A literary hypothesis about doin' it

Rarity looked like a statue out of a neoclassical art gallery.

The important distinction, as any artist could tell, was in the pose; any amateur could pick up a hammer and chisel and replicate a face, a body, even a set of details. But the sort of masterwork that even a filly could tell was a masterwork didn’t simply exist in its world, it lived and breathed in it. A hoof draped gently over a shoulder didn’t look like one pillar supporting another, but like the gentle touch of a fair maiden on the thews of a mighty farmer. A filly wasn’t simply carved on top of their mother’s legs, but supported in the crooks of their elbows, buried into their mother’s tender flesh as if seeking solace from the uncertainty of the outside world. And so it went.

Rarity could have fit right in. Her coat was white and smooth as marble, but there was more to it than that; the way she’d delicately arranged herself on her bed was like the magnum opus of a sculptor rendered supine. The sun caught every detail of every curl in her mane, draping it in an aureole halo that contrasted with the smoldering desire of her eyelashes as saintly love contrasts with sinful lust. Her forelegs caressed her body in an admixture of tenderness and desire, while the gap in her hindlegs and the parting of her tail revealed just enough of her-

“Mmm. No, this won’t do” Trenderhoof concluded, scratching out something in his notebook.

The living, breathing work of neoclassical art blinked. “Pardon?”

Trenderhoof scribbled in something else and lifted his head, his eyes meeting Rarity’s through his spectacles. “As a representation of Manehattan aesthetics, your “Small Town Eros” performance art piece would fit in well with the local climate, name notwithstanding. But as a Ponyville affair, it feels…tepid.”

Rarity felt her heart break yet again. “The tepid that comes before something’s hot?”

“The tepid that comes once something’s cooled down into lukewarm.” Trenderhoof coughed awkwardly and stirred in Rarity’s good chair. “I appreciate your interest in contributing to my upcoming article on Small Town Chic, but when you said your art piece was going to be sensual I’d assumed something different.”

“Oh? What do you mean, dear?”

“I mean evocative of the senses. Of small town feelings. Of natural affairs.” Trenderhoof sighed happily, a slight, blissful smile creeping onto his face as he looked out a nearby window. “Of grass under hooves, the warmth of the sun, the rustle of leaves—”

“Of apple trees” Rarity deadpanned.

Trenderhoof blushed faintly as he looked back at Rarity. “N-not necessarily.”

“Of the work ethic of earth ponies. Of the variety of apples.”

“Well…”

“Of taking the mundane, the simple and the unappreciated and making it relatable.”

Trenderhoof started to smile again. “That’s what I meant, y—”

“For Celestia’s sake!” Rarity snapped, rolling out of bed and landing on the floor with a heavy thump. “Did you remember nothing from your visit to our Ponyville Days festival?”

“Of course I did.” Trenderhoof straightened up and tucked his pencil behind his ear. “Trying to change yourself to impress somepony else will only succeed in making you look like a fool and driving other ponies away.”

“So…” Rarity made an impatient gesture with her hoof.

“So, uh…” Trenderhoof coughed, looking confused. “That’s why I…switched back to my sweater?”

It was at that moment Rarity realized that, for all his acuity over cultural affairs, informing Trenderhoof about affairs of the heart would require an indelicate touch. With a huff, Rarity stormed over, grabbed Trenderhoof’s notebook with her hoof and slapped it down onto her good chair’s foreleg rest.

Trenderhoof’s eyes widened. “What—”

Rarity kissed him.

It wasn’t a brief lip-to-lip press; simple as he was, the pony she had loved since the beginning of time deserved more than a simple kiss. No, it was a true, full-bodied storybook affair, complete with tongue, closed eyelids and a maidenly moan. Rarity held it for just enough seconds to feel little hearts blossom in the air around her, long enough for her to practically feel the roses blooming around the border of an intangible frame, before coming up for air again.

Trenderhoof looked like he had been hit by a wagon. Graciously, Rarity waited for the gears in his brain to correctly process having been so thoroughly romanced, and allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk when he…

…reached over and picked up his notebook again?

“Doubling…down…on…inorganic…motifs.” Trenderhoof mouthed as he sat down, grabbed the pencil behind his ear and started writing again.

“I beg your pardon?” Rarity sputtered. “Are you saying my passion is…is inorganic?”

“Oh, no, not your emotions! They seem absolutely valid and real, and trust me, I'm quite flattered.” Trenderhoof chuckled nervously. “I just meant in terms of this scenario—”

“Disregarding the fact that you bought into my silly little bit of theatre to convince you to come down and visit me again so I could seduce! You! Properly!” Rarity fumed, jabbing Trenderhoof in his argyle-covered chest for emphasis. “I fail to see what would be the correct way to establish a romantic atmosphere!”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘bought into—’ ”

“Just answer the question!” Rarity snapped, trying to mentally will herself to remain indignant so she wouldn’t undercut her point by desperately kissing him again.

“Um. Ah.” Trenderhoof scratched his mane. “You know, I’m rather supposed to be the interrogatory one in interpony affairs. It feels rather strange to be on the defensive—”

“Trust me, dear” Rarity replied, fighting in vain to keep the smolder out of her hungry eyes. Damn his glasses, they made even his gullibility look suave. “You’ve no idea how much ‘on the offensive’ I can be when I feel properly offended. Now, I am a very romantic mare who has wined, dined and connived her way into having an open opportunity to demonstrate my affections to you, and if you’re not going to do me the favor of treating me like a storybook princess then it would behoove you to offer me an explanation as to why.”

Trenderhoof looked from one side to another, as if hoping that an escape exit would miraculously make itself apparent at that moment. When salvation failed to reveal itself, Trenderhoof sat up slightly and tried to feign an analytical look. “Well…given the town’s location and ambiance, geographically speaking, I’d say that a more appropriate atmosphere would invoke, hmm…”

Trenderhoof scribbled something on his notebook, tapped his chin with his pencil, then looked up again at a mare who was three syllables away from flipping her lid.

“Simpler ways?”

“What.”

“Yes! Simple love, simple romance, simple attraction. Simple ways!” Trenderhoof beamed, clearly satisfied by his own deduction. “Spontaneous kisses! Impulsive love! Unplanned and unrehearsed companionship!”

“Prove it.”

Trenderhoof stared at Rarity. Rarity blinked, well aware of the blush flourishing on her cheeks, inwardly furious that her lustful body was betraying her silver tongue at this critical moment. Damn the whole concept of crushes, they were making a fool of her.

“And how would I, uh…prove it?” Trenderhoof responded, looking confused and blushing in return.

“Well, I can’t very well know what a spontaneous kiss feels like without experiencing it on my own, can I?” Rarity booped Trenderhoof’s horn. “And if you’re going to write articles for an audience, educating an audience on the affairs you’re writing about is important if you’re planning on writing for anypony besides yourself—”

Trenderhoof’s lips met hers. Rarity’s objections, indignation and sense of self deleted themselves from her memory for a few seconds. It wasn’t a masterful kiss by any stretch of the imagination, nor was it trying to be; the warm press of tender lips, the slight weight of Trenderhoof shifting closer, the lazy, unpracticed graze of his tongue over her teeth for a moment or two — it was all too impulsive to be anything but the sort of kiss sweet, simple ponies might share with each other.

Rarity hated it. She didn’t want it to end, ever, because that would entail Trenderhoof breaking the kiss. Honestly, she’d much rather have Trenderhoof ramming his thesis deep inside her textbook right now, metaphorically speaking, but—

Trenderhoof pulled away.

“That,” Trenderhoof huffed, “was a spontaneous kiss.”

Rarity blinked. “I see.”

“Wait, that was a kiss. That…wow. Blimey.” Trenderhoof rubbed his lips, looking surprised. “I kissed a mare, just like that. That…that felt pretty good.”

Rarity sputtered. “Does it…does it normally not?”

“Well, not like that. Not good in a spontaneous way. That was…refreshing!” Trenderhoof beamed. “Wow, kissing a mare just like that! Out of the blue!”

“And you…” Rarity couldn’t decide whether she wanted to kiss Trenderhoof again or whallop him with one of her mannequins for having an opinion so fundamentally wrong. “You prefer to be kissed like that.”

Trenderhoof looked pensive, then leaned in and smooched Rarity again. Once again, Rarity’s rage fizzled out until he pulled away again.

“Yes!” Trenderhoof replied. “Yes, that’s the perfect way to kiss in someplace like Ponyville! I’m sure of it!”

“I don’t believe it” Rarity replied.

“I…I’m sorry? I don’t know what you—”

“Fine. You want impulse? Have at it.”

Before Trenderhoof could open his dumb, handsome mouth again, Rarity did the least sexual thing she could think of and hit Trenderhoof with a flying tackle. Trenderhoof made a noise like a squeaky toy as Rarity knocked the air clean out of him, pinning the stallion to the floor and mashing her face against his like a timberwolf going in for the kill. And in a sense, Rarity was going in for the kill, because she was going to smother his faux-agrarian fetish and get him to see reason about sexual fantasies or die trying.

Greedily, her mouth met his. Her hindlegs got tangled up in Trenderhoof’s hindlegs as her forelegs pinned him to the floor, grinding her torso against his as she bore down on him without restraint or remorse. She felt Trenderhoof’s muscles tense beneath her, either struggling or trying to reciprocate her erotic aggression, but she refused to give ground. Even as her face flushed, even as a moan forced its way out of her lips, even as shivers ran involuntarily up and down her spine, even as she shifted her weight and felt the discomfort of having something dig up against her thigh—

“Oh, come on!” Rarity sputtered, pulling away and glancing down between Trenderhoof’s legs. “There wasn’t a shred of courtliness in that demonstration, you can’t seriously be—”

Rarity’s jaw dropped.

“Oh wow.” Trenderhoof moaned, staring blissfully up at the ceiling, glasses askew.

“Oh wow is right.” Rarity mumbled, before looking up at Trenderhoof’s face again and jabbing a hoof down below his midsection. “There is no way that on top of being gorgeous, charming and endearingly stupid, you also happen to be hung like a fucking zebra.”

Trenderhoof curled his body up a bit, curiously inspecting his own erection. “Huh. It normally doesn’t get that big.”

“I swear to Celestia, Trenderhoof, if you’re telling me you’ve literally never had an erection before—”

“Of course I have!” Trenderhoof replied indignantly. “But it’s literally never been this engorged before. I feel like this is the first time I’ve been properly erect in my entire life.”

“Oh.” Rarity’s blush fully encompassed her face before she could will herself to feel properly indignant again. “W-well, I’m flattered, but…but still! This proves nothing—”

“No, it does! I totally get it! My theories are right!” Trenderhoof pushed Rarity off, rising up on all fours even as she hit the floor with an ungainly thump. “ ‘Simple Ways’ is absolutely the proper erotic technique for a place like Ponyville!”

“To you, perhaps.” Rarity laid there, hind legs relaxed, involuntarily baring her pussy to Trenderhoof. Not that she cared. Privacy could wait, somepony had a wrong opinion that needed correcting and that was more important than anything else at the moment. “But more traditionally romantic trappings are absolutely necessary for a proper love making experience.”

Trenderhoof eyed her, glasses askew, mane thoroughly ruffled, cock engorged and stiff. The angle at which it pointed, and the rather short distance between the two of them, did not go unnoticed by Rarity.

“No, really! Here, let me…aheh…demonstrate.” Trenderhoof chuckled, a certain lustful hunger creeping into his voice. Rarity lay there as he clambered on top of her, angling himself for entry. The nerve. Doing it on the floor like this, not after a thoroughly romantic evening but on the spur of a sexually charged moment, just so…so spontaneously, it was completely crude and—

“Oh, fuck me.” Rarity mumbled as Trenderhoof began to squeeze his way inside.

She felt full. Fuller than she imagined it was possible for her to feel with a stallion. Not even filthy little fantasies about Big Mac could have prepared herself for this, for the way Trenderhoof panted as he forced his way inside her body, stretching her hindlegs apart involuntarily as he forced her pussy wider, wider, wider. There was so much cock trying to force its way in her all at once, and if it didn’t feel so unimaginably good then Rarity might have worried about something tearing on the inside.

But right now, all she wanted was to get lost in the feeling. She wanted Trenderhoof to fill her fit to bursting, to rut, to fuck her openly here on the floor, damn the consequences, damn any potential witnesses, damn everything. She needed Trenderhoof to pound away at her until her muscles turned to mush and her pussy gushed itself dry, to leave her dry and helpless and utterly obliterated with desire, and if it meant leaving herself completely helpless to his way of doing things then it would be worth it.

Well, almost helpless.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…” Rarity moaned, twitching as Trenderhoof stretched her torturously exhilarating inch by torturously exhilarating inch. “Oh, fuck, oh, keep doing this, Trenderhoof, go deeper, I’m begging you, deeper…”

Trenderhoof grunted in assent. As if struggling to get himself in any further, Trenderhoof wriggled back a bit, then pushed in again. Back, thrust, back, thrust, using the momentum of his pounding to work his way deeper and deeper into Rarity’s unprepared cooch. “Ohh, Rarity, this is the best. Just here, now, no restraint, fucking like we please…”

Rarity tried to contract her muscles and squeeze teasingly around Trenderhoof’s cock. She might as well have been trying to crumple a steel pipe with kegels alone. “I-I’m not sure, T…ohhhh, Trenderhoof…It wouldn’t be worse with a bit of traditional romance, would it…?”

A sharp pain rocked through Rarity’s figure as Trenderhoof forced the whole medial ring through at once, then kept digging, filling Rarity like she hadn’t thought it was possible to be filled. “Hfff. Earnestness.”

“Tenderness,” Rarity replied, voice shaking. She couldn’t muster more than a word of rebuke, now, not with Trenderhoof beating away at her harder and harder, faster and faster, blowing out her vocabulary as sure as Rarity’s upcoming orgasm would likely blow out her mind.

“Simplicity.” Trenderhoof grunted, every thrust sending a jolt through Rarity’s body.

Rarity felt her innards beginning to spasm, preparing her for the orgasm of her life. “Scenery.”

Trenderhoof’s cock began to throb deep inside her, independent of his violent thrusts. “Fucking.”

Rarity fought to articulate a response between delighted gasps. “Lovemaking!”

“Need!”

“Desire!”

Rarity and Trenderhoof’s mouths opened in tandem. “PASSIO—”

Both of their replies were cut off in mutual orgasm.

If Trenderhoof was making some sort of embarrassing coital grunt, Rarity couldn’t hear it. Her shriek of delight was drowning out anything else, body spasming and twisting as she came, came hard, came all over the fucking floor, and still it must have seemed a drop in the bucket compared to the sheer outpour of cum that came out of Trenderhoof. His flood was absolutely obliterating her insides, taking up any milimeter of spare space that hadn’t already been filled with his enormous pulsing dick, to the point where his spunk coun’t help but gush out of her alongside her own slick, staining them both in their heaving, shuddering, lustful mess.

For a few seconds, Rarity couldn’t think of much else. It took a few more seconds for her mind to process that she hadn’t been properly breathing for a while, and she should probably try to steady herself and stop squealing like a fool. Desperately clawing back into consciousness, trying to keep Trenderhoof’s shaft buried in her in case she needed to cum again, Rarity let her eyes refocus on Trenderhoof as he loomed over her…

A twitch.

Rarity paused. Something was…weird, in her tummy. Off. Different.

Craining her neck down and away from Trenderhoof’s panting, exultant face, Rarity stared at her belly, gasping slightly. She hadn’t expected it to distend slightly - even if only a little, having a tacit reminder of just how much Trenderhoof had unloaded into her was gratifying and a little embarrassing.

“Aheh…heh. How was that?” Trenderhoof replied. The stallion was glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, muscles wavering slightly as he tried to right himself in a slightly less animalistic manner.

Potential responses flooded Rarity’s mind. She wanted to beg for more. She wanted to kiss him, embrace him, not let go. She wanted to scold him for not asking first, for behaving in such an undignified manner. She wanted to tell him that her argument still wasn’t fallible, that one instance of copulation didn’t invalidate how endless preparation for one romantic night would always triumph over one instance of impromptu sex, no matter how good the latter felt.

“I feel strange,” Rarity replied, resting a hoof on her belly.

Trenderhoof’s gaze followed her hoof, and he snorted in amusement. “I suppose I’ll have to document this, won’t I?”

The pit fell out of Rarity’s stomach. “You’re not seriously going to write about how we just—”

“No! No, I won’t. Bringing deserving things into the limelight doesn’t mean humiliating the ponies who deserve center stage. But…whoof, I should document how I feel right now.” Trenderhoof grinned. “That was utterly sublime, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rarity chuckled weakly. “That, I suppose, we can agree on.”