs that drifted into haughty laughs Celestia let spill from her lips with each resounding clap of her hips into 'the throne'. "Were those the only petitions we received, sister?" Celestia asked, wholly innocent of any wrongdoing as she loudly hilted her partner into her quivering canal.

Both Luna and Celestia's paramour groaned for vastly different reasons. The slapping, rhythmic claps that echoed through the throne room as Celestia's slit devoured upon the young soldier's rod only escalated, egged on all the more in a clear bid to perturb the younger princess. One of them had to be the professional here, and Luna hardened herself as she focused on the petitions. "No, dear sister, there are quite a bit more..." She strained on each word, trying with all her might to ignore the escalating, guttural groans from her sister's lover resisting every urge to paint the Sun Princess' caverns white, "But... You know what? I can just simply... Sign the seals for them myself," Luna relented and rolled the paper up, accepting that without it she would have to see the whole display, but at least she could leave sooner rather than later.

The princesses had always shared in many of their more private matters. While the whole of Equestria continued to see them as paragons of a bygone era and rich with wisdom, they could always take comfort that the other saw them as who they really were. There was little ceremony between them, and they were allowed to let their guises down when it was just them—when they were in their own castle. They took comfort in one another's candor and confidence. Still, that openness did come with some downsides on occasion.

Luna likely gave Celestia the exact expression she wanted when she looked up to the display. Luna was flushed beyond belief, and her expression smacked of discontent, even if she couldn't quite voice it amidst her sister's 'enjoyment'. The throne gifted to them by the people—for they and they alone to sit upon—was occupied by the struggling mess of one of Celestia's chosen guard, full mast, with his princess effortlessly squatting to meet him. Celestia was sure to pull her gown aside so her sister could see the unobstructed view of the man's cock arching its way in and out of her with each bouncing stride she offered him. The mix of their lust squelched and sputtered against the throne and carpet below, clear globs of the man's release trickling out of the princess' shameless sex.

"Are you certain, Luna? You know how much I enjoy tending to our public," despite the circumstances, Celestia's cadence didn't break. She spoke to Luna clearly and free of her lustful huffs or erotic coos, even as she would slap her full rear down against the man's pelvis and let the wet 'plaps' of cunt echo in the room. She was remarkably good at keeping a poker face in moments like this; born from years of practice taunting her sister with displays just like this.

"Yes, I'm sure. You seem... Quite occupied tending to our public as is," it was only when Luna opted to speak up that the languishing moans from her sister would resume, as she expected. There was no point in arguing with her or trying to shame her, it never stuck. Still, Luna bit her lip before offering at least something of a scold, "You know, sister, the throne is a seat of power. It is a gift to only be used by those of royal lineage."

The guard struggled back several gritting moans as the princess continued to use him for her own pleasure—not that he was complaining. His hands came to rest on the full, untouchable curves of the royal princess, helping himself to a few thrusts into the intoxicating embrace of Celestia's pussy. Her form bounced, nearly tossing her cloaked breasts free of their slight coverage, but more over sending the princess into a euphoric howl of pleasure as she was hit home. "Mmm... Yes... Power, sister. Where I sit is -very- powerful indeed..." Luna's ears burned at the response, watching as her sister rolled her hips back to swallow more of the man's meat, "The throne means nothing without the people, Luna. Shouldn't they indulge in it from time to time?"

Pointless to the last letter. The Princess of the Night raised a finger in objection, opened her mouth to speak, but only half-formed letters came out before she simply growled and stormed off. The great hall doors were swung open for the marching princess by two maids looking all but completely stunned silent by the continued escapade. The throne room continued to echo with the vigorous claps and squelching pops of the lovemaking until the door slid close behind Luna. Almost immediately, Celestia's expression dropped, and her bounces upon her servants dick abruptly ended.

The fun was simply not there without Luna's disapproval or the taboo of the moment. With little effort, she popped herself free from the guard, leaving him utterly spent as his shaft fell limp to his lap. Celestia stood with a slight wobble, the cool-warmth of seed and nectar trickling down her leg from her gasping sex. "You," she called to one of the maids minding the door as she settled in to sitting on Luna's throne instead, as hers was going to be occupied for some time.

The two maids looked between each other, faces all blushes and fingers knitted uncertain. Only one could have the honor; but before they could play rock-paper-scissors for it, one tore away and ran to meet her mistress' call, leaving the other to sulk and watch from the door. Celestia stretched back into the slightly smaller throne of her sister, letting her legs splay wide to greet the eager maid. They did not need to exchange words for the servant to know exactly what she was called for, as immediately the maid went to her knees before her princess.

The sweltering, cum stuffed pussy of the princess greeted the young maid, and she swallowed anxiously. It was an honor, and a pleasure to be chosen, and she didn't waste a moment before delving her. Celestia craned her neck back as soft coos slipped from her lips when she felt the nimble tongue of her maid start cleaning her pussy. Slight, subtle rivets in and against the twitching petals of the princess were given by the maid, lapping up the guard's excessive cum from her. Each lurid swallow made Celestia purr all the more, rewarding the diligent maid with loving strokes through her hair as she continued to 'clean' her.

Such was the cycle for the princess of the day. A regal, elegant leader to the public; and a salacious, lustful mistress behind her own castle doors. She loved it so...

And the workers were never one to complain.

Gloriosa Daisy x Filthy Rich: Under The Table Insurance

Author's Note

Contains: MxF, Humiliation, Oral sex, DubCon, cheating.

Gloriosa Daisy x Filthy Rich: Under The Table Insurance

"Now you know your mother can be... difficult from time to time, but I would never go so far as to say that about her," the matron of the Rich family was many things, but her husband would be damned if he let their daughter think she didn't love them.

On the other side of the desk, Diamond Tiara looked far from convinced. She had hazarded the chance to go into her daddy's office to voice her concerns about how she felt her mother was being so distant lately. Still, she only got the same tired excuses. "She would've come, but..." and "you know she doesn't think that..."; well, if she knew, she wouldn't keep bringing it up, would she?

Still... her daddy would never steer her wrong. Even when she broke the rule about coming into his private office to vent, he didn't twitch a single frown at seeing her. "Well... Okay, daddy..." Diamond Tiara huffed, though she still kept her arms crossed.

"She's just been busy with her own work these days. We both do our very best to keep you in the life you so richly deserve," Mr. Rich labored on the point just so his darling daughter could fully understand, "At times it can keep us far away from you and out across all of Equestria for so long. But, that's why I have this office space, so I can try and keep my important business right here at home. So, I don't have to go too far from you, darling-dear."

The flattery was enough to make Diamond Tiara's ears to flitter and flush. Her arms dropped from their cross and she simply clasped them in embarrassment; her dad always knew just what to say to get on her best-side. And true enough to his word, he's been working from home more and more each day. While he did stay in his office more often, it was a comfort to Diamond Tiara enough to know the house wasn't empty.

For now, she was satisfied with the placates she received, and she ushered herself out of the office. As she rounded the door with a skip in her step, her father raised an objecting hand and uttered a small call to attention. "Door closed, dear. And remember to knock next time. Your daddy's not the young buck he used to be. You almost gave him a fright," his little girl tittered a bit at her own brazen actions moments ago.

True to following her daddy's words, she slipped the thick office door shut behind her with a resounding click. Mr. Rich continued to watch with the same relaxed smile all the while from his daughter leaving, to the door securely closing behind her. The minute shift from adoring father to relaxed enjoyment would be almost unnoticeable to most, but to the two remaining people in the office, it was clear as day. Rich settled back in his chair, letting the briefest of indulged sighs pass his lips before looking down into the small alcove beneath the desk. A spot usually reserved for a chair to be securely tucked away into or for ones legs to slip comfortably rest in was instead occupied by a redheaded young woman. Freckled features looked up to the business magnate, fury in her emerald eyes, even as her peach lips were wrapped around the man's engorged member.

"That was near to too close, don't you think?" The man's voice—just moments ago kind and warm when speaking with his daughter—smacked of mockery as he looked down at Gloriosa, "The way you were slobbering on my cock, I thought she was liable to hear your hungry slurps."

Gloriosa could only hum her discontent at that, subsequently rumbling her plush lips across the thick of the man's member. Sure enough, amidst her disapproving grumbles, slick strands of saliva slithered down her chin and across the warm piece of meat throbbing in her maw; which were all audibly slurped up, followed only by a muffled groan. Filthy Rich rested his head back, giving a token press of his hips forward to feed into the sweltering warmth of this indignant camp councilor's mouth. The flat of her tongue tentatively rolled against the turgent underside of the musky meat, electing a few reluctant groans from the woman.

"Part of me was convinced you would just stop until she left. But you just kept going. Sometimes I wonder if you do this just to save your precious camp, or if you just really love being my personal whore," all the while he rattled off his taunts, he came to rest a firm palm on the back of Gloriosa's head, urging her all the more onto his thick member.

It was all part of the song and dance. They both knew it, and only Mr. Rich openly found pleasure in. Lips pressed tight around the circumference of the cock, summoning a loud, lurid squelch before she popped her head back. While Mr. Rich flinched from the pleasure, he could only bring himself to smirk as he looked down at the streaming strands of saliva connecting Gloriosa's 'cock-warmers' to her favorite treat. The strands broke one by one, tapping wet against Gloriosa's hanging jaw as she tried to catch her breath.

"I... like pleasuring your cock, Mr. Rich... It's all I think about at work. The work you let me keep... Because I am a good little whore..." The words flowed like recited script—dull and lifeless—but it meant little difference to Filthy. It was the fact she had to carry on with it each and every time they met like this that made it enjoyable. Even if she didn't mean it, degrading herself like that before latching her lips back upon his cock was pleasure in itself.

But that pleasure paled in comparison to the actual deed itself. He had explored her every inch through their time as business associates, ever since her camp started to go under. She was reluctant at first, but just as she did now with slobbering on his cock like her life depended on it, she eventually relented. The tip of her nose brushing against his crotch coupled with the subtle croaks from her throat as the head scraped against her deepest depths drove the man wild. He slumped back in his chair, reveling in the feeling of Gloriosa deepthroating him; all the better with the fury in her eyes watering from the strain of choking down the mass.

Beside herself amidst the humiliating treatment, Gloriosa found her own fingers prodding at the damp patch building between her legs. She hated doing this, it was degrading, demeaning, and dirty... But his scent pressed against her nose, the heat throbbing between her legs, and the taste slapping against every stretch of her mouth made her own body quiver. While she despised it, she could at least find some pleasure amidst it as she raked fingers against the curve of her own crotch. Her fingers rolled all the more feverishly as she felt that warmth build in her mouth; a warmth she invited with practiced rolls of her tongue along the invited mass.

As Gloriosa let her eyes slip shut, indulging in the feeling for just a moment, her partner grunted his final approval and gave her what she was working for. Globs of salty warmth pooled against Gloriosa's tongue and into the crevasses of her inner-cheeks in hearty doses. With each gout, Mr. Rich's member slacked all the more in the grip of Gloriosa's mouth. It was to be a long walk to anywhere she could clean herself up—forbidden to use anything in the Rich household to do so except that one time—so Gloriosa swallowed each and every offering to the last.

When the cock slipped free of her bind, her features were red from experience, and her cheeks were plump from the offering. She churned the swill around in her mouth, letting it slip across her tongue as she tried to work it all down and not cough up on it. For his own part, Mr. Rich scooted himself back in his chair, wordlessly letting his business partner leave when she finished enjoying his cum. The man watched with smug pleasure as the proud flower-child stumbled to her feet, noting the dampness staining the crotch of her pants.

Neither one had to say it as they met each other's eyes. Same time next week.

Gloriosa huffed in annoyance at just how comfortable her 'partner' looked with his saliva slick rod still left to hang free between his legs. Not like she could say anything to get the upper-hand on him, she stormed her way out of his office, lips tight with disdain. When she swung the door open, Gloriosa moved to step pass Diamond Tiara; the two sharing a curious look. For once, Gloriosa felt a heat rush against her features and she quickened her pace to leave the manor, knowing all too well the path out. Diamond Tiara on the other hand remained... puzzled. When did someone go into her daddy's office? And why was milk trickling out of the corner of that lady's lip?

Click went the receive call button on Gloriosa's phone, and she brought it close to hear those sweet tones. They filled her with such warmth, and comfort... Even if hearing them now of all times—leaving that building behind—gave her pangs of guilt. "Vign, it's so great to hear you—hear from you! I-I'm sorry, I'm just running a little late for our date... I'll be there in just a little bit... Vign, stop, you're going to make me—Mmm... You're so sweet... Right... I love you, too..."

Trixie: Self Improvement.

Author's Note

Content: Masturbation. Self-love. Autosexuality. Dirty talk.

Trixie: Self Improvement.

"Love yourself first and everything else falls into line". The words may change, but the sentiment is well known and well believed. That being before you can love someone else or expect someone to love you, you first need to learn to love the person in the mirror. If the eyes that meet you in your reflection fills you with revulsion, then how can you expect anyone else to find the company enjoyable? You spend the most time with yourself. If you don't like yourself, who can?

To love oneself takes different amounts of time for different people. Some are labored with false images placed them by spiteful individuals unsatisfied with themselves and pass that hate onto another. Others are built in such a way that their perception is not as clear as another, and they struggle to see the same person they are in their own reflection. While at the same time, there are a fair amount who simply take that hurdle as simple as walking. For them, to love themselves is only natural, or their burdens are elsewhere beyond self-reflection.

Then there are others who truly, passionately love themselves. Those who look upon the person in the mirror and are smitten. The very few who do not worry a moment if others come to love them, because—quite simply—nobody could ever love them more than they love themselves. There are many words for people like this, most commonly narcissists. But even that word cannot totally cover the more specific cases.

"You... A perfect..." The silvery vixen who met Trixie's gaze reciprocated the compliment with equal lustful enthusiasm.

The two moved in mirrored sync for they and they alone to enjoy. Trixie would have it no other way, of course. The full body vanity mirror lived up to its namesake; its frame a gateway to Trixie's one true muse and paramour. Legs splayed before the reflection, she felt her heart race as the silver-haired match did the exact same. The puffy slick of their equally aroused slits made Trixie nip at her bottom lip.

She was divine. The cascade of her hair cushioning her head as she rolled herself back into it as she continued to indulge in her own reflection was divine. The thick, creamy warmth of her thighs opening wide to tease her mirrored-match was divine. How her lust slick fingers strummed across her quivering slit, peeling petals apart with two eager fingers so they both could relish the sight of the gasping bloom of her wantful canal was...

"Divine... You are simply divine..." Trixie croaked out between husky, labored gasps.

Each shuddering huff was accented by the lurid slap and squelch of her fingers delving into the yearning pot. She stirred herself with subtle flexes, urged on all the more as she glanced her reflection's eager refrain. Her lips pressed between blushing cheeks, slipping from eager moans into teasing giggles.

"They love you so much, Trixie... But nobody knows how to make you feel this... Good..." She taunted the vixen in the mirror, the only woman who could hold a candle to her God-given beauty. Her every word was escalated with sharp inhales as her fingers pumped her sopping slit, letting small trickles of her lust dot the floor beneath her.

The illusionist's head rolled back, jaw dropping as she rode the blissful line. Still, she craned her neck to relish in watching the other her spasm in their joined carnal pleasure. "Yeah... Only the Great and Powerful Trixie can make you feel this amazing, right?" Petals quivered and drooled at those words, making Trixie all the more pleased with herself, "All those fans want to do such naughty things to you, don't they?"

The reflection nodded; eyes barely able to focus on the object of her lustful admiration. The inner line of Trixie's thighs were glistening from the spasming enjoyment, yet her pussy did not yield yet. Trixie wouldn't allow her to... She relished in watching the pained pleasure held in those eyes. Harsh, haughty amethysts twisted into bated lust; of eager obedience to have that grand finale. A look her fans would adore to see... But no.

Only Trixie was privy to such a blessing.

"They want to ram themselves inside this needy little thing..." A palm slapped just above Trixie's stuffed slit, making the lingering nectar decorating there to lightly splash and echo. "Bury their tongues... their lips... their cocks... So far into it..." Her words were a purr, electing several sopping pumps against her spasming walls. Her dexterous fingers were suckled by her own starved walls, inviting her to set her fingers to swim against the warmth and lust. "Mmmmmhm-hm-hm... But only your fingers are good enough... To make me... Fff-!"

Trixie's teasing fell to shambles as fingers began to enthusiastically roll in and across her every quivering nerve. She tossed her head back into the silver-strand pool of her own hair, writhing against it as she felt her pussy be thoroughly punished. She knew every note to hit... Every wave to ride... Her words fell into desperate moans and helpless gasps as she was brought hurdling towards that blissful edge.

The grand finale. A few lustful droplets cascaded towards the other, their joined pleasure clashing against the silver barrier that blocked them from truly joining. As nectar trickled down across the surface of the mirror, Trixie remained put upon the ground. Both had their chests rising and falling with great effort, so deeply involved in their coupling, just as every time before. Trixie's expression was blissful in its peace, despite how sore her legs and pussy were in that moment. Artists suffered for their art... And there was no greater art than self-expression.

With fingers laced in her love, she ran them smooth across her heaving bust, rolling the slick fingers across her swollen peaks with a satisfied coo. "Trixie Lulamoon..." She breathlessly croaked between her blissful smirks, "You never fail to disappoint..."

They joined in their mutual admiration for one another before simply lounging together there on the floor. Any shows could wait... And fans could be left to ponder where she was... For now, Trixie simply desired to relish and bask in this moment with her one true love.