//------------------------------//
// How a Lady Kisses {RarityxFleur - steamy} 
// Story: The Life and Times of Fancy and Fleur 
// by Honey Mead 
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So late at night, none of the other guests walked the halls, and that suited them just fine.

Despite the lull in their conversation, neither mare was quiet as they trotted down the hotel’s long hallway toward their room, their withers and haunches pressed together for support. Each time one managed to rein in their fit of giggles, the other would be right behind them, unable to hold back any longer. Neither could recall what they were laughing about, but that hardly mattered.

When they finally stumbled upon their room, Fleur held the door open for Rarity, half bowing as she motioned the other mare inside. “Beauty before age.”

Rarity’s white coat could do nothing to hide the warmth growing in her cheeks. Mimicking Fleur’s posture, she said, “Thank you, darling, but as you are in possession of both…”

Their eyes met, sapphire and lavender, both with burning cheeks, and time froze. A heart beat, and a soft voice spoke with no words, only meaning and emotion. 

Fleur lunged forward, her magic gripping the other mare, forcing them together. Their lips met, hard and vicious, Fleur desperately trying to push her way into Rarity’s mouth, demanding that she give her what she needed, laying herself bare, pleading, hoping, praying that it wasn’t all in vain, that there was something worth loving. 

She was rebuffed, Rarity almost squealing as she pulled away from the sudden onslaught, a white hoof striking the offending muzzle, hard enough to demonstrate her displeasure while lacking harmful intent.

Gasping, Fleur reeled, shocked by the violence and distraught by the rejection. Her wine fogged brain struggled to cope. Never before had her advances been turned away, certainly not with such physicality. She despaired, the last vestiges of her self-image pouring out like the final grains of sand in an hourglass, certain in the knowledge that it was not just her husband who no longer sought her affections, that her appeal was so far gone as to elicit disgust and violence.

“That is not the way a lady kisses,” Rarity was saying as Fleur mourned.

The sensation of magic touching the back of her neck caught Fleur by surprise, a tingling behind her ears, soft, almost coy, urging her to lower her head, to share an intimate secret whispered between lovers. She compiled, her muzzle leveling with Rarity’s. Like two feathers drifting on the wind, their lips met, a light brush of moist warmth, a promise of things to come. Tentatively, desperately, longingly, Rarity’s tongue touched Fleur’s lips, tasting the tang of lingering wine, begging, pleading for admittance. Who was she to deny her?

Fleur’s lips parted, allowing the other mare inside. Only to find a second wall waiting, hard and unyielding where the other had been soft and pliable. Rarity did not waver or press, instead patiently gliding over the shining pearls, enjoying the simple feel of the near frictionless surface, waiting for the inevitable. When they opened, finally granting her the entrance she’d desired, Rarity let out the softest of moans, less a sound than an exhalation of ecstasy that pierced Fleur, drawing out a return echo from her throat as she fell into the kiss, lost amid a fog strewn sea of long forgotten passion.

The soft, strong tongue hooked behind Fleur’s teeth as though to anchor her, tracing the back of her teeth, teasing in its demure exploration. 

Unable to stand the coy pace, Fleur reached out with both limb and tongue, the former cradling Rarity’s head, locking them in an embrace, while the latter met its twin. The sharp flavors of their meal wrestled between their tongues, enhancing the rough texture as they curled and slid along and past each other, Rarity’s tongue playful, leading Fleur’s in a dance across their joined mouths.

Fleur lost herself, revealing in the moment, desperately trying to draw Rarity into herself, needing her more than life itself, unable to face the world alone. The world beyond the warmth in grasped in her forelimbs mattered not, cold and lifeless, a wasteland to which she never wished to return. She lived for an eternity within that embrace, willing it to last forever.

All things must end, however. Their lips slowly parted, a cord of saliva dangling, stretching, then breaking between them as they both panted for breath. Drained, they slumped together, resting their foreheads together, horns crossing at the base. Their eyes opened, lashes mingling between them as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“That,” Rarity said, pausing for a breath, “is how a Lady kisses.”