It's a bitter December morning, the kind that seeps through the walls with tendrils of icy cold, snaking past the radiators and warm forms snuggled up in their beds, clinging low to the floor to nip at hooves and fetlocks. The sun isn't up yet; it won't be for hours. Rising with Celestia is not a luxury afforded to bakers.
Carrot Cake wakes, blinking his bleary eyes, his forehooves seeking out his wife. She's not there, but her impression and warmth still linger on the sheets. A stray pink hair is on her pillow. Carrot nuzzles into the pillow, inhaling deeply. He shudders softly at the wonderful scent; her perfume, sweat, a little confectioner's sugar. He sits, stretches, and lets out a great, chewy yawn as he reaches for his bathrobe. The low drone of the electric shower buzzes through the air.
He rolls out of bed, clasping his bathrobe tightly around him with a shiver. His hooffalls are quiet and measured. The foals won't be up for another hour, and he doesn't want to wake them. It's a short, chilly trot to the bathroom. The door is unlocked. She leaves it unlocked for him.
The bathroom is fogged with thick, hot steam that warms Carrot the instant he steps inside. He closes and locks the door behind him. They don't want Pinkie Pie walking in, after all. He turns to the figure in the shower, and sees his favourite sight.
Cup Cake stands in the shower, hot steam rising off her thick curves. Her intricately permed pink mane cascades down her head and neck. She hums a soft little tune as she lathers her underlegs and withers. Her chubby coat wobbles and squishes under her hooves as she cleans herself. Carrot has never tired of that sight, not after a baker's dozen years together.
Carrot shrugs off his bathrobe, opens the shower door and steps in next to his wife. She doesn't turn to look at him, she merely continues to hum and clean herself, though a small smile creeps onto her face. She gasps lightly when one of Carrot's cold forehooves touches her back. He runs his muzzle up the back of her neck, and lets out a breathy nicker when he reaches her ear. She twists her neck to face him. For a moment, they share a loving, knowing, comfortable look. Then they close their eyes, press their lips together, and kiss.
It's gentle and affectionate, their lips parting ever so slightly. They take their time, not shoving their tongues down each other's throats like horny teenagers, instead allowing themselves to enjoy the moment. Their mouths are still bitter with morning breath. Neither of them mind. It's still a kiss shared with the pony they love. Carrot's face is rough with stubble. Cup breaks the kiss and grazes her lips against her husband's face, loving the prickly sensation.
“Mmhm. Morning, honeybun,” says Cup, in a voice tinged with sleepiness. “Can you get my back for me?”
Carrot responds by planting a warm kiss on her neck, then grabbing the bottle of coat shampoo and squeezing it onto his wife's back. Cup Cake sighs in contentment as her husband lathers up her back with the powerful hooves of a baker, kneading the soft flab under her coat, as much massaging as cleaning her. There's strong muscle under her bubblegum blue coat, and Carrot is getting the kinks out of it. The mixture of the massage and the blissfully hot water running down her thick body feels heavenly.
Carrot Cake is just as happy. He loves the way his hooves sink ever so slightly into Cup's chubby coat, loves the little creases where her barrel meets her flanks and her buttocks meet her thighs, loves how she moans with pleasure when he hits her problem spots, loves the jiggles of her curves when her body wiggles. It's a rare part of Cup Cake that he doesn't love.
Cup moans, low and sultry, as Carrot caresses her fat flanks. She yelps and giggles when he slaps a hoof down on her cutie mark, splashing water against the tiles. Her tail raises without thinking and she bows her head, letting hot water run down her face and neck, preparing for the best part of waking up.
Carrot gets behind his wife, and pauses for a moment to admire the cute dimples of cellulite on her butt. He places a forehoof on each flank and spreads them apart, feeling them yield softly underneath him. Cup undulates her hips, displaying her puffy, frilly lower lips. They're soaking with anticipation. Carrot buries his muzzle between Cup's plump buttocks. His talented tongue laps and twists at his wife's honeypot, drinking in her sweet, musky nectar, coating his face in her feminine juices. Cup stifles a satisfied moan and wiggles back into her husband, enveloping his face in her formidable flanks.
The blue mare whines with frustration when Carrot pulls his face from her love, but stops when he places his hooves on her back and mounts her. He's achingly hard, and wants to slam inside and rut her silly, but he wants to make sure she's comfortable before they begin. After quickly adjusting, he plants several soft kisses where her jaw meets her neck, and lines up his shaft with Cup's sex. He slides inside with no resistance, and they moan in unison at the heat and the pleasure.
They fuck, slim hips slapping against that curvaceous, delicious rump, her tail wiggling against his stomach, their moans passionate but low, desperate not to wake the others. Their world is hot water, heated steam, the heat of each other, of him inside her, squeezing, caressing, loving each other. Her tongue lolls out as he thrusts inside her, eyes rolling from lust and bliss, rivulets of water flowing down his face onto her neck, making her slam her hips back, taking her husband's thick, long shaft inside her.
In that moment, there are no thoughts in their mind, just pure delight and love for one another. They could last for hours, and have done before. On rare holidays to faraway places, they fuck each other as the sun goes down, fuck until the sun comes up, nap in sunshine and tropical breeze, wake up to fuck some more on exotic beaches, barely pausing to drink or eat, filled with desire to show their affections for each other in the most carnal and basic of ways.
They don't last long this morning. They have no need to prove themselves to one another, Cup and Carrot only wish to start the morning in the best way possible. Besides, the minutes are ticking on, and Pinkie will wake up soon. Carrot reaches a hoof under his wife, loving the feel of her pudgy, soft belly, but going past her navel and searching out her clit. His thrusts quicken and Cup's moans turn higher and shorter, almost into short grunts.
Cup lets out a low, broken groan as she climaxes, her powerful inner muscles contracting around her husband's shaft. Her hips twitch and undulate as she rides it out, but there's no need, her husband is still thrusting quickly, near the end of his fuse. He takes the back of her mane in his teeth and yanks as he reaches the edge.
“Cup! Fuck!” He spills his seed inside her, gasping sharply as he paints Cup's hot inner walls with jet after jet of semen. He stays inside her until he's completely spent and then some. They nuzzle each other, Cup craning her neck to rub her cheek against her husband's face. With a slick slop, Carrot dismounts, and a small river of white, thick cream flows from Cup's flower, down her haunches and onto the shower floor.
The couple kiss again, more passionate now, their tongues sliding against each other. They break the kiss and look at each other, their faces flushed, smiling from ear to ear. Cup starts giggling uncontrollably, and Carrot does the same. In a moment, they're both struggling to stay upright from the laughter. The silly giggling doesn't stop even as they soap each other up and get clean, ready for the day ahead of them.
They finish up, dry off and leave the bathroom just in time to see Pinkie Pie bouncing down the hall for her turn in the shower. The pink pony greets them with a cheerful good morning, and passes them into the steamy bathroom. Pinkie noticed something about the couple, behind their bleary eyes and silly grins. They almost seemed to be glowing, as if something wonderful within them had infused their entire beings. They looked like that most mornings, come to think of it.
Pinkie doesn't know what the glow is, or where it comes from, but for some reason whenever she sees it, the smile on her face gets a little bit bigger.
FIN
