“A…and I call this piece La Jument du Cirque,” Mix sputtered while waving a trembling hoof up at the painting.
He’d expected - well, hoped for a decent turnout for his exhibition, opening his gallery of art to the public, but he’d been unprepared for the attendance. It wasn’t the dozens of well-dressed ponies that rattled his nerves, nor was it the fact that many of the visitors were well-to-do that bothered him - no, it was one pony in particular that put him on edge. Turning and craning his neck upward, he falteringly smiled at the towering mare standing just beside him.
“Interesting,” Celestia thoughtfully hummed. Shifting and glancing over at another painting, she nodded her head. “And that one?”
Mix followed her gaze and swallowed hard. “O…oh! Point Difficile, y…yes!”
Turning and trotting over to the piece, he quickly wiped sweat from his brow. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that was suddenly entertaining the oldest and arguably most influential Princess in all of Equestria’s history or that a goodly portion of his works were of a more adult theme. As he came to a stop before the portrait, a painting of a stallion encased in latex, his mouth went dry.
Ordinarily speaking, he had no reservations about talking to somepony about his craft - in fact, he enjoyed chatting about his various labors of love, although to explain something which clearly had fetishistic elements to a regal, motherly alicorn was stressful at best and terrifying at worst. While Celestia hadn’t said or done anything to put him on guard, being as demure and polite as the stories of her made her out to be, he couldn’t help but feel anxious. Would she think less of him after this? Was she going to talk about him to her fellow Princesses? Could he live with himself if she showed even a trace of disdain for his craft?
With his anxiety skyrocketing, he cleared his throat and pulled at his collar. “P…Princess?”
She shuffled to the side and gave him a tranquil smile. “Yes?”
“P…pardon me, but I must excuse myself for a m…moment,” he wheezed. “I assure you, I’ll be right back.”
“Take as much time as you need, Mix,” she noted with a bow of her head. “Would it be alright if I browse your gallery until you return?”
“O…of course!” he croaked, both elated and shocked that she, a diarch of the empire, would ask his permission for anything. “Just g…give me a few minutes.”
Giving her no time to reply, he whipped around and bolted away. As he weaved past ponies and displays, taking care not to disturb any of his guests or unintentionally damage any of his work, his heart raced. It would have been nervous if any royal had showed up, so bumping into none other than Celestia had nearly given him a heart attack.
He bolted out of the gallery, through his studio, and into his private restroom before he finally came to a halt. All he needed was a minute, just a small amount of time to collect himself, gather his wits, and cool down a bit - at least, that’s what he told himself. Heaving air into his chest, he started and turned when a sudden movement caught his eye.
In his haste and mental haze, he’d forgotten all about the mirror situated above his sink. A grimace graced his muzzle when he saw into his reflection. His neckerchief was a bit ruffled, his mane was matted, and he glistened with sweat - still, he didn’t look that bad. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled, doing what he could to calm his thundering heart.
It was only after his breathing had slowed that he began tidying himself up a bit. The cobalt of his coat and plumage clashed the splotchy white fur at the end of his snout and around his hooves while contrasting the azure of his mane and tail. He’d always been told he was a cute stallion, particularly because of his glistening emerald eyes, but he tried not to let the casual flattery get to his head - no, if he was going to make a name for himself, it would be through his art.
There was only one way to deal with Celestia, even though it wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t necessarily right to give all his attention to a single guest, but what was he supposed to do? Celestia - the Princess Celestia, was out there browsing his paintings and sculptures, so he could be forgiven for giving her a guided tour ~ right. Giving himself an uneasy smile, he sighed and saw himself out.
Speaking with any of the Princesses would have made him tense, but there was a very good reason he was so out of sorts. To put it bluntly, he’d always had a soft spot for Celestia. Her size, her grace, the maternal energy she exuded - honestly, if there was such a thing as a perfect pony, it would be her. He moved with a purpose, telling himself he’d be fine, and reentered the gallery.
It didn’t take him long to find her, seeing as how she towered a full head and shoulders over everypony else. He paused when he spotted her, taken aback by her beauty. She really was a gorgeous mare, both in body and spirit, and he was honored that she’d come to see his work. Maybe she’d seen one of the fliers he’d put up, or perhaps she’d just happened by and came in out of boredom - regardless of what had brought her in, he was thankful to finally meet her.
“Princess,” he called, summoning enough courage to wave at her. Trotting up to her side, he beamed up at her. “I do apologize for the delay, I had to -”
“It’s quite alright,” she giggled while dismissively batting a hoof. “I have to say, you’re quite talented.”
He blinked as blood surged to his cheeks. Of all the compliments he’d been given over the years, hers stood out amongst the rest. Nearly swooning, he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.
“T…thank you, my Princess,” he stammered, keeping his eyes on the floor. Steeling himself, he shifted and lifted his head. “If you’d c…come this way, I have a few pieces I’m p…particularly fond of.”
Considering he had no other options, he did the only thing he could think to do - he gave her a tour of his finest works. While he appreciated all the pieces he’d put out on display, there were a select few he liked more than others, ones he could easily talk about at length, so he showed her to the closest such example, then a second and third, until his apprehension was drowned out by his passion. The more he talked, the more comfortable he became - the more comfortable he became, the easier it was to be in her regal company.
Celestia was a fine guest, whether she intended to be or not, and she rarely interrupted him - on the few occasions she did, she always had something thought provoking or kind to say. Before Mix knew it, he’d spent nearly an hour alongside her. Reaching up and gently touching a forehoof to sculpture, one of a ballerina balancing on one hind leg, he grinned.
“All of these pieces are lovely in their own right, although this one is especially captivating,” Celestia quietly remarked. “It reminds me of some of my work.”
Mix’s brows rose in surprise as he gazed up at her face. “I had no idea you were an artist!”
With her cheeks darkening, she looked away and brushed a lock of ethereal mane from her face. “Compared to somepony as skilled and creative as yourself, I can hardly call myself an artist.”
Mix couldn’t believe his ears. Not only had Celestia just given him what may have just been the best compliment he’d ever received, but she’d revealed a part of her he hadn’t known existed. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was obsessed with her, yet he’d never heard or read anything about her having creative pursuits outside of theater.
“I - Ahem,” he coughed. “First of all, thank you for your kind words - secondly, at the risk of speaking out of turn, I’m sure you make lovely art.”
She faintly smiled and dipped her head. “I…I’m not sure about that…”
“Well I am,” he boldly declared. “If you ever felt comfortable, I’d love nothing more than to see some of your work…” he quickly trailed off and stiffened. “I…if you’d feel comfortable sharing it, o…of course…”
Her serene expression didn’t waver in the slightest while she studied him. “I’d - no, I could hardly impose.”
Mix shook his head and gently lifted her forehoof. “Princess, it would be my utmost privilege!”
Had he been thinking clearly, he would never have laid a hoof on her - that being said, he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. To hear they had something in common, paired with seeing her being so bashful, put him completely out of sorts. He released her as soon as he grasped what he’d done, but it was too late.
Leaning forward, she brought her muzzle to within a hair’s breadth of his face. “I’d normally be a bit reluctant to show somepony, but…”
“B…but…” he breathed.
“But I feel you’ll appreciate my craft,” she softly concluded. “Might I interest you in -”
“Y…yes!” he bleated emphatically. “Celestia, we could -”
Pop
With a blinding flash and rush of displaced air, his gallery disappeared. He reeled back and blinked rapidly, disoriented from the abrupt transition. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been teleported, and it almost certainly wouldn’t be the last, yet the suddenness of it was startling - heck, he didn’t even know where he was!
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around himself. “Where did…”
The words died in his throat as realization dawned on him. He wasn’t in a gallery or museum, nor was he in a studio of any sort. Surrounded by luxury, with an oversized bed to his left and an expansive dresser to his right, he gulped. If he hadn’t lost his marbles, she’d just brought him to her boudoir.
“Much better,” Celestia sighed, flipping her mane back and bringing his eyes over to her. “It’s so much more intimate to speak about the fine arts with somepony in private ~ don’t you think?”
As Mix flapped his jaw, unable to make a sound, his throat clenched. What in the world was happening? In the blink of an eye, everything about her had changed - the way she held herself, her tone, the way she looked at him - everything. Completely and utterly motionless, he stood mute while she sauntered over and affixed him with her heavily-lidded gaze.
“If I may be so bold, Mix, do you happen to have a special somepony in your life?” she coolly asked while drawing a forehoof under his chin.
He looked into her eyes and somehow found his voice. “N…no…”
“Splendid,” she purred before turning and trotting away. “I’m sure your interest is piqued about my art.”
Her assessment was remarkably poignant and served as an anchor. Shifting and turning in place, he took in his surroundings. Though her room was lovely, everything he’d expect from an ageless Princess of renown, it was entirely bereft of art - well, not unless he’d crafted the furniture, linens, or the carpet underhoof.
“I am, yeah,” he quietly affirmed.
Snickering to herself, she shook her head. “Perhaps it would be easiest if I show you…”
“I…I’d love - Eeep!” he squawked as a beam of golden light shot from her horn and impacted him squarely in the chest.
The hum of magic filled his ears and an aura radiated over him. Her sorcery didn’t hurt - actually, it was quite pleasant, although he was startled by how quickly she’d cast it upon him. Sensing his hair stand on end, he shivered as a preternatural warmth seeped through his skin and down to his very bones.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to remain still as he reveled in the alien sensation. What she was doing with him - to him, was anypony’s guess, but he trusted her implicitly. Throughout the millennia, she’d never once hurt anypony, even the foes she’d bested while defending Equestria, and the chances that she’d spontaneously do something dastardly were practically nonexistent. As the pleasant feeling began to subside, and with the light shrouding him faded, he peeked out with a single eye.
“I - heh,” he chuckled. “You scared me for a second…”
She said nothing while her eyes wandered over him. Something about her was off - not physically, but with how she regarded him. Feeling no different than usual, he lifted a forehoof and squinted. What in the world?
Hastily rubbing his eyes, he blinked in disbelief. He knew himself better than anypony, seeing himself in the mirror shortly after waking every morning and after taking a bath every night, and the foreleg he was seeing was not his own. Instead of the broad hoof and thick bone of a stallion, the limb was slender and almost dainty.
He spun so quickly that he nearly stumbled, looked to her vanity, and froze. Where once a healthy, well-built stallion stood, there was no a mare staring back at him. With a cute face, flowing mane, and very ample backside, the fair creature wasn’t some parody of him - it was him.
“Beautiful,” Celestia whispered as she stepped over and behind him. “I’d assumed your metamorphosis would suit you, although I hadn’t the slightest idea that it would be this exquisite.”
“W…what did - Mmmph,” Mix whimpered as he went to face her.
The moment he shifted his weight, a bolt of pleasure radiated from his abdomen. Cocking a hind leg, he lowered his head and peeked down at himself. He’d thought something might have rubbed against his sheath, that maybe Celestia was playing some trick on him, and he’d been partially correct. Obscuring his groin and swaying ever so slightly were a perky, rather generous pair of teats.
Lowering her head to inspect his undercarriage, Celestia hummed. “A fine set…”
He went to shy away, taken aback by just how close she was, and promptly lost his balance. As he flopped down onto his side, his mind reeled. He’d had a few wild experiences in life, yet this was beyond the pale. Clamping his eyes shut, he struggled to wrap his head around what was happening.
The only reason he knew he was still a stallion was because he could feel his package nestled between his plump thighs - nevertheless, that gave him little comfort. Unless this was an extremely vivid dream, the Princess had just stripped away his masculinity with no regard for his well-being whatsoever. Latching onto the notion of what she’d just said, mentioning that it would be easier for her to show him her art, he pushed himself up and glared at her.
“W…what did you -” He cut himself off by clamping a hoof to his muzzle.
His voice - she’d even changed his voice. Lilting and marish, she sounded nothing like she had mere minutes before! Completely and utterly at a loss, he watched as Celestia tittered and circled him. She might not have hurt him, but there was no way - no possible way he could return to his gallery and entertain his guests before she changed him back.
Coming around behind him, she eyed his rear. “I’m not one to toot my own horn, but you may be my finest work yet.”
“W…work?!” Mix squeaked while bolting to his hooves. “This is what you call work?!”
“It’s my art,” she tutted. “You’re still a stallion, if only just, and yet you’re more alluring than most mares could dare to dream.”
“I…” Mix fell silent as he processed the bizarre situation.
To say his day had taken a strange turn would be an egregious understatement. Though he was relatively certain that nothing was wrong with him physically, outside of his altered figure and form, the only way he could be totally certain would be to get checked out by a doctor - something that was not going to happen. With few choices left to him, he shifted his weight back and forth to get a feel for his body.
His weight had been redistributed substantially, making it harder than it should have been to keep balance, and he felt weird - like he was in somepony else’s skin. Spinning in a small circle, he peered over his shoulder at his backside. While he turned and spied the vanity, his focus shot to the mirror.
He was completely at Celestia’s mercy, being unable to undo what she’d done, so he did the only reasonable thing somepony in his position could do - he made lemonade from lemons. From the way she’d spoken and how she was acting, he had to assume he wasn’t the first stallion to suffer such a peculiar fate. Enthralled by his reflection, he touched a forehoof to his cheek.
It was rare for him to be stricken by anything or anypony in particular, excluding when he’d spotted Celestia browsing his art, but darned if he didn’t find himself captivating - sure, he may have ended up a pale shadow of the stallion he was supposed to be, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t enamored by himself. He looked good, far better than he had any right to, and his dismay was quickly overshadowed by curiosity and a hint of arousal.
His subconscious thoughts ran wild, filling his head with all sorts of wild imaginings. Even without makeup, he doubted anypony would question if he was a mare or not - with makeup, he’d likely turn heads wherever he went! Oddly thrilled by the notion of being gussied up, he pinched the bridge of his snout.
“Here,” Celestia hummed. As he looked up at her, she hovered a small hoofmirror over to him. “This may help.”
Mix took the mirror with a wing, even if he was a bit confused. He was able to see himself perfectly fine in her vanity, so the offer struck him as odd. Turning the mirror over in his feathered grip, he glanced over to her and got an idea of where her intentions lay.
She’d been giving him plenty of attention, especially after she’d cast her spell on him, although most of her focus seemed to be on his hindquarters. One of the few places he couldn’t easily check on himself was his nethers, so he had to assume the compact was meant for that. Placing the small mirror on the floor, he stepped forward and lowered his head.
“W…wha…” he sputtered as he finally saw his loins.
He hadn’t been the most impressively well-hung stallion on the planet, he’d begrudgingly admit that, but now his package was positively dainty. With a cute little coin purse and hardening erection, his equipment was about the same size as it had been when he’d been a colt. Mortified, he gawked at his diminished endowment.
“Isn’t it lovely?” Celestia pressed, nearly jamming her head under him.
Flying back, he clamped his tail between his legs and grimaced. “How could you…”
He couldn’t finish speaking as he looked over at her. She was as resplendent as ever, tall and gorgeous, although there was something about her that he hadn’t noticed before - something that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Shaking his head and wondering if he was seeing things, he stared at what appeared to be a fifth leg dangling beneath her.
“It’s a big bigger than yours - then again, at this point, most things would be,” she tittered, flexing her groin and causing the appendage to swing up and smack against her belly.
“Is…is that…” Mix murmured in disbelief.
Looking down and back at herself, she smirked. “My royal scepter? It’s exactly what you’re thinking it is.”
A cock - Princess Celestia had a cock, and a darn big one by the looks of it. If he wasn’t dreaming all this up, having suffered a concussion or stroke in his gallery, he was seeing something that had she’d done a darn good job keeping a secret. A part of him was tempted to get a closer look at her goods, nor for the least of which reasons being all the things she’d just subjected him to, but he held his ground.
“We alicorns are a mixture of earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi like yourself, as I’m sure you’re aware,” she began while trotting toward and around him. “What you and a great many others aren’t aware of is that we have traits of both stallions mares - apropos…”
Smack
The meaty sound of her stallionhood slapping against her sent a thrilled shiver up Mix’s spine. He rarely spoke of it, mostly because it was a private matter, but he had a few secrets of his own. While he wasn’t necessarily into stallions, finding little interest in them, he had an interest in their equipment.
He couldn’t explain it - heck, he barely understood it himself, but something about a big, meaty cock made him a little excited. Twisting and sneaking glimpses of Celestia’s hardening length, he sensed his stallionhood - rather colthood twitch. The thought of dating a stud made him feel torn, but courting a mare sporting an extra something - that was an idea he could potentially get behind.
“Don’t be so coy, Mix-up,” she cooed as she came to a halt. “What happens in my room stays in my room - besides, I’m enchanted by what you now have to offer.”
Her words and relaxed demeanor were a soothing balm, easing Mix’s mind and calming his frazzled nerves. “Y…you can just call me M…Mix…”
She bowed and smiled all the broader. “In that case, you may drop the formalities and call me Celestia. Mix, I do have a question for you.”
“Go ahead,” he chirped.
Crossing to the bed, she stepped onto her mattress and eased herself down. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I believe this caught your eye.”
Seeing her shift to her side and raise one hind leg into the air to reveal her profound package, Mix went rigid in more ways than one. “W…well, I - Cough - I’d be l…lying if I said it hadn’t…”
“Perhaps we can come to a civil arrangement. So long as you allow me to return the favor with you, I’ll allow you to indulge yourself,” she mused. “Nopony will bother us, so I see no reason we can’t appreciate one another.”
Mix could scarcely believe his ears. “R…really?”
Casually motioning down at her nethers, she softly snickered. “I believe my enthusiasm speaks for itself.”
It took everything he had to restrain himself, to keep himself from bolting over to her, but he was able to rein himself in - if only just. Moving to the foot of the bed, he gazed longingly at her stallionhood. Though he yearned to touch her, to lavish her with praise, it couldn’t be that simple ~ could it?
“I assure you, it won’t bite,” she giggled.
Buck it - he wasn’t going to let an opportunity like this slip through his hooves. Crawling onto the bed, he brought his snout to her balls and took a breath through his nose. The aroma which struck him was phenomenal, a unique cocktail of stallionly musk and marish scent, and it spurred him on like few things ever had.
He kept his eyes on her face as he extended his tongue and dragged it over her immense coin purse. Had somepony told him he’d get to meet Celestia that day, he would have laughed off the absurd notion, yet he’d done that and more. Licking and kissing his way to the base of her shaft, he quietly groaned.
Pulling a pillow behind her head, Celestia made herself comfortable while she basked in his affection. “So eager. Isn’t it nice to be honest with yourself?”
“M…mmm-hmm,” Mix moaned as he drew his tongue up the underside of her length.
There were very, very few times in his life when his lust got the best of him, but darned if this wasn’t one of him. The absurdity of it all, becoming a marish mockery of his usual self and discovering that the Princess was aroused by him, was more than his sensibilities could handle. Going on instinct alone, he repositioned himself and slipped the tip of her stallionhood into his muzzle.
His lack of experience was outweighed by his compulsion to please her. Bobbing his head and humming around her, he gradually worked her cock-head to the back of his throat. He’d only ever received a hoofful of blowjobs in his life, and it wasn’t like he’d ever given one himself, but that wasn’t enough to deter him - not by a long shot.
He did the best he could while leaning heavily upon his instincts. Being a stallion himself meant he knew what would feel good, although knowing how to do something and actually doing it were two entirely different things. While he nursed on the tip of her shaft, she reached down to run a forehoof through his head.
Her encouragement was glorious and made his heart skip a beat. He may have been wrong, but something told him that she’d be candid enough to tell him if he was doing a bad job. Peeking up and finding her watching him, he all but made out with her dick.
The sound of her blissful, pleased sigh above him, coupled with the taste of pre-cum against his palate, was beyond rewarding. A pony could fake many things, but her reaction to his ministrations was genuine. Fueled by inspiration and raw desire, he filled his lungs, relaxed his jaw, and forced his head downward.
His throat spasmed and he fought back a gag as she sank down his gullet. Sucking-off somepony with a modest endowment probably wouldn’t have been that difficult - fortunately or unfortunately, Celestia was definitely on the gifted side. Literally choking on her, he peered down her shaft and came to a startling realization.
All the determination in the world wasn’t going to let him service her properly, but he wasn’t completely out of options. Glancing back at his tush, he knit his brow. While there were plenty of ponies out there who enjoyed anal, and he was completely aware that one’s ass could accommodate more than one’s untrained throat, he was hesitant to…
Mid-thought, he was enshrouded by golden light and lifted into the air. “Wha…”
“You’ll have to excuse me, but you’ve gotten me a bit flustered,” she huffed, getting her hooves under her and stepping aside while hovering him to the center of the bed. Placing him down and gingerly splaying his legs, she came up behind him. “Be a dear and lift your tail for me.”
He obliged her without thinking, flipping his tail up and back to give her an unfettered view of his rump. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out she’d been thinking the same thing as him - that and she was clearly ready for something beyond oral. Looming over him, she channeled power into her horn.
“Just have to…” she muttered.
Whimpering quietly, he sensed a warmth blossom within him. As his pucker winked and grew slick, the reality of what she was doing hit him. Without the use of any ordinary lube or time to prepare, she’d relied on her sorcery to make him ready. He could have slipped free or protested, telling her to stop, yet his only wish was for her to claim him.
Going to get into position, she wavered. “Actually…” she sighed, seizing him in her sorcerous grasp. Turning him onto his back, she stuffed a pillow under his backside. “Much better…”
Being taken from behind would have been fine, although the prospect of her despoiling him in a missionary position was enough to fracture his sanity. Splaying and extending his hind legs, he mutely welcomed her. The last thing he wanted to do was to spoil the moment, so he simply beamed up at her and waved her forward with his wings.
Celestia snorted, stepped over his ample hips, and kissed the tip of her length to his quivering entrance. As she leaned in and locked lips with him, kissing him deeply and passionately, the pressure on his hole steadily mounted. Never in a thousand years would he have assumed he’d share an intimate moment with the mare of his dreams, yet fate had smiled upon him.
With a buck of her hips, he yielded to her girthy shaft. His eyes shot wide and rolled to the back of his head. Though he’d fully anticipated some discomfort or pain from such a massive intrusion, a wave of pure pleasure surged through him. Moving of their own volition, as though it had a mind of its own, his hind legs snapped closed around her waist and lifted his lower half from the bed.
She groaned into his muzzle while she drove inch after heavenly inch of her stallionhood into him. How he was managing to take something so large, why it felt as amazing as it did, and what she was thinking were mysteries that meant nothing to him. In that heated exchange, being gradually stuffed with an insane amount of Princess cock, he wouldn’t have changed a thing.
No sooner did her weighty balls come to rest against his rump than she started to rut him in earnest. Her thrusts were methodical and unhurried, and he dearly hoped that she was enjoying herself as much as he was - heck, even half as much! Bucking up to meet her plunges, desperate for more, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to her.
He realized he wasn’t a mare, not in the truest sense, although he certainly felt like one. Laying on his back, his legs spread in submission, he was the antithesis of what a stallion should be. As she plowed him harder and faster, caving to her bestial urges, his rapture skyrocketed. There were a great many things about the day which should have been impossible, yet being driven to the brink of release without so much as touching his colthood was one of the most unbelievable.
Pulling away and breaking their kiss, he hugged her neck with his forelegs. “I…I’m g…gonna…”
“Cum for me,” she whispered, hastening her pace. “Show me you’re a good little colt and -”
“G…Gah!” he howled, wracked with ecstasy.
His back arched, his limbs quaked, and ropes of jizz shot from his diminished shaft over his newly-made cleavage. He’d had more climaxes than he could count over the years, both at his hooves and from others, yet the orgasm which struck him was singular. Drowning in a pleasure so profound that it robbed him of his strength, he fought tooth and nail to keep his hold on her.
This wasn’t for him, his bliss was a mere byproduct of serving his princess, and he would not allow himself to rest until he’d earned his rich, creamy reward. He’d like to think she appreciated his resolve, but there was no way for him to know for certain - in any case, seconds after he brayed to the heavens, she unleashed her full potential.
Between her size, strength, and still with which she fucked him, he never stood a chance. The sound of flesh impacting flesh mingled with the creaking bed and the sound of his wanton, marish squeals of glee to form a sinful symphony. Stars above - if this was what sex was like on the receiving end, he never wanted to change back to his former self.
Celestia was an absolute beast - a loving, impassioned beast, but a beast nonetheless. All but screwing his brains out, driving him from one climax to the next, she made savage, unabashed love to him. The rutting may have lasted for mere minutes or eons, going on for what seemed to be a small eternity, yet it ultimately came to a head.
Sensing her heartbeat through her pistoning shaft, as well as her flare bulging out his belly, Mix snapped from his rapturous stupor. It was happening, she was about to cum, and he’d never wanted anything more. Holding her tightly, he turned her head and drove his tongue into her muzzle.
As she hilted and tensed from hoof to head, the kiss proved to be the final nail in her coffin. A seething tide of foal-batter flooded into him, causing his normally flat stomach to gurgle and steadily distend from the unimaginable pressure and weight. He came right alongside her, having the final dregs of his seed forced from his body, and he couldn’t have asked for a perfect way to finish.
Collapsing atop him, she heaved air into her chest and folded her wings around him before rearing her head back. “L…looks like somepony enjoyed himself…”
He could barely breathe, let alone speak, yet he somehow found his voice. “Y…yeah…”
Locked in her embrace, he buried his face in her neck and relished her warmth. The gallery, his art, the ponies he’d left browsing his works - none of that mattered. In that moment, positively gravid with what felt like a gallon of regal seed, there was only one thing occupying his mind ~ now that she’d made him her masterpiece, would he be able to stay at her side…?
